2366/Memory: Themysciran Healing III

Memory: Themysciran Healing III
Date of Scene:	07 July 2020
Location:	Palace - Themyscira City
Synopsis:	The further Retro-Adventures of Caitlin, Diana and Donna on Themyscira. Caitlin finds herself bullied by the sisters into trading her bruiser's ways for the finer arts of Amazonian combat.
Cast of Characters:	Donna Troy, Caitlin Fairchild, Diana Prince

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Donna Troy has posed:
    Things have been a bit awkward between Caitlin and Donna ever since Caitlin arrived on the island, but their mutual confessions revealing the shared depths of their grief for Kole and Don helped mend the rift. Still, it has been a work in progress. They have been growing closer again, but there's a touchiness there that Donna has been trying hard to avoid, and she hasn't really been spending a whole lot of time with Caitlin.

    The last few weeks, Caitlin has seen a lot of the halls of healing, and it has been a revealing experience. While Themyscira mostly seems rather primitive, there are a few exceptions, and it certainly shows in the capabilities of Themysciran medicine. The Amazons mostly rely on technology that would not seem totally out of place in classical Athens, but some of the medical equipment Caitlin has seen goes beyond anything American hospitals possess. Caitlin heals fast naturally, but there's no question that the care and skill of the healers has not only accelerated the process but ensured that little trace of her injuries shows.

    For all the technological prowess shown in the halls of healing, Amazons show little of it elsewhere. Over the weeks Caitlin has got used to the sound of sword clashing against shield. It is frequently the first sound she hears when she wakes in the morning, as the guard practice in the courtyard. They are, almost invariably, joined by Donna. If she had seemed dedicated to training back in America with the Titans, she seems twice as determined back home.

    It's still early, and the day is fine. The sun has yet to have time to warm the stone to the full heat of day, and the sea air brings a refreshing coolness. Perfect for an energetic workout. In the courtyard steel clashes against steel as Philippus leads a small group of the palace guard in combat drills. The fighters are all paired off, and Donna has drawn the short straw of facing Philippus herself. The bout has been going for some time already, and the sweating combatants are beginning to slow down, circling each other cautiously and watching for any momentary lowering of guard to exploit.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
A broken femur and a dislocated collarbone are the sort of injuries that'd set most people back a six months or a year. It's a testament to the Amazons that the redhead's up on her feet without a crutch, and barely even a noticeable limp. One fortunate thing about that obdurate skin-- Caitlin doesn't scar, either. Even the bruises have faded.

The Themysciran preference for togas is a welcome change of pace from her usual attire. Comfortable, easy to wear, and while the hem's a bit shorter than Caitlin would usually prefer, any sense of worried modesty eases after a few days exclusively in the company of other women. Still, with her sheer height and stature, she'd stand out even if it wasn't for her frizzy red hair waving like a pennant.

Cait descends the steps gingerly, favoring her gimpy leg, and watches Donna and Philippa's duel with a deeply curious expression. Muscles twitch with minute sympathy for the movement of the fighters as she tries to gauge their motions and plan of attack. For a brawler like Caitlin, this sort of careful, professional combat is an alien experience.

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana had been spending the bulk of her time with her mother, keeping up with the affairs of the ruling element of the island's people, but also holding conference with her mother to decide the future of Themyscira in the greater world beyond the island's magically hidden waters.

In this moment, Diana is with two of her mother's closest council members, and they're striding through the courtyard. Diana is wearing training clothing, as she does intend to enter into the morning's routine soon, but she has to finish speaking with the two women to help them see her points on the subject of having Themyscira become a more open - and known - element of Earth's global community.

The Princess' hair is tied back behind her bare shoulders in a tigt braid, her armor is a golden chestguard that ends just beneath her shoulders, her skirt is a pure white shade with gold around the trim that drapes loosely down around her knees, plated to give glimpses of her thighs, but with leather tabbards that drape down her lap and backside. Armor sandalad boots cover her legs from knees down... a very fancy and regal set of Amazonian armor.

Diana takes note of Caitlin and offers her a wave from afar, along with a smile.

Donna Troy has posed:
    In comparison to Diana's armor, Donna's is distinctly plain. Again she's wearing the armor of the palace guard with whom she's training - one of the troops. Not that Philippus would go any easier on her if she was playing the princess.

    When Diana waves to Caitlin, the motion catches Donna eye and she glances momentarily in Diana's direction. It's just the briefest distraction, but that's enough for Philippus. She darts forwards, shield held up, her sword lashing out to hook the back of Donna's shield and force her guard wide. The general charges in with her own shield pressing Donna's sword arm too close to her body to get a swing, hooks a leg behind Donna's and crashes her shield upwards, hitting Donna's shoulder with a clashing of metal-on-metal that rings through the courtyard before following up with a hard buffet to the side of her opponent's head. Donna stumbles back over Phillipus' outstretched leg and falls back on her ass.

    "/Gamo/!" Donna yells, getting disapproving glances from one or two other guards. She tosses her sword aside and gets to her feet, pacing away in frustration.

    "Troia! Get back here," Philippus calls out. The fact that she's speaking in English makes it clear she's aware of who's watching. Donna turns and paces back, eyes down. She stops in front of Philippus, gives her the bracelet-clashing salute, and gives the general and apologizes, her reply in Themysciran.

    Philippus gives Donna a stern nod, then breaks into a smile. "I have had thousands of years more to learn than you, princess. Don't be hard on yourself. You get better every day. Now go and take a break, your friend is here." She nods her head towards Caitlin, and Donna follows the gesture. She smiles towards her fellow Titan, salutes Philippus again, picks up her sword and walks over to Caitlin, giving a wave to Diana on her way.

    "Hi Cait," Donna says a little ruefully, sheathing her sword and slinging her shield over her back. "That was a little embarassing. Sorry. How are you feeling today?"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Better than you, I think," Caitlin says with a mischevious grin for her friend. She spots Diana and beams, waving back at her with a welcoming gesture. Her gaze transfer back to Donna. "I haven't fallen over since Eponia took my cast off. And I got tapioca pudding for breakfast, so, today's looking pretty good, so far."

She looks around at the dueling Amazons, watching their technique and their variations of practice and serious training. "You looked really good though," she tells Donna, with her voice pitched low so she's not antagonizing Phillipus. "I didn't know you could like, swordfight swordfight. I mean, I've seen you /with/ a sword, but that was... really cool," she admits.

Caitlin clears her throat, shoulders shrugging, and rubs her tricep awkwardly. "How long did it take you to learn to fence?"

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana separates herself from the two council women and makes her way down a set of stone stairs that lead between tall white marble statues. She makes her way toward where Donna and Caitlin are, and a soft smile is present upon her lips. "Donna is a very skilled sword fighter." She states, then finding a place to seat herself with her back straight and her eyes going over to Caitlin. "You are doing better then?" She asks, having not had a lot of opportunities to ask that question since arriving to the island, as they've all been quite busy in their own individual areas within the city.

"You are not looking to join in the training quite yet are you, Caitlin?" Diana asks then, wanting to be a bit protective of the young woman, since she's not just a guest here but also one of the few guests who've ever come here period.

"I would hate to set your healing back at all." Diana's eyes go to Donna then. "What happened out there? I heard your named shouted."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Since I could pick up a sword, Cait." Donna looks awkwardly aside. "I mean the whole trained by a martial order thing was true even if the Knights of Ilium weren't. I tried to give you as true a picture of it as I could. I really have been training since I was six.

    She shrugs her shoulders and looks back at Caitlin. "Honestly in a lot of ways the actual swordfighting is easier. Nobody in Metropolis carries a sword, and the techniques take a lot of modification. Cutting the barrel from a gun isn't exactly what we normally train for here, and honestly in America I had to be a lot more careful. Amazons heal quicker." She glances down at Caitlin's leg, then up again with a grin. "A bit like you," she says. "I told you that you'd fit in."

    Diana's arrival gets a broader smile from Donna. Strangely Diana hadn't been around for the first sixteen years of Donna's life on Themyscira, and they first actually met face to face in America. Donna's still not quite used to actually being on the island at the same time as Diana, but if there's any resentment at her finding herself lower in the pecking order and their mother's attention, Donna certainly doesn't show it. She blushes slightly at Diana's praise of her fighting ability, and greets her with a "Good morning sister."

    The question Diana asks is a little more awkward, and Donna looks down at the ground, shuffling a foot slightly. "I uh... got a little frustrated. I was not respectful to Philippus when she beat me fairly." Diana will know what the Greek word Donna shouted herself means, and probably had a pretty decent idea of what kind of reply she was going to get.

    "If the healers think she is ready, I think Caitlin would benefit from some training," she says, thankful for the excuse to change subject. "I have trained her a little myself, but she's ahh..." she glances towards Caitlin, thinking carefully about how to put it. "A bit rough around the edges. She can throw a mean punch, but she needs a lot more discipline to her technique, and I suspect Philippus would be better of persuading her of that than I am. Apparently I'm lacking in discipline myself." She grins widely at Caitlin, humor in place of some kind of apology for the implied criticism in her words.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin makes a face at Donna at the comment about 'rough edges'; when Donna pulls one of her own, Caitlin doubles down, until the back and forth is just two young women mocking each other with increasingly ridiculous caricature.

It takes Diana's stalwart presence for Caitlin to remember her manners, she she straightens up and tries to look attentive. The feelings between Donna and Caitlin are a little scuffed, but from the exchange, they're clearly on the mend.

"I don't-- what kinda training do I need?" Caitlin asks, plaintively. "Nightwing taught me some boxing. He's real swell at it. I mean--"

Caitlin looks around, then points at a broken section of plinth that looks like it's been there since the invention of democracy. It must weigh thirty or forty tons; Caitlin walks around it, looking, and then stoops down and hooks her fingers under it. She drops into a deep squat and with a grunt, lifts it a full three feet off the ground, straining. She walks a shoulder under it, and in a few seconds, she's holding a weight over her head that would take more than a few Amazons (besides Donna and Diana) to heft.

"I give 'em the old one-two hook, and if they get back up, I hit them with a big rock," she says, straining.

A beat. "Is there somewhere this is supposed to go? I just realized there's a bunch of bugs under here."

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana's eyes glance toward Philippus as Donna speaks of her, she sees her across the yard addressing some of her trainees for the day. A smile spreads over Diana's lips and her eyes go back up to Donna. "You were angry then? It happens to all of us. Philippus knows. She just--however--would wish that you would focus that anger different, more beneficially. Rather than in an outburst at failing in the moment, turn it into dedication toward learning from the mistakes made."

Diana's hands come together at her knees and her fingers interlace together. "At least... that is the sort of thing I was told, when I was in the 'thick of it' as they say." It's been a long time since those days, even if she still trains with her sisters, she does it on another level at this point of her life. One her sisters have come to marvel at in fact. Philippus included, not that she'd ever say it to Diana though!

When Caitlin moves to gather up that rather large load, Diana shows a grin to her. She laughs softly. "Put it over there." She says, toward one of the garden edges where there are other similar items setup to try to look as organized as possible.

"I get it, you are very strong and ready to show it to the whole wide world." Diana adds to Caitlin. "Have you been fitted for armor and weapons yet, Caitlin?" She has to ask, if Caitlin hasn't already indeed been taken down that road. "Is your fists your ultimate weapon of choice though? Or would you like to experiment with something else. Javelins or lances, perhaps?"

Diana exhales softly again. "Nightwing? One of the Gotham crusaders? I imagine that he is a capable teacher, but I am certain we can take you a little deeper than he was able to whilst you are here."

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna watches Caitlin's showing off with an amused shake of her head. "So much for your frailty, Caitlin. I think we can declare your healing a success. You're strong, and you know how to throw a punch. That's a start, but you could be a whole lot more. Think how well Nightwing does when he doesn't have the speed or strength that we have. If you will accept our training, you will leave this island not just healed, but stronger and better than you ever were before."

    Diana's admonishment, mild as it was, brings an end to Donna's playful bantering with Caitlin. "I know Diana. It's just... you know what it's like. You were in the same position as me once. I just... I don't want to let everyone down, sister. Every day I tell myself the same thing that Philippus told me, that I should not expect to be better than those who have trained for millennia, just because I /want/ to be. But I train twice as hard as anyone..." she's probably not exaggerating, Hippolyta has said once or twice that Troia tries too hard - "...and I spent five years with the Titans, sister. Actual combat, not just training. That should count for something. I just wish..." She puffs her cheeks out, obviously still feeling the frustration, and shakes her head. "It doesn't matter."

    "Nightwing is very talented. When I first met him, I was sceptical. I did not think he could come close to Amazonian training, but I was wrong. But they have their own way of doing things. The Batman's way is... perhaps not the best for someone with Caitlin's strength. And I suggest swords. The discipline of a sword is greater than that of a spear, and that's what Caitlin needs. Besides..." she grins towards her fellow Titan. "You heard her. Swordfighting is cool."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin obligingly walks the broken section of plinth over and sets it in place with the others. In truth, one ca hardly miss the discomfort on her face; the little bit of showboating is going to come along with a price later, to be sure. But then again, it at least has made something of an impression on any Amazons who thought of Caitlin as a weak-willed mainlander not strong enough to gut out her own wounds.

"I-- armor? For me?" Caitlin blinks. "Golly, well, if you think it's for the best," she agrees. Her assent is a little timorous.

"I don't really... I don't know nothing about using weapons. Nightwing got really sore at me when we were sparring and he broke his escrima stick on my head. I made him new ones, but he was still grouchy about it. I'm worried I'd break something, and everything here is really old and precious."

She stands on one foot and scratches the back of her calf with her toes. "I can throw manhole covers pretty good, though," she offers. "They're everywhere and they're super heavy. I guess I could learn how to use a ... javelin," she agrees, cautiously. "I know I've got a lot to learn. About everything."

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana stands up from the stone bench she'd sat down upon. She walks over to stand beside Donna and to lean over against her so that their shoulders are touching. "Of course it means something." She says of the Titan training. "But that is a different kind of combat, to what happens here, it is a different way of moving your body, of preparing yourself for your opponent's attack. This... is tradition. Centuries of it. And you are very right when you say that I know how it feels. Because I sure as well do." She glances over to some of the other Amazons are lined up, having taken a knee, and are listening to their field instructor explain a battle scenario to them that they will be running later this afternoon.

"I stood before all of them, the youngest to ever embark upon the training. It took years for me to feel as though I was on the same level as them. It was... never easy to feel like I was always at the bottom of the entire army of Amazons we have here. But, everything passes in time, and even those moments - I find things to look back upon now and smile at, to feel nostalgic remorse for in that those days are in my past now. Such as the thrill of hearing the applause of the other as I completed my first archery course with a perfect score, or ran my first chariot race through to victory. You have so many great moments left to reach in your training, I just hope that you prepare for them and savor them when they come."

Diana looks up to Caitlin then and grins at her. "No Amazon can step on to our training fields, wearing anything less than the best armor we can provide. So yes, you need your own. You may not have the title of Amazon, but you certainly must look the part if you are to get the full experience of what we do here, yes?" She glances back to Donna, then back to Caitlin.

"We will make sure you try all of the weapon classes as well, sometimes you take to a specific one more than you realized you would... once you have it in your hands." Diana steps away then toward a rack of weapons and she plucks a gladiator sword up by it's pommel, then sweeps it up to let the leather wrapped hilt slap into the palm of her hand, blade-up, her eyes upon it. "I thought I was going to primarily be an archer, in my youth. Then I held a sword, a real sword. She looks back to them then. "Once I clashed blades, I felt a thrill of connection to the weapon."

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna leans into Diana, taking comfort in her sister's presence, though less in her words. Her eyes go back to the guards in training, and for a moment she wishes she was back there with them, listening to the scenario being outlined, preparing for the mock battle. As she listens to Diana talk, her lips form the shape of words she never quite brings herself to voice.

    She listens thoughtfully, and when Diana is finished she answers simply and in a quiet voice: "Your mother has given me so much, Diana. I just want to be useful."

    Simple, but telling. Donna has never called Hippolyta 'your mother' rather than just 'mother' before, and suddenly the fact that Donna is always to be found wearing the armor of the palace guard makes sense. Donna has never been able to hide her feelings from Diana, but this one was deeply buried, perhaps only surfacing this visibly now that Donna, Diana and Hippolyta are together. Even Caitlin may pick up a bit of that; maybe her own worry about not getting underfoot that she had voiced when she first arrived on the island is something Donna has felt for much of her life.

    Donna blinks, and shrugs the moment off with a shake of her head. "Stop /worrying/ Caitlin!" she says with a soft laugh. "You know how things get to be old? By being really hard to break. Besides, not everything is old. It just looks old because you think of this as being like ancient Greece. It's not like we haven't made anything new in thousands of years, you know!"

    "Besides, we are not primitives. We forge far better steel than the bendy trash you Americans make. Maybe we should get a pair of Escrima sticks forged up here for D... Nightwing. Even /your/ head would be unlikely to break them!" Donna gives Caitlin a wink.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
It's almost there. Donna's plaintive aside to Diana. It's the sort of thing Caitlin files away for future reference; it'll be years before the full weight of it lands on her. The subtleties of personal interaction are something the redhead struggles with, and the complex nexus of Donna's emotions are gordian knot too large for Caitlin to sort through.

But she does sense a friend in distress, and to that, Caitlin responds instinctively with a firmly reassuring hug. She may lack emotional intellect, but there's nothing wrong with her heart.

Then Donna makes that crack about American steel, and Caitlin rolls her eyes and propels her friend away from the hug with a flicker of her fingers. "Ruined the moment, Donna," Caitlin accuses her.

"I'm ... look, I'm willing to learn how to do it," she promises Diana, turning back to the Princess. "I'll try and turn the engineer brain off. Really, I will," she says, earnestly. "I sometimes overthink this kinda stuff. I just wanna--" she takes a slow, steadying breath. A subtle wave of fearful anxiety can be scented on her skin, and she twists her fingers together reflexively. "I just want to focus on being the best I can be. Today, that means being the best Amazon I can be."

Diana Prince has posed:
The stare from the Princess returns to Donna and she leans toward her again as she lowers the training sword in her hand to her side. "Caitlin will come to see those details in our craftsmanship, in time. They can take time to stand out to people who are not from here." She smiles softly to Donna before stepping around her sister to her left side and then leaning toward her again. "Our... mother." She corrects that bit that slipped in from Troia as well.

"It is settled then." Diana says as she places the sword in her hands tip-first against the grass while either of her hands lay on it's pommel now in front of her lap. "Donna will take off the remainder of the morning, to take Caitlin to see Alessia the Outfitter. She will thusly be fit for a set of her own training equipment and then, when cleared by the Healers, may join you in your own training Donna." She grins slightly to the two of them.

"I expect you two to work closely together, take care of one another, and help each other. I think you both can learn quite a lot from one another. You both, already, have great experiences in combat unrelated to this island - and its centuries-old - ways.

The Princess nods firmly once, then rests her gaze upon Caitlin. "Try not to pick up more giant rocks, to impress us though, yes?" She grins more openly to the redhead. "Even if it was quite the show of strength."

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna responds to Caitlin's accusation with a grin and a mischevious glint in her eye. The hug might have been nice, but in some ways the rolling of the eyes is more comforting. If their friendship has been a little stressed over the last few weeks, this seems so much more familiar; a return to the easy days at the tower where love and respect was so often hidden behind playful teasing.

    Diana's riposte about their mother causes Donna's eyes to widen - she has huge eyes anyway and it's a sight when she does that. "I didn't... I didn't mean..." she stutters, her cheeks flushing red. "Diana... I only meant she was your mother first," Donna explains lamely and not entirely truthfully. "I mean... I couldn't have asked for a better mother, I really... I just..." she sighs and lowers her head. "Diana... you and mother... I couldn't... I know how lucky I am. That's all I was saying. I wouldn't for one moment... I just want to be the best Amazon I possibly can be. To show... because you both... I owe you both that, for all that you have done for me."

    Donna puffs out a deep breath and looks up to Caitlin, finding a way out of the difficult subject in technical talk, of a sort. "No... don't turn the engineer brain off, Cait. It's not as different as you might think. Combat is all about problem solving and mechanics. For example, did you see why I lost that fight? Nightwing used to tell us to watch our opponents' eyes. Phillipus is far too seasoned a fighter to need to do that. If she'd done that, she would have seen me look away for a fraction of a second, and that wouldn't have given her an edge. No, I made a rookie mistake. When I looked away, for a moment I lost concentration, and that showed in my muscles before it showed in my eyes. Your body needs to be ready for the situation it is facing directly, not one it may be about to face in a few seconds. That's too long."

    "When I let myself become distracted, I was subconciously adjusting the tension in my muscles. We all do that naturally - our bodies tend to move very slightly towards whatever has our attention at that moment, a natural defensive instinct. The motion is fractional, but a really good fighter will see it. The way I held my arms and legs was no longer ideal for facing her, and she took advantage of that weakness before she even saw my attention wander. I lost proper leverage on my shield arm - that quarter-second it would take me to readjust the leverage in my upper arm allowed her to move my shield the small distance it took to open my guard. "

    Caitlin will have heard Donna talking this way to Nightwing before, when the Titan's two combat specialists would lose themselves in deep discussion, but it's the first time she has really addressed that kind of detail to Caitlin herself. Perhaps the first time Caitlin will have had reason to pay attention to the words, and consider the sheer detail that goes into the ages-old martial arts of the Amazons.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin listens carefully to Donna's explanation. Her eyes widen slightly. The subtlety of the art of war reveals itself to the redhead; a glimpse at a world that goes beyond merely brawling and into an art of martial combat. Effective a fighter though she is, Caitlin's technique is rudimentary at best and primarily aimed at clobbering enemies into submission. The concept of combat as a scientific technique is clearly a world-changing one for her. Hearing it from Nightwing is one thing; the Batlings always err on the side of intensity and their techniques are a little arcane. Here, though, are a group of women with a martial style that revolves around power *and* grace, and the idea it can be applied to Caitlin's skillset is clearly a novel idea.

"Golly. I'll..." Caitlin tugs her ear a few times, then starts pulling her thick red hair between her fingertips in agitation. "I never thought about it like that. I'm tanky, Princess," Caitlin tells Di. "Donna will tell you. Me dumb fighter, I-I-I-" she points, vaguely, "I go and I stand there and soak the hits, set Donna or Nightwing up for the takedown. Maybe I get lucky with a right cross, but--" Agitation is writ large on Caitlin's earnest features. "Isn't that the whole point of the team? Set 'em up, knock them down? I don't know how to fight like that. Why can't I just put Donna in a headlock until she gives up? That always works in the training room."

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana's response to Donna, and her nervous reaction, is to place a hand gently upon her shoulder, reassuring the young woman without really need to touch on it verbally. She does smile to her softly though, but otherwise just leaves it at that. She knows what the young woman meant, she doesn't need to chide her on it further.

Her eyes go to Caitlin then and she lowers her chin down to stare evenly at her. "Learning other forms of combat, is imperative to understanding your enemy's movements before they fully commit to them, Caitlin. This will help you, do... that 'tank thing' that you do. Have faith in that. You do not need to master any of it, if you do not wish to, but every little bit of knowledge that you put inside your mind about how situations unfold on the battlefield will inevitably advance you as a combatant."

The Princess looks to the women who are now rising back to the feet as their instructor has finished the lecture. She walks to the stand that she got the training sword from and returns it to its place amongst the rest. "You are both doing wonderfully, though, so do not think that I am doubting your abilities already. You are both capable of so much already, as is." She turns back to them, at least partway then.

"I need to go find the Queen now. I have laid out my plans for the Themysciran entrance into the greater world, she needs to decide on them. I am pushing for an embassy in Manhattan, I would like you both to consider it a home, once it is ready and in operation."

Diana smiles to them, then starts to walk back toward that staircase to the garden she'd come down from. "Go get your armor, Rockthrower. Help her, sweet Donna." The Princess says on her way.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna rests her hand on Diana's own, and Diana can feel the tension easing away, the brief moment of discomfort soon forgotten.

    "It works in the training room because I go easy on you, Cait." Surprisingly Donna doesn't say this with the normal teasing expression that might be expected. She looks quite serious. "For a start, I'm not trying to kill you. You have the strength, but if you were an enemy I wouldn't try sheer strength to escape, I'd hurt you instead. Headlocks are honestly not a great tactic against someone who means you harm and knows what they're doing."

    She's silent during Diana's own contribution on the subject, reacting only when talk turns to the embassy. "She's even... considering it?" Donna is clearly surprised, if a little incredulous. Wheels start to turn. She knows that Hippolyta won't consider her advice as seriously as she considers Diana's - by Amazonian standards, she's still young enough that people tend to think of her as a child. However she does have more experience of what Man's World has become than anyone other than Diana, and perhaps a few stories here and there might grease the wheels.

    Donna nods her head at Diana and gives her a big smile."Good luck Diana! I'll bring Caitlin to see you later when we have finished her makeover. See you soon."

    She hooks an arm into Caitlin's and tilts her head towards the armory. "Come along then Cait, let's get you armored up and see what the healers say about a training schedule. The team tactics are good. Nightwing drilling us all with that stuff made a big difference to how effective we were. I gave you all a bit of one-on-one stuff, a bit of... of what I know. But I never took it that seriously."

    Donna's expression grows a little grim. "I kinda... didn't want to tread on Dick's toes." She doesn't seem to notice the verbal slip - but then Diana probably knows anyway. "That was a mistake. If I'd taken it more seriously, then maybe..." the rest is unspoken. Maybe Caitlin would have been better equipped to deal with Doomsday. To defeat him would be too much to ask, but at least to defend herself. For all that Caitlin and Donna have worked out their feelings so far, there's clearly progress to be made with getting over the guilt.