2625/Memory: Themysciran Healing VII

Memory: Themysciran Healing VII
Date of Scene:	26 July 2020
Location:	Palace - Themyscira City
Synopsis:	Donna and Diana take Caitlin to a 'dive bar' on Themyscira. Caitlin tries wine for the first time and decides she doesn't hate it, and the two younger women talk more about the path of their lives-- the past, and the future.
Cast of Characters:	Donna Troy, Caitlin Fairchild, Diana Prince

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Donna Troy has posed:
    Themysicra runs on a lunar calendar. It takes a little getting used to. The months of 29 and 30 days alternating are easy enough, but that leaves an oddity when it comes to synchronizing with the solar year. This is resolved by adding an extra month every third year, and two extra months every thirty-third year. Today is the first day of the thirteenth month of this odd sort of leap year, which apparently involves a month-long festival.

    Caitlin is beginning to get used to the pace of life on Themyscira. Her grasp of Greek is good enough that she'd come to realize that there are some major differences between the Greek of her text books and the Greek spoken here, and she's put those text books down and started to pick up the language as it is actually spoken. She has been training every day, with no further accidents - though to Donna's disgust, she now more steadfastly than ever refuses to commit to her attacks with a sword, though that limitation has largely gone from other aspects of her combat technique. Caitlin is slowly becoming a rather good fighter, and while she's still a long way behind the Amazons in her training, that strength makes up for it.

    Nevertheless, this festival month is looking like a real change of pace. The day had been spent at the palace, with a number of rather boring rituals to the gods taking place, and outside the city where a display of Amazon martial skill and athleticism had taken place. It had rapidly become clear to Caitlin that if Themyscira ever enters the Olympic Games, they'll go home with a lot of gold medals.

    The evening of the first day of this festival is a very relaxed affair. Everyone in the city is in a festive mood, though there are no particular feasts or events to attend. Instead, Donna has insisted on going through with her long-term plan to get Caitlin to a bar.

    The place Donna leads Diana and Caitlin to is probably the Themysciran equivalent of a dive bar, but it's far from seedy. Low on the slopes of the mountain, the bar itself is inside a small cave, but it opens out onto a large flagstoned area overlooking the sea. Dozens of tables are scattered around, and the place is heaving with Amazons relaxing noisily after the exertions of the first day of festival. The sun has dipped low over the waters of the Aegean, and the light of countless oil-lamps burn in sconces around the area, casting a dim but pleasant light that seems to make the gentle hubbub of voices seem even warmer.

    After the pomp and ceremony of the day, it all seems so blessedly simple. In the time it takes Donna to return to the table the three had taken for themselves bearing a tray with three bottles of wine and three glasses, the group has received a few distant friendly waves, but remarkably little attention, all in all.

    "This bottle is a very good wine," Donna says with a grin as she places the first bottle down on the table. "This is a resinated wine," she says with the second. "A little stronger, and with a bitter-sweet resin taste. It's less bitter than the Greek retsinas you'll get in Partriach's world. And this one is a burnt wine. Like brandy." She grins at Caitlin. "It's strong, you might want to be careful with this one." She passes out the glasses, and pours herself some of the brandy with a satisfied smile.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Bullied into drinking wine. At a *bar*. What the world has come to for Caitlin?

The training has been good for her. The time away from the world. That thirteenth month is like the rest of Themyscira. Extra. Timeless. It's only been a few months since she left home but it already feels like longer than that. Like Doomsday was another lifetime ago.

And in truth, the socialization Donna continues to drag the reluctant wallflower into is doing Caitlin a lot of good, perhaps as much as the training is. She's learning to embrace customs and norms wholly alien to her own; new ideas and concepts about both what the world is, and what the world ought to be. To say it's been an adjustment would be a vast understatement. Themyscira is transforming Caitlin.

Part of her never wants to leave.

"I want to reiterate that I do this under protest," Caitlin announces with a wry, resigned grin. She sits quite properly in the chair, back straight and hands in her lap. The white toga common to Themyscira was a comfort to return to. She'd gone home to attend to some personal affairs, pick up some things, and returned at the first opportunity with Diana. Her little apartment in the Palace was overflowing with study materials, books, and a few 'creature comforts' from home and gifts for the friends she'd made thus far. "But I don't wanna be rude and refuse such a polite invitation."

She leans sideways with eyes on Donna and whispers sotto voce: "She's the PRINCESS, you know."

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana had absolutely no problem being here. She knew of this place well. She used to sit across the street in the balcony of the barrel-smith's building and watch the women coming and going from the bar on particularly busy nights, when she was a very little girl. She used to crawl up the stacks of barrels and 'parkour' her way up into the balcony to sit in the corner between the furniture on the balcony, and put her face up between the railing's gaps to watch the women inside drinking, socializing and ... just having adult fun.

She logged to be apart of it, but it was in the past now, she was an adult and she'd been in here many times since then in her days of growing up on Themyscira. Of course, this is her first time here in 100 years though, so it is a special night.

When Donna returns to the table, Diana steps back inside from the dimly lit patio area to move to a seat and lower herself down into it. She's wearing a sleeveless white tunic with a leather bodice tightly cinched up her sides over top of the tunic. Around her waist is a leather belt that dips down over her lap and has two golden buckles on either of her hips, with draping leather cords that lay down over her short white flowing skirt. Leather corded sandals wrap around her legs up to her knees while her thighs between skirt and sandals remain bare and exposed.

Diana's hands come to rest on the table. She grins from Donna to Caitlin. "One of you far too eager to know all there is to know about alcoholic indulgences and the other, reluctant to know anything." She comments in her smoky flavored voice, amusement thick upon her sculpted features. "You are made for one another."

Diana accepts a drink and thanks Donna softly, then sips it and closes her eyelids to enjoy the flavor upon her tongue. "Mmm." She opens her eyes again. "I like it."

Donna Troy has posed:
    The truth is that Caitlin's time on Themyscira has been transformative on Donna, too. A child of two worlds, she'd never really found a way to integrate the two before. Her first few weeks in America had taken some pretty hard adjustments, a fact only Diana knew - but before long she was pretty well acclimatized. After a few years had passed, she was wedded to her phone, in love with coca cola and couldn't imagine life without the Internet. Her return to Themyscira had been almost as big a shock.

    Her childhood on Themyscira had never exactly been lonely, but she was on an island with nobody even remotely close to her age. When Diana had first come back and met her, Donna had been delighted to have someone within a /thousand years/ of her own age to play with. Having her close American friend Caitlin here had been a revelation. Introducing her to Themysciran culture with a perspective on American culture of her own had been a huge help in finding a way to integrate the two parts of her life into something approaching a whole.

    There was however one part of Caitlin's presence on Themyscira that Donna wasn't too keen on, and that was Caitlin's insistence on calling her /princess/ all the time. She'd even got their frequent companion Chara doing it. Donna's totally not a princess, and it's getting annoying. I mean /technically/ yeah, but not really. That's Diana. Not that Donna can say anything, because that would seem ungrateful, and it's basically the /opposite/ of that, and... look, it's confusing alright? That's why she says nothing about it, and just pours Caitlin a small glass of the brandy. Diana probably knows though.

    "Wine is a part of our culture," Donna insists. "In ancient times it was pretty much all people drank, which is why we have the watered wine with meals. It purified the water. We have cleaner water now of course, but it still tastes good. Do you know the very first thing Diana did when I came to America was stop me from drinking wine? I was outraged."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Diana's words prompt a giggle from Caitlin and she favors Donna with a fond look. Lest it be taken as a concession, it's immeditely followed by Caitlin blowing a raspberry at Donna. She laughs apologetically and holds a hand over her mouth, unable to conceal a tittering grin.

The wine is poured. Caitlin eyes the glass warily for a few seconds as her hands go into her lap again. It doesn't jump up and bite her so she straightens her shoulders and reaches for it.

"See, you should have come to Mass with me," Caitlin tells Donna. She sniffs at the wineglass. "Communion once a week. Though you're not supposed to, like, *drink* it drink it. Father Pat had a great joke about that one." She grins; on the trip home, she'd met her new parish priest, and he'd clearly left an impression on Caitlin's budding new outlook. Like some layers of internal conflict had been lifted away from her. She'd certainly never been so effusive about Father Douglas, the previous occupant of that role.

"Uh, what's the word. 'Eis igian'," Caitlin toasts, and takes a small sip of the wince. She winces immediately, sticks with it, and gives it five seconds.

"Okay, it's... wow, this is real wine, huh?" It's given a thoughtful look and she takes another, slower sip, and smacks her lips.

"All right, I take it back. Wine's okay," she declares, and sets the glass back down.

But doesn't take her hand off it. "I still don't wanna get sloppy drunk, so if I start getting drunk, someone tell me," she requests, and looks mute appeal of Diana and Donna.

Diana Prince has posed:
"And if I had not stopped you..." Diana says to Donna about their first night together in New York. "--then someone else would have, and you would have gotten even more 'outraged', as you say." She shows a quick, but notable, grin to Donna before her eyes sweep to Caitlin.

She returns the toast to Caitlin, adding on. "To /your/ health, Caitlin dear." Before sipping her own drink and smiling pleasantly again afterward. As she settles the mug down in front of her, she places her hands on either sides of its base and lets her gaze go from one of them to the other. "You know, Caitlin..." Diana starts, another grin growing across her lips. "The more you say things like that at a place like this, the less likely anyone is to do it. You are setting yourself up to very much fall rump backward into full drunken 'walk of shame' out of this place in a couple of hours from now."

She glances back to Donna. "You concur with me on this, yes?" She asks of her sister. "I have learned enough about how these places work to know that that is the case at least."

She moves to raise her drink up again, but pauses briefly before adding over its rim. "Do not worry, I will keep you from evacuating your stomach on to your lovely hair." Now she's just teasing Caitlin.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Not exactly wine, it's the burnt wine. Like Brandy," Donna says with a smile, totally ignoring Caitlin's impish raspberrying. "It's a spirit, and very strong. Three or four times as strong as the regular wine, that's why I poured a small glass. Next try the others. And don't worry, we'll warn you to stop drinking if you start singing loud songs or picking fights."

    Donna turns to Diana with a broad grin, and winks at her sister. "However if you just get /fun/ drunk, Cait? Roll with it. I promise not to film you and send it to Dick. And be warned, Diana's not saying she'll keep you from throwing up, she's just offering to hold your hair back for you if you do."

    Donna sits back comfortably, savoring her Themysciran brandy. "As I recall Diana, someone else was trying to stop me, but failing. That guy... was he it Andre? Gallery assistant you had back then. Might have been. He was too nervous to actually finish a sentence though. I do not believe there was anyone there other than you who would have dared attempt to take my glass of wine from me. " Her smile grows wide at the memory. "I remember demanding you take me to go and fight Nazis," she admits, smirking sheepishly at Caitlin for a moment before turning her eyes back to Diana. "You had told me stories about fighting them and was jealous. I hadn't quite got the history of it all then.

    Donna raises her glass. "A toast. To Themyscira. To America. To sisters. And to punching Nazis."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Right in the face," Caitlin agrees, and hoists her glass again. She wrinkles her nose at Donna then laughs-- she's a good sport and takes the teasing with a good humor. And, another (relatively) small sip of the brandy. Because it's polite, you see.

"So... I've got some news from home," she says, and sets her glass down. "You remember right before D...oomsday," she says, forcing the word. "I bailed on NOWHERE?" Her eyes cut sideways to Diana and she shifts apologetically, backtracking. "I got this-- really, really good job at a government agency," she clarifies. "I was was underqualified for it, and the pay was obscenely good. Some, uh... stuff happened, and I found out they were doing illegal gene modifications. Cloning," she clarifies. "Using Superman's genetic code. Probably for some kind of super-soldier program. I quit and blew the whistle on them after I found out what I was working on."

Caitlin digs in a belt pouch for her phone and pulls up an image. It's shown to the two women. A young man, black hair, familiar Kryptonian jawline-- and wearing medical bandages while running from gunfire.

"It takes time for the legal stuff to get clear, but it looks like he escaped right after we left. Told everyone he was Superman, returned." A little sadness in her voice. "I guess he's going by 'Conner' now." She turns the phone around and looks wistfully at the image. "I felt so sure I was doing the right thing, quitting, but... I don't know. Maybe the world *needs* a new Superman. He's certainly as close as we'll get to it." Fingertips rest on the screen.

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana's left hand raises up to cup the side of her own face, her elbow resting on the edge of the table. She stares at Donna with a sisterly-love in her eyes at the memories of those moments. "Andrei, yes." Diana tells her in response. "Did you know that he had a crush on you?" She asks, now grinning softly again. "He asked me the next day if he could get your number to show you around town. When I told him you were only sixteen, he nearly turned as red as Caitlin's hair." She glances to Caitlin, grins more widely and then looks again to Donna. "I've never heard anyone say 'I'm sorry' quite so many times, quite so quickly."

The Princess raises her drink up again to sip from it before her stare goes then to Caitlin and as she relays her story about her former employment, her expression falls more serious.

She looks to the phone, sees Conner upon it... she doesn't know him. She can see the differences in his face to know he's not Superman though.

When it's all said and laid out there, Diana looks back up to Caitlin. "The world doesn't need another Superman, it needed our Superman." She replies. "But in his absence, it needs all of us." She glances back to Donna, then back to Caitlin. "To step up and fight in his stead. All of the heroes of Earth to unite and stand together, to represent what Superman stood for. He showed us how to do it, and how to do it properly. It is what he would want his legacy to forge in its aftermath."

There's a pause from the Princess then before she adds softly. "I should look in to all of this when we return." And she sips her drink then and there again.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Oh Em GEE!" Yeah, Donna really has Americanized in some ways. "He never did. He was so OLD!" Donna catches herself and bursts out laughing. "I mean he was probably several years younger than I am now." She looks thoughtful a moment, then her eyes find Diana's, and narrow a little.

    "Come to think of it, when I saw him later, he said I looked like you. So you know, there is that. Probably had a crush on you but was way too intimidated and thought I was the next best thing. Mind you, if he knew how old you were..." she sticks her tongue out at Diana, then buries a smirk in her glass as she takes another drink.

    With her brandy finished, Donna pours herself out some of the resinated wine. "It's odd isn't it Diana. How people always say we look alike. I guess my... you know. My birth parents. They were probably locals, from one of the Greek islands." She muses quietly, swirling her wine in her glass and watching the glint of a galaxy of oil lamps reflected in the dark liquid. "Descendants of mother's people a hundred generations on. It's amazing to think about it really. They must have stayed in the same place all that time, barely intermixing. Probably fisher-folk or something. What would my life have been if... I'd probably never have left my island. My village. "

    She shakes her head to rid it of the thoughts, and looks over at Caitlin's phone to study the picture for a while. "Doesn't look like a Conner to me," she says. "Huh. Yeah, honestly I think Diana's right. You can't clone someone's personality. Kal was... well. He always had time for us."

    Donna looks morose for a few moments, but it's quickly replaced by a smile and she claps a hand on Caitlin's shoulder. "Nah. You did right. Secret government programs are always something you should be suspicious of. If they didn't doubt the morals of what they were doing themselves, they wouldn't have kept it secret. I mean you can't say that the concept of a super soldier is a bad idea in itself. That's kind of what we are, if you think about it. But here... the Amazons. We're not soldiers to fight in whatever war a government choses to point us at, you know? There is a reason why our culture is martial, but at the same time so focused on... the sacred. On sorority, on love."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin's sniggering at Donna's discomfiture while she slips her phone away. The comforting touch from Donna is returned in kind, and she leans over to half-hug Donna with one arm and gently bump their brows together. "I can point you at the right people, Di," Caitlin assures the princess. "Hopefully it's handled, but it's kind of like a fungus. You can't ever cut it out. You just treat it when the shrooms pop up."

More brandy. Gulp. Caitlin's normally excellent posture relaxes a little as tension unwinds from her strong back.

"I think that's what I like best about this place," she agrees. An elbow rests on the table and she puts her chin in her hand. "It's like the Titans. My first family. Christmas. Remember when Vic programmed the exterior lights to look like a big Christmas tree?" A fond recollection, and she smiles a little dreamily at the happy memories.

"Feels like that here. Just... love. Love for everythin'. Being nice for the sake of being nice. Everyone here'za perfect immortal warrior and I haven't met anyone who was mean. Some of 'em are a little *curt*," she allows, "but no one's cruel, neither."

She looks to Donna. "It's takin' a little getting used to," she concedes. "This isn't New York by a long shot. But... I'unno. Going home, talking to people. Getting some perspective. Feels like if anywhere in the world is doing it right, it might be Themyscira."

She goes to sip more brandy and finds her glass empty. "How'm I doing?" she inquires, and shows Donna the empty cup.

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana smiles warmly to Donna gain, besides the age jab which just gets a momentary smirk from her. "I am honored to be likened to your beauty, sister." She says before she averts her gaze to two other Amazons who step in to the establishment, both being members of Hippolyta's court. After a second of thought, the Princess looks back to Donna and Cait.

"I should go speak with them. They had... quite an explosion of emotiosn today over some of the council's issues." Diana starts to rise up from the table and as she goes she passes by Caitlin and offers her a pair of affectionate pats to her shoulder. "Do not fall in to drunken disorderly behavior without me here to enjoy it. I will be back." The Princess says with a grin to the two as she steps away -- drink in hand -- to go speak with the elder Amazon women.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "We're not perfect," Donna concedes to Caitlin. "Themyscira has its flaws too. And the truth is there is much that Patriarch's world has done well. And, you know. Maybe part of it is that we are just a small island. I guess that makes it easier to keep things under control. But yes, 'Paradise island' isn't so badly named."

    Donna glances into Caitlin's glass, and gives her a nod. "You're doing fine, Cait" she says, as she tops up Caitlin's glass.

    She glances in the direction of the two councillors Diana has spotted, and gives Diana a smile and a nod. "Always business, sister. Go and unruffle some feathers, and do not worry about us. I won't let Cait get too badly drunk, and I think she is becoming well enough known now that nobody is likely to pick a fight with her if she gets a little rowdy."

    "Diana's being trying to make some... changes in policy," She tells Caitlin. "Her embassy plan. She has a lot of supporters. There has always been a strong faction of interventionists on Themyscira who believe we should be taking a more active role in guiding the world. As you say, we have things more right than anywhere else. But there are also those who are more conservative, who believe that we have been let down too often by Patriarch's World, and that the most important thing is that we do what we must to preserve our own culture. The gods are oddly silent on the debate. Apparently it's something we must decide ourselves."

    Donna takes a swig of her brandy and leans forwards. "Mother is... a traditionalist. One of the conservatives. But she is open minded. She recognizes that her daughters have spent time in Partriarch's world, and if we say it is time, then that is worth considering. My opinion is that we have these gifts from the gods to be an example to the world, and we cannot be that example if we hide from the world. You have seen how many in America have been inspired by Diana. Not just because she saves people, but because of her attitude, her compassion. She shows people a better way. We all should do that."

    Donna goes for another drink, but stops with the glass half way to her mouth as she bursts into giggles. "Oh god. The Christmas Tree lights. Last Christmas Gar tried to persuade me that we should reprogram the sequence so that once every ten minutes the lights would spell out 'Vic smells of oil'. He wanted to see how long it would take Vic to notice."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Those two and their pranks," Caitlin sighs, and giggles fondly. "Or that Easter when I hid all those Cadbury eggs, and Kori and Silkie found 'em all before anyone woke up. I didn't think that moth thing could actually get sick, but 'pparently a pound of chocolate will do it." Her Iowa accent doesn't come through much unless she's stressed, but the lazy drawl is coming through with more inflection.

She eyes her brandy, then sips it, then leans forward and rests her elbows on the table with folded arms. Eyes drop to the ancient stone tabletop, then back to Donna.

"Um... speaking of love, I owe you an apology," she says, quietly. "When you told me about you and Rae, I had some... pretty uncharitable thoughts." Her eyes flit to Donna, then drop in shame. "Not uncharitable. Prejudiced." Shoulders rise and fall with a pained exhalation. "I should have been more supportive. I try to be better than my ... programming," she says, forcing the word out. "I know the church stuff, I know part of that is-- I can't help it. Core personality module. There are some really intolerant people in the church and I- I guess I had internalized some more of that than I ought've."

"Talked about it in confession when I went to mass, and Father Pat, he said... he said really, the person I should apologize to, is you. So--" she lays her forearms on the table, hands up, and hangs her head. A supplicative gesture. "'m sorry I wasn't a better friend," she apologizes. "It shouldn't have taken me so long to get my head right about you bein' happy."

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna takes a deep breath and points at Caitlin with her glass. "Nope. No. You don't owe me an apology," she insists. "I shouldn't have... I should have eased you into it more. In my defense I was kinda bleeding out at the time." She breaks into a grin. "So maybe I wasn't thinking entirely straight and wasn't taking your sensibilities into account."

    Donna takes a swig of the brandy, puts the glass down and rests her hand on Caitlin's arm. "Listen. You had a mixed reaction, right? Because part of you was happy for me, and part of you was thinking... your weird prejudices. Two different thoughts, right? Well. One of those is /you/, and one of those is what you've been told. Instincts versus instructions, right? Well instructions come from outside. Instincts... that's what you are. But you know, Cait... look around you."

    Donna gestures wide, and follows her own gesture to look at the crowd. "There." She points to a pair of women sitting on the balcony, looking out at the ocean. "There." A couple more women sitting at a table, laughing a little too loudly, one with her hand on the other's leg. "Open your eyes. An island full of women. Three thousand years. Ask yourself, do you think your God would call them wrong to feel love for one another? Would he wish them to deprive themselves of love? Don't you guys say 'God is love'? Or is that one of the other ones..."

    She sits back, her face creasing into a puzzled frown for a moment, then reaches for her glass and takes a swig. "Anyway. The point is, people fall in love. Love is a good thing. How can love be wrong? It doesn't make the slightest bit of sense. There are different types of love. The love we feel for friends, or for family. The love we feel for a lover. The abstract love we feel for people we've never met, never will meet, but we care for them anyway just because they are people. The love we have for ourselves if we are healthy in our minds. The love of friends who are somehow more than friends because it's... the point is, Cait. Love is healthy. Love is good. Love is... why we are people. The idea that you could point at two people and say... 'oh no, not you two. You can't love each other, that would be wrong'. That's... crazy, Cait. It makes no sense."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Yeah, I know," Caitlin agrees, simply. "That's why I told Father Pat I probably wasn't comin' back to Church. Not if it means givin' up bein' friends with you."

She reaches for her brandy, downs it all, and eyes the empty glass. Then holds it out to Donna again.

It's kind of a big statement. Like Caitlin deciding to give up on cooking.

"It wasn't just you and Rae, it was-- I mean, it was like you said. Y'all here. /Happy/." She gestures emphatically at the women in the bar. "Like it'd be... like it'd be, *maybe* one thing if you *knew* it was wrong an' did it anyway, but you're doing it, and you're happy, and it's not ending the world. What're you supposed to do? Be *alone* for three thousand years? I don't date at all, and even I think of that kinda timeline and I'm like--" she puts her palms facing each other on the table, spreads them apart. "Like whaaaaaaat?"

"n'yway, he pulled me aside after and asked me what was going on. I think the whole 'superhero in physical rehab and my best friend's from a mythical Greek island' thing got him curious. He told me--" she looks up at Donna and screws her face up. "Nevermind, not gonna lecture you on Jesuit interpretation of catechism. But he said..."

She screws her eyes shut, thinking. "Kinda what you said. God is love, an' anything that stands in the way of love, isn't godly. So."

"I still felt bad about it though," she tacks on at the end, a little lamely. "Also for stabbin'. Mostly for the stabbing. But the other thing, too." Her pupils are a little dilated and Caitlin's eartips are turning decidedly pink. She leans over and tries to look at Donna's rib. "Hey, it didn't scar, did it?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna tops up Caitlin's glass, this time giving her a little of the resinated wine. "Try this one," she says. "The flavor is... a bit different. You might not like it, but give it a try. Some people adore it." It's also a lot less strong than the brandy, and if she wouldn't entirely admit it to herself, Donna doesn't want Caitlin to get /too/ drunk.

    "If he said that, this Father Pat..." she gives a shrug and returns to her own glass. "Well, why would you have to leave? Sounds like he understands things well enough. I..." she smiles an odd smile and blinks a few times. "Cait. I... that's really touching, that you'd give up church for me like that. But I don't want you to. It's part of what you are, you know? Just because... look, if some of the people who you go to church with disagree... well they're wrong. Even your priest says that. So... don't okay? But it's..."

    Donna sighs, puts down her glass and leans around the table to wrap her arms around Caitlin. "I love you Cait. Not like... not like that, don't worry. But... I can't tell you what it's meant to me, having you here. It's... " She sighs, and leans her forehead against Caitlin's. "I don't know what I'm gonna do. When you go. I guess... I think I owe it to mom to stay a while longer. And it's not like the Titans need me any more. But I'm going to miss you horribly. And the scar has almost gone. I heal pretty well."

    Finally she pulls out of the hug, sits back in her chair and takes a deep swig of her drink. "It was just a little cut. Accident, one of those things. Stop /fussing/, Cait!"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin hugs Donna in return and doesn't hold back much on the strength. Not a lot of people can weather a full-force Caitlin hug. "I love you too, Donna." Her eyes are misting up a bit. A trembling little smile works over her lips at the mention of leaving and departing. When Donna accuses her of fussing, Caitlin laughs. It's somewhere between a laugh and a sob, with a bit of a hiccough, and she nods with grateful enthusiasm for Donna's tactful change of topic.

" I'm not going anywhere for a while yet," she promises. She sips the wine, finds it palatable, and sips some more. "I just went home to check on things, like I said. I'm not..." She exhales reedily, trying to stabilize herself.

"I don't know if there's really gonna be much for the Titans," she confesses. "Everyone's just kind of... checked out. Gone home, most of 'em. Raven's the only one still really living in the tower at this point. Vic moved back in with his parents, Kori's ... I think she said 'treehouse' and I'm just hoping it's not some kid's fort she's squatting in. Gar wants to get into movies. Band's ... kinda broken up at this point," she says, quietly. "Submitted a thesis project proposal for Columbia's biology department. I did some good work at NOWHERE. Might be a MS in Biology for me. Maybe even a doctorate. Never thought about it before, but..." She shrugs at Donna. "Y'know. Punching problems into submission worked, until it didn't. Maybe I need to find a new approach."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Do you have any idea how much better you are going to be at punching problems into submission?" Donna asks with a soft laugh. "Cait... you have improved so much these last few months. Maybe you're thinking to yourself , you know. Archery. Sword fighting. Horse riding. It's not like you're learning things that would be helpful in Metropolis, right? But that's not true. You understand what to do with your strength so much better than before. For that matter, you're a lot stronger. I mean... fitter, all round. Have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately? 'Cos..."

    Donna falls silent and leans forwards, resting her elbows on the table. She reaches a finger down to the rim of her glass, running it gently around the rim in slow circles. "I'm just saying... I dunno what I'm saying. I mean... a doctorate. Why not. Another kind of strength. Maybe... maybe it's a good idea to step away from it. At least for a while. I don't think I can. I mean... maybe there's no more Titans. But..."

    She drifts into a short silence, her eyes roaming across the courtyard to find Diana, where she stands with the two councillors in deep discussion. "Maybe you've earned it, Cait. I mean earned the chance to try something different. A different kind of life. Take the time and then you'll know what's the best thing for you. But I know my path. Titans or not, I... you're not the only one who has improved. I... I guess I got pretty sloppy in my time in America. But I also learned things. And I'm starting to really kind of integrate that."

    "You know, a few days ago, Phillipus said to me... she said 'if only your archery was that good'... that's like... I mean basically she doesn't say things like that to /anyone/. Well, apart from Diana." Donna breaks into a broad grin, and picks up her glass to finish off her retsina. "I know I have a lot to learn compared to the rest. I mean I kind of get to cheat, you know? Not all Amazons have the same gifts, and my speed, my strength... well it makes up for a lot, I guess. And I... gods, I'm talking to much." She looks very serious at Caitlin for a moment, then bursts out laughing and pours herself some more wine.

    "Maybe I'll spend a couple more years really working hard. Then come back to America for a few years. A little time here, a little time there, where I can make a difference. Especially if Diana gets her own way. With an embassy. But..."

    Donna puts her glass down again and rubs the back of her neck. "Rae's still living at the tower? I guess... I mean I'm not sure she really has anywhere else to go. I..." she sighs softly. "I probably messed that up pretty well, didn't I?"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin shifts uncomfortably at the mention of 'mirrors', looking away for a moment. She wears her heart on her sleeve and her sudden anxiety is evident in the shifting of her body language, momentarily becoming defensive with a fold of arms and her athletic shoulders hunching forward. Donna's quite right about the change in Cait's physique and fitness.

But there's a reason there is only one small mirror in Caitlin's room, on the vanity-- and it's usually left covered when not in use.

"I don't think you messed it up any worse than the rest of us did," Caitlin says, trying to sound reassuring. She eyes Donna's glass and then refills it for her. "We're all her friends. We all tried. She just... locked the door up. Did that ward thing she does when Gar was being a pest. She'd come out of her room less and less, then I guess about ... 'unno. Few weeks ago, she just stopped coming out at all."

She plants elbows on the table and palms her face, rubbing briskly. "Golly. Is it us, or the wine? Seems like every time we talk it's an emotional yo-yo," Caitlin tells Donna. "All the happy, all the sad, it's just-- all of the everything with us lately."

A palm slides under a cheekbone and she tilts her head, looking at Donna. "Y'know if you do end up making it back to New York, you can always come live with me," she offers. "My brother's helping me find a condo, 's one of the things I asked him to help me with. It felt a little cutthroat, what with the property prices dropping, but he says 'No rules in New York real estate'."

"I'm-- I'm just..." A hand flops inarticulately. "If you want. There'd be a place for you."

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna wobbles her hand. "Partly the wine," she says. "Partly just we're dealing with some crap, you know? Changes in our lives kind of have that effect. But mostly the wine." Donna smirks, then struggles to keep control of her lips, and eventually gives up and burst into a fit of giggles. Eventually she takes a long drink just to control it.

    "That would be nice, Cait. Staying with you. Back in New York... you know, when I first turned up in America, that's where I was living. Before I hooked up with the Titans. Diana has an apartment there, and for the first while, I was living with her. Talk about emotional yo-yo. That was a weird time. I was so excited when I arrived. Diana had told me so much about Patriarch's World, and I was just dying to see it." She breaks into a grin. "She didn't even know I was coming. It must have been a shock, but you know Diana. She took it in her stride. And it was amazing. I was finally there, in Diana's New York. I was going to take the place by storm, you know? Fix everything. Tell people how much Partiarch's World had things wrong. Show them the right way to do everything." The grin widens. "Punch Nazis."

    It occurs to Donna that talking so much makes your mouth quite dry, and she needs another drink. Which she takes. "I hadn't really realized how different it would all be. It's hard to explain the kinds of things that took me by surprise to someone who... I don't know. Maybe you can. But it was like... nobody knew me. That really... everyone knows me here. Everyone knows everyone. It hadn't really occurred to me what that meant. Like Diana had lived there for years, but even then, I couldn't just tell some random person I met that I was Diana's sister and expect them to know who Diana is. There are thousands of Dianas in New York. It was... I guess about a week after I arrived, I was sitting with Diana, watching TV with her. You know, trying to get a handle on this new world. And I lay down with my head in her lap and I just... it all felt too much. Diana asked if I wanted to go home and that just made it worse. It was... why am I talking about this? Oh yeah. Changes. Changes are complicated."

    Donna rubs her chin thoughtfully, then looks up at Caitlin again. "Oh. Yeah... staying with you. That would be really nice Cait. I guess... that gives me something... A reason to go back. Rae must hate me. I don't blame her."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin squeezes Donna's hand reassuringly, making eye contact. "She doesn't hate you." Her tone is resolute-- firm and reassuring. "I mean, anymore than she hates anyone else," she amends. "Probably a good deal less. I think... I think for her, opening up to us was very hard. An' it hurt her a lot when she lost Don and Kole."

She sips her wine and looks back at Donna. "Y'never told me that part about Diana," she points out. "I mean that-- the thing with how different it was. I guess you couldn't've, 'cause of the secret identity thing," Caitlin allows, and waves it off.

"But-- I know how it feels to be... like, surprised by stuff," she points out. "I could tell you how to field-strip a machine gun blindfolded, but it was six weeks into the fall semester before anyone asked me if I was washing my clothes. Peanu-- William," she amends of her brother, "he tried his best. He'd come by and check on me. I think he hired one of the girls in the dorm to help me with stuff, too. She'd come by and make sure I had food and hygiene stuff. Help me wash my hair."

There's laughter from across the bar, and her head swivels a little erratically to observe it. It pivots back to Donna. Caitlin's wide green eyes blink a little owlishly.

"Wait, what was I saying? Oh, right. We could be roomies!" she declares again. "It'd be fun. Except we wouldn't have GarFunk drifting down the hallways, or Vic blasting K-pop at one AM to annoy Wally and Richard," she grins.

Donna Troy has posed:
    The promise of an absence of GarFunk or K-Pop doesn't seem a particularly cheery notion for Donna, and she sighs softly. "I'm the only one she's got a reason to hate, Cait. It must have been... she must have... I let her down more than anyone else. It can't have been easier on her, and then I just walked away. Dick too. He could... we could talk, you know? There was a kind of... a connection. I think I took a part of the wieght off of his shoulders. You know, someone he could talk to about... not as much as Rae though. Gods, my timing sucks. I don't know, maybe in a year... in a year or two, everyone will have processed things you know. Maybe we can..."

    Donna stares out to sea for a while, then grabs her glass and takes a deep drink. "Oh Hera... Cait, I could tell you some stories. I was such an idiot. When I arrived, I mean. Like... we have these things... image frames. Like a kind of video clip. But they're not... we don't use them like... well. Photographs. Seeing photographs like... everywhere. That was fascinating. Printed! Magazines and newspapers. I couldn't believe it. Diana kept having to drag me away from... that's how I got so interested in photography. Fell in love with it. And staring at people! Can you imagine seeing old people for the first time? Like half the people in the city were old. Three quarters were unfit. It was... god I stared at people a lot." She bursts out laughing and runs her hand through her hair.

    "Saluting people! That was another thing. The first few days I was trying to puzzle it out. Like... when's the right time to salute people? The rules seemed so weird. Then I realized the answer was never. And cola! The first time... I couldn't stop laughing. We have naturally carbonated drinks here. Some things that are fizzy by fermentation. But nothing as fizzy as that. I saw people drinking it and wanted to try some. Sitting in a restaurant drinking cola through a straw and telling Diana that it hurt my tongue and wanted to climb up through my nose, and just sitting there laughing like an idiot every time I took a sip. And cartoons! God I loved cartoons so much."

    Donna sits back, slumping slightly and grinning at Caitlin. She drifts sideways a little, then corrects herself. "This is good, Cait. Today was a good day."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"See, we're both goobers who had to figure it all out as we went," Caitlin points out. Hands spread in a plaintive gesture. "I mean, everything. All we had was a bunch of skills that had nothing to do wit' survivin' in the real world. It was all new, all the time, and we had to fake it and make it look like we weren't doing it. You had Diana, I had William, but..."

She blinks, owlishly. "I mean, we all really kinda did it with each other. Us, the ... Titans," she says, gesturing in a broad circle with her hand. She comes perilously close to knocking her glass over. "Vic was dealing with his upgrades, Nightwing wanted to stop bein' the Robin, Raven was learning how to have feelings, Gar was... Gar," Caitlin allows with a fond tone.

"But th'-- my point, the point," she ays, leaning into Donna's space. One hand alights on Donna's wrist and she squeezes firmly. "Is--- is it--"

"It's that it's not about doing new stuff, 's about doing new people with the right stuff."

A beat, and then her brain catches up with the slip of the tongue. Her face explodes in color and she flails at Donna before laughter can fully erupt from the Amazon's lips.

"NONONO-- I MEANT-- YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT!"