3297/(Intermezzo) Water, water, everywhere

(Intermezzo) Water, water, everywhere
Date of Scene:	09 September 2020
Location:	AHMAGERDISTILLDUNNO
Synopsis:	Aboard the wrecked dreadnought and far away, Donna and Caitlin discuss priorities and supplies. Donna Donnas, Caitlin Caitlins.
Cast of Characters:	Donna Troy, Caitlin Fairchild

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Donna Troy has posed:
    Cyborg had said it: resupply. Food was going to be an issue. A search of the accessible portions of the ship have uncovered a couple of snack dispensers which may or may not contain anything edible to humans. That will need to be determined.

    Air was not going to be an issue too quickly. The scrubbers were working, just about, and if power can be maintained, that supply can last for many months. Power is an issue, but there are solutions to that. An unrepairable fighter in the docking bay has an engine that could be hooked up to resupply the batteries; a complicated job, but doable. Without engines to power or weapon systems to employ, and by shutting down and switching off life support from everywhere but a few room around the bridge, energy could be managed.

    Water? Heavens be praised, water is plentiful. This is a war ship, and everything is compartmentalized to improve survivability. Water is really useful in a spaceship. It provides cooling, radiation shielding, even reaction mass in an emergency, and there are tanks full of the stuff between most walls. There is even enough for showers.

    A shower was clearly something that Donna needed, and she has taken one. There's also a possibility she could do with some burn cream and bandages. Donna comes out of the shower, dried off by airblowers, dressed back in her torn tunic, as Caitlin searches through a supply cabinet for medical supplies. Third cabinet lucky? There are sure to be at least some first aid stations around here.

    There may be an issue of mental state though. Since her near-panic of button-pressing, she has been withdrawn. She's helped with the resource hunt, and followed Caitlin's prompting for things like getting herself cleaned off, but she's been pretty monosyllabic ever since.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin's got a bin in front of her and is throwing anything useful looking into it. Some of it is stuff common to most carbon life-forms, like gauze and strips and alcohol. A keen sense of taste and touch comes in handy when one is trying to decide if a solvent's antibacterial foam or some kind of teeth-cleaning acid.

"Uh... okay." The stress is keeping her on edge; Caitlin's pushing through. She sniffles and wipes the remnant of a sleeve under her nose. Focus on work. Focus on others. "Some of this stuff, I can't really recommend using without a lab kit. I don't know what this'll do to even my anatomy, let alone you, or Vic and Terry. But there's some common stuff here, this is... alcohol, clean bandages, gauze, and I think something like cyanoacrylate. There's a gel here that looks like it's meant for burns." She holds up a package, turns it to face Donna. Unintelligible alien lettering, but apparently in space there's OSHA labels. It's got a picture of a flame being suppressed on it. "Either that or it's a ... party hat for a bonfire."

Caitlin sets the medical supplies out on the cleanest surface and lifts her chin at Donna. "C'mon. Lemme take a look at those burns. I am..." She chokes back a bitter laugh. "I am /really/ wishing I'd paid more attention to some of those medical emergency classes. Too many cat videos online, not enough time."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "I'm okay," Donna says quietly. She steps over to the window to look once more on the impossible - and very small - universe beyond. Windows are common in this part of the ship. It might have been better if they weren't, it's a disturbing sight.

    "Doesn't hurt, Cait. Maybe antiseptic. " A three-syllable word. That's progress. "And bandages." Another.

    Donna turns her head from the window to look at Caitlin, and gives her a gentle smile. "We're alive, Cait. But they won't know that. Back home. They'll think..." she frowns and lowers her eyes for a moment, then walks over to where Caitlin is sorting through the supplies.

    Donna takes a /deep/ breath, and blows it out slowly. "Cait. Caitlin. We've got to find a way back fast. There's too much... you know. Back home. We can't /afford/ to be stuck... wherever this is. We're needed back home. This ship isn't going to take us there. But there are lights out there. The planet below, there's a small island, and it's got lights on. I noticed when it moved into darkness. We need to go down, talk to the people there, get a ship and get home. We're wasting time here with all this. This ship is a write off, let's just take the lander and go."

    It's more words than she's spoken in the last couple of hours - maybe the shower helped.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin looks down, and shakes her head. One hand comes up, then another. "Donna. Donna!" she tries to get out. Donna's words come fast as she keeps going, and when Donna says 'go', Caitlin stomps a foot on the ground hard enough to dent the deck.

"DONNA!" she shouts, voice ringing. Caitlin's shaking-- but not from anger. Face pale, lips pressed thin, eyes wide and damp. "I-- I am--" she tries, hoarsely. Fingers grip the air convulsively. "I am *barely* holding it together. I thought w-we were dead. I thought I l-lost everyone. Vic. Terry. ... you." Palms press together in front of her lips and her eyes screw shut, then open on Donna again. "I am starving. I have at least three cracked ribs. I stink and I'm sweaty and overhot. Right now, I cannot think about the *mountain* of effort it's going to take me and Vic to get that lander up and running, let alone figure out some... Star Trek level BS about figuring out where we are and how to go home."

"What I /can/ do, I can treat your burns, and then I can take a shower, and just sit and cry and get it out of my system. Okay?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna looks surprised. Wide-eyed with surprise. And Donna does wide-eyed so well. Big dark eyes with rings of sleeplessness around them, so wide with surprise as that? She's basically a panda.

    Donna steps forwards, and wraps her arms wordlessly around Caitlin, and justs holds her for a while. That momentary panic back on the bridge has gone. As distant as she has been since then, at least Donna seems fairly /calm/. Her heartbeat is slow and regular. "Shhh. Cait, Cait. It's okay. It's going to be okay. We'll solve this. One step at a time. Look, we've got Vic with us, and if you wanna be stuck on a broken alien spaceship with anyone in the world, it's Vic. Terry has Rabbit holes. The planet's right there, we're in orbit - that means we're probably in range. We can at least check out the closest planet, and if it's got lights on it, it's got people. And if it's got people, it's got food."

    Donna pulls away a little, her hands still on Cailtin's arms. "And we've got each other, okay? You're not alone. I'm right here. You and me, Cait. What is there in the universe that's gonna stand between us and home? Not a thing. We won't let it. Right?"

    It's a long time since the pair first met. Eight years ago, at a Mexican bar, and on the rooftop nearby. A much younger Donna and a much younger Caitlin, and even back then Donna hadn't been able to let Caitlin worry without wanting to comfort her and make things seem better. It might be that was just what Donna needed to help her out of her own funk.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin fights the hug off at first, with significant insincerity and no real force aside from pushing elbows. Mostly because once Donna hugs her, the water works spill, and Caitlin leans hard against the princess and gets some of the terror and stress and frustration out of her system.

When Donna steps back Caitlin nods in agreement with a janky motion. "Yeah. Okay. Just... one step at a time," she agrees, and exhales a few meditative breaths to get her emotions under control.

"I'm going to... okay. Okay. Uh... priorities are medical supplies. Lots of this stuff is for nonhumans but basic injuries are the same. I'll sample some of the painkillers and see if I can figure out a dose that won't kill Terry. You and Vic are going to need the burn cream, and I'm going to have to work out someting longer-term for Vic so his implants don't get infected, h-he'll need, um..." Caitlin sniffles, wipes her nose on her sleeve again. "Analgesics and anti-inflammatories. Maybe they've got... alien ibuprofen in here."

She looks at Donna, then uplifts her chin at the Amazon and readies some supplies. "Burn cream for you first, you'll be the guinea pig. If you don't have an adverse reaction, we can use it on Vic and Terry."

A ghost of a smile crosses her face. "At least this time it's not a stab wound, right?"

Donna Troy has posed:
"Pssh!" Donna says, waving a hand dismissively - and grinning wide. "Warzoon! They are not real warriors. Not like a certain red-headed Amazon by adoption I know. You think they could hurt me? Besides, they did not have a rock to help them. They were in space. Nothing for me to trip over." The grin goes wider and Donna steps back a bit more, giving Caitlin's arm a squeeze. "Besides, I have had experience in fighting in space before, they didn't have a chance."

    Admittedly that experience had been about twenty-four hours earlier. And had Caitlin known just how badly outnumbered Donna had been when she exited the T-Jet, there might have been objections when she had elected to play rearguard alone. The truth is though that Donna's armor did its job. Donna's damaged, but nothing like as bad as her armor is, and Caitlin knows how good Donna is at taking punishment, and how fast she heals.

    The Warzoon soldiers would probably have been better off if they'd had a sword like Caitlin's, at that.

    "Listen Cait. I'm not in too much pain. I'll use the burn cream if you think it's helpful, but the most important thing is the injuries are kept clean. We can sterilize my tunic by boiling some water and tear it up so I don't use all the bandages. I'll wear one of the space suits... " Just for a moment her face falls as she thinks about her armor. It has been with her a long time. " We have some laser guns to heat up water, it's no problem. I will be fine, so we concentrate on Vic and Terry... and you. You got kind a beat up too, you know. "

    She steps over to the window again, peering down at the water world below. "Maybe they even have some medicines there. Or at least honey! We use honey on Themyscira for burns. Did you know that? It is remarkably effective. I do not think the cures in Man's World are any better. We'll get something to eat, and we'll find a space ship, and we'll get passage home. Okay? Our biggest problem here is not going to be food and medicine, it's going to be language."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Yeah, I'm taking medical advice from you," Caitlin grumbles good-naturedly. "Some of us didn't sleep through Eponia's lectures, and I /did/ a little intern time in a hospital. I don't love using gauze from some weird alien medical kit, but I'm definitely not slapping Waterworld honey on Vic if he gets a rash. We've got enough bandages for now, and we can ... figure something out as we go," she says, with a forced nod of encouragement.

With Donna at the window, Caitlin moves behind her with a bottle of water and pours some on the obvious burns to loosen the cloth so it's not sticking to the wounds.

"Look Donna, if there's one thing I can do better than you, it's triage. Vic and Terry need painkillers the most, and Vic needs a longer-term supply of analgesics. /If/ there's something contaminated or not human safe in these medical supplies, you're more likely to bounce back from it than they will. So-- you get to be the guinea pig."

The burn cream is torn open and applied carefully to Donna's back. Caitlin's as kind as she can be, working from the outside of the injury inwards, but there's no gentle way to salve a burn. "Golly, I wish Eponia was here, though," she mutters. "She's probably got some recipe for honey and goat milk that could cure third-degree burns. I am /so/ taking her up on that invitation to do more medicine when we get home."

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna rolls her eyes and sighs theatrically, but she doesn't resist Caitlin's ministrations. She's probably convinced this is more for Caitlin's sake than for her own. Who knows, she might be right.

    "Don't dis the honey, Cait. I'm serious. The medicines of Man's World... very often they are no more effective than the old cures. In Themyscira it's not that we do not have access to advanced medicines, it is that we do not throw wisdom away simply because it is old. Cleanliness and honey are as effective as anything else is. More effective if you don't include the cleanliness. Cold water first. Ideally I would soak in some for a while, but the shower will do. Then... well. I'm not sure how I would explain to Vic and Terry if I return to the bridge wearing honey, but at least it would give us all something to laugh about."

    Amazonian patience has its limits though, and before too much cream is applied, Donna starts helping herself to bandages to get the wounds wrapped up.

    "Cait. When we go back home... is that what you would like to do? To return to Themyscira, and study some more with Eponia? I don't think this is a bad idea. But... if you go..."

    Donna turns to look hard at Caitlin. Serious Face. "This time. Before you said you weren't ready. You are more ready now than I was. Certainly than Cassie was, though we had reasons to know she would be accepted. You will be accepted. I know this is true. If you wish to become more than an honorary Amazon, there is no need to delay longer."

    So soon after that dream? Maybe it's fate.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin swats at Donna's fingers a few times until she's at least satisfied Donna's not impeding the task at hand. She tosses her hands up in resignation when Donna insists on bandaging herself and offers Donna her spare t-shirt from the backpack Caitlin had prepped in the dreadnought.

"I..." Caitlin hedges, jaw working; when Donna starts changing, Caitlin politely turns around to give Donna some privacy. Not at all because she's stalling. "Donna, I'm... yes. I don't know. This is not--" She pushes her hair behind both ears, then grimaces and fusses with her ponytail, half out of the scrunchie that held it back. Extricating the mess makes the band snap and Caitlin's fuzzy red hair fairly explodes outwards.

"Donna I just don't -- I don't have the spoons to think about that right now," she says, finally. "I mentioned Eponia because I'm trying to distract myself from the *massive* panic attack I'm delaying. At least until I can get in the shower and just melt down quietly for a bit and then get myself together."

"Look, priority one is medical care. Next is shelter. Then food and water. Then we can figure out our next step. I know it-- I'm sorry, I know it helps you to be thinking about other stuff, but right now I'm just trying to compartmentalize and work through things a step at a time. Get us through the first day or two, let's get a handle on the situation, and... then we can talk about it. Okay?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna stares over her shoulder at Caitlin for a few moments, but then gives a shrug and accepts the T-shirt. "Just think it over," she says as she slips the oversized garment over her head.

     "God you're tall, Cait. I think I got lost in here," she says, muffled. She clowns around a bit, pretending to search inside the T-shirt for a while before her head appears through the correct hole and she beams a wide grin at her old friend.

     "Shelter we have," she says. "Medical care... okay. Everyone's standing though, so /after/ your shower. No panic attacks, not allowed. Understood? Water we have enough to last months. We will not be here so long. Food. On the planet below. Unless you are so hungry you want to risk a Warzoon snack bar."

    The T-shirt is too big for her, but it makes a decent tunic. One which is in a lot better state than her own. She's still going to dig through the space suits for something that's a little more mission-ready, but with this and her cycle shorts (which she assures everyone are just /perfect/ for wearing under armor), she's set for now. She shakes the T-shirt out, straightening it, then runs her hands through her air, and grabs a scrap of spare bandage to tie her hair back.

    "We're actually in a good way, Cait. There is an inhabited planet below us. That's huge. Don't worry about us, I'm not. My concerns are back home. The Titans. They... Dick is still there. Kate is sensible. Robin is sharp. But... well. You know. Diana... Diana was planning something and... I don't know. Diana is fine. I am sure of that, but I'm... no. I can't worry about that now. Can't let myself. But... the other Titans. What is happening with them, what they are thinking right now, that really.... Especially Rae. Cait, I don't know what she will do. But it could be dangerous. We cannot waste time."