4240/(Intermezzo no 2. Adagio Ma Non Troppo)

(Intermezzo no 2. Adagio Ma Non Troppo)
Date of Scene:	29 November 2020
Location:	Aboard the Dreadnought in a pocket universe far, far away
Synopsis:	Terry has some anxieties to air. He comes to Donna for comfort in what shall heretofore be called Mistake Number One.
Cast of Characters:	Terry O'Neil, Donna Troy

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Terry O'Neil has posed:
This is it. It's finally happening. The final step- the point towards which all of this has been leading. It is now only a matter of brief time before the Titans find out if all of their endeavors have been in vain, or whether they will finally embark on the voyage home.

"Heeey, Donna..." Terry walks into the makeshift dining area, having seen his friend come in, "This is it, are you excited?" he asks. He only looks partially excited, his freckled face conveying some level of worry.

He ambles close to one of the chairs and leans on it, looking at the Amazon.

Donna Troy has posed:
Eighteen hours, twelve minutes. The estimated journey time from Gombar to Endovar's thirteenth base. Eighteen hours and twelve minutes until the moment of truth. If there is a white hole, if the rumors are true that Endovar knew of it then surely the information will be found there. The coordinates that will lead to the Titans finding their way home at last.

    Seventeen hours and six minutes now. Donna had been insistent that everyone should find the time during this journey to get a good long sleep, despite the excitement, to be fresh and prepared for anything when they got there. She was far from convinced she would be able to. The normally reliable, easy going, confident Titan, the one who always tries to be there for her team-mates when they need her, has not really been herself since arriving in this deranged universe. Although she has remained warm to those team-mates she has been more withdrawn than usual, and uncharacteristically quick to anger with those outside the team. She has spent a lot of time pacing restlessly around the ship. There has been training, because of course there is with Donna, but she has been quieter and more solitary with that than usual. She has spent a surprising amount of time just sitting around with a tablet working on things - stretching her knowledge of science and math in an attempt to figure out the dynamics of the black hole, surely a vain effort for the Amazon who, while highly intelligent, is hardly on the Cait or Vic level as a techy. She has been taking a lot of photos with her camera - that at least fits, given her love of photography, but it's still not something she is generally seen doing when she's in Titan mode.

    Right now though, she's just sitting and staring into space. Literally space - through the window of the dining area, at the black emptiness devoid of stars into which they are heading. In front of her a cup of the rather bland coffee analog the Titans have had to suffer since getting here grows cold. "Hmm?" she says when addressed, her focus returning to her immediate environment only slowly. "Oh. Hi Terry. Hmm. No, not really."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
The redhead nods slowly and sits himself down. He hasn't been oblivious to Donna's change, but he hasn't done much to draw attention to it, not since their earlier exchange, all that time ago.

How long had they been at this? He had honestly lost track, what with not being around Sol. He was sure Vic could tell him, keeping some sort of internal clock, but he had remained steadfast in not asking. He was afraid that if more time had passed than he originally estimated, he would start getting desperate. The strangeness of this place was already pushing his Cheshire self closer to the side of chaos than usual, he didn't need encouragement.

"Drachmae for your thoughts, Donna? I haven't wanted to say much but... you kinda have been..." he waves a hand, "Kinda sorta, you know..."

He is so specific.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Obol," Donna replies. "That would be a better translation. A drachma is six obols. Literally a handful of them. Originially the obol was a weight of metal in the form of a thin metal bar. About six fit in one hand, hence the drachm."

    Donna's attention comes into better focus and she waves the question away. "Lost, Terry. Like all of us. But I'm fine. As fine as can be, given the circumstances. It's just... hard, not knowing what happened back home. I'm confident we won - we drove War World away, any remaining Warzoon would have been isolated and outnumbered. But we don't know what the... what the cost was."

    She picks up her drink, takes a sip and then makes a face when she discovers how cold it has grown and puts it down again. "And you? We should be getting home soon. At the very least back to our universe. How are you feeling? This has all been pretty tough on all of us, but you're the youngest and least experienced. The rest of us have spent time away from home and family before, but you not so much."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Yeah, but I figured your thoughts were worth more than petty change." Terry shrugs and sighs, leaning back on his chair. "I went to Ireland when I was fourteen for half a year. Did the exchange student thing with our school. Saint Mary's had a sister school in Gweedore of all places." He looks a little distant, recalling his experience. "It was... foreign, and I have to admit I was terribly homesick. But eventually I got used to it because I knew I could go back if things go too bad. I could call home whenever I wanted..."

His voie trails off and he sighs yet again, "Not so much here. Andgoing back isn't a given, just a hope. One that I'm cinging to with all I have. So I try to think of the things I'll do when I go back. When. Not if. Like lock myself in my room with Gar for at least a week- I now I know, Tee Emm Ay, Terry. BUT also... I've been gone for months. Do I even have a job back at the Planet? I thought that if I don't, I'll try to get back in by writing about all of this..."

He spreads his arms, "And that's when I realized I have a problem..."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Ireland's hardly different from America," Donna counters. "You speak the same language. You could probably watch most of your favorite shows on television. The food is pretty much the same, and the Internet doesn't really care where you are. "

    She pushes her cup away from her across the table and leans back, as if giving it as much space as possible, and looks at Terry closely.

    "I went to America at sixteen. You know, honestly the places we've been to here in this crazy place seem less alien to me now than America did back then. The language was different, the food was different, and I'd never seen television or Internet before. That was just the start of it. I couldn't get my head around the idea of there being so many people, it was incomprehensible. Seeing old people, and young people -- a new experience. Meeting people who I didn't know and didn't know me. Seeing ugliness and hatred, not just... not just in stories, in history... not just over wars and deeds of epic revenge but over the smallest and most petty things. It was alien, incomprehensible, wrong."

    Her gaze goes back to the starless sky outside, and she shakes her head slightly. "I could have gone home, but it would have been admitting defeat. I stayed, and I learned. I made mistakes, many mistakes. I made friends. I started to understand. I grew to love America for all its insanities, all its ugliness. And still I could go home. Eventually I did, but when I did so it was because I knew that I would not be going home because I had to, but because I wanted to."

    She gestures at Terry, turning back to him. "We are going home because we want to, and because we have to. Because there is too much for us at home to stay away from. People we love, things left undone. This is not just a hope, Terry. We are going back. If we do not find the answers today, at Endovar's base, we will find them tomorrow, somewhere else. Or the day after. There is always a way. And you will have your job at the Planet if you wish it, because you are too valuable to lose. But you have several problems. How does Terry write about all this, unless Terry is Vorpal? And does Terry or Vorpal wish to reveal all that has taken place here?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Well, that is the problem. I was trying to draw a line between my identities, and now I'm faced with the problem. The way I figure... I, Terry, ended up on that Dreadnought somehow. You can leave it to the imagination- maybe I got captured. Lois used to get captured a lot."He waves a hand, "You guys rescued me, and I was supposed to come back with you all when... woosh." He waves his fingers. "So you're stuck with me through all of this."

He drums his fingers on the table. "... the problem is that writing about this is what's giving me.. issues. I honestly don't think we have done anything that would invite direct censure, except for..."

He taps his fingers again, and looks up at Donna.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "What we have done isn't a story that needs to be told," Donna says, watching Terry's fingers dance across the surface of the table. "It is too complex a story to present in a fashion that suits a newspaper article, perhaps even a book. It is not particularly newsworthy, and it will be meaningless to your audience. And... it would raise awkward questions. If there is a story here it is in the existence of this place. In its history, its societies."

    " For all that we have complaints about every planet we have visited, for all that everyone here seems mad, here is a place where hundreds of races live side by side in relative peace and cooperation." She smiles faintly. "It could be argued that the Seven Worlds will be well rid of us. We are an answer to problems these worlds don't have, and being here just disrupts their experiment. The first day we were here we met a Warzoon who was nothing but friendly and helpful to us, when outside of this universe he would have been our enemy. We have laughed at their idiosyncracies when they have done away with murder. We have interfered with their politics when they have politicians who do not lie. Everything about the societies here that looks foolish to us should be seen against this backdrop. Our societies can hardly claim to lack foolishness. We are savages laughing at the civilized for the invention of etiquette. "

    Donna stands and goes to pour herself a fresh cup of the coffee substitute, one that's actually drinkably warm, and gestures to the pot to offer to pour one for Terry. "Write about what we found here, not about us," she says. "We're not the story here, we're only the story back on Earth. Here we are a distraction from the story. "

    "As for Terry and Vorpal..." Donna shakes her head. "I don't believe your story will work. Why would Terry have been captured? If you write about this as Terry, you will raise many suspicions. You cannot lead two lives if you don't keep them separate."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Unfortunately there's the rub. Where has Terry been all these... months?" he doesn't dare put a number to them, "Lois might see value in me, but we are talking about an intern than up and-" he snaps his fingers "-vanished, no call no show. She can only cover so much for me- she doesn't own the Planet, after all. Any way you look at it, I'm in big trouble."

He scratches his chin, "My car's probably been towed by now. I had it in a public parking space when this went down... and my apartmen- you know what? I'm not even going to /think/ about that."

He glances out the window, "If you think they've done away with problems here... just wait until someone from Science World falls in love with someone from Art World. It'll be like Romeo and Juliet- only stupider. And we're talking about the puppy love of two fifteen-year-olds that left a body count," he smirks.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Maybe you should consider coming out." Donna breaks into a broad grin. "As Vorpal, I mean. I know you want to protect your mom, but how about asking her what she feels about it? Not all heroes have secret identities. Cassie doesn't seem to have run into any problems with it, for example. Her mother has mixed feelings of course, but she hasn't worried about herself being a target because of her daughter's actions. I suspect most of the villains out there would think twice about messing with Helena if they'd ever met her anyway, but I'm sure that it would occur to most of them that they're better off not making Cassie too angry. It's something to consider, and perhaps it would make your career easier to manage. At least these questions would have easier answers, and I'm fairly sure that the management at the Planet would not dream of letting Vorpal off their books."

    She returns to the table with her coffee substitute and sips it thoughtfully. "A career and a life of heroing is not an easy mix. I was starting to get somewhere with my photojournalism when the Titans started up again, and I never really seemed to have the time to follow up on that promising start. I got an exhibition, you know. At one of the galleries in Metropolis. It was due to open the day after the Warzoon invasion, and I never got to go to my first ever opening night."

    Donna gives another light shrug and a laugh. "That's if it even happened. I don't know if the gallery survived the invasion. I may have lost all my prints, but at least they can be reprinted."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"I checked with Lois on that. She said the Planet would probably let me go for the sole reason that having a public identity like that would be a risk to everybody in the bullpen. If I come out, it'll definitely be the end of it for me. She said I'd probably still be able to contribute as an occasional contributor, but working for the planet is dead out."

He swivels in his chair a little, "It's probably why Kara keeps the wig on. Can't believe she actually fooled me... a wig and glasses." He shakes his head, "Amazing. Then again, I don't know who Nightwing is, so that article that said that small changes in appearance screws with our brain's face recognition software may be on to something."

He plops his feet up on the table and leans further back in his chair. "I can't even afford to go to college- as it is, the Planet barely helps me make rent. I lucked out in finding a place where the rent is relatively low... but the AC goes out for half the summer and the heat is absent for half the winter, the walls are paper-thin and the only reason my apartment hasn't been broken into is because people have seen Harley Quinn walk into it several times," he chuckles.

"... I miss that crazy clown. Is that weird?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Freelance, then." Donna looks down into her cup with an expression of distaste. Even properly hot the coffee substitute is not great. It occurs to her that it's lucky for the people who produce this stuff that Raven wasn't one of the Titans who fell into the wormhole - her outrage at coffee this bad would be a sight to behold.

    She settles back with a slight sigh, cup in hands, deciding that coffee substitute is better than nothing. "If you wanted, it's an option. Normally that would be a very risky option to take at this point in your career, but most people aren't Vorpal. You would have no difficulty finding work. I imagine the Planet would try to give you all the work you wanted just to avoid you looking elsewhere."

    "On the other hand, if you want to claim that Terry unwisely decided to be a war reporter embedded with the Titans without clearing that with his bosses at the Planet, and came with the four of us on our trip to the inside of a black hole, none of us will blow your cover. You may find that gets you in as much difficulty with the Planet's bosses as not showing up for work for three months does though. Your call."

    Donna glances over to look at the time. Sixteen hours and fifty-four minutes. Just twelve minutes since she last looked. The journey seems to be taking forever. Perhaps it's a time dilation effect. "You know you can live at the tower. The walls are thick, the AC works, the heating is fine, it's luxury living and it's free. Alternatively you could just get yourself an agent and get yourself some sponsorships or commercial work. You are kind of famous now."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
He quickly raises a finger, "No, Gar is famous- he's been in movies and has an actual fan club. You are famous. I'm /notable/, mostly because a sleazy tabloid caught me kissing Gar at your Embassy." He crosses his arms and shakes his head. "You're famous when you see sexy versions of yourself being sold as halloween costumes... Halloweeen just passed, didn't it? Dear god I hope there were no Sexy Vorpal costumes," he grumbles that last part.

"Freelancing's not exactly as steady a cash stream as regular employment. Vorpal can have a place at the tower, but I /need/ to not be swallowed up by the Vorpal persona, or else I start getting..."

He lets that hang in the air. "I need a space for both parts of me to be in balance. It's just not a good idea to swipe one part of me away. At least... not until I can understand how not to get..."

Vague gesture with hands. "Ungh. I don't know what to do. Everything was going so well. And then the Fire Nation invaded."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Gar is /more/ famous. That doesn't mean you're not. My sister is /more/ famous than me, but I'd be pretty wealthy if I took up the various offers of paid employment I have received over the years." Donna's face grows a mischievous grin. "Though my mother would never forgive me for several of them."

    Donna dismisses Terry's objections with a wave of her hand. "I doubt Gar would have found it as easy to get roles if he had not been a Titan. To some degree the fame you achieve will depend on whether you pursue it. If you stay in the background you will never have a particularly large fan-club. If you talk to the media and agree to television appearances, you will become more famous. The media demands to be fed. If you feed them, they will feed you back. It is a path you could chose to take."

    " You may decide it would compromise your principles. You may decide some small compromise is fair compensation for the difficulties being a hero throws in your path. You should learn to forget this notion you are not famous though - that ship sailed when you joined us. You are a Titan. You saved the world and died doing it, and shortly you are going to miraculously return. It is likely that for a day or two when we arrive home, you will be one-fourth of the biggest news story on planet Earth. If you keep telling yourself you are nobody, you will not be prepared for that."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry hrms. "I don't... want to chase the fame hound. I wanted to report on stories, make a difference that way. Help the important things get out. But it looks like that's not entirely a choice I can make in this scenario." He uncrosses his arms and looks at Donna. "I liked the idea of maybe someday being a reporter, but like you said.. balancing the life." He shakes his head, "And you can't make the argument that I can walk away from the life because I couldn't live with myself knowing I could've helped and people died because I didn't."

He exhales softly, "Okay. So I've got a choice to make. Fortunately I can wait to make it until we get back. But man..." he shakes his head and smirks, "Listen to how horrible my life is. I got saddled with super-powers and I'm complaining because I can't get things exactly the way I want..."

He stands up from his chair, stretching and stifling a yawn. "... but at the end of the day, I guess I'm just human..."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Less choice than you're thinking," Donna says with a sympathetic smile. "I mean if you do decide to tell the world that Terry came along with us, then Terry will find his name in the history books. You can count the number of humans who have left the solar system before us on the fingers of one hand, and count the number of humans who have been inside a black hole and seen the things we have seen before us on the fingers of no hands."

    "You can go back to being Terry, but it will be a different Terry, you know. It will be a Terry who has crossed the final frontier and beyond, who has explored strange new worlds and boldly gone where no intern has gone before. Gar only ever got to pretend he had done these things."

    Donna downs the rest of her coffee substitute in a single gulp - 'twere well it were done quickly, it seems. "We're all just human, Terry. But that encompasses a lot. Tomorrow it encompasses the four of us trying to find and travel through a thing no other human has ever done more than speculate might exist. Sixteen hours and forty-four minutes. Go get some sleep, Terry. Tomorrow is a big day."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Oh man. No pressure there- first O'Neil in our family to make the history books, and it's from the black sheep branch... there's a terrifying thought. Grandma would have a conniption if she were alive." He smirks, "Has anybody told you you have a way of making people more nervous with your pep talks?" he jokes, and stretches, "But... thank you. It means a lot."

Terry doesn't manage to sleep more than a total of four hours, and usually with a few hours of wakefulness in between. But it's better than nothing.