Owner Pose
Victor Stone     Vic's been brooding, which isn't really an unusual state for him, but he hadn't been brooding /as much/ of late. Maybe he's trying to fill up his missing quota. Still, he's been avoiding the 'Troia-fied' version of the Main Room, deliberately leaving and going back every time he runs into it, to the point where he's just been avoiding the Main Room entirely.

    But today, he very deliberately heads for the Main Room, and /very/ deliberately the Troia-fied version. He even doesn't worry about grabbing a sandwich or anything first. When he gets there he looks around and calls, "Uhh... Troia... you here...?"
Terry O'Neil "Troia!" Vorpal comes in right after Vic- not having seen him because he arrived via Rabbit hole, and then Multiple Door Conga, "Who's up for TWISTER?"

Yes. He's got the box, and the mat. He's got a party hat on, and streamers hanging around his neck and shoulders, a one-man party ready to start, with a cooler of soft drinks hanging from his free hand.

And he bumps into the shiny chrome back of Victor Stone. "Oof!.... oh, hey Vic," he says, having saved the cooler from crashing to the ground. "Hey, three people! The more, the more challenging!"
Donna Troy      "Where else would I be?" Troia's voice echoes around the chamber. Not, quite, Donna's voice. Or at least not quite her accent. It has all the right tones and cadences, that familiar smoke-and-honey, but there are differences in pronunciation, and differences in Emphasis. Troia's speech is less dynamic. More measured. She does speak now with a hint of amusement in her voice that is remarkably /familiar/ though. "I am always here, Victor Stone."

    Sure enough, the air thickens and Troia steps out of nowhere. Or somewhere. She gives Vic a nod of her head, and then raises an eye at Vorpal. She doesn't comment about the hat and streamers though. She realizes it's cultural. Instead she walks over to her accustomed seat in the bench of thrones, and sits down.

    "What can I do for you? If you are asking about progress -- I do not really have much to tell you. I continue to study the way in which the threads of possibility are interwoven here. The nature of the labyrinth. It is not something I was ever taught to understand, so I have a lot of theorizing and research to do."
Madison Evans     Is there any particular reason Madison is lying on the floor of 'Troia's' main room - her phone held in her hands, up above her, idly playing a phone app? From the sound effects, it's a Star Wars game of some sort, as the familiar hum of lightsabers can be heard. She doesn't even glance over at Victor's entrance - as she focuses on finishing the level - but she //startles// at Terry's more exhuberant arrival.
    She seems willing to forgive this, however, as she sits up to ask, "Twister?! OH. EM. GEE, it's been aaaaages! Who's going to be caller? Or we using the app?"
America Chavez     A number of crunching sounds precedes the emergence of America. She really does use the Starling Highway for everything. Stepping through she blinks. "Oh... this place really is a magnet isn't it?" she asks looking to the others in attendance. She hasn't been in universe for a couple weeks and so doesn't know the new ins and outs of the situation.

    Even so, she gives a wave to Terry, Maddison, and Victor. Her greeting to Troia is a bow of measured respect if not familiarity. "Sorry for rushing out on you, Terry. Something that needed my help was... well..." she shrugs. "You know how it goes. I hear a call, I rush to see to it."
Victor Stone     Vic hesitates, mouth open, first on noticing Madison's there and then at Terry's entrance. America gets a wave, but he's still frowning as he considers how to answer Troia. "Uhhh... no. Not asking about progress. I just thought I'd come by and uhh... I dunno, chat? Say hi. See how you're doing. The Tower must be... awfully lonely, without anyone..."

    He swallows. "I was, uhh... I was remembering back when I was away from my friends and how lonely it felt. I thought it'd be nice, if you had friends that could, y'know... come by and... hang out. And here we are!" He glances to Terry. "We could play Twister, sure."
Terry O'Neil "No worries, 'Merica, I know how urgent some calls can be. That's me literally every time I go to my favorite Indian restaurant." Terry may be a foodie, but he's also very much ginger pale through and through. His people may have eaten Haggis and other things you need bagpipes to keep your mind off of what you're eating, but add garam masala and it's suddenly the harvest of culloden in his stomach.

And nevertheless, he persists, because he absolutely loves the food.

"I thought I'd bring something to, you know, amuse ourselves. And show Troia how good a silly time can be. It's a mortal sort o' thing."
Donna Troy     Troia blinks down at Madison a few times before turning her attention back to Vic. "That is... thoughtful of you, Victor. I appreciate the sentiment, though it is not necessary. I think... being alone is something you become accustomed to. I haven't really ever had friends to miss them when they were not there. However I do not deny that this has been a -- a diverting time. With you all visiting."

    She gives America a nod in reply to her own bow of greeting. "America. Did you come here by accident, or did you intend to participate in..." she gestures towards Terry. "Whatever strange manner of entertainment the Wonderlander Vorpal has decided to attempt to convince me to participate in today?" She gives Terry a wink.

    An actual /wink/.

    "Maddie I am sure will participate at least, Vorpal. I have come to learn that she does adore playing games," Troia says, smiling gently in Madison's direction.
Madison Evans     "I'll only play if you play," Madison remarks with sudden stubbornness. She thinks she knows what Terry's doing - and she's all for it. They have to get through to Donna somehow, right? And this is just step one. She thinks. Probably.
    "Besides!" she adds more brightly. "Everyone needs friends. Friends are the best! And the Titans are some of the best friends you could EVER have - right Terry? Right Victor?"
    Her gaze goes to America before she asks bluntly, "Can you teach other people to punch stars out of mid air?"
America Chavez     America smiles to Terry before looking at Troia. She doesn't know what sort of game is up but she shrugs. "I mean... I wanted to get back to this universe. Just so happens that this place is one hell of a beacon for the exit ramp. Probably has to do with the flux involved in it's... existence."

    She looks between the Titans again before she smirks before giving a nod. "Sure, I'm game for anything really. Anything would be better after what I went through. Let me just say, I'm not a fan of swamp monsters. Okay?" she mutters. Madison's question gets a puzzled look. "Umm... what?" she asks.

    "Oh! You mean... the Highway?" She shakes her head sadly. "No... sadly that's something only I can do really..." There's a deeper sadness there; the Utopian Parallel is sealed off from her forever as far as she knows and getting back home is never an option. She doesn't vocalize this though. "I mean, I can take you and others on it... but opening them yourself. Unlikely."
Victor Stone     "I mean... sure, you can get /used/ to being alone, but that doesn't mean it's /good/ for you." It's kind of bizarre, isn't this discussion usually being had in reverse?

    Vic shrugs and heads over to peer at the Twister board. Looks around at the others. "Maybe I should be the caller... just so I don't fall on anyone and smash 'em with the chrome." He grins, to show he doesn't /mind/ or anything.

    A glance to America. "So it's like... anyone can come in the car but only you can drive it?"
Terry O'Neil "I wonder what would happen if I opened a Rabbit Hole inside one of your Star Portals?" Vorpa wonders idly, and sends the Twister mat flying, to land perfectly on the floor. "Maddie is right, Troia, you /should/ participate! It'll be a lot of fun. TO show what a good sport I am, I will let you and Maddie play by yourselves, first." He sets the cooler down.

"After all, it would be very unfair to compete against /my/ superior flexiblity!" The cat winks at Troia, "Sure, you are a deity, but I'm a /cat/. It'd just be... unfair." Eyebrow perk, "Unless you two think you've got what it takes to beat the Cheshire Master at his own game!"
Donna Troy     Troia blinks at Madison's display of stubbornness. Not knowing quite how to react, she turns away without responding. She stares out of the window at the landscape of the shattered moon for a while before turning back to Vic.

    "I think things are different if you are immortal," she says. "In such a case you can expect that the large majority of your life will be as you put it 'away from your friends' unless those friends are also immortal. Though in my case... I do not know. I expect to fade away, in time. As New Kronos fades. Memories linger a while."

    Despite Terry's efforts, Troia does not appear to be in party mood.

    "I do not know how to play the game," she announces eventually. "I will watch you play. Perhaps after I have seen how it is played I shall join in the next time."
Madison Evans     "Is that like putting a portable hole in a bag of holding?" Madison asks curiously. Because of //course// she knows about that.
    She doesn't linger on that, however, as she jumps to her feet, and flexes her arms like a body-builder. (No - it isn't very impressive). "I back down from no challenges! You're going down, catboy!" she declares brightly, kicking off her shoes as she moves towards the mat.
    "Oh, it's //super// easy," Madison encourages Troia. "You've got to play! Rule one - take off your shoes. Rule two - do what you're told. Rule three - don't fall down! If you fall down you're out. That's it! Someone'll spin the spinner and tell us 'right foot green' and you put your right foot on one of the green dots. 'Left hand yellow' - and you put your left hand on a yellow dot. See? There couldn't be an easier game in the whole galaxy."
America Chavez     "Pretty much what the Jedi says, -amigo-" America says to Terry. She's slipping off her red high-tops as she answers. "It's something I'm actually wanting to try out sometime. Could be useful in case somethign really dangerous shows up." She smiles to the red-head as she rolls a shoulder to loosen up.

    She gives Vic a look for a moment and adds. "Yeah. Pretty much, and I'm the car. And no offense, but there's only one person in this room who I'd even -consider- letting drive me like that." She doesn't elaborate on who, but it wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out.

    She turns to Troia and gestures invitationally to the woman. "Come on. Even gods have to have fun from time to time. I grew up in the presence of possibly the biggest of them and that was -all- we did for years. You can't be completely contemplative and stoic all the time. Like Maddy said, Vic spins a wheel and tells us what appendage to put on what color. The goal is not to fall over."
Victor Stone     "Ohh, c'mon, how can you say no to /that?" Vic says, gesturing at Madison. He grins. "Look, maybe you're immortal and maybe you'll be alone /most/ of the time, but you can at least enjoy the time that we're here together intersecting in this space, right?"

    He eyes America for a moment, then shakes his head, still grinning. He's not touching /that/ one with a ten-foot pole. Instead, he grabs up the spinner.
Terry O'Neil "If you do," Terry says with a melodious voice, fishing something out of the cooler, "I will give you first pick of my mom's tiramisu bites." He holds up the box. "They are exquisite. I dare you to find something as good within a hundred miles' radius from the tower!" He grins and perches on a seat, "What do you say? You'll make a Jedi happy!"
Donna Troy     Troia leans forward and stares at the board and then at the spinner as Maddie and America explain the basis of the game to her. "I see why you call it Twister," she says after a few moments. "The players may have to twist around each other, if they are unable to make their limbs simply pass through the physical matter of other players. The purpose of the game then is to continue to take turns until a combination proves beyond the flexibility of one of the players then, I assume?"

    She leans back again. "I... my robes would become entangled. It would be awkward. I will watch you play."

    She may be unfamiliar with the game but whether through her link to the True Oracle or by simple logical deduction, she seems familiar with the golden rule of Twister: never play it while wearing a dress.

    "Approximately forty-six hours ago, the Labyrinth underwent a radical short-duration spatial dislocation," she announces, perhaps trying to change the subject. "I have not yet determined why. It was... complex. It may be becoming unstable." 46 hours -- that would be about the time the Titans left at the tower during the space mission reported the distortions of the Tower becoming suddenly far greater, and leading them to what may have been the /real/ New Kronos.
Madison Evans     "Phasing while you're playing Twister is cheat," Madison says firmly. "Everyone has to remain solid matter." She continues to beam hopfully at Troia - until the woman refuses, at which point, the young Jedi sits down next to the Twister mat, and folds her arms over her chest. "You can get changed. We'll wait," she counters simply.
    "Otherwise - //I'll// eat all the tiramisu and then my mom'll let me have it for having too many sweets and you wouldn't want //that// to happen, would you?"
America Chavez     America chuckles. "Look, Maddison... how about the three of us give it a go and with our fun we draw her in" the Universal traveller replies, tapping the young girl on the shoulder. At Troia's misdirect she arches a brow and repeats. "Forty-six hours?" she asks, looking behind her to Vic and Terry. "Something major happen while I was on Earth-16756?" she asks the pair.
Victor Stone     Vic's grin fades as Troia /insists/ that she's not playing. "Nah, Madison, America's right... let's let her get used the idea, yeah?" He shrugs; he's still holding the spinner, after all. He'll start when the others are ready.

    "We, uhh... went on a trip to space. Ran into some... trouble." He glances to Terry. "The Tower brought some people who /weren't/ intended to go on that trip to the same planet, which was a good thing in the end, really. Helped some aliens stop a war, y'know, normal Titans stuff."

    There's a good reason he's not saying 'it was New Kronos' just yet. Though he's eyeing Troia.
Terry O'Neil "It was a minor kerfuffle," The cat says with a shrug, "And we all came back alive, so it's just a regular day for us. Funny that you should have felt it-" he glances at Troia with a smile, "it must have been something pretty significant."

The trick to talking to Donna was to say the truth, but without expanding upon it. That way, you weren't lying. It was important to know how to say things around Donna because of her Truth-sense. The fact that he is not mentioning the trip was to New Kronos is significant- clearly he doesn't think it needs to be brought up, yet...
Donna Troy     Troia tilts her head at Madison. "Emotional blackmail does not work on gods," she says. "Though I am impressed that you would attempt it. Mortals that do so do not generally benefit from the experience. Were I a more experienced god, I would know the correct response. Suspend you over lava for all eternity? Turn you into some small prey animal to live a life of fear and torment? Something like that. It is fortunate for you that I'm not very good at being a god."

    She stands up suddenly, indeed to change. She seems to take Madison's words literally, the star-filled black fabric of her dress changing shape as she stands to form around her body. For just a moment it seems to take on an almost armored appearance, a surface pattern of interwoven plates reminiscent of Diana's armored cuirass, but that impression fades almost as soon as it appears, leaving her in a catsuit of deepest black, filled with glowing stars. "No phasing then," she agrees. "But do not be surprised if I am not subject to the same physical limitations you are."

    She strides over to the Twister mat to join the others there. "Your tower is a building. It is not able to bring people to other locations on its own," Troia says. "If it went to the same planet some of you were already visiting, it implies the infolding must be inherently ties to one of those visiting that planet. This may change everything. I will need to know which of you were on that planet. It seems you and I both missed the excitement, America."
Madison Evans     Madison looks between Victor and Terry as they both - quite obviously - avoid saying the name of the planet. She opens her mouth, closes it, and spends a moment looking puzzled, and a bit put out. //Shouldn't// they tell her? "It was a fun trip. I won a game of Redemption by carrying the sacred orb to the gate," she remarks glibly.
    As America suggests they start playing anyways, she lets out a sigh and climbs to her feet - only to stare at Troia for her words. "Y- you wouldn't do anything like that! You're nice! And besides - the Titans wouldn't let you," she asserts in what she hopes is a confident voice.
    She's looking uncertainly between Troia and the Titans - when the woman abruptly acquiesces, prompting a loud, "Yesssss!" from Maddie - followed by a smug look towards the doubters. See? She knows what she's doing.
America Chavez     "Oh! Well shit... sorry I missed it..." America says with a note of disappointment in her tone. "Well...I'm... glad it went off without too much issue" she adds, before moving over to the board. She grins at the other two and then Troia is there in a starry catsuit.

    America has to stiffle the urge to stare. The woman -is- a god after all. She swallows and there is a bit of redness in her cheeks as she turns her attention pointedly to Victor. "Well... you gonna do the thing or not?" she asks him with a sense of urgency. Anything to get her mind focused elsewhere.
Terry O'Neil "Oh yeah, we'll get to all of that, don't worry Troia. Just have fun right now and we can talk brass tacks after-"

BingleyBoinglyBeepBeepBeep

Terry frowns and grabs his satchel. His phone. An alarm. "Wait, why did I set an ala-"

Eyes go wide. "Oooooooog craaaaaaaaaap- I gotta go to the real main room and call Lois. I'm supposed to do this thi- crap I set the wrong time, I'm ten minutes late she is going to /kill/ me!"

He is a blur of orange fur and red and black and white, as he extricates things from the cooler and puts them on top of it, for people to see. "These are Aguas Frescas they are Jamaica Lemon and Tamarind and I suggest any of them they are delicious but save some for me after the twisting I will be back as soon as possible oh my god Lois is going to kiiilll meeeeeeeeee"

And thus Exit Vorpal, Pursued By A Deadline.
Victor Stone     Vic snorts and rolls his eyes. "Fine, fine, you win," he says to Madison. He's about to spin the spinner when... Terry has a Deadline. Oh no.

    "Good luck!" he calls after the Cheshire. And then he shrugs and spins the spinner.

    "Right foot red!" he calls out.
Donna Troy     "I am amused," Troia says as she steps on a red circle with her right foot. "The Wonderlander declared himself unbeatable, yet as soon as it because clear that I was after all going to participate in this contest, he suddenly finds he had other things to do so urgently that he is, after all, unable to prove his boast."

    "Wonderlander!" she calls after Terry. "Vorpal! Do not worry, you can still compete. I will isolate this moment from the time stream! To others outside the envelope of the effect it will be that no time has passed through the duration of the contest."

    Vorpal however is already out of earshot, or not listening. "As I suspected," Troia tells Madison with a wink. "Come, right foot red! You too, America."
Madison Evans     "Isolate the- huh?" Madison asks - as she plants her right foot on the appropriate circle. She seems quite eager to play the game - though her gaze goes America, taking in her flushed appearance. "Are you okay? Your face is all red. Do you have like a fever or-" She looks from America, to Donna, to America again and says, "You know what? Never mind. Victor, what's next?"
America Chavez     The glare that Madison receives from an embarassed Ms. America is almost physically scathing. "I do not know what you're talking about..." she says through teeth that might be smiling or might be grimacing. "I'm just excited to play the game. That is all." She places her right foot on a red dot with perhaps just a touch too much force.

    She's just competitive, that's all. "Even if Vorpal backs down, don't think for a second that I will. I'm in it to win it. All the way." She glances over her shoulder. "Hit us with the next one, Cyborg."
Victor Stone     Vic snorts at Troia. "I believe him, about the deadline... but he's not /quite/ as competitive as, say, Gar. Gar would stay even if he had no chance to beat you. Does it with me all the time."

    He smirks at America for a moment and then spins the spinner. "Left foot yellow!"

    Some kind of tension relaxes from him as he watches the group playing the game. Just having fun, Titans-style. It's good!
Donna Troy     Left foot yellow. So far, so straightforwards. "I have a question," Troia says. "What happens when the random selection calls for us to place a limb that has already been placed? Is it necessary for the limb in question to be in contact with both colors simultaneously? Or does the new color supplant the previously determined color?"

    She glances America's way with a grin. "If you wished to win this game, you should have discouraged Madison from demanding I contest the game with you both." If this had been Donna, such competitiveness would hardly be surprising, but it does seem like a bit of a change from the Troia they have got used to the last few weeks.
Madison Evans     "Supplant," Madison replies easily, while placing her left foot on a circle. "I mean. Normal physics wouldn't let you have a foot on green and red at the same time - they're on the opposite sides of the mat! So you have to move your foot. Or hand." She says all this, while shooting America a quick, brief look - and glancing away again just as quickly.
    Yup. Yup, you screwed that one up, Maddie. Oops.
    "I'll beat both of you!" the girl opines instead.
America Chavez     America moves her foot to a left dot. "Yeah... pretty much that's where the name comes into play..." she says, not looking at Troia. Damn catsuits. Damn goddesses. Damn impractical emotional ties. "You basically do your best to twist your body into ways to make sure you continue to touch each thing called, regardless of distance. It's like musical chairs... but fully body instead of just your butt."

    She thinks for a moment and more red floods her cheeks. Focus on the game. Focus on the game. Not on what Catsuit Troia might look like in impossible poses. She lets out a long slow exhale. "Keep 'em coming, Victor!" she calls.
Victor Stone     Vic grins brightly as the game continues. He's barely seen 'Troia' since that first day she arrived--mostly because he's been avoiding her. So he isn't aware of how different this is to her normal behavior; to him, what really matters is that it feels like their Troia, the /real/ Troia. Donna Troy, even if that's not her real name.

    He spins and calls out, spins and calls out, watching and laughing as the players try to stay upright. Even the caller's still part of the game.
Donna Troy     It doesn't take long for the arguments to start. In fact it's on that third move that Troia takes the easy route (for her) of having a /second/ Troia appear to place her right hand on green, while the others struggle with twisting themselves around. It takes a little time persuading her that this is unfair, with Troia explaining that they are both the same person, indeed even the same body, just at different periods in her personal timestream.

    Then there had been the stretching limbs. And after that, a foot that stepped through a hole in reality, which had set off a brief and not very serious contest between America and Troia involving extending limbs through portals. Finally, once many rules had been explained to Troia, many of them made up on the spot, there had been the eventual complaints of 'Human bodies don't bend like that!' and 'Troia, are you just ignoring gravity?'

    Fortunately all the arguments and disputes had been good natured, and Troia seemed as likely to cheat for other people as for herself; more than once someone lost their balance but mysteriously failed to fall.

    Well... that was /probably/ Troia, though it's possible Maddie started using her telekinesis to the same effect -- after a point, you just lose count.

    "Enough!" Troia proclaims after a while, laughing a rare genuine laugh. "I declare all of us winners. Otherwise the arguments over what is and is not a legitimate technique shall go on forever!"
Madison Evans     Madison straightens, but with a grin on her features asks, "Yeah, but- Who wins the most?"
    That's about when an alarm on her phone goes off - and a started expression appears on her features. "ALREADY?!" the girl complains.
    "Fun game!" she calls - and Troia, America, and Victor abruptly all find themselves on the receiving end of one of Maddie's oops-I-forgot-about-consent hugs, before she snatches up a piece of tiramisu, one of the aqua frescas, and her phone. "Okay, I gotta run and see if Irie will run me home before my mother kiiiiills me. Bye!"
    And she's off.
America Chavez     America smiles as she releases her own hold on gravity and simply floats in midair for a moment before straightening to a standing position once more. "That was fun!" she says with a smile. She even forgot about being embarassed--after a while. Madison's hug is a surprise, but she receives it good naturedly enough. "Good luck, Padawan!" she calls after the girl.

    She looks to Troia. See I told you it would be fun" she says with the same smile. "It's worth while to remember that not everything has to have a purpose or reason. Sometimes you just let loo--"

    Her expression turns introspective for a moment as she trails off. After a moment a string of muttered explitives in what is likely Spanish starts running from her mouth in rapid succession. "I swear... if it's a swamp again, I quit." She snatches up one of the Agua Frescas and kicks the air.

    One of her portals just shunts itself into being. "Earth-489 this time, huh? Maybe they just need a mediator for a political dispute..." SHe shakes her head in a show of how likely that possibility is. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Troia. Vic. Good to see you both again. Until next time."

    That said, she jumps through the star portal that closes up behind her with a soft but audible pop as reality reasserts itself.
Victor Stone     Vic laughs delightedly as Troia declares the match over and everyone winners. "Go Titans!" he cheers, and then waves as both Maddie and America leave with urgent matters to attend. "See you guys!"

    He goes to grab himself a slice of tiramisu and an Aqua Fresca. "You really oughta try the tiramisu," he says. "It's always good." A pause, and then, "So... you had fun, huh?"
Donna Troy     Troia nods a polite goodbye to America and Madison, then stares at that Tiramisu for a few moments. After a little thought she retreats to her seat without taking any. There are only so many new experiences she's prepared to pack into a single day, perhaps.

    She leans back, arms on the rests, and tilts her head thoughtfully at Vic. "I... found it amusing, yes," she concedes. "It was different than the things that I normally do. People are unpredictable. When you are faced with a response to the events taking place that you had not anticipated due to the unpredictability of the other people involved in those events, it can be... it can be refreshing. In other circumstances it might be ill-advised to be unprepared for what might happen in that way, but there is... there is a pleasure in knowing that you are in a situation where that unpreparedness is something that is not negative. That can even be positive."
Victor Stone     Vic snorts. "You can say the word 'fun.' That's what you're describing. Having fun with other people." He cracks open the aqua fresca and takes a long drink. "It's, uhh... it's good, you know? I mean, maybe you're a god and all, but you're a /human/ god, and humans are a social species. We build social ties and community through games and things like that."

    He peers out past Troia, toward the ruined landscape beyond her. "Sometimes we even turn it into conflict resolution. There's a whole tradition of kind of... subsuming a lot of cultural differences and tribal rivalries into sports and competitions. Instead of going to war, different countries send teams to sporting events. People compete, people have fun watching, people come together." He gestures. "It's better than... that, you know?"
Donna Troy     Troia stares a thousand yards away, or perhaps a thousand light-years. For a short time it may seem that she wasn't paying any attention to what Vic had been saying, but after a while she says "The Titans are gods of Earth originally. It is natural that we would appear like humans, but that does not make us human." There's a short pause before she continues. "But in my case it is possible you are right. My mother had reasons to keep from me, from everyone, the identity of my father. Of course there was speculation as to what those reasons were. Some concluded the fact she was withholding confirmation proved one case, but others would take the same argument as proving the other. It is possible that I am half mortal."

    Her eyes find Vic again. "Uncle Kronos believed not. But I am not sure. I always felt different to the others. I have always wondered if that meant I am not like them due to being only half a Titan, but it's hard to know. I think it was inevitable I should feel different, because they were born tens of thousands of years ago, and I was born twenty-seven years ago. I was a child surrounded by ageless immortals, the span of my life a bare instant to them. "

    She opens her mouth to say more, but quickly shuts it again, changing her mind. Her head tilts to the side. "I do not fight wars, either," she says after a moment, perhaps to replace what she had initially considered saying. "But I do not think it would appease Olympus were I to challenge Athena to play Twister with me."
Victor Stone     Vic shrugs easily. "I mean... why not? I dunno if I'd lay the outcome of a whole war on a Twister game, but then again... if it'll stop the bloodshed? What's the difference between that and, say, a duel? Two people come out, or two teams come out, champions of their sides, and engage in competition. Everyone agrees that the victor is the 'winner' and the loser gets certain concessions. I mean, it's been /done/ on Earth. The Cherokee people of the American Southeast had a game called stickball--well, have, they've revived it--but they used to use it in place of war. So... why not?"

    He considers Troia for a long moment. "We might've figured out how to... untangle things. Terry's got the details, and there's a few things that have to be done first, but... we're working on it. So everything can go back to normal, soon. We'll be... out of your hair." He watches her, like he's curious about her reaction.
Donna Troy     "There will be no more bloodshed," she replies. "You cannot fight a war if one side refuses to turn up. I will not fight them, there is nothing left to fight for except to increase the hurt the war has caused. The prophecy has been fulfilled -- and once more, it seems that is the fact that prophecy was spoken that made the prophecy come true. "

    She sinks down into her seat a little, shoulders hunched, no longer looking at Vic. "I do not think you will find it as simple as you believe," she says a little more quietly. "The more I have studied this matter, the more convinced I am that nobody will be able to undo it but me. Perhaps your Donna could have, if she existed."
Victor Stone     Vic shrugs. "Maybe so. I think whatever Terry's got in mind does depend on you. And, hey, if you've got ideas... feel free to share. I can pass them on to the others."

    He sighs. "I came around 'cause I've been thinking... maybe you're right, and the Donna we never knew existed. 'Donna' wasn't even her real name. She'd lied to us about her past, not her fault really, the Amazons were hiding things... but we didn't know her. And right now, the way things are, I figure... either you're right, and she never existed, or she and you are entangled in some way I don't understand and she was actually secret a goddess or something. Either way... the person I thought I knew... was she even real?"

    He frowns. "What makes a person who they are, you know? It's... mmm. Donna would get that it's something I struggle with, a lot."
Donna Troy     "I look at this," Troia replies. "This... tangle, as you put it. And I can see it as a snarl in the fabric of what is. Countless threads that lead from What Was to What May Be, threads that should have fallen into non-existence yet somehow remain real, twisted in a billion directions around the point of What Is. Terry is not a being who exists in such a way as to be able to see What Is in this fashion. He is certainly not a being who could unravel such a knot even were he able to see and comprehend its complexities. I know I have the power to do so -- but I... I sometimes wonder if I will ever understand the pattern well enough to be able to do so. It is not simply a matter of power, it is also a matter of understanding. Of seeing the paths those threads should have taken. Each thread impacts each other thread, even those threads that were cut long ago, those threads that do not really exist in any meaningful way, the /potentiality/ of those threads impacts the arrangement of other, more real threads. It is very complicated."

    She smiles slightly to herself. "Besides, Terry is a cat. Were he to be able to see the tangle of threads, he would not be able to help himself from pouncing upon it and tangling it even further, as though it were a ball of yarn."

    "But in that same fashion, your Donna did exist. I mean... in potential. If I am right, and she never existed in the manifest universe, nonetheless -- there is a form in which she can be said to have manifested. When I see Caitlin Fairchild, or Diana of Themyscira, angry at me for not being her -- I see the impact her potentiality has had on the universe. That she has changed people, even if she did not exist. I am... unsure what will happen, when this knot is untangled. It is possible that you will retain your memories of that ghost of potential. It is possible that you will no longer have any memories of her, that all of what has happened will disappear from the manifestation of reality that is Victor Stone, and you will be changed by that. Perhaps you will be a different person. I do not know."

    She breathes deeply, almost a sigh. "It is also possible that you do not exist in the untangled manifestation of What Is, Victor Stone. I have not been able to puzzle the pattern of the threads sufficiently to be sure. I don't know... how far this goes. I believe that your Donna is a manifestation of a part of my subconscious. It is possible that her friends are too. You tell me that people do better with friends, that they need friends. I cannot dismiss the possibility that my subconscious mind feels the same way, and created some. It... it fits. I hope this is not the case, but it does fit."
Victor Stone     Victor hesitates for a moment. Terry's said there's a plan--and that, importantly, they need Raven for the plan to work. So he swallows his knee-jerk reaction to just /tell her/ and nods. "I guess it's hard to know what's... real, and what's not, sometimes. I mean, even if I'm right and Donna really existed... some of the image I had of her in my head was a lie for years. Everyone we know is really just what we /think/ we know of them. Even yourself... the person I think I am, that's just the story I tell myself about my life. It might not be real."

    He shakes his head. "I'm trying to help Madison build a lightsaber, right? And I pull out what I think is a beginniner's kit for cutting wires and stuff, because the whole thing is that she has to build the lightsaber herself. Got it when I was 10. And she looks at it and goes 'where are the screwdrivers.' And then I remembered... oh. Most people weren't cutting wires at 10."

    He sighs. "The story I tell myself is that I was a normal guy until the lab accident and my dad shoving all this tech into my body--or me into the tech--to save my life. But... then I remembered, I was homeschooled for 13 years. When I got to school I was the weird nerdy guy, until I started playing football. That story I tell myself, that's not really true. I've always been different."

    He snorts. "Not that it compares to you, or Cait, or... oh my God, /Rae/. But I'm still not seeing myself clearly, is all I mean. So maybe you're right. Maybe whenever we untangle it all, I just... won't exist at all." He frowns. "Seems kinda sad, though, if you just... don't have friends."
Donna Troy     Troia thinks for a while, then reaches out a hand and plucks a glass of wine from the air. "Would you like one?" she offers. "Or are you content with... whatever it is you are drinking?" Aqua Fresca is something beyond her experience.

    "I think you demand an unrealistic notion of what is real, Victor. You speak as if there is some book somewhere, in the pages of which are a description of who you really are, and any deviation from that script is an error in the manifestation of Reality that calls itself Victor Stone. It is not so."

    "What is real about a person, or a thing is... is how they manifest in the reality of perceptions. Not just your perceptions, but the perceptions of the universe, divided up as it is into small parcels that for a short time believe themselves distinct. You spend time with Terry. You have visited Wonderland. Those experiences alone should have been enough to inform you that truth is not really a binary value, but rather a sliding scale. It is possible for two things to both be true, yet one is more true than the other. It is possible even for two things to be true that contradict each other. Simply put, there are different values of true by which we measure truth."

    "I can tell you this much. I have within me a part of Gaia's Truth, that is known to humankind as the Oracle. It is a... a resonance with the universe, and it allows me to know what is true. It is not infallible, for the reason I have outlined -- truths can be changed to untruths, or may be surpassed by a more real truth. At this moment, here and now, I can tell you that you are real, and you are true, even if in the future, when the knot is untangled, that ceases to be."

    "Where you 'normal' before this lab accident? For a certain value of truth, this is true. You said it yourself -- there are others you know who are more different than you. Is it any more 'true' to compare yourself to the median than to them? If your life before this accident /feels/ like it was normal, then it was normal. Because 'normal' is, after all, only a matter of judgement. When you were at school, you felt that you were not normal, so at that time it was true. Now you look back on yourself at that time and feel that you were normal back then, after all. That is also true, because it is simply the new truth. Your scale of measurement has changed."
Victor Stone     "Sure," Vic says, to the offer of wine. He gladly takes a glass, and listens to all Troia says.

    "You do sound like Donna," he says. "I don't mean in the... it's got the same /feeling/. Guiding people, prodding at their words to get them to see the flaws in their argument." A shrug, and a wry grin. "Makes sense whichever one of is right, huh?"

    He considers it for a moment. "I'm a scientist," he says finally. "Even magic, to me, is really just... a part of the universe I don't understand yet. Even /Terry/ follows rules and laws that kinda make sense when you squint at them hard enough. Rule number one: don't let the glitter get on /anything/." He snorts. "My Roombas started gaining sentience a few months back."

    He sighs. "Which is to say... I get what you mean. I might call it, uhh, quantum indeterminancy, or maybe I'd compare it to superposition. The first is the idea that we just /can't/ know everything about a physical system with perfect accuracy, because there's a finite limit on information content. It's led to the idea that, at least as quantum mechanics tells us, nothing really exists until it's /observed/. A particle just doesn't have spin, or momentum, until it's measured. Until then it's a jumble of probability. And the other... the idea that two things can be true at once, in fact /are/ true at once, until they're measured."

    He peers at Troia. "Maybe you--and all of us--are a little like Schrodinger's cat, right now. It's, uhh... it's a thought experiment. Put a cat in a box, with a flask of poison and a radioactive source. Trigger the flask to shatter as soon as radioactive decay is detected. And, see, the way radioactive deay works, it doesn't /really/ happen until it's measured. So... certain interpretations of quantum mechanics imply that at some point the cat is both alive and dead, at the same time. That somehow the cat is in a state of /both/ until you open the box and see whether the cat's alive or dead."

    He chuckles. "I mean, the idea of a multiverse really neatly gets around that. The answer is that in one universe the cat lives and in another it dies. But even then--which one do you move forward in? If you open the box and the cat is alive, are you still the same person as the person who opens the box to a dead cat?"

    He snorts. "Also, how messed up are scientists, huh? Killing a poor cat, even in a thought experiment." A grin. "But yeah, no, I get what you mean. Things are... fluid, and in flux, and everything's relative, and we only really exist in relation to other things. To their perceptions, and in connection with them."
Donna Troy     "Ridiculous," Troia declares as she summons up a second glass of wine for herself. It's an astonishingly good wine. "This simply goes to show that human scientists are grotesquely anthropocentric. Does it not occur to them that the /cat/ has perceptions too? It will know very well if it is alive or not, without requiring a human scientist to open a box and tell it. Reality is, after all, a measuring device."

    "I think it is more helpful to view things in terms of the manifestation of possibilities. It makes little sense to talk of something is indeterminate until it is measured, because that is, if you think about it, a tautology. Everything is undetermined until it has been determined. Were you to leave the box long enough, the radioactivity would undoubtedly be detected. Indeed, were you to leave the box long enough, the cat would die of starvation. In these circumstances, there is no question that the cat has died. Does it make sense to suggest that you can observe a thing by not observing it for /long enough/?"

    Troia's lips wrinkle into an odd smile. "Let us try another thought experiment. You wonder if you lead a normal life before your accident. Let us imagine a boy in lab, in a box, with a radioactive source. If a particle of radioactive decay is detected, the lab explodes, and the boy has his injured body reconstructed with technological components. If it does not, the boy goes back to school the next day. Can we say, before we have opened the box and observed the results of our experiment, whether the boy is normal or not? In the first case, compared to what he becomes, he is surely normal. In the second, he remains the 'weird and nerdy kid'."

    "It's a ridiculous experiment, Victor Stone. You do not ask if you are normal to look for the truth, because that truth is subjective. You can choose whichever answer you like. A more interesting question to ask yourself would be why you choose the answer that you do."
Victor Stone     "Hey, when they figured this out, modern scientists had no /idea/ the world was that weird. They were convinced you could measure absolutely everything precisely down to the smallest atom." Vic snorts. "Imagine their shock when they found out atoms aren't even the fundamental state of the universe. But the whole point is to shake up that conception. The universe isn't what it appears to be. It's /weird/, it defies common sense."

    He frowns, then, something between a scowl and a thoughtful furrowing of the brow. "I've spent a lot of time thinking I was a freak. That people were only tolerating me because... I don't know. Kindness, or my father's money, something else. I know my friends don't /really/ see me that way. And I know out in the world people recognize me on sight more often than not, I'm a celebrity now. But if I weren't... people goggle, they ogle. Maybe it shouldn't bother me, but it does. And I've spent a lot of time... blaming my father for that. If not for the lab accident, I wouldn't be what I am. Some kind of... 'monster.'"

    He sighs. "But... if not for the lab accident, I don't meet the people who are my family now. You know? I'm... I dunno if I'd say I'm mostly over that, but I'm in a way better place than I used to be. But I think... I think I want a concrete answer because without it I have these... gnawing doubts, that I can't seem to shake. I look around the Tower, and I say, 'these are my friends. This is my /family/. I love them, and they love me. Things are good.'"

    A wry twist of his lips. "But then... well, then one day my friend starts talking and acting differently, and people tell me probability's all tangled up, and maybe she never existed, and I start to doubt. And I know I should trust and believe, or whatever... but it keeps eluding me. I wish it didn't."

    He frowns down at his hands. "Maybe I'm just waiting for it to all fall apart again. For the team to break up, no matter how hard I hold on. I'd hate to be left alone in the Tower, the way Raven was."
Donna Troy     Troia jerks back slightly, as if flinching from a physical blow. It's the smallest of motions and she recovers quickly, but it's there.

    "Vic... Victor, it sounds to me like you are trying to substitute how other people see you for a sense of you who you are, because you doubt yourself. The problem with that is that people will see you differently. I... I think you compare me all the time to your friend Donna, but you do so to try to understand me, knowing that I am different. Caitlin and Diana compare me too, but for different reasons -- to determine my value. To them, the measure is Donna. Or... well, this other Troia. In their eyes, the more like her I am the better, and the less like her I am the worse. Those who have known me, but not that alternative version of me judge my by entirely different measures. The truth in any of these judgements is relative to the point of view that informs it, and nothing else. To observe these judgements people make of me -- it can inform me. But it does not /define/ me. Indeed often it will inform me more of the person making the judgement than it does myself."

    "In your case perhaps you should consider that the same may be true. That there are those who will view you as a monster and those that will view you as a friend, and that distinction tells you more about the people making that judgement than it does about the person they are judging. If we want to learn more about ourselves from the way other people view us, we can only really do so in reference to the person who makes that judgement."

    "But I..." her words come to a halt, and her features move with a flurry of reactions as she considers how to continue what she is saying. This, Victor knows by now, is not a common occurrence for Troia. For /this/ Troia. Normally she is very self-contained but for momentary flashes of expression hinting at her inner dialogue -- this is more like the Donna Victor knows, who struggles not to wear her heart on her sleeve at all times. "Everything falls apart in time, Victor," she says finally. "Nothing can last forever. There is only so much thread left to be woven on the loom of the Moirae, and the universe moves ever towards its end. What matters is how you spend the time before then. Do not fill it with contemplation of that inevitable future time, or you give yourself to entropy."
Victor Stone     Vic listens to all of this, drinking the wine, frowning thoughtfully. "I know all of that, about how other people see me, up here." He taps the side of his head. "Still working on knowing it in here." He taps at his chest, where a soft red glow sits not where his heart is, but reflects it all the same.

    For a moment, a flicker of something like hope goes through his expression, at the way Troia falters, at the hint of Donna in there. But gloom settles over him again at 'everything falls apart in time,' and he sighs. "Yeah. I s'pose you're right. For now... I'm here in the Tower. For now, I'm a Titan. And I know one thing--there's nothing we can't do, if we do it together. Even untangling the knot that's been made in reality."

    He reaches over to put the wine down, having finished off his tiramisu a while ago. "I'd better get going. But... look, I think you're right, that ultimately fixing this is gonna be up to you. I think you probably need some help, and we've got an idea how to do that. So just... hang in there, okay?" He's not really saying it to her. He's saying it to whatever part of her is still Donna, and still dreaming. "In the meantime, I think I'll come by more often. Maybe you're not the Troia I knew, but you're /a/ Troia, and you're the one that's here right now. If I can be friends with one Troia I can be friends with 'em all." He grins.
Donna Troy     Diana and Caitlin are certainly right about one thing when it comes to this Troia -- she's not as positive and optimistic as the Troia they know. Perhaps it offends them to think this characteristic of Donna's could be omitted. Perhaps had they been there for this conversation, it might occur to them that such aspects of a person aren't simply inherent. This is a Troia who has lived a very different life, and cannot be judged by the same values.

    Here is a Troia who was not taken away from her mother when still a baby, was not lied to about who she was and where she came from, was not orphaned by a lie for the sake of ancient politics. And yet it's the Troia Vic knows much better, of whom all those things were true, who seems to have benefitted. Perhaps a near fatal accident in a lab can change someone for the better, too.

    And yet, as Victor says, she's /a/ Troia. For all that those similarities when they show up can hurt, can give false hope, she is /a/ Troia.

    "I... would like that, Victor," she replies.