Owner	Pose
Donna Troy	To the mystically inclined, Metropolis /feels/ very different to New York. The sense of an ever-growing magical presence in Manhattan might not even fully register until you travel far enough away for the absence of the deeply ordered magic of the Angelic Order to be noticeable. Half way through New Jersey, it's almost like the world is normal again. But then, as the mystically sensitive approach Metropolis, a new and different sense of something wrong starts pervading the senses. A much more disordered magical disturbance, one rooted in chaos rather than order, one that seems to promise the collapse of all that is sane and rational rather than the imposition of divine order. The people of Philadelphia probably have a very serene and balanced view of the world right now.     Despite that sense of magical chaos, St. Martin's island seems pretty peaceful, and the gleaming high-tech wonder that is Titans Tower, standing just off-shore seems like a beacon of calm in an uncertain world when you approach from outside.     Inside? Not so much, but that's the Titans for you.     When Jonathan Sims and Cael Becker approach the front door of the tower, the door opens automatically to allow them entrance into the lobby, and a synthesized voice greets them. "Welcome to Titans Tower, Doctor Sims and guest. Please follow the line of lights to the elevator. You are awaited in the main room." They seem to have some pretty smart security here.     Up in the main room, the new arrivals will see the huge screen, dominating one wall of the room, displaying a live map of Metropolis on it, a storm of symbols scattered around the map, and news feeds streaming up one side. A brief observation will indicate that this must be connected to that sense of chaotic magic - a reminder that Metropolis has its own issues to deal with at the moment, with a strange flurry of events of High Weirdness having occupied the attention of the city for some weeks now.     As the elevator doors open to admit Jonathan and Cael, Donna Troy puts the tablet she'd been using to interface with the main screen down on the sofa beside her and walks over to greet them. "Doctor Sims," she says with a pleasant smile. "And guest. Hi, I'm Donna Troy. Or Troia, take your pick. Please come on in and make yourselves comfortable. Do you have news? Anything you've been able to uncover from the data we sent you yet?"
Sarah Rainmaker	She's a guest here. That doesn't necessarily make things easier. Sarah Rainmaker has spent the last day just going through books and Internet pages. Most of it being well beyond her capacity to analyse. It's giving her a headache. So the Apache Gen-Active is sitting out in one of the main areas, a couple of books on mythology and various incarnations of angelic beings and divinity spread out. She's got a notepad in front of her and is occasionally jotting down something. While she does so, her off-hand not holding a pen would occasionally spark and sizzle.     So a break is more than happy as the other Titans seem to be doing something and she's just following along as she would hear things happening. She's going to fold the books shut and tuck her notebook against them, going to follow along with her eyes closed.
Terry O'Neil	Vorpal is currently occupying a section of the couch, one arm draped dramatically over his eyes. Every now and then he elicits a little groan here and there, including one as the the guests come in. "I have... the worst hangover in the history of mankind. No-one has ever felt like I am feeling right now. My head is splitting. My headache has a headache. And /that/ headache has a headache," he comments to the world in general, a Cyranesque recitation of ailments, a litany of woes. "... god, I hate angels." He slowly sits up, the Cheshire cat blinks in the direction of the newcomers as Troia receives them. "Hello-"
Cael Becker	"I swear, I'm going to put a tracker on the inside of your coat, though, next time I let you out of my sight," Cael is just muttering to Jon as she pair step out of the elevator. Beside them is a rather large, cheerful looking mound of white fur in a brightly colored service vest labeling the great pyrenees pup as 'in training.' Bear seems perfectly content to pad along with Cael and Jon, as the woman with hair a vibrant mix of blonde and rainbow hues lets the conversation drop. She lets her gaze take in the room, before landing on the woman who addressed them. "Ms. Troy isn't it? I'm Cael Becker with the FBI. Thank you for have... ing me." Her gaze goes to Vorpal, a frown pulling at her lips. "You had your own encounter with them?" she asks. "Well. Maybe my story isn't necessary today, then."
Jonathan Sims	Jon wears a turtleneck sweater in russet brown, and black slacks, looking a little pale despite his brown skin. He glowers at Cael briefly and says, "I /had/ a tracker on the inside of my jacket, but they /took my bloody phone/." He huffs. "It's fine. I'm /fine/. Stop fretting, good lord, you'll give yourself a migraine."     As they come out of the elevator, he smiles to Donna and says, "Agent Becker wanted to relay her experience with the angel at the head of this whole business." He looks toward the large monitor, then around the room at the others gathered. "Seems like you have a lot on your hands already. I'll try not to take too much of your time." He's spent enough time aorund superheroes by now to not be weirded out by being in their base. Titans Tower is gleaming compared to, say, the Roost but not all that strange. More to the point, the only weird glance he gives Vorpal is raised eyebrows.     "Ahh... yes. Angels do seem to give headaches."
Donna Troy	Donna nods her head to Cael and replies "Please, just Donna or Troia will do fine. We're not exactly formal here." She holds out a hand to Bear to sniff at, exuding friendly vibes -- she may not have her sister's supernatural rapport with animals, but she has dealt with them her whole life. One day she might bring a pet of her own to the tower, but there's this whole /issue/ with importing twelve-foot tall war kangaroos into America. "Welcome to Titans Tower. The cat with the headache inception is Vorpal, and this is Sarah." Just Sarah. No codenames, nothing. Donna glances meaningfully at Jon and adds "She's an old friend of Caitlin's who came by to see if there was anything she could do to help. Can I offer either of you drinks?"     She follows Jon's gaze to the monitor, and nods her head in agreement. "I'm sure you've come across the news reports of weird things happening in Metropolis lately. Kind of big news until people decided an asteroid was going to crash into the Eastern seaboard. We're working on trying to locate the source of it all. We suspect an incursion from..." she glances briefly at Terry, then shrugs slightly. "...One of the Faery realms."     "We had an an encounter with them indeed," she says to Cael. "Did Jon not mention it to you? I can show you if you like. But please, everyone's story is useful information. This is certainly one of those situations where we can't have too much information."
Sarah Rainmaker	Sarah Rainmaker would give a wave over and then cock her head. Training and experience buried under wanting to live a normal life and not have to eternally play duck and cover is rearing it's head up and taking over. And now parts of her she was in deep denial and terror over are in control again. Old instincts and habits that she'd had to hide with and learn and live by. Now they're in again and she feels so lost.     "How dangerous are they? What are normal powers for them? How do they tend to oeprate if they're being hostile? Do they tend to have specific tactics they utilize in combat or organization?" The part of her that was trained to not just fight..     But to evaluate how to fight and strategize. How to stop. Beat. Defeat.     The fact she can say these things so casually and openly for Sarah is like a slap in the face from herself.
Terry O'Neil	The Cheshire glances at Donna with a surprised glance, "Donna, Wonderland is /not/ a Faery Realm. What ever gave you that idea?" he says, looking at his friend like she just said two and two equals seven. He gets to his feet, a little wobbly but not majorly so, and catches sight of Bear. And then of Cael. "Oh. My. God. I /love/ your hair!" he says, but then stays exactly where he is, explaining: "I'd come to shake your hand, but I don't know how doggy will react to a walking talking cat." He glances at Bear again, and opens a tiny Rabbit Hole, out of which he produces a doggy treat. "I could give him this. Gar won't miss it." No explanations given. Sarah gets the only answer he can give her: "Their powers are being extremely annoying and making handsome cats trip balls, Sarah. They are... a headache," he nods in agreement with Jon. He didn't recognize him at first, without the glitter, "Sounds like there's a story about to be told."
Cael Becker	"Well. If it's Donna - then just Cael'd be fine," the woman agrees easily, as Bear sniffs at Donna's hand - and then sits beside Cael, giving a few thumps of his tail.     "Jon mentioned that you went to inspect the... 'star,'" Cael remembers - a frown on her features as she continues to study Vorpal. "Is //that// where he picked up his angel-headache?"     She shifts her attention to Terry directly as she adds, "He's service trained. He shouldn't react to cat - humanoid or otherwise. And you're welcome to give him a treat, if that'll set you more at ease. He's a good dog, though. Right, Bear?" she says, with obvious fondness in her voice - getting a few eager thumps of Bear's tail in response.     "Jon, I was trying to give //you// a headache," she murmurs to her friend, before she returns her attention to the matter at hand. "I, uhhh... I guess I just worried a little that since one of your friends is siding //with// the angels - well. The thought of all the Titans deciding to side with them is something I'd prefer not to even contemplate. So... if my story is able to add any additional //clarity// to matter... I'm happy to share it."
Jonathan Sims	"Metropolis feels... strange," Jon admits. "Chaotic, disordered... it should be bothersome, but it's... oddly comforting somehow? It may be chaos, but it isn't /ifset/. Strange, but not... violent." He shrugs. "Perhaps Faery explains it; I'm rather fond of the Fae, I've discovered. Or... Wonderland? Hmm. I was always fond of Wonderland." Something's... different about him, subtly, from the last time he met Donna /or/ Terry. Looser, somehow.     He nods. "That's what I'm here to address... to share what data we have, and make sure you're officially informed. And..." He glances to Sarah. Frowns slightly. "I... will admit I'm not entirely certain what's going on with Ms. Fairchild, save that the Archangel Michael, leader of the invasion force, has spoken to her. But yes, we can get into all those details, I think I have something somewhere..."     He pulls out his phone, then looks up and smiles to Donna. "Tea would be lovely, if you have it."
Donna Troy	"Clarity is something we're very much lacking, so that would be a good start," Donna tells Cael with a weary smile. It looks like she hasn't been sleeping well of late."     Donna moves to the kitchen area to start making some tea. "Earl Gray, Oolong, green, pu-erh, jasmine, masala chai or English breakfast?" Donna calls back to Jon. "We have various herbal teas and fruit infusions too. Wendy! Please play file two-two-one-intruder-vee-one on the main screen, please."     The same voice that had greeted Jon and Cael at the door speaks over the PA, the soft voice replying "Certainly, Donna." The map of Metropolis fades from view and the giant screen fills with a heavily-faceted oblate spheroid drifting through space, scintillating with countless golden-white gleams of brilliant light as the camera moves in a great slow arc around it.     "We're not really sure what's going on with Caitlin either," Donna says as she fetches cups for the tea. "But I think the angels have done more than speak to her. I believe they're referring to her as 'the Prophet' now."
Sarah Rainmaker	Archangel Michael? Spoke to Caitlin? These sorts of things are far beyond Rainmaker's ken. She doesn't know what to say, or what to do on them. "Then we make him stop and let her go." Probably not something that's actually reasonable to offer up as a proposal. "I'm going to save my friend." Her tone firm. The one thing that's a priority for her. And with a willingness to take nearly any sort of thing to do to help do it, damn the consequences.     The mystical implications of this well beyond anything she could do.     Donna's comments on 'the prophet' getting more of a frown on her lips as she would sigh.. "I'm sorry. Please continue on and.." She would wave a hand in the air as if trying to break her own spell over herself.
Terry O'Neil	"Oh, rest assured, I would /never/ take the side of those jackasses," Vorpal grouses. Bear gets the treat, and he manages to resist the urge to pet the dog. Because so much floof. "I went to Catholic School. You can bet your jimmies that I will do anything in my power to foil their plans." He glances at Sarah, and grimaces. "Yeah. The Prophet. I am not crazy about that, either.":
Cael Becker	"Chai sounds good to me," Cael offers, shoving her hands into her pockets, and looking towards Sarah for a moment, as she tries to sort out what parts of her tale to tell. She probably doesn't need to go into all the lurid, graphic details like she had with Caitlin. ... Just the facts.     "I don't know that- Well. I //do// know that Michael hasn't done to your friend what he did to me - but it may or may not have some similarities. He can affect minds. It's- I should just start at the beginning." She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, while Bear lets out a quiet whine, scooting closer to Cael until he's pressed against her leg.     "I don't exactly have the cleanest past. It's all cleared up with the law now, obviously, or I wouldn't have my current position in law enforcement - but as a kid, I broke the law. I stole. I... did worse. When we learned an angel was hunting and punishing sinners - when I showed up at one of the crime scenes - it chose //me// at the next victim. And the thing is- well. What this angel does, is he gets into your head. He makes you believe you deserved to be punished and killed for your crimes, no matter how petty. He strips you of your freewill, and fills you with this sense of peace, and love, and acceptance. There's no better feeling - there's no greater high." After another deep, slow voice she adds, "So he gets into your head- well. Got into //my// head. He burned my hands and feet, and then got me to... nail myself to a cross. The only reason I'm still here is that my friends," she nods to Jon, "arrived to save me. And even then - he told me to get down off the cross and stop my friends from preventing my redemption. So I tore out the nails and started to fight them.     "There's no way to know if he's controlling or influencing your friend - but it's the same being. And when I told your friend this story, she told me either I was tricked, and what I believed happened hadn't happened... Or I deserved what happened to me. So yeah, I think your friend needs help."     Cael's voice remains calm and even as she talks, but there's subtle signs of tension in her arms, and shoulders, as she keeps her hands shoved deep into her pockets. And beside her, Bear lets out a periodic whine, leaning against her, and dancing on his forepaws.
Jonathan Sims	"Masala chai?" Jon says absently as he walks over to peer at the screen. He listens to Cael's explanation, his own shoulders tense, and absently reaches up to massage at a pressure point on the front of his left shoulder.     "I think," Jon says slowly, "that the angels may be affected by our perception. That, to some degree, they are what we think they are supposed to be. And so Michael, when in possession of Chas Chandler, was... an avenging angel of the old-school Catholic style. Still /Michael/, still warrior and messenger, as I am told he was back to the days of Atlantis."     He turns to look at the others. "And so it may be that he is not /quite/ what he was when possessing Chas, now. But there can be no doubt he means to bring an army to bear. And... there can /also/ be no doubt that this is what many Christians, at least, believe is coming." He looks to Terry. "I didn't go to Catholic school, but every school in England is Anglican, and I was a choir boy." He smirks. "I left, obviously. Regardless, I don't know how much of that is at play."     To Sarah, "In terms of fighting...? We can't be certain, yet. I know there are... levels. A whole hierarchy. I'm working on trying to figure out what their strategy may be, but ahh... I need to get in touch with someone about that. I can provide you with the information, however."
Sarah Rainmaker	Sarah Rainmaker would go to rub her hand over at her side, "So we find the ones to target and take them out if necessary." not the most coherent plan of action. "But if they're going to send lesser powered entities after us, it gives if need be a chance to evaluate how to fight them." The shock from her at this getting lesser and lesser as things that.. It was what I/O had wanted her to be for after all. IT was what her parents had been intended for.     It was the fate that her sister and brother never escaped from. And she would just go along with it if it gave a chance. She would nod at Jonathan Sims. "They still think, they still feel. They can be hurt. If need be then they can be brought down to Earth. Literally. Then they will reap the whirlwind."
Donna Troy	Donna makes the tea for Cael and Jon, bringing Jon's to him first. She holds the chai out to Cael while keeping a little distance so as not to worry Bear, and gives her a sympathetic smile. With the tea delivered she steps back a couple of places and whispers "Good boy, Bear." It's a strange place and his human is distressed so hopefully it will help him to hear positive voices to suggest these other strange humans are friends, but it's intended as much for Cael's ears, to direct her attention to the calming influence of her service dog.     "Sarah, a few months ago Caitlin and I stood in Tartarus and I swore to her that I would conquer Tartarus itself to get her free of it," Donna says to the obviously distressed young woman. "Hell or Heaven, the same applies. We'll see she's safe, together. I promise." Donna needs to stop making such wild promises, some time she's going to get called on them. "Would you like some tea too? And you, Terry?" She's already heading back to the kitchen area. "Fae-adjacent, by the way Terry. That was the phrase that was used. Wendy, forwards to frame nine-six-five-six-three and pause please."     "Certainly, Donna," the synthesized voice chimes. On the screen the image blurs forwards and freezes. Where the faceted asteroid had initially appeared, there are now visible a huge array of thousands of winged beings travelling through space in a fixed formation. Some look like the conventional angel image, but others take radically different forms, though each is winged.     "The way people have described angels and similar entities throughout history has varied radically," Donna observes. "Whether that's because there are many different forms, or whether there are many different forms because throughout history people have expected them to appear in different ways is... an interesting question."
Terry O'Neil	There is a very low growl coming from Vorpal's throat now, at the description of what Cael went through. "... that... fucking son-of-a... " He clenches his hand into a fist. The guilt. The protestations of worthlessness. The demands to penance. The feelings of unworthiness. Oh, he knows all of that, all too well. He stands up, incensed. "That's it. I'm going to talk to every witch, sorcerer, exorcist, witch doctor and mage JL Dark may know until I find someone who can help me become resistant to holiness. I refuse to sit on the sidelines while that assho-" He pauses, and then he stares at Donna, his brain suddenly registering something she said. "Wait. The phrase that was used by WHOM?"
Cael Becker	"Thank you," Cael says automatically as she accepts the tea - and then Terry is on his feet, ranting, and railing against the cruelty of the universe - or at least, the cruelty of Michael. For a moment, an appreciative smile flickers across her features. "I was the lucky one. My friends saved me. The other ten victims, though..." She shakes her head slightly, then catches the image of the angels flying through space on the massive display. Her breath catches in her throat for a moment, and she turns away. That's- hell. That's a reaction she's going to have to master if she's going to be any help in the coming days.      After another whine from Bear, she reaches down to scritch at the top of his head with her free hand. "I'm okay, Bear. Really. You're a very good boy."
Jonathan Sims	Jon takes the tea with a murmured thanks, and turns to look at Sarah and Donna for a moment. "I have asked, and will keep asking, those leading the defense not to kill the mortals who may be fighting with the angels. They /believe/. Would I not fight alongside Ra if he came down to Earth? If Sekhmet scoured the land with her breath because she deemed it unworthy?" There's something sympathetic and understanding in his tone.     He shakes his head. "Ms. Fairchild seems like a good young woman who is caught up in something beyond her control, as much as any of the rest of us. If we meet on the field of battle, you have my word I will ensure she lives." A mystical promise, and so one he cannot break, lest his own life be forfeit. A moment that will likely not be noticed, when the history of these days are written, but there is fate, wrapping him on up in its tangled skeins.     After all, it was always going to be his own nature that drove him to the fate the gods have in store.     He doesn't even noticed what he's done, taking a sip of his tea. Makes a noise of assent, and then regards Terry gravely. "I'll get you in touch with Lydia Dietrich. She's the one who came with with the circles that bound Michael--if /anyone/ can help you ward against holiness, it'll be her. She's dealing with that problem herself."     Then he turns to peer at the screen again. "I've been theorizing that it may be the latter, but it's hard to say for sure. What we need is to have multiple people with different ideas of what an angel should look like all look at one at once and ask what they see, I suppose."
Sarah Rainmaker	Donna's words are enough to calm Sarah Rainmaker, even if her thoughts are going to things that the shouldn't. "I'll do whatever I can to help. Just giv me orders." She would close her eyes and go back to thoughtfulness, not moving at the offer of tea nor reacting to the (well deserved) animosity from the abuse of faith figures. Now she's focused on her own little world while being entirely contemplative. She would glance at Jon and take a breath in thought.     "Then she's the one they're manipulating for a reason. If they've gone out of their way to alter her. Then the logic for that is something to be followed up on. It might give something that can be used gainst them." HOw cn she be so calm over this? She's closing her eyes and brings herself to a state of tranquility. Considering the words of Jonathan at a purely tactical level.
Donna Troy	"One of Hekate's servants, Terry," Donna answers with a dismissive wave. "Something to do with a mortal sorcerer in the place where Dream meets the Faery Relams." A conflicted frown flickers across her features. "You could always talk to Rae, Terry," Donna says. "She's not... well she'd probably be up to figuring out a mobile ward that would cancel out the angelic aura. But I'd like to keep her out of this as much as possible... for reasons." There's a finality to the way she says that, but whether that's enough to discourage anyone asking questions is another matter.     With neither Terry nor Sarah taking up her offer of tea, Donna simply fixes herself a cup of oolong, and steps back out from the kitchen area to seat herself on one of the arms of the sofa. "In any battle, it is best if you avoid killing /anyone/ if you can," she says to Jonathan. "The reason the goddesses granted us Amazons not just the strength we have but immortal lifespans to learn to be the best warriors we can is because of this fact. We are supposed to be good enough that we can afford not to kill those we fight. Life, /all/ life, is sacred. Just ask Neith, Jon. We should avoid killing angels too, if we possibly can. Any news on the Enochian translation yet?"
Cael Becker	"Like Jon - I plan on doing what I can to protect any people caught up in this," Cael agrees. "I tried talking to Ms. Fairchild, as I said. I tried to talk her out of her course. She listened, but- it made no difference. If you think my story can persuade anyone that the angels need to be resisted, that we need to find a way to save ourselves, and our world - then... Well. I'd rather what happend to me serve at least some purpose, you know? Make a difference somehow." Which means telling the story - rather than hiding it.     Even as she talks, Bear continues to let out a periodic quiet whine, until Cael finally relents. "Fine, fine. I'll sit down. That'll make you happy?" She finds herself a spot on one of the chairs - and Bear immediately shoves his head in her lap, tumping his tail happily.     Yes. It //does// make him happy.     "I've been advised it's a bad idea to kill Michael, specifically..." But there's a part of her that still wants to try it.     Very badly.
Terry O'Neil	Terry just /stares/ at Donna. "Are you... wait, Hekate's servant says that-" Not now, O'Neil. That's a conversation for later. Frustratingly so. They have company. Must be polite to the poor people who have suffered at the hands of that asshole angel- BACK TO THE ANGEL. The asshole. The jerk. The Cheshire cat nods at Cael, and then at Donna. "We may not kill angels, but I make no promises that I am not going to flamingo club them in their allegedly nonexistant daddybags, Donna Troy. What that Michael did, that is... that is the kind of bullshit I got subjected to back at the church-" he holds up his hands, "Short of the crucifixion, but... it was emotional abuse in any way you see it, and I am not going to hold back against the servants or any god who thinks /that/ is okay." He hufffs and sits down again, nodding at Jon, "Lydia. Okay. Please, give her my number. I want to work on this. We have innocent lives to save, angels whose butts need to be kicked... and a friend who needs to be rescued."
Jonathan Sims	Jon stares at the image of the angels on the screen. "I have not had the training you have had," he says, thoughtfully, "but I swore the Hippocratic Oath, and I intend to find another way to stop this if we can. We have non-lethal weaponry, and it's been confirmed multiple times that fighting alone will not end this."     He glances aside to Terry. "The git told me that marrying my husband was the 'least' of my sins. I still need to find the right way to tell him where he can shove it. He may well be influenced by humans, but that doesn't make me any happier about the whole business." And he has to subject himself to it, soon enough. Lovely.     "The Enochian translation is held up by our resident Enochian expert having some personal issues. I'll be speaking to her in the next couple of days. I would /guess/ it's something like 'holy holy holy' but it's definitely worth checking on. And I've asked Jane Foster to share her data with you, so get in touch if she doesn't. I don't know how much /any/ of this will help, but..."     He frowns. "I know that Sarah here is willing to help, and Terry's a memeber of the JLD and has a beef with angels that I wholeheartedly support. The rest of you... are you going to be able to help, or will you need to focus on Metropolis?" A pause. "I would understand the latter. There will surely be refugees, and the /last/ thing we need is Wonderland and angels clashing with each other."
Sarah Rainmaker	Sarah Rainmaker's tone would be flat, "Just as they deserve to die doesn't mean we have the right to kill them." Something pulled up from somewhere in her headspace. Something that calmed her to hear herself saying something rational and letting her work off some of the edge of her anger.     "We're here to get our friend back." And to stop an angelic attempt to exterminate existence. But she has a priority.     "Caitlin would have sacrificed everything for me and nearly did. I abandoned her when she was in need. I owe it to myself to not abandon her again." Her voice was calm and focused. She had her mantra. She had her intent. She had her goal.
Donna Troy	"Singing hosannas," Donna says. nodding in agreement with Jon. "Choir of angels type thing. That's what I'm expecting too, but it's worth knowing. And it's also worth figuring out if we can do something with that recording. I'm thinking... you know the story of the Golem of Prague? That thing about how the Golem was brought to life with the Hebrew word /emet/ written on its forehead, and could be killed by erasing the aleph to turn /emet/ into /met/? Those words have power. And I don't just mean power to get Terry stoned. When we played the recording as audio on the bridge of the ship, it caused glyphs to appear in the air. So... maybe we can figure out some way to corrupt the song, or whatever it is, and use it as a weapon against them."     Donna sips her tea thoughtfully, kicking her legs out. "We will help in New York as well as in Metropolis, Jon," she says eventually. "The Titans is a big group, and we're no longer limited to dealing with one major threat at a time. Actually I've been thinking it was about time we opened a branch in New York."
Cael Becker	"Well. There's about to be plenty of free real estate." If only for a few days. Listening to the others talk, Cael begins to relax again - or maybe it's simply the dog's presence in her lap.     Or, hell, maybe it's the tea.     But it was becoming perfectly clear that there was never any chance the Titans as a whole were going to side with the Angels - she'd been worried over nothing. And honestly... that was reassuring. "I wish I could be more help planning these sorts of things. But I'm still way out of my depth."
Terry O'Neil	"Oh, honey, we're all out of our depths, but that has never stopped us before," Vorpal says, slipping back into his more customary persona, now that there is a chance he can channel his six years worth of total spite and distaste for angels at a promising target. "We once got lost in a black hole for three months and ended up leaving a path of chaos across several different alien worlds on our way back. One of those planets still has its entire population sporting a cat butt tattoo on each and every one of their foreheads. We're Titans. We adapt and do whatever is necessary to save people." He glances at Donna. "... I'll have some of that tea now."
Jonathan Sims	"Oh," Jon says, eyes widening at Donna. "Lydia built a golem of her own. I... I wonder if..." A thousand possibilities run through his mind, and he actually has to put a hand to his head to make it /stop/. Takes a long, fortifying drink of tea.     "Titans New York," he murmurs absently. "Lyra would've been thrilled. My daughter. She loved you all, used to have a poster and everything. Lost in a black hole? Sounds fascinating. I should ask you about the story sometime."     He rights himself. "Good. Good. Thank you. Sorry, it's... been a long day. Week? Few weeks? I suppose you get used to it, hmm? Well. I'll get this data to Dr. Foster, and ensure that you can collaborate, and I'll get Asariel on the Enochian right away... and Lydia on a couple of things, now. Give us a ring if you're incoming, just so nobody mistakes you for angels and tries to shoot."     He finally walks over away from the screen, and gives Cael a steady look, then very deliberately reaches out to ruffle her hair. "Be nice," he says in a chiding tone. "Those are people's homes and businesses. I'm certain the Titans can find themselves a headquarters in New York easily enough."
Donna Troy	Jon's expression is just about what Donna had wanted to see -- ideas churning away. More than anything, this has always been the Titans way. Nothing is off the table and every option is worth discussing, and that's why the Titans have a history of pulling unlikely wins out of the hat, even back in the early days when they were distinctly under-powered compared to the big guys.     Donna stares at Terry, sipping her tea. She makes no move to make some for Terry. He had his chance, he should have spoken sooner. Sip.     She turns to Cael instead. "'See to your preparations and defend your people as you see fit. Or do not, and ensure our victory with your inaction.' That's what the angels told us. We're all out of our depths, but who are we to dispute the advice of angels, even if they are a bit psychopathic?" she asks, grinning slightly.     The grin fades a little. "Jon. If this... if it ever gets to the point where you think that we're out of options, and there's no more that can be done to stop the Angels erasing the universe, let me know. Straight away. Terry, shut up."
Terry O'Neil	"No, listen to me, Donna. Why aren't the gods of Olympus talking? I can't imagine they would be happy with some holier than though icarus-wannabes rebooting the universe in their semblance. And what about Eris? Shouldn't someone get a hold of her? She is-" He pauses, and glances around, rethinking his phrasing on the spot. "She takes her revenges very seriously, and the universe going away will mean she will not be able to get her revenge on me." What he WANTED to say is 'she's a petty ratchet bitch who has a hateboner for me, so shouldn't we use that to our advantage to turn her against them?' But he didn't, because he HAS learned. "Shouldn't we take a quick trip to Themyscira and see what the Oracle says?" He does think this is an idea with potential. Also... a trip to Themyscira again. That would be awesome.
Cael Becker	"He- hey! Sims!" Cael protests, scowling at the man, and running her hand through her hair to smooth it back down. "What the fuck?" she asks pointedly, rolling her eyes at the man widely.     "I spent all my 'be nice' this week, already. And I'm not talking about taking over people's //homes//... But there's got to be a multi-billion dollar corporation who wouldn't miss a building or two."     She looks over towards Terry with a wry smile as she adds, "If I can't shoot my problems - I generally don't know what to do with them. Hammer - nail. I'm a simple girl."     She sighs at Donna before adding, "That's better than the message they had for me. 'Perhaps one of you is fit to be judged by my hand.' They're real pricks."
Jonathan Sims	Jon /beams/ at Cael's reaction, eyes lighting up, for all the world like he'd tugged her pigtails on the playground and gotten a reaction out of her. "Wasn't that rather the point, I thought?" He's grinning like a cat that got into the cream. Oh /dear/.     But then he points at Terry. "That's an excellent idea! My own gods are speaking, through me. The Asgardians have been... informed." Through Jane Foster, but that might be privileged information. "You lot are the ones to speak to the Greeks, yes."     He takes another sip of tea, then, to steady himself. Regards Donna quietly. "...May I ask why? If it's sensitive information I can assure you that we're both quite able to keep secrets. If you cannot tell me... then I can trust you, Donna, but it may be good to know why."
Donna Troy	"Because I wouldn't want to raise the specter of mutually assured destruction unless I was fairly sure that singularly assured destruction was the only alternative," Donna replies to Jon. Then she sips her tea in a rather pointed fashion that implies she's probably not going to expand on that point at this time. If ever.     Donna turns her eyes to Terry, and draws in a deep breath and exhales slowly. "I... don't know Terry," she says dubiously. As for Eris..." she gestures with one arm, a wide, expansive gesture that seems to encompass all about her. "Have you noticed what has been happening in Metropolis lately? All things considered, there's a real possibility she feels she has already got her revenge. And... I'm not... I'm reluctant to consult the oracle. I mean it's not like they won't already know what's happening. If they wanted to send a message, they could."     She tilts her head in Jon's direction. "Tell him what you told me. About the message you received from Neith."
Terry O'Neil	"Fine, then... why don't we talk to Hawk? I am not a Lord of Chaos, but he is plugged into one too, right? Why aren't the Lords of Chaos getting involved yet? An Angel Reboot is a victory for the Lords of Order. In fact, if all free will is eliminated, that's /it/ for chaos. And the creation of a universe that is even more boring than the director's cut of The English Patient. It'll be..." He glances at Jon and Cael, "Like being in a movie theater strapped to the chair, being forced to watch A Room With A View while Elgar plays in the background and all the concessions are Paleo-friendly pieces of dried stuff that stick to your teeth and you're only allowed water. What kind of universe is /that/? No. Donna. We should at least talk to the gods. And to Hawk. And just about every single person in existence who would have a very big Excuse Me with this."
Cael Becker	"Believe me, I know exactly what it would be like without freewill," Cael answers quietly, while still glaring at Jon. "And it's... well. It's somehow simultaneously something I want more than anything else, and fear more than anything else. It's a challenge having both exist in my mind at once, but honestly, I think it's just testament to how alluring it is once it's got hooks in you. That's how //bad// it is. It's addictive."     She says all this with her eyes fixed on Jon, and his grin - but finally she rolls her eyes, and quirks him a small smile before looking down at Bear. "It's okay if you chew on Jon's shoes. Okay Bear? You have my permission. That's right. You're a good dog."     Which Cael's attention directed down towars him, Bear's tail is thumping away happily, as he nuzzles at one of her hands.
Jonathan Sims	"I have more information now," Jon responds to Donna's statement quietly. "There is a piece of this I hadn't yet relayed, I realize. Our universe, it is... leeching other universes of their energy. Destroying them. It's terribly out of balance, for some reason. Long ago, near the start of Creation, Gaea asked that rather than the universe being remade entirely, mortals be given a choice to bring it into balance ourselves. The Archangel Uriel proposed the game, and Gaea reluctantly agreed. If Michael wins, the universe is re-made to be more 'stable'... which I assume means less free will. If we win, things are brought into balance and we can go on living."     He sighs. "I am evidently Gaea's chosen champion in this... 'game' we're playing. Caitlin is Michael's. We'll be talking to Her soon, to get more information... but I expect that it will be much the same as it's been. She's playing the game but She's not happy about it. She has faith in us. I don't know what the other gods think, nor the Lords of Chaos nor Order. But I think..."     He frowns. "I think, to some degree... this is on us. This is /about/ us. Stepping up, and... proving ourselves. Proving our worth. I keep trying to figure out why she chose /me/--or rather, why I was able to step up into the role. I serve balance, I serve truth, I believe in free will... I view an archangel as much the same as a mortal, in terms of respect and worth. They may have far more power, but that doesn't make them /right/. And I believe in people. I believe in us." He shrugs. "I encourage people to gather information, to figure out how we might fix this problem. I would never do otherwise. But I rather expect we'll find that the Lords of Chaos have placed some mortal champion in the way to be of aid, just as the gods of Egypt have placed me where they have."     Too serious to do more than flash Cael a tired smile at the banter.
Terry O'Neil	"Then I suggest we fuck with the game," Vorpal says. Because Caitlin is not here to shake the swear jar at him. He turns to Donna, "Donna. Caitlin is an Amazon. I was there, we all were, when your mother called her 'daughter'. She is a chosen of Athena. I say- I say that we talk to Athena, ask her for a relic, a token, anything that might /potentially/ help Caitlin remember. Remember /who/ was it that loved her, opened their arms to her, accepted her as her own. It certainly wasn't the angels." "If this is a game to them, then we play Cards Against Humanity against the."
Donna Troy	"Why Terry, in case they haven't heard?" Donna says, an edge in her voice he knows her well enough to detect, but the rest probably don't. "They /know/. If they're going to do something about it, why would we waste their time asking them to hold our hands? And if they wanted to tell us something, they're not going to just wait around hoping we give them a call. If Hermes comes knocking at the Tower door, I will listen to every word he says with rapt attention. Otherwise I see no reason to bother the them.     She gestures a hand wearily in Jon's direction. "There. Where Gaia goes, the gods will follow. I'm sure that they are doing what they see fit to do, and no more. They may not be allowed to enter directly into the 'game', as Jon puts it. I suspect that this is something /mortals/ are meant to resolve. We probably don't want to rock the boat too much or we may lose the help of Diana and Thor in this. I mean I'm probably not technically... you know."
Cael Becker	"I'm not sure you really get it, Vorpal," Cael remarks quietly. "If Michael's been in her head, then... believe me. She feels more strongly than you can imagine that she's been loved, and accepted with open arms. That... that sensation of love, and acceptance, was powerful."     She takes a sip of her tea before she adds, "I've never been a very religious person, but the way I see things - there's nothing to stop you //consulting// with your Gods, whoever they may be. But that - yeah. This is supposed to be our fight. ...so we fight." Afte another sip she adds, "Though - I was visited by a second angel. One who- well. Was much kinder, and more reasonable. It advised me that I should be listening to Jon more." She nods towards the man. "And unless Jon's turned on a dime while I wasn't paying attention... The real solution will have nothing to do with fighting, and possibly a lot to do with love, and sacrifice."
Jonathan Sims	Jon frowns thoughtfully. "I talked to Ma'at recently. I..." He clears his throat. Glances to Cael, then says, "I had reason to discover the state of my heart." He makes a face. Evidently it wasn't great. "She implied as much, though, about... where Gaea goes, the gods follow.."     He glances at Terry. "Fucking with the game, though? That sounds like a plan. Actually, I... we should talk," he says suddenly. "Not here. Somewhere else. I'd buy you a pint but America's so... backwards about drinking laws." He waves a hand. "I'm sure we'll figure it out."     A sigh, and a nod. "Some of the fighting we cannot avoid, evidently." He doesn't sound happy about that. "But... I think that's a holding action. I think fighting is /Michael's/ play, /his/ way to win. I think we have to figure out something else. But trying to get through to Ms. Fairchild... it's not a worthless endeavor. Reminding her of love and friendship. It's helped you recover from what Michael did. It may yet help her. I trust that her friends will figure this out."     He looks to Donna, then adds, somberly, "And if nothing else... I'll contact you. Whatever last, desperate ploy you have..." He swallows. Does he trust the Amazon? Perhaps because she /is/ an Amazon. So, "If it comes to it. If we're out of options. I will contact you."
Terry O'Neil	"Oh, to hell with the gods," Vorpal hisses in total exasperation. "They fuck with our lives, they take away our choices and our free will, and then we're expected to honor them, but they won't interfere when one of them decides to go power-hungry control freak? Futterwack the lot of them. We don't have gods in Wonderland, and we are much better off without them." He stands up. He is clearly in a mood, but relents briefly at Jon "... yeah, go ahead and call me, we'll talk. But right now I need to go and let off steam. I'm expected at The Planet in an hour and in the meantime, I think I'm going to go and draw an enormous penis on the Saint Michael statue at Castel Sant'Angelo. I am feeling benevolent and might just /not/ use permanent marker." He narrows his eyes. "And then, after work, I might stop to see Caitlin. In my human form."
Donna Troy	Donna puffs out her cheeks. "Terry?" she calls out. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be curt with you. You know how much I value your ideas and your thoughts. I just... I haven't been sleeping well lately, is all. I just... it doesn't feel right to me, that's all. I don't think /they/ are happy with the situation either. That's what Jon says, and... it feels right. But they're stuck with it. And if they can't interfere directly, I suspect we may have more to lose than to gain from asking them to. That's all."     It's probably not all.     "Look... there's an evacuation to manage. That will cause problems. We've got the Enochian to look into, and consider the possibility of weaponizing it in some way. We've got to figure out some kind of ward against the angelic influence to keep Terry from tripping balls, and if we find that we should look into other ways of using it. " Donna's back to strategizing, this is a bit more normal for her. "And in fact what happens to Terry might also be a weapon. If these are creatures of such pure order, they will be vulnerable to chaos in some way too, just as a creature of chaos such as the Cheshire Cat that is inside Terry is vulnerable to order. Maybe there's a way we can figure out to make the /angels/ trip balls instead. We translate Alice in Wonderland into Enochian and blast it out at them 24/7 or something. Take my word for it, when Terry is high on Angel Juice he's too busy making friends with the ceiling to bother fighting anyone."     "As for Caitlin..." another frown. "I'll talk to her and see what she makes of the recordings we gathered. I mean surely hearing Michael actually talk about /invading/ has to make her at least start thinking about it. My only worry is that she might... it might be she sees anyone arguing against her beliefs as inherently likely to have been deceived, and therefore find it easily to come to an accommodation with anything that we tell her."
Cael Becker	"Like I said - when I talked to her, she said either I was being deceived - that it wasn't Michael that tortured me. Or that I deserved my fate - so yeah. There's every chance she'll claim you've been deceived and mislead." Cael lets out a sigh, then looks between Jon, and Donna, a frown pulling on her featues. This is something she doesn't even what to consider, but- "...do you think there's a benefit to me continuing to try to... befriend her?" she asks Jon. This is very much //not// in her usual skill set! "Or should we just leave that up to her current friends?"     There's no question which answer she'd rather.     Then, with a frown she adds, "Why did you ask your Gods to weight your heart?"
Jonathan Sims	Jon nods quietly to Donna. "From what Becker tells me, she may be particularly susceptible to the backfire effect. But evidence against her beliefs will help get her out, in time. And who knows... maybe her friends can get through to her. But... she also thinks I'm a nutter and potentially possessed by the Devil, so just... fair warning."     He looks to Terry and nods. "I don't blame you. It's been tempting. I yelled in the middle of St. Patrick's instead." He shakes his head. "Didn't help much, really. But blew off some steam."     And finally, to Cael, quietly, "I didn't ask them to. They had a chance to show me that I needed to shape up, is all. I'm grateful, actually." A shrug. Maybe he doesn't want to get into it in front of relative strangers.
Terry O'Neil	Terry stops, and nods at Donna. "No. I get it. I'm still pissed, though. Not at you. Just at everyone." He pauses and glances at Cael and Jon. "Not at you, either. This... stuff is a major trigger for me. I can't stand injustice. I want to punch something, anything angel-shaped at this point. Except my boyfriend. One of my boyfriends. It's complicated." He exhales and rubs his face. "Yeah. Let's plan. But right now, I'm going to go off and draw a penis on Saint Michael, go to the Planet to figure out what to tell Lois about all this... because trust me, by now she knows I know something. That woman is like a bloodhound."
Donna Troy	"Cael," Donna begins slowly, picking her words carefully. "If you want to befriend Caitlin, then by all means do -- if you succeed, you'll never find a truer friend. But if so, do it because she's a good person and a good friend to have, not because you're... trying to get through to her."     She glances in Jon's direction. "Look, I know this is stressful, and that everyone means well, and that Caitlin's actions are making people very nervous. And I acknowledge that everyone is recognizing she isn't the enemy here and she's very much the victim. But there is a difference between acknowledging it and really /feeling/ it. And it seems to me that a lot of people are seeing Caitlin as a... a problem to solve. I understand that, but... Cait... Caitlin has been my friend longer than anyone. She is the first friend I have. I probably know her better than anyone, and if you want my opinion, the reason Michael picked her is exactly because she is... she is the purest, most loving, honest and just simply... good... person I know. And Wonder Woman is my /sister/. Think about that a while, please."     Donna draws in a deep breath and sighs softly. She looks up at Terry, and gives him a nod. "Sure thing Terry, see you later. Oh... and I have a suggestion."     "Make sure you draw a really /small/ one."
Cael Becker	Cael nods to Jon, and flashes Terry a brief, amused smile. "Believe me - I'm there with you. Punching somethings sounds like a great idea - but apparently that's not how we ultimately win things. Which... ugh." She rolls her eyes, then turns her attention on to Donna.     There's a few moments of silence before she speaks. "That's... I mean, that's fair. She's your friend. You don't want her to be... used, or manipulated. But is that really how you feel if it's to save her? And all of reality?" She lets out a tired sigh. "I don't make friends often, or easily. There are three living people I consider my friend. I'm honestly not looking for more - but if talking to her, spending time with her, listening to her... if somehow, that gets through to her, and helps us set all of this right and save us all? Do you honestly think she'd have a problem with that?"
Jonathan Sims	Jon nods gravely at Donna. "If I'm being honest? I see a lot of myself in Ms. Fairchild. I have been where she is, or... where I believe she may be. Someone offered a hand to me to get me out. I am beholden to do the same. It... angers me that Michael would use a good person for whatever he's doing. If I'm even right. If /she/ isn't right. But if I'm right? Then your friend is in a cult, and I know what it takes to get out of one."     He sighs. "I think we should be going, Cael. I'll get in touch with you about the Enochian translation, Donna. And... thank you, for listening." A pause. "But do listen to your friend. Truly listen to her. I know that if she's in the situation I think she is, good friends will be what she needs most."
Donna Troy	Donna raises her hand to Cael, fingers spread out in a stop gesture. "N.. no, you misunderstand me. I'm not explaining clearly enough. She would approve. I think /you/ would have a problem with it."     She gives a sharp shake of her head. "I'm sorry, I'm not explaining myself well. What I'm trying to say is... I'm not saying 'don't try to save the universe, it would hurt her feelings', she'd hardly object to that. She would happily give anything to save people. If you killed her, and in that her moment she knew that you had saved the universe by doing so, she would thank you. What I'm trying to say is... it /feels/ wrong. "     Her brow creases. She pauses, then starts again, speaking slowly. "I think what I'm trying to say is to do with motivations. If we /think/ this way, think about it as a battle to win, we've already lost. That's what we're fighting against. And if you befriended Caitlin not because it served any greater purpose but because those friendships are... they're what we're fighting for. Don't you see? Without free will, there's no evil, but there's no good, either. There's no Caitlin. We value our friends because of /who they are/ not because of what they can do for us. That's... that's what is at stake here."     She leans back, wincing slightly, and gives a shake of her head. "It's... I just feel like that, I don't know. I'm not making sense. Sorry, as I said I haven't been sleeping great. So.. Cael, thank you for telling us your story. And if you're uh... group. The FBI right? If you agree to share with us any information you can glean from it, I'd be happy to give you a copy of all the data we gathered from our trip to examine the Intruder. And if there's anything else the Titans can help with, please don't hesitate to speak to us."     She turns to nod her head at Jonathan. "Likewise, when our science team has finished analyzing all the data, I'll send you the results. Who knows if there's anything useful, but we need to follow any possible trail that might lead to any small advantage we can win."
Cael Becker	"I hear what you're saying. I get it, I just..." Cael sighs, and shakes her head. "Nothing," she murmurs quietly. "It's nothing." Because what good is there in sharing the sense of helplessness she still struggles against? Her inability to find anything more useful to do than being there for Jon?     But maybe that should be enough.     "Well. I've been trying to figure out if there's a pattern in the increases in incidents in Manhattan - using data from EMS, the police, and the fire stations to see if there... any useable pattern there. I've got nothing so far - but I can send you the data I collected if you like. Maybe someone else can make sense of it." She sets aside her half-drunk cup of tea, and after scritching at her dog's head one more time she remarks, "Com'on, Bear. Jon's right. We should go." As she climbs to her feet, the pup runs halfway to Jon, wagging his tail happily, then turns around and goes back to his person, turning full circle so he can pick up his own leash and offer it to Cael, getting a quiet laugh from his owner.     "Good boy," she murmurs, before turning her attention back to Donna. "Thanks for having us. We'll... somehow we'll find the way through all of this."
Jonathan Sims	Jon regards Donna quietly for a moment. "I think you may be right," he says quietly. "Thank you, for... your wisdom." He smiles. "I do believe in us. I really do. And... I'd like to be friends. Perhaps... perhaps I should try to talk to Caitlin again. Just..." To offer the friendship of a man she's convinced is evil? Well. He shrugs. "To get to know her. If she'll let me."     He sighs, and shakes his head. "Thank you for your hospitality," he says, setting down his entirely-drunk cup of tea. Look, the man doesn't waste tea. "We'll keep in touch. And... well, it goes without saying that you should try to sleep better, if you can."