10238/Path of Glory: The Road to Duat

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Path of Glory: The Road to Duat
Date of Scene: 22 February 2022
Location: Memorial and Meeting Rooms - Titan's Tower
Synopsis: No description
Cast of Characters: Caitlin Fairchild, Cael Becker




Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
The angels have withdrawn, leaving a great deal of death and destruction in their wake. Two notable deaths among them: Jon Sims, and Hope Svelgate, better known as the half-demon Lady Death. It had been a hard loss to weather, and despite her distance from them as friends Caitlin Fairchild clearly feels some measure of guilt for their passing.

It takes her some time to reply to Cael Becker's request for a meeting, but eventually she surrenders to guilt. After all, she'd put Cael through no small amount of grief over the last month.

And Cael was important to Jon.

This time she'd been invited into the Titan Tower, whisked upstairs in an elevator. When she debarks, Caitlin's waiting for her. She wears a somber, even severe calf-length grey dress with a rolling yoke and long sleeves. Sensible, low-heeled leather cavalry boots look like they provide good traction in the rain.

"Hi, Cael. This way, please," she invites, and gestures to the large table. The computers are shut down, save for a slowly rotating holograph of the Titan's stylized T hovering over it. She waits for Cael to pick a seat before accepting the adjacent one, settling her weight into it carefully. "Thanks for coming to the Tower. I'm still not, um... I'm not going into the city, if I can help it," she admits.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael glances around the room, a slump to her shoulder and heavy bags under her eyes. She looks exhausted - though whether that was simply from the emotional turmoil, or because she simply hasn't slept it a little hard to tell. She's changed from her SHIELD tactical gear into her usual attire - jeans, with a sweater against the winter's chill, topped off with her leather jacket. For the moment, her hands are shoved into the jacket's pocket out of sight.
    "I, uhhh... I appreciate you seeing me again," she says in a dull voice. When she pulls out a chair to sit, the hand she sets on it is red and blistered - clearly burned, though she doesn't seem to pay much attention to the injury as she sits.
    "I can't really blame you, the city's a mess. I- I don't really know what I'm looking for, here, I just- You were with him. And... I couldn't get to him..." She closes her eyes, setting her jaw as she struggles to hold back the grief and fear that still felt to fresh and overwhelming.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin's retreated into formality even in how she dresses. Hair pulled back into a tight bun, minimal makeup. No jewelry to speak of. In fact she looks like she'd be on her way to Sunday school.

Come to think of it, it's Sunday morning, and Caitlin's not at church...

She doesn't miss the injury to Cael's hands, and when the woman sits, Caitlin opens her own fingers to expose her palms. Pink, newly-formed flesh is growing out from under a few heat blisters from where she'd grabbed Jophiel's sword. The long sleeves ride back just enough to reveal bandages wrapped over much more significant wounds that are out of sight yet.

"I wish I could say something helpful," Caitlin admits, quietly. "Grief counseling's not something I was ever real good at. Donna, and Nightwing, they're the--" she gestures limply. "They're good at talking to people. All I did was catch him. Michael had me dead to rights, and Aud-- Audade? I guess... I don't know. Jon mentioned what it was, but I never really understood it. He fell on Michael's sword, and that was it. He broken Michael's authority, or his permissions, or..." Caitlin falls quiet with a limp shrug. "I don't think he was in any pain, if... if that helps."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "It does," Cael answers quietly - and try as she might to keep back the tears, she can't. They flow down her cheeks as she struggles to at least control her breathing, both of her hands dropping into her lap where she squeezes them tightly. The pain of the healing burns helps her avoid falling completely into hysterics, as it gives her something to focus on as she exerts some degree of control.
    "Did he... seem afraid? I- I couldn't get to either of you. Uriel wouldn't let me. He- He was determined that Jon die, that I not interfer."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin impulsively reaches over and puts a hand on Cael's forearm, careful not to apply pressure to any hidden wounds. "It's okay, it's-- it's really okay," she whispers. "Hang on, I'll get you some tissues." She rises and steps over to some cabinets built into the wall, retrieving a box of tissues. There's a water dispenser nearby; she fills a paper cup with cold, fresh water, and brings both items over to the detective.

Once Cael's got them in hand, Caitlin sits again, smoothing out her dress carefully. "No. He ... he didn't even seem to be in pain. He was trying to tell me something, he-- he handed me a little vial. With a leaf rolled in it. Said 'take this to .. Do It? Due-At?" she hazards. "I wanted to ask someone about that, but ..." she trails off and gestures lamely. "Didn't seem like the right time."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael flinches at the touch - but doesn't pull out from underneath it, as her gaze stays fixed down on the table in front of her. "It- it isn't alright. None of this shit is alright," she says flat. "I was supposed to be okay with this, I was- I was supposed to let go, to let him..." Her right hand fiddles with a leather cuff on her left wrist decorated with cut-outs that make butterfly shapes, painted in blue, teal, and gold. "How the fuck can anyone actually do that, though? God I hate Uriel..."
    She finally lifts her gaze back towards Caitlin, blinking back tears as she says automatically, "Duat. He gave you a leaf to- He... he tried to give it to Gaea, before he turned himself over to Michael, but she- she made him keep it. Do you have it?"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Yeah," Caitlin nods. She lifts a hand. "It's safe, I promise," she reassures Cael. "He ... it was important, to him. I could see it in his face. I don't understand why," she admits, "but I know I was only there for the last bit of his story. I don't know a lot about Egyptian theology. I could probably ask Diana--" Caitlin hesitates, breaking off. "I could ask /Donna/," she amends, carefully. "She would know more about it than me. Maybe it's some religious observation? Like something about feathers and scales... I don't know," she admits again. "But I could ask, if no one else knows."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I don't know very much about it, either," Cael admits. "Just the bits Jon's told me, for the most part. I never really- I never gave much thought to Gods, or religion, I just... I assumed it was all bullshit." And it's strange to her still, to have to be taking all of this so seriously.
    Her gaze drops to the leather cuff bracelet she wears, wishing desperately it felt comforting like Jon had meant - instead of like a reminder of her own failure. Pulling her gaze away again she asks, "You don't have the leaf right now, though?"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"On me? No," Caitlin tells Cael, and shakes her head apologetically. "Didn't think to bring it."

She shifts, looking down at her fingertips in her lap, then back at Cael. "I don't think... I don't know what to think, anymore," Caitlin admits. "It's all so unreal. I was standing next to angels. Jon met Gaia-- met /literally/ the mother of creation, according to the Theoi. I don't even know where to begin. What to think. Was that God speaking to Michael, at the end there? Why didn't He step in earlier? What is Gaia, that she can stand up to Michael?"

The questions come with no obvious answers. "I used to think life was confusing when I met Thor. He doesn't act like a god. But he's one of them, like Athena. Right? Or Bast, or the others. I think... I think we don't know anything about *anything*, to be honest," she admits.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I don't think she can. I don't think anyone can stand up to Michael - except for God. So... yes. That's what the voice was, if- ...if you can call that a voice. Michael only agreed to 'the game' because he wanted a challenge. And because his 'brother' convinced him." Because Uriel convinced him. Everything they've been through...
    She lets out a sound that's half laugh, and half sob before she adds, "We probably- we wouldn't be here right now if Uriel hadn't- Everything would already be reset, but I have a hard time being grateful to him for the //hell// I've been through since this all-" But wasn't it worth it? If her suffering saves //everyone else// in the universe? Isn't her pain, and Jon's, and Martin's, and Agnes'- ...worth it?
    "I can't feel grateful to him for his. I hate him. I hate Uriel just as much as Michael." She finally reaches for the tissues, dabbing desperately at her eyes.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin sits quietly, gaze shifted off to an awkward middle distance. "I'd offer some ... Bible quote about hate and forgiveness, but I'm not feeling real charitable myself lately, either," she admits in a low voice. "Michael played me hard. I bought into all of it, like an idiot. I was so blind to it I excused all the horrible things he did. When he talked, it--" she grasps at the air as if trying to catch some ephermal concept. "It was like the whole universe was telling you secrets. And he smiled at me, and I felt warm and happy, and... delirious. I wanted to make him proud, more than anything else."

Her brow clouds. "They put Father Pat upstate in a rectory. They said it was for his safety, but I guess he was putting things together. He was gonna come talk to me. Talk me out of it. I'd have listened to him, if... Him and Donna, I would have reconsidered. Michael told the Cardinal to move Patrick out. Told them to keep away visitors so they could excuse telling Donna to get lost."

She shakes her head, slowly. "I was so stupid."

Cael Becker has posed:
    As Caitlin talks of how being around Michael made her feel, Cael's posture stiffens, and her hands clench tightly in her lap, painful with the burns that still cover them. Her breath catches in her throat - and it takes her a few tries to get her breathing back to a more natural rhythm. Only then does she speak.
    "I told you- I tried to tell you, what- what Michael was like. What he did to me. How he- he made me feel when he got into my head. I wanted- I wanted so badly to please him. To- to do anything he asked. To be worthy of his-" A shudder runs through her, and she shakes her head.
    "Jon kept saying how- That Michael was only trying to fulfill what he thought God wanted. That he's only a confused, lonely child. I have a hard time seeing him - and Uriel, now - as anything other than evil."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"I know you did, and I didn't want to listen," Caitlin says apologetically. "If I had, if I hadn't been so quick to--" She breaks off and shakes her head, a haunted look crossing her features.

"I don't understand any of it," she admits. "I still don't think I really get it. Michael talked about ... about fixing the 'great mistake', about helping people, and in the moment it all made sense."

"But all the death and destruction, seeing who he hurt-- how--" she exhales. "None of it makes sense. None of it justifies -any- of this."

She exhales. "Anyway, I... I don't really know what to do next. I need to find out how to ... bring the leaf to Duat, I guess. I don't know what that means, if there's some ritual or something." She blinks as a thought occurs to her. "You don't... you don't think he meant /literally/, bring it to Duat? Like in person?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "...yes," Cael answers, desperately trying to run back in her mind what she did and didn't explain to Caitlin when she spoke to her last. "Did I not- I meant to explain. Jon dies- ...died, so... So we have to go get him back. Me, you, Lydia, Phoebe, and-" Her breath catches in her throat. "Lady Death was supposed to go too, but-" She tightens her hands again, still using the pain to help herself focus and exert control.
    "Lydia knows a, ummm... a ritual. We have to eat a live scarab beetle, I don't know what else is involved... And then we'll be transported to Duat. We'll face something like... I think it was between three and seven challenges. And then we'll reach, umm... where Jon's heart will be weighed against the feather of Ma'at. And- and somehow we're supposed to fix what's wrong with reality when we're there. And then... come back to the physical world. Jon said he'd know how to fix things once- once we're all there."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Lydia mentioned that, or ... something like that," Caitlin says. An alert undertone highlights her words. "Right? But that was when we thought Jon was kidnapped, not... um... d-e-a-d," she adds carefully.

"Do you-- is this really gonna work?" she wonders, aloud. "Resurrection isn't something that the Church teaches. I mean, aside from one notable example," she amends. "But I know the pagan gods, they've got some connection with Gaia. It's different for them. Maybe-- maybe Jon's close enough to Ma'at, and to the others, that they can make some exception for him."

"But if there's any chance at all we can bring him back... I'm taking it," she reassures Cael.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Dead. You can say dead. Jon's dead," Cael says in a flat voice, though the question about if they can bring him back or not causes a pained look to cross her features, as she squeezes her eyes shut and lowers her head.
    "Everyone keeps telling me... it'll be fine. That- of course it'll succeed. That it's fated, it's destiny. He's- he's supposed to become Ma'at's //avatar// after this, whatever that really means. Everyone seems to believe that I- we... cannot possibly fail. But- but Lady Death was supposed to travel with us, and she's gone now, so- I don't know. I don't know. Maybe I fucked everything up, because I couldn't- I couldn't just- I was so fucused on what was- was happening to Jon, that I-"
    She shakes her head helplessly, the tears falling faster, and her breathing growing more unsteady. "I don't know what's going to happen..."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin slides the tissue box awkwardly over to Cael. "I'm sorry," she says, automatically. "I don't know. I can't even guess. If there's a plan, it's way above our pay grade," she confesses. "I can talk to Raven, she knows a lot about this stuff. Maybe Thor, too. It might not even be the first time this sort of thing has happened."

She puts a little steel in her spine and straightens slumping shoulders. "Look, whatever might happen is irrelevant. Jon asked us to do this thing. So-- cowgirl up, and let's get it done," she says with a firm voice. "All we can do is what we can do, and if we do our best, things will work out the way they ought to."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "There's a plan," Cael confirms. "I just- I don't understand it." And she doubts she ever will. For all that Jon and Lydia tried to reassure her, tried to help her understand... "I- I jus- ...I hope I haven't fucked it up already." Can they succeed without Lady Death? What roll was she supposed to play?
    She reaches for the tissues again, awkwardly dabbing at her eyes, and hating that she was being such a mess.
    "I'll get it done," she promises quietly. "I'll try. I just-" She feels so scared. And alone.
    "...is the leaf here? Somewhere? I just- I want to hold it. Please."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"..Yeah," Caitlin says, finally. "Give me a minute?" she requests, rising. "It's locked up and I need to dig it out."

She leaves Cael alone in the conference room and enters the Titan's tower elevator. She's not gone long, maybe ten minutes, and returns with a shock-proof clamshell in hand. It's set down on the table in front of Cael and opened, revealing electronic and magical countermeasures against theft both inside and out. The sole contents of the container are the vial with the leaf rolled inside, carefully suspended between durable packing foam layers.

Cael Becker has posed:
    The time is a blessing - allowing Cael a few minutes to cry, followed by several minutes of regaining her composure. There's a small pile of tissues piled up from wiping her eyes, and nose - and the blisters on her palm that she'd managed to burst.
    As Caitlin returns with the vial, she's reassured to see how seriously the woman is taking her charge, as she reaches out almost hesitantly to touch the vial - and then to lift it - holding it cupped in both hands in her lap. "Jon..." she breathes quietly. The last thing he did was give the leaf to Caitlin. While run through with a sword - he made the effort to take out the leaf, and give it to her.
    "Can you hear me?" she asks softly, a few tears sneaking down her cheeks again. "We're coming. I... I love you."
    She then lifts her hands and the vial towards her face, resting them gently against her lips at her tears continue to fall.
    She'd just managed to //stop// crying. Damnit.
    "Fuck this is hard," she mutters, letting out a breathy, humorless laugh.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Yeah, I... I know how it feels," Caitlin admits quietly. There's real empathy in her voice, the heartbreaking loss that accompanies feeling a loved one. Her eyes dart towards the memorial wall in the adjoining room, the bronze sculptures just out of line of sight inside.

"I'm gonna give you a few minutes," she tells Cael. "I ... I don't know which of us should have the vial. If you feel like it'd be safer with you, take it," she suggests. "But I can keep it secure here in the tower until it's needed. Our vault is one of the most secure locations on Earth," she promises. "And the Titans won't let anything happen to Jon's ... legacy."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "He gave it to you," Cael answers quietly, as she shifts from holding the vial near her lips, and instead, clutches it to her heart. "I- I don't know if that matters. It might. He- he knew what was coming. He could have given me the leaf before the battle. ...he gave it to you." So as much as she //wants// to keep it near her... she worries it would be wrong to do so. And perhaps even dangerous.
    She holds the vial to her chest a while longer, then with painful hesitancy forces her hands away from her chest - forces herself to set the vial back into the container. Before she seals it, though, she reaches into the lower layers of her hair, pulling free a few colorful strands, and tucking them into place beside the vial, before sealing it up, and pushing the case back towards Caitlin.
    "Thank you," she says sincerely - with a weight to it that implies she means more than for simply bringing her the vial.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin ducks her head with a grateful (if apologetic) nod at the gratitude, and carefully takes the container in both her hands with a certain reverence for the contents. "Yeah, it... well. It's the least I can do," she says, with a ghost of a smile.

"I'll talk to Raven and Thor. You talk to Lydia. When we're... I don't know. When we're ready, we can do it. I think we should use the facilities here," she suggests. "Raven's got a lot of experience with the astral projection stuff. I can't think of anyone better to be keeping an eye on us."

She gestures with her head towards the elevator. "C'mon. I'll see you out."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Lydia might have her own idea on locations. I, umm... need to talk to her about Lady Death, anyways." It takes Cael a moment, but she manages to force herself back to her feet, wiping her eyes again on the back of her hand, before shoving them back into her pockets.
    She's silent and solemn the rest of the walk - her gaze trained solidly on the ground. Once they're outside she adds a final, "Thank again. I, uhh... I guess I'll be seeing you again soon," she remarks, before turning to walk off.