15825/Titans 3023:The Fate of Worlds

Titans 3023:The Fate of Worlds
Date of Scene:	10 September 2023
Location:	Earth orbit, The Tower of Fate, Azerath, and back to orbit.
Synopsis:	The Titans of 3023 continue to gather - this time it's Raven's turn to be recruited, and everyone is studiously polite to everyone else, unless they're innocent bystanders.
Cast of Characters:	Donna Troy, Caitlin Fairchild, Rachel Roth, Jinx

---

Donna Troy has posed:
    Concepts such as 'fortuitous' are a tangled topic in the presence of Lucky, formerly Jinx. The chance meeting in deep space of the very person Caitlin and Troia were looking for was certainly one more example of the improbably helpful events that have tended to occur in Lucky's presence this last millennium, and perhaps the only meaningful way to consider the matter is that chance is often not blind. The Travel sphere arrives in Earth orbit only a few hours later than had been anticipated, but with with first of the people Caitlin and Troia had set out to locate there already on board. Asleep.

    The thousand years have not been as kind to Lucky as they have to Caitlin and Troia. Of course the mere fact that Lucky is still alive at all is highly magical, but she has not retained the youthful vigor Caitlin and Troia's immortality has provided them. After the excitement of meeting her old friends, Lucky is taking a nap.

    By the year 3023 space ships do not generally arrive in orbit around the capital of the United Planets, but then it's rare for space ships to be just a few inches in diameter. The mortals are catching up, but the ancient sorcerery-science of the Titans of Myth still has its advantages and the travel sphere arrives unheralded, ungreeted and unregarded. Where Caitlin and Troia stand, on something that might at this moment in time reasonably be considered the bridge of the ship, a great window opens up in the interior of the ship, showing the jewel-like colors of Earth below. The ship passes above the east Atlantic as it slips into a high orbit, and the terminator draws a line across the Mediterranean. In the night-time half a spray of lights mark European cities, and Troia's eyes are drawn towards the dark of the Aegean near the eastern horizon. There are no lights to be seen where she is looking, by mortal eyes at least.

    "So, you got some contact in the League you can ask I guess?" Troia says to Caitlin. The Justice League, of course. No longer a team with a dozen or so members, the Justice League has long since become more of a clearing house for the many separate metahuman ventures around the planet and beyond. "It's been a few hundred years, I'm not sure who to contact, but unless things have changed more than I know they should be able to put us in contact with whoever the current Doctor Fate is."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Are you kidding me? I'm in the Christmas photo." Caitlin snorts at Donna's question. "Her name's Zvende. She tends to be pretty aloof, but I can contact her. It'll just take some time for a call to get through."

Caitlin touches her left bracer and produces an intangible floating orb that hovers a few inches above the bronze-colored metal. It expands under a flickering of her fingers and she starts making numberal small adjustments to it. The shimmering construct pulses softly and changes from a pale blue to a burnished orange, and mystical symbols replace the datalines in the shifting geometric structure.

It wavers, pulses once, and holds at a brighter level. Caitlin hesitates, then brings it closer to her face. "Zee? Hey, it's Caitlin Fairchild," the redhead says. "I know you're busy, but pick up. It's about that temporal displacement situation in New York."

The sphere flickers and resolves into a floating three-dimensional image of a woman's face. The colors aren't quite right but it's hard to miss the contrast of pink Kree skin against raven-black hair and eyes the color of old glacial ice.

"Caitlin? I thought you were on the other side of the galaxy," she says with a heavy Andromedan accent. "Did you find her?"

Caitlin glances at Donna, then nods at the magicienne. "Yeah, I did. Here, I'll patch us through." She collapses the image with a pinch of her fingers and tosses it away from her. When the mote of light hits the ground it pops up, a three-dimensional rendering of Zvende's surroundings projecting into Donna's timeship.

"Zvende Zatara... Don..." She sighs. "/Troia/," she amends.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Zatara," Troia replies, smirking slightly as she gives a nod of acknowledgement in the direction of this latest Doctor Fate. "I see Earth is keeping it in the family still when it comes to magic. I knew your... some significant number of greats needed before the word grandmother... I guess. Zatanna was the first Zatara I met. Though I guess from your appearance that as much as the Clan Zatara seems to protect its traditions, it hasn't been shy of looking further afield when it comes to finding partners in love."

    Troia momentarily regrets the words, not for any risk of having been tactless so much as the awkward segue she has unintentionally created. She glances around a moment before turning back to the projection. "Don't ask about where we are," she says for the sake of changing the subject. "It's too complicated to explain, but we're in orbit. And we need your help to locate someone. Well... pass a message on, anyway. Caitlin will explain the situation."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Zvende just... stares at Donna for a few beats, as if trying to find the funny side of her observation. She looks at Caitlin, who is pinching her brow in consternation and can only shrug helplessly at the sorceress.

"She's... old," Caitlin explains, finally. "Don't take it personally."

"No, it's fine. I get it from my Kree relatives, why shouldn't Earthers point out the obvious, too?" Zvende's voice is fairly dripping with sarcasm.

"Listen Zee, I don't want to shortchange you here, but we kinda need to speak to..." Caitlin grimaces. "/Her/. She's probably already aware that we're here, but I wanted to ask nicely. Think you can do the summoning shuffle?" she requests, hopefully.

Zvende grimaces. "... yeah," she says, finally. "But you owe me one. I want baked goods. /Pie/," she says, and points a finger at Caitlin menacingly. "With real fruit."

"What am I, made of money?" Caitlin grumbles-- but relents and nods.

Zvende turns around and makes a mystical gesture at the wall behind her. It opens to reveal a plain, slightly tattered cape and cowl of midnight blue. Back turned, she shrugs into the garment, and pulls the hood down low over her forehead...

Rachel Roth has posed:
    Somewhere, out in the darkness between dimensions, looms a great tower. At the very nexus of all realities, sits a man. Tall, even in the throne that rests at the heart of the Tower of Fate. Like a statue, he is unmoving. Then, after a moment, the eyes of his gleaming, golden helmet erupt with light.

    In that next moment, what was a video call becomes something... Else.

    Troia is still there, and so is Caitlin. Yet the device that was communicating with Zvende is no longer active in her hand- for Zvende's part, she's getting static.

    Donna and Cait resolve within the tower. It is a jarring process in its instantaneity. They were in the rocket one moment, and the next definable moment, at the deepest levels of perception, they are standing without momentum.

    He stands from his chair, resplendent in blue and gold. Kent Nelson, the first of his name in centuries to wear the mantel, cuts an impassive, imposing figure. The facelessness of his helmet is all-judging.

    It can be palpably felt that they now stand in the presence of the Universe's greatest magical defender. They stand before Doctor Fate.

    "You wished for my attention." The voice is powerful. It echoes amongst the chamber. "You have it. Tell me of your ordeal, and I will tell you how best I can help."

Donna Troy has posed:
    It's many centuries since Troia fully embraced the Harmony of New Kronos, if not the traditions of non-interference common to that demesne. She has come a long way from the Donna of old, and she just does not do the human things the way she once did. She still cares, or she would not have spent the centuries the way she has, but it's a much more abstract way of caring now. She cares for mortals. She protects mortals. She fights those would would threaten them. But she doesn't really /get/ mortals any more. They are such fragile, such temporary things. They concern themselves with such small and irrelevant things.

    Troia knows she has irked Zvende with her comments, there is still enough of the old Donna there for that, but she doesn't really care. That's such a /this moment in time/ thing. However she isn't remotely offended by Zvende's reaction, nor Caitlin's excuses. She may have chosen to become a god, but she never chose to be one who demanded deference or respect. She shrugs off the exchange, so little concerned by it that the shrug remains metaphorical and never makes its way to her shoulders.

    On the other hand what might, were the part of her that was Donna entirely gone, seem like Kent's presumption, does not bother her either. It does amuse her a little, which she shows with a brief smirk to Caitlin and the faintest of eye-rolls. It's familiar enough to Caitlin, a reminder of the old Donna's nature, though were she still Donna it might have been accompanied by a whispered "Cute" of amusement, but there are some ways in which Troia is in fact the more diplomatic of the two.

    "Not exactly," Troia says to Kent. "We wish for your boss's attention, and you seemed to be the best route for us to find it. It's either you or calling in a favor Hekate owes me, and that tends to mean counting your change."

Rachel Roth has posed:
    The natures of those who are present are known to Fate. Donna's laugh does not seem to draw his ire. He stares between the two for a time. There is a pointed silence that flows through the room.

    It is broken by Troia, first. Fates glowing eyes lock upon the Amazon as she speaks. If it sours his mood at all, Fate does not show it. His voice doesn't seem to waver. "I understand your request, but you should know full well; You are not welcome here. Much less There. I must determine if your plight is not something with which I can assist."

    It does make sense; Raven always was antisocial. There is nothing to this other than theater. It is perhaps impossible with the breadth of Raven's influence, that she does not already know the entirety of the situation. Even still, Fate is trying his best. The power at his command allows for much more impetuous greetings. He is, as it were, being diplomatic.

    While still being /Doctor Fate./

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin holds her hands aloft in an apologetic gesture. "I know we're stepping on toes, Fate," she apologizes, taking a step forward. "It's not our intent to show up and sow discord. But we're in a bind, and we need Rae's help."

She puts a subtle emphasis on that name. Not 'Rachel', not 'Raven'. Rae. A person who hasn't existed for many years. "The situation's urgent. There's a temporal anomaly forming on Earth. It's tied to someone the original Titans delt with a thousand years ago. I think we can fix it, but we need the Titans from then, here," she clarifies. "Then we can stitch this whole situation up with a minimum of fuss."

Her face falls. "It's bad," she adds. "So far it's just structural damage, some fast aging or age regression. Only a few thousand people have been affected. But the anomaly /is/ growing, and it could potentially start to collapse space time around it. If that happens, millions could die. We could lose Earth."

Hands spread in appeal. "Think you can help us out on this one?"

Donna Troy has posed:
"Funnily enough I'm not exactly hugely thrilled to be here myself," Troia responds with just a hint of snark. "I have no great desire to revisit ancient history, and besides I've got an empire to topple which this whole business is interrupting. I wouldn't be here myself if... "She tilts her head in Caitlin's direction. "If Caitlin weren't underselling the danger here."

    "The temporal anomaly is a collapsing time-loop. It's not going to wipe out Earth, it's going to destroy the universe. Only it won't of course, because before it gets that far there are people who are going to step in who none of us want to try to deal with."

    "And here's the kicker. Even if you don't care about losing Earth, this temporal anomaly derives from an event chain we were involved with a thousand years ago. Caitlin, me, your boss, a few others. There's two ways to fix it. Either the people who were part of that original event return to the point it happened and stop it happening, which closes the loop without a paradox, or the entire event chain gets excised, which would be /their/ solution. And if that happens, then your boss's father is still alive, and she isn't. So you can't assist, because you're /not her/. And frankly, she can't /not/ assist."

    "So, we've established none of us wants to be here, but we've got to be. So how about let's get it over with and then we can go back to never speaking to each other again, Rae?"

    Troia knows it's theater too, and she's confident enough that Raven is listening in right now that she's addressing Raven directly instead of continuing the pretence.

Jinx has posed:
A quiet little yawn, hand aloft, Lucky slips off the /thing/ she was resting on. It's undignified but she's never been one for specific luxuries. Yes, shinies are nice and she has always enjoyed them. But roughing it is the truth of Lucky. Always has been.

She rubs her eyes and wanders back out to the 'bridge' - if it can be called that. "Hm, no one woke up Lucky I see." Still, the tea pot is there. A swirl a of a finger and the pot heats back up. She pours herself out a cup. "Regret that they will, talk like yoda for rest of journey I shall..."

She looks at the 'screen' and sees the Earth. A strange place now. She misses the old world and the things lost cannot be brought back which for her is a shame because those young people don't know what they're missing out on.

Then, she pours out another three cups. One for Caitlin, one for Troia, and one for Rae. There is little reason to doubt that Rae won't join them. Unless she wants the universe to end. May be it's time - Raven would know. In this Lucky is confident.

Rachel Roth has posed:
    After hearing Caitlin, and... Experiencing Troia, Fate offers a curt, brief nod. "So it is as desperate as it seems." he states, before holding up a hand. "Know that where you go now, none other than Fate has gone for millenia. Even still, you will not be harmed." His voice is little reassurance, in its stoic calm. All the same, the statement he makes is formal for 'Where you're going isn't dangerous, but keep in mind the exclusivity is reasoned.' His right hand raises. His eyes begin to expel light now like small stars contained behind the helm.

    "I will buy us as much additional time as I can. If all goes to plan, we will not need it. As for the rest... It will be you. SO FATE DEMANDS!"

    With his final call, the white light from his eyes fills the room. It is supernaturally, impossibly blinding. When it abates, just a bit, sight is possible. They are in a realm of Order. It is, dutifully, serene. It was once known as Azarath. Her voice can be heard before the eyes will take in her form: "I have seen the anomaly." she states, "It is a dire situation. Either we act Now and Then, or everything that is will cease to be."

    There is a pause. Raven looks the same as she did thousands of years ago. Except now, where once had been the garb of an Azarathian sorceress, in its midnight blacks and blues, is a replica of that dress in pure, untouched white. For the moment, her hood is down.

    "Even so, there is no small amount of caution required when dealing with upset time. Improper decorum can draw their ire in every attempt at repair. It will require... Great effort."

    

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin can see the windup coming and forces all the air out of her lungs. When they're translocated she holds for a few cautious beats, then slowly inhales through her nose to fill her lungs again. When she does she catches a new scent on the air and looks over at Jinx, smiling at her friend in welcome. "We found Rae," she tells Jinx, a little redundantly.

The redhead looks over at Raven and smiles pleasantly at her. "It's good to see you, Rae," she bids the avatar of Order with a sincere happiness. "I mean, /you/, you, not just, uh--" she gestures vaguely over her head as if indicating the trans-spatial entity Raven exists as. "Thanks for manifesting for us."

Caitlin glances sidelong at Donna, then starts urging Jinx and Rae towards the little tea service that had materialized. Jinx is offered a helping hand to sit down; Caitlin seems to give even odds on whether Rae and Donna will deign to join the regular mortals at the table.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Troia does not take up the invitation to join Caitlin and Lucky at the table, though Donna certainly would have. Caitlin knows that Donna is still there, still a part of Troia, and that side of her can be coaxed out from time to time. When old friends are around, when things are familiar and comfortable.

    Not today. Not here. There's too much to unpack for that. Old wounds not to be reopened. Troia finds a wall to lean against, maintaining a distance from Raven. She greets the Lord of Order with a formal nod, and a studiously neutral "Raven."

    "I concur. We must fix this, and we must do so carefully.So much time has passed and so much has happened to us all that we may risk forgetting just how stupid we all were back then. It will be hard not to give words of advice to our former selves. Harder to avoid mentioning things by accident that could be almost as disruptive."

    Troia nods to Raven. "Who you are now... had you known, back then, that one day Trigon would be destroyed, you would have been a different person. Perhaps you would have been less cautious, and thus Trigon might never have been destroyed."

    "My uncle has granted my travel sphere the capability to traverse time safely for this single occasion, but we are going to a time when I had already received my travel sphere but did not yet know it. Lucky, Raven, I'd ask one or both of you to maintain an illusory disguise so as not to let the me of that time realize what she has. It's too soon. Lucky, you were still Jinx. Still testing the waters of caring about others, still learning to become who you became. That is not a process that can be shortcut without you becoming someone else. Cait... Caitlin, you hadn't even realized you are immortal back then. You had barely a shred of confidence in yourself, and being faced with the great responsibility of becoming a leader of heroes for so many generations might terrify your former self. We must take the greatest care in what we let our former selves know of what we have become."

Jinx has posed:
"Wooosh," is what comes out of Lucky's mouth as they are drawn in to the metaphysical concept space of Order. It is not exactly the kind of place native to a homo magis who can manipulate luck as easily as breathing. Here things are very 'set' and at the whims of Raven.

"We have?," she responds looking the wrong way and then slowly turns around to see Raven in white. "Rae!" She throws open her arms wide and then instantly regrets it with a small wince. "Enthusiasm outpaces physical ability yet again."

As Caitlin tries to help her sit she bats at her hands, "Oi I'm not that frail ya well watered bean pole." She smirks and none the less takes a seat on the offered chair. Hands rearrange the plentiful fabric of her white kimono.

"I like what you've done with the place," she mentions even though it's a vast something of Order and brightness. She's not waiting though. Tea is there and she takes another sip. "Illusions. Got it. I am going to be doing that for myself," a small chuckle of amusement, "so yes. I will be on illusion duty."

A glance is given side long to Caitlin and then she smiles placidly instead of mischievously. "You fret too much. We can do this. It's nothing we haven't dealt with before." An eyebrow waggles, "Literally. Or is that Figuratively these days. I can't keep up. They keep swapping their meanings every few generations."

Rachel Roth has posed:
    "Yes." Raven returns to Troia. Jinx's wide arms and lack of effect draw Raven's attention, for a spare moment or two. Millenia old reflex from having to fling things at Jinx, and Jinx at things? Maybe. It's hard to say that she has anything akin to reflex anymore.

    When finally Jinx falls silent, Raven continues. "If you knew what you know now, perhaps you would not have taken to a life of sewing chaos through the universe." A measured, but tame, response. Its meaning is in its implication, rather than anything else.

    "Then there must be no delay." Raven is, even more than normal, all business. Greetings, she felt, were not in order. They all knew each other. They knew who they were here to speak with. Pleasantries are not required. With less than a wave of her hand, and more of an... Impression of where they all should be, the former Titans exist once more within the Travel Sphere.

    Raven's hands come up, and grasp at her hood. She ensconces her head within it, and then nothing is visible beneath the shadow.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin flips her hands in the air in exasperation, even during the translocation Raven effects. "It wouldn't kill you two to at least /pretend/ to be civil," she tells Rae and Donna with a stern Mom Voice. "You know? 'Hi, it's been three centuries, hope you're well', that kind of thing," she grumbles, and gives Jinx a plaintive look, asking silently for support.

The issue isn't pressed, though; Rae and Donna have become entities that see social niceties as something between an inconvenience and a waste of time. Instead she sets her tea down and leans back comfortably in her seat.

"It's not impossible we could pull our past selves forward," she muses. "The anomaly will be much smaller nearer the origin event, but the chronological synchronicity itself would still be in a resonance pattern. We'd have a much smaller footprint on the timeline; bring our past selves forward, send them back in the same Planck instant. Reality wouldn't know the difference," she points out, and rolls a palm to invite the others to consider it.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Is there even a difference?" Troia asks. The mom voice gets ignored. "At the point of origin, surely the past /is/ the present. Past... present... these are very three dimensional ways of looking at time. Terms we apply to time because our perceptions are linear. The chronological synchronization induces a matching pattern, and what is 'now' other than the particular pattern of the shape of time? So long as we ensure nothing but ourselves gets on the wrong side of things when the two time-points are desynchronized it's all good, and we're going to have been there at both time-points anyway, so there's no disruption."

    Troia shrugs. "At least that's what my uncle says, and I tend to trust his instincts for these things. He may not be the actual god of time, but there's a reason why when the Ancient Greeks invented one they borrowed his name. "

    Troia turns to one of the things that looks like it might be a control console for the travel sphere, though it has no buttons or switches on it. Travel Sphere controls are telepathic. Perhaps Troia knows what the console-like bits are for, perhaps not. She's not saying. She does lean the palms of her hands on it and stare down at the surface as if it was some kind of instrumentation though. "And we're going to have to figure out who else from back then is alive too. Perhaps a bit of divination is in order. I can consult my oracle, but it tends to get even more vague and confusing when time travel is involved."

Jinx has posed:
Lucky half squints an eye at Raven and then her smile spreads just a little more. Back in the travel sphere she has learnt to be much more diplomatic than her 2023 counterpart. "Cait, I love you _buuuut_ don't ask them to be something they no longer are. Trust that they care otherwise they would not be standing here now."

She rests an arm about her tall friend and leans in against her. "Besides, however tempted the Lord of Order might be to set a young Jinx on a different path, I'm quite sure she knows better. Just as I do." She wiggles her fingers as she completes her illusion.

Jinx stands by Caitlin's side but she doesn't hold herself with that same distrusting paranoia that she had a thousand years ago. She can't undo being at peace with herself. "Whatever happens, there is no reason to point fingers amongst ourselves - it is our time travelling friend who has placed our present in peril pointlessly.." She pauses hoping people will appreciate the alliteration.

"Who we are after this is.. who we are. For better or for worse, existence needs our potential sacrifice." She taps the side of her nose, "Even we cannot see beyond our own horizons. I have faith of the heart that everything will turn out a-okay."

This probably isn't the kind of talk that the Lord of Order would find comforting. Chaos creates and destroys, Order persists. "It's a good question Troia. Especially since I can barely remember who /was/ there. It was so long ago."

Rachel Roth has posed:
    The front of Raven's cloak drifts over her, concealing the rest of her from view. Were she not so inherently /alien/ right now, so ineffably /not of/ this degree of existence anymore, it might have been a comforting sight. It's true that she's bothered in some tiny way by Jinx's words, but as is usual, she doesn't show it.

    "I am being civil." she notes- of course, there is more than a little truth to it. She has many ways of being uncivil. Regardless, the statement only distracts her momentarily. She listens to Troia, and like it were carved of pure marble, the cloak does not move.

    "I have been keeping track." she offers the trio. This begs the question- did Raven know this was going to happen? How long has she known? Or, has she just been keeping track of all of the Titans? Who else? Why?

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"I admit, I struggle with doing quantum mathematics in my head," Caitlin concedes. "So we'll defer to the cosmic entities that don't use calculus to work the numbers out."

She gets to her feet and stretches her lower back, making it *crack* audibly. "I can raise some of the old gang on the ansible," she offers. "I know Kara would want to help even if she wasn't there. Grayson, too, though it might take him a little while to get to us."

She looks around the time-sphere, then at Donna and Rae. "I'll also check the Titans records, we lost a lot of them in that electromagnetic surge in 22-hundred-something, but I might get lucky and find some old mission brief." She snorts as a thought occurs to her. "Golly, it might be written on /paper/ for all I know," she says, and laughs.

"At any rate-- someone mind opening me a portal?" Once the shimmering door manifests, Caitlin turns to walk through it, pausing with one foot in the time-sphere and one in the threshold.

"Jinx, you wanna come with? We've still got your old room," she offers, and looks to Raven and Donna. "And I'll leave you two, to, uh... ...yeah," she says, wrinkling her nose and stepping into the portal entirely.

"Call me when you have news!" she calls back-- and then the portal snaps shut, as the Titans spread out to start finding their far-flung allies across the stars.