7616/In Erebos: The Bargain

In Erebos: The Bargain
Date of Scene:	31 August 2021
Location:	Tartarus
Synopsis:	Raven is made a very strange offer on her way out of Tartarus. She crosses the Acheron, but perhaps not all of her makes it to the other side.
Cast of Characters:	Donna Troy, Rachel Roth

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Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna takes one last glance back at Raven as she steps through the portal, following after the rest of the Titans. It takes only the normal human empathy between lovers to read everything that's in that glance - her regret that Raven isn't coming along, even if she understands why; that sliver of fear that even the most confident must feel when separating from someone they love to head into danger, that they might never see them again; guilt that she is leaving Raven alone; guilt that she would feel that guilt when she knows she must trust Raven to look after herself, just as Raven must trust her.

    The portal closes, Donna's words to the other Titans as she starts to explain the trial ahead of them cut off mid-sentence, and the hubbub of excited Titans silenced. Suddenly, with just Hekate and Raven there, this corner of Tartarus is much quieter, almost peaceful.

    "To separate in Tartarus requires either a lot of faith in each other, or extraordinary foolishness," Hekate says. Neither her voice nor expression give way which she believes to be the case. She turns to the Iron Gate, and opens it with a gesture. The metal swings slowly and smoothly open in silence, as if the hinges are well-oiled.

    "You will need to cross the Acheron to return to the mortal world. I shall accompany you."

Rachel Roth has posed:
    There isn't a single thing about this that Raven doesn't hate. She wants to go with Troia. She wants to protect a place as special as Themyscira. She wants to make sure that every measure in the universe is taken to ensure that Donna and Raven return to the tower, together.

    She doesn't mind being alone, in as much. She minds that her solitude now means that Troia is in danger. The journey up the steps is nothing; Facing an army is daunting. She has no illusions that the Titans will not be victorious- but there is always a cost. From pizza to important lessons about the underworld, the Titans never seem to get anything for free.

    "We have never known the difference." Raven remarks, and in some facets, it's more true than anything ever said. Most of the Titans- perhaps even all of them, really- are not the kind of people that at first or second glance you would place all of your faith in without others being at least a little right to call it foolish. This is something even more than that. Troia may not be fully aware, but Raven is- and that bit of irony isn't lost here.

    Her footsteps through the door are soft, accompanied by no noise from the heroine; As if she isn't even breathing. Whether there was an argument against Hekate accompaying her back to the realm of the living isn't apparent. She doesn't seem interested in making it.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Hekate inclines her head. It's less than a nod, just an acknowledgement of the answer that Raven had given. There is no judgement - hardly surprising to someone as versed in supernatural matters as the Titan's sorceress. What is recorded about Hekate in books, even those rare books that are more than just recounting ancient myth, books that few living other than Raven have read, are not to be trusted when it comes to knowing the goddess. It is more about knowing what Hekate is than who she is. She /is/ magic, and magic is a slippery thing. It is rarely concerned with the way things are so much as the way things might be.

    Hekate leads Raven through the Iron Gate, which swings shut behind them, equally noiselessly. The terrain they are crossing seems as bleak on the other side: rough, bare rock, slightly slick with a sheen of mud, with no sign of life. The sky is darker though, barely reflecting the fiery volcanic glow that had been ever-present behind the walls of Tartarus. The area around the pair is illuminated with a dim and faintly oppressive light that appears to have no visible source, but seems centered around them, and before long even the great wall behind them is lost in the darkness.

    "There are those who would say you and she make a strange pairing," Hekate observes, failing to suggest whether she counts herself as one of those who would say it, or whether she just choses to report this fact to see how Raven responds.

Rachel Roth has posed:
    Slippery, effervescent, easily distracted; Human concepts that equally apply to most if not all forms of magic. It is intrinsically a matter of not necessarily chaos- because there can be logic and reason and Law to what magic does- but rather a matter of change. Raven knows this; and in knowing this only knows that Hekate is an awkward person to engage in any sense of the word. Magically, it might be foolish to try and combat her or struggle, unless you were very good at suggesting that Hekate's mastery over magic is the status quo.

    Raven is not necessarily a distance sprinter, though there are those that can attest to her stamina being particularly higher than normal. Where she gets that stamina exactly, considering that she isn't one of the most physically gifted of the Titans, is anyone's guess save Troia's. That others are left to guess is either a testament to some lascivious origin, or just that Troia likes letting people think that. Either way, Raven doesn't seem to notice the distance they're travelling other than the occasional observation that they've travelled it.

    "There are those who would kindly oblige the world by shutting their mouths." Raven responds, failing to suggest whether she counts Hekate as one of those who should listen to the suggestion, or whether she just chooses to report this counter-fact to create a form of understanding between herself and Hekate.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "I might be inclined to agree with you," Hekate replies. It might imply she is offering some tacit approval of the relationship, or be a more general opinion of the people who would bring up such questions. Or may simply be a riposte. Such ambiguities are to be expected in a conversation between the two.

    Were there anyone else present to hear the conversation, they would no doubt be frustrated by its subtlty and the refusal of either participant to offer anything that is not indeed too ambiguous for the flow of the discussion to be followed. There are not, but it is perhaps nevertheless something to be thankful for that this phase of the journey is a short one. The sound of water lapping gently against rocks becomes audible only a few minutes after the pair leave the Iron gate, and shortly thereafter they come to a stop on the banks of a broad body of water, stretching into the darkness in three directions.

    "We wait," Hekate announces, staring out across the dark water. "The ferryman will be here soon. Did you think to bring an /obol/ to pay him with?"

Rachel Roth has posed:
    Admittedly, Raven is not at all argumentative of the concepts that Hekate is both approving of herself and Troia, as well as disapproving of those who would spend their time snickering and jeering about such a relationship in the first place. The only question is whether Hekate cares enough to take offense at the /idea/ that Raven might have included her in that last sentence, as far as she's concerned.

    Those purple eyes of hers stare out across the whole of the river, as if locking onto a point that one would require, well, the devil's own sight to see. She came here rather ready for others to be guided along the path, and for them to be ferried, as well. Damian did believe that mundane coins would do the deed- and there is some truth to that...

    But Raven came prepared.

    From the pocket of her hoody, she draws a pair of coins- ancient and worn, but the genuine article indeed. Where Raven got them- /when/ and /how/ being excellent questions as well- is unknown. Much of Raven's belongings are in their own way no small enigma. She can go anywhere, and she can do that whenever she pleases. Perhaps a more perplexing question would be why she /wouldn't/ have ancient greek coins.

    "I came here to help the others leave. I brought their fare."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Charon will be satisfied," Hekate says. "But I am sure that you understand that a voyage across this river can involve paying in more than coin. That much is true of any journey worth undertaking."

    The sound of the water lapping against rocks is joined by another, more distant sound, growing ever closer. A rhythmic knock of wood against wood. The ferry emerges out of the darkness, and the hooded ferryman raises his pole from the water, resting it on the side of the small ferry as it drifts the last few feet to shore, coming to a halt at the bank just inches from the rocks. The ferryman stands utterly still, hood pointed down-river, as if ignoring the two passengers waiting.

    Hekate steps aboard and takes a seat on a wooden bench. "Charon," she says. "How long has it been since you last picked up passengers on this side of the river? So few mortals have quested in Tartarus lately. I will accompany you on this journey."

    Charon gives a barely visible nod, and his hooded face turns towards Raven. The shadow in the hood is utterly dark. He raises one arm, hand held out flat ready for the coin, and waits.

Rachel Roth has posed:
    Idly, Raven passes the coin between her fingers, flipping it dexterously between the knuckles. It's a trick she played at, at one point- something she felt just seemed neat. "If the journey is worth undertaking, is what is paid truly a cost?"

    Raven toys with the coin for the entire time that Charon is approaching. She hears it, of course- that's kind of the point of the silence on the bank. The Ferryman is to be heard. Charon's presence and role are to be understood.

    Hekate greets him like an old friend, but Raven has little else that she can do but treat him as a particularly unfamiliar bus driver. He holds his hand aloft, and she drops the coin into it, before floating calmly into the boat.

    She does not take a seat, instead preferring to stand. "There will be a crossing point." she states, now informing Hekate of something, which is probably a bit Different, to be honest. "Do not be surprised if I am gone."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Little surprises me, Raven," Hekate answers. "The crossing point is the far bank. When you step from this boat onto the opposite shore, you will be back in your own world. Those in the realm you leave will not care what you do then, until perhaps it is one day time for you to return. He who's eyes you fear might find you will find the light of your world makes his vision dimmer than the darkness of this one."

    Charon takes his long pole in both hands and lifts it over the side of the boat, pushing away from the rocks and letting it drift, carried by the flow of the river for a short while before he dips it into the water, lowering it hand-over-hand until only a few feet stick up above the surface, and pushes. The boat veers further from the bank. Hekate watches impassively. "However deep the river is, his /urnu-pole/ always finds the bottom," she remarks before turning her attention to Raven once more.

    "There are those who say that to cross the Acheron is to be cleansed of ones sins. Were this true, then none who come to Tartarus would find in that realm that they are expected to pay a price for the deeds they performed in your realm. And yet there is a shard of truth in this story. Each of the five rivers has its own properties; this one does indeed have aspects of purification, though things are never so simple. You may be tempted by the peacefulness of the journey to rest your arm over the side, to enjoy the sensation of the water passing over your hand. It is not a decision to be made idly in this place."

Rachel Roth has posed:
    "So you say." Raven remarks, looking off towards the side of the river that they will, inevitably, move toward. Raven listens, but seemingly not with intent. Despite this, it is certain that she cannot help /but/ listen to Hekate. The river is calm and quiet, its waters only hostile to those that aim to pass without paying their fare, or those that should not be allowed to pass at all. "And much /is/ as you say, but not all."

    Charon gets to work, and Raven regards the pole for but a fraction of a moment. "Would that it did not, he would not be much of a ferryman of this particular river. No amount of skill in handling it would suffice."

    "The waters of the Acheron do more than provide a conundrum of how to cross. Death likes her stillness, and to disturb that is to offer offense to something greater than yourself. Some cannot resist. Others merely did not understand how much calm they wanted until it was too late. I sense, however, a point to be made. What is it that you're moving to?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    "An opportunity," Hekate replies. "You are on the Acheron. You are with me. These two facts create possibilities that would not exist were both facts not true. Water can wash away many things, but it cannot wash away evil."

    She turns away, looking out into the darkness. The boat continues its journey, Charon dipping his barge pole deep into the water from time to time to keep it on course. "A river is a barrier. This one is more than a physical barrier. Perhaps that idea of the Acheron being a purifying river is because it is possible, when the circumstances are right, for one to cross the river and yet find that parts of oneself have been unable to cross with them. Perhaps it would be more accurate to think of the Acheron not as a river made of water that can wash sins away, but one that can leave them on the far bank."

    She glances back at Raven, and adds "I did say such decisions were not to be taken idly," before turning away again, a hint of a smile on her features.

Rachel Roth has posed:
    "This is the second oddest proposition I have ever received." Raven remarks, the nature of the word proposition very much not ambiguous, and by purpose. Regardless, she takes her time to regard the water. "If it were only so easy." There is a sourness to her statement- that she does not regard what Hekate is saying as easy at all, yet in comparison to the task of washing away the evil that is Raven, easy is probably the best word for it.

    "And I suppose you are saying now, that the circumstances are right? That traveling the Acheron with Hekate is exactly the correctly proportioned mix to strip away a portion and leave it behind?"

    Her eyes are still on the water. It isn't /temptation/ necessarily. There is logic to it. "If only my father could not swim."

Donna Troy has posed:
    Hekate tilts her head to the side, as if in deep thought, then gives a slight smile. "There is an element of metaphor in what I say, it is true. You prefer plainer speaking, perhaps. Then yes. Yes Raven, the circumstances are right."

    "You would not simply be leaving your demon-self behind. But the Acheron can be a barrier, and I have enough sway over this realm that it will bend to my will, if I so chose to apply my will in that direction. I can use that barrier to separate out that part of you the river does not like, and I can bind it in ancient magics that disguise its form, and hide it away in a place it could not be found. If I so choose."

    She turns away, looking once more into the darkness ahead, and Charon keeps up his slow and steady polling, showing no signs he even hears the conversation. "And if you so chose, Raven. There are those who in my position would consider destroying you, to protect so much and so many from the danger your existence in your current form continues to pose. This does not enter my consideration. This is not how I work. And yet, I choose to make you this offer. There will be no price, if you deem what is paid to be... not truly a cost for a journey worth undertaking."

    "You separated from your lover, both of you wishing you did not, because you felt you had to. One more of so many choices you have taken reluctantly because there was no other alternative. Now, in this singular moment, I am presenting you an alternative. "

Rachel Roth has posed:
    Raven nods a couple of times. "When offering to shear the repulsive and repressive portions of my soul off through a magical barrier," she notes, "It is I think wiser to favor clearer communication than languish in the beauty of the words involved."

    Raven looks at Hekate for a while, then. Her piercing gaze is withering, and it'd take in this moment someone just like Hekate to weather it for any particular length of time. Unblinking, she considers the offer on the table. The very /idea/ that there is a place that her father would not think to look, let alone effortlessly wrest dominion over to take it from, is a daunting one indeed. She is, of course, taken aback somewhat.

    "There is no such place." she finally states, "Even if I were willing to do this, I cannot just... Let it drift into his hands. I know of no realm into which, other than mine, he cannot simply walk and take that which he desires."

    And yet, still, she is not saying no- it is more of a need of reassurance, of /proof/ that this task can be done. That this portion of her can be simply hidden away. "Yet another of many choices."

Donna Troy has posed:
    Hekate turns back to look at Raven, holding that gaze without any signs of withering, though whether she's just good at not showing it or truly immune can only be guessed at. After a short while, she shrugs her shoulders and turns away again.

    "It is your choice," she repeats before falling silent. It may seem for a while that this is her last word on it, that the time and the opportunity have simply passed, and she doesn't care, but after a few more minutes she does continue.

    "When it comes to this matter, so close to you, I suppose it is not surprising that you would let your concern cloud your rationality. You think I would suggest such a thing if it were not possible? Perhaps you understand who I am less than you think you do. "

    She turns to Raven again. "There are places that he cannot simply enter. But that is beside the point. He would need to know where to look. There are realms where the magic does not follow paths that are predictable, where he could go if he knew to, but where his eye would find it hard to make sense of. Realms of chaos. Your presumptuous feline companion comes from one such place. To simply place your demon-self in such a place would delay him, but he would find it eventually. And unlike the realm you have created in yourself, he could enter such a place to take it. This is true."

    "But he would only find it because he knows what to look for. In every realm, your demon-self will stand out amongst the magic of that realm. But I can change its outer form. Transmute the tides of magic that are its shell. And if I were to do that, if I were to make it seem chaotic and place it in a realm of chaos, a billion billion years might pass before he were able to discern it."

Rachel Roth has posed:
    Raven is used to people shirking away from her gaze, but Hekate is either immune, or just bares it longer than most people tend to do. Neither is her concern. Her gaze merely returns to the waters of Acheron, as she ponders whether it can truly be used to give her freedom.

    Raven exhales. Deeply, and fully. She does not look up from the water. "I worry that we would be dooming another realm to an invasion of his design." And yet. "I fear that if he did, he would simply be able to grab up that which he needs, no longer able to fight him as it has been." That part of her has never been able to fight Trigon, it is the rest of her that argues and stands against.

    There's another long moment of staring at the water. "Troia believes that she is the one that nobody can lie to. She isn't wrong. Deception is an easy smell for me to discern- even from someone like you." As it seems then that she is to accuse Hekate of being a liar, Raven relents some of her implacable facade.

    "But I do not smell it here. You know the risk. The disguise cannot be anything other than perfect- I believe that you believe that you can make it so- but I need to /know/ that you can do so. I need you to be absolutely certain, beyond the curtain of your own hubris, that it can be done without even the tiniest of faults."

Donna Troy has posed:
    Across the still river a sound echoes that has almost never been heard there, that of laughter. It is brief, but reveals what is surely a genuine amusement in Hekate.

    "Troia's gift is a shard of of a singular power," Hekate begins after a few moments. "A power created by Gaia herself. A shard of the True Oracle, passed down from mother to daughter. You need only the power of rationality to discern truth here. Why would I deceive you? There is nothing in it for me. Could I want the power of your demon-self for myself? Of course not. It is a potent thing, but not worth opposing your father to gain, and it has a flavor I have distate for. Could it be a part of some scheme, some machination of Olympus, or of Hades? No - I am Hekate. My schemes are my own and they are best served if your father does not interfere with them. We stand at a confluence of events. Troia, you, me. This place. This opportunity. You can sense that."

    "And as for hubris - look around you. Look where you are. Do you really think that in this place of power, in this limnal zone, I could not simply take from you by force what I offer to take from you if you so desire it? And yet I leave the choice entirely to you."

    Hekate folds her hands in her lap, smiling her faint enigmatic smile at the darkness, and looks again into the darkness ahead. "We are nearing the end of your journey. You must decide. All of life, every decision is a gamble. If you do not take this choice, every day of your life will continue to be a risk. A risk that you will, eventually, slip. That you will let him in. Do you think you are without the tiniest of flaws? Did you not already let him in to another world, once, and another time very nearly let him into the world you now call your own? I offer you a different gamble. And if I cannot tell you it is no gamble at all, I can tell you that it is a safer gamble than you make every day."

    " You are a key, Raven. And I am /Hekate Kleidouchos/, the key-bearer. You are a gate between worlds, and I am /Hekate Propylaia/, the guardian of gateways. You are created by one of the great powers of the universe to be an open door, and you fight every day of your life to keep yourself closed so that great power may not cross. I am created by one of the great powers of the universe to control who passes through doorways. You fight who you are to guard the doorway you were intended to become, and I already am what you strive to shape yourself into.

    "I am not Gaia, Raven. I am not perfect. But I am as close to perfection when it comes to closing gates to those who should not pass through them as you are ever likely to meet."

    "And I am /Hekate Triodia/, the Lady of Crossroads, and you stand on a crossroads, Raven. Make your choice. Choose which of my branching paths you will walk down."

Rachel Roth has posed:
    "I know what Troia is- from whence all of her power comes." Unvoiced implication being that mayhaps Troia herself does not. Raven is a difficult one to fool- her powers inherent lay bare the intentions of everyone she's ever met, for good or ill. One of the reasons that she is so standoffish against most people is due to their muddled internal conflicts, their negatives intermixed with their positives open for her like a book.

    It sounds as exhausting as it is.

    Yet, through all of Hekate's monologue, Raven is silent. Listening. Mulling. Hekate even makes a vague threat- wrapped in a statement of course, it's to prove a point, and Raven just... Lets it happen. At least, for the moment. It's when Hekate has finished that Raven finally rebuts.

    "I am the Raven. If you are the the key-bearer, I am the Key of Kings. I open all doors, and I close all paths. I am a design greater than any before it." There is a noise, a rumbling amongst the waters of the Acheron. "Were you to try and take from me that which he deigns his, it would fight you, and so would I- as one, even you would not dare, even in this place, to think in your hubris that it would be /simple,/ that it would be /possible/ let alone /easy./ I am /power incarnate,/ before my birthright, reality itself is like clay."

    There is a minor pause, but Raven does not let it sit long enough for Hekate to engage a response.

    "From this realm I could tear my way out if I so chose. Before me lie infinite choices, each of which holds more power and potential than the last. No door is closed to me. I am /perfect./" The last word is spoken with as much disdain for it as there would be pride. "I am his Pride. I am the /Key of Kings./"

    The rumbling stops. Though Charon had little trouble navigating it, as the Acheron is his domain, that its waters regain their calm is something to be thankful for. Raven seats herself, then.

    "I don't want to be anymore. Do it."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Yes. You are indeed his Pride," Hekate says, her smile widening. "And perhaps you would do well to learn what the word 'hubris' truly means. It is certainly not something I am guilty of - I could not be. I am what hubris is measured against."

    It is dangerous to anger the divine, and all the combined might of Olympus would be wary of angering Hekate, but there is no hint of anger. She seems utterly calm. "You are /a/ power incarnate. I am another. One that is far older, and far wiser. Yes, you could tear your way out of this realm if you chose. You have that power. And yet, you would be ill-advised to do so."

    "You say that reality is like clay before your birthright, and this shows the limitations of your knowledge. Reality, as you know it, /is/ clay. Nothing more. Or it is a tapestry, woven by three beings who's existence, as far as you, or I, or your father, or any of the gods of Olympus can percieve it, remains no more than our projections of something else. How much does the motion of their shuttle reflect our choices, and how much does it lead it? None know for sure, perhaps not even they. One day Death shall meet the Three, and yet even the Endless are part of the design on that loom. Even those of us who can shape the clay of reality might vanish in a moment were a particular thread be pulled from the pattern."

    She shrugs her shoulders. "But this is all abstraction. It is not relevant. You have chosen which of the branching paths to walk down. You have chosen to be free of a burden that has weighed on you all your life. You have chosen to embrace life, and love, and you have turned your back on Him. Not an easy choice. Perhaps the hardest you have made. You have rejected pride, and in so doing defeated it. "

    "...At least for now."

    There's bump and the ferry comes to a gentle rest on the opposite shore of the river, a shore that had not been apparent until the moment it was right there. It looks to the eye no different from the shore they had left some while before, yet Raven can clearly sense that as soon as she has stepped on it that will change, that she will no longer be in this realm, but on the banks of some river on Earth, counterpart to this one in some mystic fashion.

    "Step ashore, Raven. At the moment you cross over, it will be done. You will be free."

Rachel Roth has posed:
    Raven is silent again. Frankly, all of Hekate's words are primarily tuned out. She takes this time to think about the decision she's made. She could continue to participate in the posturing- to measure herself again against Hekate, but the truth of it is that she's tired of such things- exhausted at being driven by a part of herself she hates intrinsically to display the power she's never wanted in the first place.

    "It deserves it." is all she says- the concept of gratitude not entirely entering her mood even as she stands, the thump of the boat's contact against the shoreline having woken her from whatever torpor had gripped her for so long. She stands, placing her hands in her pockets.

    Without another word, one leg leaves the boat, and half of Raven exits Tartarus. There is a palpable sensation to her when she exits- Raven knew that she would, and did, feel something when she re-enters the mortal world. In this case, however, it is not just the sensation of being /alive/ again, even though she was not /dead/ before. Rather, it is the sensation of metaphysical weight being removed.

    For a moment, Raven relaxes- and the world doesn't end.