| Logs |
2010 July 04
| When The Bough Breaks |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
| Realms: Bough Logs |
Intermezzo: Melange
It is noon in Babylon, the light streaming down from an otherwise crystal-clear sky marred only by the stormclouds that hang about the peak of Mount Zion like the curtains around a tabernacle. But the high walls of the Temples Quarter seem to be able to block the view of that mountain of hubris. Of course there'll be no way to tell until they get inside.Mikal and Jareth have somewhat odd feelings as they go down past the airship docks to the Lugalgirra Gate. It is absolutely like they have made the trip there before, and they almost certainly have, perhaps even in multiple lives. But approaching the gate does not bring them the usual sense of discontinuity that normally accompanies these 'flashbacks.' Instead, it seems like some of these past lives are... overlapping.
Inanna approaches Babylon regal and proud astride a great lion. Mortals cannot see her but they sense her presence, and the incense rising from her temple grows in volume, the praises and psalms of her priestesses. It is well before the Godswar, when the compact between the deities remains unbroken; while it may not be, strictly speaking, her city, still every one of her sibling gods and goddesses are represented in Babylon, and her priestesses and qadeshim know she comes. The Fertile Crescent is in its glory, and trade caravans flock through the plains and valleys to reach the City of Cities.
It is a very different Babylon which Lilith rides towards -- or rather, she who will become known as Lilith, for the courtship conducted by El Elyon, god of the people of Judah, is still in the future. The harsh heat of the desert clime makes the footsteps of her mount kick up dry dust. Babylon declined many centuries ago, in favor of the younger cities which have risen up. But Babylon, in one form, will always rise again. The Assyrian tyrant, Assurbanipal, has died, and Babylonia has rebelled against Nabopolassar the Chaldaean. The autarchs of Babylon have returned to the oldest ways of their heritage, and Akkadian is again spoken in the streets.
And yet it seems natural that the two riders should know and see each other, even as they approach their own Babylons. For Babylon, it is said, is timeless, in any era and aeon and kalpa.
Mikal blinks, momentarily feeling like she's seeing double -- then she straightens, one hand resting lightly on her dear companion's rough mane where he paces silently along beside her. She tilts her head to glance up at Jareth/Lilith, and smiles, and tucks her other small hand into his. Her voice is soft, almost singsong, "We come in peace, we come in glory, we come in judgement yet again."
Jareth closes hir eyes and takes a deep breath. Lilith/Jareth squeezes Mikal/Inanna's hand and opens hir eyes again to take in the strange doubled vision. The emotions are intense and mixed, sadness and tiredness and joy and relief.
Mikal murmurs in slight surprise, "I guess it's a good thing we're going through someone else's gate -- I think I'm seeing double just now!" A bit curiously she adds, "I wonder what would happen if we went through my gate? Er, I mean Inanna's Gate?"
It is an almost surreal sensation, in that they are approaching the Temples Quarter -- no, they approach Babylon herself, as she is in the Waking. To Mikal, the walls are as if new, whitewashed and pristine and carefully tended and young and new. Banners fly from the ramparts, proclaiming the alleigance to the gods. To Jareth, the walls are older, ancient, storied and mature, yet still timeless. But from both versions the incense smoke rises from the temples as if the single point of identicality between the three perceptions of Babylon. Eventually, as if naturally, the rest of Babylon outside the Temples Quarter fades into memory, and all that remains is the Babylon that stands without the shadow of the Architect looming over it.
Mikal's steps are near silent, but as she approaches the gate she seems to stand taller and walk more proudly. She is Inanna/Ishtar; this is her home. She cannot remember why Mikal is coming here, but she certainly knows why she is here. Her priestesses call to her, she can feel them. The ecstatic drumming and the silver bells, the soft chanting and sweet scents make the rough mane on the back of Raphael's neck rise, but Inanna simply smiles, her eyes dark and luminous.
"I sing your praises as the people parade with silver bells
I sing as the holy drums beat for you
I sing as you ascend in radiance, in exalted dignity
I offer you honey-paste and date-cakes
I offer barley beer and red wine
I offer the seven fruits
I offer cedar leaves and incense
I offer my new moon blood
I offer my pleasure
I offer song
Inanna, Ishtar, to praise you is sweet!
To honor the Divine Lady is sweet!
To celebrate Her abundance is sweet!
You are the Mistress born with Earth and Sky, joy of the people, ornament of the assembly, Lady of the Evening, Lady of the Morning,
You are mighty, you are respected, you are exalted, you are ever new, and your praise is good.
The Lady exalted high as heaven ascends!
The Lady exalted as heaven smiles to us!
The Lady exalted high as heaven
Her greatness spans the borders of the universe!
The Lady ascending watches over us,
May we behold your beauty daily."
Inanna hums softly along with the music she hears calling to her, and her near-pupilless gaze rests on some ineffable distance as she passes through the gate into Babylon.
Jareth smiles down at Mikal, voice a little dreamy, "I have missed this city. She is so dear to me..." He laughs slightly, "I don't have a gate. I just feel like... as if the whole place is mine."
Inanna's luminous smile turns to Jareth, and he can see she's not all Mikal at this moment. Her joyous exhaltation is clear, however -- she too feels strongly about this city.
It is strange to see the two sets of guards -- one, in the older Assyrian style, and the other in the old Sumeran. They do not move at the same time, they do not even seem to open the doors at the same time; the gates aren't even identical. To all the perceptions that the two mortals share, there is a weird sort of blurring. But the call from the parapets, the singing from the temples, rises to new heights as the guards move to open the massive brass gates. And as they look through the gates, they can see that there is no longer any blurring, no longer any double-images or tricks of the light. Babylon before them is whole and unchanging and eternal and timeless. The great banners sweep over the streets, incense rises from the temples. The mighty temple to Marduk lords over the center of the city, the massive ziggurat that Nebuchandezzzar raised up. And the people...! How could such thronging crowds not be heard outside the walls? And yet there they are, busily perusing the marketplaces and sidestreets, the processions of the seven great deities worshipped here passing through courtyards and colonnades, the shouts and calls and drums and trumpets and singing, always the singing...!
Lilith catches her breath happily and laughter bubbles out of her as she steps back into the heart of her city. Her dark eyes are bright and flashing. She doesn't even realize that the transition has happened between the slender and beautiful young bard and the lush and earthy goddess.
Inanna smiles as she glances at the ziggurat still being built. It is another eanna -- one of her holy places. She's pleased the people are improving her home on earth.
She wonders idly, though, why she's processing through the Lugalgirra Gate. She should be processing through her own gate, past the Citadel and the palace where her high priestesses and her galla priests live. Strange. Well, she's here now.
The broad causeway leads to the Euphrates and the wide courtyard of the Esagila, where Babylon's city gods have their temples. The marketplace is bustling at the moment, and voices raised resound through the stalls; to MIkal the voices are in Akkadian and Sumerian, while to Jareth's ear the Semitic tones of Canaanite Aramaic have joined the chorus; it has been only a few years since King Jeconiah and his court were brought in captivity to Babylon, forever changing the faith of those who followed El Elyon and Asherah as their gods.
But both Mikal and Jareth -- and Inanna and Lilith -- can sense something not quite right, in this weird in-between moment where the two eras of Babylon's greatest glory stand. It is merely an unsettling thought at the moment, that there is something not quite at all right.
The goddess frowns, her gaze sweeping the marketplace assessingly. She's had quite enough of wrong-doing through time due to the jealousy of the young Abrahamic deity. If she can tidy up some of his petulant influence, she's going to do so.
Jareth's eyes sweep over a city that he, in his mortal mind, has never seen before the last few days. A city that feels really more like home to him and the goddess-soul inside him than Staunton ever did. And yet, he can tell there is something not right. Something off-kilter and is makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
Mikal spots the flickering figure first. It flickers because it doesn't seem to really be there, and yet she gets the impression that it is more real, more important than the other mortals -- she can tell just by looking at the figure that it is mortal. It appears to be wearing priestly garb.
Inanna narrows her eyes, studying the figure as she continues to pace towards it.
It looks like one of her grandfather An's priests, in fact. She frowns, remembering her peculiar dream of being a priestess in Uruk, when the priests all went mad.
Jareth spots the figure that Mikal/Inanna is pacing towards, and for a moment feels so startled that he almost actually wakes up. He would swear it's O'Hanrahan.
But... O'Hanrahan's a beat cop in Capone's Chicago....
Jareth is a little overwhelmed and so doesn't catch sight of the priest quite as soon as Inanna/Mikal. When zie does, however, zie hs a moment of foreboding. Zie was there in memory when the priest went mad. When it registers who the face is, zie staggers slightly as three mind-images collide.
Inanna puts an arm about her companion's waist, murmuring, "Steady, little sister. We must face him with courage and righteous anger."
Jareth holds onto Mikal/Inanna and swallows hard. "He... I know him. I know him. I didn't recognize him last time, but now I do."
Inanna's voice is firm and angry, "Indeed, as do I. There's been quite enough of these shennanigans going on, and I'll have no more of it! Come, we have some housecleaning to do!"
THe figure drifts through the marketplace, seemingly without direction, and without noticing Mikal or Jareth.
Inanna marches over without hesitation and accosts the man, voice raised in fury, "You! Foul deceiver, unnatural one! You have no right to wear those robes -- get you gone! You are a blight on this fair city!"
The figure seems to come into sharp focus as Mikal accosts him -- and in that moment he is not only the crazed priest from her first memory of Uruk, he is also the Dominican Jorge from Qin. And she gets the impression that he is many, many more persons she has met in her many lives.
The man blinks but once at her voice, then gets a rather grim expression -- before turning and bolting down the street.
Inanna shouts to the crowd, pointing after the man and giving the worst accusation she can for this time and place, "Stop him! He is apostate!"
Mikal manages to trip the man, who goes down in a heap, and raphael leap on top of him quickly, growingly into the man's face. The man shows remarkable fearlessness, but he can't quite seem to throw Raphael off of him.
Jareth goes to his knees by the man, arms shaking as he reaches out and says, "Who are The man does not reply to Jareth, struggling to get the raptor-wolf off of him. This close, the resemblance to O'Hanrahan is more than just remarkable; it is him.
The man continues to ferociously struggle against Rahael, right up until the raptorwolf gets his muzzle around his throat. Then he holds himself still. "Gurgh," he gurgles. "Nice... dog?""
Inanna stands with her fists on her hips, glaring down at the man at her feet. "No. He is not nice. Now. You. Wake up and go away!"
Jareth is stunned. This is not just someone that looks like the cop in Chicago. This is him.
Jareth says, "Wait. No. Don't let him go yet. I have questions."
Inanna folds her arms and glowers, "Very well. Ask quickly!"
Jareth reaches out to feel for this man's heart, "What are you doing here? Who are you?"
The man manages a bit of a shaky grin, though he is acutely aware of Raphael. "Ah... good t' see you again, Betsy. An' how's t'ings goin' for ye?" His accent has changed completely from the Akkadian he was speaking before, to some kind of brogue.
Jareth feels the antagonism from this man. From this mortal. From this creature that has been following him. Following them. The mention of Betsy bubbles up and Jareth feels anger surge in him, "It would be a lot better if I knew why the hell you're sniffing around, you nosy mick."
Raphael growls grimly, although he doesn't shift from his many-fanged hold on the man's neck.
It's immensely incongruous to hear the Akkadian priest of Anu speak like an Irish cop. But then to hear him shift to the stilted formal phrasing of a Dominican priest.... "I thought I recognized you... and you, in Qin." His eyes flick down to Raphael. "And you. You had a lot less teeth back then...." He looks back to Jareth. "I do not know who you are or what you are doing, but I will find out. This is my mission, this is my quest through all my lives."
Inanna shakes her head slowly, "No, mortal. Whomever set you on this fool's quest seeks to harm you." She goes to one knee and rests a hand on the man's shoulder, using her Power to Ward the man from outside interference as she says softly, "Let it go. This is just a dream... nothing important. Just a dream..."
It's Lilith who speaks again, "You have been set against forces that you could never, ever understand. And whoever did it, has set you on this path with no care whether you live or die."
Inanna murmurs almost sadly, "With malice... aforethought."
The old goddess in the young man's body feels compassion for this hapless, angry mortal, "And you have been given rules to live by. Strictures and laws and bindings. And you have not looked and you have not seen. How hard it must be to hate so strongly."
The man -- O'Hanrahan, Jorge, Khor, how many other names has he had? -- struggles to stay asleep, but the Ward from Mikal/Inanna starts to rouse him in the Waking. "No! No, I've still.. I've still so much to do! You can't, you mustn't...! I will find out who you are, it is my purpose, my drive....!" And bit by bit, he starts to become less coherent, less 'there.' And suddenly, he is just a memory, a fading memory in a city that is a memory. Unfortunately, Jareth got no indication that he was being controlled; all that anger and frustration and desire to find out... that was all him. As was the zealotry he had towards the Bull of Heaven.
Inanna sighs, shaking her head. "Crazy man. Fool."
Jareth shakes his head, sighing, "Damn his eyes. What has set this in him?"
Jareth stands up, brushing off his knees, "I feel so strange here. Like there's three of me, all in layers. And at least one of them is very angry at that man." He looks at Mikal and asks, "Do you know what a mick is?"
Inanna has also risen, absently stroking Raphael's ears as she thinks. She shakes her head silently to Jareth's query.
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