Scene #8994: A Fox Among Wolves

Owner	Pose
Madeleine Cadrasteia	Madeleine does not greet Ace herself; instead, a faceless servant in suit and tie waves him over at the warpgate station. He (is it he?) leads the Rider down a hall to a row of lockers and opens number 108, revealing a large standing mirror within. Madeleine's face comes into view on the mirror's surface, as if she were leaning forward from behind the glass. Her hairstyle is a little unusual today - a high ponytail worn slightly to the left side, and a narrow white hairband. For her mid-length curly hair it's an odd choice, but she pulls off the look well enough. She smiles, gently but with a hint of mischief, and one of Madeleine's hands then emerges through the mirror, beckoning for Ace to take her hand and follow through the surface of the glass. As Ace steps through the mirror there is a sensation not quite like falling, and new surroundings assert themselves over the locker's tight confines: a generously sized dining room with white hardwood floor and walls, lined by dark wooden cabinets. An ebony table set for two stands in the center beneath a crystal chandelier, and a large bay window looks out onto a wintry forest of black trees. The reason for Madeleine's sly smile becomes clear as well, when Ace's attention returns to his host. Her outfit for this occasion is an eclectic layering of black and white fabrics, arranged just so to be the spitting image of the Desire Grand Prix's Navigator. It's an outfit obviously designed as a conversation starter, and a sign that Madeleine has done her research about her guest's pursuits. "How do you do," she says with a smirk while gesturing for Ace to take a seat. Dinner's first course arrives without delay, a charcuterie board of cheese, pickled vegetables and olives, assorted breads, and a dark red-brown salami. "Wild boar," Madeleine explains. "Caught it myself, of course. It seems people like us are always chasing after something or another, hm?" She gives Ace a pointed look. It's a clumsy segue, but that may be on purpose.
Desire Stars	Ace Ukiyo arrives in a black satin two-piece suit sans tie, with a white dress shirt and polished ruby cufflinks sporting his initials in gold leaf. A smart-casual look, perfect to impress at a party. "Only the best for me, is it?" Ace asks of the servant, subtly offering a bit of flattery by doing so. "I'm honored." His confident smile doesn't falter even if there's no equivalent on his faceless usher. The first sight of Madeleine draws an amused, intriged 'hohh?' from him--it's hard for someone as perceptive as him to miss the homage even before he's on the other side of the mirror to see her outfit in full. He takes her hand--and even though it isn't their first time meeting, offers, "Enchanté." Stepping through, he flashes her his customary smile, his brown eyes alight with interest as he takes a seat. It seems people like us are always chasing after something or another, hm? "Chasing or being chased," he offers, helping himself to a selection of each feature on the board--it is, after all, the point of charcuterie! "By your outfit, could I infer you think I'm chasing something about the Desire Grand Prix? It's quite a faithful homage." He could tell her, for his own part but it's more entertaining to ask.
Madeleine Cadrasteia	Madeleine digs into the charcuterie after Ace takes his first bites. Perhaps surprisingly, she appears to favor the vegetables, though she may just be saving room for the main course. "Do you think so?" she says, regarding her attire. "I'm flattered. But as for the Prix itself, of course you've got something in your sights. I can't imagine entering such a competition on a lark. And it's something so big the DGP can't grant it in a single swoop, or wouldn't want to... why else would someone go back in for a second round? Besides," she says between olives, "I've heard you say that you're looking for someone. But that isn't what you wrote on your little card, is it? If they were but a single wish away you'd have found them already." A pause. "That's what intrigues me, really. That you won your heart's desire and immediately went back for seconds. An entire wish isn't enough for you, or is just one brick in the tower you're building. Who could be worth risking yourself for in that way? Are you trying to get back someone you've lost? I..." She halts mid-sentence as her eyes widen slightly. When she resumes her tone is grave. "There's one thing I could see myself doing that for. To have again that which was taken from me."
Desire Stars	To have again that which was taken from me. Ace pauses, lowering a slice of salami. His coy, inviting smile fades, and a more serious expression takes its place. "Have you ever asked yourself the question, 'why does someone like me exist?'" He turns the cured meat over, then gives it a try. "I've tried answering it on my own, for a very long time." "It's good," he says, as an aside. "No matter where I looked, or how, I couldn't find what I wanted. So I turned to the one constant--the one person in the entire world who'd know. I did try writing my wish to meet her directly," he begins after it's gone. "But the Desire Card wouldn't take it." He frowns. "It's interesting, isn't it? That they'd grant a wish like 'a post-apocalyptic world,' but not a wish for me to find my mother." "So I started building that tower, like you said. First, the foundation; the wish to participate in the DGP for as long as I live. Then, the first floor; a world where I don't have to work--where I wouldn't have to waste the lion's share of my time on this world working away for someone else's benefit. Next came the one you're most familiar with--a world where I'm a stsr." He smiles, faintly, trying an olive next. "I thought that if I couldn't find her, I could make it impossible to miss me." His gaze wanders around the dining hall, as he's given to a moment of thought. Evidently, that didn't work, either. "What was it that was taken from you?"
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"Have you ever asked yourself the question, 'why does someone like me exist?'" Madeleine's cheek twitches, the first hint of a smirk. "As a matter of fact, I have. But I also know the answer, in my case. I exist as I am because the world I come from was a crime. When its creators pierced the void, they sank the roots of their world-tree deep into the unbeing." She frowns, just a little. "But as a normal tree draws water from the earth, their world fed on the emptiness. In that way I suppose I am a fruit of the tree, with a seed of nothing at my heart. But I cannot return to the soil. When I've tried to become one with nothing, the nothing starts to become something instead. And so I find myself torn between worlds - or between a world and its absence." The second course arrives, bowls of highly seasoned boar ragout; thin strips of meat stewed with vegetables, spices, and herbs, served with a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon. Standing out above the flavor of the pork are hints of fennel, nutmeg, and red pepper. Madeleine does not wait for Ace to begin before taking her first bite; this is what she was waiting for. After a long moment she finds a moment between bites to comment on Ace's tale. "Your mother, hm? To unravel the purpose or meaning of your existence? Interesting. It sounds like you never had a chance to know her, is that so?" A pause. "And a post-apocalyptic world? Is that the wish from one of the other Riders? I wonder what they'd want that for. Humans tend to be quite attached to their societies and comforts - even I've grown rather fond, despite my... unusual demographics." She chuckles at this. "What was it that was taken from you?" Madeleine sets down her fork. Her gaze drifts to the window, to the winter forest outside. "It's like this year-round, you know. And there's a reason for that. I'm sure there used to be life here, but not anymore. What was taken..." She pauses, scratches her cheek in thought. "When someone loses the Grand Prix, their wish is taken from them. What if they lost again, and again, until there was nothing left to take? Until the Grand Prix was all they had, all they knew? I'm... a little like that. But everything lost was taken by force. And instead of the Grand Prix I have my hunting." The huntress looks down at her plate, but little hunger remains in her gaze. She pokes at the stewed vegetables with her fork, idly chasing them around the bowl.
Desire Stars	A brief gesture of thanks is made as the main course is brought out, Ace's palms pressed together and his head inclined forward. It's enjoyed with simple but genuine praise: "Outstanding." Interesting. It sounds like you never had a chance to know her, is that so? "'You'll be happier if you forget about me,'" he says. "I still remember those words, all these years later." Is that the wish from one of the other Riders? I wonder what he'd want that for. "It was. Even if he hadn't been disqualified for his performance, he'd have been ejected for attacking other Riders." Ace pauses to saver the ragout, washing it down with his wine. "Something was taken from him, too--by random chance, rather than by force. But unlike you, he let resentment fester in his heart and decided that everyone else should suffer, too. I hope life without that wish will let him find some peace and happiness." What if they lost again, and again, until there was nothing left to take? Until the Grand Prix was all they had, all they knew? I'm... a little like that. But everything lost was taken by force. And instead of the Grand Prix I have my hunting. "You're a remarkably kind person, if that's the case," Ace says, studying her from across the rim of his wine glass. "The philosopher Lao Tzu would say that all of us are 'the fruit of the tree of emptiness,' as you put it," he continues with a thoughtful frown. "That the nature of nothing is to give rise to something, and the nature of something is to return to nothing. A seed of one exists within the other, giving rise to constant permutations of stillness and motion expressed in the body of our world, the ones before it and the ones that will come after. The sky, marshes, fire and light, thunder, wind and air, water, mountains, the earth..." His thoughtful gaze turns a shade warmer, the corners of his mouth turned up. "I've never seen that tree, but I think at the very least that the people of Lycia are fortunate to know the fragrance of its fruit before it returns to the earth." "Is that what you're hunting? Those desires and wishes--or is it the ones who took them from you?"
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"'You'll be happier if you forget about me,'" Madeleine winces in sympathy. "Do you think she said that to scorn you? Or to protect you from something?" "But unlike you, he let resentment fester in his heart and decided that everyone else should suffer, too." The falling stars in Madeleine's eyes perform a synchronized loop-de-loop. That must have been a roll of the eyes. "Tell me about it. I used to run with a crowd like that, all fury at the world for its wrongness, for the harm it did them. I'm glad I've come to terms with the futility of trying to save the world from itself. Waking up every morning and saying in the mirror 'today's the day I attack and dethrone God' doesn't build healthy habits." "You're a remarkably kind person, if that's the case." Madeleine, who at this point has resumed eating, nearly drops her utensils in shock. "You think so? I've been a proper monster, and I don't think I've changed much since then. Just haven't had much reason to do my usual marauding, is all. Chalk it up to the change of scenery, I suppose." She says, pretending as if the question of 'why am I changing' doesn't keep her up at night. "I think at the very least that the people of Lycia are fortunate to know the fragrance of its fruit before it returns to the earth." "Why, thank you. I do hope I can manage some good there, heaven knows they need it with King Zephiel and that Idunn lady running around stirring up dragons." "Is that what you're hunting? Those desires and wishes--or is it the ones who took them from you?" "Oh, no," Madeleine says, a distant look in her eyes. "The architect of my downfall was too well-protected, too important among my peers for me to touch except as he pleased." A hint of a scowl grows in her expression. "No. Even before I Unified without the rest of my world, I'd had to give up on revenge. And I doubt I could get back what he took if I don't even know the shape of it anymore. All that's left is to keep stumbling forward, because I'm too spiteful to let my curse consume me. I suppose..." She pauses, briefly lost in thought. While she ponders, servants bring in dessert: a dark chocolate tart shell filled with wild berry compote, and topped with whipped cream. "If I could have a wish of my own, it'd be to move on. To become someone new, instead of just the twisted remains of another woman. But I've tried, and I don't know if I can manage that. Though I doubt the Grand Prix could help with it either." She chuckles darkly.
Desire Stars	Or to protect you from something? "The latter," Ace answers. Maybe for the exact reason Madeleine proposed in her hypothetical. Maybe for something else. But he seems certain of his answer. Waking up every morning and saying in the mirror 'today's the day I attack and dethrone God' doesn't build healthy habits. Ace smirks. "No," He admits, looking out the window at the frozen, quiet expanse which stretches on and on. "It doesn't. But it's not unthinkable that someone would feel that way." "The world has beaten me more times than I can count," Ace admits. "There was a time when I thought about trying to save it from itself. Now I just want my world to be in order." He doesn't mean 'his world' in the sense of a place you visit with a Warpgate, she can tell. "Maybe, deep down, that's what most people want--and just aren't able to admit." Chalk it up to the change of scenery, I suppose. Ace smiles at Madeleine. All that's left is to keep stumbling forward, because I'm too spiteful to let my curse consume me. The Star of the Star of the Stars takes to his dessert chastely but consistently, a measured march through rich dark chocolate fields and tart berry marshes. "Your chef is a generational talent," he offers, between paced-out bites. It doesn't do to race through dessert. "And your taste stands shoulder to shoulder with mine." A little tactical arrogance, to keep things just shy of arm's length. "People forget the value of forward momentum," he opines. "Or they assume that letting the wind blow them where it will is the same as taking the steps themselves." "It might be, when this round of the DGP wraps up, you find yourself with an invitation. They tend to seek out people with strong desires. Even if you don't..." "Remember that a seed of 'something' exists within 'nothing.' Seeds have a funny way of growing when we least expect them to, don't they?" He finishes the rest of his wine. "We call them 'weeds' when they grow where we don't want them. But what do they care?" "Why should they? A weed grows, scraggly, spindly, so that hard, unyielding earth becomes just a little bit less so. So that when the weed returns to the earth, maybe a shrub, waxy and sturdy and hardy, can grow in its place; and from there, a sapling, to grow into a tree." He pauses from turning around his empty wineglass in his hand to regard Madeleine with a coy smile. "Something to think about, I guess."