Scene #9259: Emmett, Idaho

Owner	Pose
Madeleine Cadrasteia	BOISE, IDAHO, UNITED STATES The Idaho Capitol Warpgate is a modest outdoor gate standing in a park across the way from the capitol building itself. It's only a five-minute walk to the underground Regional Valley Transit Main Street Station, where a cheery attendant informs the detectives that the bus out to Boise National Forest runs every two hours, on the even-numbered hour marks. CURRENT LOCAL TIME: 1:22 PM Welp. Got some time to kill. When the bus finally arrives there's only a small handful of visitors boarding for the same destination; most of the people interested in fishing or cycling probably bring their own vehicles. From there it's around an hour's drive out of central Boise and north through corn fields and rolling hills to the town of Emmett, on the edge of the national forest. The bus makes its last stop at the Emmett Ranger Office, the better to provide visitors directions and access to transportation from the town into the forest itself. And good thing, too - getting a taxicab out here must be expensive. Madeleine stands outside the office, leaning against a pillar by the entrance. She's doing her best to look imposing with her spiked jacket and platform boots but she's clearly trying a little too hard. The huntress doesn't actually know what the Detectives look like, so she vaguely watches the whole group of disembarking passengers before giving up the search at square one and deciding the Detectives will probably recognize her first.
Distortion Dets.	"The even hour mark... Ezra, were you looking at the wrong service? I thought you said there was one scheduled for 13:30." "Nuh-uh, Detective! I said if we weren't at the warp gate by then, we'd probably miss it!" "Ah... no matter." It's an odd experience to go from excessive customs and checkpoints on one side of a warp gate, to the sprawl and vibrancy of the hub connection points in the middle, and then step back out into customs and checkpoints on the other side. Without even a chance to see outdoors between leaving District 14's nest and arriving in Boise, there's a liminal disconnect that lingers in the air. Checking her own wristwatch, Moses sits back in a too un-padded waiting chair, and glares daggers at the bright red 'non-smoking area' sign posted on a nearby column. "Ezra? Do you have a magazine..?" . . . Ezra, to the charm or ire of other passengers on the bus, 'Ooh's and 'Aah's the entirety of the trip, at city streets, people's fashion, the distant mountains, the cornfields, and the quickly-approaching mountains and forests. Moses, meanwhile, keeps her nose within a notepad, scribbling down bits of notice. Far from a vacation, the energy level between the two on their first foray into the Multiverse couldn't be more different. Ezra and Moses stand out, dressed fifteen shades more stiff than the average American. A jacket draped around the Detective's shoulders flutters in the wind, a fashion statement simply not found here outside crime movies. Madeleine ought have no trouble picking the pair out of the very small crowd who actually make it to the ranger post. That Moses holds a notebook, and hands a paperclipped photograph Ezra's way for confirmation that the punk-dressed huntress is who they're after, serves as a final clue. "Madeleine. Fixer of the Trídéag. I take it my messages got to your desk? A quaint location." 'Messages' being a long string of e-mails send to MCRD accounts, on behalf of the few parties Moses could claim to represent, hoping to question one of their own who'd been present at the Pianist catastrophe. "Might we talk inside?" "Aw, Detective! But it's so pretty outside?" "... The sun is bright, my eyes are tired, and I'd really like to smoke, Ezra. Inside?"
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"Madeleine. Fixer of the Trídéag. I take it my messages got to your desk? A quaint location." "You're those, uh, the detectives, right? Who wanted to see me. I mean, I'm not expecting anyone else today, so." A casual shrug. "Yeah, that's me. Madeleine Cadrasteia, fixer and huntress." She smiles, just a little. "Might we talk inside?" "Aw, Detective! But it's so pretty outside?" "... The sun is bright, my eyes are tired, and I'd really like to smoke, Ezra. Inside?" "No, yeah, sure," Maddie says. "Let's head on in, I think there's a fella in the break room so we'll grab one of the offices. And if you think it's pretty here, uh, Ezra, you should see the forest itself sometime. This is just the ranger office. Nice pins, by the way." Madeleine leads the way inside, through a small reception area plastered with DNR posters about the importance of conservation and into the back hallway, notably devoid of signage relative to the public section of the office. The rangers must get their fill of the propaganda in the public-facing parts of their work lives, or the higher-ups know that anyone working here is already bought in. Past a large green-and-beige wall map of the Boise National Forest, Madeleine and the Detectives pass into a sort of common area/break room. A ranger has his feet up on one of the big folding tables, newspaper collapsed over his face, gently snoring away. "Don't mind him," Maddie half-whispers as she grabs a white paper box bearing the cursive-text trademark of one Blue Ribbon Cafe & Bakery. She leads the Detectives into a nearby office, decorated with paintings of flowers on the walls and a photograph stood on the desk of some local ranger's family. Madeleine drops the paper box on whatever paperwork lies half-sorted on the desk and opens it to reveal a whole five assorted donuts remaining. "Score," she whispers as she claims a chocolate-frosted. Finally taking a seat behind the desk while making a 'help yourselves' gesture at the donuts, she takes a bite, chews thoughtfully, and apparently approving of the rangers' bakery of choice, finishes the bite and looks to the Detectives. "So you wanted to talk about the Pianist, right? What sorta things do you wanna know, and what do you know that might help me put the pieces together with ya?"
Distortion Dets.	'You're those, uh, the detectives,' "Yep yep~!" Ezra jumps to answering. "That's Detective Moses, and I'm Ezra, her loyal sidekick~!!" She goes as far as to point her index finger at herself, even. "'Huntress', hm? Would you mind elaborating?" 'Ezra, you should see the forest itself sometime.' "Oh yeah? What's out there?" Idle chat as she and her detective follow back into the bowels of the ranger station. Moses, once she's inside, produces her ornate pipe from an inside pocket of her coat, alongside a shiny metal lighter. Staring right through the other woman, Moses sees, instead of just Madeleine, the encroaching signs and symbols of her unmet desires and needs, her distortion-in-part. 'Score,' "Huh? Aren't those the sleeping guy's?" A pause, and a sidelong glance to Moses, "Can I have one? I want one- no, two~!" Gloved hands grab the whole of the box, as Ezra stares in, transfixed, deciding which to grab. 'So you wanted to talk about the Pianist, right?' "Mm. Yes, that's correct." Moses settles, restlessly, into one of the opposite-facing seats. "I know you were present, after the Pianist had already been killed. I know you confirmed a few details not obvious from other witnesses and the corpse itself. I hoped to ask first for your personal account of everything you saw, and... out of my own curiosity, whether you left anything out to the Hana representative there." Ezra, off to the side, "Mm-hmphs!" a little affirmative, with a donut (maple frosted) between her teeth. A second later, "The Detective doesn't trust 'em much, so if you didn't either, and left stuff out, then, bingo! That'd be great for us~!" Bright smile, creepy red eyes.
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"'Huntress', hm? Would you mind elaborating?" "Oh, I'd be glad to! I've always had a knack for hunting, but have only been at it as a day job for, hm. Some number of years? Gotta be at least five, right? Anyway, most of that time wasn't with the Concord, I was supporting myself on independent bounty-hunting, human and monster alike. Sea serpents, rogue yeti, roller coasters, that sort of thing. Nowadays I still do that when it's really necessary, but my job's just as much about keeping humans and monsters in balance, instead of hunting one out of house and home to profit the other. It's a funny thing, how time can turn things around on ya." "Oh yeah? What's out there?" "Oh, all kinds of critters!" Madeleine's expression lights up from thoughtful to downright obsessed. "Right now I'm on the trail of some Bigfoots who've been causing trouble around here, putting in too many public appearances, rearranging campsites, that sort of thing. Or I was, already gave 'em a talking-to around lunchtime. Hoooopefully that means they'll know to stop messing around where humanfolk can see, otherwise I may have to introduce them to our relocation incentives. Hunting gets a lot more complicated when you can't just bag whatever - not that I mind the challenge, of course." Moses sees, instead of just Madeleine, the encroaching signs and symbols of her unmet desires and needs, her distortion-in-part. Madeleine is, to Moses's perception, a tree in the grip of winter. Even though its branches are bare it still responds to light, to life - slowly reaching with grasping branch toward that which catches the huntress's attention. "I hoped to ask first for your personal account of everything you saw, and... out of my own curiosity, whether you left anything out to the Hana representative there." "Lessee, what'd I tell them..." Madeleine takes another bite of donut while she thinks. "Right. So some nobody piano-player takes a gig at a bar whose name he didn't even care to remember. Another guy, some drunk, pushes him off the bench, does a better job than the professional. He gets so jealous that he sort of... bangs his head open on the piano, but something lets him keep playing. Way past the point where he shoulda died. Then things get less clear, but we get that big musical disaster, right. Sheet music killin' people, bodies turned into notes, BIG guy at a big piano. Same guy, I know that much. That's all I said to Olivier at the time. What else..." "He was thirty-eight, I remember that much. Lived in the district, did his best to stay pro with the piano playing but was really struggling. Started taking gigs around fourteen, fifteen years ago. Maybe that'll help you narrow down who it was? I don't think he had any family. Oh, right, and the 'point of no return' was when he himself knew that the other guy, the drunk, was a better player than him. When he felt that, something in him opened like a key turning in a lock. I don't know what it was, or how it got there, but it started with that feeling, I remember that much clearly." Madeleine looks up from the donut she'd been staring at in her hand. "Anyway. You ask me, I think it's demonic possession. Something got loose in the City during the blackouts, something that feeds on and amplifies negative emotions. And when it got hungry, it found a random guy who was ripe for a crisis and pounced on 'im. I don't think there was anything special about who exactly it was. Kinda worrying that the spirit might still be out there... has something like this happened again? Is that why you're here?"
Distortion Dets.	'I've always had a knack for hunting, but have only been at it as a day job for, hm. Some number of years? Gotta be at least five, right?' "And you do Fixer work under the Outsider Association, as well. Mm. But your organization here is curious, these monster-hunters. Do you do consulting work, or work within the city under a banner other than Trideag? 'Monsters' are becoming more and more an important subject within the City, with the blackouts, and everything else." 'Right now I'm on the trail of some Bigfoots' "Wow!! I don't know what that is." Ezra finishes off her donut, then fishes around the box, not yet deciding on her second. 'So some nobody piano-player' Ezra's eyes go wide, and Moses' gaze focuses in. "Wait, you really do have the insider info on stuff before everything went all ka-pow? Detective..." Moses returns her assistant's glance, pressing her pen to her notepad. "This is useful." 'Maybe that'll help you narrow down who it was?' "I have no intention of finding out the name of a murderer's corpse. The feelings and circumstance... those matter more. A scorned, jealous man, grasping out for renown and attention? Is that cogent, Ezra?" "That's one kind of spectacle, I guess~!" "Mm. Distorting further and further, a desperate life ending in futility... I can imagine the type of rage he must have held. Sickening." "Would that I could have seen him before he opened up that 'lock' ... no matter. One can't undo the past." Ezra tentatively pats Moses' shoulder, as the Detective presses a thumb into her temple, brushing salt-and-pepper hair strands aside in the motion. "Madeleine. Can you procure information like this again, on other people? What method do you use?" 'Anyway. You ask me, I think it's demonic possession.' Moses raises a thin eyebrow. "I'll answer your questions after you elaborate a bit on your suspicion. 'Something got out'? Why does that come to mind? Have you seen something similar before?" Moses puts her pipe to her lips, and breathes out a thick cloud of acrid pipesmoke shortly after. "This has happened other times, albeit less destructively. The Pianist was likely not even the first. I am here because I've taken it upon myself to investigate the phenomenon, to understand it in cause, form, and significance."
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"Do you do consulting work, or work within the city under a banner other than Trideag? 'Monsters' are becoming more and more an important subject within the City, with the blackouts, and everything else." Madeleine would perk up more if she could manage it; as is, she's already pretty high-energy from the subject matter. "We haven't really made inroads with the City yet here at the Division, neither Head nor Wings are comfortable letting us set up camp so to speak," Maddie explains, "But they can't stop me from working as a Fixer and collecting data on the side. So yes, I think? You might have to go through Trideag to hire me, but I'm sure if you requested someone with my expertise the Director would--" A pause. "Maybe you should ask for me by name, say you got the recommendation via word of mouth. I've already done a few jobs around the City's native monsters, so it'd make enough sense." "Wow!! I don't know what that is." "Oh! Well, the exact nature of a Bigfoot varies from one world to the next, but they're generally some kind of ape-man - that is to say, a bipedal primate similar to a homo sapiens. They're named for their feet, of course; they're good at staying out of sight when they want to, so usually all folks find is footprints. But not me! I'm an expert." On feet? "Wait, you really do have the insider info on stuff before everything went all ka-pow? Detective..." "This is useful." Maddie relaxes a little in her seat, clearly enjoying the position of slightly-smug expert witness. She finishes her donut and licks her fingertips clean as Moses speculates aloud. "Madeleine. Can you procure information like this again, on other people? What method do you use?" "Well, uh." 'Trade secret' probably won't cut it with these two. Madeleine steeples her fingers and takes a breath just deep enough to betray her nerves. "Haruspicy. The divination of entrails. You can learn a lot from a body, if you pay the right sort of attention and know what the signs are. I don't think I could teach you to do it as well as I do, and, well. It only works like that on the dead. I can still identify and track down living people from blood samples, but my keenest methods are only really applicable in the... aftermath, of events like the Pianist disaster." A brief but definitely sheepish smile. "In a way I'm sort of a forensics expert." "I'll answer your questions after you elaborate a bit on your suspicion. 'Something got out'? Why does that come to mind? Have you seen something similar before?" "Well, I was talking with folks at the scene and someone guessed maybe I Corp had something in a vault somewhere that got out during the blackouts. But honestly I think it's more likely that something else got in during the blackouts, into the City from another world. 'Cuz this sort of thing definitely wasn't happening before the City connected to the Multiverse, right? The City might not normally have demons that can possess people but other places sure do. I should know, I've been to Hell itself." After a brief pause for effect, Madeleine continues. "Or a Hell, at least. They've got an interesting racket there - they love everyone, down to the most wretched and repulsive people, and they love every part of everyone. So they'll encourage your worst impulses as much as your best ones... that's what I'm reminded of when I think about what the Pianist's body showed me. This man's drive and jealousy, amplified, projected out onto the world as a physical calamity. Where I'm from we'd call that sort of event a miracle gone wrong, but it being a miracle doesn't mean it's impossible to explain." "This has happened other times, albeit less destructively. The Pianist was likely not even the first. I am here because I'v
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"This has happened other times, albeit less destructively. The Pianist was likely not even the first. I am here because I've taken it upon myself to investigate the phenomenon, to understand it in cause, form, and significance." "I see. I guess something real strange happens, a miracle goes wrong or whatever, people are gonna pay real good for answers, huh? Up to the Wings, even, if this sort of thing ever threatens a Nest. I bet you've got clients lining up, if the Pianist was just one of many." Madeleine gives Moses a little smile, hinting perhaps unsubtly that the huntress may want a piece of that pie as well.
Distortion Dets.	'You might have to go through Trideag to hire me,' "I don't plan on going through another Association, if I need to. I'd ask you directly if I do. Consider that your 'inroad' and figure it out from there." 'Well, the exact nature of a Bigfoot varies from one world to the next, but they're generally some kind of ape-man' "Hmmm. So there's a lot of those types? Huhhh. I don't think the City's got them..." 'I'm an expert.' Ezra squints down at Madeleine, an indeterminate expression on her face. ' I don't think I could teach you to do it as well as I do,' "What do you use to do it? What sort of tool? The Detective and I set aside a big whole chunk of our budget for gear, and... nyehhh, a lot of what we've got is good, but that sounds waaay more useful than a lot of stuff we pick up! Where'd you get it? It's something people still produce, and sell, right, or am I going to have to find a collector... hey, do you know that kind of collector, Madeleine? You gotta say so! I-" "Ezra, she hasn't answered you." "Ope..." Guilty-looking, she finally picks up a donut- strawberry jam filled, and bites into it. 'It only works like that on the dead.' "Ah. Disappointing, for some purposes. Still useful. Ezra, I think I'll have you start to keep samples, when we have to spill blood. We still have those..." She snaps her fingers once, twice, "Those older evidence kits down in storage had nice vials. Start packing those." "Right, Detective! I'll remember." "I'll make a note." "But I'll remember!!" "Mm." 'But honestly I think it's more likely that something else got in' "I'll stop you there. To the best of my knowledge, this is more of a condition of the City, now. I have my own 'tools' I can't teach, that lead me to believe that. This phenomena grows within people, until circumstances demand it spring forth. Desperation, need, emotion... such as that preformer's, I suppose. It's in each and every other person I've come across. No exceptions." 'they love everyone, down to the most wretched and repulsive people, and they love every part of everyone.' "... Mm. Curious. That may be more congruent than I thought. 'A miracle gone wrong' is an interesting phrase. I'd like to hear more, though perhaps it isn't relevant right now. Another time?" 'I bet you've got clients lining up,' "Hah."
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"I don't plan on going through another Association, if I need to. I'd ask you directly if I do. Consider that your 'inroad' and figure it out from there." "Isn't Trideag supposed to be the source for all off-world Fixer work? I guess, I don't mind doing work 'off the books', I know how to keep a low profile." A shrug. "Hmmm. So there's a lot of those types? Huhhh. I don't think the City's got them..." "Yeah, you've got all your own sorts of monsters mostly. Your gnomes are weird, your mermaids are weird, all that sort of thing. That's why I'm keen on doing more research about the anomalous wildlife there." "What do you use to do it? What sort of tool?" Maddie waits for Ezra to take a breath, then reaches down to her belt and unfastens her knife sheath. Instead of drawing a blade on relative strangers, she opts to place the sheathed hunting knife on the table. It's well-crafted but simple, with a dark wooden handle and no moving parts. "Buck makes good knives, but the secret's not in the knife - it's in knowing what you're looking at." She pauses to collect her thoughts, uncertain how much of her background is worth explaining. She eventually settles on 'none of it'. "I could try to teach you about the secret signs, how to translate the vague suggestions into incontrovertible truth - but they don't really have 'magic' in the City, or not before the Pianist and his ilk. Who knows, maybe things're changing and you could learn somethin' useful." "This phenomena grows within people, until circumstances demand it spring forth. Desperation, need, emotion... such as that preformer's, I suppose. It's in each and every other person I've come across. No exceptions." "Everybody, huh... I wonder what makes some people spark off like that, if anyone could do it." "Another time?" "Sure thing," says Maddie as she stands to show the Detectives out. "If you need help with strange or fearsome critters, you know who to call, yeah? Good meeting you, glad we could make a little more sense of what happened. Y'all take care now." She leads the duo back through the hall, depositing the box of leftover donuts on the table near the still-slumbering park ranger. Madeleine takes a seat at the front desk as the Detectives leave the building, her entire fashion sense clashing with the established sensibilities of the room. A punk-rock park ranger. Who'd've thunk.