RP:Amen

Part of the Through A Glass, Darkly Arc

Summary: (This RP is an IC secret and for OOC knowledge only.) Hudson and Valrae are called to a safe house late at night. A woman has killed one of Hudson's men and is in a frenzy over Candice Snow's death. After some interrogation, it is revealed that Glenna was the woman behind Cramer's mask and, in a fit of rage over her lovers death, she has come to make her final attempt at destroying both of them. After a struggle, Hudson kills Cramer's golem and Valrae condemns the traitorous witch's soul to eternal suffering.

Safe House

Hudson had gone on with his life after the infamous Candice Snow. He had taken a quiet ride back to the estate he and his wife lived on, with their children. There he had barbecued out on the pool deck and talked Cubbies baseball with his daughter Harper, still cagey from the damage done, but cautiously ready to turn a corner and forgive him, if her mother had. They had all sat down to dinner together, and he and Alvina had made jokes as if nothing happened. As if he hadn't buried Candice Snow alive in a pine box, as if Alvina hadn't snapped the neck of her young daughter Aubree, caught in the wrong place and at the wrong time. And after enough pretending, it all began to feel real. And life went on normally, and they all forgot about Candice Snow. ...Until Hudson's captains summon him to a safe house, having recovered a slight woman in her late 20s from Candice's home, which remained under surveillance out of an abundance of caution. The woman had been incandescent with rage upon being discovered, he's told, a witch, who had killed one of his guys with a fatal spell before she had finally been subdued. Hudson arrives as quickly as he can - the death of one of his people is not a joke, the man had a family and had been a good employee - and greets his second in command, Milo, at the door. "I brought in Red," the lieutenant informs him as they descend the stairs to the cold basement, the only part of the house that's sealed in with magic, where someone could scream until their lungs burst and no one would hear it. "I didn't have time to confirm you didn't mind." A sharp intake of breath. "She's going to want to hear this."

Valrae || It had been quite some time that Valrae had received any sort of summons from Hudson or one of his men. It had taken her by surprise, as she stood in an old robe with her son on her hip, to be called upon by a name she’d almost forgotten. The worry came first, left her moody and on edge as she called for Belinda to take Fynn and settle him to bed. She dressed quickly and simply, black cotton pants and a loose tunic shirt underneath a long black coat. She didn’t bother retouching the faded makeup she’d yet to clean from her face or to comb her hair before she threw it into a high pony. Comfort and a touch of carelessness often kept her from bothering to add a layer of glamour over her features when she was home, in Cenril underneath the still shining barrier of witch magic. Quickly grabbing her oversized purse, she followed Hudson’s man out into the drizzling rain and to the safehouse with her hood up and her head low. Endearingly, her chauffeur held an umbrella for the both of them and made small talk about the weather and her son. Not long after Hudson’s arrival, Valrae descends into the chilled basement clutching her purse and frowning in anticipation. She hadn’t had the luxury of being filled in yet but Val was no stranger to working in the dark. Before her eyes find Hudson, she's greeted with the unhinged screams of the mysterious woman. Bound by both conventional means and magical, a young woman struggled vainly against her restraints. Her designer cocktail dress was stained heavily with blood, though none of it appeared to be her own, and her mascara ran in dark lines down her face and she was missing a heel. Speechless for a moment, Valrae pauses at the end of the stairs with her lips parted. It took only a moment for the bound woman to recognize her though, and the room fell abruptly silent. “Valrae!! You must be Valrae,” The mystery woman collapses in on herself, suddenly still and shrinking. “Please, please help me. I don’t know why I’m here or why these men have taken me,” Eyes wide, she looks toward Hudson and Milo. “Witches are supposed to be safe in Cenril,”

Hudson can barely hear Milo over the screaming of the woman they'd taken captive. What honestly is the meaning of this? Why had this deranged woman come at one of his men, and why was she in Candice's home? It's late, he'd left dinner early. He and Alvina have always been good about maintaining the veneer of legitimate work emergencies with the kids, but he knows that later she'll have questions. And he'll have to have answers, especially if "Red" aka Valrae is coming. "You're right to get her," he tells Milo, his footfalls slowing as he crosses the room to appraise the young woman in restraints. He doesn't recognize her, but Valrae would, she's one of them after all. The woman is strapped to a chair at least, though covered in blood, unclear if hers or their fallen comrade's. Hudson grimaces at the piercing yet simultaneously guttural cry she emits upon his entrance. "Shut her up," he tells Milo, who promptly backhands her. It doesn't do anything except make her release another shrill whine. There are footsteps on the stairs, and Hudson turns in time to see Valrae descending. "Thanks for coming, I just learned you'd be here myself," he shouts at her by way of greeting. His eyebrows come up as the bound woman reacts by recognizing her, which is a welcome and interesting development. What's less welcome is the pleading that follows. Milo is already on the case with a gag in hand. "Sorry you have to see this," says Hudson to Valrae, still speaking loudly as the woman emits muffled cries, trying to bite the lieutenant but to no avail. The gag has a magical component and when finally in place the room is immediately transformed into a grim silence. "We found her in Candice Snow's house, apparently," says Hudson, eyeing the captive witch, now sagging with defeat, rage boiling in her deadened gaze, "I assume you know who Candice Snow is." He won't explain to Valrae what she's probably already read in the gossip section of the papers. The pretty blond, former Rynvalian actress of great reknown, whom he supposedly slept with. Who is now mysteriously unavailable for any type of comment, speculated to have fled the city with her young child to avoid media scrutiny. Maybe Valrae could read between the lines. "She wouldn't go quietly and killed one of my guys," Hudson continues. He glances at Valrae. "He has a family, you know. Who is she? And why would she be at Candice Snow's place, you know?"

Valrae, as it might become evident by the bewildered look that crosses her face, doesn’t recognize the woman that is quickly gagged and silenced. She blinks slowly, her eyes never moving from the strange witches face as Hudson quickly fills her in, in his way. And she could read between the lines. She nods without comment, suddenly animated again as she takes her hand off of the banister and moves toward them slowly. “I don’t know her,” She admits, giving both men a sideward glance. “Not all witches know each other,” She mutters, half in annoyance and half in exasperation. “Plenty of people, witches and the rest that I’ve never met, know my name.” Valrae brushes some of the woman's hair from her face gently, rolling her eyes when she flinches away. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Probably. Milo helpfully offers Valrae the woman’s purse. The witch ildy wonders if it was some engrained male politeness that had kept him from combing through it before she’d arrived but knows better than to ask. The gagged stranger begins struggling against her restraints again, clearly having given up on the guise of innocents. There was lipstick, a wand, a coin purse… “Candice,” Valrae holds up a small portrait of Candice, shaking it slightly. “She could just be a fan..?” She glances over her shoulder and shrugs. A mirror, a book… Valrae flips idly through the scribble filled pages. What started as neat record keeping had slowly devolved. A gasp tumbles past her lips as she recognizes the names of witches that had been missing or found dead in the past year, along with notes on wealthy benefactors and requests for “types” of women and girls for… What? Val skims the notes and flips to the end, quickly searching through lines filled with rage and hatred. Hudson’s name, along with a few very colorful and unkind adjectives, was featured quite heavily. “More than a fan,” She confirms out loud, looking toward the other witch again. “You’re working for the Witch Hunters… And with Candice,” She says to Hudson. “She loved her,” The witch begins to weep bitterly. “Milo, could you ungag her, I want to ask a few questions.”

Hudson takes a little attitude from Valrae about not knowing the witch. Not a lot of people would give him attitude so brazenly like this in Cenril. It's a testament to their history that Valrae can. He reacts by grunting and wearing a put-upon expression. He watches her take the woman's purse and begin rifling through it with such a singular focus it feels intentional. He self-importantly wonders whether the attitude was a shot fired over Candice Snow. Things have long been professional between himself and Valrae but that doesn't mean that she couldn't be petty. He's not sure whether he feels like clarifying the record either. Maybe he could be petty too. Or maybe it's just late and they both don't want to be here. Still, this is one of her people after all, it's a courtesy that she's here at all. Valrae unearths a miniature of Candice, and Hudson snorts to see it. "Great," he says dryly. One of his men was murdered by a superfan slash superstalker of Candice Snow. Except that's not it, Valrae's found something more interesting, a small ledger of sorts. He approaches to read over her shoulder, not asking if she minds. What's she going to say, anyway? Not a ledger, more like a diary. He manages to read the last few pages alongside Valrae. Women's handwriting is always so tidy. This woman hates him. And believes he killed Candice. (Well, he did.) And Candice was .. her lover, he and Valrae come to the same realization at the same time. Hudson meets her eye and takes a step back, gesturing that Milo step in. It's all the more disturbing that the diary also reveals the woman's involvement in the witch hunts. He pulls up a chair, the wood scraping harshly against the floor. "Murderer!" comes the woman's frayed scream as soon as the gag is right. "Shut up and answer her questions," Hudson is quick to snap at her. He sits. "You want to know where Candice is? Then start talking."

Valrae, if pressed, would probably say her boldness came from the late hour. She’d much rather be at home tucking her son in bed. The truth was probably a little more tangled than that though. So she took small shots and pressed her luck, knowing the line and comfortable with her place in the grand scheme of things. While Milo and Hudson move, Valrae casually slides the little book into her purse and moves to stand behind Hudson’s seat. Her brows wing in surprise at the witch’s scream. “Careful,” She warns, rather uselessly as it would hardly calm her and no amount of good behaviour would save her now. She starts with a softball. “What's your name?” The other witch’s eyes gleam meanly. “Glenna, but you know me by another name.” Valrae settles her face into carefully crafted boredom. “Alright Glenna, now I want to know why you’re keeping a list of missing witches.” Glenna laughs. It echoed around the spartan, dirty room menacingly. “Because I’ve either sold them or killed them,” Glenna admits abruptly. Valrae can feel her temper rising but it doesn’t break the outward surface of calm. “Are you working with Cramer? Against your own people?” The incredulity seeped through to her tone. “Why?” Cramer only laughs again, but the sound is swallowed by a commotion that’s started at the top of the stairs. Suddenly, a tall man is tumbling down the stairs, grappling with one of Hudson’s men. They grunt loudly, bloodied from the fall and successful blows. As quickly as Val can turn, the stranger snaps the other man's neck and is standing again, stumbling wildly toward Hudson with his hands outstretched. His eyes were eerily empty, his face inhumanly slack. With her back turned to Glenna, Valrae doesn’t see as the other witch suddenly springs free of her bindings, with a shocking blast of magic, she sends Milo flying across the room and grabs a fist full of Valrae’s hair, pulling her to the ground harshly. “You little-” The was screaming, some of it Val’s, as the other witch descends on her and rakes at her face with long, crimson nails. She manages to bloody Valrae’s arm that was thrown up in defense. “You nasty, weak blooded excuse for a witch!” Glenna continues to strike, magic and fury behind her blows. Valrae defends her face, struggling for the ash wand tucked away at her side. “I’m not working for the witch hunters,” Glenna screams, shoving Valrae’s arm away and wrapping her hands around her throat. “I AM the witch hunters. Do you think a man could accomplish all I did?!” Struggling for air now, Valrae’s struggle to find her wand turns frantic. “I’m Cramer! I’m the one that made it possible for you to pull together a coven,” Glenna’s nails dug crimson half moons into Valrae’s skin as her hand slipped into her bag. Her fingers brush the emerald skull..

Hudson never ceases to be surprised by how people's demeanors shift in the moments after they realize they will die. Glenna's transformation from blubbering victim to sneering killer is no less impressive. Hudson is very still in his seat, aware of a heat spreading over his forearms as Valrae's questioning grows more accusatory. The momentum of it is interrupted by a sound at the stairs, and Hudson gets to his feet, in time to see one of his men go limp, his eyes roll back into his skull. In that moment Hudson doesn't make a conscious decision to become the Wolf, but it is the Wolf, in its most terrible form, that launches itself at the man, or creature, for its face is only blankness as claws shred its throat. Milo, momentarily stunned from the impact of hitting the wall, wastes little time in shifting himself, and with a snarl joins the alpha of his pack, who is bloodied but himself unharmed. Valrae. The shared thought pulses between them. Growling, they slowly turn their hulking bodies, consider the women fighting, the tangle of hair and pink skin. The wolf that is Milo stretches with menace, but Hudson has already sprung forward, tearing Glenna free from Valrae with violence. He flings her across the room so that her body collides with the stone wall. Her skull connects first, and she's still dazed when Milo looms over her, all eyeteeth, breathing death into her face. Hudson is right behind him.

Valrae’s vision begins to spot as her hand finds the skull. Dark power pulses from the tips of her fingers and through her. Suddenly Glenna’s weight is lifted.. It takes her only a heartbeat to recover, the witch surging to her feet quickly, the emerald skull in her hand. Air filled her lungs again and burned her throat. Stunned, Glenna falls slack at Milo’s warped feet. With the smallest motion of her wrist, she sends a blaze of magical fire toward Valrae. Her last shot before an inevitable death. The fire strikes her and she feels the heat roll around her. Valrae steps through the fire unburned, hair flying wildly as she raises the emerald skull in her hand. With dark power and heat boiling through the air, the witch steps forward and holds a hand aloft, hoping to still Milo before he can make a death blow. “For your crimes I curse you,” Valrae hisses, her voice harsh and quiet from the damage that had been done moments before. “With the blood of our sisters, the ones you betrayed, I curse you,” She kneels, grabbing a fist full of Glenna’s hair, forcing her to meet her eyes. “You will never find peace. You will never rest.” Pulling a small blade from her boot, the witch grips it tightly in her hand. “I bind your soul to this body,” Slowly, drawing dark, ancient power from the skull in one hand, she carves a swirling, bloody sigil into the woman’s forehead as she screams. “Rot for eternity.” And finally, dragging the blade through her throat, Valrae ends it.

Hudson roars in Glenna's face, snapping his teeth, but the killing blow doesn't belong to him. Nor does it belong to Milo. A primordial power permeates the room, and the wolves are held at bay by it, growling through bared teeth as Valrae approaches, stepping between them. They give her the space, pacing as Valrae writes the woman's death into her skin. A dark and unfriendly magic crowds the air around them, beating them back as the killing blow falls from Valrae's knife. The wolves have become men, unknown to them, by the end of it, surprised by their own nakedness. Milo trips over the body of the man that had attacked Hudson, and then watches as it vanishes before his eyes. Hudson has found a pair of gym shorts that wasn't shredded. (Not his, but they're his now.) "Get help," he hisses at Milo, who doesn't need to be told. He takes the stairs two at a time. The room still reeks of magic, and Hudson watches as Valrae steps back at long last and Glenna's face collapses into itself, turning black, a decay that spreads like a conflagration throughout her entire body until it in a matter of moments becomes ash. And then she is gone. A silence hangs over them. "Are you OK," Hudson asks, laying the question flat between them.

Valrae feels numb and somehow not. The power that pulses through her is black, foreign and not her own. The bloodied knife drops from her hands and blade strikes the floor loudly, muffed under the ringing in her ears. Glenna’s body decays before her, leaving nothing but yellowed bone and black ash. Oblivious to Milo and Hudson’s nakedness, the witch takes a step forward and crushes the skull beneath the heel of her boot. And then Hudson’s voice finds her. Before the dark magic can swallow her she is brought back to the room. She blinks again, the skull suddenly hot and uncomfortable in her hands. “I-” She turns, eyes wide and hands bloody. “Yes,” Her voice croaks. Moving quickly, she wipes the blood on her pants and finds her bag, shoving the crystal skull in quickly. It was hard to meet his eyes. The silence that hung in the room was as oppressive as the magic that still clung to the cold air. There was a sense of finality too, crouching in the room between them. Finally, the witch moves her eyes to Hudson and she nods. “Thank you,”