RP:An Ice Water With Lemon

Part of the Laugh Now, Cry Later Arc

Summary: Hudson and Brennia catch up at the hotel bar at the Six Seasons hotel, his new favorite place to hold court. Hudson wonders aloud the longevity of Mayor Uma Abelin in Cenril: she’s under fire in the press for how she’s been handling the outbreak of a sickness that’s turning Cenril’s most vulnerable members into the living dead. Brennia, who has political aspirations in Schezerade, wonders if maybe a helping (or, rather, flying) hand could be extended to take some of the pressure off of the mayor. In return, Hudson gives her some ideas for infiltrating the Flewminati, her opposition in Schezerade.

Hotel Bar, the Six Seasons on the Boardwalk, Cenril

Hudson has been back in Cenril for a few weeks now. Not at home in the mansion he'd shared with Alvina and their family. Rather, Hudson is living out of the presidential suite in the Six Seasons, the same luxury waterfront hotel at which he'd gotten married many years ago. Presently, he is at the hotel bar, a beautiful space with tasteful glass and wood fixtures. They know him there, of course, he has a corner booth at which he and his people hold court. He takes nearly every meal save breakfast there, and afternoon coffee too. That’s what he is doing presently, drinking an espresso and reading the paper, flattened against the table. The headlines are the same ones they've been all week: critical of Mayor Uma Abelin, describing the virus' spread among Cenril's most vulnerable citizens.

Brennia is a wreck on the inside. The bard cannot believe that she has decided to put her life in danger with the Flewminati and publicly run for senator for Schezerade after four years and when she just sent her bodyguard back to Alithrya because there has been trouble back home for him. Keeping herself unnecessarily busy has been distracting her from the nerves and being on the move all the time helps keep the Flewminati guessing where she is… at least that is her logic currently. Today, she is alone and after a little visit with the Isran Collective, she stops by the Six Seasons to check on any word left for the bard's guild, but also to make sure the room reserved for any guild members is up to snuff and well stocked in cade any drop by. With the soft click of heels, she approaches the counter and unfastens the button holding her floor length suit jacket shut, thus revealing the thin long sleeve shirt tucked into high rise suit pants that are wide legged, very former first lady 2021 inauguration lewk. Her hair is left down in soft curls and the avian tucks some of the thick hair behind a long tapered ear. After a short discussion, she turns to see a familiar face and with a warm smile poking dimples in her caramel cheeks, she approaches Hudson's table, "greetings, Mister Landon." Slipping the black leather gloves off her tattooed hands to shove them into the inside pocket of her suit jacket while waiting to be invited for a seat if he wishes it.

Hudson is just finishing his espresso when the sound of heels on a marble floor lift his attention from the day’s headlines. He cracks a grin for an old friend as she draws near. “Brennia,” he says her name with pleasure. He gestures that she should be seated, and makes a signal to a very attentive waitress to come over and take her drink order. He’s a VIP here. His guests will be treated as such, too. “It’s good to see you,” he says warmly as she situates herself comfortably. “I saw your duel in Frostmaw,” he lifts his eyebrows. “I’m sorry you lost, I was rooting for you.” He moves his cup to the side for the waitress to pick it up on her way out after taking Brennia’s order. “How are you doing?”

Brennia maneuvers her large black wings to fold in properly to accommodate her offered seat and that broken wing is mostly healed, but doesn't move as fluidly as the other one, "thank you, Hudson." Now that she is close enough, he will pick up his favorite scent coming from her like any avian. An embarrassed little grin shapes her full lips and her ears turn a shade of pink, "oh, you did see that? A foolish attempt to seem strong." Brennia doesn't really fill out her old campaign suits like she used to, the avian is visibly much thinner than Hudson might remember, but who is really keeping count. "Luckily, I was fighting a friend of mine, Thamalys," a polite nod to the waitress is given as her smoky alto timbre orders, "an ice water with lemon, please." It has been some time since she has seen Alvina and her heart aches for her best friend whenever she happens to see Hudson and she is afraid to ask about her this time. "It is good to see you as well. I am great," that well practiced fake smile spreading a little wider, no one actually cares what is really going on after all. "Elections are opening up in Schezerade again. My friend Uriphiel and I are looking to make big changes here soon… that is if things go smoothly." A raspy short giggle bubbles up because that is never how these things go, is it?

Hudson keeps an easy, relaxed demeanor but notices that Brennia, for her part, does not. Unlike her. There’s a timidity that he doesn’t quite recognize. Perhaps something with her wing? He doesn’t know if it’s polite to ask, so he doesn’t. “Glad to hear you’re doing well,” he says, putting his hand over his water glass so that he doesn’t get another refill. One had to do such things or one would end up with a glass that was 95% ice cubes and 5% water. He nods at her reference to the upcoming election in Schezerade. “Are you still into politics then?” he asks her. “Pretty frustrating vocation to be in these days, if the bad news coming out of the papers in Cenril are any indication. You guys aren’t seeing any cases of that virus are you?”

Brennia has been knocked down by life and bitch slapped around quite a bit lately. Fake confidence, fake smiles and fake security has been going a long way for her lately, but who gives a merde. "Yes, yes. And you? How about you?" It is impolite not to ask how someone is doing in return. One of her hands rests idly on the table and every once in a while there is a very subtle tremble when she isn't one hundred percent focused, but the other hand keeps a hold on her glass of cool water and she raises it to her lips to take a generous sip. "I…" she pauses, not really sure how to phrase things diplomatically. "If I want to improve upon Schezerade after Kahran's forces left it in shambles and keep the nation free of the Flewminati's clutches I am, yes," she tilts her head as her solid teal gaze glances to find who just gasped at the mention of the cult. Yeah, she said it, so?! When he inquires about the virus, the bard's expression shifts to a more thoughtful one as silence rests between them for a small moment. "Not that far from Schezerade, no. Avians cannot contract diseases like vampirism or lycanthropy," unlike most avians, brennia is accepting of those with fangs. "So, I think it is safe to say avian's are immune, but I have noticed an uptick in students who reside in Cenril deciding to stay on campus at the bard's college."

Hudson ‘s mouth twists into a smirk as Brennia turns the question back on him. “Doing just dandy,” he answers in perhaps the same genre of carefully constructed cheer that she had. Perhaps he and Brennia were fellow travelers who were both well versed in the art of pulling a tapestry over a pothole. His problems were a bit more obvious though, the Landons have been in the paper too much over the last few years. Alvina biting someone, being jailed, then freed, Hudson having an affair with that famous actress Candice Snow, who mysteriously disappeared after the news broke. It wasn’t a great set of facts to add to the open secret that was his real business behind the real estate front. And beyond that, the news of Cenril’s zombie problems and the criticisms of its mayor were at this point widespread, literally published in the paper. Can’t suppress what everyone knows, Cenril is an alleged democracy with freedom of speech and after a point it becomes too obvious, his shadow influence. One had to choose one’s battles, and Hudson was starting to wonder whether maintaining Uma made less sense than replacing her. The waitress approached with Brennia’s drink, and he gave the woman a perfunctory nod to suggest she shouldn’t linger, they were fine here. Brennia reveals that Schezerade has become a relief center of sorts for those with the means to flee the spread of sickness in Cenril. “I’m not surprised,” he says. “Quite honestly I believe werewolves are immune or I’d have considered something similar.” Would he though? Or would he want to be on the ground, as he is now, making the city feel his presence. “What’s going on with the Flewminati?”

Brennia isn't one to believe in the gossip that goes around and she wholeheartedly believes her friend's word over anything. That word is that Hudson and Alvina have a deep well of passionate love, beautiful children and a wonderful home. Even the more dark rumors are not met with judgement from the avian and he probably knows this due to their past dealings. "I think it is more that they cannot go home seeing as Cenril is under a sort of quarantine, but I do keep a watchful eye on my students to make sure they are feeling okay," as for any Cenril citizens that are not her students and happened to have made it as far as Schezerade, she trusts the magical beam to keep any infected grounded. "You know. I am sure Uri - phiel Shar," making sure to not say the nickname in front of others now, "could extend some of the Schezerade military here to help in order to spare some of the more susceptible citizens if I ask him nicely." There is a sort of more genuine grin on her lips, an excuse to bother Uri is always good in her opinion. Then the subject changes to the dreaded Flewminati, "nothing yet." She glances around to make sure they are out of earshot and then she leans in with a lowered tone, "starting up another election is our way to sort of draw out any of those cowards in hiding." Then she leans back into her chair as she was before, "I just have a feeling they are not done with their torment of Schezerade. They are power hungry fools, you remember one of their many scare tactics," right as they left a blitzball game, she had been attacked by a member and Hudson had to help her out.

Hudson lifts his eyebrows as Brennia reveals a level of familiarity and then catches herself with this Uriphiel Shaw, whom he doesn’t believe he’s met. He grins openly at her. “Just what we need, boots on the ground from elsewhere,” he comments dryly. “In all seriousness, as you know, I’m not a politician, but I wonder if someone’s suggested it to the Mayor.” Maybe he would. “She’s getting very bad press,” he notes. Probably because she was backed into a corner, with no end or solution in sight. It was impossible not to get egg on her face, and that’s why she was starting to seem disposable. The conversation as noted had moved on, in any event, and Hudson observes Brennia’s furtive shift in demeanor. The Flewminati weren’t allies of his, and though they weren’t outright enemies either, he always found it convenient when other crime gangs just happened to… not succeed. What a shame. Better to have someone in power who was friendly to him, which Brennia was. Hudson gives his beard, which has grown in now that he’s living on his own, a thoughtful scratch. “Have you thought about getting someone on the inside?” he asks her. “Either flipping someone - a mid level of sorts - or just planting a mole? Not you, you'd be obvious, but someone else. Someone you trust and control.”

Brennia shrugs her shoulders up some, "I understand that apprehension, but we would genuinely come in peace to help. Being able to fly up and spot any potentially infected detain them safely without becoming infected themselves. Let me know if it seems like a good idea to Uma, but I might still run it by the Shar in case we get the go ahead so he can handpick who goes and be ready." She is quite taken by Uri, but what female avian wouldn't be? The bard doesn't have a shot in hell, though. Brennia does take a mental note of his state, the fact that he isn't at his home and she is glad she didn't bring up Alvina, but now she is quite worried. Pressing on anyway, she considers his words thoughtfully, "that isn't a bad idea at all, Hudson. They only allow avians and they have made themselves scarce since Kahran's forces abandoned Schezerade, but if they end up making themselves known because of the new election coming up, then that will be something I can look into." Hopefully there will be an avian, other than Uriphiel, she trusts by then to help in such a plan. "I know you have a lot going on," she pauses, feeling her words more weighted than she intends, "if you see anything out of the ordinary, please do not hesitate to send word." Then she shuffles around an unseen bag in between the space of her back and wings before pulling free a little piece of parchment with the symbol for the Flewminati. This is something he might have seen before if he remembers that far back, "every member I have had the unfortunate luck to encounter had this tattooed on their left hand." She hands him the paper to take, "keep this one.

Hudson doesn’t bother to pretend and repeat his talking point that he doesn’t feed ideas to the Cenril Mayor. Brennia knows better. He gives her a sly look and says nothing instead, the conversation has moved on. They’re hatching a plot to infiltrate the Fleminati. He’s slightly invested, if he’s honest, in that, the operation of a competitor’s is always going to be of interest to him. “You could always magic yourself to look like someone else, I’m told that works pretty well these days, people are living whole second lives in secret,” he comments with a certain quiet amusement. She seems heartfelt when she tells him to send word if something out of the ordinary happens, and he wonders if this is her oblique way of offering to provide a safe refuge if the guillotine does ever come for him. They’ve had a few moments, himself and Brennia. But then she retrieves the parchment with the Flewminati’s symbol, and he puts that idea to bed to take the paper from her, studying it quickly before folding it up for safekeeping. “Well you know I love a good excuse to catch up so I’ll be sure to send word if I notice anything,” he says, punctuating the statement with a boyish grin. “Anyway,” his second in command, Milo, is lurking nearby bearing that certain expression that denotes he wants a meeting with his boss. Hudson hopes that it’s good news for a change. “I feel like..” he lifts his chin for Brennia’s benefit, “people are looking for me. It’s been good seeing you.”

Brennia connects her gaze to his and sincerity comes over her face as she adds, "don't hesitate to reach out even if you don't see anything out of the ordinary." She gets a sense that he needs a friend right now and she considers herself to be one of them, one who doesn't always need something from him or pesters him about petty crap read in trash papers. When he had taken the paper, she had placed a platonic hand on his wrist with those words she spoke, but then the very busy gang runner was being summoned. "It -has- been good seeing you," she agrees. As they stand, hopefully he does as well - the gentleman he is, she leans in for a little one armed hug before she offers, "I'll be seeing you." Without further ado, she makes her way out of the Six Seasons to continue her busy work.