RP:Delivery; Tour
This is the third chapter of The Delivery. See the rest of the story here!
Frostmaw Northern Outpost
Alvina paused half way down the bottom of the staircase. She would have stopped sooner if her thoughts weren’t a chaotic nest of tangled strings. The heels of her white boots (which sent the echo of their clicks against the frozen stone walls) halted with her, most likely in front of Hudson if he hadn’t removed himself from her dragging grasp. “Hudson…” she spoke softly, “I do not know much of this base in itself..So…we might just have to explore and ask a lot of questions...” It had been a year since she’d been gone from the lands, even more since she’d joined the Eyrie. This was one of the few moments where her knowledge of the changes failed her, and her time away reared its head as an ugly reminder of her life before. The bard released Hudson if she was still holding onto him, and prodded the tips of her fingers together so as not to meet his eyes. Disappointment was not on her radar of things she could handle from other people. “But!” She finally chimed, “Everyone I met before was really nice and I’m sure we won’t have any trouble.” Crimson curls bobbed back and forth, still mostly locked in the tightly bound leather strap from their trip.
Hudson is reeling a little from his sudden new employ, and nearly slides down the stairs as Alvina comes to a sudden halt midway. "Yeah?" he asks breathlessly, one hand gripping the railing as he balances to face her. The softness of her tone did a little to alarm him, but his concern turns out to be misplaced. Instead, he finds himself chuckling at her comment, his head dipping in private amusement. He meets her eye a few beats later, briefly touching her elbow with his free hand in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. "So let's be clueless together," he tells her, merriment still brimming in the undertow of his gaze. He jerks his head down the stairs. "Come on, then. You scared me for a moment."
Alvina rubs her fleshed palm against the back of her neck and smiles sheepishly. “Let’s.” She echoes, with a fair amount of enthusiasm, before falling into place behind Hudson as they finish their decent into the main compound. Once at the bottom, they spotted an Eyrie guard, who they queried for a short time on locations and personnel. They travelled through icy corridors underground and high upon the walls of the hold, stopping every creature that pasted by with questions of this and that. They located the dorms, the armory, various training and stock rooms. At last, with evening drawing ever closer, the pair found themselves in the dining hall with plates of the aforementioned ‘free food’ before them. Their cups were brimming with crisp wines, meat and delicately crafted breads between their fingers as they ate. It was with a rich satisfaction that the bard drew a small sip of wine through her lips and sighed heavily. Her body was weary with travel but the company and meal lifted her spirits. “And, the fellow with the oversized helmet? How does he get anywhere safely?” She heard herself say as the two discussed their adventures, laughter bubbling from her own lips. A small part of her dreaded the flight back to the lab.
Hudson speeds down the remainder of the steps, falling back as Alvina flags down a guard to provide an overview of the Eyrie's operations. He offers the other guy a sheepish grin for his trouble, tacitly acknowledging the interruption these questions must have cause. "Thanks, mate!" calls out Huds as they finally take their leave of the man and hustle through the chilly corridors, seeing the rest of what there is to see. They soon arrive at the caf, just in time, for Hudson's stomach echoes it's pleasure upon the the scent of meals being prepared. They load up their plates, Huds in a reverent silence, as if observing the sanctity of food. He grins across their table at Alvina, biting down into a buttered roll. "Mmmmphmm," he replies, pausing to wash that thought down with a beer himself. "Much prefer goggles, though I look slightly ridiculous," he agrees with a lift of his eyebrows. His gaze settles on Alvina as a small awkward pause inserts itself. He decides to drink more of his beer to occupy it, and misses clearing away the pale mustache left by the foam. "You said something about a flying mount earlier?" he says, spearing greens onto his fork. "I think it was... that I would have to get one?"
Alvina watches Hudson with a warm affection. She can’t help but laugh out loud as his “mustache” appears. Maybe she was overdoing it a bit, holding her stomach and chuckling ever harder when she looked back up at him as long as it remained. “Yeah,” she huffs in a breathless answer as tears fall down her cheeks, “We have to have a flying mount of some kind. Sometimes it’s as simple as requesting another member with the ability to be your partner of sorts. You would fight together and have to develop a strong bond. Or you can try purchasing a wyvern or…sometimes they just find you.” The bard reaches to touch the silver charm that was Zi, only to find it missing. A moment of panic was followed by the memory of him being in good care here while they visited. All the while, the bard’s smile never faltered. “They even have a ceremony of sorts,” she added, tearing a good bit of chicken from her plate to chew thoughtfully. The wine they offered her made the length of her limbs warm, despite the chill of Frostmaw.
Hudson blinks in a wide-eyed manner, at first with confusion at Alvina, and then with self-conscious awareness, his hand dipping to snatch his napkin, which he uses to wipe away his upper lip. "That does happen sometimes," he says with a smirk of sorts. He tempers his amusement as Alvina explains about the flying mount he'd be expected to get, digging in to his food while she talks. He has a vision of his mum fretting about him flying about on wyverns and the like, and it stirs a private smile. He's not sure what she'd have made of this trip; that's why he had concealed a few necessary facts. "I wonder what'll become of me, then," he muses outloud, reaching for his beer and lifting it in a hasty but playful toast. "We'll see, I suppose." He drinks, then, draining his glass and making a satisfied sound at the base of his throat as he sets it back down. A waitress, brushing by, scoops it up and carries it off. After a startled look, Huds makes a small inquiry about there being a refill in order, which she answers with a nonverbal nod, settling the matter. The alchemist's attention winds its way back to Alvina without missing a beat. "You'll have another too, yes? I feel it's all well deserved, we worked very hard. First of many projects!"
Alvina still chuckles a bit as Hudson dabs the mustache away, her face flushed with color in the warmth of the hall and good company. Not to forget the wine, of course, the glass drained and replaced by the same woman who was scooping up Hudson’s glass. The waitress was pretty, she thought, envious of her straightened hair and narrow neck. The bard touches her own neck wordlessly before losing a moment to think vainly about her own appearance. “…of many projects!” She sang out, a few moments behind, with a grin. Hudson’s words rang straight to the bard’s heart and she hoped with all her might that it was true. That the pair would design many a great this and that together. Her cheeks blushed in addition to the wine tinting her with warmth, and she chuckled nervously as if he could read her thoughts. “You should find something with magnificently soft wings…” She mumbled, a little, half way through her second glass of wine. The thought of lodging stirred her. Would Zi fly them home? Did she want to go home already? “How long do you think would be too long? To stay I mean, do you think they would grow tired of us before morning? Are you in any rush to return home?”
Hudson's grin mirrors Alvina's, and in the merriment of the moment finds that his beer has been replaced by a fresh glass. Even happier days. With the altitude, he is starting to feel more buzzed and foolish than he ordinarily would at this point. An unexpected perk, he decides, sipping foam off his new mug. Alvina certainly seems to be feeling the effects herself, he thinks, judging by the rosiness that's spread out over her complexion, and her giggling opposite him. It suits her. "What like a pegasus? I should expect they're rather difficult to find around these parts, plus I'd have to make it a sweater of sorts to deal with the weather," he comments, smirking into his glass as he drinks again. Alvina's prodding about the day ahead of them, and a longer day, causes him to look up. "No rush here, I suppose. I mean I was planning on moving some things into a place I'm renting with another guy," he feels a swell of pride at that. Doubtful his room with Mum would ever be transformed for any other purpose, but it felt good to announce to a woman that he was about to live as an adult, or attempt it. "But moving is a pain, so it doesn't really matter what time we get back whether it's later today or what. Say, were you thinking of staying until tomorrow? I suppose that might be easier?"
Alvina waved her hand in the air to dismiss going home tonight all together. “Naaaah,” she said, a little too loudly. “We can head home in the morning! We’ve accomplished so much in this short time and we are due a night to relax!” The bard thought about Hudson atop a Pegasus, though instead of sitting like one would with a horse, he was standing on a saddle as one might stand on the bow of a ship. The image made her spit a bit of wine as she laughed, sending a short spray of pink foam onto the table. Gods, how embarrassing. “Would you ride it like a normal horse?” She asked, doing her best to dab up the mess with a nearby rag. Her cheeks were a bright crimson, akin to her hair now….until Hudson made mention of a sweater and then she was roaring with laughter again; embarrassment completely forgotten. His news of moving was received warmly, and with less laughter and more smiles. The bard reached across the table to pat his hand on his mug. “That’s so wonderful! Congratulations! I had no idea! Where are you going to live? Do you need help moving anything? I’m quite strong…” she remarked, flexing her arms in a faux of strength. “Moving is a terrible pain,” the bard sighed, finally daring to drink another sip of wine. “We can stay in the barracks, I’m sure. I mean, we are members now…as in…we are both members…I was a member before but…” Alvina struggled to keep her sentences complete. “I’m sorry,” she chuckled, “I guess this is all going to my head a bit. That and all the excitement. We couldn’t have asked for a better day, love.”
Hudson greatly prefers this new proposed plan, especially since they're both on the highway to getting drunk and he really doesn't know whether drunkenly riding a wyvern is advisable. Probably not. "I think so, plus I'm dreading moving my things, to be honest, my mum's really sad about the whole thing," he says, drinking some of the amber liquid in his glass. He watches, with some delayed surprise, as Alvina seems to explode with amusement over some private thought. "Ride it like a normal horse?" he repeats, somewhat confused at first, before it dawns on him he's referring to his proposed pegasus. He rubs at one eye as he ponders the question, in his mind's eye conjuring up a mental picture of himself atop the rather diminutive mount, arrayed beside folks riding dragons and wyverns and all manner of majestic creatures. "Well... obviously I think? Not that I've ever seen a pegasus, but in all the stories, I think that's what one does. Anyway. On the subject of my moving, I'm moving in to a place off the Cenril beach, so really not that far from home honestly, I should be alright but thank you for asking. We'll be having a house warming party though, I hope you'll try to come?" He flashes what he hopes is a winsome smile her way and downs more of the beer before him, acting intentionally casual. "No pressure of course. Right." He scratches at the forelock of his hair, pushing it up so that it catches on his goggles, propped up on his head. "To be honest the barracks might be a touch nicer than my future rental - seriously - so I suppose I can't complain." He allows himself a chuckle or two, Alvina's laughter proving contagious. "It has been a good day, hasn't it? Here here, shall we get one more drink, or are you feeling ridiculous?"
Alvina grins at Hudson a little lopsided and nods, in a crooked fashion of agreement. Of course you would ride a Pegasus as a horse. Not like some crazy boat captain gone mad. Excitement gripped her and she gesturing rather wildly. “Oh! Oh!” her hands were waving madly at the air between them. “I could make you some furniture probably, maybe! As a house warming gift!! And of course I would love to go. You’re so sweet to invite me!” Alvina moved forward to hug Hudson in thanks before remembering there was a table in the way and frowned. She stood, shuffling awkwardly to the same side and hugged his back with her chest, enveloping him with warmth and wine. “To be honest,” the bard unraveled herself from the embrace and sat beside him, leaning over to drag her wine glass back to a reachable distance, “I do feel ridiculous, but in a rather good spirited sort of way. Perhaps this will be my last wine though.” She laughed at Hudson, who was laughing at her and the roundabout came full circle. Contently, she sighed, leaning her head onto his shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Hudson flushes a little at the offer of furniture. "Oh, er," he begins to make excuses. If only she knew what a dump the apartment he was destined to share with Sargaso really was........ Well, she certainly would find out, if she attends their party. He finds his embarrassment peaking somewhat as Alvina shuffles over to his side of the table and hugs him from behind. That was rather unexpected and a wee bit overwhelming, and the blood takes its sweet time in draining from his face. He struggles to explain why the making of furniture isn't necessary. "I mean... that's really nice of you, but maybe you should see the place first," he says delicately, making sure that she's ample space to scoot in beside him. He doesn't mind the intrusion. He reaches for his beer - seems like a good idea, and it seems it has been recently topped off - as she declares that her drink will be her last for the day. "I probably should stop after this one, the altitude I suspect is having an effect," he comments, turning to look at the top of her head, propped against his shoulder. He smiles privately to himself and slides his free arm about her back to support her. "Perhaps not the only one who's getting rather drunk faster than usual, I suspect either," he comments somewhat dryly.
Alvina listed to her heartbeat in her ears, meshing with Hudson’s. His voice was there, resonating through her ears and his own shoulder. She drunkenly wondered if he could hear her heart beat, and shifted her head a bit. It was not a usual occurrence for the woman to find herself speechless or weary…so it had to be proof of the alcohol taking effect. All of her joints and extremities increased in weight and seemed impossible to move. The room swirled around them as she shut her eyes and drifted in the sea of space before sleep. She felt the warmth of his skin against her back as he wrapped his arm around her. He smelled rich like shaving lather and earthy with travel through the woods and sky. She wanted to tell him all about how her fiancé left her after five years of waiting and she wanted to tell him she liked him quite a bit. The wine must have done its job well for the bard to even ponder those subjects. They really had gone off and celebrated, hadn’t they? They had better retire before they caused more trouble for the lovely people here in the Eyrie’s fort. “..should prop ally….get to bed.” She mumbled, trying to lift her head, which must have gained a hundred pounds since she set it down. How was Hudson not flinching under her weight?!
Hudson is vaguely conscious of the sets of eyes around the cafeteria, though his level of concern has been knocked down a great deal by his state of inebriation. Alvina is warm and very pretty, and it's been a long day and his thighs hurt from riding a wyvern of all creatures. He has earned this G-rated cuddle. Surely everyone looking their way has been there before. He wishes somehow they could be magically transported to a better place to pass out - this certainly wasn't it - although maybe. Just maybe. That wasn't a good idea. This was too much of a guilty pleasure, he feared. Alvina is rather pretty - and rather bookish and quirky like him, he knows - but she also works with him now. Proceed with caution. He begins to feel a drunken prickle of anxiety, but as Alvina begins to sleepily murmur beside him, promptly opts to wall all of his concerns off and just enjoy the moment. "Probably," he agrees, shifting as she stirs beside him. He tries to ease her upright, standing himself, hand still at her back to keep her steady. "Easy does it then?"
Alvina struggles to lift her eyelids before she deals with the task of standing all together. When did she get so tired? It felt as if sleep had evaded her grasp for weeks but she couldn’t remember if that was true or a false imprint of her current state. Shaking her head, she does her best to stand, trying not to rely too much on the Alchemist for support. “Thank you…” She murmurs, the rouge of wine still in her cheeks as she smiled at him. They made careful work of the corridors together, navigating icy patches and warriors switching watch. There was a sort of guilt associated with watching others venture off to work right before crawling into bed…but it fell off the bard’s shoulders as quickly as it came into being. The corridor eventually evolved into multiple doors, each a private room for any member in need of rest. As long as they were empty, Alvina didn’t see the harm in borrowing one for the evening. A lot of people came and go, as it was, with guild business anyhow. “Thank you,” she said, though she wasn’t sure if she had already thanked Hudson or not. She wanted to be sure he understood her appreciation for his assistance and company. The first couple rooms appeared occupied but the further down the hall they trekked, the less that seemed to be a problem. Finally, two doors, right across the hall from one another, appeared to fit their need. Alvina leaned herself against one of the doors and smirked a bit at her companion. It wouldn’t do to put them both in awkward situation, though her heart felt reckless while her mind attempted to remind her of caution and consequences. She was the first to break the silence. “ I…am very glad we met.” She said, shouting nervously internally, what kind of thing was that to say?! “I also hope we get to be together for a long while still…” Reaching out, she fumbled to take his hand, and then thought to clarify, “You know, as partners…for..work.” The bard decided simply to just give up trying to speak and pressed her lips against his hand as a formal goodnight. Even though that’s what gentleman are suppose to do to ladies…she hoped he wouldn’t be offended by the role reversal.
Hudson's arm flattens behind Alvina, spotting her as she rises to her feet. He holds the pose, keeping vigilant as they move through the corridors, his own step a little swaying but all the same somewhat buoyed by his pretty considerable tolerance for alcohol. He can for the most part handle his beers. They're mostly silent during this little journey, either both too drowsy to maintain real conversation, or wrapped up in their own thoughts. Huds ushers Alvina to her door, loitering to say goodnight opposite her. "You're really welcome, I didn't do anything besides just walk with you," he tells her, sparing her a grin as they nonetheless awkwardly eye one another. If they were at a proper bar, and maybe Alvina were more of a party girl, they might have caroused late into the night, gotten sloppy drunk, and engaged in a more than likely a great deal of poor decision making. There was practically a script for that sort of night out. And all the same, he finds Alvina's relative inability to tolerate wine, and her responsibility, somewhat endearing, and also situationally bewildering. What is this... this drinking responsibly? He almost regrets inviting her to his and Sargaso's house party; that would surely be a bacchanalian event, and he feels not a little embarrassed at the idea of gentle Alvina in the middle of a gaggle of shouting men playing beer pong and crudely opining on the attractiveness of mermaids. He is just pondering this line of thought when she breaks the near-tangible barrier of silence they'd swaddled themselves in. "Oh, me too," he answers immediately, looking down at his hand, which she has taken for herself and pressed against her lips. This little gesture seems startlingly intimate and yet formal all the same, and he flushes and releases her hand, as if it were made of literal fire. Well, I had best behave, he thinks dryly, as he leans forward to kiss her on the cheek, one arm coming around her in a quick goodnight hug. "Cuddle Aria for me," he tells her as he pulls away, resisting his drunken inclination to draw things out. He extricates himself from further peril by crossing the hall and waving at her from his doorway, uttering a "Goodnight, then!" before heading in to sleep.