RP:Lying And Tigers And Bombs, Oh My!

Part of the The Dust Up In Cenril Arc

Summary: Hudson asks Alvina to the The Office to mend the rescued Tiger, dubbed Tuna.

The Office

Since they're on reasonably good terms of late (if that's what you want to call it), Hudson had sent the following somewhat alarming note to Alvina:

"Need your healing skills. Please come to the Office ASAP."

He probably should have elaborated, for example specified that it wasn't for him. The context isn't helpful: for the last few days, the paper would have been reporting on the detonation of a bomb in a deli that serves as a somewhat infamous meeting point for the organized crime guys in Larket. This news might have made its way to Frostmaw, because the bomb was believed to have been red dirt.

In any event, Hudson hadn't connected any dots in a reassuring manner, had merely dashed the note off as described. It's about the baby tiger, whom he and his roguish compatriots are now calling Tuna. For now, they're keeping her upstairs. She's not well, her rescue (abduction) from the deli had sapped a lot of her strength, and she had already been ailing to begin with. She's a friendly creature, though, with no apparent loyalty (or perhaps her previous owners had been unkind) because she's been at the Office for just a few days and she's already trying to climb onto people's laps. She is too big to do this, and sick in any event, but she attempts anyway. Presently, Hudson is sleeping on the couch in the manager's office. He is contorted in an uncomfortable position, because Tuna has wedged herself onto the very end and is occupying it, looking sad-eyed and weak.

Alvina received Hudson note in a panic, thinking that something had gone horribly wrong with some of his darker dealings and he was dying. DYING. It’s all consuming. She runs to the neighbors, who are frankly sick of her constant excuses to watch her children and not coming home for considerable lengths of time. Remember that one night Ms. Laidon when you said you were going for walk and stayed out all night and into the next morning? That was different, she’d explained, before handing them a considerable sack of gold and an apologetic smile. Mercedes, sensing Alvina was in no mood to horse around, yielded and flew her to Larket without incident. When the pair touches down outside of The Office, Alvina hadn’t worn her glasses or tied back her hair, so she’s a frazzled looking crazy person. Some bouncer that hopefully recognizes her leads her into Hudson’s office to find him on the couch. She can’t even see the tiger because her narrowed focus is trying to determine if Hudson is breathing. “Hudson!” The Bouncer, knowing well enough not to ask questions, shuts the door behind the bard as she bolts in. She’s prodding his arms and legs, trying to shake him when she finally sees the tiger and freezes with a repetition of his name caught in her throat.

When you become a father, you become a light sleeper. But then, when the mother of your children snatches your kids from you, you recover your ability to sleep through anything. Or, almost anything. Hudson makes noises of unhappiness and pulls himself upright once he comes under (probably well intended, but nonetheless) assault from Alvina. "Sven, woman, I'm fine, I'm fine, hi," he says, dropping an arm around her to hold her to him since she really doesn't seem to be doing so hot. Appears to be worked up in a froth about something -- apparently him. It will be flattering when he wakes up a bit better. "It's OK, I'm fine," he repeats. He steels himself against a punch to the chest or something, but she's frozen in terror. Tuna yawns beside them, and then, with obvious pain, pushes herself to all fours and walks over to Alvina, whom she sniffs. "Tuna, sit," says Hudson, to no effect. She takes the hem of Alvina's sweater in her mouth and begins to chew on it. Hudson reaches around Alvina, pries it out of her mouth. "NO," he says, to the tiger. To Alvina, who seems paralyzed by terror and/or her concern: "Don't be scared, she's a good girl. Hey, it's OK. Alright? Alvina? Hi. How are you?"

Alvina was angry that Hudson was fine. She’d have punched him in the chest, or the shoulder, or something if she could move. Even as the tiger hobbled over to chew on Alvina’s sweater, she was trying to remember what bardic spells she normally uses to get the twins to sleep. Her hands are already extended, please not the face, when Hudson tells the tiger no and it seems to semi listen. “This is a wild animal,” She tells him, just in case he isn’t AWARE that this is a tiger and not a house cat. “That is a tiger,” Her voice is frail, her hair a puffed mass of frizz and concern. “How are you asking me how I am? A tiger is chewing on my sweater, I thought you were dying. Why can’t you send a proper note?” Concern re-writes her face and she’s tugging on him, fingers white with pressure on his shirt. “Are you okay? I was so worried.” Alvina had this same overthetop expression when Harper had come down with croup. It should go without saying that Alvina has seen the papers and assumed this had something to do with the bombing but...she can’t ask the questions, doesn’t want to know the answers. Let’s all just pretend this tiger is in a strip club because it’s trained and part of some new Puddy cat dolls act.

"Yeah, her name is Tuna," says Hudson, keeping a watchful eye on the cub while Alvina starts pawing at him. "Easy," he tells her. "Babe, I didn't realize you'd freak out. It's kind of nice, ..where are your glasses?" He reaches to catch her by the wrists so that she'll knock it off. He thinks it's upsetting Tuna, whom he fears might fall off the couch. "Stop," he tells Alvina, releasing her hands to grab her face and kiss her. "I'm good," he repeats, after that. "Thank you for coming." A beat. "You're here for Tuna." Who makes a pathetic mewling-growling noise in response. She is trying to drag herself over their laps, and Hudson encourages Alvina to get off the couch because she's plainly not as accustomed to wee Tuna as he is. Also, she's not made of somewhat indestructible werewolf. Tuna isn't very menacing, though, she lies down, stretching out over Hudson's lap with her head on the couch. She looks with sad eyes at Alvina. "My coworker friends and I uh, rescued her from a bad place a few days ago," says Hudson, by way of explanation. "She's really skinny and she limps... I think maybe she has some broken bones in her legs, um, I thought maybe you could like help and make her some sort of... cart... thing for them to heal." He tries to get a read on Alvina, who has the look of a woman not tolerating his crap. It's a sort of perpetual demeanor that she has with him, except during those rare moments when she finds him charming. "She's really sweet, doesn't know she's not a small cat," he adds.

Alvina shuffles around as instructed but it’s more Hudson that’s making her nervous than the doe eyed cat. “Aww…” It looks kind of sweet, and it’s injured. Hudson’s name choice makes Alvina scrunch up her nose. “Tuna? Is that some sort of bad joke?” Cats like fish, tuna fish, who knows. “I left them at home, I thought you were dying. I don’t need my glasses to help.” She didn’t, but they helped. “Do you have a comb? I can’t see through my hair…” Without waiting for permission, the bard walks over to Hudson’s desk and begins opening random drawers. She’s half listening about the contraption Hudson wants her to build. “We can do that, do you have any supplies around here? I didn’t exactly come up here with splints in to-”. Any warning Hudson offered before she started going through his desk would fall on deaf ears. “What the…” Without waiting for a reply, Alvina takes a comb out of the draw and shuts the rest, closing her eyes and waving her empty hand in the air like ‘ I don’t even want to hear about this.’ The comb sorts out most of her wind tangled hair and the tiger is staring still, eyes backlit by intense discomfort. Alvina sighs loudly, like she’s giving in to Harper or Luna when they want something she’s already told them they can’t have. “Come here…” Her hands nervously reach to let the tiger sniff them, the way she’d approach any house cat. Maybe it works the same way. Gods, this is not how she saw her night going. The atmosphere of the strip club made her so uneasy. “What are you going to do with her?”

Hudson is letting Tuna chew on his hand (it's not so bad) and watches Alvina move to his desk and begins rifling through the things there. "Maybe don't, uh, Alvina," he warns her, too late. There's some terrifying material in there, from the previous owner of the establishment. He winces, sucking in air through his teeth. "That drawer... Just so you know, that's been there since we bought the place, nobody wants to even touch it to move it," he comments, wondering what other danger zones exist in this office. There's plenty of evidence that he makes and distributes narcotics but that's not new information for her. There's a distinct weird vibe between them now, he doesn't like it. He'd thought she'd be endeared by Tuna. Look, an injured baby tiger, and an opportunity for her to use her bard and engineering skills. Hadn't they been spending time together and mending things a bit, well as much as they can be mended, why does she seem so far away? Alvina is letting Tuna sniff her. "I don't know, Eleanor's in charge, not exactly discreet to own a baby tiger," he concedes, nearly suffering a heart attack and shouting "NO, TUNA!" as Tuna very slowly closes her mouth over Alvina's hand. "NO," says Hudson, and the tiger makes a bleating sound as if to say, But I wannaaaaaaa. It doesn't hurt, it's probably just terrifying. Hudson is also terrified, and says, white-faced and sternly, "Tuna, stop." With a mournful noise, Tuna releases Alvina's hand and struggles to stand up on Hudson. "No, no no no," Hudson is saying, because it's not going so well. He ends up catching her around the waist, placing her on the ground. She limps over to Alvina and, placing her large paw on the woman's leg for balance, sinks onto her side, showing her stomach. "You see she's got issues walking," says Hudson, in a wilted manner, still monitoring the situation by kneeling down beside the large cub and distracting her. He's fine to roughhouse with Tuna but Alvina's skittishness is rubbing off on him now. "Why does it feel weird today?" he asks.

Alvina has to resist the VERY STRONG urge to pull her hand back but she doesn’t. It’s the same kind of game Aria plays, only the house cat uses her claws and not an oversized tiger mouth. Hudson’s shouting startles her but still she doesn’t move. Tuna is applying light pressure, an ounce more would pierce Alvina’s skin. It is INSANE. This small thing could rip them both apart in seconds. The vibration of Tuna’s protest rattles through Alvina’s hand before it’s returned to her, along with the pitiful hobbling of this creature. Whatever alarm Alvina felt before, it’s morphed into terror. She could be mad at Hudson any time, it was like a secret hobby at this point to yell at him for all kinds of things. This instance could wait a minute more. “Hey, whoa there…” comes her small, mothering voice as the tiger paws her leg. “Hudson, give it a second okay? I might be able to knock her out for a bit. She’s really restless and hurting.” Understatement of the decade. Tuna’s just a baby...she doesn’t know better. It’s the same way Luna tries to eat books. It’s not in a menacing way. She probably thinks it’s just playing, even if Alvina’s skin isn’t like Hudson’s. There’s no werewolf or supernatural ability to protect her from tiger teeth. Alvina lowers the flats of her palms onto Tuna’s stomach, hopeful to avoid a very large bear trap situation (because Hudson is also in the floor and helping her handle it). A low hum vibrates through her lips, the bardic magic cascading down to her fingertips and into the lovable homewrecker known as Tuna. What a name, Alvina thinks, while she’s pushing what energy she has into making their animal companion sleepy. It’s a lot easier with tiny little werewolf babies, she admits secretly to herself. Tuna must have a very strong will to play, or to live. Maybe the creature thinks it’s in some life or death situation and if it sleeps...it’s over. That’s how most kids react to naps. One nap and it’s all over man. The tiger yawns, on the tail end of a disquieting whine, and her muscles begin to slack against Hudson’s presence. They can discuss a draft of a tiger wheelchair and probably their personal lives after the kiddo is knocked out. The magic in the air is palpable but not visible. There aren’t blue sparks shooting from her fingertips or anything. Just her humming, which is a bit too loud for humming realistically. It fills the office like she’s singing at a normal volume and her voice is projected by outstanding acoustics the space doesn’t really possess. Bardic magic. Good for something, once in a while.

Hudson steals a look at Alvina, feeling wee Tuna slacken with sleep, her eyes closing momentarily. He exhales slowly as a deep snore issues from the cub's nostrils. He ruffles her ears before falling back on his heels. "Nice," he says, leaving Alvina to examine the animal because there's a knock at the door. It's one of his employees, there to debrief him about a visit paid by a stranger carrying a note for Hudson. Hudson moves out into the hall, and they converse in a hushed tone, Hudson returning a moment later with a note. Hudson had been anticipating a note or some form of message from his detractors - i.e., the former owners of Tuna, the Larket mob - and he sits on the floor beside Alvina and the passed out baby tiger to open it. He's not thinking about the fact that she can read over his shoulder, he breaks the wax seal and pries the paper open to reveal what's written. He pales, blinking rapidly: the first thing he sees is Alvina's address, in Frostmaw, and beneath it the words, 'Or we could meet' with a date and an address for a warehouse on the outskirts of Larket.

Alvina busies herself with checking Tuna’s legs and hips while Hudson answers the door and steps outside. She exhales, without realizing she’d been holding her breath since she got here. This place, it’s suffocating. Something about it just reeks trouble and it’s not the smell of a dude sleeping on the couch either. Her hands graze the Tiger’s head, scratching her ears and pretending for a moment that she really just is a giant house cat. Who knows when Alvina will get the chance to pet a baby tiger again! It’s little reassurance for the situation she now finds herself in. If this Tiger was stolen...or part of some of Hudson’s more dangerous activities, Alvina is now an accessory to crime. It’s jarring, hence the distance since she’d arrived and found Hudson to be all right. She didn’t want to be here. They should get a healer that’s in the business and leave her out of it. She’d only agreed because she was worried and because, surely it isn’t Tuna’s fault that she’s here. It’s only Hudson’s, and Eleanor’s. Tuna’s hips feel out of place...fractured but not shattered, thank the gods. A few more fractures further down her legs on both sides. Was she hit by a carriage? Alvina draws her hands back as her extremities freeze with her next thought. Was this animal being beat? Hard pockets of scar tissue below the skin noted repeat injuries to the same places. Swollen, tender skin looked purple and green if you peeled back her fur. It’s all very dark, too dark for Alvina to keep a straight face. She’s humming some local anesthesia into the tiger’s joints. Trying to bind the bones internally enough so they can set where they need to. They’d have to build some ridiculous thing with wheels otherwise Tuna wouldn’t be moving for a few months max on her own...and Alvina had already seen that she didn’t care if she was in pain or not. Tuna was gonna Tuna. When Hudson sits back down and stiffens next to Alvina, she looks over his shoulder to glance at the note he’s holding. She sees the same thing; her address, in Frostmaw and springs onto her feet like Hudson’s electrocuted her. Tuna will remain asleep in the floor, a magical current slowly circulating through her muscular system and mending what it could. It was everything she’d ever been afraid of. Whoever Hudson was fighting now knew where Alvina was because she’d been dumb enough to let him visit. “Damn it, Hudson!” She shouts, knowing the tiger wouldn’t wake for some time. Her index fingers press against her temples and she bends at the waist while her face contorts into some awful mix of crying and screaming. Expletives find purchase in the space between her accusations and self derogatory remarks. This was his fault. This was also her fault. How dare she let him visit and think things were safe. Hadn’t he promised to resolve this soon? This doesn’t seem resolved Hudson! She should have known he was just putting up a front to get what he wanted. Lying to Alvina, manipulating her into thinking he wanted her back when really all he wanted was to see their children. Have to get back in mom’s good graces to do so. What the hell was going to happen now? Alvina would have to move again...Her external dialogue concludes, making the bard think maybe now would be the best time to consider Lionel’s offer and move in with him. Surely no one would attack the home of Frostmaw’s Knight Commander just to get back at Hudson. Surely.

Of course Hudson should have anticipated that she'd read his texts! "Alvina!" Hudson exclaims at the same time that she cries out. He's on his feet too. "Stop, I don't know what you think you read--" he's trying to touch her but she wants none of it. Is shouting at him and batting him away. He can't blame her, he feels warm all over (in the wolf way) to be put on the defensive like this. "I'm obviously going to meet with them and it will be resolved!" he roars at her, since she isn't showing any signs of stopping. "Stop it! ALVINA, stop!" He finally gets a hold of one of her wrists and forcibly pulls her so that she has to look at him instead of raving madly at the room at large. "I DO want you back, STOP IT," he half-growls at her through gritted teeth. "Nothing's going to happen. We're going to reach a deal."

Alvina can’t even with him right now. “Don’t lie to me! What kind of idiot do you think I am! Don’t touch me-” Hudson’s screaming at her to stop and she freezes because he’s pulling on her wrist too hard. He’s going to break it or so it feels. Panic silences her long enough for him to say they are going to reach a deal and nothing will happen. “Let me go,” She replied while staring him down with crazed eyes. He was stronger and louder, faster too. But she wouldn’t hesitate and he just might. He’s still trying to talk her down, using a tone with a bit less growl to ‘reassure’ her. She takes a step back and relaxes her wrist until she feels enough space to move between his fingers. Quickly, she rotates her wrist out, towards his thumb and breaks his grip on her. Her eyes hold Hudson’s, horrified that she’d tried and succeeded in actually getting out. “You keep saying that you are going to make deals and take care of things, and yet people keep trying to prove you wrong by knowing where the girls are! The knowledge alone is threat enough! I don’t need to see the rest of the damn message. Now I have to go back and move us somewhere else…” Alvina isn’t backing down from him, even if she wants to. He’s angry, and cocky. Too proud and invincible in his own mind. He can’t see past what he wants anymore than he could before, Alvina thinks with no subtle sprinkling of irony. She’d done the same thing. Convinced herself it was okay because she wanted it to be. It wasn’t. Without another word, she turns for the door while guarding her wrists so he couldn’t grab her again. The flesh there would purple and bruise to a sickening green in a couple days, but today it just burns. A touch of penance for being selfish. Alvina must have deserved it.

Hudson feels the hot flush of shame the second Alvina jerks herself free. He too recoils, and sits on the edge of his desk, whereupon she shouts at him some more. He isn't listening too closely, he knows what the message will be anyway. Something about him putting everyone in danger and never making good on what he's promising. He's looking at the hard wood and replaying what happened just then. How hard had he grabbed her? Surely not that hard. (But she had been scared of him...) He doesn't truly remember, even though it had been seconds ago. They'd been yelling, she had been agitated, he'd wanted to stop her from being agitated. He'd had good intentions, he loves her, he'd not meant it. Whatever 'it' was. He's frowning, and she's turning to leave, he clears his throat. "Alvina, I'm sorry, please," he says after her, with all the sincerity of self-loathing behind it. A little late for that, because she's gone. Of course she is. He feels a headache coming on, too late. He pounds on his desk in frustration. "Gods damn it," he complains, to no one, hanging his head.