RP:Star-Crossed Contrarians

Part of the Through A Glass, Darkly Arc

Summary: Hudson and Alvina overhear a date-gone-wrong conversation that references a conspiratorial newspaper, the Veritas, published by one Jules Egnasse. Hudson isn't phased by the ramblings over at the table next to them but picks a copy of the paper up on the way out. In addition to reporting a number of ridiculous conspiracy theories, the Veritas is also reporting what everyone already knows: that Larket is blaming the tragedy that befell its children on witches, when in reality it had been the opening of Vakmatharas' jar. The conclusion between the Landons is that it's a desperate publication of no moment. Surely nobody would ever take its rantings seriously.

Cenrilian Restaurant

Hudson and his people never solved the mystery of the newspaper man who had assailed his wife in public demanding an interview over his relationship with Valrae. And the story, it would seem, was never published either. And so, the matter became forgotten, filed away by Hudson as a victory. Even if his people hadn't unmasked the man, his noisy search had had the intended effect of muzzling him and his would-be negative press.

Indeed, life went back to normal. After enough time, it's as if none of it had ever happened.

It's Saturday. Hudson and Alvina have been dividing and conquering kid-related errands all day. Batting cages for Harper. Paint supplies for Luna. A checkup for Bryce because he'd eaten a few of her crayons (classic Bryce). Hudson and Alvina reconvene when dropping the girls off at a late afternoon birthday party for one of the kids from their school. They stash Bryce with Hudson's mother shortly thereafter and sneak away for an early dinner, like 5:30 levels early dinner. It's blissful to be just adults and to go to a restaurant that doesn't have kid-friendly menus.

"Yeah, the doctor said he'd poop them out. Seemed totally unconcerned," reports Hudson regarding Bryce. In typical married parent fashion, they've either been talking about their kids the entire dinner or not talking at all, just listening to other people around them. Spying on bad dates. One's been happening next to them. "Do you remember what color they were? I hope they weren't red."

This slightly unappetizing conversation is going unnoticed by would-be Romeo and his date next to them. Would-be Romeo's not stopped speaking since they arrived. By Hudson's count, the guy's spent the last ten minutes pontificating endlessly about conspiracy theories. Right now, the guy's talking in one long, run-on sentence about how a witch mafia runs Cenril and, in fact, seized power to counteract Larket. Hudson lifts his eyebrows at Alvina, widening his eyes in dramatic fashion and bites into a buttered roll.

Harper had eaten Luna’s crayons once, in a toddler rage, and Alvina’d nearly had a heart attack. Bryce’s episode was -less- concerning but he was younger. She’s relieved to hear he’ll survive the encounter. “She’s never concerned, I swear.” Their doctor was an angel. She chews contemplatively on bread. “Brown, I think.” The least alarming color. “Luna was trying to get him to draw a big dog.” The legend of the DOG continues, passed down from generation to generation. She catches the last bit of what this ‘date’ is discussing when Hudson’s eyes go wide; it makes her laugh brazenly. She covers her mouth with her hand to protect her decency and looks back at him with a squint meant to scold. It lacks conviction.

“Are you going to eat all of that?” She reaches across the table, plucks a small corner off the roll he’s holding and pops it into her mouth. Bad habits that you can’t expose children to.

If only this random Romeo knew how close to the mark he was. That doesn’t make his other stances more credible. Larket isn’t using animals to spy and attack people who disagree with their developing views on the God of Death. Purifying water isn’t making it more POISONOUS. Alvina rolls her eyes as he goes on, daring a glance at his date who is glass eyed and leaning into her palm. Poor girl. Please leave this man child and find someone better. It’s funny how this man’s talking about a ‘witch mafia’ doesn’t make her nervous. Accusations and rumors like that can’t penetrate their protective bubble. After the reporter failed to turn up, it reaffirmed her faith in Hudson and his organization. Sure, they didn’t bring a head back on a platter but they’d caused enough of a stir to keep it out of the papers.

"How will we know he's pooped them out then?" Hudson for his part wishes that Bryce had chosen an easier to identify color, like blue. Alvina steals some of his roll and he gives her a knowing glance. There's a basket of more rolls in the center of the table. It's not an end-run around one's alleged diet if you simply eat your husband's food. He knows better than to point this out, though. Their conversation has simmered for the time being, and they eat in comfortable silence and listen to Romeo monologue further at his increasingly palpably bored Juliet.

"Larket controls all their media," he's saying to her. "You know how their papers blamed Red Witch Valrae for cursing the children?"

She doesn't look like she does. She doesn't look like she reads the papers, honestly. Poor woman. Her face is a mask of pleasantness, though.

"--Well I just read an exposé by Jules Egnasse that they know perfectly well that it was the jar opened by Brennia that also caused the Vanishing here. But they're blaming it on Valrae because? Because. Creating public enemy number one helps keep people scared and them stay in power."

"That's interesting," says Juliet, mildly.

Hudson shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "Do you want another iced tea?" he asks Alvina.

“He’s your son,” she offers with a shrug, “It figures he’d be difficult at every turn.” And then their food arrives.

Alvina’s attention is on eating while the nearby couple (or half of them) rants on. Her plate is steaming with sauced veggies and fragrant meats. Diets can get bent; broccoli is the devil. Her attitude, no doubt, encourages their children to hold the same opinion. She catches snippets of ‘Larket’ until Valrae’s name is mentioned. Sure, Alvina’d been there with the witch had gone into labor and delivered a beautiful, healthy son but that didn’t make them best friends all of sudden. It had, though she doesn’t know what to call the feeling, softened her opinion of the other woman. Must be maternal hormones.

She can’t see the man’s date but she’s tuned in now, mindlessly grabbing another roll to cleanse her mouth of greens. Brennia opened the jar; accurate. Witch propaganda; accurate. Personally, Alvina had avoided the subject with Josleen because Josleen denied it as propaganda. Not to mention, she’s convinced Jos -actually- believes what she’s saying. Could her friend lie to her? Alvina was horrible at it, why wouldn’t she just assume the Queen was the same way?

Hudson offers her Iced tea with an anxious expression. “Water, maybe.” She draws her reply out while listening to the man go on. His date replies and Alvina’s heart goes out to her again. GIRL NO. RUN. Who is this man writing exposés on Larket? Seems a risky business to get caught up in. Larket was a powerful ‘ally’, maybe that’s why Hudson looked uneasy.

"Alright," says Hudson when his wife declines iced tea. He flags the waiter down and waits for assistance.

"You should really read the Veritas. Egnasse's paper. It's real news," Romeo is telling Juliet, who is looking at her nail bed.

"How can I help you?" asks the waiter, interrupting Hudson's concentration on the conversation happening beside them.

"Just some more water, please. For both of us."

"Of course."

"--There's just a lot that gets covered up by the major papers. Larket but also here," Romeo is saying.

"Well what do you mean covered up?" It turns out Juliet is listening after all.

"Coverage of the mayor is always favorable, you ever notice that?"

"She seems like a nice person, and has really guided the city through crisis."

"You're just saying that because she's a woman."

"I'm not, why can't I like her, because I am also a woman?"

Hudson makes a noise into a forkful of food. He catches Alvina's gaze as he chews. This date next to them is somehow going even worse than it was before. "What time did I tell my mum we'd be back for Bryce?" he asks her, in an effort to seem less like they're obviously eavesdropping on what is possibly becoming an argument.

"No, no, of course not, you're right," Romeo is in for the quick save. Hudson widens his eyes at Alvina into another bite from his food.

Juliet crosses her arms. "Well if Mayor Abelin isn't all that, what's this Veritas think of her?"

"Oh well, those are my own views. Egnasse doesn't say much, honestly. Always comments on how she's Mayor of Cool. Very popular with young people. Doesn't seem to be much substance, just a lot of boxes being checked."

"Boxes being checked," repeats Juliet. Hudson recognizes the tone as the 'turn back now' one.

"Just have a hard time trusting her, I can't put my finger on it. Say, are you going to eat that?"

Alvina feels the hair rise on the back of her neck when the man says ‘HERE’. She hasn’t heard about this paper. It sounds like an underground sort. Did Hudson know about it? She looks across the table at him while he wades through ordering water. The conversation develops into an –actual- conversation and she keeps her eyes glued to Hudson’s face. Should she be concerned?

Juliet is in favor of Uma; good. She should be. Uma is an excellent leader, wonderful mother, power house for her people (Cenril and Witches alike). Alvina looks down at her plate while the waiter silently fills up their glasses with water. She looks back at Hudson when he emits this food noise and answers him after a sigh. “Tenish, I think.” She muses, tilting her head to continue her eavesdropping. She wants this woman to wipe the floor with this dude’s potentially rude comments about Uma. No doubt Hudson can tell she’s fully invested in this conversation now. She pushes back a curtain of crimson to catch the couple in her peripheral, hoping Juliet will smack him once she reaches her limit. “Are you wanting to go back early?” She asks, not listening to his reply.

"May the Gods bless birthday parties," mutters Hudson into a refreshed glass of water. "No, no," he answers her next question. "I'm not in a rush to resume being a parent any time soon." He reaches for some guacamole and chips in the center of the table.

"I think people just like saying that," Juliet is rising to Uma's defense. She'd eaten most of her food during Romeo's monologue so she's got nothing left to occupy her time while sitting across from him. "I wonder, if she were a man, whether people would say she is a 'man of the people?"

"They already say that."

"Except some contrarian types say they don't trust her," she quips.

"Well," Romeo drags out the word, "I read that a paper made an inquiry into her mayoral records, which we should be entitled to do, and that what they received in response seemed inadequate."

"Inadequate..."

"Yeah as in, there should have been more but there weren't."

"Sorry," Juliet looks bored of this already, "they're upset that she didn't take enough notes?"

"Yeah, maybe evidence was destroyed, or things kept off the books to begin with."

"So you don't trust her, because of these... notes."

"Yeah, I mean it seems fishy. Why conduct your job like you worry someone's going to ask for your notes?"

Juliet can only sigh in response. "I don't know. I can't help but wonder if these notes are a big deal, considering the barrier and everything else... It could be national security reasons..."

Hudson is maintaining a poker face as he goes about crunching on some chips opposite Alvina. "I feel like I knew better than to bring up politics when we first started going out," he remarks quietly, keeping his response in time with Romeo's to avoid attracting too much attention. Juliet heard, though, if her quick grin is any indication.

Alvina gives Hudson another look while the couple continues their debate. The mention of records makes her whisper “What's so important about records? That seems a dumb reason to use?” That sounds like what people say to support their cause without it being true. It just sounds sketchy but Alvina doesn't know why.

Luckily Juliet continues to defend Uma and Alvina feels a closeness to her. Hudson makes this remark to break the tension of their eavesdropping. She also guessed he couldn't answer her right now. The waiter swings back by the table to offer after dinner drinks and take their plates away. Alvina requests a bottle of wine and it arrives in short order. She's starting to wonder how much Hudson is actually influencing Uma's job. He'd been quick to tell his wife how things would go in the event of the story being published. How would he treat the mayor? Uma hadn't really mentioned it the last few times they'd met.

Hudson hasn't even heard of this record issue on which Romeo is now pontificating. The importance of transparency in the government. Right. If only people knew what had to get done to keep the peace sometimes. You've got to break all the eggs to make an omelet. It's not pretty. If it weren't him breaking eggs it would be someone else. Or it would be utter futility and weakness. He makes a noise into his straw and meets Alvina's eye. Wine is a good idea, if they're going to have to keep listening to this.

"I feel like you are concerned about influence by the witches just because she is a witch? How is that any different from anything else?" Juliet is asking.

"It's the principle of the thing. How can we trust her if her records--"

"Does it occur to you that records may not reflect actual developments? That these other people with their records, they had ways of getting around this transparency thing?"

"Why would you think they needed to?"

"I mean, do you live here?" Hudson watches their wine be poured to the tune of Juliet's indignation. "This is Cenril. Do you think crime just stopped happening because demand for it just stopped?"

"I think more effective guard presence--"

"They're totally in on it! Whatever it is -- the guards are in on the take. And I don't care! It's nice here now! The streets are cleaned up! But you won't find any records about that, I bet. But don't tell me the government doesn't know what happened."

Romeo is silent for a moment. "You're talking about collusion between criminals and the law."

"Isn't that better than the chaos caused by the constant cops and robbers?"

Hudson smiles mildly at Alvina behind his wineglass.

"Nobody should be a criminal is the point. Organized crime pushes vice on vulnerable members of society--"

"No one should be criminal? You're describing a Fantasy Land. So because nothing fits your idealistic idea of how society should work, it's all bad? And chaos is preferable?"

"Wow. That's not what I said."

Juliet crosses her arms and looks away. Hudson estimates this date is ending... shortly. Romeo signals for the check with barely controlled irritation. Silence open up at the table next to Hudson and Alvina. Time to act like they weren't listening.

"Remember when I used to live in the literal closet of a shack?" says Hudson to Alvina. "You're lucky I evolved into something worthwhile. That could be your life right now."

Alvina listens stiffly with her fingers wrapped around the stem of her wine glass. Juliet is up in arms now, shutting her date down ruthlessly. It’s a victory over his conspiracy theories but what the woman is saying makes Alvina uncomfortable. It’s hard to ignore when she’s forced to really zoom in on the picture she’s painted into. The picture she’s painted herself into.

Romeo isn’t wrong. Hudson’s criminal days began in substance abuse. Selling drugs in Cenril, establishing a network. A faith of drug dealers grew into a syndicate with Hudson at the head. Now people in Cenril pay protection money. People like Ethan or this couple, even if they didn’t know it. ‘Isn’t that better…’ Alvina’d wondered that -many- times. Hudson advertised it as being better because of his involvement. Because he was willing to do the dirty work that came with said improvements. Cutting through the red tape of government ‘approvals’ and ‘warrants’. The processes that shamelessly devour time and money gluttonously. Getting rich was just a bonus. A reward for his hard work and the risk involved.

Hudson’s smile doesn’t ease her conscience. Nor does his quick remark about Sarge’s place. Her brows are furrowed with concern but she answers with a clean, jovial tongue. What she heard him say was ‘Remember when things weren't this good? Look at what I’ve done for us’ as if to counteract the argument behind them. Or maybe even humble brag about how he had his life together more than this Romeo. “You were worthwhile before, though I had my doubts when you left your weights in my living room.” It reads ‘You didn’t have to become a mafia boss to keep my affections.’ It was quaint, at the time, that he was still boyish in that regard. She wasn’t much of an adult herself at the time and felt that her love for him would overcome dumb stuff like that no matter what if it was meant to be. News flash - it would not have survived if pressed for years. Now he’s a werewolf and barely works out but stays fit so...advantages to eternal curses. “I didn’t love your roommates girlfriend though.” Typical hot woman THREAT. “I guess I’m easily seduced by sky lights and soaking tubs.”

Alvina finishes her wine (without chugging thx) and twists the stem around between the pads of her thumb and index finger thoughtfully. They’d changed dramatically over the last 4 years and yet their cores remained the same. She’d stand her ground now and he was more driven. He cared about things and invested in trying to make Cenril better for it. After all, his mom lived here. He grew up here. He’d most likely die here, one way or another.

Hudson lifts his eyebrows at the mention of Amy, Sarge's girlfriend. Still only a girlfriend. How she's not taken matters into her own hands and started poking holes in lambskins is beyond him. How that relationship persisted is beyond him, really.

"Amy's not so bad, come on," says Hudson, thinking of the woman Amy had become. She'd matured in some ways. Still had screaming matches at Sarge in private, probably, but she'd graduated to a lucrative hostess gig at a posh restaurant and developed a more composed public demeanor as a result. That he'd seen. She still dressed a certain way but the clothes too had been upgraded in quality. She wore expensive jewelry. Did Sarge buy her that stuff? Amy these days looks a lot like a high-end escort, Hudson realizes. Hmmm. He decides to leave that thought alone and tops off their wine.

Having paid - split the bill, Hudson had noticed, judging Romeo for it - Romeo and Juliet rise from their seats to go. Hudson and Alvina watch them leave.

"What an awful date," comments Hudson immediately upon their being out of earshot. "I hate people like that. Dude just wants to watch the world burn because nothing's good enough. She better not sleep with him. Can't take the chance those views get passed on to the new generation."

“Maybe,” is her detached answer regarding Amy. Of course Hudson liked her. Probably wished his wife dressed more like her. Internal eye roll. She’s stuck in this vortex of thought until Hudson remarks on the date they’d just witnessed. “I highly doubt it. She seemed fit to be tied and he isn’t a charmer.” And why shouldn’t she be? That guy had blathered on forever and she’d shut him down with ease. That’s probably why they split the bill; he knew she wouldn’t sleep with him. Rude. “He’s an idiot but…” Ah, nevermind. Hudson knows, she doesn’t have to say. He had a better grasp on how politics worked. Fear and suspicion spread like wildfire through misinformation. No one checked their facts anymore. They were too eager to either jump on or off the wagon without much consideration. My friend made a good case based on hearsay and ignorance? He must be right! “...She shut him down quickly, thankfully.” Her finger digs into her temple. “I couldn’t have endured him prattling on rudely about Uma.” The wine is gone, the bill is paid but still they linger. Soaking up the ‘adult’ atmosphere before going home and telling stories about dogs they see near their house. Children. After a beat of silence, Alvina asks - “Do you know about this paper? It sounds...troublesome.” Concern is etched into her forehead and downturned lips.

Hudson knows what his wife holds back from saying. The unspoken words dance between them, glittering with the promise of an argument if they were uttered. Not this time. But maybe next.

"She sure did shut him down," agrees Hudson into the last of his wine, grateful that Alvina is positioning herself as on his side this time. It's not always this way. He makes a dismissive grunt as she comments on how cruelly placed the criticism of Uma had been. "Uma's a nice person and genuinely wants good things for the city, that guy just cuts her down over whatever but he doesn't know how hard she works," remarks Hudson. He sucks in a breath as Alvina asks about the paper Romeo had cited so authoritatively. "Veritas?" he tells her. "Yeah I looked into it before when we had those concerns. It's really into 'leaks' and 'transparency.' So... Appeals to the subset of the population that believes it knows better than the rest and that you can't trust what you read in the big papers. Which... sure." He cants his head slightly. "I don't know why that guy thinks they're scooping this Larket story, though, it's sort of what everyone thinks anyway. Bid for relevance I guess. Most folks here know better than to stir the pot by calling Larket out." He considers Alvina's frown and trades her a mild smile. The bad date hadn't really rattled him. He knew what some people thought. It didn't have any implications for them. Not at this level. "You wanna become a conspiracy theorist and pick up a copy on the way home? Teach me all about organized crime?"

Alvina repeats the mantra; don’t resurrect old crimes that can’t be changed here and now. Uma is a good person who works hard. Hudson tries and succeeds (more often than not). He had his snappy, spoiled attitude occasionally. He’s a man that needs to have control of any situation. She’s grateful for it, most of the time. It’s a relief to have a man take care of her instead of it being the other way around. Maybe she’s only dated bad men or maybe she’s grown accustomed to having almost anything she wants on demand. Maybe she’s spoiled too.

“Seeing it printed gives them confidence.” She sighs. If a paper is saying it, it must be true and important. She knows he knows this but wants to say it anyway. “Makes it more ‘real’.” The same way there’s a difference between thinking something and saying it outloud. Newspapers are just other people saying their own thoughts out loud. As loud as possible. And if there’s one thing people -love- it’s validation. His smile softens her. “Absolutely, I can’t wait to ‘fight the man’ while married to a rather sizable influence of the current regime.” More accurately - THE current regime. “Might make for some awkward dinner conversations though.” Not as awkward as that one had been.

Hudson chuckles and wipes his mouth with the table napkin, which he leaves on the table next to their paid check. "Well, let's get you a copy so you can start getting Fired Up," he says, enunciating these last words. The devil may care grin remains: he's unbothered, alright. He goes to get their coats and helps her with hers before shrugging his on. Outside it's windy, which makes the chill all the more noticeable. Their carriage is idling for them, and Hudson lets Alvina in but doesn't follow. "One sec," he tells her, and runs to the nearest newsstand, engaging in some brisk business before sprinting back and finally climbing into the carriage. "For you my queen," he announces, pulling the door shut behind him and depositing a bundle of newsprint into Alvina's lap: it's a copy of The Veritas. Indeed, splashed across the front page is an 'exposé' on Larket. Hudson watches Alvina scan it and then flip to the next page, which features an unflattering drawing of Uma. "Ouch," he comments, huddling close to Alvina and draping an arm around her as she pages through the issue. She stops on an apparent illustration of herself... albeit in the context of an article about how notable socialite about town Alvina Landon was spotted attending the holiday witch celebration (at which Valrae had given birth, but that detail is omitted). Indifferent to the illuminati-esque context being suggested, Hudson makes a delighted sound. "What a hottie," he declares, peering at the image. "Are your boobs really that big?" he asks, turning his attention on her briefly, as if to confirm. "Gods. I have to kill every man who's bought this now. So annoying, I don't have time for this."

Alvina slides into the carriage, abruptly turning to look after Hudson. What in Sven’s name… In a flash he's back with the paper, which he deposits in her lap. “Gods above,” she rolls her eyes at the headlines and frowns when she reaches the observations about Uma. “How can they treat her this way?” Alvina genuinely wants to know. The carriage rattles on the stone road while she studies this picture of Uma and then further in a picture of herself. She squints at the text in disbelief. “Why is this such a big deal..?” She doesn't understand why her attendance at the witch festival deserves the attention of this rag. Wait, how did they even -know-? “I don't like this…” She sighs, closing the paper and passing it off to Hudson before he remarks on her illustration. She shouts his name dramatically, cheeks flushed. “ Don't say that!” She fusses. Though it's secretly flattering that he'd go so far. The wine (even though it was only one glass) distracts her from the questions she should be asking about this paper. She leans into Hudson's side and smirks at him. “You don't have time to maintain your wife's good image and purity? How rude of you.” She teases. It isn't lost on her how easy it might actually be to kill (maybe not get away with) all the men who bought this paper. His playful annoyance is enticing. “Stooooop,” she laughs, all fear about the news paper evaporating from her mind. Hudson was invincible and could handle anything that nobody tabloid printed. “We still have a few minutes before we get home.” She flashes a mischievous smile. “ Come kiss your wife.”

Hudson roars with laughter at Alvina's flustered reaction. Pretty sure their driver heard her yell his name for literally no reason. He barely manages to recover his pretend seriousness. "Oh, no, babe. I will clear my schedule to personally murder every last guy who's had impure thoughts about this picture, which will have been like, a hundred percent of guys who saw it," he tells her, pointing to the very generous swell of cleavage in the illustration. "I mean look at this. It's like, who the hell does," he flips over the paper and reads the name of the editor with disdain, "Jules Egnasse, think he is, publishing pictures of my wife like this? My wife's secret attendance of lesbian witch pow-wows, or whatever this supposedly is, isn't for public consumption." She's pleading with him to stop, and he collects her against him. She's not really annoyed, because she invites him to kiss her. He indulges her, and after a moment places a hand on her head, which she ducks, swatting at him with impressive swiftness. "Oh, come on!" he complains, holding up an arm to shield himself from further swatting amid laughter on both of their part. "I took you to dinner! You ask the other moms at the birthday party what they did with their husbands. I bet they just got groceries or something. That was, like, an actual date." He catches her by the wrists. "Woman!"