RP:Such A Nasty Woman

Part of the Larketian Fault Lines Arc

Summary: Valrae asks Hudson to meet. She angrily confronts him about the job she did for him, accusing him of setting the whole thing up through Sargaso to embarrass her. Hudson strongly implies that she's embarrassed because she showed up in a tartish outfit to seduce his friend. Valrae puts him on blast and asks him to break the witch detection machine that his wife has made, which is being used to persecute witches more aggressively than ever. Hudson wrongly perceives her to be blackmailing him, and orders her to leave.

The Witch-Run Nail Salon in Larket

A lavender scented, purple envelope addressed to H. Landon would be found, crumpled, in the pocket of whatever Hudson might be wearing. On paper sporting official nail salon letterhead, a message stating the date and time that Valrae I. Baines was scheduled to receive her last paycheck and a respectful request for the owner's attendance, Joanie's neat handwriting was scrawled in black ink and followed with her signature.

Hudson knows he doesn't owe Valrae any money, so he interprets the letter from Joanie to be written in the key of 'in case of clothes washing by wife.' Lavender/purple was always Valrae's thing. Here's an ugly metaphor. A spent relationship is a corpse. At first, it smells. It disgusts and poisons things around it with its decay. Vultures come and pick at it until there's just the bones left, bleached by the sun. The outline of something that once was, but not the whole thing. That's all Hudson has now of himself and Valrae, the lavender is one of the details that survived. He's not sure the letter is from Joanie at all. Anyway, he takes the meeting. He feels complicated about it. He doesn't tell Alvina he's taking it. He'd like to. He fantasizes about it, actually, as perverse as that sounds. He fantasizes about telling his wife that he's taking a meeting with Valrae. Inviting her to attend with him. Because there's nothing to see here. Saint Hudson. Except he's not that good, the truth is he'd rather not censor himself because of his wife. The truth is also it's a guilty pleasure to confide in Valrae, who has been through things with him, knows things Alvina will never know, for the sake of their marriage. It's like he gets to see an old friend who was walled off for a time (for good reason). What he tells himself, though, is that a conversation about Valrae, and his good intentions, would not be well received within the confines of their marriage right now. If appropriate, he'll tell his wife later. So he's here, alone. Upstairs at the nail salon. With a beer. Trying not to look like he'd put on his least dad jeans set of jeans for this.

Valrae would have thoroughly enjoyed the metaphor, and maybe even argued that a spent relationship was closer to an ugly stain on your favorite shirt and that there was really no need to be so macabre. If it won't come out in the wash, throw it away and find a new one. The letter was from Joanie, who had written hesitantly it on Valrae's request. Though Val wouldn't bother wasting time pretending she wouldn't feel anything by seeing Hudson again, without the crowd, she had motives for seeing him that didn't involve their tangled romantic past. The witch trots up the stairs uncharacteristically late for the meeting she set, blonde pony's tail bouncing behind her. She'd donned a giant, cozy red knit sweater and a tight black high-waisted cotton pants. Her feet were shoved in shearling boots. Her eyes were missing the usual dark kohl, making her seem younger and a little more fragile. "Hey," She chirps, entering the upstairs room and strolling toward Hudson airily. "What is the deal with you hiring me through some other guy? Why didn't you just write?" Her tone is a little accusatory, a little angry. She even steals his beer to drive home her point. Val's eyes slide over him, beyond him to The Couch. She clears her throat. "Look, I wouldn't have worn that outfit if I'd known, for starters. Secondly, if I'd have known I was going to be made to feel like some two-bit side whore I wouldn't have bothered to show at all." She crosses her arms. Never mind that might have been exactly all she was. She's to busy being angry to fully appreciate the non-dad jeans.

So, these last ten minutes Hudson has been looking forward to meeting with Valrae because he wants to laugh with her about Fitz's sexts. Of course, at the time of their revelation, it had been really unfortunately awkward, but now .. with some distance, and without the presence of Fitz and Sarge, he and Val can share a solid laugh. He hadn't anticipated the extremely basic hot girl outfit. There's a universal rule among women that requires them to get themselves in the hot girl zone to be seeing exes. It goes beyond not wearing your worst pair of jeans, the minimal effort he'd made. The rule is in full effect here. He's mid drink from his beer and chokes on it a little. Woof, he commends himself for his good taste. He's glad he didn't stealth invite Alvina, she'd have murdered him, just about now, like literally developed laser abilities in her eyes and murdered him. And Val is mad at him. This is so disorienting. He'd been wagging his proverbial tail to catch up (inappropriately) with his (inappropriate) friend (former mistress) and she's just yelling at him. "I didn't, uh, Sarge was supposed to hire someone," he pauses because she's still talking. Awkward, she mentions the hot secretary outfit. Yeah, the one she'd worn to seduce Sarge? Oh, this rubs him the wrong way. You know, she is in charge of picking out her own clothes, why is she putting that on him? He doesn't need this drama from her right now, holy s. How dare she come charging in here and accuse him of ... whatever this is. He hadn't asked for her. He has self-control, he loves his wife and is faithful to her wishes that he not see Valrae (mostly, he did take this meeting, but it's complicated), he also has too much going on in his life, is not some like ... pathetic and evil genius who concocts plans to see his ex mistress and make her wear hot secretary outfits, like don't flatter yourself, girl ... "Wow, calm down," is what Hudson says, looking at Valrae a bit like he expects her to suddenly breathe fire. "I told Sarge to hire a witch, he hired you, it was an accident. Chill," he tells her. "If you're embarrassed because you showed up in some ... 'outfit ' ... to hit on my friend I had nothing to do with that." Dial it back. "That's an awkward event that's now happened," he says. "It's fine. He has a girlfriend and cheats on her, just so you know." Alright, that had been unnecessary. But he's a little salty. Not his friends, man. He gets himself a new beer, because she's just taken the one he had. "Is that why we're meeting, so you can yell at me?"

Valrae felt like breathing fire. She tilts her head, glossy hair swinging, and narrows her eyes. He really just told her to calm down. Didn't all men everywhere know not to tell a woman to calm down when shes mad? How was this not a universal rule yet? Men were the single reason humanity was advancing at a such a crawling pace in communication... and probably world peace too. She snort/laughs in the way of women who don't actually find anything funny everywhere and drinks from her stolen beer. Her brows wing up then, when he says outfit like a dirty word and accuses her of trying to hit on his friend. She sets the beer aside, hard. "Just my type then, huh?" She quips coolly. There was hurt in her eyes but she didn't bother to voice it. He reminds her that picking a fight wasn't the real reason she sent him that letter but she's not ready to let it go. "I'm always cleaning up some mess for you. " She paces away, because standing close to him, looking at him is making this knot of unknown emotion form in her throat. "How apt that I'm taking a random job and it still manages to circle around to you and me but I'm the only one who ever walks away looking like..." She tosses her hands. "Like a damn idiot. A crazy one too." The witch cuts her eyes back at him. "How am I still paying for loving you? Why is it only me?" Her voice wavers, so she takes a breath. "You're just the happy little family man with some quirky job while I'm stuck being the whore you fooled around with. And on top of that, as if I haven't paid enough for just knowing you and your wife, me and my people are being hunted daily because the machine she made." Val crosses the room, leaving her back to Hudson, and stands in front of The Couch. She's playing dirty now, and she knows it, but she can't stop. She's bruised and sore from seeing Irenic, who had used magic to forget she'd ever existed. She's exhausted by the political climate of Larket and ashamed of how she ran when her people needed her help. And damn if she wasn't embarrassed that she was still just 'the other woman' when some people looked at her. The next time she speaks her voice is steady, the anger gone. "I wanted to see you and to ask you to break it. I need you to break it." She kicks The Couch. "I really need your help this time."

Hudson had felt the stupidity of his remarks about Sarge immediately upon speaking them but that's how it is. He'd sort of fired them off in the heat of the moment. Too late to backpedal now and tell her what he'd meant, because ho boy she'd just dunked all over him and he's just not going to go there. This meeting is brutal, not at all the amusing catch up sesh he'd imagined, stupidly, in his head. What had he been thinking? Had he even been thinking? He tenses his jaw and watches her pace, feeling a large helping of guilt for her being right. She does always fix his problems. (... Why is she being such a savage to him, though? Ouch, screaming at him is more or less a new role for her and he doesn't like it.) Then she puts Alvina in the crosshairs and his gaze turns to stone. Valrae's not so subtle with her lurking by The Couch, she hadn't needed to kick it to make her point. She wouldn't ... would she? It's just not the time for those types of revelations in his marriage. So not the time. He hates himself for putting himself in this position. And he hates this dumb machine. Had never supported Alvina's working on it. But she'd made a good faith error and he's not going to sell her out. They were on the same page now. "Sure," he spits at Valrae. The skin on his forearms is blisteringly itchy but he wills himself not to itch and give her the satisfaction. "She didn't know what they'd use it for. We've already discussed breaking it." That's sort of true but definitely not recently true. He'd stretched the truth because the subtext hurts him. His wife is not participating in the crown's crusade against witches because of what had happened with him and Valrae. How dare Valrae come in here and suggest that and try to handle him by threatening to tell on the incident on The Couch. He's angry with her, but also she's cut him in a way he didn't think possible anymore. Hadn't they had something, once? This is out of bounds. They're supposed to be on the same team. "I'll send you a note when it's done. Get out, we're done talking," he doesn't want to look at her anymore.

Valrae had turned and dropped gracelessly on to The Couch after kicking it, put her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. Even as the words had come out, she is bitterly sorry for saying them. Alvina had come to her home and told her about the machine herself, explained that she thought she was helping. Val had seen the sincerity in her eyes then, heard it on her voice. In truth, the idea of Alvina doing anything to intentionally hurt an entire community because of her feelings about Valrae was too ridiculous to even entertain. Even if it was the first, knee jerk idea that had come to her mind it had vanished quickly. But she was angry and saying anything she could to make Hudson feel just as angry as she did. She'd never meant to imply that she was willing to talk to Alvina about The Couch, going near it and kicking it while asking for a favor was definitely a mistake on her part, she hasn't even realized that was something going through Hudson's mind. She was just exhausted and frustrated and looking for a place to sit. "I know-" She interjects when he defends his wife. She straightens and drops her hands. "Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, okay? I didn't even mean it because I don't think it. Alvina already told me-" But Hudson cuts her off, tells her to get out. She recoils a little, as if his words were a physical blow. The tears she'd been holding back slide down her cheeks. "Fine," The witch whispers, hurt coloring her voice as she stands. She still doesn't realize that Hudson thought she was trying to blackmail him, so she really doesn't understand why he's so angry and she can't defend herself either. She crosses the room, arms around herself protectively because it's awkward and painful and the room is heavy with silence but stops at the door. "I really do believe Alvina had good intentions making that machine," There is guilt here, but it doesn't come close to the hurt. "Please don't tell her I said anything otherwise, I've hurt her enough."

Alvina told her? What does she mean Alvina told her? Hudson is too angry with Valrae to ask her, he points at the door. Her tears come way too late to soften him toward her. He assumes, because he's self-important, that she must be crying because he'd sided with Alvina. Well, what did she expect, she just broke the fragile trust they'd established over the course of their affair, threatened his wife. His WIFE. He should kept that in mind, never have taken this meeting with Valrae, this woman who continuously inspires poor decision making. "Look for my mail," he says tersely, shutting the door after she's left.