RP:Thanks I Guess For Everything

Part of the The Dust Up In Cenril Arc

Part of the Larketian Fault Lines Arc

Summary: Hudson, with no advance notice, visits a tired-seeming Valrae at her home in Larket. He gives her a duffel bag of "in case" money, and she apologizes for the harshness of their last interaction (when he fired her). He also tells her that his family is moving to Cenril, revealing that his friend Fitz is running for mayor, the implication being that if his friend is elected she can be pardoned for her alleged crime of mind control. For her part, Valrae says that in Larket she has found a family (witches) when she didn't have one before. They say goodbye awkwardly.

Behind a Hemlock Grove (Valrae's Home, Larket)

Hudson had gotten the address from one of the nail salon girls. In the end, maybe a little of his history with Valrae had leaked, or been scryed, or was to some extent intuited by the circumstances of their involvement and her abrupt departure. In any event, he hadn't asked right away, it had taken him a few weeks. He'd moved to Cenril during that time, he and Alvina had bought a home there, and left the big house in Larket full of unused furniture covered by drop cloths. He still comes back to Larket, of course, the lab is there, and the front business/nail salon itself. He's here at the end of the work day now, and he hadn't sent word that he'd be coming over either. He's not sure what he'd expected Valrae's home to look like, in truth he hadn't really thought too much about it. He keeps her out of mind these days, with less effort than used to be required. There's just a lot to deal with, these days, being busy and happy at home helps. He's not perfect. When he remembers that he and Valrae were together, it's usually in the context of Alvina seeming injured, and then the sensation is a bit like looking into an old diary and feeling embarrassment. (Had he really humiliated her like that? Ah, he had...) Anyway, being here now, in this place that of course is unmistakably like Valrae, unearths something long-buried, the sort of feeling you might have when returning to an old home or a place that had meant everything to you long ago but now seems foreign. He's in sweats and a salmon polo, and has got a duffel with him. He stops to pet Valrae's cat and then claps the owl knocker against the door, smirking at the hipster aesthetic of it.

The cat allows Hudson to pet him while giving him the typical, arrogant and kingly glance that is beffiting the haughty creatures before weaving back towards his garden. The red door swings open after a few short heartbeats. Lemon furniture wax and fresh bread scents would be the first sensation to greet Hudson. The next might be the sudden sound of the excited babbling that came from Maude in her broken common as soon as she recognizes Hudson standing the the arched door frame. The older woman greets him with enthusiasm, would squeeze his hands in a motherly way and maybe even draw him into a quick embrace. Glancing into the cottage would show high ceilings, cozy and cutely mismatched furniture, and walls covered in book shelves spilling over with books and crystals and other Val clutter. Fresh flowers were messily arranged on the wide hearth and kitchen table that was nestled in a bay window. Some spicy aromatics wafted from the cauldron that simmered on the cooking fire. Maude directs Hudson to the small path that the cat has taken and conveys that Valrae is there and not in the house. If he decides to follow the path to the garden, he'll find the witch there on the wide edge of her fountain. The cat weaved through her ankles, would give Hudson a long, oddly wise look before leaving again to perch on the fence nearest the forest. Valrae was clutching a bundle of freshly cut lavender to her chest. Her eyes were wide, not lined with kohl but with bruises and sleeplessness, and unseeingly fixed on a rose bush. A bowline with a pearled handle sat beside her. Her gold and honey hair was characteristically untamed and hung in messy waterfalls around her. The slanting afternoon sunlight haloed Val, her frame was thin and fragile under the pink cotton of the loose fitting dress. Fresh scrapes, cuts and bruises covered her arms, legs and face. Her feet were clean and bare. She sat straight and fixed, with a haunted look etched on the lines of her face.

The weirdness of his arrival dissipates for a hot second with Maude's enthusiasm. Hudson is unable to help himself, he grins widely and hugs her. He'd always liked her, and she'd been the literal only person who'd been supportive of their affair and thus because she had been part of their cabal she felt like family. "I had no idea you'd moved with her, so great to see you, Maude!" His smile is in his voice. "Did you do something with your hair?" he squeezes her hand as she pulls away, clucking at his flattery and leading him outside, to where Valrae is tending the garden. His chest tightens a little upon seeing her. It hadn't been that long, but he studies her in the interested way that men always study exes, to assess whether they've aged like fine wines or gone bad. What about her life, now closed to him, is available in her appearance? She looks tired, that's not a surprise, but she also looks to have taken a mild beating. It's not his place to comment, but he might anyway. Had she always been so frail seeming? Surely not? He saw her a few weeks ago! Why hadn't he noticed then that there's like nothing to her. Is it possible that maybe now he's simply seeing her differently, after all the anchoring point from which he looks at all women's bodies - Alvina - has shifted since they've had kids. No, no, surely she's changed a little. For his part, he looks hale as ever, could use a shave, etcetera. He realizes he's not speaking, and neither is she. His brow creases. He puts the duffel down. "Hey," he puts the greeting out there. There's warmth in it, although it also sounds in light confusion. "How are you doing, are you doing OK?" That's as close as he gets to 'commenting,' this small talk question that's pregnant with implication.

Still haunted by the images of the curse-gone-awry, Valrae had drifted deep into thought and failed to notice Hudson's arrival. His voice sent a jolt through her body and fear through her belly. Sounds slowly came back to her, the soft murmur of the fountain behind her and the chirp of bird song in the forest beyond. The witch's dark green gaze raked over Hudson, searching his face and person with apprehension straightening her spine. Was he real? There were no wounds or other horrors on him. He looked good, actually... And the dark visions seemed to have finally released their grip on her the night before. Her shoulders sagged as she dropped her gaze. "Hudson?" Her voice is soft and tired, her tone questioning. "What are you doing here?" Valrae shuffled the lavender in her hands, not daring to look in his eyes. Embarrassment was tightening her chest, now that fear had released her and she could fully comprehend Hudson's presence. The last time he'd seen her she was storming out of the nail salon like a child. Suddenly, the witch stands. "I'm glad you're here." She asserts, smiling. "I want to apologize for the way I acted."

Hudson watches a shudder of realization shake Valrae. She dodges his question, too. Maybe not intentional, that, maybe she's just that out of it. He offers her a tired smile. She's not looking at him, now, it's getting awkward. He guesses that has something to do with how she looks. (That is, off.) "I'm ah, here to talk about..." he rubs the stubble that roughs up his jaw, sucks in air through his teeth, "...current events." He nudges the duffel with his foot. Is she going to shoo him off her property? He hopes not, he's risking home life drama by being here. And to his surprise, the very abruptly apologizes, and smiles at him, and he feels knocked off balance by it. He takes a breath. "Yeah," his hand cuts through the air, waving it off, "it's fine, Val, you know," he's chuckling, awkwardly, "there's so much .. you and me .. uh, it's really .. It's fine." He looks at the cat, which blinks at him. "It's totally fine," he reasserts, his chest filling with air. He sighs, screws up his expression in a grimace at her. Specifically, he's thinking about that one time on the couch, why had he done that, sometimes he's so dumb. What a bad look that had been for him, that and then firing her pretty close in time. Literally could be a sexual harassment suit in the making. That's not what he's worried about, he's worried about who else could see in that night. "I'm sorry for what happened too, ugh, anyway. I'm here because I'm moving, to Cenril," he resumes scratching his face, looks down at the duffel, "..and that's great, but I feel..." His hand stirs the air, "...worried about you." He finds a little momentum now. "I sort of feel like I'm the reason you're trapped here, in this place and it sucks here for you, there's weird stuff happening." He frowns, grows his eyes as if to say, Obviously, that's putting it lightly. "And.. I know it's not a great look and you told me to shove it last time, but I want to give you that pile of money, you can do whatever you want with it. Like you can leave this dumb place with it and go off the grid, if you want."

The sun was warm on her shoulders, and Hudson's voice was comforting and familiar, and slowly the witch was coming back to herself. She deposits her bundle of lavender on the ledge of the fountain with the bowline and brushes her dress off. Valrae watches him grimace and wrinkles her nose back at him. He shouldn't be apologizing but maybe it was just things coming full circle, both of them feeling sorry for things that couldn't be changed. "Augh. No, really. I wasn't even mad at you. I think we both knew that conversation was coming the day I took the job." She gives him a long look and her lips twitch in a smile. "I was just grumpy and sad so maybe I took it out on you." There was a beat of quiet before Hudson pushed on to announcing his moving and his worry for her. His words hang in the air for a while. "Hey," Her tone is serious but her dark eyes twinkled with humor. "Sure, firing me wasn't good enough, huh? You're going to move somewhere where I will literally be arrested and, most likely, killed upon entering - I get the message." Val tosses her hands up in surrender. "No more bunny boiling, stalking, general crazy-woman activities." Her sideways smile turns melancholy. "But no really. Congrats, I get why you're leaving." A heavy sigh escapes her lips and pushing at her hair, Valrae slides back onto the fountain seat. She looks away from him, towards the bag, and narrows her eyes thoughtfully. "It's not your fault, Hudson. I could have moved anywhere. I could have done anything. I chose here and I'm glad I did. I've made a home and I have a family-" She looks back at him now. "The closest I've ever known to family, anyway. I love it here and I want to stay... Whatever happens."

Hudson grimaces in a manner that suggests that Valrae had really hit a bit Extra with that observation about moving away from her. Ahh, she's savage! He chuckles into his hand and lets his gaze fan out over her backyard. Really does look very much like something she'd create. Seems a bit like she's teasing with a hint of truth, and she's not dwelling on the topic there. He clears his throat and looks down at the pathway beneath his feet as she mentions a family. That's a little awkward. He wonders if it ever won't be a little awkward. Probably not. It wouldn't be right. He nods slowly, relieved that she's ending her thoughts on a positive note. It's true, she does have a community, although it's being oppressed. "Yeah," he runs his hand along his jaw, "you've met nice people here. And in all seriousness, we're not moving because of you. That would be a little much," he says, his gaze cutting back to Valrae. He reaches down to pick up the duffel, and places it at her feet. "I think if it were just us," he continues, "we would stay." What he means is: we're not placing our daughters at risk. He considers Valrae. "But so you know, an old friend's running for Mayor in Cenril," he tells her. "I'm gonna do what I can to see him elected."

Valrae is very proud of her home, especially her garden, and would beam with pride if she were a mind reader. Alas. Her teasing was lighthearted and maybe used as a mask to hide the sadness that had wormed it's way into her chest. She waves her hand dismissively when he tries to reassure her that they weren't moving to Cenril for anti-stalker reasons. Her smile is a little melancholy, a little faraway. "It's alright. I know the world doesn't actually revolve around me," She looks at him again and suddenly she's back to the time her world began and ended where the walls surrounded her apartment. When she was somehow infinitely younger and more reckless and breathlessly, hopelessly in love. Something in her chest ached, perhaps the space that love once filled, and Valrae wondered how such little time could change everything so completely. She would always love Hudson, for his smile and his humor and the understated honor he carried himself with and still... So much had changed. Hudson brings her back now, moving the duffle and bring it to her attention. She blinks. "Oh," The witch nods. "I understand, really I do." His next words have her golden brows arching in surprise. "Honestly?" Her voice betrays the stirring in her chest. The ocean was suddenly close enough that the break of waves filled her ears. The witch would always long for her first home. She stands again. "I... That would be..." Floundering, she tucks at her hair. "I wish you the best," Tentatively, she reaches to touch the back of his hand. "Seriously, in everything. I hope Cenril is great and I hope you're happy. I... I'm going to miss you. Is that okay to say? I mean, not in a creepy way even- I just mean I'm gonna miss having someone to drink beer with and talk to when my life is hellish and to give me random jobs and or money to help with things that are definitely not always legal or safe and not judging me for my obviously questionable morality and..." She runs out of air, takes a breath before finishing more slowly, ".. Just being a friend I guess. You're the best guy I know." She drops her hand and ends her awkward blurt of honesty. "So uh, just I'll miss you and thanks I guess. For everything."

Hudson makes a strangled noise of amusement in his throat as Valrae jokes about the world not revolving around her. But it had for awhile, hadn't he doused his whole life in kerosene and set it on fire for her? Those business trips and late nights telling Alvina he was working, coming home freshly showered. How he'd been messily all over her the few times they'd been in public together, with no regard for who might bump into them. How even after they'd ended things, she'd haunted Alvina. There had been that one day when her arrest had been in the papers, and he'd gone to pieces in front of Alvina, who had... consoled him. He presses on these memories like a bruise, lets his embarrassment act as chaperone. Valrae looks tired, frail, yes, but she's still herself and this hope she is trying to suppress, this quaver in her voice, pulls at his heart a little. (Ah, that old feeling of splinting her broken wings. More dangerous than any drug he could make. He is aware of it, looks at his feet until the feeling subsides.) Yeah, of course she gets what he's trying to say: if he gets his buddy elected, she might get a pardon. He sucks in a deep breath as she tries to say goodbye, at least that's what this sounds like, she's right. He rallies, looks up and grins awkwardly at her. "Easy," he chuckles, because he's getting embarrassed again. He's not the best guy she knows!!!!! He cheated on a good woman, come on, Val! He rubs his face a little. He thinks about saying he wishes things weren't so messed up, but he doesn't, that would be getting a bit too close to the proverbial hot stove. Instead he says, "Yeah. Well. I'll still be working out of upstairs at the nail salon sometimes if you need money. Seriously." He makes no offer to drink beers with her, same rationale. He should get going. He offers her a rueful, drooping smile. "Tell your friends to vote for Fitz Johnson," he tells her. He holds up a hand in a wave, the most awkward of goodbye gestures considering the history. "See ya. Take care of yourself."