RP:The Amazing Landon Subterfuge!

Part of the Larketian Fault Lines Arc

Summary: Hudson brings up the idea of breaking the witch detecting machine in Larket again after providing Alvina with evidence that it's being used to justify witch persecution and execution without trial in Larket. So they team up in this action packed adventure where they accomplish the job with some unforeseen consequences and rewards.

Academy Of Magic

Alvina isn’t entirely sure how to go about doing this in a way that isn’t completely obvious. People will see her; guards will have to let her pass with Hudson in tow. She sighs as they cross in Larket over the bridge. She’s wearing a riding mask and hood to keep the air out of chilling air out of her lungs. She feels like this is the part of the operation where she should outline the plan. Here’s how it goes… Instead, her throat aches from holding her breath. Wishing for a better option. Wishing she hadn’t made the machine to begin with. They’ll have to use her name to get past the guards. Security seems unusually tight as they approach the fort and they are stopped on the path outside the Academy of Magic. Cleo and Mercedes both toss their manes impatiently. “State your names!” A stout Larketian guard commands of them, perhaps more on edge because of Alvina’s face being almost completely covered. She pulls the riding mask back and away to reveal her pale freckled face. “Alvina and Hudson Landon.” Surely they’ve been seen here before, close friends with the Queen. The guard stares at her for a solid moment before gesturing for her to dismount. She shoots a nervous look at Hudson before jumping down. The guard holds his arms out to the side, making a rough “T” with his body and staring at her expectantly. “Oh right.” The engineer moves to mimic the motion while they wave an odd wand like device around her body. She’s unsure if they are checking for magic or weapons. It beeps near her arm, so it could be either. With a rough sigh, the guard nods. “Forgive the extra security, ma’am.” Alvina waves it off before the guards move to ask the same of Hudson. “Sir?” He gestures to the ground, waiting for the male to dismount before running the wand along his frame.

In bringing up the outstanding issue of the machine with Alvina, Hudson had thought they'd agree that his guys could take care of this issue, but his wife had assured him that it would be demonstrably more difficult slash impossible that way. She had to go herself. It makes him uneasy to involve her. They're barely on better footing with one another and this situation feels like a pressure cooker already, his wife isn't like him. She doesn't break bad. Even now, with this security checkpoint, he looks at her face as she struggles to realize the meaning of the guard's request for a pat-down. He goes next. The wand emits a sound as it glances over his time piece, and Hudson pulls back his sleeve and shows the guy, who peers at it. "That's awesome, what is it, moonphase?" he asks. "Yeah, my wife got it for me," says Hudson. The guard whistles appreciatively. "What do you do for a living, man?" asks the guard. "Real estate, Cenril," replies Hudson with an easy smile. "I need to get into that," replies the guard, waving them through and concluding this exchange. Hudson pulls on Cleo's halter, sparing a glance at Alvina as they walk. He waits until they're out of earshot to remark under his breath, "...Like you don't have a job or something." He lifts his eyebrows at her. "Where are we going?"

Alvina doesn’t say anything but she makes a face at this remark. Didn’t Hudson know her job was to mess up in any way possible? It’s a morbid remark, she’s glad she didn’t say it. She’s still feeling bitter about her own decisions in this capacity and others. She stops Mercedes just outside of the Academy’s doors. The school is imposing. She swallows hard. “Here.” This is where she’d built a machine responsible for placing targets on the backs of the Larketian Witches and maybe even innocent people that needed to be accused of something. To offer proof, a reason to persecute them. Alvina didn’t want to think about that. She slides off Mercedes and rubbed the bristly hair on her neck before tying her lead to the post outside. This wasn’t her bag. She did so in silence, trying to focus on making her breathing normal and even but each inhale feels like lead in her lungs. Weighing her down from the inside out. “It’s on the lower level.” She explains, like a bad accomplice in an action thriller. There’s no joy in this for her. It means a chain reaction of alienation and problems. Maybe Josleen’s mages could fix the machine. She’d have to figure out how to disable it beyond repair. She had a plan but if they couldn’t get the time to do it...it’d be a moot point. She re-adjusts her satchel strap against her shoulders, waits for Hudson to tie Cleo up and then turns to him with uncertainty in her eyes. Her face asking for the hundredth time if they -had- to do this while his stern expression insisted that yes Alvina this is necessary. She sighs through her nose and resigns before moving to open the doors. “Ready?” She asks, hoping she’s as prepared as she’s trying to look. Hopefully more so.

Hudson follows suit in tying up Cleo beside Mercedes. She snorts indignantly, somehow always bothered to be asked to do work and also bothered to be asked to stay put. She's a little high maintenance. He pats her between the shoulder blades with affection and then falls into step beside Alvina. "Alright," he says, reading the anxiety etched into her expression but not responding to it. He knows his wife doesn't want to do this. He doesn't want to have a conversation about it, it seems gratuitous to grind 'it's the right thing' into her, of all people. "Yep. I got it," he takes the door from her, waves her in. He glances around them as they enter the school. "I hate old stuff like this," he says, thinking of their home, with its sleek, contemporary design and furnishings. It's quiet inside, like a library. There are a few people milling around, paying little attention to them. Hudson feels his wife's body language is all wrong right now, it's obvious to him, who knows her, that she's anxious. If she were a cat every hair on her body would be standing on end. Is it really true that he couldn't have had his guys do this... They nearly pass by the descending stairwell and he catches her wrist. "C'mon," he says, tugging her in that direction. "How do we make this seem like you didn't do it?"he wants to know.

Witch Craft Research Department

Alvina stiffens beside him as soon as they walk in. He’s observant enough to notice, she’s bad at lying. Even in this way where she literally just has to walk through a hall where people know her face. She’s struggling to walk like a human being. Her motions look forced, like a puppet or mechanical automaton. “I think it’s classy looking.” She replied, but also she didn’t decorate their house. They paid some designer to do it and she enjoyed the contrast of the sleek modern style vs this old school decor. There’s something about it, maybe it is the library feel she finds appealing. Like any second she’ll pluck an old book of a shelf and whiff that old book smell that sets her at ease. Ahh. Was there anything better? This consoles her, lets her shoulders drop a bit as they turn to take the stairs. “We could ‘smash’ it so it looks like someone who didn’t know how it worked came here? But that’s a sticky wicket too because then witches could be blamed. “Maybe it’s better if they think I did it, so no one else will get blamed?” She offers. It’s not like Josleen could storm into Cenril and take her right? Or Frostmaw? Would Hildegarde protect her? Certainly Hudson’s connections could. Go into hiding, etc etc. UGH. The stairwell is large and descends into a room that’s buzzing with people. Technicians are viewing the hologram of Larket, watching for the little ‘fireworks’ that signify someone’s used magic. Alvina stops while they are just shy of being seen and offers Hudson a small container. They’d discussed this before. He had to use his alchemy to trigger the smoke bomb at the right time so the guards would think the unit was about to explode and evacuate to give them time to disable it. He’d have to wait for her signal. With a deep breath, she turns to walk the rest of the way down the stairs, offering a polite wave to those she knew before slipping off her robes and into her mechanic’s apron. It was routine for her to check in on the machine occasionally. Examine the components for wear and tear, mostly magical corrosion. None of the techs knew enough about it to fix on their own. Ancient Avian Technology, you know. Alvina had insisted no one else know how it works. It was part of her agreement to build it. Hudson just had to toss the smoke bomb behind the machine after she’d opened several panels. It couldn’t be immediate or they’d suspect something. A young male tech moves over to ask Alvina questions with she tensely answers. Ah yes, that’s right. Very good! You’ve been studying your runes. He claimed to be a student of Hudson’s at the Eyrie. They make a good couple in his young opinion. Alvina laughs too loudly and thanks him before turning back to fiddle and open needless panels while she tries to wait out the clock.

Hudson believes in doing the right thing but isn't above letting witches take the fall if it's between them and his wife. Sorry, witches, they do have two young kids at home. "I'd rather they not think you did it," he says quickly, pocketing the smoke bomb, because their time for discussion is at an end. This room has a lot of people in it. He mentally concedes that she'd been right, his guys couldn't have just Leeroy'd in here and done what was necessary. He regrets that his wife's too soft-hearted for him to have suggested a bomb, that would have been easier. People would have died, but sometimes you gotta break a few eggs to make the omelet. Downstairs, he and Alvina separate. As she kills time, he makes himself at ease by making small talk with one of the technicians, who compliments his wife's work in creating the machine. "Yeah, she cooks too, I'm so lucky I trapped her," he agrees, waving to Alvina, who has glanced in his direction. Probably wondering why he's engaged in conversation (to look less suspicious, DUH). The technician laughs, good naturedly. "I think your girls are the same age as my daughter," the guy remarks, "My wife's been making her a princess costume for the holiday. She wants me to be one too, the sister princess of her princess. Seems reasonable if you're three, I guess." Hudson LOLs. He likes this technician, feels bad he'll probably get fired. "What did your wife say?" "She thinks it's the funniest thing ever and is making my costume next," comments the technician, with grim amusement. Hudson digs his hands into his pockets. "I'm sure you'll make a beautiful princess," he comments, somewhat caustically. "Man, obviously," says the other guy. "The princess industrial complex wouldn't have it any other way." "Princess industrial complex," Hudson repeats, chuckling under his breath. "You laugh now, but wait until your girls ask you to be a princess." "No one in my house is interested in what daddy's dressing up as. However I told them to request their mother to dress up as a mermaid." "Well done." "You gotta plant the seed, man," says Hudson, realizing that his wife's now glanced in his direction for the umpteenth time. She is concerned he's going to miss the signal. This is so his wife, thinking that he's going to drop the ball right now. Man, is he not in organized crime? He INVENTED signals. Not really, but he's not going to miss the stupid signal. He feels the outline of the smoke bomb in his pocket.

Witchcraft Detection Radar

Alvina is unnerved by this seemingly innocent conversation taking place across the room. She smiles nervously when it looks like the tech notices her staring. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think she has a thing for you.” The tech observes hilariously. SO FUNNY HAHA. Alvina’s opened the largest panel in the back that holds the core. It looks fine inside. She takes a small bottle out of her satchel that normally holds a compound that dissolves magic corrosion and pours it against one of the joints. It hisses and sizzles quietly. She lets it go for a minute before she peeks her head out with mild alarm and looks at the tech talking to Hudson. “Greg, can you come here a second? I think something is wrong…” THAT IS THE SIGNAL, her glaring eyes remain fixed on the tech’s slow advance so she doesn’t give it away. She waits for Hudson to light and get the smoke bomb over by the machine so she can shout for people to get out. Obviously they’d cherish their own lives over witch detection. Once lit, the smoke bomb will begin generating thick grey clouds of opaque smoke. In two beats, it fills the entire room and Alvina’s moving into action. “Get outside! Something’s wrong!” She coughs, before pulling on her oxygen mask that she slips out of her satchel. She finds Hudson in the fog and hands him one too, smooth silent gestures on how it works like a flight attendant pantomiming how to use the overhead oxygen. Strap goes over your head, mouth piece goes over your mouth and nose, flip this switch to activate the oxygen portion of the enchantment and you’re golden. She made these for Khitti but dang it, they’ve come in handy. Once Hudson looks set, she moves back to the machine and finishes dissolving the rods around the core so the power source jiggles lose with her mechanically digits. The magical surge overpowers her arm temporarily. How could she forget this happens? It’s rare! That’s how! She’s using her right hand to shuffle through her satchel, smoke no longer billowing from the bomb when her arm goes limp and drops the core. It shatters from the impact, it’s a delicate piece of machinery and causes a bright flash of light with a heavy push back. Alvina’s sent a few feet back into a wall. The Map of Larket shimmers out of existence as do the fireworks and the basement is filled with actual smoke as the rest of the machine catches fire. Her left arm is still limp as she tries to stand. There’s a small cut across her left brow and several scratches on her right arm and back unseen, inflicted by the metal she’d smashed against. Where’s Hudson? They have to get out of here…

"She has a sixth sense for when I'm talking about her," says Hudson to Greg, his new best friend. Maybe after Greg gets fired he can offer to get Greg a more lucrative job making dust. Alvina's just made the signal, and Hudson waves his companion off. "Go see what that's about," he says, approaching the machine under the guise of appreciating his wife's handiwork. In reality, he's murmuring the alchemical word for fire, and triggering the smoke bomb, which he drops behind a plate of metal. It'll burn clearly away when it's finished, but for now it's spewing smoke aggressively. "Hey!" he shouts, deciding to be the person who notices it first. Whoever smelt it dealt it is right. His wife is shouting too, and others, the room is frenetic. He bumps into Alvina and without paying much attention to her instructional demonstration (who needs instructions) puts the thing on his face and fiddles a few times, incorrectly, before getting it working. This is a little weird, that they just happen to have these. Oh well. He heads toward her at the machine, under the pretense of hustling her out of there. Stop trying to go down with the ship, it's all gonna blow, etc. And then something DOES explode, and he and Alvina are blown backwards, he doesn't feel it at first. He feels a wetness on his face. He'd struck the wall. Her maybe, too, no doubt harder as she'd been very close to the blast. She's disoriented, trying to stand, looking for him. There's something wrong with her arm. "Baby hi, I'm here, I got you, I got you," he tells her, crowding against her. She feels a little floppy, he feels her body for wetness, signs of bleeding. He can't tell. No time to conduct a thorough investigation. He just picks her up. "C'mon," he says. "Put your arms around my neck, there you go. Hold on, stay with me." He pulls off their masks and stuffs them back into her satchel clumsily before he follows the sound of shouting, bumping into things, a rolling chair, he thinks. He nearly trips and drops her at the stairwell, but then he's relieved they've found it. The smoke has thinned out here. People on the main level are rushing toward the exits, and guards are rushing toward him. "Stay back, it's blowing up down there," he advises them, but they rush to the stairwell. "Are you OK, we're almost out," Hudson props Alvina up like a doll on a long file console and looks at her. She's a bit banged up but he doesn't see any major bleeding. She looks very pale, though, not all that present. He doesn't like it. "You're OK," he tells her, pulling her back into his arms. "Nononono don't pass out. Let's go outside."

Alvina’s ears are ringing, large church bells thrumming at a deafening volume. Her eyes are glazed over by the blinding flash that pushed them back. Her left arm is still limp, struggling to reboot after the magical surge from the core. She knew better. She knew better. That’s what she keeps repeating to herself as she feels herself floating through the fog. Besides the cut on her brow, there’s no significant blood loss. Just a wet spot near the shoulder of her left arm where the charge had passed into her scar tissue and reopened the old wound around the metal. She knew better. It’s not a life threatening injury but she’s dazed with pain and surprise. They really did accidentally blow up the machine. She feels no better about it moraley. She can’t think long enough to consider the flipped table of the situation. Her right arm stayed wrapped around Hudson’s neck until he puts her down near the filing console. It’s cold and the urge to sleep is strong, trying to tug her below the waves of consciousness but Hudson jostles her and her eyes widen, the blinding damage of the flash starts to recede to fuzzy black and white outlines. Her mouth tastes like blood, her bottom lip is cut but some errant piece of metal that whizzed by. The tip of her braid is burnt by the blast. Flames and smoke billow, black and hungry for the higher floors while the mages work to put the fire out with the guards nearby. There won’t be any evidence left behind that Alvina had done anything unorthodox but someone would figure it out. Her greatest fear was being discovered but this would buy them some time. Hudson re-gathers her in his arms and moves to take her outside just as the clinic healers rush into the building to treat those patients who’d inhaled smoke. They are moving everyone into the fresh air, a good distance away from the chaotic business inside. Various voices shout over the chaos, orders and other indistinguishable sounds blend together for the bard. It’s all varying chimes of bells in her ears. A healer stops them, offers to look at Alvina and shines a bright light in her eyes. Her pupils don’t dilate but she blinks at the unfamiliar blob. Had they been caught? She struggles weakly in Hudson’s arms as if she’s in any state to flee. The healer looks Hudson over too, asks him to sit down so she can see if he needs stitches. She’d remind Hudson of Joannie, an aged woman with a gentle smile and a tell-it-as-it-is personality.

Hudson wastes little time, once they're outside, setting Alvina down to let the healer have a look at her. He has a look himself. "I'm lycan, I'm fine, thanks, you need to look at her," he waves off any offers of help, directs the woman back to Alvina. He has a few cuts on his person, including a cut on his temple that's leaked a trail of blood down his face but he wipes it away with his shirt. It'll all heal quickly on its own, even faster if he shifts. Lucky for him Alvina doesn't build her machines out of silver. "She's bleeding at her shoulder," he directs the healer, who is well aware. "Her arm's not right, you see, it's not supposed to be like this," he points out. It looks very wrong right now. He rarely thinks about the fact that his wife is missing an arm, because her prosthetic has integrated itself so seamlessly into her life. Now she looks a bit broken, or rather, it's on display. "Thank you, I see that," replies the healer in a certain tone that suggests she doesn't appreciate him backseat doctoring. "Well why don't you DO something about it," says Hudson with sudden impatience, in the tone of a man who is used to having people listen. "Do you know who I am?" he asks her. "Sir, I need you to be calm," says the woman. Perhaps sensing that a tense situation is developing, a guard has approached. "Is everything alright here?" asks the guard. "We'd like to take your wife's statement." "You want to take my wife's statement," repeats Hudson, rounding on the guard with certain agitated-husband menace. "She's not giving you a statement right now, look at her, she's about to go into shock. Go ask any of the other non-injured people for a statement, we were all there. We're friends with the Crown, rest assured we'll give you a statement Just Not Now."

Alvina hadn’t had a chance to take her mask her off but Hudson did it for both of them before the healers can look at them. Or her. It’s all these little details she’ll scold herself about later. But then, they hadn’t expected an actually explosion. The healer is prodding at her face, it feels sharp but her nerves are stressed and sensitive. Her ears are ringing less but the voices she can hear are muffled and distant. She hears Hudson above all of them, angry and speaking to someone beside her. “HEY!” She says, too loudly at him, right hand waving in the direction she hears his voice. “WHAT IS GOING ON?” The healer grabs her good shoulder and shouts back at her, proving an impossible volume for the guards to talk over. They give Hudson a warning look, they clearly don’t know who he is but they are aware that Alvina and Hudson are guests of Josleen on occasion. They have to be up to date on all the Queen’s associates. Alvina’s staring into the magic light that’s hovering in her pupils while she wonders if they’ll ask her to build another machine since this one’s broken. How will she deny them? Feigning injury might work for a while, so she reacts a little dramatically to the blood on her arm to avoid further questions from the guards who hover nearby. She hisses, touching her hand to the opened wound. Wow, that’s a little ancient. The scar tissue is stripped away and the skin is both bleeding and burnt? It’s a strange sensation to think the blood feels GOOD on the wound. This must be a once in a lifetime experience. “I’M BLEEDING.” She shouts like it’s a new discovery but without alarm into the blurry face of the healer who is trying to close the wound. The healer looks at Hudson with annoyance, as if he’s responsible for his idiot wife while she cleans the wound with a wet washcloth. She rips the sleeve of her burned sleeve up to her shoulder blade to reveal the swollen patches of skin that are weeping blood along her pale back into shadows hidden by her shirt. It’s not BAD it’s just surprising. The worst of it is slowing with the rag’s pressure along the cuff of her shoulder. “HUDSON.” Alvina shouts matter of factly, “ARE YOU OKAY?” She tries to turn her head to find him in the blobs of faces she can’t distinguish. “I’M OKAY.” She adds, in case he’s concerned.

Hudson and the guards exchange meaningful glares. It's Alvina's shouting that breaks this unnecessary stand off. She's clearly in need of medical assistance, one guard taps the other on the shoulder, suggesting that perhaps they can circle back. Hudson nods and crouches beside Alvina, who is still shouting. He grimaces at the healer, who is now thoroughly sick of both of them.He takes his windbreaker off, halfway drapes it over her, takes her uninjured arm and threads it through the sleeve. "Yes, fine," he tells her about himself, repeating, "I'M FINE," when it becomes apparent that she can't hear him right. He says that, but he is a not little worried about her hearing, and how disoriented she seems right now, like she's having issues focusing and he's right there. They have two little kids! She needs to be able to take care of them. You take these things for granted. He stirs a hand against her back in what he hopes is a reassuring manner, but he's panicking a bit. This is what the money's for, he reminds himself. They'll hire the best specialists to deal with everything. "She is having hearing problems," he says to the healer, who of course agrees and shouts at Alvina, "MA'AM HAVE YOU GOT A RINGING IN YOUR EAR? I CAN CAST A SPELL BUT I NEED YOU TO NOT BE ALARMED IF YOU HEAR NOTHING."

Alvina is staring at the healer, her voice coming in a whisper. Her brows knit together with effort before she shakes her head. “I CAN NOT HEAR YOU. MY EARS ARE RINGING.” She replies, trying not to move, breath hissing through her teeth in pain. Now she’s dizzy. The nurse doesn't wait for Hudson's permisison before she wraps her fingers around the back of Alvina’s ears and mumbles some indistinguishable words that zap the ringing out of Alvina’s ears. She perks up, smiles with relief and thanks the nurse in a normal tone only she can’t hear her own voice. The healer looks at her and her mouth moves but she can’t even hear the muffled sound or the ringing. It’s alarming but Hudson is there and knows that’s happening so his presence calms her down. He doesn’t looked panicked does he? Don’t looked panicked Hudson. DO NOT PANIC. “This is annoying…” Alvina sighs while the nurse re-positions her so she can stitch up her arm magically. The metal of her arm is no longer hot, cooled instantly when the core dropped to the floor and shattered. “Sven, please…” She flinches while the healer applies a numbing agent for the pain. It does wonders to also stop the bleeding. “Hey, you’re hurt too.” She says, pointing at Hudson’s face. “Come here, I’ll heal you.” But Hudson is shaking his head. “What?” She asks, scrunching her face up with confusion. Oh right. Werewolf. “I forgot.” She says without clarification, shoulders slacking while the ointment steals the pain from her joints. Blood soaks into the table. Her eyes feel heavy. “He has to stay here,” She instructs the nurse, pointing with her bloody fingers at Hudson. “He’s my husband.” The words feel heavy and important on her tongue, like it’s the first time she’s said it. Her eyes fill with tears, she pretends it’s shock. Maybe it is. “Guh, I’m sorry.” She lies her right arm over her eyes so it casts a shadow on her face while she sniffles. The nurse looks at Hudson. “Newlyweds?” She asks ignorantly while the stitches thread themselves into Alvina’s skin. It’s difficult, because there’s very little healthy skin to bind it to towards the grain of her shoulder. It’ll have to be pulled away from the metal. Hopefully that doesn’t cause issues with the mechanical work later. “She’ll be deaf temporarily. Sometimes goes away in a couple hours, sometimes a couple days. If it doesn’t improve in a week, bring her back.”

Hudson is alarmed by the suggestion of the healer. "What do you mean hear nothing?" he demands, only to have her make an irritated shushing noise, as if he were a cat, and proceed with casting the spell to temporarily suspend his wife's hearing. His eyes widen just as Alvina's face registers the change. It seems to help, though, and his facial expression eases into one of cautious acceptance of the circumstances. It is also somewhat soothing that Alvina isn't shouting anymore, is endearingly trying to focus on him. He is hardly aware of whatever wounds he's sustained, they're superficial cuts that will go away on their own. "Babe, I'm not going anywhere," he tells Alvina, momentarily forgetting that she can't hear him. And then abruptly her eyes well up with tears, and he assumes that it's because she can't hear or is in pain from the stitching. Why is she apologizing for exploding the machine, his wife is ridiculous with her tendency to apologize for everything. "Yeah," he tells the nurse. "Does it hurt?" he asks Alvina, to no effect, because she can't hear him. The nurse reminds him of this fact, with seemingly more patience than she's shown him thus far. "She's got plenty of numbing cream, she's just rattled," she tells Hudson, who takes the hint. He rubs Alvina's back, looks into her face. "I love you," he says, slowly, in the hopes that she can read it. The healer is explaining to him that this is a temporary spell that will ease the discomfort of tinnitus and fade on its own. Seems a bit OP for people to be able to make people deaf randomly, he regrets being rude to this woman, who is probably quite accomplished to have been entrusted with such a powerful healing spell. "You're doing good," he tells Alvina, and then decides to give her a thumbs-up because the look she gives him is blank. He takes her free hand and kisses it. Ugh, that feeling of malaise again. He hopes the spell resolves her tinnitus sooner rather than later.

Alvina is crying for a short while. The nurse makes quick work of the stitching. While she finishes up, Hudson does this thing where he tells her he loves her and it grips her heart more. Damn him. She waves him away, bottom lip puckering as she fought more needless tears and tries not to let her face swell as she blubbers uselessly on the table. It’s embarrassing, per her recent track record with tears and altercations. Her insides tremble. Is the machine really broken? Did that explosion do enough damage to remove evidence of her tampering? The smoke bomb would have dissolved, leaving no trace. Enough of the panels had been removed to call significant internal damage even before the fire broke out. She hoped they used water to try and put it out instead of some oxygen depletion spell. Was that even a thing? She didn’t know. Hudson’s holding his thumbs up now and Alvina lofts her brows in recognition of what he’s trying to say. She’s doing good. LOL is she? Her expression softens, still apologetic but less stressed. It reads; ‘I think we did it.’ without looking too cocky. Her shoulder is numb, metal fingers still dead on the table while the nurse sponges the wound until the water runs clear before wrapping it in gauze to catch any blood that might try to sneak it’s way back out. The guards are walking back around and examining Alvina’s progress cautiously. They hover nearby before whispering amongst themselves. The larger of the two opts to approach Hudson again. “Can we get your statement sir? And your wife’s?” They look at Alvina who blinks dumbly and then looks at the back of Hudson’s head, like she can somehow read the creases in his hair to determine his thoughts. She can not. This is not a normal thing people can do. “I’m deaf.” She says to the guards, even though no one had asked her. They look bewildered and look to Hudson for clarification as the nurse goes off to examine some other smoke inhalation patient lined up outside the building.

Hudson is trying not to think about Alvina's dead arm. Surely that could be repaired. He's more focused on the indefinite timeline for the return of her hearing. They need to see a specialist in Cenril, surely something better can be done for her. The guards have approached again, interrupting this line of thought, and he pulls himself to his feet to address them. "She can't hear because of the blast, they put a spell on her ears to protect them," he explains, gesturing at the healer, who is wrapping things up with Alvina. "I'll write her a note so she can tell you what happened. She was doing some routine stuff down there and everything started blowing up. Honestly I was paying close attention, was talking with this guy," he lifts his chin, indicates Greg, "but it happened fast." A young and stocky man is approaching, and Hudson, recognizing him, glances in his direction. This is the thing, a perk, if you will, about being in organized crime: you have guys on your payroll whose jobs it literally is to keep watch and report on things. Those guys often include at least some guards: you gotta keep a few dirty cops, to keep relations good. So when they were summoned to check out the explosion, a note was dispatched to Cenril. And now Hudson's guy inserts himself into this discussion. "Boss. You want me to take the horses back? Call a carriage?" Hudson nods, and the man takes off. The guards watch this, an understanding dawning on them. For his part, Hudson crouches beside Alvina to reach into his windbreaker for a small notebook and pen. The guards hover over him as he flips to a blank page, writes, "Baby: [line break] Can you give the guards a statement?"

Alvina regards the men with tense shoulders as she takes the paper Hudson hands her and nods solemnly. She scribbles a similar story. She’d gone to check the machine for routine maintenance, there was some magic corrosion around one of the core rods. When she tried to investigate, it started to smoke and eventually exploded and started the fire they had to put out. It was very believable because of their injuries. Surely no one would plan that right? Of course they hadn’t but it didn’t hurt their case. Maybe they could convince the crown it was all a mistake and not intentional. She hoped and silently prayed to the gods. With another nod, she hands the paper back to Hudson who immediately hands it to the guards without reading it. They both knew the story. Alvina wouldn’t get last minute jitters and confess, right? The guards read the note and appear satisfied. “Thank you for your time, hope your injuries heal quickly.” And then they are off and Hudson’s man has reappeared to tell them their carriage has arrived. Hudson helps Alvina off the table and directs her towards the edge of the crowded street where the man holds the door for them and they disappear inside.