doc-hudson

[doc-hudson]

"I mean, I'm no serious scientist..." Paul joked back as he let his glass down for the first time in a good while a second, which, unbeknownst to him, also signaled a brief pause on his wallowing in his misery, gave him a chance to distract himself from the ineffective distraction that were both the alcohol and people-watching.

It was a curious thing, that: Jess had this genuinely gentle way about her that made even the grumpiest old man (see: Paul L. Hudson himself) lower his guard and want to play along for a little while.

"Keepin' it simple right now, but I may ask for somethin' more festive-like later -I mean, who am I to deny Jared the joy o' preparing somethin' more complex and maybe gettin' some o' those sweet, sweet extra sales?"

Truth was, he didn't quite feel like indulging or that he had anything worth celebrating-

-buut that was a Seasonal Affective Whatever and the world having a fucked-up sense of humour thing and the wonderful people at The Court had no reason to suffer for it too.

Specially not Jess.

"Got anythin' interestin' planned for New Years? Any big ideas or shows we should look forward to on 2025?" he said, now raising his glass and moving it around as if it was a microphone and this whole thing was an interview.

@notbad-justsungthatway

In the Mood for a Melody || Open

[doc-hudson]

So, huh. This was a thing that was happening-

-the truth is, Paul's chivalry was terribly rusty and he was mostly playing it all by ear right now (when not being a silent panic, that is), it had been years since he'd even remotely considered doing anything that could be considered vaguely stereotypically romantic.

Specially not in an heterosexual way.

But, hey! so far, so good! Collette didn't seem to mind and maybe this whole thing was like using a muscle one had neglected for a long time: kind of painful and far from perfect, but necessary least it became completely atrophied.

And she scored a free drink, so it was a win-win. Kind of. Maybe.

"Peppermint bark latte, yeah, got it" he echoed, following her movements and staring at the menu before looking back at her, her wide smile and the twinkle in her eye.

She gave him a little tap, then was on her merry way.

And, for a second there, when Collette's back was turned, Doc could almost pretend she was someone else and that this was the first time he was acting a complete fool-

-but then reality crept in, reminding him that, this wasn't her, for she would be the one calling the shots (literally and somewhat figuratively) and he'd probably be the one sitting by the window.

"Ah" he finally exclaimed, with a shrug, before moving up to the counter and ordering their drinks.

Women were wonderful and mysterious creatures, he mused.

That's why he fancied them every now and them.

@collette-richards

it’s my season | open

[doc-hudson]

Winter was here, and with it came a myriad of troubles for Doc.

His bad everything leg had been acting up recently due to the lowering of temperatures and that, in turn, made keeping him in good spirits an extremely difficult task-

-and, as if that wasn't enough of a bad thing the last few months hadn't been exactly the best for him, the world had faced him with a very unfortunate mix of past and future: a kind of scenario that had birthed just the kind of thing he'd tried to avoid by first being way too harsh, then by being way too soft with others and...

Ugh.

Time was a circle and Paul Leonard Hudson was trapped on it, unable to break free.

Needless to say, he needed a drink (or two, or twelve) to try and make himself forget, if only for a moment.

"Well..." Doc said, greeting Jess with a slightly strained smile "I'm runnin' a very real an' very serious research on how long it takes for the inevitable 'The Court of Miracles meets Mean Girls'-esque sorta rendition of Jingle Bell Rock to happen, you see"

He then took a sip of his whiskey.

"How 'bout you, Jess? Wanna take a seat and tell me 'bout your day while yours truly continues doin' some world-changin' research?"

@notbad-justsungthatway

In the Mood for a Melody || Open

[doc-hudson]

Hatter's was...well, it was Hatter's.

Now, that description wasn't supposed be despective in any way, on the contrary: Hatter's was so unique that Paul couldn't, for the life of him, think of anything that could quite compare.

It was a Swynlake thing, he figured, everything existed in a rather unapologetic way, unafraid of being what it was -Hatter's didn't feel like one of those fancy cafés where everything had to be rustic, one-hundred-percent organic and served by a bisexual teen with a nose-ring, nor like one of those that were decorated by pastel colours and gold, selectively-minimalist and awfully expensive ones, no: Hatter's was just Hatter's, a little bit classic and a little bit kitsch, homely but also full of life and...well, Doc could almost swear there was at least one bisexual teen with a nose ring among the baristas, but that was probably the only stereotypical thing about it, really.

So, yeah, he felt like Collette's enthusiasm was perfectly justified: the atmosphere in that kind of place was a little bit contagious, made you feel like you could lower your guard and-

-aaand Collette walked as if she was dancing on air, just looking back when she wanted to tell him something and then suddenly her hands were on his arm and-

-Paul needed a second to compose himself then shake his head and take a couple of steps to his right, trying to gently resist the way she was 'pushing him away' so he could search for a seat.

"No, no, 's my treat" he insisted, gently patting Collette's closest hand "I'm not lettin' you pay for anythin' 'till you're completely sure it's worth it"

Sure, he was all for feminism, gender equality and what-not, but he also thought that the best way to go about things right now was to pay for her drink, it had been his idea to take her there (...well, kind of?) so it was only fair.

Another good thing about Hatter's was that while the Menu options weren't particularly wild they also weren't boring: the drinks were so good that blindly choosing a drink was less of a risk of money and time than doing the same thing anywhere else -so chances were that whatever Collette choose would be good.

"'m takin' the orange, vanilla, and spices tea, 's holiday special" he said, moving his hand from Collette's to point at the beverage's place on the menu then taking a couple of steps to the left as she once again tried to correct his direction "what 'bout you? you seen anythin' that strikes your fancy or anythin' like your usual?"

@collette-richards

it’s my season | open

[doc-hudson]

Paul Leonard “Doc” Hudson as MORNING

@doc-hudson

[doc-hudson]

While the whole situation might be considerably odd for outsiders, Paul found if rather...heartwarming, in a way.

The whole thing about him having Disgruntled for days had started as a joke, sure, but there was some sort of comfort to be had behind the idea of it: the fact that he could be useful-

-no, that wasn't it-

-there was something nice in having some parts that would generally be considered unsightly be now...cherished, in a way, in knowing that even when he wasn't feeling particularly stellar he could still offer someone something that might be valuable for them in the long run.

It felt like being accepted, warts and all. Valued.

And, yeah, he knew that he was thinking waaay too much about basically nothing, about a normal part of a process that Sorcerers had to go through every once in a while, but it still felt pretty nice to feel like a good probably-friend (work acquaintance? partner in crime? he'd never been particularly good with labels), like he was helping and in turn receiving a silent: 'I see those less-than-ideal parts of you and think they, you, are valuable nonetheless' .

"Yeah, I'll keep in mind" he said with a nod "You take care o' yourself, too!"

It was almost unfair, really, how much a little incidental thing could brighten his day but all he'd done in return was distract Hera for a moment (and maybe make her drink a caffeine bomb).

He made a mental note about doing better next time they saw each-other, about trying to return her kindness.

But in the meantime...

"Well, an effort was made" Doc muttered to himself as he lowered his eyes a second, stared at the plastic cup, then decided to look for the nearest trash can.

The 'caffeine-based atomic bomb' had won this round.

@thesorceress-hera

May I? || Open

[doc-hudson]

This whole situation was rather curious, but the thing that Paul found the most fascinating was how laid-back Collette was, her laugh.

She struck him as the kind of person that made things feel...simple, that seemed to walk on air, had an unwavering, contagious, kind of ease.

Meeting someone like that was always nice, it kind of reminded him that not everything was tinted in grayish colours like his mind sometimes made him believe, that there was still people around that didn't just saw things differently but could also make others look through their eyes for a minute.

Swynlake had played a trick on her and she laughed, the actual direction of the West evaded her and she smiled like it was no big deal. It was...admirable, in a way.

"Pleasure 's all mine, really" Paul said with a smile of his own, slowly relaxing as they walked, eventually reaching the tea shop's door "and 'm all ears"

It must be an interesting story (and if it wasn't then surely she would find a way to make it sound so anyways).

"How's Swynlake so far, are you likin' it?" he asked, figuring that while simple, it seemed like a good question (one that wasn't terribly invasive) as he opened the door for her, then followed her inside.

"Well, here we are! Town's quintessential hangin' spot and best seller, Hatter's. Wanna take a look at the menu?"

@collette-richards

it’s my season | open

[doc-hudson]

'An old friend' she says...

It's funny in a dark way: Seamus had been genuinely worried about the whole thing ("I ain’t bein’ dramatic. She’s gonna try an’ kill me") and yet here Majke was, saying they're old friends and showing no signs of animosity whatsoever.

The thought of it makes Paul's smile become a little fonder, a little easier.

He shouldn't be smiling while the other was complaining about not receiving a previous heads-up about the whole Collective Dream thing, he knows, but it can't be helped.

"I got lucky. A friend o' mine -you might have seen 'im 'round before, his name's Waldo 'n he reeks o' alcohol but he's a nice guy, I promise- told me all 'bout the Swynlake shenanigans relatively early on"

Still, it had been almost...what, two years? before he'd actually had one the dreams he'd been looking forward to instead of those little strange incidents like the time Seamus had been turned into a duck, or that one time with the clay-like things during Halloween.

'those dreams pull out traits about us that we deny, too.'

"I guess, but there's also many ways the dream version isn't quite us, I reckon"

Dream Paul had been just a mostly normal dude, some guy that just so happened to be a Greek God's son instead of a grumpy old man that had ruined his own life and taken the wrong choices time and time again, that refused to get close to others in fear of hurting them, that-

'maybe you're a softie on the inside and just need a little more affirmation.'

-that was tremendously easy to read, it seemed.

"Well, I guess it wasn't meant to be" he shrugs "I don't see the appeal of that whole Regency Era thing, so I guess it was for the better. But 'm glad to hear that you had a relatively happy marriage durin' that one"

It had been a convenience thing, Seamus had said, but Paul can't help the dull little ache that forms somewhere in his chest when he thinks of it, when Majke's expression softens as she recalls 'living her best life' alongside that friend of theirs, when he thinks that chances were that Seamus had enjoyed it, too, that this two people kind of made a good couple, at least in theory and-

But he tries not to get too caught up in those thoughts, knowing he might reveal too much and make things unnecessarily difficult for everyone.

"'m Magick-adjacent, myself. Gifted"

Not too Magick to be actively discriminated against, not not-Magick enough to be a Mundus.

"Light magic sounds mighty interestin', though. Lock-picking can only get you so far, but light 's a whole other league, way more versatile me thinks " he jokes.

'So, now that you've had one, are you looking forward to others? Or are you... not a fan?'

"I dunno, I might need to have another couple o' 'em before I can tell if I like 'em; But I guess the good thing 'bout it all 's that now I kind of know what to expect and can be ready for future ones"

As ready as one can be, at least.

"What 'bout you? Are you lookin' forward to the next one or would you rather just have a normal night's sleep even if that means you won't have a pretty unconventiona-yet-good excuse to meet new people?"

@majkemaniiia

The Unfortunate Experience of Being Known || Doc & Magica

[doc-hudson]

"Yeah, 's somethin' else" Paul admitted, slightly tilting his head as he did so "I guess messin' with people 's Swynlake's own special way of welcomin' 'em"

It didn't make much sense, it theory, but...

"'s an equalizer, kind of" he said, shrugging extra-carefully as not to hurt his bad shoulder "no matter who you are, or where you come from, Swynlake will mess with you for a little while"

Or maybe he was trying to make sense of something that simply was and had no deep meaning whatsoever.

'I think tea sounds lovely!' said the woman.

It took approximately fifteen seconds and the subsequent use of 'honey' for Paul to understand what those words entailed beyond, well, the fact that tea did sound lovely.

He hadn't meant it that way, but now the woman (Collette Richards) was getting closer and-

"Hatter's 's always right next to Garden Grove and if the Fire House 's over there right now, then..." he muttered, looking away from Collette for a second, trying to make sense of the surroundings and...

(Well, damn, she was kind of beautiful even when looking at her with just the corner of the eye).

"...that means we should walk west"

We.

Why the hell not? He couldn't just abandon poor Collette and it wasn't like he had anywhere else to be right now -he might as well join her for a while.

"Paul Hudson, at your service" he finally replied, looking back at her "You new in town, then?"

@collette-richards

it’s my season | open

[doc-hudson]

Paul, meanwhile, didn't particularly mind Fall.

Now, it wasn't like he hated the season, it was just that...he didn't find it as extraordinary as Summer tended to be -it didn't have bring him the same nice feeling as when he thought of past vacations, warm weather or this indescribable lightness and simplicity that he'd associated with the warmer months.

Fall was, to him...meh at best and a prelude to cruel Winter (when his bones ached the most) at worst.

Sure, it had nice things like pumpkins, apples and big sweaters but those weren't as charming, not to him.

'Oh, excuse me!'

Ah, that was another part of Fall he found rather curious: it sometimes summoned a new wave of people to Swynlake, be it to join the normal Fall activities around Town, or the other, more unconventional ones (the ones that had the potential to end up as a Town Disaster but probably made for good stories).

"Don't worry" he replied with a lazy smile "you probably 'ren't wrong, 's just that the Town likes to mess with tourists 'n newcomers by occasionally shufflin' the streets every which way"

It sounded like an excuse but it was just the way things went.

"I suggest you stop for a minute, take a breath, maybe buy yourself some tea 'n then try again"

@collette-richards

it’s my season | open

[doc-hudson]

Oh, Paul knew (or at least had a vague idea of) what the offer entailed, how...intimate it was: he knew that such knowledge of the craft was generally reserved for the Sorcerer's apprentice and nobody else, specially not an barely-magic outsider.

He knew it was a sign of kindness, that trust was a big factor there.

And that was exactly why he was reluctant to accept, even if he did want to know, to take a step closer to Hera's craft -to the things that made her feel...happy? useful? part of something?

He wasn't- he didn't feel like he deserved any of that: did not think of himself as someone anybody could or should trust, not someone worthy of such a big offer.

'You started it' she said.

And, fuck, he had started it, eh? And, as always, was trying to run from the consequences of his actions, even the arguably good ones.

Old habits died hard.

"Yeah, 's no problem -got Disgruntled for days" he joked "'n nuclear coffee, just like problems and joy alike, 's best shared with friends, I guess"

'I'm delivering triplet werewolves on thursday'

"Oof, that's gonna be tough. If you need help with that, or with anythin', really, you know where to find me, hm?"

@thesorceress-hera

May I? || Open

[doc-hudson]

See, this whole thing is a little complicated and the more Paul thinks about it, the more he feels like this whole thing is rather pathetic.

Was it wrong to care for a dream, a literal dream, so much? Technically nothing about it had been real, technically it all had faded away once the last person had woken up in the morning and there was nothing substantial to get out of any of it; It had been a collective illusion and nothing more, but-

-it couldn't just mean nothing. The connections he'd made still felt somewhat real, caused a real ache on his chest when he thought about them all: about half brothers and sisters and friends in arms that technically didn't exist but had made him happy even if only once upon a dream.

She says she's fine.

And she looks fine: not particularly nostalgic or overly attached to all that had happened, except maybe for the way her mind, her voice, trails off for a second there when talking about the things she apparently seemed to miss.

'-probably just me being nostalgic for a life where I don't pay rent.'

It is a good excuse, yeah, but Paul can see it for what it is: an excuse.

But he knows better than to try and push things, specially when talking to a stranger.

'What about you? Are you doing okay? First dream, or...'

"'s it too obvious?" he jokes, giving her a (not so) guilty smile as he does so "Yeah, I somehow managed to avoid previous ones but I guess my luck ran out"

Swynlake had won that round. And, luckily, this dream hadn't been a particularly crazy one all things considered: sure, there had been a big battle amongst Gods and things had seemed bleak for a second there at the end (every story, he guessed, needed a dramatic plot twist and that one had been no exception) but it hadn't been...mind-shattering bad, it hadn't turned into a nightmare -so he'd counted it as a win, a 'I guess it was a good one' on the scale of Swynlake Dream Fuckery.

'Kind-hearted big-brother figure. The sort who listened to all the Hermes' kid woes'

"Ah, yeah..." Paul mutters, making a face at that, feeling...somewhat guilty "yeah, no. That was just dream me, real me 'sn't actually- the only thing soft 'bout me 's my hair"

Real him wasn't...that socially inclined.

"Yeah, was outta Town durin' the last one, you see" he 'explains', and-

-something clicks in his mind.

Her name is Majke.

It's familiar -real-world familiar, not only a dream-familiar: he's heard that name before.

But, where?

"What 'bout you? It doesn't seem like 't's your first Rodeo. You a native, magically-inclined or just couldn't care less 'bout oniric whatevers?"

@majkemaniiia

The Unfortunate Experience of Being Known || Doc & Magica

[doc-hudson]

On one hand, this was an opportunity Paul knew better than to waste-

-but, on the other hand, it could also be disastrous: Now, it wasn't like he'd been pretending to be an expert or to remotely understand the topic, but he'd criticized Hera's asshole ex-husband back when the man had showed up at her door.

Damn. What kind of hypocrite was he? He was, after all, someone else's asshole ex-husband (the only difference was that he knew slightly better than to try and reconnect. He'd cut his losses and just let things be)

That's why accepting the offer felt so risky: there was potential for his semi-functional-person act to come crashing down, of Hera discovering and rightfully criticizing him for his actions in that particular regard (and, really, he wouldn't blame her), of their friendship slash working relationship getting completely ruined just because he couldn't- because he didn't know how to properly love others without causing some serious damage in the process.

He'd probably end up being judged, just like he judged people for self-medicating instead of letting experts do their damn job.

Those were, after all, their professions. It was only natural for them to-

'Well, you wouldn't be imposing, since I offered. And I would make sure that you weren't in the way.'

She smiled while saying that. Yet another reason to try and avoid the worst case scenario.

"It'd probably be like tryin' to explain quantum mechanics to a toddler, you know?" he joked.

Shit, he'd probably said too much with just that phrase.

"But yeah, I'll think 'bout it -sleep 'n it for a while 'n all that"

Maybe she'd eventually forget about the offer or maybe he'd muster up enough bravery to go through the terrifying ordeal of being known.

"You're way too generous; And I- thank you, sincerely, I really do"

@thesorceress-hera

May I? || Open

[doc-hudson]

'You might be surprised how many people seek a love witch's help, even for the smallest thing'

"I guess they think you also do psychology" Paul joked.

Though, to him, the scenario kind of made sense: sometimes people needed a different type of guidance and, well, who better than the local love sorcerer to offer them a hand during the specially trying topic that was love in all its possible forms?

"Must be hard, now that I think o' it" he said, taking yet another sip of his drink, then making a face "Mundus' works are simple, like, one doesn't ask the mechanic for help with their dental hygiene: the things one expects from a person 're...very specific. And then there's Magick's, where I feel like people expect you to do all those magic things like collectin' reagents, brewin' and designin' while also lookin' after their physical and mental health. You know what 'm sayin'? Sounds like a lotta work"

A lot of work most people probably took for granted or simply didn't think much of.

And then came the offer:

'Why don't you sit in one day, when you're free?'

Paul's eyes widened at the proposal.

"I..." he began, very obviously taken aback by the offer: sure, he'd love (heh) to see to see how things worked, the tiny processes behind the (heh) magic and how all the tiny little pieces connected and made things work-

-but on the other hand...he'd probably be risking whatever respect Hera felt towards him, like...what would she think if she were to find out that he was terrible at that specific topic? that he was unable to love others without ruining everything?

"I dunno, I wouldn't want to impose or be a burden"

@thesorceress-hera

May I? || Open

[doc-hudson]

'Unless that wasn't you and just the figment of you.'

Oh, that phrase makes Paul stop and think, really think, about it all.

There's a point there, something he hadn't thought about (once again, this was his first experience with Town Dreams (TM) and everything was new): the person in the dream hadn't exactly been him per-se, right? Sure, it had been him in a way, but...a different kind of him.

What, exactly, did it take to be Paul Leonard Hudson-Garth? Was he the result of his experiences? his upbringing? Was he still himself if he'd lived ("lived") a life where everything had been different, when he himself had been different in all but name?

Had this person really, really, met him or just a make-believe version of himself?

"Now, that's a riddle for the ages, 'sn't it?" he finally says, posture relaxing before he takes a sip of his coffee and decides to push those previous thoughts to the back of his mind ("out of sight...") "what makes a person 'hemselves an' what was just the dream, I mean"

He follows her movements.

"We haven't met per-se" he conceded "But a part of us did. An' I guess I want to believe that accounts for somethin'"

He could remember the brief times they had met in dream: she had been younger and far too busy with other things but his dream self had still felt a silent kind of protectiveness towards her, a sort of silent understanding , of kinship.

Which was kind of difficult to maintain when she got a little bit flirty.

It wasn't like- look, she was beautiful and, he supposed, and her conversation was kind of enjoyable if one ignored the potential existential dread it had the potential to cause; But- yeah, he wasn't feeling it.

Like, at all.

So he laughs instead, shaking his head 'no' and letting it slide.

'No, but seriously, what can I do for you?'

"Nothin', really" he shrugs "Guess I just wanted to check 'n you, make sure the dream didn't affect you too much -I've heard a lotta people complain about post-dream dysphoria before"

And while he didn't know how to change (or face) it, he figured that talking about things may help a little -that had sort of worked for Seamus before (except not really, but Seamus was a right mess regardless of the dreams, so...).

"The name's still Paul, by the way. You're...?"

The Unfortunate Experience of Being Known || Doc & Magica

[doc-hudson]

Now, Paul had known about the Town Dreams for a while now -he had so much theoretical knowledge that he'd thought himself ready to face one head-on, ready to, as that one man on the TV usually said: 'improvise, adapt, overcome' whatever may come his way.

Well, the time had finally come! Just some hours ago he'd been able to experience the thrilling ups and downs of being dragged into a whole dream life: one of adventures, Gods and monsters, good friends and family.

Collective dreaming wasn't as bad as people said!

But there was something people hadn't warned him about:

Post-dream hangover.

It was a curious thing, that, and might have been related to the many lewd-named drinks he'd had with dream Nick (who was immensely better than real Nick in every single way) around the campfire. Maybe. Probably.

And here's the thing, Paul would have tended to his hangover at home, like a normal person, if not for the fact that his poor coffee machine had died a couple of days ago, victim to a sudden change of voltage that had totally not been related to someone's late night welding work.

(Fuck you, Seamus)

He had to, instead, make his way to Hatter's and procure himself some espresso to try and nurse himself back to some semblance of health.

He'd barely taken a couple of sips of his drink when he noticed a familiar-but-not-quite face in the background, looking in his direction, then looking away...then looking back at him.

Now, had this been any other moment, he would have pretended not to see her and just continued drinking...but right now things were different, for he was still riding the high of dream adrenaline and, well, thrilled to finally have one of those dream connections people talked about.

So, he stepped closer.

"Hey, good mornin'" he called "I think I know you"

@majkemaniiia

The Unfortunate Experience of Being Known || Doc & Magica

[doc-hudson]

NAME: Paul Leonard Hudson Garth AGE: 55 GODLY PARENT: Hermes AFFILIATION: Visiting Alumni (1986- 1990 at Camp) SPECIES: Demigod ABILITIES: Superhuman speed

Paul lives a normal live.

He was born to two loving middle-class parents, was relatively popular at school, got a full-ride scholarship to a good University where he studied medicine, has his own little clinic...

Oh, and he also casually disappeared from 1986 to 1990.

If one where to ask, he'd say those years were spent 'finding himself' and backpacking around Europe, a relatively typical explanation; What he wouldn't outright say was that 'finding himself' meant learning about his semi-divine heritage and meeting all sorts of people while at Camp Swynlake.

Mommy had a lot of explaining to do.

The world of adventures, constant danger and high-risks, sadly, wasn't necessarily what he wanted -so after finishing his stay at Camp, he continued living a relatively normal life.

Ten years ago, his sense of normality faded and he had to offer his medical expertise to his extended family as they faced Kronos (the whole thing was...something), luckily, the whole thing was dealt with relatively quickly and he could soon return to the comfort of routine.

Paul is currently back at Camp to celebrate the incident's anniversary...but mostly to keep an eye on his younger half-brothers and half-sisters, who he very much loves.

The little kleptomaniacs need someone to stop them every once in a while, you see.