Hudson Hendricks - Blog Posts

The man froze, "glancing" at his chest. He coughed, already flickering in and out. The lights above flickering once more, dimming when the man winced.

His hand went to his chest, blood already soaking his fingers with a new layer of red. He shook his head, trying to regain focus as he stood up, swaying a little. "Damn...why is it always the chest or the lights..."

He snapped his head at Ray and lunged once more, struggling as he tugged the scissors back.

One last final buzz of the lights and-

Crack.

The light bulb overheated, causing it to shatter.

The man pressed the palms of his hands to his empty eye sockets, hissing in pain as he fell to his knees. "No, no, no, NO! Not again...ow.....I can't fucking lose. I WON'T FUCKING LOSE! YOU CAN'T BURY ME AGAIN! YOU CAN'T!"

His hands drop to his sides, blood pouring out even more out of his empty sockets, the man wiped his face furiously.

Confused, hurt, angry and desperate.

The studio was quiet. There weren’t many people left, most having returned home by now. There was a background noise of groaning pipes and creaking floorboards as Ray walked down the hallway.

He had left his isolate office space in favor of a cup of coffee and some more paper, which somehow the storyboarding department lacked.

He was nearing the elevator, and mulled over whether the risk of the thing was worth not having to use the stairs.

~ @w-graves-nook

The hallway lights buzzed and flickered above. The air smelled stale, but oddly had a copperish tint to it. The floorboards groaned, always causing the worries of breaking.

The friendly posters and cut outs just seemed dull, almost sickening. The cheerfulness just not being what it used to be.

The air suddenly grew cold, like a cool draft coming in, even with no windows being in the premises. The feeling of dread was being tight in the air as it was almost overwhelming.

A loud clang could be heard as an abandoned type writer had been thrown off of a supply crate, causing metal to scatter into parts.

The feeling of being watched was sudden.

And the air was tense.

The smell of copper was strong now, almost unbearable as the lights finally stopped flickering and were back to normal. Sort of.

They were brighter than before.

It was almost baffling when the man reappeared, his form more detailed. Detailed being the worst part.

The man's sides were nothing but a spine and rib cage, peering out of the man's tattered shirt. His slacks were loose on his thin hips, the belt too feeble to do its job. But that wasn't the worst part.

The worst part was the bleeding, coming from the centre of the man's chest, pouring down and splattering on his rib cage and shirt. The wound looked deep and way too forced to be "just an accident".

The man's face wasn't visible though, his head still keeping to the shadows.

"I can your heart beat y'know."

"That pretty little thing is doing such a wonderful job."

"But let's be honest. It can only do so much to keep you alive."

The studio was quiet. There weren’t many people left, most having returned home by now. There was a background noise of groaning pipes and creaking floorboards as Ray walked down the hallway.

He had left his isolate office space in favor of a cup of coffee and some more paper, which somehow the storyboarding department lacked.

He was nearing the elevator, and mulled over whether the risk of the thing was worth not having to use the stairs.

~ @w-graves-nook

The hallway lights buzzed and flickered above. The air smelled stale, but oddly had a copperish tint to it. The floorboards groaned, always causing the worries of breaking.

The friendly posters and cut outs just seemed dull, almost sickening. The cheerfulness just not being what it used to be.

The air suddenly grew cold, like a cool draft coming in, even with no windows being in the premises. The feeling of dread was being tight in the air as it was almost overwhelming.

A loud clang could be heard as an abandoned type writer had been thrown off of a supply crate, causing metal to scatter into parts.

The feeling of being watched was sudden.

And the air was tense.

[Hudson gave him a skeptical glance, his lips tugged in a frown. He let out a soft sigh, arm pulling Ray closer to his chest. He placed Ray's head on his chest and stroked his hair.]

"No offence, but I'm way too brainwashed and drunk to believe you."

[Hudson chuckled, dark eyes glancing at Ray, before he let himself relax. Sort of. His other hand twitched near his pocket knife and his eyes glanced at the windows and the door of his bedroom every now and then.]

[It's calm and still in the story boarding Department. Well, minus the low groaning of the pipes and creaks of the old floorboards. The peace was cut short when the sound of a metal cart slamming into the wall shattered the moment. ]

"Son of a....." A voice slurred in a low grumble.

[Hudson carelessly tugged the cart back to him, almost clinging onto it for balance as his movements proved sluggish and wobbly. He glanced at Ray, his face flushed. He blew a strand of hair out of his face before picking up a yellow folder and flinging it right at Ray.]

"Take it."

“Hudson—uhm—” Ray stammered, briefly floundering with the folder before standing up, tossing it onto his desk and approaching Hudson.

“Jeez, what’s up with you—Are you drunk? What’s gotten into you?! You definitely can’t be drinkin’ on the job, imagine if a higher up found you like this…It’s not even inconspicuous…” Ray hissed worriedly, placing his hands on Hudson’s shoulders. “I know it’s not uncommon but that doesn’t—…sigh…What made you go and get pissed anyways?”

YESSSSSSS THESE TWO ARE MY FAVOURITE SHIP THAT INVOLVES HUDSON (sorry Bill) !!! Hudson's hair looks good, I dunno what you're talking about :^

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU I LOVE OUR BOYS AHHHHHHH-

Alcohol Use!

Had to draw Hudson and Ray because for once in a long time I’m actually invested in my own oc. Do they perchance suffer from same-face syndrome? Perchance. Did I perchance mess up Hudson’s hair? Perchance².

Loosely inspired by the rp goin’ on right now. I say loosely because this hasn’t happened and Ray is completely sober in it.

Gift(?) for @unnoticedunawarestillhere ;3

[Hudson took the pills from Ray's hand, putting a pause on his knife twirling. His eyes dull and blank as he placed the knife on the bed, swapping it out for the cup of water.]

"Yeah, they did. Cadets too."

"1932, I earned that badge fair and square at age 12."

[He swallowed the pills dry, before taking a sip of cold water. He would then place the glass on the nightstand, making a slight frown at the taste of bitterness in his mouth.]

"Kind of funny how productive I really was at Scouts. Despite the complications."

[It's calm and still in the story boarding Department. Well, minus the low groaning of the pipes and creaks of the old floorboards. The peace was cut short when the sound of a metal cart slamming into the wall shattered the moment. ]

"Son of a....." A voice slurred in a low grumble.

[Hudson carelessly tugged the cart back to him, almost clinging onto it for balance as his movements proved sluggish and wobbly. He glanced at Ray, his face flushed. He blew a strand of hair out of his face before picking up a yellow folder and flinging it right at Ray.]

"Take it."

“Hudson—uhm—” Ray stammered, briefly floundering with the folder before standing up, tossing it onto his desk and approaching Hudson.

“Jeez, what’s up with you—Are you drunk? What’s gotten into you?! You definitely can’t be drinkin’ on the job, imagine if a higher up found you like this…It’s not even inconspicuous…” Ray hissed worriedly, placing his hands on Hudson’s shoulders. “I know it’s not uncommon but that doesn’t—…sigh…What made you go and get pissed anyways?”

[Hudson took off his shoes and sat at the edge of the bed. His frame slumped as he stared at the window, moonlight slipping through the cracks of the blinds. His dark eyes didn't look at Ray, only focusing on the blinds.]

"No," he muttered, not lifting his head.

[Instead, he slipped out his pocket knife and fidgeted with it. The blade being twirled in a stiff manner, sliver reflective off the stray rays of the light.]

"Meds are in the bathroom cabinet...."

[It's calm and still in the story boarding Department. Well, minus the low groaning of the pipes and creaks of the old floorboards. The peace was cut short when the sound of a metal cart slamming into the wall shattered the moment. ]

"Son of a....." A voice slurred in a low grumble.

[Hudson carelessly tugged the cart back to him, almost clinging onto it for balance as his movements proved sluggish and wobbly. He glanced at Ray, his face flushed. He blew a strand of hair out of his face before picking up a yellow folder and flinging it right at Ray.]

"Take it."

“Hudson—uhm—” Ray stammered, briefly floundering with the folder before standing up, tossing it onto his desk and approaching Hudson.

“Jeez, what’s up with you—Are you drunk? What’s gotten into you?! You definitely can’t be drinkin’ on the job, imagine if a higher up found you like this…It’s not even inconspicuous…” Ray hissed worriedly, placing his hands on Hudson’s shoulders. “I know it’s not uncommon but that doesn’t—…sigh…What made you go and get pissed anyways?”

[The apartment was rather tidied, which seemed surprising. A few pictures were hung up on the hallway, as well as a bulletin board. Mostly just notes, pictures and a couple of bills. The only thing out of place was a broken picture frame on the living room floor.]

[Hudson threw his briefcase at the door, still nestled in Ray's arms. He blinked once more, blanking. His eyes scanned the apartment, before burying his face once more.]

"Past the living room and down the hall. It's the door on the right," he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut.

[It's calm and still in the story boarding Department. Well, minus the low groaning of the pipes and creaks of the old floorboards. The peace was cut short when the sound of a metal cart slamming into the wall shattered the moment. ]

"Son of a....." A voice slurred in a low grumble.

[Hudson carelessly tugged the cart back to him, almost clinging onto it for balance as his movements proved sluggish and wobbly. He glanced at Ray, his face flushed. He blew a strand of hair out of his face before picking up a yellow folder and flinging it right at Ray.]

"Take it."

“Hudson—uhm—” Ray stammered, briefly floundering with the folder before standing up, tossing it onto his desk and approaching Hudson.

“Jeez, what’s up with you—Are you drunk? What’s gotten into you?! You definitely can’t be drinkin’ on the job, imagine if a higher up found you like this…It’s not even inconspicuous…” Ray hissed worriedly, placing his hands on Hudson’s shoulders. “I know it’s not uncommon but that doesn’t—…sigh…What made you go and get pissed anyways?”

HELL YEAHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS!! THE EFFECTS ARE SO GOOD! THANK YOU, CAT!!!

Very Normal Writer Guy, nothing to see here...

TW: Gore

The mentally unstable ghost boy belongs to the wonderful @unnoticedunawarestillhere

@thelocalmoth *Just causally places this here*

So... For no reason at all, I was wondering what would be your advice towards anyone who wanted to write something about Hudson? Like what's his general personality, particularly when he first gets hired to the studio and when he's not full of ink poisoning, yet- >w>

What you have to understand about Hudson during this time:

Nationality: Canadian <- we know this. However, did you know that he was born in Toronto and moved to Quebec City? Hudson has French roots as well (due to his Mother).

When moving to New York, he has an overwhelming sense of being an outsider. He is prone to homesickness (homesick), but tries to always push it aside (self-assured). This whole ordeal of moving leaves him very skittish and paranoid.

Hudson's three types of mindset:

"I can also do/be better! I always need to improve. This work needs to be better."

"People are out to get me. Keep your guard up."

"I have to prove my worth and prove people wrong."

Age when hired: 17

Over all personality:

Polite and order taker (meaning he'll take tasks right away) <- these traits being perfected when he was a cadet (a few months before he was hired.) He is very apologetic and is prone to believing that he's in the wrong.

Creative, witty and has a sense of humour. Hudson is eager to share ideas with people and work as a team to get creative projects done. He uses his wits to encourage people, but also to protect himself. His humour is usually dry and Wistfully telling stories to people.

Calculating, paranoid and overwhelmed. He is calculating due to being paranoid and can get overwhelmed by insecurity and work. Self assurance is always forced.

The things that stay consistent is:

Hudson's never ending-need to please and impress his father (David Hendriks) and his desperation to be acknowledged by his father.

Insecurity about his height and overall appearance. He knows he doesn't look his age and is worried he might not look mature enough to be a writer, and not a simple delivery boy.

get drawn mf :]

here we have, a quick sketch of scruffy Hudson✨

he's so cute AGHHH I love him >_<

THANK YOU THIS LOOKS AWESOME!!! HUDSON DON'T SMOKE-

He looks like a divorced Dad :D

He's just as confused as you, Todd.

First panel: Jesus, why would anyone want to date such an ugly and short guy like you?

Second panel (Hudson answers): Ask my five exes and very dead fiancee that.

I’ll dogpile on, how would Hudson feel if Ray liked him lol?

He would be very VERY flustered and might even go out of his way to hold the door for him, make him coffee, stealing ink bottles and paper for him (without Ray noticing), etc.

Hudson would still act distant and annoyed, but that's due to him being scared and still in a tight hold with the ink.

He would also probably set flowers on Ray's desk when no one's there to see him do the crime.

I personally think this would be a very cute ship XD or dynamic

well idk abt that anon, but

how would Hudson feel if Stella liked him..?

based on a cursed hypothetical ship that my friend suggested because of the drawings I made of Hudson and Stella trying to kill each other... T-T

Hudson would get flustered and probably be even more rude and cold towards her.

HOWEVER, he (as a ghost) would do little gestures. Such as opening and operating the lights and elevator for Stella and giving her supplies that he couldn't care less about (not needing to eat or whatvever). He'd also probably stab and rip people who got in her way of something important.

I doubt he would show his face though, probably embarrassed and not wanting Stella to see the damage :(

"It hurts that you ruined me."

"And what are those little black dot thingies?"

@thelocalmoth : I hope to make you more father and son fan art because you are fucking awesome

get arted you adorable motherfucker

you are my favorite batim character

I am going feral

HUDSON HENDRICKS I LOVE YOU MAMDNSJKSNSBSBS

In all seriousness, THANK YOU!!! Hudson is my first oc that has had this much attention and has been improved throughout the months and used a lot!!

An older lady walks right into the break room, clutching a photo album as she has an excited smile on her face. She searches the room, scanning each face. She looks a little disappointed, but suddenly brightens.

@asknorman-polk @art-by-stella @ask-thelyricist

"You must all work with my son! How delightful, I was hoping to share these with him, but you all must see too!" She said, her Quebec accent is clear.

"Aren't these such a treasure?"

@ask-sammy-lawrences-assistant "Oh my, mon cher! Charlie? What a wonderful surprise!! I was just talking to your mère on the phone!! Oh you must see these too! You remember meeting him during these times!!"

She opens the photo album with enthusiasm:

"Oh he always hated wearing that sailor's blouse! Complaining all the time! Instead, he insisted on always wearing his scout uniform!!"

"You may all call me Cathy, by the way."

"Can we build a fire now?"

Am more tempted to draw younger Hudson.

JUST LOOK AT HOW CUTE HE IS C'MON LOOKKKKK AT HIS FACEEE ARGHHHh

Hudson placed his cup down, quiet more than ever, before muttering softly, "Maybe it is, in a way,"

He shook his head, rubbing his eyes, "Or....you know, whatever. What do I know? Hah....."

“Heya! Sorry to bother, just wanted to stop by to uh… Check in. Hope you’re doin’ okay.” He set down a cup of coffee on Hudson’s desk, leaning back with his own cup.

~ @w-graves-nook

Hudson lifted his head from his desk, his eyes red and tired. He glanced at Ray, his lips pressed in a thin line.

He took the coffee and sipped it.

"Thanks...." he mumbled.

“Heya! Sorry to bother, just wanted to stop by to uh… Check in. Hope you’re doin’ okay.” He set down a cup of coffee on Hudson’s desk, leaning back with his own cup.

~ @w-graves-nook

Hudson lifted his head from his desk, his eyes red and tired. He glanced at Ray, his lips pressed in a thin line.

He took the coffee and sipped it.

"Thanks...." he mumbled.

"Maybe I should wake up."

"Maybe I should call my Mom."

"Maybe I should hug Charlie today."

"Maybe I should try cooking."

...

"I won't though."

"I won't because I can't and I can't because I won't."

"JUST WAKE ME UP."

Having to use your Chromebook's camera is something that pisses me off so much.

No, I will not use my phone.

It's a bootlegged flipphone and it is equally SHITTY.

Anyways, I'm really sorry I haven't been posting much art. It's been a rough couple of days in the real world and I also have my play production tomorrow. I'll take drawing requests and asks for my au or just for Hudson!!

So sorry to my moots as well! If you ever want to rp or do random improv, I'm here when I can be! Hopefully this slump will go away...

"I think I lost my mind."

"I put my cereal in my coffee grinder."

"And put milk in my coffee beans."

"I only realised my mistake after washing the dishes after breakfast."

"Guess I have to go shopping now...."

Wait you're allergic to eggs? THAT'S SO SAD! D:

What else are you allergic too so I know who to tackle if they get too close-

*holding a notebook and pen* 👁️👁️

"Not much, just eggs, Penicillin, dogs, and specifically peanut butter for some reason

The price you paid.

The white static made it hard to see what was what.

 He could see his own  breath like a foggy mist while his feet and arms begged for him to stop crawling through the thick snow.  His nose caught in the smell of burnt metal and vulgar smoke. 

Warm blood poured down as his left eye squinted and winced. 

He touched his forehead only to see a warm sticky red trickle down his fingers. His head lolled to the side, before he regained his focus and continued to pull himself through the snow. 

 Hudson was already feeling lightheaded, but also felt  like the world was slightly slanted.

 Either way, it just didn’t feel right.

 “How long has it been since I left the site of the crash? Have I just been going in circles? Those trees look familiar,”  Thoughts creeped through his  mind as he was too weak to push them away. They ate his determination and hope like bugs, while only emptiness stayed.

 Everything hurts. My  mind feels like someone swung a hammer at my head, He thought. 

However, he thought about Felix, his co-pilot. Poor Felix waited at the site of the plane crash, his torso stuck under heavy metal and burnt steel. 

What makes it even worse, the whole plane ride, all Felix talked about was how excited he was for his and his fiancé's wedding. How they were going to have it at a large beautiful church. Inside the church would be decorated with white flower petals. How they ordered custom golden rings for each other made specifically in Belgium. How beautiful his fiancé would look in her wedding gown. 

Hudson’s stomach lurched at the thought of how Felix’s face twisted in pain when he tried to free his legs from under the wreckage. At how Felix had such calmness in his grey  eyes when he looked up at him. He trusts me. He respects me. 

The wind now sounded like a woman’s high pitch scream. Too much. It’s all just too much. His arms gave out and half of his  face became buried in snow. 

 He could see crimson seeping into the pure white. 

He tried to get up, but his arms gave out.

 He could barely feel the snow cushioning his face. He wanted to call out for help, but he stayed silent. He hardly knew  where he’d crashed. 

Calling out into unknown territory could lead to fatality.

 He wasn’t sure if any enemy officers were around and he didn't want to learn that the hard way. 

His  pale blue winter uniform is soaked. He should’ve worn his pilot suit all together, but due to the rush he was in he had little time to put it on.

 With all the strength Hudson mustered, he army crawled through the snow and pushed ahead. 

It was still bright outside, but he was worried that soon the sky would  be casted into a deep darkness.

 He noticed that the gash on his head was still bleeding heavily and  the tips of his fingers were making his body scream in pain. Shards of glass from a broken windshield embedded into skin. 

 Squinting his brown eyes, he could see that they were an ugly white at the tips of his fingers. 

Frostbite. 

He shivered as he could hear his teeth clattering against each other. 

He wearily looked up where he was faced with a black raven sitting on an overhanging branch. Its talons hooked the branch and its jet black feathers looked glossy in its white surroundings. It tilted its head at Hudson and squawked.

 Hudson heard a twig snap behind him, but he was too frozen to roll over and see. 

The raven squawked again and flapped its wings around frantically before it took off at the drop of a hat.

 It flew away and Hudson watched it in burning envy.

 Even the bird has places to be, He thought with bitterness. He was alone with his thoughts. 

His cold wretched thoughts. 

He glared ahead, before he rested his head on his arm, his legs feeling consumed by the cold. 

For all his life, he had just been debating, comparing and surviving. 

 Reality hit him hard and pulled him under. 

He would never have a chance to say those important words to Bill. 

His family was scattered from the war.

Some of his  friends were still yowling and fighting in the trenches, others fighting in the skies being shot at like birds, and more were dying in hospital beds, wounded beyond repair.

While only a rare few were stuck in New York, cheering him on.

Yet here he was: failing. 

All the letters he had gotten from Jack. All the sweet words from a kind man who had been never, but good to him, would mean nothing soon. The man who he looked up to…the man he had hoped to return the kindness…he would never see again. 

His heart lurched at that. 

And what about Charlie and Cassidy?

Charlie had seen him off when he was on leave. Her hug was powerful even when she cried. He remembered how she promised to write, promised to cheer him on and tell his story.

Cassidy on the other hand now had two kids and was married to Robert. Happy and blessed. 

He was so proud of her and happy.

He was an uncle.

Was.

But his thoughts turned to a different direction. 

He wouldn’t even get discharged honorably, gaining peaceful retirement. Or even recognition for his hard work. 

His body might be lost.

As well as his name in the archives. 

People would forget him.

The cold had reached to his torso now, gripping tightly around his organs while his rib cage was too feeble to protect.  

The bruises and cuts were starting to get to him as the pain he had repressed was now pulsing through him. He could feel the shards of glass poking at tissue and muscle, some even drilling deeper. 

His eyes watered, blurring his vision. His chest felt heavy and his lungs clinging onto his unstable breathing.

 Hudsons head rolled off his arm and was now laid dipped in the snow. 

He glared up at the grey sky with a blurred vision. 

Blood pooled the ground below him while the cold was now to his shoulders, biting through his uniform as it began to stab through his skin. Before numbing it. 

The world slowly grew dark in Hudson's half-lidded eyes. The pilot's breathing grew shallow and slow.

He coughed, tasting blood and bitter soot. 

“I’m sorry,” he rasped, water streamed down his bloodied and soot tainted face. 

“I tried. I really did.” 

“But I can’t get up.” 

Blood, soot, cold, glass, smoke and screams.

Oh such wonderful things.

Hudson raised his shaking hand as he somehow ended up on the floor. His knees weak and his brown eyes looking traumatised.

"I'm here," he rasped, his voice cracking a little. "Just give me a minute."

With that said, he fell back and laid on the ground, staring up at the ceiling. His whole body feeling ill and shaken, not even worried about Stella and the prank anymore.

@ask-thelyricist

*you and Sammy were in Sammy's office arguing or some shit idfk*

Stella walked into the room and flicked off the light, drawing y'all's attention. she lingered in the doorway, gripping a knife tightly and partially covered in a substance that looked suspiciously like blood...

"Sammy..." she muttered. she acknowledged Hudson with a nod in his direction before throwing her head back and cackling like a maniac. :]

- @art-by-stella

Hudson stared at in suspicion, already turning away from Sammy, whom he was already so done with.

He raised a brow, his gaze unwavering as he folded his arms against his chest. The dark rings under his eyes and his pale skin proved he wasn't in good health. Though he stubbornly refused to admit it.

"Can I help you or are you just going to giggle like a creepy doll all day?" He asked, his tone unconcerned and tired.

(Stella wtf??)

Hudson Andrew Hendrick's age scale!

17-18 year old Hudson: his goal was to grow out his cadet haircut (which he was successful at!) and lived by the employee dress code. He also tried smiling with his teeth!

19 year old Hudson: His hair grew slightly darker at the tips and he tried branching out to colours! As well as trying short side burns. Overall, not much. He also gave up smiling with teeth (thought his smile was ugly).

20 year old Hudson: his face is a little longer, his hair got a little more in control. He accidentally consumed ink at this time. This impacted his mind and caused him to be more paranoid and insecure. He no longer wears a vest due to being indecisive or in a rush. He also grew a little.

21 year old Hudson: hair grew darker and dishevelled as well as tie and collar (not caring to button it up all the way). He is way more aggressive which leads to all sorts of scuffles and is way more visibly strained. He doesn't usually have facial hair, but is more careless with his appearance. Shaving not being that much of a pressing issue as it once was.

What hardly changes (some may not show due to no colour)

The scar on his right brow.

His eyes are brown.

Freckles.

Pale ivory coloured skin.

Slim and short build. (He actually has strength in his arms tho!)

Tie, belt, and slightly pointed nose.