A/n .so. Second chapter ey. ye. Well. This is first of all in cecil's view. Nightvale view. Ya know. And by input of dear frond "be very wordy" I shall. Well. Go forth dears. And read. If you want ya know I dont mind its like 2 am I should write this tomorrow but you know what why not now. Also just remember that dean is always pouting. Oh and also this is just my headcannon for what cecil and carlos might look like so yeah dont mind me.Always
Morning in NightVale. (ha, ironic)
Upon the streaks of light that slithered their way through the air, small dust particles floating and dancing throughout the space as it was dispersed upon the light with the sudden movement of limbs. The bright morning sun shone through the window, highlighting the white sheets which a body still lay upon. Which two bodies lay upon. One was rather dark skinned, darkened even more by the intense heat that came in the day. With such luscious and perfectly imperfect hair, great spirals and curls of gorgeous locks, that where messily splayed across their face and pillows.
Another lay beside this dark-skinned man. One with such pretty and straight blond hair upon their head. And although they lived in the heat of the desert, his skin appeared quite a bright and radiant colour. And upon each arm was a swirling and colonizing of bright and brilliant purple tattoos, which seemed to almost glow and shimmer slightly. Each one moved contently over the man's arms and body, each one roaming freely and softly over the skin. They reached up his neck and the small purple eye up on his forehead was closed, as the man still lay quietly in dreams. For in the light of day these two men lay, both within each others grasp and both within a gorgeous end and beginning of each light.
And as the man named Carlos, with that perfect hair, moved so suddenly away from the others warmth, Cecil, the man with those wondrous tattoos, also moved slightly. Carlos swung his legs over the side of the bed frame. Their bed was white, as where the sheets and the paint used on the wood. They each loved the morning of such bright calmness throughout the rise of the sun. And as the man, Carlos, got up from his and Cecil's bed, he walked over to a tall standing wardrobe in the corner. The man with the gorgeous hair pulled on his checked t-shirt, it being slightly crumpled and creased-but not easily seen as for the pattern covering its flaws, and buttoning each button with delicate nature.
Cecil moved quite suddenly from the bed, and came up behind Carlos. Grabbing on to him and hugging the man so tight he feel his heart might burst. For such a slim man, Cecil did have some strength. Maybe it was to do with most NightVale citizens? He'd have to read into that later. But right now he did have to get dressed. He wasn't wearing any trousers, for starters. And Cecil had walked off to the bathroom. He saw the back of Cecil's head disappear behind the oak door of the bathroom, hearing the tap turn on and a low humming coming from within. A smile creased at his face and he pulled on a pair of battered jeans-worn at the knees and feet, yet still the most comfortable pair he owned. As for his most trusty lab-coat, yes, ah, such a nice lab-coat it was. So soft. And as Cecil had described it at one point, "neat". He pulled it on, fixing the collar and the sleeves so they fit most comfortably over his long-sleeved t-shirt, and then decided it was going to be warm again today, and rolled up each sleeve until his elbow, marking sure he looked nice and sciency. He could only guess, though.
As was expected, Cecil took a while in the bathroom. He always did. He was aware of it, although Carlos-ah, perfectly imperfect Carlos- never actually pointed it out. He sometimes didn't even go in the bathroom some mornings, or he would just get dressed first and wait on Cecil to finish, and then go in. Oh how he loved Carlos. From his perfect jaw-line, so strong and defined, to his gorgeous, dark skin. How imperfect it was, but oh how perfect he thought wonderful Carlos to be. How wonderful and perfect and how oh-
Cecil had to stop himself. His tattoos had begun to glow more than ever, even in the dimmed light of the bathroom, and his pale cheeks had begun to flush pink. In fact his whole face had. Cecil's usually quite placid and calm expression had been replaced by a subconscious smile reaching to his rosy cheeks. His face was so red oh dear. He turned on the tap again and literally stuck his face in the cold water gushing out from the faucet. After a moment he pulled his head back. His face and a few strands of hair had been drenched in the adventure to Niagara falls. Rubbing his eyes and drying his face with a towel, he again looked in the mirror. Feeling just a little bit refreshed after that.
As he walked out of the bathroom, Carlos noticed that Cecil's face was particularly red. Although it could've been passed off as washing his face, he still wondered. And considering that whenever Cecil did look up at Carlos, his face spread into that dorky smile again and Cecil came over and hugged onto him once again. Not as hard as before, but more just revelling in the fact that he could hug him. Cecil hugged him a lot, actually. And Carlos was pretty sure he had picked up how the tattoos would act around different stimuli.
Like, whenever Cecil would be talking on the air, his tattoos would just kind of float across his skin, not really shining or shimmering that much. And as for when he was especially bored, Carlos only guessed that the tattoos just looked like tattoos, as there was never a moment that Cecil had been bored around him.
And as for when he got upset, his tattoos would turn a shade darker and in some places change their shape and colour slightly. As for when Cecil was happy and/or excited, those marvellous tattoos of his would glow and shimmer, and would dance about his body almost joyously. Cecil himself was something to marvel at, and he made one too many notes about his boyfriend in his science books.
Carlos still stood there, in front of the window, trying in vain to tame his hair. He couldn't brush it, it would just go all frizzy and if he tried patting it down, well, then it just went all fluffy again with curls. Goodness, he really needed a hair cut. Maybe telly the barber would be a good person to do it? After all, in the heat, it did get hard to keep himself cool with this mop of hair on his head. Finally he gave up. Strapped on his watch and then got some of his science things from a cupboard on the wall. Although time doesn't actually work in NightVale. Clocks weren't real either, but it gave Carlos a small comfort of the outside world when he wore it, remembering something of the outside world that he held dear. He remembered getting given it as a present one year for a birthday, least to say parties in NightVale where rather strange, and not wished to be had again after the last one.
He still rented out a storage facility he was using as a lab beside Big Rico's Pizza. And he intended to go their early to get some tests and science things done. Many science things where to happen that day. Many.
And yet, as he turned to Cecil, he realised something.
He realised Cecil was still in his boxers, standing beside the window and looking out over NightVale. His stripped boxers peering out from underneath and over-sized t-shirt. Carlos believed it was his t-shirt. Although he didn't mind, he liked how Cecil smelled, because Cecil smelt calm, and of a faint and distant memory, or tea and coffee and sunsets and cinnamon. And Carlos did love that smell. Although Cecil loved that t-shirt. It was grey, totally not Cecil's colour, and it had an orange collar and was far too big for Cecil. In reality it was far too big for Carlos. It was so big that both of them could fit inside it together easily. And for some reason Cecil always wore it.
Carlos stood there daydreaming, and then he actually listened to what Cecil was saying. His voice was slightly deeper and croaky, and he was talking somewhat fast and angrily about something.
The first word that Carlos could register in the mutterings of his boyfriend was 'mountains'.
Dammit.
Cecil really despised mountains. Literally, he had brought it up once that there were lots and lots of mountains around the world, and Cecil had become agitated and insisted that mountains weren't real. In any circumstance. And Carlos had left it at that.
At last, Cecil finally put some trousers on. And put on his regular attire of a black button up waist coat, with a white long sleeved t-shirt and the sleeves rolled up. Today, Cecil was going for a sort of messy hairstyle. Well. That he thought looked messy. He didn't have any mirrors. Dear imperfect heavens he would rather get sent to the void than have mirrors in his home, or anywhere for that matter. And as he fixed his tie- wait a second, looking down upon himself he wondered,-did he wear ties? Had he ever worn one? Come to think of it, he never remembered buying one. But maybe it was the secret police then, giving him ties? Oh well. Most things are the secret police. They always have been.
Downstairs, the dark smell of coffee drifted from room to room. And although there weren't actually that many rooms, the house was always filled with the smell. Whether it be fragrant and lightly spread, or lay in the air like a thick sheet, it always did smell of coffee. And not to mention that this was a rather new house. Nice, unlike the condo Carlos had wanted to buy before. Condos are not to be trusted. He risked losing his perfectly imperfection to that damn black cube of enormous side and slick edges. Although he didn't. But thinking about that incident more as he poured some coffee into a cup, his hatred and despise of mountains also flourished again. But thinking about Carlos-ah, gorgeous and sweet Carlos- was enough to calm his mind. Taking a sip of the dark liquid, he saw a fleeting image in the corner of his eye, but paid none too much attention to it. And he turned away and walked towards his seat.
Carlos was upstairs in the bathroom, as Cecil made himself some coffee. I have not even put any dialogue in this bit. But you see, they did chat to one another. Both and either talking to one another and giggling happily. It was still such a bright and glorious day. The sky was, to a certain extent, a faint yellow colour, much as NightVale sky did look during the daytime. Carlos had reckoned it was something to do with chemical fluctuations or maybe NightVale was on the platform of a criss-crossing dimension or something science like. Carlos was about science. For he was and always will be, CARLOS THE SCIENTIST, GREAT CARLOS, PERFECTLY IMPERFE-ahem, where was I?
Oh and when Carlos had finished his business in the bathroom, he walked down the stairs to meet Cecil before heading to the lab to do science things. Carlos quite regularly did science things. He was a scientist. I thought you would have known that.
And Cecil went to the NightVale Community Radio Station, as he was Cecil Gershwin Palmer, voice of NightVale. And each of them carried on with their day. Each of them had separate encounters to tell over food being eaten, different memories and feelings and words and thoughts. But as the day waned on, each of them could not have predicted the telling of two new-comers in their little town. Two very odd strangers, indeed.
Cecil was in his little studio room, reading out from the pages he had in front of him into the mic. He had the habit of crinkling the corner of the pages as he read, the pages a sort of off-white and feeling rather scratchy against his skin as he subconsciously trailed his fingers over the small black lettering. Occasionally he also moved his hands about the air, waving them through the words he spoke in that deep tone, although not that deep mind you. He would speak for awhile, talking about the community calendar in NightVale, the Traffic, albeit it was always somewhat disturbing, and talking about most things that where written down for him to approach the subject on. And just as he concluded another segment-
"And now, I take you, to the Weather".
A song began to play, a random song, as each weather song was. And Cecil took off his headphones for the moment and stretched his arms above his head. Goodness, he really sat in that chair quite a lot. He made a small note in the back of his mind to remind himself to take a walk or something, but that part of his mind would not keep a note. That part of his mind would not keep anything. It was useless.
And then the radio show started back up again, until finally-
"And tonight listeners I-...ohhh?". Cecil's voice growled an octave lower and his hands rested under his chin, intrigued by the new discovery. His smile was small, but more of a smirk.
"Listeners, it seems we have some new arrivals, here in NightVale. Maybe more scientists, come to search and wonder about our mysterious little town? Or maybe some people from where dearest perfectly imperfect Carlos is from? Either way, NightVale, can I just say that we should greet them each with open arms. For there is one man with bright green eyes, and, pardon my words, an incredibly good looking face, and the other so very tall and so messy hair. Listeners, lets make them feel comfortable, them, and may I say their pretty nice car. Neat".
He could see the two men, of course. In that dainty car. A 1994 Chevy Impala he believed. And he could see very clearly the man with that strong jaw-line and the one with messy hair. He could see them, and as he watched them draw nearer and nearer, he knew already that they would most certainly be arriving here in NightVale soon. Now whether Cecil would get to meet them, he had yet to find out. But just as he was about the end the broadcast, he noticed that the two of them where not looking at the road-
"Listeners, our friends will be here soon.", he assured NightVale. "Oh dear, watch out".
Their car had jostled off the road and into the sandy wasteland of the desert. They managed to stop the car, at least, although running over a few animals in the process. I mean, they where dead anyway, but they might want to get their car cleaned a bit. No biggy, just a bit...disgusting.
He already knew what was going to happen to them. They weren't being harmed or anything, simply being brought to NightVale, the correct way. And Cecil was never even meant to see it. He wondered whether that had happened to Carlos? Although, he supposed, the first time it had happened, he had followed the rules. If you see anything, don't say anything, and drink to forget. But maybe, he wouldn't forget. He made that note again in the back of his mind, telling him to remember how people from outside arrived in NightVale. That useless piece of his brain again.
And so he ended the broadcast.
