A/N: Okay so another kind of short chapter that I wrote several days ago. But I'm still trying to flesh out characters and get a plot going. Again, I've only heard the first 2 episodes and an obscure one that I've forgotten the number of.
Disclaimer: I don't own WTNV, its characters, etc. etc. etc. I do own my own characters, plot, dialogue, etc. etc. etc. Unbeta'd.
Please enjoy. R&R. Do your thang.
The only thing abnormal about the newcomer to Night Vale was just how extraordinarily normal she was. She shopped at the same store as everyone else; she didn't own a car but she rode her bike everywhere; she recycled when she was supposed to; she ate three square meals a day along with two snacks and dessert; she even had a job. She never showed up to places unexpectedly, or naked, or unkempt. She always seemed very presentable, like she was planning on having her photo taken at any minute. And Cecil wished he possessed a camera so he could take her photo, but he had never really cared for the contraptions. When he was younger, his mother always carted around a heavy metal camera and took candid snapshots of him and his sister, and when they were older it was his sister who started snapping photos of him. He was usually displeased with the resulting photo and often blamed the angle of the camera or a fractured lens or poor lighting.
Now he thought none of those things really mattered because surely there was no way that he could produce a poor photo of Veta, even with a bad angle or no lighting or broken lenses. He was even somewhat convinced that she could even manage to take a good photo of him, she was that amazing.
What he didn't quite understand, though, was why she was living with Carlos. There were plenty of other people in Night Vale who would have been more than willing to take her in. Old Woman Josie was always looking for someone to board with her. But, no, she had decided to stay with Carlos. Perfect, stunning Carlos with the dark skin and thick, black hair who could surely woo Veta in under a minute if he so desired. Perhaps he already had and that's why she decided to live with him. Cecil sincerely hoped that wasn't the case. If it was, then there was no way that he would have any chance with the raven-haired beauty that had just appeared in their small desert town.
Cecil found the girl to be very interesting, even though she seemed to be very normal. He kept his thick, rough-bound journal with him in his cross-body bag along with a few dozen pens and his wallet. He kept the journal to take down notes for the radio show, finding that it was often better to get information from out in the field rather than through the Sheriff's Secret Police or through an eyewitness (though he would never admit that aloud). But he soon found himself shamelessly trailing behind the girl and taking down notes about her daily habit of walking to the store to purchase three gallons of chocolate milk-product approved by the Secret Police, a bag of genetically altered mangoes and some article of clothing. On Monday it was a silken scarf the color of the desert at late evening; on Tuesday it was a pair of thick, wool socks the same purple as Cecil's waistcoat; Wednesday she bought a pair of black leggings; Thursday she purchased a knit shrug in shades of pink; and on Friday she took home a long satin gown the color of emeralds and decorated with bits of broken glass from a bottle that had been smashed in Aisle 3. She didn't seem to go out on Saturday or Sunday, at least not that Cecil saw.
Carlos was busy with his science stuff in various parts of town but he never crossed paths with Veta. Cecil was secretly grateful for this; he didn't want to run into the handsome scientist that may or may not have stolen Veta's heart.
When Veta was done with her shopping, she would load everything into the basket on the front of her bicycle and pedal off in the direction of her home. Cecil never really followed her to her house, but sometimes he happened to take strolls down the same street and catch her standing out in the lawn without shoes, face turned up to the darkening evening sky. Sometimes her arms would be stretched up to the sky, her hands open and fingers splayed out like she was trying to flatten the sky or reaching to touch something. Sometimes, when he saw her like that, he'd stop in his walking and turn his head up to look at the sky as well to see if he could make out what she was looking at. He never did figure it out.
One night he couldn't sleep (not that anyone really slept in Night Vale anyways) so he decided to take a walk. He wandered from his apartment, around town and back to Carlos and Veta's. He stood with his hands shoved in his pockets and lazily looked towards the lawn. He was only slightly surprised to see Veta standing there in the grass, shorts and thin shirt blowing in the soft desert wind. The moon lit up her face and sent streaks of light through her hair and her eyes glowed green. Her hands were stretched up to the sky, fingers still stretched out as far as they could reach. She rose up to her tiptoes before levitating for a fraction of a second, the tips of her fingers and toes glowing white, the same color as the moon, before fading and settling back onto the lawn.
Her eyes stopped glowing and she pulled her arms around her, rubbing her hands up and down her triceps, shuddering against the cool breeze, and headed inside. Cecil waited until she was inside before he wandered over to the spot where she had been standing. He planted his feet where hers were and looked up towards the sky. The moon shone bright over him, giving a silvery light to everything in its path. He pulled his hands free of his pockets and reached them up to the sky. He spread out his fingers in the same manner as Veta, tracing the same pattern along the night sky with his fingertips. The rounded edges of his nails lined up with several stars and the moon made his hands gleam eerily pale. But nothing happened. There was no levitation or glowing eyeballs or moonbeams shooting from his fingers and toes. He pulled his hands down and looked at them curiously. They were large and calloused along the ridge of his palm but nothing extraordinary. He rubbed them together, feeling the rough skin against the smoother bit of palm.
He cast another glance up towards the moon and then over towards the bottom floor apartment that Veta was currently residing in. He felt around for his journal then remembered he had left it on his bedside table. He made a mental note to write down what he had seen that night, but to also note not to mention it on the radio station. At least not until he had seen a little bit more about it and maybe got an explanation. It was one of the few things he wouldn't report about immediately. He wanted to get more information about the incident before he did anything like broadcast it live to the entire community. Veta already got enough attention from being a new resident, she didn't need any more from the levitation. Besides, maybe that was normal for her. She didn't seem too spooked by it when it happened.
Cecil shoved his hands back into his pockets and strode off the lawn and down the street, back towards his own home. Tomorrow was going to be a long day at the radio station if he didn't get some sleep.