One Year Later, pt 1 - Welcome to Night Vale

Cecil can barely contain himself, bouncing into his chair, cradling his mug of coffee (made for him by Intern Chad - oh, it was good to have interns again). Just one show to get through, and then And then! Sure, he knows this isn't a date, ha, of course he knows that.

...

He somewhat knows that.

Cecil does know, however, that Carlos will not only be there, he'll most likely be in his snazziest dress lab coat, looking absolutely dreamy. Come what may, this is going to be fantastic!

There's a tap on the window, and intern Chad is there, waving and pointing frantically at the BROADCASTING sign, now lit. Whoops, got carried away in that daydream.

"A friendly desert community - where the sun is still hot, the moon? Still beautiful, and mysterious lights still pass over ahead while we all pretend to sleep."

He shifts, settling more comfortably into his chair and pulling the mic closer.

"Welcome to Night Vale."

One Year Later, pt 2 - I am holding the trophy

The show opens fairly standardly, with a story about the attack on the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Fun Arcade Complex by the city deep below the earth in the pin retrieval area behind Lane Five. Nothing too unusual - there's information about the ruined birthday party, and the armed militia, and the impending doom and destruction...

Hang on a bit.

And a bit about Carlos. Carlos, who has gone to investigate the city deep below the earth in the pin retrieval area of Lane Five, saying someone ought to get to the bottom of this, someone had to. Oh, his poor, brave Carlos!

...

Evidently that last bit actually made it onto the air. Oops. He rambles on about how utterly awful the Apache Tracker is while he considers what to do about that. It is, after all, true, if a bit premature and painfully optimistic to call Carlos his at this juncture...

He shrugs, ignores the bewildered flailing of intern Chad, and plows on with describing his love favorite scientist. Might as well, at this point, and it was definitely newsworthy.

"... perfect of stature and bearing, perfect of tone and taut, and time having fixed what the barbarous barber Telly so treacherously snipped away, perfect of hair." He rambles, propping his chin on his hands to better dreamily describe the most gorgeous man in the world. There's a slow, steady thumping coming from the control booth, but he can't be bothered with the hysterics of interns at this point.

Eventually he finds himself reminding his listeners that there is to be a small ceremony tonight, commemorating the one-year survival of their scientists (of his scientist). It's a big deal, after all - outsiders don't tend to do well here, for the obvious reasons.

"However, it looks like he will be…
delayed."

Cecil takes a deep breath, settling himself. Calm. He will be calm.

"But I am not worried. I am not upset. I know that Carlos will be here for the ceremony. I have the trophy, here, in my hand.

I am holding the trophy and I am not upset. Carlos will be here. He will. I am holding the trophy!"

...

That's... calm. Right? Err.

One Year Later, pt 4 - Triumph

"Oh Happy Day!" Cecil declares, abandoning the story about the the lack of safety issues currently surrounding the children of Night Vale as the door to his studio quietly snicks shut behind him. "I have just received word that Carlos returned from the entrance to the city..."

In ringing tones full of honest admiration and less-than-subtle infatuation he explains the extent of Carlos' discovery, and the triumphant method of how he reveals the truth to one and all - there may be a city underneath the pin retrieval area of Lane Five, but it is very tiny! Only ten feet down, and so small its tallest spires only reach to Carlos' knees as he stands amidst that place they feared for so long! How brave, how bold, how brilliant his scientist! How insignificant their problems!

"Well… if Carlos says it, I will happily repeat it. We have nothing to fear, and never did!" He intones firmly, as if by sheer will alone he could obliterate the doubts and fears in the minds of all his listeners.

One Year Later, pt 3 - Sidebar: Night Vale NRA Slogans

Select an option:

Guns don't kill people, blood loss and organ damage does
Guns don't kill people, people kill guns
A list of things that kill people: 1) Conceivably, anything; 2) Not guns!
Guns don't kill people, we are all immortal souls living temporarily in shelters of earth and meat
If you say guns kill people one more time, I will shoot you with a gun, and you will, coincidentally, die

One Year Later, pt 5 - Despair

The door to his booth opens in the middle of his story about angels (which aren't real), and he turns, frowning, ready to scold his intern for not obeying proper protocol. But Intern Chad shoves a piece of paper into his hands, a piece of paper with an update scrawled on it in a bright red ink that may or may not be blood.

He scans it, and...

He's sure his gasp, like a man sucker-punched to the gut, is audible, but... he does not care.

"Oh... A truly fearful thing has happened, listeners.

Carlos, standing triumphantly in the toy-scaled city, was attacked by tiny people using projectiles and explosives. He fell back to the side of the small hole in the pin retrieval area of lane five, blood...

oh
...welled through his shirt, and
no
here I am
no.
stuck in my booth
no!
useless
no!
only able to narrate and not to help." Cecil tries to rally, tries to erase the pain and frustration in his voice. Surely this... this will get better. It will. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his shaking hands.

"He staggered, fell to his knees
Carlos
so much blood!
not Carlos
He collapsed completely.
not my Carlos
Curse this town, that saw Carlos die. Curse me. Curse it all.
no
Let us take a moment to–
I
Let us…take this moment–
I can't
Ladies and gentlemen, let us mourn the pass–
I...
can’t.

I can’t!

I am still holding this trophy! I–"


He stares blindly at the page in front of him, the words that are slowly melding into one another as the ink bleeds together into a mass of nonsense. He takes a deep breath, and forces his voice into something more steady, something completely alien to himself in this moment.

"We go now to this puh– …pre-recorded public service announcement."

Click