(no subject)

[holdingacat]

Cecil cautiously opens the door, the wary set of his shoulders relaxing when nothing shrieks on the other side. He was pretty sure his apartment was empty but... well.

It never hurts to make sure.

Especially when you're bringing a friend.

Assured that if anything has gone astray since he left it is only because of the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In His Home, he pushes the door fully open and holds it open, smiling.

"Welcome to Night Vale - and please ignore the mess, I've tried keeping the books on their shelves but... you know how it is." He offers with a shrug, having long-ago given up on keeping the (Council-approved) books off the floor. They are scattered across the living room (it is an artistic pattern, very meaningful if you happen to be an old woman. Especially if you have no face). Otherwise, it is a fairly standard apartment - a living room, with a fuzzy couch, and an old television, and an even older cabinet radio; a kitchen that is reasonably tidy and with all reflective services carefully hidden away; a bloodstone circle kept conscientiously clean; and a window out onto Old Town Night Vale, kept conspicuously clear of obstruction.

Comments

[thewidewideworld]

"Would you like me to come with you? Or would it be easier if I went back to the bar?" Sinric offers, not wanting to be in the way.

[holdingacat]

"No, no, you should come, it might not be safe in the streets and the station is so close." Cecil insists after knocking back the last of his coffee in a gesture entirely too practiced to be a rare occurrence.

He then hisses 'check, please' into the coffee mug.

In a move he clearly considers entirely normal, he lifts up the sugar container to find the check, scans it quickly, then rustles up a few dollar bills in payment to place on top to pay, replacing the sugar.

Something gulps from under the sugar. Cecil stands as the woman with the hatchets storms out of the diner, trailed by her own dead-eyed child.

"I really hope it isn't Street Cleaners again, or a Sand Storm, ugh."

[thewidewideworld]

"As you say." Sinric finished his pie, leaving the coffee. "I've seen sand-storms before, I understand how dangerous they can be." He watches the dead-eyed child, following Cecil out.

[holdingacat]

Cecil reaches back as they leave the diner, catching Sinric's hand before sprinting off towards the thankfully nearby station. Above the station, far above, the red light atop the broadcast tower blinks like a baleful eye. Above the college, something glows, growing larger by the minute.

At the station door, a young woman in a bright red t-shirt braces the door open, frantically waving when the pair come into sight.

"CECIL! I mean! Mister Palmer, sir, Station Management is growling and there's smoke and..." She yelps in a state of near-panic. This is, of course, normal for interns. It's part of the learning process!