• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Fandom Welcome to Night Vale

BarkWolfBacon

BarkWolfBacon

Night Vale Secret Police Volunteer
\Welcome to Night Vale

Where the sun is hot, the moon is beautiful, and the stars pass overhead as we all pretend to sleep...

Arboretum052512FFFF-001.JPG



A small desert town somewhere in the southwestern United States, beset upon by all manner of strangeness. The sheriff has secret police, hooded figures are seen about, nightmares are frequent, and nothing is at is seems.


Oh, and don't go to the dog park...

th



...see, I told you. There aren't even any dogs at the dog park.

This is a story about you. You don't know why its a story about you, but it is. You secretly always wanted a story about you...maybe that is why you left wherever you were. Whether you were leaving behind the beautiful naked skin of your lover, your amazingly mind numbing job that paid you too much, or your amazingly mind numbing job that didn't pay you enough; You have found yourself in Night Vale.





You simply got in your car, a nearby plane, or other form of modern travel and rode through the bleary world we call now until you arrived in Night Vale. Why did you stop in Night Vale? Was it the lack of trees? The presence of poisonous insects? Maybe you found the radio station that was nothing but a woman reading random numbers over bell tones...whatever it was, your journey stopped here.


Well, really it has just begun.

You will soon discover that not all is as it seems, that strange horrors may lurk just outside the city, and that maybe...just maybe...


You are in danger.





  • Night Vale is a place of much strangeness. You however, are human. Probably painfully so. Humans are like that...pitiful, empty, staring at the sky as the earth tries its hardest to spin us off its surface.


    Well that was rather dark wasn't it?





    Be someone interesting, even though you are one copy of a million other humans on the planet, be an interesting copy.


MAPS


nv10.jpg



RULES

  1. 1 line sentences can drive me insane, please don't do it. You can actually do more than just say something in a post.
  2. Speling does wonderrs and so does punctuatin
  3. Please don't challenge the story.
  4. Mary Sues, Gary Oaks, and Gary Stues will not be accepted.
  5. Any race or gender character is accepted within this roleplay.
  6. Sometimes you'll need to wait before you can continue, this is natural, but if someone takes too long to post just continue on.
  7. To verify you read the rules put a theme song for your character at the end of your Character Sign-Up sheet.
  8. Upon the death of a character, their items may be taken for personal usage. Dead player's inventory is fair game as long as you are able to access the items physically.
  9. Remember player knowledge, characters don't know everything going on so if you're not anywhere nearby you can't possibly know what happened.
  10. No controlling other characters.
  11. You can't dodge everything.
  12. Keep it within the rating!
  13. This is Night Vale, and very strange things will happen...and sometimes they just appear to happen.


Silence is golden, words are vibrations, and thoughts are magic...

Welcome...to Night Vale

wtnv_smaller_1200.jpg
 
Last edited by a moderator:
A Rather Unfortunate Morning

Cecil's smooth baritone comes through your radio speakers...

Night Vale Community Radio





good_night__night_vale__good_night_by_onlysan-d6mjmob.png





Your radio crackles as the morning NVCR broadcast comes over its waves. You did not turn it on, you don't ever turn it on. It tends to turn itself on, as if the radio itself cannot help but share Cecil's smooth tones with you.


"The world is spinning, and we are all holding on by our feet...Welcome to Night Vale." Cecil says, the light outside the window the normal desert orange, a hint of pink breaking through from the direction of Desert Bluffs.


"The City Council would like to remind you that today there is a public meeting at noon in the Night Vale High gymnasium. As always; attendance is mandatory, and the Sheriff's Secret Police will be around to issue a helpful reminder...should you forget.


"Mayor Pamela Winchell issued a statement reminding everyone that food is not provided, after last years sudden breakout of a mysterious plague due to donated food.


"Well I don't know about you, Listeners, but I won't be missing Old Women Josies' overly dry corn biscuits *laughs*.


"In other news, the absolutely horrendous and terrible town of Desert Bluffs announced that yet another Strexcorp plant will be built in their town. I hope it falls on their miserable, sweaty, terrible, pale, awful heads, but what can I do?


"And now, traffic. As always, Route 800 is closed for construction both ways, and there are cars driving on roads, because that is what they do..."





Cecil's voice continues, and like many mornings in Night Vale, you awake with a feeling of certain existential worry. The town meeting, no doubt, will be a terrible time indeed.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Maximilian Vernon Barringer sat on his front porch, as in literally on the porch, cross legged, no old-man's rocker for him. Bill The Cat was sitting in his lap, purring softly. A cold glass in his hand, full of what could be mistaken as orange juice mixed with motor oil. It tasted worse, but "Damned if it doesn't put hair on your chest, eh, Bill?" He scratched the cat's head, and the radio in the window behind him kicked on. He listened half-heartedly, only really paying attention to the news about the town meeting. He had been out of town last year, so he had missed both the meeting and the plague. At least, he assumed he had been out of town, he was probably so stoned at the time, he didn't remember.


The radio rattled off the weather, the traffic, the nothing-of-importance, before clicking itself back off again. "Better check the weeds today, Bill, they were getting pretty tall last I checked." He ignored the fact that Bill had jumped down and stalked into the house at least five minutes ago. Max stood and walked around the house into the side-yard, where his modest greenhouse was, his cane in hand, unused as usual. "Well, they're just about ripe for the pickin'" he noted, eying his tomatoes and cucumbers. He has just started a fresh batch of smoke-weed a few days ago, it would be a while before it was ready to use, but he could wait, "I can quit anytime," he always told himself, and he probably could, too.


Taking his produce inside, washing them off and slicing a thick, red tomato to stuff into his Butterball turkey sandwich, he put the remaining vegetables in the refrigerator, neatly stacked and sorted. He glanced at the clock on the wall, noted the hands creeping close to 10am. "As if the day didn't have anything better to do than waste my time," he grumbled, pulling out a pack of Camels and lit one up, stuffing the rest of the box in his carpenter-jeans pocket and the matches into his shirt pocket. "Well, I can get something productive done before hitting the road, at least."


"Something productive" entailed going into his basement gymnasium, a fairly sized room full of workout equipment and various pieces of similar machinery, and throwing various weights at the sandbag for an hour. He had just reached fifty pound weights when the bag burst open, scattering the sand all over the floor and covering several bystanding weights and some books in physical fitness he had never read. "Psh, I knew that cheapskate at the store was pulling my leg. 'The only sandbag that's tougher than you, my aunt Matilda!'" He didn't have an aunt Matilda, but he knew that if he did, she wouldn't be happy with his sandbag either.


Thirty minutes later, half the sand was shoved back into the bag, now lying on the floor, while the cats had made use of the other half as a litter box. "Elvis, you ain't nothin' but a hound dog's chow if you don't scat, cat!" He glanced at the clock, thirty minutes til noon. "Day wasted, I tell ya." He threw on his shirt, which he had taken off during his exercise, bright blue with orange and light green pattern today, and headed out the door. He got in his Beauty, revved up the engine and tore out of the drive way at fifty miles an hour, blasting Led Zeppelin's sultry sounds of "Ramble On" at eighty decibels.
 
Isaac awoke to Cecil's familiar voice crackle through a radio. "Oh, Jesus." he gasped, fighting back the urge to vomit and assessing his current whereabouts. If only to add to the somewhat uncertain nature of waking up after binge drinking, he also had to factor in this was Night Vale- he could wake up anywhere.


It wasn't the subterranean city underneath Lane 5 of the Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex, which was good.


It also wasn't the hole in the parking lot outside Ralphs, which was also good. Last time he had woken up there....well, he didn't like to think about last time he woke up there. It had taken him so long to find his clothes.


He had clothes on, which he also supposed was good. Dress slacks, some black shoes, a white shirt and a black tie. He would have looked rather dashing actually. Well, if had he not been scruffy, if his hair hadn't been a mess, if his shirt had been completely tucked in, and if his tie had been done. But still, who could really be picky? Some people liked the rough look. Or so he was told. He ran his hands through his thick blond hair to get it out of his face, and put a cigarette in his mouth. There was no surgeon general warning on the pack, in its place was a message that said, "Remember, death must be worked towards! End mortality entitlement."


"This fuckin' city." he muttered, lighting the cigarette and finally realizing where he was. He had passed out in the car lot by Old Woman Josie's, every radio in the running, junked, or destroyed cars had come on at the same time. Isaac had learned a long time ago to not question things like this, lest the Secret Police decided to pay him a visit. Was hard enough being an outsider in Night Vale, he tried to blend in. He had accepted quite some time ago that Route 800 was forever closed. He would not leave Night Vale, could not leave Night Vale.


"Maybe this is Hell." he said aloud, then he remembered that Old Woman Josie said there were angels in her house, and he didn't feel like offending them either, so he began his walk back towards town. He found his tan trench coat not far from him, which had served as his bedroll. Dusting it off, he slipped into it and blew a large puff of smoke from his mouth, staring at the somehow-still-gray-despite-it-being-daytime-sunrise.


"This fuckin' city." he said again, shaking his head and heading towards the blinking light atop the Night Vale Community Radio broadcast tower.
 
Alexandria milled around the Night Vale Public Radio break room, listening to her nicest boss's smooth deep voice flow out of the radio, not many people knew this, but they always recorded live. Cecil, her aforementioned boss, had just mentioned the meeting later. "Ughhhhh." She groaned. Why did she even have to go to those? Its not like she had any power to change the own! At least its not as boring as back home. She thought. There was always that. Lost in thought, she almost stepped on one of the many scorpions who lived in the break room. Seeing the scorpion snapped her out of her thoughts and remembered why she was sent here in the first place. She grabbed three coffee mugs and filled each of them to the point that each of their future drinkers enjoyed, added all of the right amount of cream and sugar, with her less nice bosses, Station management, the having coffee that was too bitter could be fatal. At least it keeps me on my toes! She smirked at her inner selfs optimism.


She walked down the hall towards the door in which the station management lived and placed the first cup of coffee outside of the small door at the base of the normal door that mysteriously appeared overtime Station Management wanted coffee and knocked three times. Alex then hurried away, knowing that if she stuck around she would end up like intern Amy. She took a long sip from the second coffee, that one being hers, and began the strangely long walk towards Cecil's booth. As she walked she began thinking about intern Amy and, more specifically, the words Cecil had said about her. "Intern Amy had a run in with Station Management earlier while bringing them coffee, and will be missed." Would she someday become just another "will be missed" on Cecil's broadcast? And if she did, would Cecil even feel a little sad about it? Would there be someone listening who would feel sad about it? Oh shut up. Every time you get like this you end up doing some stupid thing to make yourself feel better. One of these days you're going to end up with another dirt-bike incident.





She finally reached Cecil's booth and quickly poked her head and arm in, carefully placing the cup on his desk, as so to make sue it didn't make noise, disrupting the broadcast. He mouthed a quick thanks to her before continuing his broadcast. After leaving the booth she quickly caught his eye and mouthed "I'm going to get going to the meeting. See you there?" He nodded and she walked towards the door. Once outside she leaned against the radio tower, taking out her MP3 player and selected her favorite playlist, classic rock, put in her earbuds, and began her trek to Night Vale High, all the while shamelessly dancing, air guitar-ing, and sometimes singing along to the music.
 
Death Bell sat on the top of the tank watching water drip from her hair to the freshly polished theater floor. There was something so very entrancing about those little drips. Perhaps they were remnants of the secret, the one that had helped her out of her last little practice trick this morning. That trick of course being a quite precarious escape from the tank on which she was now sitting, while wrapped in the heavy chain which was now on her lap, that was locked with the six locks which were now on the floor, with the six keys which were now in her hand. She giggled jingling the keys in hand and preparing to think of what she should practice next when the radio sitting in the thirteenth seat of the front row that she always had because she enjoyed music while she practiced crackled to life. She hoped it wasn't intending to play pop music, she absolutely hated pop music. But her fears were eased as Cecil's voice floated smoothly out of the speakers. She was only partially listening, as she always did when Cecil spoke, but her ears perked up at the mention of a town meeting. She shrugged hopping down from the tank and to the floor.


Humming to herself and still dripping water she made her way upstairs. Once in her apartment she grabbed a towel to dry off. Glancing at herself in the large mirror that fronted her mirror trap she decided she would indeed have to change, her skirt and corset were far to wet to be worn to a meeting. Still rubbing her hair she headed to her room to change. Almost 20 minutes later she was back, hair dried and recurled, and dressed in a black corset, skirt, and white straight jacket with multiple buckles, she was ready to go. Before that however she had to feed her pets. Placing a silver key at the bottom of the bird dish she filled it with bird seed. The key went to gate of the white mice cage that fed into her python's terrarium. When he was done eating his fill his weight would be enough to trigger the instant feeder for the two black mice. Heading out the door she grabbed a cup of tea, sprinkling in a pinch of pale purple powder.


"Lucifer please behave and make sure Monty doesn't try to eat Bonny or Clyde...."


Sweeping out of her apartment she was soon down the stair and on her way to the highschool on her motorcycle, arms fastened in her straight jacket and a heavy chain with eight locks wrapped around the throttle for the bike giving it gas and preventing breaking unless unlocked. She was steering with her feet which were bare. It would take twenty minutes to get to the school parking lot. Twenty minutes to escape. She grinned happily.
 
Two hours just sitting here cross-legged on the dry desert sand. Two hours waiting patiently, camera hung around the neck like a noose, scarcely making any movement. Two hours Lydia had watched for any sign of her precious lizard with no luck. She was just getting up to leave when her radio crackled on and the pleasant voice of Cecil sounded across the desert, startling her. She breathed deeply and sighed, grabbing up what was left of the breakfast she had packed for herself and standing up. She was thoroughly exasperated by yet another early-morning failure. Since she had entered the town she'd seen neither head nor tail of the flat-tailed horned lizard in all of its disk-shaped spiky glory. Fuck this. Tomorrow morning she was sleeping in.


What she wouldn't give for her van to be fixed up. It would be another thirty minutes until she would make it to the high school, so she figured she better start going. After all it was, as these meetings tended to be, mandatory to attend. Not that anyone tried to stay away from them; there was the Secret Police to thank for that. She wasn't sure why they were called the Secret Police, for being talked about on the air didn't make them very secret at all, now did it? Everything here was strange, though. There wasn't a single place that wasn't without its own quirk, but Night Vale sure brought it to a new level entirely.


"Two months, he said. Two months for new parts," Lydia muttered to herself, rolling her eyes. She blamed it on that, but she was at the point where she was staying here of her own accord. She could have pushed the order or called her parents. Done something. But she hadn't, and it was because it would be pointless. This place was as good as the place that she was going to, anyway. The lizard's territory extended well into this area. It would be just as difficult to find anywhere else as it would be here, and besides she'd already been here for months now. She knew the people. They were strange, but good... mostly.


Twenty minutes later and she was finally back in the town. Most people seemed to be heading to the High School now, their cars chugging along the small roads. Lydia wasn't alone walking the sidewalk. There were others there, though not many. That wasn't too surprising given the population of the place, though. Here they were, like cows to slaughter, winding their way through town as per their master's bidding.


I wouldn't be surprised if one day we ended up walking straight into a meat grinder.
 
It was 11:50 AM. Greg knew he had put it off long enough. While he knew of the "existence" of the "Secret Police", he wasn't all too sure that they actually did exist. If they did exist, he might get that "reminder" today, even though he'd arrived a month previously, skipped all "mandatory" meetings, and received no trouble from them. Who knows? Maybe he could get lucky yet again and they would remain oblivious to his existence. Deep down, Greg knew he was pushing his luck. Many people already knew of his whereabouts and it was only a matter of time before the Secret Police did as well.


He kicked his feet over the side of his brown, levitating mattress and stood. While he wasn't sure why his mattress or anything in this town did what it did, it wasn't an inconvenience most of the time. There were times where it sunk into the floor boards, letting roaches crawl onto his pillow, or times when it appeared to be glued to the ceiling, but overall, it served him well.


Coffee was not a luxury he had, seeing as he was doing his best to lay low here. The inhabitants and happenings of Nightvale were strange enough without him added to the mix; he didn't want to be sucked into the madness or contribute to it.


Greg snapped himself out of his thoughts and made himself run down the stairs. He wasn't sure where the High School was, but he knew he didn't want to be late.
 
Vernon stared out the window as the sun rose, another nearly sleepless night ending. Grabbing the bottle of gin to his left he downed the last swig. He looked around his dusty little house and his eyes fell on a picture. It was one of the only things in the house not covered in dust and dirt. Picking it up he looked at the girl in the picture. Her long brown hair shining in the sun. His eyes drifted down to the little girl. She had only been a year old when the picture was taken. Vernon set the picture down and wiped a tear from his eye. He missed their smiles almost as much as he missed them. I will find you guys. I promise. Vernon opened the back door and threw the gin bottle in the air. With a swing of his arm, he drew the Peacemaker from his hip, cocked it, and fired, exploding the bottle in the air.


Vernon stepped back inside and shut the door. Opening the revolver, he removed the spent case and replaced it with a fresh one. Vernon set the revolver down next to the picture and brought the spent case to his nose and breathed deep. The smell of gunpowder was the only thing that really kept him going anymore. Before leaving, Vernon looped the metal wires over the inside of the doorknob and shut the door and locked it behind him. Vernon slid the door light to the left revealing a fuse panel. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled a fuse out and stuck it in place. As soon as he did, he heard the familiar crackle that let him know the doorknob was electrified again. At least that'll take one of them out.





Vernon climbed into his cougar and sped across the dirt. He looked into the distance and could see the police station. Parking outside, Vernon strode in through the front door, removing his hat as he entered. The station was exactly what you would expect for a desert ghost town. Dusty wood floors and a lone dirty desk behind which sat a man in a dirty police uniform. The station would have been right out of an old Andy Griffith show except for two things. The first thing that bothered Vernon was that he had never seen a station without a jail cell. That and the fact that over half of the station lay behind a large metal door labeled "Sheriff's Office." That door bothered Vernon the most. Not because he had never seen it open. Not even because there was no door knob on this side. But because it was locked by the most sophisticated electronic key lock he had ever seen.


Turning his eyes back to the man at the desk. Vernon rapped on the desk. Hey bud. Any news yet? I know you said you would check the visitors logs. The man looked up at Vernon through large aviator sunglasses. I told ya I'd call ya iffin we found sometin. I didn't find nothin. Ya been here six months now Vern. Why don't you just give up. Ya ain't gone find nuthin. Vernon was just about to speak when he heard the familiar crackle of the radio. Cecil's voice came over and reminded them of a meeting at the high school. It was bad enough that the radio started itself, but worse was how this "officer" seemed to be glued to the radio. After the announcement ended the radio cut to static but instead of turning it off, the officer just turned back to Vernon and propped his feet up on the desk. Best git movin now. Dun wanna be late.





Vernon put his hat back on his head and headed for the door. Keep up the hard work Officer Fife. The officer snorted as Vernon walked out the door. Starting up the cougar, Vernon left the station in a cloud of dust as he headed for the High School. As he headed down the road, he saw Lydia walking down the road. Pulling up next to her, he rolled down the passenger window. Any luck with your pictured today Lydia? Need a lift?





@Esoteric Truth
 
The town meeting is bustling as people fill in the seats of the gymnasium. In front is the long table with microphones that the City Council will sit at, though why they each needed a mic when they always speak in unison is beyond you. The Mayor, Pamela Winchell, is calmly standing off to the side, observing the crowd as they fill in.


The Secret Police are lazily providing security, strange equipment hanging from their belts. You notice someone peculiar, a man in a tan jacket, carrying a deerskin suitcase. You realize that no matter how hard you try, you cannot focus on his face...though it is very clearly a face. The details are just...shrouded...


But I'm sure it is nothing. When you are ready, take your seat, and the meeting will begin.


(No rush, just providing direction:))
 
Pulling up into the high school parking lot at outrageously high speed, he pulled it swiftly into a narrow parking spot that the car just barely fit into. Maximilian squeezed his way in between his own car door and the large Suburban next to him, narrowly avoiding putting a large scratch in their shiny black paint job. He filed inside, along with the other sheeple of this town. He'd much rather be elsewhere, anywhere, probably smoking his brains out, but he'd learned that these mandatory meetings were MAN-DA-TORY. Once, the Secret Police had dragged his half-conscious body into a seat in the back row, where he had mumbled "Mammy's li'l baby loves shortnin' bread," to himself through the entire session. This time, however, he was more than alert, he was determined to pick out the hogwash from the trough, so to speak. He had a feeling deep down that this town was more than just plain strange, there was something wrong with it. But, he could never quite put his finger on it, so he was always on the lookout for more weirdness.


The first thing that caught his attention was the man in the tan jacket, but there was something off about him, like trying to grab a polished bowling ball with silk gloves, it just kept slipping his mind. Max spent the entire time before the event started just staring at this strange man with seemingly no identity. "It's gotta be that suitcase, you don't get those kind of deer around here," Max muttered suspiciously, though not loud enough to cause suspicion. He put his hand under his chin and scratched at it, "He must be from New Guinea or Iowa or something."
 
"Well that went much better than last time..."





Halibell gave herself a mental pat on the back as she headed into the school building. She had managed to get free just before ramming straight into the front of the school building. A good thing to because she really didn't feel like coughing up the money for repairs...again. She had left the bike parked out front. Well not exactly parked, it was more accurately lying on the ground at the end of a very long skid mark that ran into the grass. Swinging the long sleeves of her straight jacket as she hummed to herself she made her way down the hall and into the gymnasium. By the time she came through the door her jacket was once again securely fastened and padlocked. She glanced around her gaze first going to the gathered City Council and then the strange man with a suitcase. As she made her way to a seat she found herself staring intently at the man. There was something rather strange about him but she couldn't place it.


She asked the voices of course but they didn't know either being the less than helpful buggers they were when it didn't come to traps. Spotting the familiar figure of Max seated already she made her way in that direction plunking down beside him. She was used to seeing him about and the eccentric man was one of the few she let in to the theater if he ever bothered to show up. Besides he was to busy with his own thoughts to notice her most likely. That suited her just fine as she was free to complete her escape with no questions because she hated questions almost as much a pop music.
 
"Lay your weary head too reeeeest, don't you cry no more, no!" As Alex began air-guitaring the awesome solo from her favorite song, she noticed that she had somehow walked into the school without noticing. "Oh." SHe paused the song and walked into the gymnasium and studying her surroundings. According to Cecil, if she hoped to ever become the host of the show like she wanted to eventually do, she would have to keep her reporters instincts sharp and study everything.


First she saw the table where their scary, yet interesting, city council would sit. She noticed the secret police watching the group, not quite as alert as expected, and waved to her friend who she didn't know by anything other than "That Secret Police Guy Who Brought Me Home After I Accidentally Walked Into A Building And Fell Asleep" who waved back, in a professional way. Looking closer she noticed The Man In The Tan Jacket, who's face she could, as usual, not make out.


Alex, having made pretty much no friends upon moving to Night Vale(no surprise there), had absolutely no idea where to sit. Its the terror of the lunchroom all over again. She shuddered, remembering the horrors of being a teenager with nobody to talk to at lunch. Just choose a seat and sit in it, you twit! Sighing, she made her way over to the row where she recognized those two people... oh she never was good with names, especially since they had never told her their names... Oh! She remembered now. It was the escape artist and the guy who was high a few meetings ago! She carefully sat at the end of the row, which was empty except for the three of them, and hoped that maybe this time somebody would talk to her.
 
Lydia turned around as she heard her name called, suddenly snapped out of the day dreaming she had found herself in. The mouth it came from was one Vernon Journot. He was a tall thin man, with a few sparse hairs on his long face and a mass of brown hair that was most often barely seen underneath his cowboy hat. In fact, everything about Vernon was country. There were few things that Lydia knew of him, but she knew that he wore belt buckles and drove in that Cougar of his. A pickup would have been more fitting, she mused, giving him a tight smile and with some degree of hesitance walking towards the car, paper bag underneath her crossed arms. Where she grew up, you didn't go into a stranger's car. But here things were different. Besides, it wasn't like he would be able to kidnap her ad take her anywhere. If they didn't show up for the meeting the Secret Police would show up. No harm in accepting a little help, was there?


"Yeah, that'd be great, Vernon," she replied, opening the car door and climbing inside. "I didn't take any pictures today. I haven't caught sight of a single lizard. Or at least not any of the ones I'm looking for." She sighed and buckled her seat, shifting slightly as she did so. Cocking her head, she looked back at her temporary companion and half-smiled before closing the car door with a nod. It was nice of him to offer. She saw him around here and there, and though they weren't exactly what she'd call friends she supposed there was nothing to be afraid of. God, since when did I become so damn skittish? On the other hand, since when did it become acceptable again to invite people into your car? He probably doesn't lock his doors, either.


"Thanks for the ride, by the way. I've already been walking for ages. So, um... are you... what do you think the meeting is about?" asked Lydia awkwardly, furrowing her brows. Small talk was not her specialty. Then again, what was? "I'm sorry, I suck at talking to people. Stupid question, I know. Who ever knows what these meetings are about? Given this town, it could be anything." She shrugged, frowning slightly. It was true. For all she knew they would be telling her that cameras did not exist, but were also outlawed. It would probably be another reminder about the Dog Park. The one with no dogs. Or people. Or anything. The one you definitely absolutely could never ever go into. Why? Because that was how things were here.


Strange. That's how things are here.
 
Aaron parked his car into the high school parking lot. He didn't know why he came to this meeting, he just moved in. But he didn't feel like meeting the secret police, whoever they are. Lucky for him he wasn't the only one, when he looked around the parking lot he saw more cars parked and some who just arrived. I guess when they say mandatory they really mean it. He locked his car and just followed some people to the gymnasium.


It took Aaron awhile to find the high school. It's probably because the only things he saw of this town other than his small house where the KFC and.. that's it. He probably should find the grocery store once this meeting's over. Maybe he should start unpacking his stuff. I guess this night is not gonna be over soon.


Aaron decided to sit at the back row so people wouldn't pay attention to him. He did plan on listening to these people. Not because he cared, it was because he was curious. This place made him feel weird. It made him feel like he should lock every door and every window at night. Like he shouldn't open the door for anyone once the sun went down. Also what's wrong with the dog park? Why do you need a dog park when no one can come there? It's dumb really. But maybe this meeting will answer some of his questions. Although there was this awfully big chance that he would leave with even more questions.


Maybe I should have gone to college...
 
Jessicka showed up in the gymnasium, yawning before having a seat next in the back. She noticed that the guy next to her seemed to be thinking deeply. As she pet Lizzy's skull, she leaned forward to get a better look at his face and grinned for no apparent reason.
 
Looking up he saw someone next to him looking at him with a grin. Shocked that someone was starring at him he almost fell from his chair. ''Oh euhm hey?'' he said with an uncertain voice. Why was she starring at me? Wait I mean why IS she starring at me?
 
"Hii." She kept watching him. "Lizzy wants to know what you're thinking about." She gingerly lifted the cat skull near his face and opened its jaw.
 
When he saw the cat skull he fell from his chair on his back. ''Oh you know...school and stuff'' he said while looking at the ceiling. He didn't want to look at the skull. Who carries around a skull? I mean... Really? That's... creepy.
 
"School's good. Lizzy thinks that school is important, but doing what you want is what keeps you alive." She paused, lowering the skull. "She's not alive though. So it's hard to believe anything she says." She looked back at him. "Is sitting on the floor okay for this meeting?" She asked, frowning at him.
 
''I don't know... because I'm lying on the ground '' He still looked at the ceiling. He didn't want to look at her and realize that maybe his mother was right. Maybe he should have gone too college. Wait... maybe just maybe. Maybe this is the right place. He wanted to know more about the world. And maybe some weird town can tell him everything he wants to know.
 
"The guys with the funky belts are shaking their heads." She observed matter-of-factly. "I don't think being on the floor is okay this time." She sounded a little worried. "Maybe you should get up now."
 
Aaron sprung up and looked around him. He saw the people with the 'funky belts' and quickly sat down again. Keeping his gaze locked on sneakers. Okay... maybe I should lock my doors tonight. And windows. And I'll just watch TV the whole night. No sleep. Just TV and video games.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Users who are viewing this thread

Total: 2 (members: 0, guests: 2)

Similar threads

monkeydoll555
Fandom dreamlight valley - in character
Replies
0
Views
60
monkeydoll555
monkeydoll555
FaeFoolery
Realistic or Modern Court of Blood [An Original Vampire Roleplay]
dark fantasy urban fantasy vampire
Replies
12
Views
497
CinnamorollLoverVAVR
CinnamorollLoverVAVR
Vee27
Fantasy Exorcists vs. Ghosts
Replies
3
Views
50
Vee27
Vee27
Elenion Aura
Fantasy DUNGEON DELVER: Secrets of Caedia — Expedition #5, The Frozen Waste
Replies
12
Views
368
Topless
Topless
summerlush
Realistic or Modern gossip girl: new royals — a small-group roleplay — open
Replies
1
Views
50
summerlush
summerlush
Back
Top