and now, the weather

[enthymeme]

Every house in Night Vale has a luxurious view of the void. We also have great schools and plenty of spiders! Who wouldn’t want to settle down in Night Vale?

You're in a lovely little desert town. Are you a resident? Or a visitor?

Maybe you wish to visit Radon Canyon? ("The View is Literally Breathtaking!") Or perhaps you could go explore the Sand Wastes, looking for the local barber, who they say carries a pair of scissors and a cactus with which he threatens passers-by. The Whispering Forest is another lovely feature. You could always visit the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Fun Complex and try their excellent buffalo wings.

Or maybe you just want to stay in and listen to the local radio station, featuring local weather, news, announcements from the Sheriff's Secret Police, mysterious lights in the night sky, dark hooded figures with unknowable powers, and cultural events.

Welcome to a friendly desert community where the sun is hot, the moon is beautiful and mysterious lights pass overhead while we all pretend to sleep. Welcome to Night Vale.

---

By request, a Night Vale AU meme!

÷ Post your character with the standard name/canon/preferences. (Optionally, also set a scene for where they are, what they're doing, and so forth.)
÷ Tag around with other occupants of Night Vale.
÷ Try not to look at the dog park.

Comments

Dean Winchester | Supernatural

[righteously]

[Preferences:
Case or full-blown AU are both good, slight preference toward the latter.
Shipping = cast mates / previous threaders
Gen / Crossover / Medium Divide okay.]

let me know if this works/if you want me to change anything!

[freewill]

[The angels have never quite understood Night Vale.

Castiel's superiors have pondered over the place for centuries, but the fact is that there's no explaining it. It's a hotbed of supernatural activity contained to one patch of desert in North America for what seems to be no reason. There are theories, of course, about rituals performed on that ground in ages past. On wormholes that are letting in creatures and phenomena from other dimensions. But even Heaven doesn't have a clear idea of what's happening in the sleepy little town.

It's why a small platoon of them have been sent down. Not to interfere, necessarily, but to observe. And if they just so happen to get to the bottom of what makes Night Vale the way it is, then maybe some kind of action could be taken.

There's no denying the death toll, after all. As much as Castiel realizes that they're supposed to look but not touch, so to speak, a part of him wants to help, wants to fix things and prevent humans from dying needlessly.

For the most part, they're ignored. The town doesn't seem to want to acknowledge them, save for Josie, who's been willing to converse with them and allow them into her home. Other than that, though, most of the townspeople keep their eyes averted whenever Castiel bothers to travel to another part of the town.

They've done some exploring, of course -- of the bowling alley, and the local grocery store. While Castiel realizes that he's on assignment, he can't help but be curious about the way these people live as well.

One day, though, Josie comes to them with news about a resident who's been taking matters into his own hands lately. His name is Dean Winchester, and he's apparently chosen to stop turning a blind eye to the oddities of the town. He's even started hunting down the creatures who cause trouble in Night Vale, in order to prevent more death.

Castiel isn't able to hold back his curiosity any longer. Dean Winchester is doing as he wishes he could, and that is deserving of a closer look. Without telling the other angels, he sneaks out from Josie's and makes his way to Dean's house.

His shoes drag through the gravel as he approaches. The garage is open and there's a light on. Despite the late hour, it seems that Dean's still awake. Castiel pauses for a few moments, uncertain whether or not Dean will even acknowledge him. But if he's been facing Night Vale's strangeness head on, then an angel should be nothing to shy away from.

As Castiel steps into the garage he first sees a black car, and then catches sight of the two legs poking out from under it. His very presence gives off a hum and a glow, and so he sees no need to speak up just yet.]

carlos (the scientist) | welcome to night vale

[badhaircut]

[ oh my god yes. ]

Cecil | Welcome To Night Vale

[andnowtheweather]

Molly Hooper | Sherlock (BBC)

[itwasntworkingforme]

[communitysupported]

[It's the middle of the day, and everyone's favorite radio host is at the local Starbucks. He doesn't even need to order at this point. For the most part, Cecil is a creature of habit.

The sugar-filled decaf drink is in his hands shortly after, and he sits at an outside table, enjoying the iced beverage.

It's a slow news day, which is why he's taking his long break outside the studio. Looking for anything more interesting than the basic line-up of "news" he has for the day.]

Will Graham | Hannibal

[behindtheireyes]

[missesthewar]

Night Vale was the last place John Watson ever expected to find himself at the end of his third and final tour of duty in Afghanistan. Truthfully, he didn't expect to find himself anywhere but six feet under, which would have been his preference in some ways.

Because John Watson carried his family's curse--in spades. The foresight, that he could touch someone and see their future. Not their entire future, no. He could see their death. Or rather, their most likely deaths. Ordinary people usually had a few quite strong ones, dense packed by genetic predilections or habits, and a few thrown in by chance.

Morbid, really, knowing when you shook hands with someone that you could see their demise. His sister coped with drink, as their father had done. John went the opposite way, throwing himself into war, maybe to prove to death that he wasn't afraid of it. With the added side benefit that combat was unpredictable enough that there was less inevitability to it all, more of a chance to actually do something. Only, he managed to get shot in a non-fatal way, and given an honorable discharge home.

He still didn't know what had possessed him to board a flight for the States, let alone to board a bus at random and then just keep going. He almost felt asleep as he'd done it, like he was dreaming the entire time. He remembered being the last one off, and that the driver hadn't said anything as John ambled down the stairs and stared almost blankly at the blinking lights that were so definitely not stars in the sky above.

[OOC: Feel free to use this as a starting point. Feel free to take him from later on too if you want!]

[bydefinition]

[ The local Greyhound station is home to the largest public parking lot in Night Vale. Spots are usually taken up by tumbleweeds and ghost cars - and really, why do they even need a spot? It's not like they ever follow traffic laws.

Stiles is sitting at the entrance, marking down the speeds of everything that passes by, a soft electronic voice reading out the radar results.

There's a sidewalk in front of him, the only path back to the city proper. Unless John wanted to try his luck catching the next bus, which should be bound to arrive any day now. Any day. ]

Stiles Stilinski | Teen Wolf | OTA

[skybluejeep]

Here, down in the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex, the vast subterranean city beneath Lane 5 stirs, awakens into dreadful, horrific consciousness. Their lives are inimical to ours, dear listeners, and always have been. They always have been. Do not attempt to run. Bar your windows and arm yourselves with common household items. Raid and 409 are known to shrivel their sensitive eyeballs, dark with the miasma of hate and indifference and bargain hunting. Is that why they're here, Night Vale? Is that why they march on our little desert community? Are they, in fact, simply the real estate agents of the damned, driving down property values to flip them for later resale?

A young man is playing Street Fighter at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex. The second Street Fighter, for the record. He has no quarters, and the machine is flashing "GAME OVER" in bright neon orange letters, and yet still he plays on, ignorant of the army behind him, out for their nighttime raids and Arby's run.

Edward Nygma | DC Comics

[questionslinger]

[ Here to investigate! To detect like a detective! AU or Batcanon - God knows Night Vale could exist in the DCU somewhere. ]

Kaworu Nagisa | Evangelion 3.0

[paraclete]

[Here's a boy, young and at ease, lingering at the start of a crosswalk as though he's deliberating whether or not to take his first step. He's standing close to the corner's traffic pole, with one hand in his pocket and the other pinching a folded square of lined paper. It's got directions written on it, which he's examining. He's heard of the angels flocking to Old Woman Josie's house, and has it in mind to join the host. So, here he is, existing, right on the sidewalk, in plain sight. Whatcha gonna do about it, City Council???]


( preferences are terribly open; this can be a full Night Vale AU, or just some bizarre twist of his existence. )

Dave Strider | Homestuck | OTA

[texanknightime]

Hit me with your best shot.

Morticia Addams | The Addams Family

[madamemorticia]

[Finally, a place she can feel at home!]

[communitysupported]

Welcome to Night Vale.

[The voice comes easily as the man leans against the nice little picket fence out of the house that was just rented. The residents might not be staying forever (there's been some gossip that it's just a vacation home, but that's fine, too) but Cecil is still going to be friendly.

He makes it a point to greet all newcomers.

And from the look of the things they've unpacked from their van? These are precisely the sort of people who ought to come to Night Vale. That means they might actually stay! Unlike most newcomers who... simply leave. Or disappear. Same thing, really.]

My name's Cecil.

I wanted to make sure someone gave you a proper welcome.

Tomoe Hotaru | Sailor Moon

[deathrevolution]

[She is Death herself, some people say, or perhaps a harbinger thereof. Death's messenger, a preteen psychopomp wandering the town she seems to call home. She has no known place of residence, does not linger in any one location in particular, but always seems to just be there, sometimes only a shadowed flicker in the corner of one's eye.

She is polite enough when spoken too, however, and never causes any kind of fuss. And the only time fireflies can be seen flitting through the desert night is when she is nearby, on whatever errand takes her there.]

Jim Kirk / Star Trek

[kirk]

James T Kirk is Captain of an intergalactic space ship, who boldly goes where no one has gone before. He's received medals and commendations for his multiple heroic adventures, and it's safe to say he's living up to his late father's legacy, who also died heroically in the line of duty.

Of course... no one has ever seen his space ship, though they do admit that Jim Kirk can dissapear for weeks or months at a time.

And everyone knows that George Kirk died in a car accident. But Jim comes up with some mighty fine stories, and who doesn't like to think that someone, somewhere is making the universe a better and more explored place, one mission at a time.

dot matrix • reboot (à la "a story about you")

[militance]

[ She had never left Mainframe her entire life; there were always things that needed to be done, little brothers to take care of, viruses to contain. Her father was a brilliant scientist, who sought to find more systems out there than there own. She saw things enter her system — Guardians, hackers, viruses — but never had she found herself out of it.

Not until Night Vale, that is. There was an irresistible urge, a magnetic pull that plagued her every moment of the day. It disrupted her work, left her longing for something that never was, for things she did not, and still does not know. In the archives, the Gateway Command called to her like a beast; frightening in size, but ultimately harmless. This was her father's work and she could not step away, couldn't pull herself from the horrors of another system out there — one other than the Supercomputer that is much more vast, much more complex...

Much more terrifying than the Web itself.

So, amongst the pale green of the Core, she stepped through.

Now, she resides in Night Vale and has for some time. She misses her home, misses everyone in Mainframe, but there is business to do here and it is the kind that requires her stay. A linger of something much darker lies on the horizon, sinking it's talons into her skin, refusing to let her go. ]

Aunt Hilda | Batman '66

[specialguestvillains]

Aunt Hilda finds Night Vale to be her kind of town. People don't generally bother her with legalistic nonsense about witchcraft and safety regulations. There's the nice boys and girls in the sheriff's secret police but they usually just go about their business without being much trouble. Aunt Hilda runs a lively business in potion making with a side order of soups and stews, and she's yet to hear complaints for either.

The locals are so kind, too. Aunt Hilda often visits Old Woman Josie and her companions for a nice cup of tea, or spends an evening knitting at the local dinner to chat with the strange besuited figures who come in the door and stare at her for a full hour without blinking. So rare to find someone who really knows how to listen. The citizens don't have the usual narrow-minded taste buds of the outside world, either. No one blinks an eye (no matter how many they have) at toad stew or her specialty stir-fried maggots with peanut sauce.

And she always has sweets for the eyeless child-like entities with faces the color of ash and mouths stretched wide, occasionally emitting a mournful wail like the call of a lonely orca. They're such polite dears.

Seth Nightroad | Trinty Blood

[charmnveil]

[It's a beautiful town; much better then Desert Bluffs, forever and always. Where else could there be a Whispering forest where compliments are given, or Glow cloud on the board of education. There are such wonderful things that can be found within the city limits.

For the moment, Seth finds herself hovering outside of the library, frowning to herself. It's a problem. Does she want a book or not? The library has grown back, and she would like to read but...

Librarians.]

((ooc: can be taken as an AU or canon! ))

Cecil - Welcome to Night Vale

[communitysupported]

[the_nightcrawler]

Another entertaining show, as always.

Sherlock Holmes | Sherlock

[the_new_sexy]

[Arriving in the Sand Wastes wasn't really the issue. Being dehydrated, possibly poisioned, and near death wasn't really the issue. After all, he was fortunate enough to run across a woman named Josie who claimed her angels could save him. The fact that he woke up a few days later outside of Josie's house with no health problems whatsoever---well, that wasn't all that concerning, either. His extreme distance from London was the concern.

He looks over the rosters for planes in Night Vale. Apparently, they arrive unexpectedly and leave unexpectedly, and that is so far from logical that Sherlock is left stunned, looking at the flight schedules.]

Sherlock Holmes ♞ Elementary

[i_favour_you]

[formersurgeon]

They had been hired to find Jonathan Stanton, the twenty year old son of a family that owned a very successful pharmaceutical company. Sherlock had initially grumbled about the rich boy doubtless deciding he'd had enough of his clingy parents and made off, that they were looking for someone who didn't want to be found, and he had half a mind to let him stay that way. But talking to his friends, including his distraught fiancee, ultimately convinced him otherwise.

Their search started getting...well, bizarre was probably the best word for it. The man had been spending a lot of time in libraries as of late. And not just one, but libraries all over the city. His fiancee reported that the last few nights before he disappeared, he had sat up in bed in the middle of the night, staring at the wall and chanting in a language she didn't understand and a voice that frightened her. Then he was gone.

They didn't know what to make of it. They tried to track down the books he had read, but the records were blank. Literally, blank screens when they tried to call up his library records. One of the librarians pointed them to a table he worked at, and they found a sigil carved into it, the grooves stained a dark reddish brown.

And then there was the phone call, a garbled, static-laced voice that told them he was in a place called Night Vale.