bakerstreet | THE BODY HORROR/HORROR MOVIE MEME.

THE BODY HORROR/HORROR MOVIE MEME.

Monsters, Mayhem, the deep darkness of the human soul. This is the meme for those tropes and ideals, the ones that change you and re-arrange you. Chose your side and follow the rules to horror movies in the following scenarios. Will you survive?

It goes without saying that this meme contains mature themes and is not appropriate for all audiences

1. Roll to decide, good guy or a bad guy.
2. Roll for your scenario.
3. Play it out, but stick to your sides.
4. So much profit it'll make your head spin.

1. You may be a victim, a cop, or the unwitting protagonist, but you are fundamentally good. There's no going back from that, something within you screams Do the right thing.
2. Whatever your reasons, whatever you do - you are a bad mamma jamma. You are making the choice to walk down the dark path regardless of it dominating your destiny. There is no going back. Do the wrong thing and enjoy it because it's fun as hell.

1. ANIMAL I HAVE BECOME.: the obligatory vampire/werewolf/zombie/sea monster meme. You've been cursed, you've been bitten, you're out to terrorize your town, make allies, and generally just give into the beastly side of your nature. You can become whatever you want. Just be warned there are people out there who want to hurt you.

2. THE DARKEST CURSE: So maybe you're not cursed to turn into something, but that doesn't mean there aren't plenty of ways that an enterprising witch or wizard could mess with you. Maybe you're growing tentacles, maybe you're gaining weight or losing weight maybe you're growing a third eye, whatever it is you're at the mercy of someone becoming something else entirely.

3. POSSESSION: demons, monsters, dead spirits, souls, or just bad places. You are no longer yourself. someone or something has crawled in there or been placed in there with you. Did you want this? Do you rejoice in it? Are your friends going to help you out?

4. 1970S SCIENCE FICTION Becoming mechanized, becoming a robot, being mutated by scientific or technology. It's something that we're afraid of. You are becoming One of Us. Will you fight or flee?

5. I'M JUST A MONSTER You're not becoming anything. Not physically at least. You are however mentally re-arranging yourself. Switch your alignment from good to bad or bad to good for this scenario and go at it. (It's the SAW/Torture option.)

6. WILDCARD do whatever you'd like, but: Keep to the roles you rolled and and B - during the thread one person must undergo a transformation of some sort.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

(( ooc: Fine with any role/roll. ))

[ There was only so long that you could run.

The same old story: the world was taken over by machines, and then they began assimilating the planet's flesh and blood. So it goes.

Kyouko was particularly good at running, and at fighting. But even a magical girl got tired, and they managed to catch her. Didn't manage to complete the operation, though, and she woke up in the middle of it, metallic claws making uncanny screeching and sawing sounds as they worked on her body. With a strangled cry, and a lurch in her stomach, she wrestled and broke free of them. They never expected a subject could regain consciousness.

She ran through the streets, rain pounding on the soaked and matted red hair that fell over half of her scalp, along with the metal quarter-sphere that made up the other half. Maybe she was going home (but there was none), or looking for somebody (no one was left). The chip in her head had other plans, and she found herself running down an unfamiliar alleyway, to a district of the city that hadn't been hit yet.

And she was starting to think this might be a good idea, helping other people join the machines. She was stronger, wasn't she, as she vaulted over a fence with one wired arm. The life before the operation was getting harder to remember, but she was sure this was better. The cyborg girl would find other people and tell them. Convince them.

There was only so long they could run. ]

Edited 2013-12-17 05:41 (UTC)

[The rumors are frightening. The rumors are unbelievable.

Terminator-esque take-overs only happen in the movies. They happen in a lot of movies. But all that talk about reality catching up to science fiction... This is never what anyone meant.

Masaomi can't sit back in his home, staring out through locked windows and patiently waiting for further instructions. Every self preservation instinct in his body shrieked at him at once, but curiosity and anxiety ring even clearer. In the end, the answer is simple. He physically can't sit still any longer, so he doesn't. The heavy rain might have deterred anyone else, but the bottle blond is unfazed tonight. He slinks through alleyways and around slick corners, searching for any signs of what's really happening outside the confines of his television screen.

What he's not expecting is to catch sight of a girl, soaked to the bone and running down the street like something possessed. His own hood is already dripping into his eyes, unable to hold any more moisture, and he doesn't mind that, but a girl...

What could she be running from?

He doesn't have much time to question. As she passes, he reaches for one of her arms and tugs her off the street into his little back alley.]

Back here! [He hisses over the sound of the rain.] I know a-

[Masaomi freezes mid-sentence.

Very slowly, he looks down until his sight alines with the sleek, cold metal wrist held within his hand.]

[ That was a big mistake.

Kyouko wrenches her arm away from his grasp and grabs him by the throat. Her first convert. How wonderful. She knows, vaguely, that she looks frightening and lopsided and intimidating and strong in the rain. She'll convince him. ]

Whatever it is you know, I know more. [ Her voice shrieks, like nails on a chalkboard, and it hurts for her to talk. They didn't finish whatever they were doing to her throat. ] I'm designed that way. You'll come with me and see.

[His hand slips over the wet metal, releasing that dangerous arm all too easily. It's at his throat faster than he can stop it, and he's left to react, gasping for air and clawing at her inhuman limb.

Through one eye, he takes in that petite figure - small and sporty, now disfigured. It's maddening, not being able to believe what he's seeing, not being able to believe that the vice grip on his neck is real. But it's going to kill him if it doesn't let up.

Raspy, chopped up syllables escape his lips in protest. He can barely understand what she's telling him, let alone respond to it. Finally, he shakes his head, as much as he's able.

Let go, let go, LET GO!]

[ This was fine. Kyouko would take him like this. He didn't seem to be complaining much, not verbally anyway (he writhed and choked, but all total-flesh did that). She advanced, backing him into a wall, if he fell unconscious from her grip then he would be easier to carry:

One leg had been replaced by robotics, too, opposite to her metal arm. The servos worked smoothly, and the joints were oiled, but loose wires stuck out at odd angles. Sudden immersion in a small puddle caused feedback.

The electricity surged through her body and to her head, and she screamed and dropped the yellow-haired total-flesh. She didn't know what was happening, there were sparks and swirls in her eyes. The one human eye filled with tears as she cowered pitifully on the ground, a wreck of what she had been before.

And the electricity did something, too, and now she could think more clearly, and it was a different Kyouko who finally swallowed her tears and looked up at the boy standing in front of her. What had she done? What had she been thinking?

What had happened to her? ]

[His eyes go wide in shock as electricity shoots up her leg and courses through her body, singeing his neck before she suddenly drops him. Through a blur of coughing, scrambling, and pain, he hastily removes himself from the wall, entirely ready to run for his life. Just as soon as his legs stop shaking.

As with every horror movie hero, however, Masaomi makes the fatal mistake of looking back. What he sees isn’t a monster, it’s a teary-eyed girl curled up in the rain, and despite his brilliant red and burning throat, he freezes, unable to take that first step needed to get away.]

You- [His voice is scratchy at best, and every breath is almost too heavy to swallow.] You’re-

[He can’t seem to get any farther than that.]

Get away from me. [ The pain in her throat comes again, and she cringes, not wanting to touch her hand there because she's scared of what she'll find. Her body feels violated by the robotics. Whatever was influencing her thoughts before is still there, in her head. She can feel it, like a small bug at the back of her mind, nursing its wounds, while it tries to reset and regroup. It could come back at any minute, and she's not sure how long she'll be able to fight it. ]

Get out of here! GO!

...You're part human.

[Apparently, it's time to ignore all extremely important warnings in favor of realization.

She's not "part machine" in his eyes, not when she approached him as something other than human, but she's still a combination of both. And this is the human... right? Are all the machines like this? He's never seen anything like it, not even on the news, but it's sitting right here in front of him.

Masaomi's throat still stings, and he can't touch it without hissing from the pain, but he can't turn his back on her either. Once he's separated the girl from the monster in his mind, it's over.]

Did they... do that? To you?

[ He's not leaving. The pain registering from various parts of her body, still smarting from the unfinished surgery, is starting to come in, and she cringes as her brain puts various parts of her mind on alert. It's enough to deal with the probe. ] Yer going to die. Look.

[ She jabs a finger at her brain. ] They put something in me. I don't have control, you get it? [ She seethes with helpless rage, but it's just part of what she did when she contracted, right? The only difference is that... it wasn't her choice this time. ] You've got to leave now.

You have control right now!

[He insists though he doesn't come closer. She's herself right now. Her voice is ruined, but she's talking like she's worried about him.]

What do you need to keep it that way? Anything! I've got it covered!

I don't know, idiot. Ya think this has happened to me before?[ The buzzing in her ears is growing louder, and she rubs at her temple to try to get it to stop. With a ... metal hand. Which is more than a little disorienting. She stares at it stupidly, sitting in the puddle in the rain.

With a shaking human leg and a sturdy robotic one, she struggles lopsidedly to her feet. ] I'm too far gone. I'm going to hurt you. So go away. [ And she turns to leave. ]

[Willfully deaf, Masaomi focuses all of his attention on figuring out what's going on. She must have escaped or something, right...? In the middle of the process. Or is she some new hybrid? Kinda hard to believe when she shorted out so easily.

She shorted out. Because of the rain?]

Maybe you're okay as long as you're out in the rain... It'd be stupid to just go back!

[Zombies aren't real. Perhaps in a world where dullahans roam the streets of Ikebukuro that isn't a fair assumption to make. Why should one category of mythological creatures be allowed the right to exist, but others denied? In any case, Saki doesn't know what to make of the sickly looking child who'd bitten her on the hand minutes before meeting Masaomi.

The bite hurt, of course, and it'd been a weird way to start the afternoon, but the child had run off after that and she didn't want to keep her boyfriend waiting for her any longer than necessary. The kid's teeth had been sharp though, and a droplet of blood oozed out of a small cut on the back of her hand. She wipes it away with a handkerchief as she walks. When she gets to the fountain where they agreed to meet, she peers around the crowd hoping to catch a glimpse of a familiar teenager.]

Edited (I'm sorry the header was driving me nuts.) 2013-12-17 06:21 (UTC)

[That familiar teenager is sitting on the edge of the fountain, idly flinging water droplets at the backs of the lovey-dovey couple a foot or two away. When he catches sight of Saki, he lights up like a bulb and hops energetically from his seat to meet her.]

Duck, duck, duck~ [He lands ungracefully in front of her and gently places his hand on top of her head.] Saki.

Edited 2013-12-17 06:28 (UTC)

[It doesn't take gracefulness to make her happy. Letting his natural exuberance wash away the scare from earlier, she puts the handkerchief in her cardigan pocket then slides her arms around his waist - because why not?]

Quack?

I would've also accepted "honk."

[He shapes his hand like a duck's bill and pinches her arm lightly when he says it. Her arms is warm around his waist, and it's nice to be so close again after his wait.]

Should we fly off into the sunset?

[She would have giggled at this at any other time or made an affectionate joke in return, but viral particles are replicating at an exponential rate in her blood as they speak, and slowly but surely Mikajima Saki is beginning to feel unwell.]

...maybe.

[Her hand itches, but she ignores that for the moment.]

Do you think I could fly with Masaomi on my back?

[She is the duck, after all. ...Or wait, maybe he was the duck. Somewhat alarmed by the fact that she can't remember this, she bites the inside of her lip, but decides maybe she just needs to sit down for a moment. But then she's not sure she wants to let go of Masaomi either. She rests her head on his shoulder, gently at first, though it quickly becomes apparent that she's doing it to keep herself standing as much as anything else.]

[He’s quick to catch onto her lack of enthusiasm. If there’s one thing he can count on, it’s that Saki always has something to say. If she’s not saying it… As the weight against him grows, he wraps his arms around her as well, and lazy fingers draw light circles as her back.]

If the big, bad man duck is caught riding his cute girlfriend duck, the other ducks in the pond will just laugh! Maybe I should be flying you.

Need to rest by the fountain? You must’ve been busy today. [He chuckles through his concern as he runs a finger through her bangs.]

[There's an intriguing innuendo in what he says that should be explored. A half formed joke about voyeurism comes to mind, but the witty comment dissolves into quiet contentment as he places a soothing hand on her back and hair. She feels warm, too warm actually, but she likes being hugged by her boyfriend too much to let go.]

If that's okay?

[She murmurs into his shoulder then pulls back enough to let him see a small smile. Vague notions of needing to see a doctor are in the background of her thoughts, and maybe they wouldn't be vague notions if she could see how her entire right hand has swollen and turned dark where blood has pooled under her skin, but for now it's still resting on Masaomi's side where she hasn't paid it any further mind.]

But won't the other ducks be jealous if Masaomi flies me?

[Of course, it's okay! Masaomi is determined to make this very clear. If a guy can't take care of his girl, then he doesn't deserve to be called her boyfriend.]

Then let's make them all jealous.

[He turns, missing the deteriorating state of her hand because of its position below his eye line, and bends down to allow her access to his back.]

When we reach the fountain, we'll be swans!

[The image is endearing endearing enough that, in spite of her malaise, Saki laughs softly and teases affectionately as he turns.]

i'm not an ugly duckling, am I?

[She means it in jest, of course, but when she raises her arms and finally catches the state of her hand she goes rigid with shock. It's too far removed from reality that she doesn't even scream; she stares at her hand in silent, wide-eyed horror - wondering, hoping, this isn't real as the face of the sick looking child from earlier leers at her from inside her head.]

Ma... Masaomi....

[She hasn't lapsed into hysteria yet. Still stuck on disbelief, she gives her diseased hand a light brush with her fingers. The skin sloughs off in thick peels of necrotized flesh and muscle. And now? Now is when she screams.]

[That tone, quiet and breathless... Hearing his name spoken like that sends a preemptive shiver down his spine.

Masaomi quickly turns. His whirling gaze locks onto her shaking hand just as she screams. The reacting crowd surrounding them vanishes in an instant. All Masaomi can see is the discolored, splitting gore on a soft hand that he had held just before they parted earlier that day. He doesn't have time to question how it happened (bit by a dog? infection? illness?). He just pushes back to his feet and hugs her tight, hiding the grotesque sight with his own body.]

We have to get you to the hospital. Now. [Hastily, he reaches for her other wrist.] Let's go.

[Swept into a tight hug, her scream turns into a muffled cry. Numb with terror, it's easier to obey and to be told what to do and all she has is this vague notion that as long as follows Masaomi, everything will be okay in the end.

We have to get you to the hospital. Now.

Despite the general din of Ikebukuro, his voice is the only thing she hears, and the only thing keeping her together because he's the only person it is worth trying for. Nodding and smiling weakly, she pointedly avoids looking down at her right hand and tries to keep her voice steady. However, just because she isn't looking at the infection doesn't mean that it isn't spreading. Her forearm is beginning to turn the same mottled blackish purple as her hand.]

I - ... okay. [She doesn't sound steady at all. In fact, she sounds as petrified as she looks and despite her assent, she doesn't move yet.] Okay - I'll.. we'll go. But promise to stay with me?

Promise.

[Rushed but intent. He squeezes her wrist and takes off with her right behind. He can't leave her now. For once, he's too panicked to think of running.

But how can he get her to where she needs to go? They're too far away. Dragging her on foot all the way to... Masaomi doesn't stop moving, guiding her away from the crowd, as close as he can get to the hospital, but he takes out his cellphone as they power walk down the sidewalk. Using shaky fingers, he only just manages to speed dial the right number.

119. Medical emergency.

The following phone conversation is short, frantic, and ends with Masaomi cursing into the screen before hanging up. Everything in his tone immediately shifts, all anger gone from his voice, the moment he turns back to Saki.]

They're expecting us two blocks ahead, okay? Come on.

[Head spinning throughout Masaomi’s harried phone call, she isn’t thinking clearly when he speaks. Her breath comes in short little gasps as they speed walk, and the world feels oddly smeary as her focus drifts in and out, like someone’s playing with radio dials and alternating between static and clarity.]

Did you call Izaya-san just now, Masaomi?

[It makes sense in its own roundabout way. That’s what she would have done in this situation. Her infected arm hangs limply in its socket. Already in an advanced state of decay, it swings grotesquely with the movements of her body. ]

((OOC: Very, very much voicetesting, here, but I feel like the sheer amount of horrible potential in an honest RNG of this could be ~~hysterical~~ terrible fun. (or, if you have a strong idea, I'll roll with that, too) ))

((OOC: No super strong ideas right now! RNG definitely works! Did you want to roll/set up or should I?))

((OOC: If it's alright with you to roll and set up, I'd appreciate it, since I'm still working on the character in the first place. I can't think of anything or place this meme could go I wouldn't be interested in, including all of the good/evil combos I can think of, but I'm also not sure enough of Carlos to reaaaaaally narrow things down.))

[ Good afternoon, Desert Bluffs! A new man came into town today. I'm not sure who he is or what he wants from us, but... oh! His coat is so clean and white! His hair is a little messy, but that's nothing a little haircut couldn't fix! With an inch or two cut off, I'm sure that hair of his would be just perfect! He looks a little lost. Maybe I'll give him a proper Desert Bluffs welcome when I'm done here... ]

[ Nearly half an hour later Kevin's show is done and over with for the day. It takes him about fifteen minutes to reach Carlos - how he knew where to find Carlos is unknown to everyone, perhaps, except for Kevin. But no matter, the methods don't matter, all that matters is that Kevin found him. Kevin does not approach Carlos from behind, that would just be uncalled for! This isn't a horror movie, after all. He's trying to be friendly, he's trying to help this newcomer! This is a friendly town that treats all of it's guests with nothing but kindness.

Maybe Kevin looks vaguely familiar to Carlos. Maybe Kevin looks similar to someone else Carlos may know with his hair and nose and tie; with his height that isn't tall and isn't short; with his build that isn't fat and isn't thin, with all of that it's very possible Kevin may remind Carlos of someone else in his life.

His eyes should not remind Carlos of anyone he knows. His eyes that are black as obsidian are unlike anything Carlos should have ever seen on anyone else. And his smile, if it can be called a smile, should not look familiar, either. There are too many teeth in that smile, teeth that are too sharp, and too white, and too... too something. Maybe threatening, in a certain light. But he doesn't mean for them to be threatening! Of course not. Kevin only means for it to be comforting, for it to shine with the happiness he feels at getting to be the one to welcome this beautiful man to their community. ]

Welcome, friend! My name is Kevin, I'm a radio host in this beautiful little town you've found yourself in! What brings you here?

[ On the hand held out in greeting are nails that are also too sharp, painted red with something that's somehow different from nail polish. And if Carlos looks closely enough, maybe he'll see a few red stains on Kevin's dark vest and pants. It's hard to tell what the red stains are, but if one were to look closely enough, they're definitely there. ]

((OOC: I totally don't mind brackets but I suck at writing them. And everything's perfect?))

He doesn't really make the best of first impressions, all told. Mostly, said first impression consists of gaping a bit like a goldfish and trying to figure out how to make sounds. "Cec-" is definitely one of them, something that might have been the start of "eyes" is another. "Radio?" makes it all the way out as a complete word, and then he abruptly shuts his mouth and seems to gather himself, more or less,

"Science," oh yes, very clever and so expository. Truly, he has not gotten his doctorate in vain. He clears his throat, tries again. He's finding it's a little easier if he concentrates on the ways this man doesn't look like the man he's been trying very unsuccessfully to not fall in love with over the last year, even if that does mean he has to look into those eyes, "Ah, that is to say, I'm here for scientific reasons," he gestures down at a device in his hand, connected to a larger one on the ground, "There's something very strange going on," he continues, provided that he's not outright interrupted, "There are earthquakes happening under Night Vale, catastrophic earthquakes, earthquakes that are completely off any charts we've even made up, much less have ever seen. My team had to come up with a whole different way to even categorize--..." he shakes his head stops, starts again, "Well, the shockwaves spread outward, like a normal earthquake's would, and I was trying to get some readings about how far they extend, but they..." he pauses again, like he knows he's about to say something completely crazy, "They just. Stop. Right here," he points to the ground where he's standing, just on the Desert Bluffs side of the big sign that says Welcome to Desert Bluffs.

And then, cutting through the science, because he can be remarkably slow on the uptake, if it's not equations and theories,

"You're the radio host, you said?" that makes him... suddenly very uncomfortable, for a whole horde of reasons he can't entirely define in the space of a few moments.

((OOC: It's cool if you don't use brackets! It's just my default format so if you'd like for me to switch to match yours, let me know!))

[ Now, I'll be honest, listeners. I know I've wondered about the sand before, but really, I've never had much of an interest in geology or science of any kind. But standing there, listening to this perfect visitor talk about earthquakes and that blinking box of his made me wish I had paid more attention when I was in school. Speaking of school, our generous parent company, StrexCorp, is sponsoring an open house down at Desert Bluffs community college! Be sure to stop by and sign up for a science class or two! Nothing says productivity like filling your mind with all the knowledge of the universe... ]

[ Kevin's hand drops when Carlos doesn't accept the proffered handshake. That's okay, though! His smile doesn't wane, if it weren't for the fact that his hand did drop, it might have even seemed like the ignored handshake went unnoticed. It may as well have. ]

That's right! I hate to say I'm the radio host. There are other shows on before and after mine, of course, although StrexCorp hasn't made any of those mandatory to listen to.

[ The modesty that shines through in his tone and the chuckle that follows his words is surprisingly genuine. And then something... does something in his eyes. In anyone else the expression might've been "his eyes light up", but that's not quite accurate for what Kevin's eyes do. His eyes are dark as ever, almost like twin black holes that suck in the light rather than reflect it. Kevin's smile widens, somehow, and becomes even less like a smile, if it was even a smile to begin with.

He knows of Night Vale! That's where Steve Carlsberg was from, that man who wrote to his station during the sandstorm! And oh, he can't be sure, but maybe. Maybe that's where his double is from! He's been thinking about it and wouldn't that just make the most sense of all? It certainly was dark in that radio booth he found himself in, fitting for a place called Night Vale, if he does say so himself. ]

Unfortunately, I don't know anything about earthquakes. There was a sandstorm a few weeks ago, but I suppose that isn't quite the same thing. Perhaps you'd like to take a look around the town, see if you can find anything useful. I'd be more than happy to give you the grand tour. No one knows this quaint and charming borough like I do!

Edited 2013-12-18 06:12 (UTC)

Oh, the handshake. Ooops. He at least, has the decency to look a bit chagrined about it and uncomfortable, even if the other man is acting like it's fine that he didn't take it. But the eyes... and the teeth... and he got him talking about science and...

All of the obvious things that could throw him about the man can, and do, but there's something under the surface about him, and the way he says "StrexCorp" and "mandatory". He does remember, of course, when the things Cecil said on the radio about the City Council and the Sheriff's Secret Police had made him uncomfortable. But he was more or less used to that kind of weird, now.

This seemed different.

This seemed different and if Cecil was the Voice of Night Vale, and he was only just starting to understand what, exactly, that entailed, it wasn't a huge leap to make it to this man being the Voice of Desert Bluffs and what that could mean... Well. Academically, it likely meant that he was in very, very deep trouble. Rationality, however, also tried to assert that that was stupid, that things out in the "real world" didn't work like they did in Night Vale. Even if there were men with black sclera eyes and too many teeth. The thought that there was anything strange about Desert Bluffs, and that it wasn't just that he had reached the edge of Night Vale's "weirdness bubble" as he'd taken to calling it, in his head but never in his notes, was just a hypothesis. And there was no way to test said hypothesis than to go deeper into Desert Bluffs.

Better to do it with a guide, right?

"That might be useful, actually. It'll be awhile before the machine is through taking readings anyway and I'm curious what's stopping the waves here-- whether it's the way the land is shaped or--" well, even if he has weird eyes, he's probably just a relatively normal guy, right? He seems nice enough, cheery and kind. Carlos isn't sure that he wants to try to explain Night Vale to him. He's pretty sure he'll sound crazy. (Sometimes, he wonders.) "-- some other reason. Seeing more of the town would help that. If you don't mind, that is?" he tries to smile, as winningly as he can manage and holds his own hand back out, with just the slightest twist of his mouth in apology for earlier, "I'm Carlos, by the way. Nice to meet you, Kevin."

A sandstorm. He remembers the sandstorm. He was even listening to the broadcast. But one of the other scientists had turned up with a double and chaos had broken out and he didn't really get a good chance to hear it. Still, he feels like there's something he's missing, something important, and that it's not a coincidence that the sandstorm has just come up, or that Kevin's eyes do even stranger things, at the mention of Night Vale.

It's too late to take his hand back now, though.

[ Carlos said that he was curious as to what stopped the earthquakes here and that seeing more of the town would help him figure it out. He grinned, with teeth as white and perfect as the bones inside your body, and everything about him was perfect, and I fell in love instantly... ]

[ Kevin has a firm (too hard) handshake, one he holds for longer than is necessary, and he swears in the seconds he holds Carlos's hands he can feel the blood flowing through the veins in his wrist. He's never felt such a perfect blood flow. He's never touched a hand so warm. ]

Of course I don't mind! I love this town and everyone in it! It's my pleasure to introduce you to all of the quirks and charms Desert Bluffs has to offer. I hope you like them as much as I do. I know they'll love you.

[ If Kevin had the eyes of a normal man, there might have been a gleam in them. A gleam that indicated that maybe those words were not as innocent as Kevin made them sound. But of course, there is no gleam in Kevin's strange eyes. And just like there is no gleam in his eyes, there is no hidden meaning in his words, no reason to be wary or afraid. Kevin is all that's there, with his strange eyes, his odd smile, his innocence. He only wants Carlos to love his town as much as he does, that's all.

He lets go of Carlos's warm hand. ]

Are you hungry? If you're looking to get to know the town, there's no better place to start than Little Gerry's. It's a town hot spot and their pasta is to die for!

[ Kevin grabs Carlos's arm, like a little kid meaning to drag their parents off to some carnival ride or to watch the very first public execution of the year. His grip is, again, tight (too tight), his sharp nails dig into Carlos's skin and he tugs. But Kevin remains cheerful. Maybe he doesn't realize that his grip is too tight, maybe he doesn't realize he's tugging so hard? That's probably it.

He only means to be kind, only means to be helpful. He would never purposefully cause any sort of harm! Certainly not to someone he's only just met who has been nothing but interesting and has done nothing to earn his ire. Kevin likes this newcomer far too much to ever want to purposefully cause him harm. He's just trying to be encouraging, he's just a little over excited, that's all. ]

He actually almost hears it, like an echo, the moment before Kevin takes his hand.

And I fell in love, instantly.

He remembered hearing it on the radio, and how ridiculous it had sounded. Scientifically impossible. And even if it were, it couldn't be him being talked about. He still wasn't sure, even now, he believed that Cecil had really fallen in love with him on the spot. But it's not until Kevin's hand is in his that he feels a flicker of unease at the memory, and by then, it's definitely far too late for him to take it back.

He can feel the bones in his hands shift unpleasantly under the grip, but it doesn't hurt, strictly speaking, just makes him overly aware that their hands are linked for several seconds longer than is actually appropriate, while he tries to convince himself that if he barely believes he's the kind of person one person falls for, he certainly isn't going to have it happen to him again.

(He also tries not to notice that the blood suddenly flowing back to his hand leaves it a bit more sensitive when Kevin pulls away, and that he's actively having to repress a shiver at the sensation.)

Everything, everything about Kevin sends off warning bells, but, aside from the eyes, Carlos can't figure out why, can't quantify what most other people would just call a gut feeling, and the monitor in his hand sits almost aggressively on what he's come to think of as "Normal". It's the first time he's seen it linger this long on that setting since he drove into Night Vale. It shouldn't make him more uncomfortable.

Still, he lets himself be dragged away, though he trips just a bit over his own feet at the tug, wincing at the bite of nails into his upper arm, though the lab coat protects him from the worst of it,

"Hey, ease up a bit, I'm coming, don't worry" he tries to make it sound lighthearted, manages a small grin and a laugh, and his fingers are just as warm as before when he pries at Kevin's on his arm. He doesn't want to offend his host, after all, just... get some feeling back in his arm, and not wear bruises on it.

[ Oh, listeners, Carlos laughed and it was like bells ringing in my ears, bells ringing in my ears and only meant for me to hear. I tell you listeners, I can't wait to spend more time with this new scientist of ours! I'm sure Night Vale is a lovely town, but how could Carlos ever want to leave after seeing all Desert Bluffs has to offer? Yes, I'm sure I will get to spend much more time with Carlos! I'm sure he will stay! I'm sure he will be a true Desert Bluffs citizen in no time...

One thing Carlos will learn about Kevin the longer stays in Desert Bluffs is that it's very hard to offend the radio host. It could be a naive belief that people don't mean any harm, even when their words are meant to be harsh and biting, but that's not it. That's not quite it. Words like "monster" and "grotesque" sound like "angel" and "beautiful" to him and it's not that he doesn't understand the words... just that he genuinely sees those things as good. The longer Carlos stays in Desert Bluffs, the more he'll see that that's just the way things are here. And maybe, if he's here long enough, the more he'll agree with that way of thinking.

But what does any of that matter? Carlos has only been here for a few hours at most, still not long enough for Desert Bluffs to sink it's teeth into the scientist and make him one if its own. So Kevin does not treat him the same way he would a citizen of Desert Bluffs. He looks sufficiently sorry as his grip softens, arms still wrapped around Carlos's arm, but not in a way that will leave bruises, not hard enough for his too sharp nails to dig into his skin. ]

Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you. Guess I don't know my own strength, huh?

[ He laughs. No harm, no foul, right? Because there's no harm in a little blood, a few bruises, right? Not in Desert Bluffs. In Desert Bluffs those seem like completely normal things, things to enjoy and take pride in. Carlos will learn. The longer he's here, he will learn, and the longer he spends with Kevin, especially, because who has more influence over the town and the people in it than the town's voice? And Kevin has every intention of spending as much time as possible with Carlos, has every intention of making Carlos a true Desert Bluffs citizen who understands that those things are good and a grip like that is one to take pleasure in, not pain. ]

Look! There's Little Gerry's just down the road! I can't wait for you to meet everyone. Maybe Grandma Josephine will be there! She makes the best cupcakes. You just have to try one before you leave!

[ Kevin walks a little faster, still pulling Carlos along, but with a grip that remains much softer than the initial one. His excitement is nearly palpable (though not literally, not today) and nearly inhuman. Who gets this excited about taking a stranger to meet the people of the town? Kevin's cheerfulness should probably be off putting, but there's something so innocent about it. How could anyone be put off by his abnormal happiness? ]

"No, it's fine," he smiles again, not because he finds anything particularly humorous about Kevin leaving bruises on his arm, but because Kevin is just... the kind of person that you smile at, isn't he? It's hard not to smile at him; his enthusiasm is positively infectious.

He tries not to think very hard about that, considering he has passed the point where he could reasonably just turn and run away.

The meter is still silent in his hand, so he puts it in his pocket for now, looking around as they walk. The streets are, perhaps unsurprisingly, just like Night Vale's but absolutely backwards, every left is a right and right is a left. He stumbles a bit, again, as he's pulled along faster down the road, but manages to keep his feet, getting swept along towards the restaurant.

"Grandma Josephine?" he manages to question, and he definitely isn't wondering if she's connected to Old Woman Josie in some way and, if she is, what manner of creature changes the lightbulbs in her house. Nope. Not thinking about those things at all. Just going to have some pizza (do they put extra wheat and wheat by-products in them, here?) and get the hell out of here, because the more he sees of how this place mirrors Night Vale, the more he thinks he prefers the devil he knows to the devil he doesn't.

He does, at least, try to remind himself that he thought Cecil was weird at first too, and unsettling, and he turned out to be something not dangerous or horrible at all, but something else underneath. So, maybe, this place wouldn't be so bad. But then, Night Vale also seemed to find ways to protect him from the more fatal of it's weirdnesses. He couldn't really count on Desert Bluffs to do the same.

"I'll be happy to try a cupcake," he adds, with a smile. If he can get through a holiday with his family with a smile on his face, he can certainly at least attempt to fake it through his unease... no, concern about this place.

[ Unfortunately, Grandma Josephine was not at Little Gerry's, but that's okay! That just means Carlos has to stay longer, right? Of course it does! He did promise to try one of her cupcakes, after all. Speaking of cupcakes, I think my favorite has to be red velvet! I know red velvet is just supposed to be chocolate dyed with blood, but there's just something about it that makes me so happy to bite into one of those delicious little cakes... ]

Yes, Grandma Josephine! I'm not sure whose grandmother she actually is, but she is everything anyone could want in a grandma! I suppose she's everyone's grandma, in a way! She takes such good care of us here in Desert Bluffs, always checking in on us, providing us with delicious baked goods, and planting lovely flowers in our yards. I don't know where we would be without her!

[ He says nothing about angels or demons or anything of the sort. He doesn't mention any possible connections with anyone from Night Vale or any place else out of town, but that's not abnormal, is it? Of course not! Grandma Josephine is just a simple old woman who has always been from Desert Bluffs, will always be from Desert Bluffs. Why would she have connections to anyone from a town that isn't Desert Bluffs? As for angels and demons, well, that's classified information. Angels and demons are only to be discussed with StrexCorp agents and why would anyone ever want to go against StrexCorp policies? ]

Here we are!

[ Kevin releases his hold on Carlos's arm for just a moment to push the door open, resumes holding it once they're both through the doorway. His grip remains light, this time. He's learned his lesson for now. They don't know each other well enough to be leaving bruises and cuts on each other. That will have to be something to be saved for when they become real friends, maybe more.

A few of the restaurant's occupants turn and smile with smiles that are also too sharp and too wide in the same way Kevin's is. They wave with hands that have nails that are also far too sharp. But this is all normal. This is how people are! Nothing wrong with a little sharpness here and there.

Kevin leads Carlos to a few of these people, gives brief introductions, but doesn't linger on any one person for too long. He looks around at the tiny yet charming place in the hopes that Grandma Josephine will be here, but when Kevin can't find her his smile slips and he looks unbelievably disappointed. It's a strange look for Kevin - it doesn't seem to be a look that fits him. He's the sort of person that thrives on a constant state of happiness and for him to be upset just isn't right for him. ]

How disappointing. Grandma Josephine doesn't seem to be here today...

[ Silence falls over him for a moment. Disappointment is such an unpleasant feeling. But then he looks to Carlos again and he can feel his heart swell and the disappointment melt away. It's okay that Grandma Josephine isn't here! He still has his perfect visitor and what could be better than that? He leads them to a booth, motions for Carlos to sit in the seat across from the one Kevin is currently settling down in. ]

Come, sit! You must be hungry after traveling all the way over here from Night Vale. Let's get something to eat! You don't have to worry about money, I'll pay for everything!

Carlos must seem, then, like someone who has had all his sharp edges filed away. His nails aren't pointed, his smile is the normal Non-Desert Bluffs size and shape, and while he does, at least, make something of an effort to stay healthy and exercise (and he's done a lot more running since coming to Night Vale, as well), he's carrying a bit of extra weight here and there from too much Starbucks and too long sitting in a desk chair. The only thing particularly sharp about him is his mind, but even that has a tendency to go running in a million directions, taking in everything for further analysis, and leaves him a bit lacking in conversation a lot of the times.

He definitely notices how all of the other people here look, but what he's not sure on is what to do about it. Everyone seems to regard Kevin as utterly normal, and he them. No one looks unhappy, or like they're being forced to smile or anything, from what he can tell. In fact, not seeing at least a little existential panic on someone's face is a little strange to him, now, after so long in Night Vale.

"Hey, it's okay," it's actually less disconcerting, suddenly, to look at Kevin, who at least looks more like the kind of strange he's been growing used to. Maybe that makes him focus just a little more than is good for his own health at his eyes, but strange, right now, that kind of strange, is oddly comforting, "It would be kind of odd for her to just be here and have cupcakes, wouldn't it? Maybe we can find her afterwards?" Kevin looking disappointed just looks... wrong. It makes him look too much like Cecil, somehow. Not that he's confusing the two! Kevin looks enough like himself that he couldn't mistake him, certainly, but there's definitely a little bit of spillover from how he feels about Cecil, since they're clearly related somehow, even though he's not actually sure he wants to know how. He slides into the seat across from him, when indicated and attempts a protest,

"Thank you, but you don't have to do that," he has a feeling he's going to anyway, but he can at least protest, politely. He feels like he can feel the entire restaurant watching them, but he's afraid to look outside their booth to confirm whether it's true or not. Cecil still sometimes refers to him as the town's "Favorite Outsider" on the air, when he's distracted, and while the people have stopped staring at him in Big Rico's, and the other places he frequents, places in town he travels less often still see people examining him like he's examined the town.

[ Sitting there, in that booth, across from Carlos was simply magical, listeners, like a scene straight out of a dream! Now, I know it's far too early to consider that a date, but oh! How I wish it was one!Sitting there, looking at Carlos, my heart would not stop pounding in my chest. Like the pounding of drums, like the pounding of fists against the pavement as we all curse gravity for keeping us trapped on the cold, hard ground...

Oh, Carlos doesn't have to worry about anyone finding his lack of points and sharp edges to be strange in any way. No one ever has their teeth and nails when they first come to Desert Bluffs. It's when they've given in to the city's influence and made a home in the Bluffs that they acquire them. Some don't fully get them until they've been here for years, for others it's only a matter of hours. Carlos might even be able to find someone else who's relatively blunt if he looks hard enough.

And they're probably not all looking at him. Probably. Kevin's eyes are too focused on Carlos to notice if anyone else is looking at them, but if anyone is making Carlos uncomfortable, Kevin would be more than happy to take care of that. He'd hate for this perfect visitor of theirs to be made uncomfortable! That would just make him want to leave and they can't have that! But Kevin doesn't say so. That would be much too forward of him. Instead, he continues to smile at Carlos, shaking his head at the protest. ]

Don't think anything of it! I am more than happy to pay for you! I am the one who brought you here, after all. What do you think you're going to get? Personally, the lasagna is my favorite. Oh, but the potato gnocchi are almost magical they're so good!

[ But, really, it doesn't matter what Carlos gets. Everything on the menu is simply wonderful! He's never met a person who has disliked the food here. In fact, many people made the decision to stay in Desert Bluffs just based on the food! Maybe it's something in the sauce. The sauce is truly one of the best things about it. The sauce is different from any other sauce. Oh, it's not blood, of course! Not all of the sauce is even red! The Alfredo sauce certainly isn't red. That would be unsanitary, unhealthy! But there is something off about the sauce, completely unnoticeable if you aren't looking for it. ]

Let the record show that, in the end, the most dangerous thing about Night Vale ended up being it's lack of wheat and wheat by-products.

Many things that are gluten-free work out just fine in the end. Baked goods. Pizza crusts. Even some denser quickbreads, all perfectly fine with coconut or almond flour, or other alternatives. But gluten and wheat free pasta is, in Carlos's humble opinion, disgusting, and the thought of getting to eat lasagna, a real lasagna, with real pasta layers, is a siren's song he doesn't stand a chance against, even if he was determined to stay suspicious of the food.

"Lasagna sounds amazing, actually," he can't help but grin at the thought, particularly if the lasagna here is good, though... "It's, ah, it's not gluten-free out here, is it?" he adds, a moment later, frowning just slightly. He'd understand if it was, of course, since there are clear similarities between the two towns, but he's really hoping it's not.

He's hoping hard enough, in fact, that he completely misses anything potentially off about the way Kevin says that the gnocchi are "magical", and he's definitely not going to be noticing anything strange about the sauce. Or that the indicator on the meter in his pocket will vibrate aggressively on "normal" when it's served, either.

[ Can you imagine, listeners? A town where there's no wheat or wheat by products to be found? I can't believe it. The people of Night Vale are truly to be admired if they are able to stand only ever eating gluten free pasta and other gluten free products. Personally, I don't think I could survive. I just love my bread and wheat by-products too much to give them up. I suppose that's just one more thing to admire about Carlos... ]

[ It feels like Kevin's heart is attempting to beat right out of his chest when Carlos grins like that. He has never, in all his years, seen a smile quite that beautiful, quite that perfect. He swallows down the feeling. Silently, Kevin thanks the smiling god their town is required to believe in that he just checked to make sure his heart is in correct working order yesterday. If he hadn't he would be worried that his heart is genuinely trying to make its way out of his body, but no. His heart is fine. It's Carlos that's causing this erratic behavior.

So he ignores that as best he can. He can give his heart a good scolding once he's alone and not trying to impress his perfect and lovely companion. Kevin's smile remains in place, but it shifts slightly. He hopes it's reassuring, possibly letting Carlos know how happy Carlos's happiness over the thought of lasagna makes him. And maybe there's something else there, something else that doesn't fit into either of those categories. Kevin doesn't notice this other thing, probably. He wants nothing more than to make Carlos feel comfortable here. He would never add anything threatening or foreboding into his smile on purpose. ]

Oh, no! I'm sure you can get it gluten free if you would like, but Gerry tries to make his pasta as gluten filled as possible! [ And for a second Kevin pauses, smile slipping just a bit as he registers what he just said. That's not quite right. ] That isn't to say he adds extra wheat. I don't even think the pasta would cook right if he did that, but he certainly doesn't leave any out.

[ His smile slips back onto his face (not that it ever completely left). Hopefully Carlos is still excited for the lasagna even if Kevin clearly has no idea what he's talking about beyond knowing that yes, there is, in fact, some amount of wheat in the pasta. It's probably best to just move on from that. He waves over a waitress who comes over, smile just as wide and bright (and maybe slightly menacing) as everyone else's. She waits expectantly, though not impatiently. Kevin hands her his menu. ]

I'll have the gnocchi.

He laughs again, at Kevin's sort of fumbling around for the right words. The whole thing reminds him of Cecil, and that ought to be alarming, shouldn't it? If he had a moment to think about it, really think, he'd realize he was entirely too complacent about this town already. This man who looked so much like the man he supposed was now his boyfriend (did two dates and some coffee make someone your boyfriend? They certainly hadn't used that word yet. Was he being too presumptuous?) ought to have set him on edge with his familiarness, like an uncanny valley between Kevin and Cecil, uncomfortable in it's closeness to the real thing. Repulsive.

Instead, it was kind of relaxing, actually, as though they'd known each other a lot longer than they had. Maybe it was just that he talked with the same kind of cadence as Cecil, if not at all his voice or tone, and Carlos had never been good at talking with people, but he was trying with Cecil, at least, and some of that transferred? He wasn't sure. He wasn't thinking about it.

He should have been thinking about it.

But he isn't, and he laughs, instead, easily, as though easy laughter were something that came out of him often (it wasn't), because he's pretty sure Kevin doesn't know what in the hell gluten even is, and he's still falling all over himself to assure him that the pasta has lots and it's... well, it's cute. It's cute in a way that's completely at odds with the eyes and the teeth, and he can feel himself relaxing even more, even while he sort of half-heartedly tries to stay on his guard, remembering his first impressions of this place, and of Kevin.

It's easier to remember those when the waitress smiles, emptily or maybe just too fiercely at them, and he quiets slightly, inside and out, though he still can't help the grin,

"I'll take the lasagna, please. I've been told it's delicious," to die for was what was about to say, but then, a sort of a chill sweeps over him, instead, and he finishes differently, though he still manages to keep the grin when he indicates Kevin, vaguely, as the source of that impression. Yeah. Okay. This is getting a little weird, he finally notices, and it only gets weirder when he realizes how much he hasn't noticed it.

Grinning this much at a stranger? Flirting with a waitress (or was he flirting with Kevin? He's not even actually sure)? Talking without so much as a brush of social anxiety or stumbling over his words or anything? It wasn't as though he wasn't capable of making small talk or not just coming apart in a social situation, but he wasn't usually this... relaxed, or poised about it. This didn't seem like him, not really. And yet, it's kind of... well, it's kind of nice, isn't it? To talk with someone he barely knows and to not feel like every word coming out of his mouth is the wrong one. Weird, sure, but not necessarily a bad kind of weird...

[ Oh, listeners, when I say that I have never seen such a beautiful smile I mean it. Carlos's smile is unlike any other. Carlos's smile is perfect. And for him to smile so much, listeners, oh! It was absolutely delightful! So few visitors ever feel so comfortable in a new place, but Carlos is one of those few. Truly this must mean he is destined to stay here. How could it mean anything else? I refuse to believe that there is any where else in the world that could make Carlos feel as at home as we do here in Desert Bluffs. Even the presumably beautiful Night Vale can't be better for Carlos than Desert Bluffs. ]

[ Kevin hopes Carlos isn't flirting with the waitress. It's not so much a conscious hope so much as it is one that's just there and present in the back of his mind, but the hope is there nonetheless. Carlos is just so beautiful and smart and perfect that the hope that Carlos's attention and flirtations are solely on him can't help but to come up, even if it is just in the back of his mind. It would be easily fixable if Carlos were flirting with the waitress, of course. She is one of the better waitresses here, but it wouldn't be so unusual if she were to disappear. It would hardly even be noticed. But Kevin would prefer if things didn't have to come to that. So in the back of his mind, where he's actually thinking about flirting and not flirting, Kevin convinces himself that if Carlos is flirting with anyone at all, he's flirting with Kevin.

His heart flutters even harder, his smile grows even wider, and the urge to take Carlos's hand again grows even stronger. He doesn't think he's ever felt this much before. Carlos truly is a special person. He wants to get to know every part of Carlos. He wants to know how his mind works, wants to know all of his little quirks and oddities, wants to know every inch of Carlos's skin and every inch of Carlos's insides. He wants Carlos to know all of those parts of him, too. He wants them to know everything about each other. He hopes Carlos wants all of those things, too.

But those are thoughts that happen somewhere in his mind that isn't immediately at the forefront. At the forefront of his mind are still thoughts of Carlos, but thoughts of how comfortable he seems here. It's always heartwarming when outsiders seem to feel so comfortable here so quickly. Too many can't handle Desert Bluffs. Kevin has witnessed many outsiders lose their nerve, or their mind, sometimes it's hard to tell which, but not Carlos. Carlos hasn't been here a full day yet and he already seems to be settling in so, so nicely with his beautiful smile and beautiful voice and beautiful hair. He's not like those other visitors who aren't good enough for their town. Carlos is perfect for Desert Bluffs, Carlos belongs here. His apparent comfort is proof of that. ]

You have a beautiful smile. [ The words come out of Kevin's mouth without him really meaning for them to, but he doesn't backtrack or even blush. He may not have meant to say the words, but he truly does mean them now that he has. Carlos should know that. It's not like trying to pretend Kevin has an honest understanding of gluten and its place in pasta, this is something Kevin is absolutely certain of. ] I've never seen a smile quite as wonderful as yours.

[ Is that too forward? Kevin isn't sure. He still means it, doesn't regret saying it. ]

Are you going to need a place to stay? Important science like yours must take a long time to complete! I can help you find a place to stay if you need it.

[ What Kevin really wants to say is "you can stay with me, if you'd like," but that is definitely too forward. They barely know each other! But that's okay. Eventually Carlos will be willing to stay with him. He has to be. Kevin won't allow anything else. For now Kevin will just help him find a place, maybe pay for a hotel room for Carlos. Possibly the hotel near the radio station so that they can easily see each other every day. ]

Clearly there is something about him that towns just sort of like. In less horrible, horrifying, possibly-sentient ones, it's always manifested as just happening upon little hidden bakeries or interesting shops, coming upon vistas right as the sun touched them in certain ways or avoiding dangers he didn't know existed, like cab drivers who took the long way around or timeshare salesmen in lobbies of otherwise perfectly lovely resorts. Not that he'd ever noticed, of course; he just thought that all travel was like that: simple, easy, painless.

Towns in this desert, clearly, were different, and here, he is steered more strongly towards strange eyes and stranger teeth and places where the very laws of nature bent and twisted. Even so, though, he has never had his travels turn unpleasant, and so he is a type of comfortable in new places that few people are. He likes it better, actually- if he screws up, in a place far from home, no one will notice, and he will not feel a spike of embarrassment every time he passes that particular Einstein's Bagels or DSW, remnants of conversations he would like to forget, but that haunt him at 3am anyway.

He blinks, shocked expression overtaking his grin for a moment, and flushes, gaping like a fish for a moment before he grins again, more shyly, sliding one hand up behind his neck and looking down into the glass of water that he was unconsciously toying with, to have something to do with his hands.

"I... uh... thanks," no one's ever complimented him much, prior to coming to Night Vale, and he's not used to it. It's not that anyone's ever said much negative about him, either, he's just not used to being in any way remarkable. He was, inevitably, always the runner up, exemplary in all areas, but never enough to actually be noticed, forever in the shadow of someone just a little smarter than him, a little more interesting, a little less awkward. Take your pick, he'd heard all of them. So being told otherwise by not one, but two attractive men, and in so short a timespan relative to the rest of his life, and to have that backed up by how everyone in Night Vale tended to treat him... he was accepting it as a thing that happened to him, now, but it was still surprising, still novel.

"Oh no no, I shouldn't need anywhere to stay," he shakes his head, holding up a hand in a forestalling sort of gesture, "It's just a day trip out here, to get those readings before I head back. I don't even have a change of clothes or anything. Once I collect some other readings, though, I'm sure I'll be back," the words are out of his mouth before he knows he's going to say them, but they ring true in the air, now that they're spoken. He looks around the restaurant, but is clearly indicating the town entire, "It's a much nicer place than I was expecting. I'm... honestly not sure why I avoided it for so long," he laughs a little at the end of that, slightly nervously, as though realizing he's always had a phone, and how silly of him to think otherwise.

Hahaha.

No reason at all to avoid Desert Bluffs, really.

Of course, once he's actually had that lasagna, there's a good chance he'll change his mind about leaving as well. Wasn't that how the stories worked? You weren't bound to a place until you had tried it's food...

"How long have you lived here?" he says, instead of thinking too hard about that, trying to make small talk, even though he's never been terribly good at it.

[ Can you believe that, listeners! He was talking about leaving! He even said he avoided us at one point! Now, we just can't have that, can we? I don't know what kind of place this Night Vale actually is, but if it's going to influence Carlos to leave and avoid us, I don't think I want to let Carlos go back there for even a second. No siree! Any place that would do that is not a place deserving of such a perfect citizen! Something must be done about this. We must keep Carlos here... ]

[ For a second, just a second Kevin's smile slips ever so slightly with something that is surely not sadness or embarrassment, but rather more like anger. It's a subtle sort of anger, one that would be easy to miss if one weren't looking for it, especially with the way the rest of Kevin's smile is still firmly in place. Carlos is so perfect. Carlos is sitting right across from, sitting just right there where Kevin could easily move to the other side of the table and feel the warmth of skin against skin, feel the rush of blood underneath that warm and beautiful skin. Carlos is perfect and sitting there and talking about avoiding Desert Bluffs. It's unacceptable. Kevin just can't let Carlos go back to a place that will make him want to avoid Desert Bluffs.

His smile fixes itself easily, all traces of anger that were present for that brief second gone, never to be seen again assuming it was even seen to begin with. Getting angry would do no one any good. Kevin will just have to take extra measures to ensure that Carlos won't leave. The food will help. The food will help a lot. How can he get angry over Carlos's decision to leave and possibly decide to avoid Desert Bluffs again when Carlos hasn't even eaten yet? It just doesn't make any sense. Now, if he's still talking about leaving after he's eaten... Well, Kevin will just have to have a talk with Gerry about how he makes his food. He can't just go changing recipes on people without warning. It's just not right! But that's not a concern, not yet. Not until Carlos has eaten. ]

Oh, I would be more than happy to lend you something of mine to wear if that's all that's keeping you from staying! I'd even be willing to buy you a brand new outfit, if you'd like! Doing important science things like that must be so tiring! You should rest for the night when you're done taking your readings.

[ He ducks his head down to take a quick sip of water, but his eyes don't leave Carlos, not for a second. Now he has reason to fear that the moment he looks away Carlos might disappear and he can't have that, now can he? He needs to ensure that Carlos never leaves. Not until he's become a proper citizen of Desert Bluffs. ]

I've been here my entire life. Most people prefer to move away from their childhood home, but I really can't imagine any place I'd like to live more than Desert Bluffs. Have you always lived in Night Vale?

He catches that flash in Kevin's eyes, and a chill runs down his spine. He thinks, for the first time since he came into the restaurant, that maybe he ought to check the meter on the device he'd brought with him,

"I... can't, really, but thank you," his voice is gracious, but he's starting to get just a little bit of that probably-about-to-do-something-foolish-like-think-about-running look around his eyes. It's too forward, and he's becoming all too aware of how people in the restaurant are kind of staring and whispering, and sure, they do that in Night Vale, too, but it's different and he's suddenly aware of how different.

The mission goes absolutely critical in the few moments between that and Kevin answering the question about his childhood, and it's clear that Carlos is seriously considering babbling excuses and leaving, working the conversation around to that, trying, at least, to still be polite,

"Night Vale? No, no I've only been there a little more than a year," he actually only knows that because Cecil is keeping track, not him, "It's, ah, the most scientifically interesting-- you know, I really probably should--" oh, the waitress probably goes from possibly-going-to-never-be-seen-again to absolute-goddess, because she comes just then with the piles of food, and really, surely he can wait until he's at least tried a bite, it's right here, after all.

"-- wow that smells amazing..." and it's been so long since he's had real pasta. "I really can't stay, though. My home's in Night Vale," and wow, doesn't that feel weird to say, but it's the truth.

Well, it's the truth until he takes that first bit of lasagna anyway. Which he does, and then blinks slightly and takes another,

"This is... really good. What's the spice in this, do you know?"

[Listeners, don't you just love when things go your way? Honestly, I can't think of anything more satisfying than the feeling of everything falling exactly into the place you set for it.]

[ Carlos says that Night Vale is his home and the irritation that had been growing with every word out of Carlos's mouth grows exponentially. He can't remember a time when he's felt this angry! How dare he talk about how he really should be leaving and how Night Vale is the most scientifically interesting and how Night Vale is home. How dare he! Can't he see how much Desert Bluffs wants him to stay. Visitors aren't often allowed to live this long. Carlos is truly special to have made it all the way to Little Gerry's without a scratch on him! It's not right! It's just not right!

But it's okay, Kevin has to tell himself. It's okay. The food is here and Carlos is going to eat it and then he'll want to stay forever! He may even be more open to the idea of staying with Kevin specifically.

If Kevin were a normal man from Normalville, Pensylvannia, he probably could not tell Carlos what the real spices in the lasagna are. He could tell Carlos the ingredient that alters the consumer's way of thinking about Desert Bluffs, but as for whether or not Gerry uses oregano or garlic (Kevin assumes he at least uses garlic - it is Italian food, after all) Kevin knows about as much as he does about the gluten. ]

I have no idea. [ Kevin shrugs, smile turning a little sheepish, and takes a bite of his own food. ] I'm sorry. Gerry likes to keep his recipes a secret, especially from me. He worries that I'll end up spilling all of his secrets on air without even meaning to because I get so excited! I suppose those worries aren't completely unfounded. I have been known to speak a little too much about things better kept off air every now and then.

[ A little spark of pride lights itself in Kevin's chest when he doesn't make a fool of himself the way he did with the gluten. Okay, so he couldn't actually answer Carlos's question and the response he did give was actually sort of a lie (Gerry has no secret recipes, but it wouldn't be good if Carlos found out about the mind altering chemical), but not making a fool of himself is still extremely satisfying. And the more Carlos eat, the more Kevin's confidence grows. He reaches across the table to rest his hand on Carlos's, a friendly gesture, really, and smiles warmly (terrifyingly) at Carlos again. ]

Are you certain you have to leave?

[ He doesn't explain his reasoning for asking again, doesn't try to push Carlos to say yes with claims that the science must make him so tired and it would be such a shame for Carlos to leave so soon. Kevin shouldn't need to push, not now. Even if Carlos isn't thinking about living here for good yet, he's had enough that he should be thinking about staying just one night. ]

He laughs at that, and the sheepish look on his face, and feels himself relax a little. Really, there wasn't anything to be so worried about. He must have imagined that look on his face before. He took another bite of the lasagna, chewed thoughtfully. Then again, maybe he didn't imagine it, after all, but there wasn't really anything wrong with that, was there? After all, he had been denying his hospitality. Here Kevin was trying to make him feel welcome here, and going above and beyond, at that, and he'd been pretty rude in return, hadn't he? He offers a sheepish smile of his own, taking another bite,

"Sounds like someone else I know," and if that fondness isn't wholly for Kevin, it's not actually wholly for someone else, either. "Hey. Uh. Sorry if I came off harsh a minute ago. You've been really nice to me, just, where I come from you don't really just offer people your clothes when you barely even know them. It caught me offguard and I didn't... I'm not..." he flounders a bit, makes an ineffectual gesture with his hands, feeling horribly awkward. And then Kevin's hand comes down over his and he calms, almost instantly, with the question.

"Well," he finds himself returning the smile (which is really not terrifying at all), "if you didn't mind showing me more around town after this, I suppose I could get a few more readings, and head back in the morning."

True, it's not as fast as the chemicals have worked on people in the past, but he apparently has something pretty strong holding him somewhere else. And he's gone from about to bolt to being more than happy to wander around for the rest of the day, and with Kevin, specifically.

And he's really only about five little bites into his dinner, to boot.

[ The food must not be working fast enough, Kevin thinks, if Carlos can still muster such fondness for someone outside of Desert Bluffs. It's irritating, maddening. Jealousy bubbles up in his stomach and Kevin has to quickly take a bite of his gnocchi before he can let that jealousy show. The process of allowing Desert Bluffs to sink it's teeth into a person whether it's through food or simply the passage of time is a delicate process and the idea of doing anything to muck it up out of some misplaced jealousy is not an idea that Kevin can handle. Carlos will be his soon enough, of that Kevin is absolutely certain. For all of the jealousy he feels towards this "someone else", Kevin doesn't miss the fondness that's directed right at him. It's enough to keep him satisfied for now. Just more proof that he'll get what he wants in the end.

And maybe the chemicals are actually working even faster than he'd previously thought, given Carlos's sudden change of heart. Most people are farther along in the process of wanting to stay here for good by this point, but most people weren't just talking about leaving five seconds before they started eating. Either way, Carlos's willingness to stay even for a night (for now) is a good sigh. A very good sign. Who knows how he'll feel by the end of the meal? ]

Of course I'd be more than happy to show you around some more, silly! I already told you it's my pleasure to introduce you to all of the quirks and charms Desert Bluffs has to offer. We've barely seen anything yet! [ Kevin strokes his thumb slowly back and forth against the skin of Carlos's hand - still just a friendly gesture, of course. The feeling of victory that wells up in his chest is maybe a little premature, Carlos is still talking about leaving eventually, but it's there and it's presence only makes Kevin's bigger, happier (sharper, more menacing) than it has been all night. ] The station is nearby, we can go there next when you finish! The station is like a second home to me. I think you'll really like it!

[ And what better place to take Carlos than the place where the city -and Kevin's - influence is the greatest? The food does wonders, to be sure, but nothing works quite like the job site of the Voice of Desert Bluffs. ]

It's a little weird, feeling him trace the same skin on his hand over and over, entirely too intimate, really, covetous. But, really, pulling away would just make him sad, he thinks, and be a hassle and it's a lot nicer to just sit here and let him do something basically harmless and eat his lasagna. He has this weird feeling there's something he's forgetting, some other reason that he should be wary of someone who looks and acts like Cecil being this friendly to him all at once, in a place like this. But he can't quite place it, or figure out what the problem is. Cecil likes him (...and I fell in love instantly...) so it makes sense that Kevin would too, right?

Seven bites into lunch and there's nothing that rings alarm bells in Kevin's smile at all, anymore, even as it's slowly growing sharklike to the point that it's barely even human anymore.

"There won't be a problem with that? Going to the station, I mean?" he'd actually be interested in doing that even without the chemicals, "If you don't mind me running some tests, I think it would make for some excellent data. But I wouldn't want to upset anything there, if there are other broadcasts going or anything. Are there any other places in town you'd consider interesting?"

Oh no, you have nothing to worry about! There will be other broadcasts going on, but we shouldn't have to disturb them. You can run all the tests you want on my booth! There shouldn't be anyone in there when I'm not working. It's my booth. No one is allowed in my booth without my permission.

[ Kevin's voice goes dark when he talks about his booth, not quite threatening, or maybe just on the cusp of it. His smile changes ever so slightly, his black eyes shine in a way that is decidedly off - insane. It's at odds with the slow, gentle movement of his thumb on Carlos's skin. But that's okay, right? Surely Carlos can understand why the idea of someone being in there without his permission would set him off like this. How would he feel if someone entered his lab without permission? Kevin's booth is his work place, his home. His booth is a more intimate place for him than his own bedroom.

And then, in an instant, the insanity is gone and Kevin is back to his usual cheerful self. It's a sudden enough change that anyone not used to it or not expecting it could very well be hit with a case of mood whiplash, but maybe it doesn't bother Carlos. Mind altering drugs can make people okay with the strangest things. ]

No matter, I'm sure no one will be in there! Everyone knows better than that.

[ Kevin leans back in his seat as he considers Carlos's next question. He takes his hand back without really meaning to do it, bringing it up to scratch at the back of his head as he thinks about all the other places he could bring Carlos. ]

The dog park is just lovely this time of year! I would certainly consider stopping by for a visit before you leave! [ If you leave, Kevin adds in his head. If you leave. ] I would dearly love for you to meet Grandma Josephine, as well, but I'm not sure if we'll have the opportunity to see her today.

[ He fails to sound as disappointed about that as his words suggest he should. Carlos will stay. Carlos has to stay. Kevin will not let Carlos leave. Carlos will meet Grandma Josephine and he will love Kevin. He has to.

Kevin's grin continues to grow. ]

Even through the steadily dwindling plate of lasagna, there's something off about the way Kevin says that it's his booth and no one would be in there without his permission. Ten Minutes Ago Carlos, Pre-Lasagna Carlos, would have just bolted at that, and screw being rude or not. Current Carlos, however, just shudders once, and part of it is a knee-jerk, involuntary reaction to the smallest glimpse of primal terror, all hindbrain, and part of it is what the stroke of his fingers against the skin of his hand do, combined with the sudden, almost angry possession in his voice.

And then,

"Dog... Park? You have a functioning Dog Park?" he knows, knows that's a weird question to ask because of course they have a functioning Dog Park. Most cities do. Most cities don't have strange hooded figures and places no one is allowed to be. Night Vale was...

Night Vale was weird, wasn't it? Crazy, kind of. Any sane, safe place on this earth would have a Dog Park.

"I'd love to see the dog park," it's easier to let the capital letters in his voice go than he thought it would be, and more of a relief than he was expecting. Maybe Night Vale was getting to him a bit. Maybe a little vacation wouldn't hurt, actually. He was losing touch with reality. It might be skewing his data points. He takes another bite of his dinner, "Maybe another time," he says with a gentle smile, of meeting Grandma Josephine "If all of your food here is as good as this, I definitely want to try the cupcakes. But I'm the most interested in your studio."

[ That shudder of Carlos's should probably not please Kevin quite as much as it does. It shouldn't bring him pleasure to know that he can frighten this beautiful Outsider with no effort at all. It does, though. It really, really does. Kevin genuinely loves him so much already, but there's just something about being able to strike that kind of visible fear in Carlos while still capturing his attention so fully that is unbelievably satisfying. Carlos isn't leaving. Carlos is already so far gone that he caught a glimpse of Kevin like that and he still wants to see his studio and Kevin thinks that this fact alone is enough to make him fall even more in love.

The more Carlos says about Night Vale, the more Kevin comes to believe that it truly is an awful place to live. No wheat? No dog park? What do they have? He raises his eyebrows slightly, smile slipping in favor of a more inquisitive expression. ]

Does Night Vale not have a functioning dog park? That sounds absolutely dreadful! What do you do with your pets? Certainly you can't keep them cooped up inside all day! That just isn't fair to the animals!

[ Of course, Kevin does not mention the bones and entrails that litter the ground and trees of the dog park and why would he? A dog park without those things would be just as strange as a non-functioning one! That is how animals get their daily intake of fresh meat, after all. What would they possibly do without that available to them? And that's to say nothing of their decorative value. There's not a place in existence that looks complete without a touch of blood and viscera. Kevin pointedly does not mention this about his studio, either.For all of its obvious decorative value to a Desert Bluffs native, an Outsider who's only beginning to give in to the chemicals and influence of the town may not be ready to hear about that. Best to wait until Carlos has finished his dinner, until they've gotten farther into the city and Desert Bluff's influence has really begun to set in to mention that.

As always, Kevin's smile returns right away. ]

Her cupcakes are even better than the food here! As good as Little Gerry's is, nothing beats Grandma Josephine's baking. I'm sure you'll love them! I'm sure you'll love her, too. I've never met anyone who didn't think of her as their own grandmother.

[ Kevin rests his cheek in his hand, looking at Carlos with all the fondness that certainly is not appropriate for the amount of time they've known each other. "Another time" is not the answer Kevin wanted, but it will do, even with that "maybe" attached to it. It implies that they'll be together again whenever they part for the day.

He watches Carlos chew, admires the line of his jaw, how strong it is, and how utterly fitting it is for someone as perfect as Carlos. Even Carlos's chewing is perfect! He is an absolute gift from whatever smiling god it is that watches over them. ]

I'm glad you like your food so much. Would you like to try some of mine? I had a big lunch and I would hate for this go to to waste!

[ He pushes his plate towards Carlos, hardly worried about a lack of drugs in his own food. They are there, Kevin is well aware of that; they just don't effect him. They are made from his own body and blood, after all - from the body and blood of all Desert Bluffs natives. It's a neat little trick StrexCorp came up with to take "you are what you eat" to an all new level. Ingest little bits of the people born to this town and you'll become just like one of them. ]

"You know... I don't even actually know what people do with their pets if they don't have a backyard," he admits, sheepishly, "I've never had pets. Never really wanted any," he adds, before Kevin can... offer him a chihuahua or something. He lets the whole thing go, though, if Kevin does. Now that he's brought it up, he's a lot more interested in seeing his studio, particularly after the readings he'd gotten in Cecil's.

"I've never much cared for gnocchi, but... I suppose a little bite wouldn't hurt. The lasagna's so good, after all," he does try a little bite, cautious of the food, but not of doing something so intimate as eating off of someone else's plate, when he barely knows them. "Oh, it's good!" he sounds surprised, because he is, but he goes back to his lasagna fairly quickly. He hasn't been shoveling food into his mouth or anything, but he's already closing in on done, every spare moment after the first bite devoted to having a little bit more of it.

He tries to think of something else to say, and fails miserably, becoming more aware of how adoring Kevin looks, as he becomes less aware of how terrifying. He can feel his cheeks start to heat a bit, and his tongue suddenly feels like it's stuck to the roof of his mouth. It's one of those times when he can tell he's going to start to say things that are stupid if he opens his mouth, and yet he knows that at any moment, he's going to feel compelled to.

For now, though, he manages to stay silent, putting another bite of lasagna in there to keep himself from speaking.

[ There are about four reasons Kevin won't be offering him a chihuahua anytime soon. The first is that chihuahuas are the worst breed of dog anyone could possibly own and he would sooner get Carlos a husky or something of that nature before ever getting him a chihuahua. The second is that if Carlos somehow ends up staying with him (he's thinking about it, oh is he thinking about it), he's pretty sure his apartment building doesn't allow pets. He's never actually checked, but he's pretty sure. The third is that he's allergic to dogs. It's gotten better since he was a kid, but he generally doesn't do well around them. The fourth is that while Kevin is undeniably insane, providing the voice for the town that could very well be the embodiment of insanity for a living, he is not that kind of insane. He's more the "I'm going to kill you and enjoy it" or "your just visiting from another town, but you're so handsome that I'm going to happily brainwash you into moving here" kind of insane. Not the "let me just buy you a dog apropos of nothing" kind of insane which would probably be more convincing if he didn't just offer his own clothes. Not that he's even saying any of this out loud.

Kevin can't help but to chuckle a little bit at how surprised Carlos sounds when he likes the gnocchi. He really wasn't expecting to like it based on past experience, wasn't he? That's so sweet, thinking any of his Desert Bluffs experiences will be the same as his experiences elsewhere. That will never happen. Not as long as Desert Bluffs remains as it is and Kevin thinks that will be for a good long time. He hopes Desert Bluffs will stay the same for a good long time. Change is a good thing, he knows that! Progress is the most efficient thing for the world and efficiency is one of Kevin's favorite things, but he loves Desert Bluffs as it is. He can't think of anything that could possibly make it better.

The surprise gets a chuckle, but the silence brings a touch of disappointment. A touch of disappointment and plenty of worry. He worries that the silence is a sign he isn't as comfortable around Kevin as he should be considering how much he's already eaten. He worries that somehow the effects are wearing off, something that's never happened before. He worries that he'll have to punish Gerry for not making the food strong enough today. Kevin and Desert Bluffs are extremely influential all on their own, but there's only so much they can do without a little help. His worry and disappointment don't show in his smile, though. If his worries are unfounded, he doesn't want to slip up and let it show in front of Carlos. He'll just have to say something himself. It won't be too hard. He does talk for a living, after all. ]

Would you say you're more of a morning person or a night person? Personally, I'm a morning person! There's just something invigorating about those first few hours of the day that I just can't help but love. The birds are chirping, squirrels are playing, and even the ants are going about their business with a determination they lack as the day goes on! Everything just feels so new and refreshed, I don't know how anyone can think about sleeping through such a beautiful time of day! I could never do it.

[ This topic has nothing to do with anything. It's a way of getting to know Carlos, to gauge how he's feeling. No matter what the food should be leaving Carlos comfortable enough to answer a question like that. If he can't muster the words to answer that question than something has definitely gone wrong. ]

Kevin really doesn't need to be disappointed about the silence, or worried. If anything, if he actually knew anything about Carlos, he ought to be grinning and composing victory songs. Carlos isn't the most talkative of people, normally, but he has a tendency to babble when he's nervous, and babble inanely if he lets himself open his mouth around someone who he's aware has expressed any kind of interest in him. Or that he's interested in. The silence is his way of preventing a sudden flood of words, because it's flattering, that Kevin's gone to all this trouble, and while he can usually remain oblivious to things for weeks at a time, it's hard to miss that look on his face.

He's suddenly aware that he might be on a date with a man he has only just met, who is looking at him, for a moment there, like the table between them might not be a good enough barrier. An attractive man he has only just met. He looks like Cecil.... Ten minutes ago, that might have been what was keeping him oblivious, but now...

The chemicals in the food, the influence of the town... re-writing someone was difficult, and more likely to be noticed. It took more energy, it destroyed the sort of diversity that a town needed to stay healthy, even if a little enforced homogeny also helped maintain things. But tweaking, twisting logic inside someone's head until their worldview snapped into place, that was far, far easier, and less likely to be noticed and fought against. Because the town could be fought against. But Carlos, like most people new to Desert Bluffs, doesn't even think to try.

So these sudden thoughts of Cecil aren't of him pining for returning to Night Vale. They're him doing things like wondering if Kevin will make the same sort of half-shocked, half-pleased noise if he kisses him, and then not being able to meet his eyes because that's not the kind of thought you have about someone you've just met and it's not like being around Cecil has ever made him anything other than aware of every last inch of a body that suddenly seems too awkward and big, a brain fast enough with equations but eternally stuck in second gear when it comes to matters of the heart, rather than mind.

"I like mornings," his what he says, and then mentally kicks himself because what is he, three? "I, uh, I don't really think I'm either, though. I mean, I am a scientist, I stay up pretty late. Doing science," oh god, what has happened to his mouth, it's like a runaway train, and now, he's just making it worse, but he can't stop, "I've probably seen more sunrises from the night side than the day, but there's nothing wrong with mornings. I don't mind them. They're good. And there's, you know, more light. In the daytime. Scientifically."

What is wrong with him. He finally has to just stuff another bite of lasagna in his mouth to avoid continuing to babble and make it worse. He sort of wants to bury his head in his hands, but manages to refrain from doing so. Perhaps he can sink down into the earth, instead.

[ Oh.

Oh, Carlos speaks and Kevin thinks he understands his silence now. He thinks understands it very well. True, Carlos isn't the worst speaker ever. He has something to say and not every word comes out in a nervous stutter. But he's still noticeably awkward in a way Kevin finds utterly endearing. Carlos is nervous around him and that is just so adorable. He reaches across the table to rest his hand on top of the one not currently shoveling food into Carlos's mouth in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. He doesn't want Carlos to feel like he has to keep silent because he thinks he sounds stupid to Kevin. If anything, he just sounds even more impressive being that dedicated to his work. There's nothing more attractive to Kevin than dedication to one's work and hearing about Carlos's just makes him fall even more in love.

But Carlos doesn't have to worry about this being a date. Kevin knows better than to be so presumptuous as to assume that Carlos would even want to go on a date with him. They just met, after all! As much as Kevin would love to be on a date with Carlos, he won't assume this is anything more than a night out with a new friend. Although, if he knew what thoughts were running through Carlos's head, if he knew that Carlos was comparing him to his boyfriend in the best possible way, he might rethink not considering this a date. If he knew that Carlos was wondering what sort of noise he would make if Carlos kissed him he might starting thinking this really could be a date. He certainly would be writing those victory songs, at the very least.

Kevin does grin. He grins in that positively inhuman way of his. He grins with a grin that could be mistaken for threatening to someone entirely unused to Kevin, who doesn't realize that it's actually immense fondness, clearly, in his smile. There's nothing inhuman about Kevin, why would his smile be inhuman in any way? No, it's just his own special brand of fondness. Fondness and a little bit of concern. Kevin does love to see others have as much dedication to their jobs as he has to his, but he'd hate to see Carlos's health suffer because of it. He runs his fingers gently over Carlos's knuckles, resting his cheek in his other hand. ]

I hope you don't stay up so late too often. That just isn't healthy. The sunrise is beautiful, but it would be such a shame if your work were to suffer because you were staying up so late. [ Kevin takes his hand back, fingers dragging softly across Carlos's as it moves. ] Efficiency decreases as exhaustion increases, you know. A brilliant scientist like you probably can't afford to let his work suffer because you didn't get enough sleep.

[ There's nothing but absolutely genuine concern in his voice. Maybe he's too genuine about it, too concerned. But that's okay, right? There couldn't possibly be any sort of ulterior motive to Kevin's concern. He loves Carlos. He would never want anything bad to happen to him, would never be anything less than sincere in the things he says. And anyway, what are the chances Carlos would notice if there were something underneath that genuine concern of Kevin's after eating as much as he already has? ]

Kevin's hand laying over his draws his attention immediately, of course, but it's not until Kevin deliberately strokes his fingers against his that he fumbles and nearly drops his fork. Kevin's smile is terrifying, but he's finding it really hard to be terrified with a stomach full of really good lasagna and all the other kinds of fear all tangled together inside him. There's no way to mistake Kevin for being anything other than fond, anything other than thoughtlessly intimate with him and, for someone like Carlos, that turns his stomach into knots far more than any inhuman smile ever could.

What does he do? What does he say? He should be finding a way to let him down gently, right? He does have Cecil to go back home to, even if he's already thinking about that less, already wondering if he really has to go back tonight. Kevin is clearly some kind of monster, his inhumanity so close to the surface that even Carlos can sense it, but he's finding that it's harder to hold onto any actual judgement in that word. Partially, that's the lasagna, but partially, it's another thing that Kevin actually has Night Vale itself to thank for. Carlos has seen so much strangeness, so much monstrosity, turn out to be perfectly harmless, even helpful, that it's hard for him to be afraid of things anymore just because they're clearly not human. And Kevin has been so nice, really.

"I try to get sleep," he protests, though it's good-natured, "but everything here is so fasc--" his breath catches, audibly, words cutting off abruptly when Kevin's fingers drag against his, and he feels it like a bolt straight up his arm to his spine. Someone else might have drawn their hand sharply back or the like, but he's too shocked to react, just keeps going, "--cinating. It's hard to stop and put myself to bed at a reasonable hour. I try not to get too exhausted, though. Exhausted people make mistakes, and you can't make mistakes in Science. Particularly not if people's lives are on the line." He goes to take another bite of lasagna to fill the silence, as though a bit of food can make that earlier moment just go away, like magic. There is no more lasagna, so he takes a sip of his water, instead, fidgets.

Whatever was in Kevin's voice, he hasn't picked up on it. He's too busy desperately playing a game of mind over matter where he's convincing himself that that didn't feel good and that he's not attracted at all to a man who looks just like Cecil but is, quite importantly, not. The food he's eaten keeps him from feeling very guilty about it (of course Kevin is attractive, Cecil is attractive, why wouldn't someone who looked like him be? And there was just enough difference there to be interesting, new, exciting...), but it's still strange and he doesn't know what it is he does feel about it.

[ Carlos should feel good, of course. Why wouldn't he feel good? If he likes Cecil, of course he's going to like Kevin. Cecil is attractive, dedicated to his job, and utterly imperfect. All that there is to love about Cecil, there's more of in Kevin. Cecil is so, so imperfect and Carlos should feel honored to have the immediate affection of Kevin who does not have all of those nasty imperfections that run rampant in Cecil. It's no use denying it when things do feel good. It's only natural, after all. ]

Of course, of course. It would be such a shame to lose a life over a silly little mistake. [ Then again, if you were looking to redecorate loss of life might not be such a bad thing. ] You know, if you were to work for StrexCorp you wouldn't have to worry about putting yourself to bed. StrexCorp ensures that all of its employees go to bed when they're supposed to and wake up when they're supposed to. As you said, exhausted people make mistakes and mistakes are not productive. StrexCorp does everything they can to make sure all of its employees are in tip top shape so that we're all as productive as possible. [ He says this casually, like he's not trying to convince Carlos of anything, merely stating a fact about Kevin's own place of business.

He is, of course, stating this for the sole purpose of perhaps wooing Carlos into becoming a StrexCorp employee. It hadn't been Kevin's original intention to mention the possibility of Carlos coming to work for StrexCorp -- certainly not this soon, at least -- but now seems as good a time as any if they're talking about work. Kevin loves working for StrexCorp. He can't imagine working for anyone else. It's only natural that he talk about all the benefits of working for them.

When Carlos doesn't pull his hand away Kevin takes the opportunity to wrap his fingers around Carlos's. His touch remains gentle, feather light, but definitely there. It's something of a test to see how far he can go before the city and the food's influence no longer reaches Carlos. ]

Oh, you've already finished your lasagna! [ He says it like he hasn't been watching Carlos take every bite, like he hasn't been aware of when Carlos ate the last bite from the moment he sunk his fork into it. ] Would you like anything for dessert? I just love the tiramisu! I don't think I've ever left Little Gerry's without getting it. I would even go so far as to say it's to die for.

[ Kevin puts emphasis on the word "die", but his voice is too cheery, too bright. It lacks the foreboding darkness that emphasis like that should have, that would be present if this were fiction and that phrase were foreshadowing for something and that's appropriate. Kevin has no intention of letting Carlos die. Not right now, at least. He wants to keep Carlos here, to make him a valuable member of the StrexCorp and Desert Bluffs community, to make Carlos his. Letting Carlos die just wouldn't do. ]

((OOC: I might have made a tiny, glee-filled noise when I saw this in my inbox this morning, ngl.))

But Carlos isn't perfect, no matter what Cecil says, and being faced with someone who was (and he would have once argued that Cecil was perfect) he wasn't sure what to do with himself. There are butterflies. He's nervous. He's sitting across the table from an incredibly attractive man, who is quite clearly interested in him and who has, dear Lord, just curled his fingers around his. He's flushed and, without the distraction of food, he runs a hand, nervously, backwards through his hair, turning it wilder than usual.

"That sounds. Um. Interesting. I'll, uh, I'll think about it," he will not, but his hesitance comes not from thinking there's anything weird about how he talks about StrexCorp, but from being distracted by the fingers lacing with his own. He's deliberately not looking at their linked hands, but it's literally the only part of his body he's currently physically aware of. He swallows once, trying to regain some kind of equilibrium.

No. No he does not want dessert. This is awkward and strange and he's not sure why he's letting any of it happen, even as all of the things that are actually awkward and strange about it are being shuffled, quietly, away from any part of his brain where he could become aware of them. He should want to get out of here because there is something creepy about Kevin and this town and the overbearing way this whole day has gone. He should want to get out of here because this is not Night Vale, and Kevin is a monster, and Kevin is slowly taking more and more liberties with him. That's why he should want to leave.

It shouldn't have anything to do with Kevin being attractive and all of his deep-seated beliefs about himself not being attractive and his social anxiety around new people. That should be the last reason in his head for wanting to flee out of the restaurant.

"Do... do we have time?" is what he actually says, and he would check his watch (never accurate in Night Vale, not since he had given the other one to Cecil, but he'd never shaken the habit) but Kevin has claimed that hand, "I need to head back soon and I still wanted to see the station," he wonders if it is the locus of this town the way NCVR is. It never occurs to him that if he's right, he probably shouldn't walk into it, but then, back when he first arrived in Night Vale, he'd walked right into their station and nothing had hurt him.

He says he needs to head back soon, but it's a noticeably vague "soon", rather than "by nightfall" or "by six o'clock" or "now".

[ Oh, but Kevin would have to disagree. He would have to disagree quite strongly if Carlos were to ever call himself imperfect out loud. What with that hair and those teeth and his dedication to his work, Carlos is as far from imperfect as possible. No one could ever catch Kevin's attention quite so easily if they were even remotely imperfect. Kevin is very good at spotting imperfections. All high ranking StrexCorp employees are good at spotting imperfections.

It helps that they are all the perfect versions of themselves. One does not become a high ranking StrexCorp employee if they are anything less than perfect. ]

I'm so glad to hear it! Just think, if you were to come work for StrexCorp, we would be coworkers! Only distantly, but coworkers all the same. [ Kevin giggles, the idea making him giddy with excitement though he knows there's still a long way to go before there's any real possibility of it happening.

He leans over, not moving his hand from Carlos's, and fixes his hair where Carlos messed it up when he ran his hand through it. ]

Of course there's time! There's always time for dessert. And don't you worry about visiting the station. I have access to it 24/7. There will be plenty of time for that, too. [ Kevin's smile widens showing off even more of his too many teeth. ] You'll be able to leave whenever you want to. I know you must be very eager to get back to your work in Night Vale. I would never want to keep someone as brilliant as you from his very important work. Getting in the way of productivity would be simply awful!

[ Of course, if Carlos decides he never wants to leave, well, Kevin won't have any issue finding other ways for Carlos to be productive. The station could always use new scientific consultants. It's just so very hard to find competent, long term consultants that don't eventually end up helping with the decorating rather than performing their actual duties. It's always so sad when that happens. Kevin would much rather keep all of his contacts in one piece, but, well, somethings are just unavoidable.

But Carlos is special, different. He's certain Carlos would never be demoted from scientist to interior... decorator. Yes, that's a good way to describe it. Interior decorator.

Kevin uses the hand not still holding Carlos's to wave the waitress over. Carlos hasn't exactly said yes to dessert, but there's nothing wrong with ordering it anyway and saving it for later. Kevin is certain there will be a later. ]

Two orders of the tiramisu and coffee, please. [ The waitress leaves and Kevin turns back to Carlos again, smile smaller now. More human looking for some value of human. ] I hope you don't mind, it's just. Well, if you do leave Desert Bluffs tonight, I'm not sure when you'll be coming back and at the risk of it being a very long time before we saw each other again I just can't let you leave without getting a taste.

He swears he can feel every single last hair Kevin touches move when he fixes his hair. His fingers clench, involuntarily, in Kevin's, his whole body a twitch for a moment. His spine straightens slightly. The touch is like a current. He's not sure if it's pleasant or unpleasant. He wants to jerk away. He wants him to touch him again.

He wants to protest the touch. He wants to protest dessert. He is very aware that his own desires for dessert are being ignored and his objections are being misunderstood or discarded. He is very aware that Kevin's fingers are still laced around his. Something is not right, something is... something is...

Something about the way Kevin says he didn't want him to leave without getting a taste makes him shudder. It is not unpleasant. He has to get out of here, he doesn't want to... he doesn't even know what he doesn't want to do, he...

"Sorry. Sorry, I'll be right. I'll be. Back. Before dessert just... um..." Carlos, brave, perfect Carlos, flees to the bathroom.

The porcelain tiles do not bring the clarity that he was hoping for, but the water he splashes on his face does cool the heat of his cheeks somewhat. He leans on the counter, closes his eyes, tries to compose himself. Cecil always had this way of making him flustered and Kevin seems to have the same. What is he doing? He needs to... get back? Does he? He doesn't have plans tonight. He could theoretically stay, if he wanted to, explore some more mysteries of this place, get some more readings. He definitely does want to see the station, and driving back at night seems silly and Kevin is... Kevin is...

He splashes some more water on his face, scrubs at it with a paper towel and tries to ignore all of the things his brain is so helpfully providing him that Kevin is. Not Cecil, should be the most important one, but it is alarmingly absent-- he keeps having to remind his brain of that one, that his attraction is completely inappropriate, no matter how attracted Kevin is to him, or how proprietarily he touches him.

He feels better, by the time he's headed back to the table, embarrassed about his earlier behavior, smiling sheepishly as he approaches,

"Sorry. I just. Sometimes I don't do people very well," he apologizes, "I feel better now." He does, but there's a little furrow that appears in his brow as he approaches the table all the same. He knows he was sitting across from Kevin when he got up, but it feels wrong, somehow, like maybe he's not remembering correctly, and he had been sitting next to him all along. Or should have been. Was it weird, that he was sitting across from him? Puzzled, he just hovers for a moment, indecisive.

[ No. No.

Kevin very nearly reaches out to keep Carlos right where he is, to keep him from running away. That is not the right reaction. That is not the way Carlos should have reacted. Why did Carlos react that way? Kevin has never seen anyone react so strongly, so negatively after finishing an entire meal in Desert Bluffs. Carlos should not have had such an adverse reaction to his touch. That should not have happened.

The hand that had been holding Carlos's curls into a fist. He can still feel the warmth of Carlos's hand on his skin. It does nothing to make him feel better. His smile turns into a frown, his nails dig into his skin hard enough that it's a miracle they aren't drawing blood, and Kevin glares fiercely at the few people stupid enough to stare at him and Carlos's currently empty seat. ]

There is nothing productive about staring like that. Finish your meal and then get back to work.

[ Kevin could kill Gerry. Kevin should kill him. It is his job to ensure everyone who eats here stays in Desert Bluffs and if Carlos still has it in him to react so negatively to Kevin's touch, he is clearly not doing his job. What good is he if he can't do his job correctly? This kind of mistake will hurt his value quite badly. If Kevin doesn't take it upon himself to kill Gerry, Gerry will be lucky if StrexCorp doesn't get someone else to do it in his stead.

The waitress comes back with their dessert and a box. Kevin glares at her, too, and if he hadn't seen Carlos coming out of the bathroom at that exact moment, he very likely would have taken his anger out on her. This place could use some redecorating. But he does see Carlos and so the waitress is allowed to scurry off towards another table while Kevin wipes all traces of anger from his face. He's smiling again by the time Carlos is walking to the table. It's a smaller smile, perhaps a touch of worry in his expression. ]

Oh. [ Perhaps Gerry still has all of his value, after all. ] I was worried you'd gotten sick. I am so glad you're okay now. I suppose I was getting a little carried away. You just let me know if I'm doing anything to make you uncomfortable and I will stop it immediately.

[ Just a minor annoyance then. Kevin can deal with touching Carlos a little less if it means keeping him around a little longer. It will be a shame, but Carlos is still in such a delicate state right now. One wrong move could undo all of the progress they'd made with the lasagna. At least Carlos isn't insisting on going back to Night Vale this very second. Carlos's hesitance to sit back down does not go unnoticed, though. ]

Carlos? Are you certain you're feeling okay? You can sit back down if you'd like.

"No, no, it's not you, it's me I just... I don't... I'm not..." he stammers, and he's still standing, "I don't do people very well," he finishes, again, very much aware that's how he finished before as well. "I don't know what to say or do and I..." he ruffles his hand back through his hair again, frustrated, "Sorry. I'm sorry, you're being really nice and I just don't know how to... sorry," he finishes again, lamely.

He's not reaching a decision any easier on the seats, still waffling between the two. It seems like he should be over on Kevin's side of the booth. It feels more right, but now he's worried maybe Kevin wouldn't want him there. He takes his old seat after another awkward pause where he just stands there, and it just feels... wrong to be over here, on this side. But now he's seated and it would be weird to get back up.

He doesn't even realize he's put his hand back in easy reacquisition range, as he looks at the dessert,

"Wow, that looks... really good," he's not usually a huge fan of desserts, in general, but this one looks delicious. There's a box, though, so he looks for confirmation from Kevin on whether they're eating it here, or not. Kevin doesn't necessarily have any way to know this, but Gerry has done his job perfectly well-- time seems less imperative already, and he's stopped insisting that they don't have time to eat it, is just looking to Kevin for confirmation on if they will.

You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. I'm just glad you're still here. I think you're doing perfectly with me. [ And that's absolutely true. And now that Carlos has stopped talking so much about going back and not having enough time, Carlos truly is doing even more perfectly.

If Kevin were a mind reader he might have told Carlos that he would be ecstatic to have Carlos sit next to him. Of all the things Kevin is, however, a mind reader is not one of them. He does watch Carlos with a bit of confusion when he continues to stand in place rather than sit down, but doesn't ask. He isn't expecting Carlos to sit next to him all of a sudden. The food and the town influence people to stay in Desert Bluffs, to love the town. They do not influence seating arrangements. So as much as Kevin would like to be sitting next to Carlos, he makes no mention of it.

What he does do is take Carlos's hand back in his as soon as it's within his reach. ]

It is good! In fact, I wouldn't hesitate to say it's one of the best desserts in the world! [ Not that he's done too much travelling in his life, but a little exaggeration never hurt anyone. Kevin smiles a little more, all worry gone from his expression now that he knows Carlos isn't planning on going anywhere any time soon. He takes his own fork and sinks it in, but doesn't take a bite just yet. ] Our waitress must have thought you wouldn't want it after you ran off to the bathroom like that. I didn't even ask for it.

[ He takes a bite now and watches Carlos with a fond smile to see how he'll react when he takes his first bite. ]

If he were just some kind of traveler, passing through, he'd probably have a different reaction entirely to Kevin. Not a bad reaction! Kevin was a part of Desert Bluffs, after all, and loving the town meant loving the people in it. But if Kevin had just been sweetly polite to him, if Kevin didn't look like Cecil, if Kevin weren't so openly and immediately interested in him, he probably wouldn't have even considered where to sit.

But Kevin was all of those things. Kevin touched him like it was okay for him to touch him, like he touched him all the time. Kevin was familiar with him and interested in him and they were definitely, definitely on a date at this point. He doesn't take Kevin's hand, but when Kevin takes his, his fingers lace with his, automatically, and his brain tells him that that, like the rest of Desert Bluffs, is lovely and perfect and exactly what he's always wanted. He strokes his own thumb back against Kevin's, just the tiniest bit, almost experimental, flushing slightly.

Something is different about him since the bathroom. He is too used to using all kinds of mental tricks on himself to get himself to calm down, too used to panicking in social situations. The very things that help him calm down, reminding himself that it's okay, that he's okay, that the other person probably doesn't hate him, that he should pull himself together and go back out there, seem to have worked with whatever was in the lasagna. He has convinced himself that everything is alright, that everything is as it should be, and that Kevin's behavior isn't strange compared to his own.

After that, everything else falls into place around it.

It's not complete. There is nothing the lasagna can do about the fact that Carlos does, in fact, have a boyfriend. There is nothing the lasagna can do about the fact that, so far, at least, there are no weird scientific things to uncover, here, like there are in Night Vale. But it can temporarily push those things aside to make room for tirimisu, and not needing to get back, and the feel of skin he has convinced himself should be against his own.

"Sorry about that," he says again, but he's more apologizing reflexively, at this point, and already lifting the bite of tirimisu up to his mouth. It's delicious, soft and sweet and perfect, with that tiny undercurrent of alcohol burn to it, but light, airy, not cloying despite the texture of it. Despite his earlier nervousness, there is no reaction to that except to close his eyes in bliss for just a moment, dragging them open a few moments later with a look more suited to a bedroom than a restaurant.

"Wow," he's definitely impressed, "That is really good."

[ Kevin does not get flustered easily. He gets flustered so rarely, in fact, that most people have never seen it happen. It doesn't happen now, either, but under different circumstances, in a different situation, it might have. Not now, though. Now he remains composed, watching cautiously for anything that might go wrong and pleased at the way things are currently going. The warmth of Carlos's hand is almost as good as the warmth of the Smiling God and the way Carlos strokes his thumb over Kevin's is even better. He isn't sure what happened in the bathroom, if the lasagna suddenly kicked into overdrive or if this honestly is just Carlos suddenly gaining a little more confidence, but whatever it is, Kevin is grateful for it.

It sends a little shiver down Kevin's spine to think of how well things are progressing now. If things keep going this well, who knows what wonders the station will work?

He squeezes Carlos's hand to show he fully approves of the movement of his thumb. He will definitely have to thank Gerry for this later on. Even if he's not fully responsible for Carlos's change in attitude, he certainly did help. Kevin doubts Carlos would still be here if it weren't for Gerry's handy cooking skills. He reaches over again with his free hand, fixing the hair that was once again messed up when Carlos ran his hand through it. Carlos's hair is perfect in color, length, and feel, but this habit of running his hands through it will have to come to an end. StrexCorp has some wonderful behavior training classes, but Carlos may not be ready for something that intensive yet. Maybe a change in style?

They'll have to discuss it at little later on. There's still a long way to go before Kevin can hope to dig his claws that deeply into Carlos. Once they've severed all ties Carlos has to Night Vale that Desert Bluff's influence alone can't take care of, they can talk about minor details like that. ]

I told you it would be! I never lie about food. Food is a necessary component to a healthy and productive life, after all. Who would ever want to lie about something so important?

[ Kevin takes another bite of his own dessert. The look Carlos is giving him is wonderful. It's true that the lasagna couldn't technically break Cecil and Carlos up. For all that it did do with the help of specially developed StrexCorp chemicals, it did not telepathically let Cecil know that Carlos is currently holding hands with and making bedroom eyes at Kevin, but does that really matter now? At this point, Kevin may as well be Carlos's boyfriend.

Regardless, Kevin will take care of Cecil soon enough whether Carlos wants him to or not. Kevin cannot allow such an imperfect version of himself to continue living.

But those are matters for another time. Kevin is not aware that Cecil is Carlos's boyfriend and he is not aware that Cecil is his double. Taking care of him is a task for another time. ]

So tell me, Carlos. What tests are you going to run on my beloved radio station?

Kevin sets his hair to rights and the look Carlos gives him is thankful and possibly overly fond, which is quite the switch from how he'd looked before. But it's... nice, actually. Kevin's taking care of him, putting things to right where he's messed them up and Kevin might find that that's a full time job, but it's just... nice, to not have to worry about it. Also, his fingers feel good in his hair, which is more what causes the blush to deepen. Carlos is flustered a lot, and so he doesn't think it's odd, anymore, that Kevin throws him off a little. He strokes his thumb more along Kevin's.

This whole thing is... nice, actually. It's a little like something out of a storybook, unreal, particularly with the other diners looking over curiously. It should make him nervous, and maybe it normally would have, but there's this delicious dessert and Kevin seems to be perfectly capable of taking care of everything and navigating everything. He can just relax. He doesn't have to worry about anything. It brings a smile to his face for no reason other than he can't imagine not smiling. It's definitely more genuine that everyone else's smiles though, softer, with just a hint of teeth before he takes the next bite of tiramisu

"Mm. Well," he swallows the latest bite of dessert and reaches into his labcoat to pull out his little hand held meter. The indicator is vibrating madly on zero, like it's being held there by force, but Carlos is definitely too far gone to fully process what that might mean, "Huh, that's weird. I've never seen it do that before..." he does get distracted by it, just not nearly as panicked as he should be.

"Anyway! I made this myself-- it's hard to take all of my equipment everywhere in Night Vale, there's just too much to try to measure in a given situation to carry it all, so I combined a few different things all in one device depending on which option you select," although he opted to be a scientist, mechanical engineering had always been one of his strongest suits, and combined with some of the technology he could find in Night Vale, he'd made a device far beyond current scientific devices. He had no idea where some of the parts had come from, though... "Depending on where you set the dial, it can read radiation, seismic activity (though it's a little less sensitive than I'd like on that front), and can provide basic sonar, though it's a bit more like a stud finder than any true sonar equipment. It, ah," he runs his hand back through his hair again, definitely a nervous habit they'd have to talk about, "it can also be used as an EMF reader," he admits, a little sheepishly. He has no idea if Kevin will know that having that on a field reader like this one almost certainly means he's used it to look for ghosts or other paranormal things, but he knows, and he's always a little embarrassed, particularly because that's not just in the realm of strange science, but outright pseudo-science. On the other hand, a dragon is running for mayor in Night Vale. He's never picked anything up on the EMF that wasn't something he expected to pick up, but it's still handy to have.

"I was just going to run the full barrage of things. The readings in the radio station in Night Vale were... very strange. I'm curious if yours will be as well, or if it will just provide me with a better baseline," he has another bite of tiramisu, clearly lighting up a bit more than usual when talking about Science.

((OOC: I just want to say this is one of my favorite threads ever and I am so happy you haven't quit on me because of my unbelievable slowness.))

There is no such thing as overly fond when the person you're with is equally as fond, perhaps even more fond than you. Perhaps Carlos can make something to measure their fondness levels. Kevin would be interested in seeing just how fond Carlos is of him compared to how fond he is of Carlos. If the way Carlos continues to run his thumb along Kevin's hand, he has a feeling he would be rather pleased with the results. Kevin doesn't think he's ever been quite so captivated with a person the way he is with Carlos. It's nice that the feeling seems to be mutual, even if Carlos's feelings did require some chemical coercion.

Carlos's smile might be soft, might not be as big as everyone else's, but it makes Kevin fall in love all over again, and he's glad for it. Kevin feels warm inside in a way he doesn't think he's ever felt before. The warmth from Carlos's hand travels all through his body, the warm in his smile filling his brain in a way that leaves him feeling giddy and excited. He's definitely never felt this way about anyone or anything before. Not even StrexCorp with their helpful recurring dreams and occasional tendency to shift people's thoughts around to ensure they're thinking as productively as possible.

The way Carlos makes him feel is totally unique. It's a little terrifying, mostly it's wonderful. And if helping Carlos fix his mistakes does turn out to be a full time job, well, that's okay. That's okay because Kevin likes helping people fix their mistakes. Not counting what he's feeling right now, of course, helping others to fix their mistakes is the best feeling in the world! Carlos will have to learn to fix some problems without aide eventually, but StrexCorp will be more than happy to help Kevin get him to that point. Many people within StrexCorp are indebted to Kevin, after all. It's only right that they take some time out of their busy lives to make sure Carlos becomes the most perfect version of himself possible. Especially since he may just be coming to work for StrexCorp in the potentially near future.

But those thoughts are pushed to the side when Carlos breaks out his science equipment. He takes his hand from Carlos without even really meaning to so he can lean over better, get a closer look at whatever it is that Carlos is holding. Kevin's eyes go wide with interest, he listens closely to all that Carlos has to say, and doesn't care one bit about what having an EMF reader on the device means. It's all amazing and wonderful and Kevin could listen to Carlos talk about science for days. It helps that Carlos just exudes the sort of energy that could be used to power the entire city. It's absolutely adorable seeing him light up like that. ]

You really are brilliant, Carlos, to have been able to make that yourself! [ It shows in his voice that Kevin is honestly impressed with his work. He's not just saying it because he wants Carlos to like him. He's already taking care of that in a slightly different way. He motions to the device and, more specifically, the way it's vibrating. ] What does it mean when it vibrates like that? Nothing bad, I hope!

Kevin leans back in his seat again, but doesn't try to resume holding Carlos's hand. Instead, he digs into his dessert a little more. Kevin wasn't just trying to get Carlos under the influence of more of the food's influence when he was talking about how great it is. He really does love it almost more than any other desert and it would be such a shame to let it go to waste just because he was holding Carlos's hand with the hand he eats with. ]

You will have to tell me all about Night Vale and its radio station one day! I would love to hear whatever you can tell me.

Edited 2014-05-30 22:05 (UTC)

((OOC: Oh! Thank you! This is one of my favorites as well-- I adore your Kevin and the thread itself is too much fun. I definitely don't mind a little slow for awesome threads! :) ))

Carlos flushes and ducks his head slightly. He can tell the compliment is genuine and it makes him feel... feel... There's a weird flutter of guilt for... some reason, something he feels like he could remember if he just concentrated on it a second. But it's hard to feel properly over the giddy feeling of butterflies in his stomach that are unique to when a person you are attracted to thinks something you do is genuinely awesome, and very few other people do.

"Th-Thank you," he stammers out and he's flushing and smiling and generally too adorable for words for a moment before the rest of the question settles in, and and looks down at the meter again, brow furrowing,

"I don't know. I've never seen it do that before. It's almost like it wants to be registering something, but the needle's stuck, or being held there," that is exactly, precisely what is happening. That is what has been happening since he crossed over into the town boundaries, though its gotten stronger near Kevin. Not that he knows that. "It's pretty strange, isn't it?" he probably should investigate that. He should... but, you know, maybe after another bite of tiramisu.

He takes another bite, and he can't remember ever settling into a conversation like this, but he's so relaxed. Everything is nice. Kevin really seems to like him and everyone's so friendly and smiling. Night Vale's nowhere near so cheery as this place. He wonders why Cecil is always so down on it. It seems kind of mean, honestly.

"I don't think there's a whole lot to tell, and I've only been inside once or twice," he says with a shrug, "But I'll be happy to, if you really want to know about it."

[ Kevin chuckles lightly at Carlos's reaction to the compliment. Given everything he's seen out of Carlos so far that sort of reaction was expected, but that doesn't make it any less adorable. He reaches across the table, placing two fingers under Carlos's chin to lift his head again. Carlos has such lovely eyes. Kevin doesn't want to lose sight of them for even a second. ]

Oh, there's no need to thank me for speaking the truth. Thank you for your contributions to the scientific world. We could all stand to be as productive as you seem to be. [ Kevin lets his smile relax just slightly, eyebrows raising in genuine interest and curiosity. ] That is strange. You should probably get that fixed. A problem like that can only hinder your progress in reaching your full productive potential.

[ It's not said unkindly, more matter-of-fact than anything. He has a real interest in Carlos and it would be a shame if his hard work is hindered by faulty equipment. A perfect person is a productive person and a productive person is a person who takes the maintenance of their equipment seriously.

Kevin takes another bite of his dessert and his smile brightens once again as he swallows. ]

Oh, yes, I would truly love to hear anything you could tell me about it. Maybe it's silly, but as a radio professional myself I can't help but to be immensely curious about the community radio of Desert Bluff's sister city. [ Kevin's smile grows sharper, maybe a little menacing. His tone is, perhaps, a little too interested, a little too invested in hearing about Night Vale's radio station, but the explanation for that is completely reasonable, isn't it? ] You know, I've always wanted to visit Night Vale. It sounds like such a wonderful little place.

[ For visiting. Desert Bluffs is the only adequate place to live. Now if only Carlos would see it that way. ]

Carlos's breath catches, audibly, at the feel of those fingers under his chin, lifting, and he's very clearly the same kind of flustered that had led him to flee to the bathroom, before. But he'd already determined he wouldn't be doing that anymore, so instead there's a whole play of muscles down his neck and arms that can't decide if they want to flee or lock into place. It's a panic response, but it's becoming more and more clear (particularly with the more food he eats) that he is not panicking at Kevin for any of the normal reasons to do so-- not with a blush like that on his face and the way he can't stop staring, now that Kevin's tilted his head up.

"You have really unusual eyes," he says, in a manner that suggests that he had definitely not intended to say that out loud, "I mean... um," he tries to duck his head, but he can't really, not with Kevin's hand there and so he just flushes further, chuckling awkwardly, "... that was a weird thing to say. Um. You're... you're right, I probably should take a closer look at the device and see what's causing it to malfunction. And I don't... know if I know where to start with Night Vale's radio station, really. I mean, my meters went crazy the first time I was there, but after Station Management got agitated that I was trying to get Cecil to evacuate during the Weather, I decided it wasn't a good idea to go back inside."

He stops for long enough to take a breath, to have another bite of dessert.

"Night Vale's... a little weird, actually," he says with a laugh, "Nothing ever seems to work the way it should there. But it's home now, I guess," another little nervous chuckle.

He calls it home, but he does not mention returning there.

((OOC: One day I will have a regular tagging schedule again, I swear. ))

My eyes are unusual? I suppose I've never noticed. I'm flattered that you've taken the time to notice, though.

[ Kevin hums thoughtfully, smile growing impossibly wider as he watches Carlos. He isn't bothered by the comment, not offended in the slightest. Unusual doesn't always mean bad, and Kevin knows for a fact there isn't anything bad about his eyes. He's been blessed by the Smiling God. If there were anything wrong with them he would have never received such an honor. The Smiling God only accepts perfection, after all. Anything less is unacceptable. Carlos will learn about all that in time.

He leans in just slightly, taking his hand from under Carlos's chin to rest his own chin on top of it. ]

Well, it is understandable that the Station Management over there would be agitated about that! It wouldn't do for a radio professional to leave in the middle of a broadcast, after all. Oh, I'm sure you had some very scientific reasons for requesting that this Cecil cut things short, but all good radio hosts know the importance of perseverance even in the most dire of situations. Work is very important, you know.

[ He leans back again, setting the fork he'd been twirling with his other hand back on the plate. His own dessert is mostly done and he has no desire to eat any more of it, but he doesn't push it away from him just yet. No need to make Carlos think Kevin is in any rush to get out of here. Let him finish first, eat as much as he can before exposing him to Kevin's studio. Best to let as many changes as possible happen here to make the rest of them even smoother later.

Kevin laughs with Carlos at the weird comment. Carlos has a knack for noticing the unusual, doesn't he?

And then Kevin's smile shifts into something different, something more like the grin he gave Carlos when he first approached the scientist not two hours ago. It's a grin filled with too many teeth, too sharp to be human. It's only barely a grin at all. But would Carlos even notice that at this point? Kevin has his doubts. He notices the way Carlos no longer talks about returning to Night Vale, doesn't let that nervous chuckle or the "I guess" tacked onto the end of that sentence slip by. ]

You guess? Now that's a shame. I can't imagine living in a place I'm not entirely sure about, but I suppose it is easy to doubt a place that refuses to work properly.

[ That's a big conclusion to jump to and Kevin knows that, but things have progressed far enough already that there's no harm in it, right? Just a little nudge to help Carlos's mind get a little closer to the correct line of thought. ]

No, unusual doesn't mean bad at all, even though he probably should be freaking out about them, at least as a scientific curiosity. But it doesn't even occur to him to do so, partly because of nerves, but mostly because of the food he's been eating. And he's almost finished with dessert at this point anyway, eating becoming a more mechanical process as he's focused more on the conversation, and on Kevin.

There's a part of him, underneath everything, that is becoming aware that something is not quite... right, but he's lived in Night Vale so long that he's genuinely not sure if it's that something here isn't right, or that he's so used to the rules in Night Vale now that when they are absent, it seems weird. He feels a little strange, but that might just be that he seems to be actually socializing with some degree of success, despite his awkward rush to the bathroom, earlier. Or maybe he should... should...

The trouble with forgetting something is that knowing you've forgotten it doesn't necessarily mean that you can remember what it is. There is something he feels like he should be thinking, but he isn't, and Kevin is... really very charming. He's so easy to smile around.

"It's very frustrating," he admits, of Night Vale, "But it's also great! We've had so many breakthroughs! You should have seen what some of the meters were doing yesterday-- it was amazing!" his whole body lights up when he talks about SCIENCE, a huge grin on his face, "I'm going to write a paper about it. All of the... science. But... it can be really hard, too. I miss pasta," the high-wattage smile fades slightly and he takes another bite of the desert, "There are so many rules, and a lot of the times they change and they get in the way of science. It's very frustrating."

It's easy to see that there's this whole other side to Carlos, the way he talks, that is excitable and kind of rambly and not at all the sort of serious, awkward person who ran off to the bathroom. It seems to be coming out the more tiramisu he has, too, or perhaps the more comfortable he gets around Kevin. Someone who asks too many questions might not be the best thing to be in Desert Bluffs, but if that nature could be controlled, and pointed at the right subject...

{ fine with anything. }

[ good/bad is pretty ambiguous in the killer7 universe, so kaede won't strictly fall into either of those roles but any scenario works! ]

[ good with anything! ]

[ OOC: jotun option is always available to those interested.
Although, this icon reminds me more of a skrull!loki which would be really wild to try. ]

Edited (because obvsly i can't make up my friggin mind) 2013-12-17 20:34 (UTC)

((Using Jamie what's-his-face from the movies because I'm lazy. Plays off the books.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

THE BODY HORROR/HORROR MOVIE MEME.

masaomi kida // durarara!! // ota

4/5

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Kevin | Welcome to Night Vale

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let's have kevin turn carlos into a true desert bluffian. let me know if anything should be changed!

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a million years later...

I will wait. Your Kevin is perfect. :)

I hope this tag turns out to be worth the nearly four month wait hahaha... I'm so sorry.

No problem! Shit happens. :)

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Erik Konopka | Metalocalypse OC | OTA

Brent Guthrie | Deadheads

Tucker | Tucker & Dale vs Evil