Chapter Text
"So we're moving?"
"Mhmm."
"Right now?"
"Yep."
"At this very second?"
"Uh-huh."
"And I have to change schools."
"Si."
"...Okay"
Carlos had no idea why his mother had decided that, instead of telling him three months ago that they were moving to a completely new town, you know, when she bought the new house and all, she would just wait for three months, then tell him day of. That's logical, right? Sooo much sense. Let's just not tell your son you're moving.
Granted, just last week his mom had decided that horse aren't real and that her job as a mail carrier wasn't a mail carrier job, but, in fact, a job as a witch, so it wasn't the oddest thing she had done. The weirdest thing, though, was probably having son. That was kind of an odd choice for her...Well, why question things? What is a scientist but flexible?
"Do I get to choose the school?"
"Out of the one single choice in town? Sure. Knock yourself out."
Okay, now that's annoying.
"Mom, I don't get a choice? What if the school doesn't have an AP program? What if they require religious studies? What if they are entirely too racist and homophobic and transphobic and misogynistic and, like, tall? What if they're tall!?!?! I can't handle a tall school!"
"Carlos, child, if you have a problem with a tall school, wear heels."
...
Well, it wasn't bad advice.
So, this was how Carlos found himself in Night Vale. Night Vale, the smallest town Carlos had ever been too, the driest town he had ever been to, and most definitely the weirdest. I mean, the first thing he saw driving into town was some pole thin teenager watering his lawn. A lawn. In the desert. A desert so dry Carlos had seen several signs about hyperthermia and hydration taxes. Who the hell waters a lawn that horrible looking, anyways? Who did this guy think he was?
Then Carlos was in an apartment above a pizza parlor (which looked remarkably new, and seemed to be the only one in town...weird), an apartment that was amazingly small for the space that it had. Something about it seemed rather...Odd...Like some idiot had done the architecture and put walls in the wrong paces and made the electric and plumbing spaces too wide. It wasn't much of a problem, though, Carlos had lived in smaller.
It wasn't too soon that the next day had struck and he was ushered off to school before the sun had even thought of rising. He'd settled for his favourite lab coat and his galaxy shirt to wear to school for the first day, since he wanted to make a good first impression, his only good pair of chemical stained jeans and newest pair of glasses to go with them.
He was ready for a new school. A new world. A new...Well, a new place to read and constantly work on homework and schoolwork and side work, and all other sorts of work! Scientists don't become scientists by slacking off!
And so Carlos went to school.
-
"Mom! I can't find my neon green jeans!"
The sound of shattering glass.
"Thanks for nothing!"
Cecil Gershwin Palmer had grown up in Night Vale his whole life. Literally his. Whole. Life. Like, he'd never left. Ever. You gotta imagine how sheltered a child like that must be. I mean, just think about it!
His older brother was about five years older than him and still living with the family, attending Night Vale Community College. Well, actually, pretending to attend Night Vale Community College. Mostly he was doing voice knows what behind the Ralph's in the dead of night and coming back with odd marks on his neck that look everything and nothing like hickies. Actually, they look a lot like vampire bites, but Cecil's not stupid. He knows vampires hate grocery stores.
Now, not to discredit his brother too much, Cecil does understand that it is difficult to college when living with a mother like theirs. He's seen the town council mandated television shows and been to Earl's (his best friend) house plenty enough times to know that his mother covering up mirrors and writing out omens on the walls with animal blood instead of cooking dinner was well...Different. Cecil had learned at an early age to be independent. He mastered the art of simple cooking before the age of six. Meanwhile, his brother had become so good at forging signatures by the age of seven that he would have put several secret government agencies to shame.
Not that a dysfunctional family is going to stop a strapping young man (nerd) like Cecil Gershwin Palmer, naturallment!
Yes, Cecil Palmer, writer for the school gazette, the only member of Night Vale High's drama club, hella puberty shocked, with fashion sense akin to a stolen car!
Oh golly, and today was monday, which meant bright purple lipstick, green pants, and his favourite bright blue tunic. After all, mondays are always green, at least in October they are...But that meant nothing if he couldn't find his pants!
"Did you look in the laundry, Cec?" He hears his brother call, followed by another sound, this time more like ceramic being broken than glass. Not in the least less concerning to most.
"Well duh, that's the first place I checked!"
"Under your bed?"
"Why would it be there?" That was a stupid suggestion, Cecil knows his brother knows about the ghoul that lives under his bed and steals his clothes. Duh.
"...." Silence rang just before said brother appeared at the bottom of the stairs, hair still wrapped in a towel. "Would they, by chance, be in your closet?"
Oh...Cecil hadn't considered that. "...Maybe..." Then he was dashing off to his closet of a room to the closet in his closet of a room, packed to the brim with clothes straight from the minds of Elton John, David Bowie, and Fred Astaire. Eclectic does not even begin to describe Cecil's style.
Soon he was running out the door, sacrificial dagger in hand just in case some sort of odd spirit or salamander tried to make him late, on his way to school. Early, of course, after all, Monday is not only a green day, but gazette day! He had secret propaganda to give out.
-
Carlos was early. Well, duh, of course he's early. A scientist is always prepared, and that means always being early. Well, at least that's what he tells himself. After finding the office and crossing the alligator infested moat, entering through the temple doors, passing into the Room of the Three Gargoyles, pushing in the correct tongue, evading the Temple Guards, and running into the Shrine of the Silver Monkey, assembling the statue in the correct order, descending into the Dungeon, finding the key and unlocking the Tomb of the Ancient Kings, hitting the correct floor tile and, falling into the Cave of Sighs, putting the statue heads in the correct order, opening the door to the Treasure Room and finding the hidden lever to bring him to the secretary's desk, Carlos received his schedule and locker number.
After that whole experience, Carlos was really happy to find his locker and put away his jacket and reading material. Unfortunately, the lock was rather odd, including a blood seal and several lock puzzles that he struggled with for a long while before the locker burst open.
-
Cecil was late! Dammit, he thought he'd be on time, or even early, but nope! There was a mob of GIANT SALAMANDERS blocking the street and he had to take a detour, and now he was running late and fuck dammit shi- Oh wow. WOW.
Skidding to a halt as he made his way towards his locker, Cecil saw the most beautiful human being standing at the locker next to his, fiddling with all the locks and blood sigils. Like damn, this person was extremely amazing, with flowing locks and beautiful dark skin, and the coolest shirt Cecil had ever seen, and wow he was wearing a labcoat, he must be a scientist or something. Wow, smart and beautiful and just...Wow.
Trying to keep his cool, young Gershwin Palmer tried to nonchalantly walk up to his locker and quickly open it, watching as the beautiful stranger finally got his own locker open and starts filing things into it.
A soft noise of annoyance brought Cecil back to the present, his head turning back to look at the source of the sound. "Good morning Khoshekh!" He trills, reaching up a hand to pet the head of the grumpy floating feline in the middle of his locker.
"How was your weekend? did you miss me? Oh, you're just so cute!" He happily fills Kohshekh's water and food bowls, scratching behind the cat's ears and feeling the grateful purr resonate from the kitty.
-
There was a cat in the locker next to his...A CAT?!?! Well, this was new. It couldn't be good for the cat, but it didn't seem like he minded being trapped, floating in a locker.
Scientific curiosity causes Carlos to lean over and look into the locker. "What's your cat's name?"
He was not expecting the boy in front of the locker to go bright scarlet, so bright scarlet that Carlos was concerned.
"Oh...Uh...Kho--Wow you'retalkingtome! OH the cat is uh...He's um....Sorryyou'rereallyattractiveandit'sjust-" He slaps a hand over his own mouth, stopping the logorrhea currently pouring from his vocal cords. With a couple of deep breaths the hand is removed and a loud, very quick "His name is Khoshekh I'm Cecil wowyou'recut- BYE!" Before the boy slammed the locker shut and dashed down the hallway.
Ookkaaaay...So class. Yeah, Carlos needed to go to class. Ha, better hurry or the trap doors will get him! That would be horrible!
-
"He talked to me!!!!" Cecil squealed to himself, twirling in the hallway as he ran to his first class. "Omigods I cute boy actually talked to me- OH darnit he probably thinks I'm a total fool!" He pouts pulling himself into his first class and taking seat. Suddenly his eyes go wide when he realises-
"Ooooh the new Gazette is out!"
Wait what?