Insert "Welcome to Night Vale" joke here

[zetabeamguy]

[ Doctor Impossible knows all about alternate timelines, parallel dimensions, and the existence of other worlds. Even before he was trapped in the multi-demensional crossroads from hell so ironically called Haven for who knows how long.

A lot of things happened in Haven. A lot of terrible things, a lot of strange things, and... maybe some good things.

One good thing in particular- named Cecil.

The universe where Cecil's Night Vale lay had taken some finding- he'd run across a few mentions of it in other continuities, as an idea, or a series of books, or, in one instance, a podcast. He was used to sifting through the mire to find what he really wanted, and when he did, when all the tests were done and he was 100% sure, he fired up his trans-dimensional gateway and took a walk.

He was still somewhat surprised when no one was panicking at the hole in reality that had just appeared in the middle of town.

Well then. ]

Comments

[weirdatlast]

Oh. [ Cecil answers, and is lost for an answer after that. Lost in the words, the warmth, the echoing of Jonathan's words, 'I came here to see you.' ]

You could see my apartment. [ He answers, voice deeper, and then gives himself a sharp mental kick. ] But.. That would... be a waste of your time here in Night Vale.

I would show you inside the radio station, but... That is probably not a good idea right now, either.

...We could go to the diner. The Moonlite All-Nite Diner. If you want.

[zetabeamguy]

[ Ugh Cecil don't make suggestions like that in that tone of voice. You've got him all distracted for a second. ]

I, ah-- the diner is fine.

[weirdatlast]

[ You're very distracting all the time, Jonathan. That's something Cecil hasn't forgotten. ]

Okay! [ He answers and waits for Jonathan to lead before remembering. Night Vale. His Night Vale. Right. ] Oh, uh... Hm.

You don't mind walking, right? Of course you don't, you... walked here to the station. But. I've been walking more, since coming back from Haven. Since my employers here began paying me in scrip not redeemable at any local gas stations and I have no way to use my car.

[ He loops his arm under Jonathan's, and pulls him into a walk. ] Luckily for us, the weather's nice. [ By which he means less blisteringly hot than usual. Only extremely hot, and not blistering. ]

[zetabeamguy]

[ Just as the cold doesn't bother him, neither does the heat. So really, it's just Cecil's proximity, their arms looped together, that makes his cheeks go a touch red. ] Nice for a desert, I suppose.

[ Yes. Keeping the conversation centered squarely on the weather is a good idea. ]

[weirdatlast]

[ Must be nice to not be able to feel things like oppressive heat, or an arm looped under yours. And by nice I mean awful. ]

Cold for a desert. Although even cold weather like this, I never really need a coat. Which is disappointing. [ Not that he was able to take that coat from Haven with him, anyway, but. It's the principle of the thing. ] ...Except, of course, for when we get the occasional government sponsored snow storms. But... We don't get those very often, anymore. Or government sponsored anything, really.

They were only cold half the time, anyway.

[zetabeamguy]

I have to say, from what I've discovered in looking for your universe, for this particular Night Vale, it's... an interesting place. Different, by a lot of standards, but at the same time, not.

[ he would have come to visit anyway, just because the place was an oddity. But he found he didn't care much about the science or the logic or anything behind the workings of the town. Not with Cecil here. This Cecil, his Cecil. ]

But if you ever need a vacation to somewhere colder, I do have an arctic base.

[weirdatlast]

I think I've had enough cold to last me at least one human lifetime. [ After that winter in Haven. How many months did that last? Way too many. ] But if you have an underwater base, I'd like to visit that one, sometime.

...Or the arctic one, I guess. We don't have to go outside. [ Stop being distracting Jonathan. This is your fault, these thoughts Cecil is having. You stop it. ]

So! [ He says as a distraction away from the distraction on his arm, walking very close to him in a way that's painfully nostalgic and familiar. ] Did you, um. Did you see other Night Vales, also? While you were looking for this one?

[zetabeamguy]

I have an island base, if that works.

[ but no, they don't have to go outside. Really, they don't even ever have to leave the--- wow okay. They are both very clearly distracting each other.

Not that he's really all that surprised. ]

Sort of. The multiverse is a funny thing.

[weirdatlast]

Mm. [ He hums, distracted by the idea of an island somewhere. Of being someplace like that with Jonathan.

But Night Vale's nice, too. Being here, like this. Walking down the street with Jonathan towards the diner, past average citizens of Night Vale while the weather is still playing on the radios they pass, his show still going on. Under the iron grip of the ominous corporation he works for, wondering when the next strange experiment will begin, how they will avoid death next. It's familiar. Mundane. This is nice. Just talking to Jonathan about multiverses, or science, or... whatever. ]

How is that?

[zetabeamguy]

Any one universe has endless different timestreams, because every decision has an impact, every influence will create something new, but outside of that, there are endless other places. Places where you and I and Night Vale have never existed, and places where we exist solely in fiction. I've heard your voice come out of the mouth of an actor, I've seen my exploits printed and sold in bookstores.

Finding the right one is like finding a needle in a haystack, as the saying goes, but it's not impossible. Least of all for me.

[weirdatlast]

It is impossible, you mean. And that's why you, of all people, were able to manage it.

In all of the Night Vales you saw, were you in any? Did you find where where you were already there?

What about one of your worlds with me in it? Was I ever a super villain? ...I probably wasn't a very good one, if I was.

[zetabeamguy]

One or two, but... I didn't look at those too long.

[weirdatlast]

Why not? I would have been curious about those ones. Weren't you?

[zetabeamguy]

Because I wanted this visit, this you, and this Night Vale, to determine the outcome of this trip.

[weirdatlast]

[ It's a touching thought, that he might be more significant than not only every other person, but also every other Cecil Palmer, every imaginable version of himself. And Cecil can't say he doesn't understand. He would prefer this Jonathan to an actor or fictional words on a page, also. But if there is every possible universe out there, then somewhere there is a universe where the two of them were never in a place called Haven. Where they never suffered needless physical and emotional pain. Where they grew up together in the same world, where they shared experiences that weren't deeply rooted in terror or sadness. There is a universe somewhere where Carlos never came to Night Vale. There is a universe somewhere where Jonathan never met Lily.

Wouldn't Jonathan prefer a universe, a Cecil Palmer, like that? ]

...Outcome? [ Cecil echos quietly, trying not to assume that the 'outcome' of this visit is going to be anything other than a lunch together, ending with Jonathan returning back to his own universe again, to continue trying to defeat his enemies and take over that world of his. And maybe visiting again, sometime. That doesn't seem like too much to hope for, at least. ] I thought you were just here to visit.

[zetabeamguy]

I guess that really remains to be seen.

[weirdatlast]

[ You're a big tease, Doctor Impossible. You're lucky you have a beautiful smile. ]

Oh? [ Cecil answers in a quiet question he doesn't really expect the answer to, isn't entirely sure he wants answered right now, anyway. ] ...Alright. [ It's a nice feeling. To hope, to have the luxury of hope, of time that isn't real or finite, of universes that are numerous and mostly impossible. His hand slips from Jonathan's arm to take his hand, and they're only a half a block from the diner by then, anyway.

The Moonlite All-Nite Diner is cold and dark inside, and not actually a diner. It's more like a crypt, if you had to compare it to anything, with stone seats and mossy hills, and moonlight painting white stripes across everything through dusty open stone windows. Which is strange. The moonlight. Considering it was a hot desert sun outside until just a moment ago.

But it is a diner in some ways. You can tell by the jukebox playing in the corner, and the straw dispensers on the stone tables that pull up in a spiral - you know the ones? You never even use a straw in your drink, but they have them in chrome dispensers on the tables anyway.

Cecil leads Jonathan to a corner booth and sits down, and he opens a menu even though he doesn't need it. Just for show. He gets the same thing every time, and the waitresses all know his order, anyway. ]

[zetabeamguy]

[ He's vaguely wondering if they should be doing that- the hand holding- because if he got his universes correct, there should still be a Carlos in this Night Vale.

But all that is quickly put out of his head because what the fuck even is this diner. ]

... What do you even get to eat here?

[weirdatlast]

[ Jonathan this is Night Vale. This is Cecil post-Haven, in Night Vale. If you don't think you're as much of a public celebrity as Carlos... If you think what's happening right now isn't literally going to be the second half of his show when he gets back... What are you thinking? ]

There is a menu, you know. It's typical diner fare, but it's not bad for the price. [ Cecil says looking over his own menu. ...It's that stone tablet on the table. Sorry. Maybe Cecil should have mentioned that. And he's pushing it towards Jonathan now, anyway. And Jonathan speaks Japanese and probably a hundred other languages so. Modified Sumerian's one of them, right? ]

[zetabeamguy]

[ He really, literally has no idea. ]

I'm beginning to realize that I haven't even scratched the surface of this town of yours.

[ Let's be real here... he probably does know the language. Or at least enough of it. He's just trying to figure out who the hell chisels a menu into stone tablets in Sumerian of all things, and why.

He's also a little dubious on Cecil's definition of "typical diner fare", so he'll order the most innocuous-looking thing on the menu. ]

Is every place in town like this?