[While traveling hadn't been fun and Sora had gotten strangely disoriented while he was headed for the aquarium--and he could have sworn he'd seen Heartless around--he seems to be in decent enough spirits when he comes over the network.

He's got his device propped up on something as he sits in the midst of all of his gear, sorting through it and attempting to condense as much as possible. (And if the watery light effects are any indication, he's camping out in the aquarium for right now.)]

Hey guys! For those that don't know me, I'm Sora! I contacted a bunch of people that are exploring the entrance area but I wanted to make this sort of public since I want to help as many people as possible.

[Tucking a few more things into his backpack, Sora focuses on his device.]

I'm going to be doing supply runs for everyone in the entrance area. If there's anything you guys need or want me to try and find, I'm going to be heading up towards the school tomorrow! I'm also more than willing to deliver things if you have something for someone else!

[Because he's determined to wear himself out apparently.]

Just let me know and I'll do my best to get stuff to people. I think the school is going to be the main drop point for things but I really don't mind having to go further to get to people.

[His smile is a sincere one..before it fades a bit into a thoughtful look.]

Has...did anyone..see any weird creatures today? Not anomalies! They sort of look the same, I guess, but..I thought I saw some of the creatures from my world when I was heading here earlier.

Characters: The Cat and Bucky
Location I3
Date: Day 149, afternoon
Summary: Bucky is seeing hallucinations and the cat reassures him. It's not reassuring.
Warnings: None yet

( Read more... )

Characters: Cecil and Steve
Location T10 - 115
Date: Day 148; Noon
Summary: Steve comes in to shelter from the cold and finds a radio host
Warnings: General Night Vale weirdness.

( Read more... )

Good evening, Listeners.

[After a long day of hallucination and inclement weather, what could be more relaxing than the soothing tones of the local radio host? Except there's the sound of crunching snow in the background, as if Cecil is still walking around even though lockdown was fifteen minutes ago. Which is because he is.]

I hope you all paid attention to the very informative weather report given to us by that talented pianist and meteorologist the other day! It's come in as snow with a crop of lightly undulating arms half buried beneath the powdery fall just as he predicted it would. And with so much advance warning, on a night such as this when the sky opens above us in an endless chasm of black void, there are only a few places we could be.

Where are you, Listeners?

Are you in one of the few homes with working heating, settling in for the night in an air of smug superiority and personal achievement, or perhaps you are curled in the centre of a pile of bodies in a selfish attempt to steal whatever heat they possess and absorb it for yourself? Or, I am sure, there are some listeners out there who are alone and locked in a drafty house, able only to watch their breath puff into crystallised reminders of their body's frailty.

Or are you like me, dear Listeners?

Experiencing the early stages of a government approved death. Trapped out in a world that changes once the sun has gone down, where the pristine fields of white become ghostly mirages of safety, and where the comforting solidity of a house is nothing but a locked box for which you have mislaid the key. Probably in a safe place, these things are always in safe places, am I right? Are you walking with an aimless tread in a directionless meander, driven onwards to keep moving even in futility by the vague hope that somehow you will be saved, to a path that will still lead, inevitably, to the destination of your grave?

[His voice is still smooth and calming, even though his teeth can be heard chattering in the silences between words, between heartbeats.]

I've seen a lot of complaining recently, Listeners, and that's just not a good thing. This is our community, and we owe it better. After all, the people are the heart of any town, the pulsating and secretly messy heart of secrets and friendship and rivalry. If we don't love our community and help it be a better place, then doesn't that just breed a heart that beats to the tune of destruction and pain? Have you ever thought that maybe your own negative attitudes are why Norfinbury is so inhospitable? Shame on you, Listeners, shame on you all. Maybe try and lighten your mood a little to rectify what you can? Light some scented candles if you can find any, break open a fresh can of mysterious brown meat, or pamper yourself with a loud screaming run away from hideous and bloodthirsty anomalies. You know what they say about exercise and endorphins, after all!

[There's the sudden sound of a loud crunch as Cecil loses his balance, legs too numb to carry him further, and falls over into the snow. His voice is quieter and a little slurred.]

I will let you in on a secret, Listeners, I applied for a job as the official community radio host here. I hope that if they hire a host, that will prompt them into building a studio and a radio tower. Nobody likes to be paying wages for nothing, right? But I've had no answer, so perhaps they don't realise just how much the community needs a radio. Perhaps if we all think loudly, in unison, then they'll hear our plea. So, if you would, think about peaches. About their soft flesh hidden beneath a velvety skin, about their sticky juices and the pit within. Think hard about peaches, for the future of our community radio depends on it.

Stay tuned next for the sound of the human body going into shock, the slow and declining breathing of a dying man, and finally the stillness of a death that awaits us all.

Goodnight, Norfinbury. Goodnight.