[NOVEMBER LOG] They talked because they could

[lasthumanvoice]

Who: Cecil and Gerry; Also Cecil and You?
When: Ugh, Scorpio season.
Summary: Lot 37; Library Visit; Something cute because I deserve it.
Warnings: Possible discussion of coercion and fears?

1. Then One Night [Closed to Gerry]
Cecil is sitting near the fountain in Festival Green when Gerry catches up to him, working on editing an article, a scowl on his face. Someone is quite aware Lot 37 has been sold. Someone is braced to be used at any moment.


2. He Was Nowhere to be Found [Open - Greymare Library]
Now, living where he does, right by Town Hall and the Clock Tower means that Cecil's home is also right beside the Library. In Night Vale, the Library was a place of grave danger, the Librarians violent and prone to attacking anyone who desired to read. Here, he's been reassured that's not the case. Regardless, though, there is a caution written on his expressive face as he walks with mincing steps toward the shelves, a look of awe on his face.

Perhaps you're also here to read, or you're the kind of jackass who'd sneak up behind someone who's clearly already on alert and scare them. Either way, here, have a Cecil.


3. Under the Starlight [Open - Outside somewhere]
There is a pile of leaves someone's raked up. Cecil has noticed this pile. It's tall and thick and looks awfully soft. And with a glance left, a glance right, and a broad grin, he's going to take a running leap into the pile, because at heart he's still a little juvenile.

Come join him, or maybe admonish him for ruining someone's hard work.


4. Vanishing Without a Sound [Wildcard]
Find me on discord or plurk at darkersolstice if you wanna discuss.

Comments

Under the Starlight

[batteryacid]

When Cecil looks up from his leaf-pile leap, he'll see Eddie looking in at him. There's a bemused expression on Eddie's face, but no scolding is forthcoming.

"Enjoying yourself, Comrade Cecil?"

[lasthumanvoice]

“Immensely so, Comrade Eddie. There is room, if you should care to join me.” Leave rustle as Cecil turns to face Eddie with a grin.

[batteryacid]

"With my luck, a running leap would throw out my back, but..." Eddie moves to a clear space beside the leaf pile and then flops backward into it, sending up a colorful spray of autumnal leaves. "Join you I shall."

Eddie gives a little sigh. "Been a while since I just... did something like this for the fun of it. S'nice."

[lasthumanvoice]

Cecil picks up a handful of leaves, throwing the upward so the flutter down onto Eddie.

“You’ve got to, though. When a place is prone to so much drama and stress, when the future is uncertain and the present is a mess? You need to take time to find joy, somehow. Otherwise, you’ll end up even more broken when the next disaster hits.”

He sounds like he’s speaking from experience.

[batteryacid]

"I do find joy in my work," Eddie observes, "in making things a little less uncertain by increasing the food supply. But I take your point, I think. Joy for the sake of joy?"

Eddie tosses a handful of leaves back toward Cecil, with a soft laugh.

He Was Nowhere to be Found

[restingslasherface]

Ultra-violent librarians prone to attacking anyone that tries to read? Well this sounds -

"Comrade Cecil!"

Where did Jean come from? Don't worry about it. What are they holding? Books on seaweed!

[lasthumanvoice]

Have you ever seen a startled cat leap three feet straight up into the air with a yowl? Cecil does a human version of that. Yes, with a yowl.

[restingslasherface]

Ahhh, the sweet kiss of nostalgia. Jean looks fondly pleased. "You have impressive vertical clearance, Comrade! That has to come in handy, hahahaha, ha, hahaha...ha...actually yeah it probably does..." They brighten up again. "Is this a bad time?"

[lasthumanvoice]

“A…bad time for what, exactly? I think it would be a horrible time for me to be carrying hot liquids, for example. I would end up scalded for certain!” He turns to face them, still a little frazzled.

Then One Night

[skeletonkeay]

Gerry has been around half the town looking for Cecil, a cloud of anger looming over him about what happened with Jon the entire time. What he wouldn't give for a goddamn cell phone.

Finally, though, he finds Cecil hard at work at the fountain and some of his gloom dissipates at the sight of the other man, like the ray of sunshine he is. Though at the moment, Cecil doesn't seem in a particularly good mood. Maybe some good news will help.

He jogs over, soles of his heavy black boots clapping loudly when they begin making contact with the cobblestone. "Cecil!"

[lasthumanvoice]

"Gerry!" He looks up and his smile blossoms like the desert sun coming up over the flat landscape that absolutely doesn't have any mountains, mountains aren't real.

[skeletonkeay]

"Hey!" He jogs up, out of breath already due to his constant smoking, but he's far too eager to let it bother him. Cecil's warm smile had already chased away the rest of his bad mood.

When he comes to a stop, he begins fishing around in his pockets. "I found it. It took some doing to get the last owner to fork it over but---" Proudly, he produces the paper. Lot 37. He hands it to Cecil. "There you go. I came straight here with it."

[lasthumanvoice]

Cecil looks uncertainly at the paper, reaching out carefully as if not wholly convinced Gerry's just going to hand it over.

"What did it cost you?"

He Was Nowhere to be Found

[lovinglefthand]

Well, First Aid isn't going to be wandering around deliberately startling people...But he's rather taken with the library himself, and he might not be paying all that close attention to the other patrons as he studies his options. If somebody turns around suddenly and is startled by a seven foot tall, bright red and white suit of armor chilling nearby, that's not technically his fault...is it?

[lasthumanvoice]

There is a flailing and a yelp and eventually, off-balance, Cecil falls down. It's not fear of the metalman himself, per se, it's him suddenly being there and big and unfamiliar.

"Gah!"

Real articulate, Cecil.

[lovinglefthand]

"What??"

First Aid whirls around, forgetting himself far enough that he looks around at his own eye level before remembering to look down. "Oh dear..."

He hurries over to Cecil, extending his hand. "Are you right? What happened?"

[lasthumanvoice]

"Oh! Wait, sorry, I retract that 'gah!', you're clearly not a threat." Cecil picks himself up off the floor, wide-eyed gaze remaining on First Aid.

He Was Nowhere To Be Found

[deaths_head]

The Shade was looking for some art and history books at the library. He still had his magic promised to Nieve, and her windchime alarm idea she'd posed some time back--the pan flute notion stuck in his head, and he was considering some ways to dress it up.

Ways that weren't so...morbid. He doesn't like how aware he is, falling prey to the emotions of the living, of the fact that he is cursed with a bit of a warped sense of style. He's also a little stifled, he reckons, not being able to ply the trade that comes to him so naturally.

Not his godhood, but seeing to the needs of the dead.

He's leafing through a book showing off some actual singing statuary he's enjoying when he catches the overly cautious movement out of the corner of his eye. Poor kid looks fit to jump out of his skin, but those eyes are so wide he could swallow up a dozen books just by setting his gaze on them.

Quietly, but audibly, the Shade clears his throat to try and get the kid's attention without giving him a damn heart attack.

"These books ain't gonna bite if you wanna have a look, son." he points out quietly, gesturing with the open book in his own hands. "Trust me, only library you gotta be afraid of's in Hell, and it's in Lucifer's private study. He likes his literature with actual teeth. These got none."

He even goes so far as to shut his book with a finger to mark his place, again putting it on display.

See, kid? No blood, no screaming. Perfectly safe. Try it! It's fun!

[lasthumanvoice]

"The books are not the only potential danger in a library. There are also, presumably, librarians. Where I'm from, librarian attacks can be deadly to the unprepared man."

The 'kid' is a grown man, one who seems to be full of frenetic energy and chaos and fear. His face is so, so very animated and expressive, almost cartoonishly so, and his voice is like the best warm grilled cheese sandwich, comforting and yet crisp. So crisp, his enunciation.

He steps closer, though, slowly and uncertainly, braced to run.

[deaths_head]

The Shade blinks as the young man speaks. His voice fleetingly brings Michael to mind—arrogant son of a bitch, just like all them archangels. Well, except for Angelica most days…regardless, Michael’s voice was only slightly deeper.

It’s impressive.

“Well I been here for a while, and worst I’ve seen from the librarians is a couple dirty looks and some shushing.” The Shade assures him with a wink. “Stick with me—anyone attacks? I’m a big sumbitch with long arms.”

Reaching for the shelf, he runs a finger along the spines of the books and finds a mythology book he’s read before. Pulling it down, he offers it to the kid.

“Pull up a chair. Soak up a little knowledge. Ain’t nobody gonna hurt you, son.”

[lasthumanvoice]

Cecil considers the offer and the Shade as a whole for a moment, before accepting the offered book.

"Given the nature of this town and its curses, eventually something will hurt me. Maybe not here and now, but soon enough. There is no true safety to be promised on this island. Though it is kind of you to give reassurances, regardless."

Vanishing Without a Sound

[i_didnt_mean_to]

Agent Jean was so excited when Mary started musing on how to build an early form of radio receiver. These are not very powerful, but knowledge about the kind of radio that uses vacuum tubes is beyond Mary -- even if, in her world, such technology existed back in the 1920s.

The other problem is a bunch of radio receivers are useless without a radio transmitter. Not a problem in the United States of the 1970s, when Mary was a child. A big problem here on Marrow Isle where they don't even have the rudimentary technology. At least the existence of telephones meant things like carbon transmitters.

Mary has been racking her brains for the information and poring through books at the library trying to find equivalent technologies for the spark-gap transmitter and arc converter. And she hasn't even gotten up to the mines yet to check what kind of materials they are pulling up from the earth.

She did as she said she would, though, and spoke to Gerry about finding Cecil "for the radio project". So now, here she is -- on Cecil's front doorstep, a notebook tucked under one arm, and using her whole other forearm to pound on his door (in order to make enough noise to be heard, not because she's angry or anything).

Maybe he won't know anything. But maybe he knows something. She can't keep going in circles like she has been.

{OOC: Let's see we need... carbon cathodes, copper anodes, and hydrogen gas for the transmitter, and crystals like lead sulfite, iron pyrite, and carborundum for the receiver and do I have the right to say that's what's in the mines, no!}

[lasthumanvoice]

Cecil opens the door, looks out, then looks down. Okay, she has a notebook, he's going to take her just as seriously as he would Tamika Flynn, that seems a safe choice. People who carry notebooks and writing utensils are dangerous, but not usually for him.

"Good afternoon. Can I help you?"

[i_didnt_mean_to]

"I hope so, Mister Palmer." Mary answers. (It's her natural voice, because she was told to be nice. She's even revised her phrasing from "I need to pick your brains about radio".)

She says, "I was... assigned to the radio project because of my knowledge on constructing receivers, but I need help in a few other areas -- talking to people and figuring out the transmitters. And my research partner is out at sea."

[lasthumanvoice]

"By whom you mean Agent Comrade Jean." A nod. "I'll be honest, I know nothing about making radios work. I only really know how to operate them once they exist. But I am, in fact, very good at that part."