#Vale stuff

[shellyscribbles]

Happy WBW! ^^ If you could bring one thing/person/place/etc. from your wip into the real world, which one would it be and why?

I thought this was an easy answer, but the more I think about it, it's actually really hard to pick.

My first thought is Zuriel just cause he has been a favorite character of mine for years, but I'd also hate to take him from Aila.

I think maybe Nydia, the subrealm Aila made with Kyra. It'd be a neat hide away with really interesting plants and buildings. A place made with the goal of it being as beautiful and peaceful as possible to bring Kyra back from the darkest despair. By it's nature it would just be so restorative.

So yeah, I think Nydia would be it.

[wraithwen]

pre-blackwater

[bulkhummus]

I have somewhat always held the belief that Night Vale only exists because Cecil is there to tell its story, and time only started moving again because Cecil developed a true personal life. What I'm thinking about now, in relation to these two things, is what was the cause for Leonard Burton's death / retirement?

Night Vale always plays around with story verses perspective/context. One version of a story is not more true than the other because we are all individuals experiencing different things. We have seen different universes, different timelines and ages, and townspeople telling the same story differently. The way Cecil interprets things is going to be different than the way Leonard Burton interprets things.

The news is effected by whoever tells it, and that quite literally can change the course and outcome of things in Night Vale, therefore the town is effected by its voice. In return, the town does things that affects its voice, and keep's their job relevant.

Throughout the show, there have been instances of the town beckoning outsiders to its borders, inviting them in. A radio channel that used to just be static. A pamphlet that appears one day with the mail. A pinpoint on a map that hadn't been there when you got out of the car at a rest stop. A door that appears. In some way or another, Night Vale selects people to show itself to. I even hold the belief that one of those outsiders was Carlos himself.

The town is a place that inevitably draws people in like a starving predator, only to trap them in its inescapable grasp. It needs stories. It needs people. A place that never existed and always exists, with people who have always been there in some way or another, removed from time itself, is starved for change.

Not to mention, that the only way someone can leave at all is if they die, and that has only been a recent development due to time starting up again. It makes one wonder if Cecil, who has been alone for so very long, abandoned by his father, his mother, distant from his only sibling and left behind for a year by the love of his life, has some kind of pull in the towns ability to keep people there.

In the very first episode of Welcome to Night Vale, a new man comes to town and fundamentally changes Cecil and the way the town operates. Things change. Right off the bat. As his personal life developed with a relationship, a son, with his sister and Steve, Cecil clumsily, and with a lack of privacy, inserted his own life into the narrative of the town right around the time that time itself started to move forward.

It makes one wonder if Cecil, who has been alone for so very long, has some kind of pull in the towns ability to keep people there and with him. If Cecil sees that someone is headed for the edge of town, all he has to do is report that the roads are closed. He can escape the Whispering Forest because he has to pick his son up from the babysitter. He can make sure Carlos survives in the Bowling Alley. If Carlos wanted to stay to work in a Desert Otherworld for a whole year, out of reach and out of sight, then he would not be allowed back until he truly made up his mind to be a part of Night Vale.

In fact one of the few people who leave town, is a young intern named Viktor, who does end up returning, way older than Cecil himself before he passes. This is notable, because the episode is titled "To the Friends and Family Of" which is in reference to each time an intern dies. Odd that leaving and death are equated to the same thing in Cecil's mind. Odd that the one intern Cecil felt could take on the position of the voice of Night Vale is capable of leaving. I think somebody that has no control of people moving and an out of his life would want to remain the narrator of the story for as long as possible.

So, if all narration can of course be connected to Cecil, as Cecil is inherently part of the narrative and the way it's told, literally and figuratively, what does that mean for Leonard?

Leonard, who we meet for the first time, as the original voice of Night Vale who is filling in for Cecil. He's playing selected tapes of his choosing, two of which detail him as having gone into retirement, and him as having been hit and killed by a cargo truck.

The embodiment of his character is a strong and profound connection to the past and nostalgia for what was. Of time remaining still. Of things always shifting but remaining the same in their little town on the edge of nothing. Of the present and future being too uncertain (world wards, death, etc) to ponder and think about.

Fast forward to now, episode 264, the company with a labyrinth logo and the cargo trucks and the crates. Leonard says-

Whatever it is these people, this "They", whom I bet are the people that killed Leonard, are having him say things that they do not trust Cecil to, especially after his mistrust in the previous episode when talking about and expressing worry for Steve.

The story is told from Cecil's pov, sure, but the town, the 'they', never accounted for this predetermined voice post Leonard Burton, to develop a life outside of his radio station booth. They picked a voice who, in Leonard's words, would crave more of the same. They picked the saddest loneliest person in Night Vale that was capable of shutting out the things that hurt and seemed strange. Cecil's job was his life before he had one, and he longed to keep things how they were like a preserved sandbox.

Cecil was never meant to be more than the voice of Night Vale. He wasn't supposed to be a part of it. The town saw (and sees) Carlos as a threat, because of what he was doing to an otherwise perfect narrator. The town showed Carlos the literal door and it wasn't until Cecil was seriously ready to leave did the town back track and allow Carlos to come back. They knew allowing Carlos back would keep Cecil in town.

So this begs the question. What was it that determined Leonard would be removed from his post? Was it just an accident? What is because he suddenly had a family of his own (in reference to him saying he retired to be understand what it means to be a family)? Did he stop pushing an agenda just as he have seen Cecil begin to do less and less of himself?

Anyways those are my thoughts and theories for funsies!

[pencagil]

paying my respects to the patron saints of shipping and fandom culture

[dreampoliced]

getting into welcome to night vale 13 years late is such a surreal experience like wow blast from the fucking past here

[moonshynecybin]

The Marquez family dynamics is like crack to my brain i think about it way to much. Like you've got marc and Alex the most codependent siblings to ever live who shared a bedroom until they moved out of their family home in their 20s just to move in with eachother. From some stuff I've seen Julia and Roser divorced (I have no clue when) they are always following marc and Alex's careers and are very involved and Marc and Alex both speak really highly of them but sometimes I look at how marc and Alex are and some stuff in old articles and go there childhood was definitely not all sunshine and rainbows and happiness and Marc's talked in the past about how he was raised by his grandfather cause his parents always worked but them the economic crisis in Spain made a teenage marc the main money bringer in the family with is crazy. Like Marc and Alex are closer than a lot of twins even are and Marc is like a father figure/brother role and Alex is one of the only people in the world that probably knows Marc's inner thoughts. Like I'm constantly thinking about his post for marc when he left Honda and the stuff he must have seen marc go through in those injury years. And the stories about Marc's injury in 2011 where marc was apparently the most calm one and was the one calming his parents down is crazy to me like 18 years old possible career ending injury and he's the one with the most level head. This got so much longer than I expected.

no i agree its one of those things where even if your parents arent absent or abusive per seee, it also doesnt mean that they are like perfect parents who leave you baggage free. and i think marc and alex CERTAINLYYYY have parental baggage lol

[benyablinkakaeto]

[sheridanvale]

Sometimes I get really into the zone while writing and end up being unable to stop myself and then the next thing I know I've written 10k words in a few hours and it just feels like this

It's like I'm possessed I can't help it I'm not even doing anything at that point I'm at the mercy of my creative mind

[batsplat]

Please feed the starving nasses the vale/jlo lore

they were made 2 be teammates

[3llatricks]

“A town home to dirt, grass and half a mall, where the bakery sales simulate war, where dance competitions are life or death, where six chickens, a horse, and a teenager make a farm. Welcome, to Sugar Springs.”

Hello, Tumblr! Welcome To Sugar Springs is a NightVale inspired fanfiction following a young man named Nox who moved into this strange new town. Why is it that the Radio Host seems to know what's going on at all times? What's wrong with the dog park? Why are all the residents just a little bit off?

Tune in to Archive of Our Own to answer these questions! ...if you don't earn more questions instead.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65653087

[ray935sworld]

Was thinking about what retired motogp riders might do with all their time and I genuinely believe that Casey is working a normal every day job as a mechanic or smth like that in the back of some Australian motorbike workshop where he just happily repairs bikes and occasionally gossips with the customers

[fluctuating-fanby]

Screaming crying sobbing about WTNV 246 and Abby Carlsberg-Palmer

[moonshynecybin]

are u going to continue ur same age kissing lesson au....

hell yeah why not. part one here! i might add the actual sex scene later we shall seeeee but for now here's more teen drinking and weirdo flirting and marc hurting vale's feelings and having literally no idea that he is doing that whatsoever. oh and also him being a ROMANTIC !

It doesn’t happen again for long enough that Marc would think he imagined it, if not for the stain on his sneakers.

Time passes, and the bike is smooth for Marc, and they trade wins. They don’t talk much— but it always comes back around. There’s not much for hiding, traveling all together like this, and Marc knows that Vale at least likes him most of the time.

He taps on his window again at Catalunya, the last race of the European season. Marc’s slightly up on him in the standings, so he should really sit tight, get some good sleep. Think about his lap times and his grandpa, who is coming to watch him race.

He slips on his green soled shoes and lets himself out, instead. He also knows that he won’t get a chance like this again for a while.

“It’s your last race in Europe in 250cc,” Vale throws an arm over Marc’s shoulder as they walk out towards the pitlane, something he does when he wants Marc to know that he is bigger than him. Vale probably doesn't know that Marc doesn't mind. “Are you going to miss me?”

Sometimes, when Vale sits behind him during a race and flashes his front wheel on Marc’s side, swapping places up and down the track, it reminds Marc of that night, and the rhythm of their mouths. It's not too dissimilar, he thinks, the push-pull of it. The give and take. Almost a conversation, but not quite. That, he thinks he will definitely miss.

“What? All over my back tire?” He shakes his head until Vale makes a face at him. “You will be up with me soon enough, I won’t have enough time to miss you.”

With a huff of breath Vale lets him go, apparently satisfied with the shape of how the world looks at their feet, and gestures loosely to the chain link fence around the track. No words necessary. Marc goes first, the sole of his sneaker just slightly too big for the hole the twist of metal makes.

They scramble up and over the fence, Vale threatening to jump on Marc if he doesn’t catch the bottle he throws over to the other side, which Marc does smoothly. Marc doesn’t want to think about the faces that the Honda people would make, if they saw Marc out here doing this with Valentino. Well. They would probably make worse faces if they knew what else he wanted to do with Valentino.

“Besides,” Marc rolls the bottle over in his hand. Same brand. He shoots Vale a look as Vale smiles beatifically. “It’s not like you won’t be around.”

Vale hums noncommittally, then nods. 

“Hm, you will need to let me know about Honda, who is good, who is bad. That way, when I am your teammate I can keep all the good ones—” Marc starts to laugh, choking on his first mouthful of liquor. “—and you can have your side of the garage to test things for me.”

“You want me to spy for you?”

“Just for the year, you know. A man on the inside.” Vale nods, taking the bottle from Marc’s hand and sipping. “Uccio said no, so.”

“Well, if Uccio said no,” Marc says, a little mean, sprawling out on the grass with his legs apart. Vale gracefully collapses next to him. Marc considers, briefly, the concept of a marriage bed made of the grass on various general admissions area hills. He decides not to voice this thought. “What, and give away all my secrets?”

A wry smile. Marc blinks and for a second his hair is longer, brighter, platinum. The same expression on his face. He blinks again and it's back to its natural honey-dipped brown fuzz. Not the moon, anymore. 

Vale’s earring catches the light. Maybe the stars.

“You are right— I very much doubt you will give away any of your secrets.”

Marc pokes him with his foot, lies. “For you, I might.”

Vale looks over quizzically, so Marc continues.

“If you give me something, first.”

Vale grins slyly, then pretends to think. Like what? should be the next thing he says, Marc handing him the perfect bait. Instead, he says:

“Ha, I already gave you something.”

“What?” He frowns.

“So, Marc.” Vale thumbs the rim of the bottle at the place where Marc had put his mouth earlier. “Any more girls for you?”

He chokes. Laughs hard and fake. Ah, gave him that.

“Eh, okay. Hm, not yet.”

He never really got around to talking to those friends of his cousins.

“Why? Not enough practice?” Vales says, nice and bright, and Marc swallows. His throat is dry. Probably the alcohol.

Vale’s eyes glint, knife-bright.

It fills Marc up to the brim, this thing hanging between them like a sword. Dangerously, he thinks: they have before, they could again.

He shrugs. “I’m still busy. Maybe once the season ends, you know. Then I’ll have time to go and— study.”

“Ah, I see,” Vale nods his head in bitter, slightly condescending acquiescence, and Marc’s eyes narrow. He’s not sure what the game is, here. 

“Besides, I’ve practiced what? Kissing, once? Not that much else. And with girls— I can’t use much of it anyways, it doesn’t help me there.” Handjobs, he means. Marc’s touched a dick, but he’s never— fingered anyone. Gone down on them. Fucked them. 

Vale’s eyebrows furrow. He looks troubled. “With girls it is not so—”

Marc faces him, cutting him off.

“What. What is it like, with girls.”

A pause. He doesn’t think Vale was expecting Marc to be like this. Then Vale’s expression changes, morphs and dances from a frown to a smile like a drop of quicksilver. He leans closer, sleezy, charming. 

“What do you want to know, baby?”

Marc doesn't blink, meets him head on, seizes on the first thing to come to his mind and keeps his voice straight as an arrow. “Fingering.”

Surprised, Vale sputters a little. He asked.

“Marc, you—” The bright tinkle of an Italian laugh breaks the tension, and Vale throws his head back. He wipes his palms on his jeans then claps his hands together, and Marc’s heart kicks up.

“Fuck, you win, Jesus. Alright.” He stands. “Let's go.”

Marc frowns.

“What?”

Vale offers Marc the broad palm of his hand. Marc zeroes in on the blunt ends of his fingers. His ring.

“You don’t think I’m going to teach you how to finger someone out here on the grass beside turn one, do you?”

As if that stopped him last time.

Marc lets himself get pulled up.

[iconsfinder]

[sheridanvale]

Publishing is a longass process, and I'm thinking of starting a new WIP in the meantime. But even though I have a million ideas, I'm just feeling....uninspired....I'm pretty set on what book I want to write next (it matches thematically quite well with the one I'm querying rn) but...I'm afraid I'll burn out if I try to write right now ( ;´ - `;)

[shellyscribbles]

Reading over what I have of an outline for the 3rd draft of The Shadow of Vale and I think I fixed the beginning of the story. Looking back at it after a year of rest, it works much better than the other beginnings I gave it.