entrancelogs | [OPEN] Like the echos in your mind you try to leave them all behind...

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[OPEN] Like the echos in your mind you try to leave them all behind...

Who: Philip (

radiopalkiller ) & OPEN
Where: A nightmare! That country whose name he doesn't remember anymore! The mines!
When: 3rd to 7th of October, aka. event time (with bonus thread for the week after)
Rating: PG-13 and neighbouring ratings
Summary: Home sweet home! ...Sort of.
The Story:
[ OOC INFO: Open to all, prose and comment spam welcome. Here is a summary of all the days:

#1: Philip will wander the tunnels aimlessly and try to process that he's actually stuck in his own event.
#2: Philip will wander the tunnels deliberately, make a tentative transmission and spend most of the time murdering dogs with zest and That Unsettling Little Spark (TM) in his eyes.
#3: Philip will casually look for tools and spend most of the day sitting by the lake.
#4: Philip will get impatient, look for tools in many more places and gather supplies to make a huge bomb which he hopes will blow open the door to the incinerator, the path he knows leads to the last part of the mines.
#5: A brief public service announcement, followed by broken sobs.]

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"Yeah...it does all look like it hasn't been used in awhile. All the dust and cobwebs."

It's eerie, to say the least, even by Cecil's extremely high standards.

He perks up at the subject change, not noticing that Phillip clearly doesn't want to talk about the mines anymore.

"Oh, I have a radio show back home. 'Welcome to Night Vale.' It's pretty much the same as the one I do here--news, PSAs, local gossip, weather, all that good stuff. It's important to keep people informed about what's going on. Otherwise they'd never know what to panic about."

Philip would be flattered, he supposes, if he knew the exquisite standards of eeriness his memories were living up to. And they didn't even run into the portals yet, let alone any of the exploding ketchup, or disembodied voices (though for some reason he just can't bring himself to be especially broken up about that).

He laughs out loud, and the echo along the concrete tunnels promptly reminds him that he really shouldn't have laughed out loud. They'd never know what to panic about, come on, that's a good one though.

Still, he stops in his tracks, just in case. They don't always growl outright, actually it's usually to late once they do, but their paws, their claws always make that clacking sound on the floor, just enough to hear them coming, if you try. Philip tries. And hears nothing. Whew.

"Anything good to panic about in Wonderland lately? Other than this, I mean?"

Cecil stops short at the laughter, surprised at the way it echoes. Sounds do funny things underground, even moreso when you're already afraid. He stands still and keeps quiet, listening for any sigh of approach. The spiders don't make much sound and like to leap out of walls.

But for now, there's nothing coming. Cecil breathes again. Breathing, there's a funny thing.

"Hm, only the usual things. The endlessness of the void, the insignificance of mere existence, the mirrors, the inevitability of death..."

Better that echo than the ominous whispers leaking through the rocks when it's too quiet to hear anything else. Didn't surprise Philip one bit when he first found out about the miners going mad down here. The inevitability of death. Yep, that's about the end of that laugh.

"Cheerful," Philip mumbles and clears his throat. "Hey, erm, anyone in particular you're trying to find?"

Probably not the best sequitur from inevitable death, but he's been wondering. Took a while for it to cross his mind, because there weren't any others in the tunnels the first time around; but since there obviously are, well, some of those he could stand seeing more than others. Some of those he'd want to make sure are all right.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm looking for Carlos. He's a scientist with perfect hair and plenty of weekend lab coats. You haven't seen him, have you?"

There are others, but it's Carlos he's most worried about. The last time Carlos was even remotely underground, he almost died. Cecil tries to keep an upbeat attitude, tries to stay positive about these things, but...it's Carlos. He really can't help it.

"Uhhh... sorry."

Scientist, huh? Better hope those tunnels really end where Philip thinks they end, otherwise that Carlos might've had an unpleasant encounter with a few fellow academics (or zombie versions thereof) further into the mines.

"Sorry, no, you're... you're actually the first person I've seen down here."

"Ah...that's alright. It's a big place. I'm sure wherever he is, he's fine!"

He is Carlos, after all. He's survived Night Vale all this time; he can survive a few tunnels.

Cecil hopes, anyway.

"Yeah..."

Maybe that much could be said with more conviction, but in Philip's defence, it is kinda tough to put some good acting into a piece of reassurance, when you're distracted by compiling a list of everything capable of killing, maiming or traumatising you down in these tunnels.

And in just that moment Cecil's voice plays in Philip's head again, the answers he gave, that Carlos, and the entirety of their encounter making Philip feel that sharp pang of guilt over holding back, over revealing nowhere near as much as he could, and letting people go blind, forcing them through the same uncertainty he once suffered from, when he could ease that burden on them so easily, with just a few words, with something as simple as the truth.

And just in the moment after that Philip realises that it is high time for him to abscond, before he actually starts thinking that fessing up would be a good idea.

"Erm, hey. Hey, look over here!"

Philip points at a heavy door just in front of them, and nods at the wooden sign than hangs haphazardly on the wall next to it. STORAGE.

"Think that looks promising?"

But he's already stepped ahead, and reached for the latch on the door. The metal is cold in his hand, and Philip thinks back. Still one of the safer places he remembers, at least if that door works this time. Otherwise the only other access is through a set of spider-infested tunnels, and that's a revisit Philip could genuinely do without.

"He's very brave, my Carlos. He's probably helping people right this..." Cecil trails off and looks off down the tunnel behind them. "Did you hear that...?"

Hmm. Maybe he just imagined it, but he thought he heard something growl. He's still watching the tunnel when Phillip heads for door.

"Ah, wait!" He trots after Phillip, still casting worried glances over his shoulder. "Yeah, we might want to hide for a little while..."

Philip and imaginary sounds, that's another troubling love story right there. Actually, anybody and imaginary sounds is like a huge beacon for trouble, so it's probably a good thing Cecil leaves that conclusion unspoken, and an even better thing that Philip is still busy basking in relief, when he pulls at the door and its huge, metallic frame budges.

He pulls on it further, holds it open, and looks back.

"Did I what?"

Wait.

"Did I hear...?"

That... that can't be good, can it?

Cecil looks over his shoulder again, worried. "Maybe...maybe we should get in there first...? I thought I heard growling."

There it comes again. Low and quiet, from around a corner.

"Probably not plastic bags this time..."

"Plastic b--"

Actually, never mind that now, purchase-related receptacle or not, Philip can definitely hear that growl now, and what's more, he can see a set of yellow lights lurking just at the edge of darkness, knowing perfectly well what will emerge along with them in a second.

"Right, get in. Get in, hurry."

He hastily motions Cecil forward, still holding the door, quickly gripping his pickaxe tighter.

Cecil doesn't need to be told twice. He darts into the safety of the room, not even bothering to look back to see what's coming. There's a snarl from the darkness and the clicking of nails on concrete.

Definitely not plastic bags.

There's also the sound of a metal door decisively slamming shut behind Cecil, and there is also--

"I'll catch up!"

--also that, and a decided lack of Philip actually following the radio host into the storage room. Really, as far as rooms in this mine go that one easily ranks among the top five least likely to kill you immediately and painfully, so when Philip "deposits" Cecil in it, he feels that he's made a reasonable choice.

Granted, when the first dog charges towards him, and he finds himself speeding away down the corridor, off and far away into the distance, to never make good on his promise to catch up, he has to wonder if maybe, just maybe, there would have been a more straightforward, and less potentially deadly way of conveying that he would really like to split up.

(In a few months, maybe years, somebody will write a book about Philip's life. It will feature his journey from boy to man, and the decisions he faced, once confronted with the full extent of adulthood. It will over the most trying time in his life, the last chapter of his adventures. How he came to suffer painfully in body and mind, and how he eventually died painfully, down at the end of the road.

The title of that book will be

Well. It Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time.)

"Hey, wha--!" The door slams shut behind him and Cecil almost panics. Phillip is the only person he's seen down here in a good while, and if he gets slaughtered while Cecil is safe behind a door, he'd never forgive himself. He pounds on the door and even tries to open it. No luck.

"Phillip! Phillip, what are you doing?"

He listens at the door, intermittently shouting for Phillip. He doesn't hear any horrific sounds, so maybe...maybe Phillip got away? He said he'd catch up...maybe he's just leading the dogs away? Still, the door was right there, he could have just hidden with Cecil...

People in Wonderland make no sense.

Cecil waits and listens and calls for about an hour. Eventually, he has to assume the worst. Phillip is gone, one way or another. And Cecil can't stay here. He has to keep moving and hope he finds the people he's looking for--Phillip included.

He doesn't think he has ever missed Night Vale more.

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[OPEN] Like the echos in your mind you try to leave them all behind...

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