syldoran:
Welcome to Aunt Valerie
via SailorPtah on DeviantArt
Part of the Family Reunion premise.
Requested drabble for thepaperplaneofexistence
I haven’t watched TMSB in MANY A YEAR
—
When Cecil had said, “My aunt’s coming to visit this week,” Carlos’ first reaction had, initially, been one of alarm. Whether or not Night Vale was actually a sentient entity (something which the scientists had not been able to nail down quiet yet), its reactions to new outsiders seemed to vary. It had more or less welcomed Carlos with open arms (possibly due to Cecil’s vocal adoration), but others were treated with wariness or outright danger. Night Vale wasn’t a place one visited casually, simply put. Or seriously. (Carlos and his team non-withstanding.)
Cecil had dismissed those worries with a wave of his hand. “She’s still a Night Vale citizen, Carlos,” he had said, “and we always remember our own, even if they leave for some time.” This had simply instilled a different sort of alarm in Carlos, because he hadn’t actually planned on staying the rest of his life in a little desert town, but the thought had been lost to the whirlwind of another city-wide tragedy, and that was that.
Now, as he waited at the radio station while Cecil went off to find his wayward aunt, Carlos found himself uncharacteristically nervous. It wasn’t quite the same level as meeting his significant other’s parents, but Cecil clearly held his aunt in high regard and hoped that they would like each other.
At least, Carlos thought dryly, it was unlikely he had to worry about anyone being upset that their poor misguided child was dating a man. One of the few benefits of a love life in Night Vale.
The front door to the radio station swung open, sending the tiny bell attached into a frenzy of indignant squeals. Cecil entered first, grinning immediately upon seeing Carlos.
“There you are!” he exclaimed, sweeping in for a quick kiss and giving Carlos only a quick glimpse of clashing color standing in the doorway. When Cecil pulled away, still smiling, he went back to the woman in the doorway.
Cecil’s aunt was dressed, by Night Vale standards, perfectly normal, bedecked in a shockingly purple knee-length dress that was dotted with dozens of stars that glittered as she moved. Her hair was an equally vivid orange, coiled into wild curls and tied back, and earrings of stylized purple eyes dangled from her lobes.
Carlos blinked, while long-repressed childhood memories began beating at the bars of their metaphorical cage.
“Carlos, this is my aunt Valerie,” Cecil said, guiding the woman forward with a theatrical sweep of his arm.
Carlos blinked again. “Ms. Frizzle?” he said, numbly.
Valerie grinned. “Is it really little Carlos Ramon?” she asked, hands on her hips. “Well, I’ll be. When Cecil told me he met a nice Carlos, I had to wonder, but, well, imagine that. I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised you made I all the way to this little town, of all of them.”
“You know each other?” Cecil asked, visibly stunned.
“You’re related to my third-grade teacher.”
“Oh! Well, that makes things a little easier, doesn’t it?” Cecil didn’t seem too upset by the revelation.
There was a beat of silence, before Carlos’ repressed memories made their way up with startling and ferocious speed and his brain made the obvious connection.
“Oh my god,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “This explains so much.”