#the cavelands

[travelella]

Carter Caves State Resort Park, Caveland Drive, Olive Hill, Kentucky, USA

Tim Swinehart

[fanonical]

if cave johnson was a real walt disney knockoff, he wouldn’t just go to the moon, he’d build caveland on the moon and charge exorbitant prices to visit it

[swashbucklcr]

16, 23, 31

@chaoticbard | Questions for my Tav

16. Does your Tav help the mindflayer against Commander Zhalk or do they run straight to the helm?

Okay so Finn has a surprisingly high intelligence (and extremely low wisdom) and his high intelligence is mostly because he's quite tactical. When he sees that fucking huge flaming sword, all his thinks of how useful and valuable it is. So he asks the magic users (Shadowheart and Osian) if either of them has a way to disarm the commander and turns out Shadowheart was able to command him to drop it. Once he got the sword in his possession then he dipped the hell out of the crashing ship with Osian taking the helm (much to Finn's disgruntlement).

23. What's their opinion of Emerald Grove? Do they help the tieflings or side with the druids?

Finn hasn't met a druid until coming across the Grove and his first meeting with them trying to kick out the tieflings doesn't bode for a good first impression.

Considering a few of his old crew mates were tiefling who joined the ship, a couple boarded to escape unjust persecutions, he's leaning towards the tieflings instantly. Nettie trying to poison Osian doesn't cement a better view either.

One thing he likes from the Grove is one of the druids is willing to sell him a flintlock pistol and so Finn scourged up as much gold as possible to buy one.

But overall? He's 100% on the tieflings side and thinks Zevlor is pretty badass.

31. What does your Tav think of the Underdark and the Myconids?

The Underdark? Fucking loathes it. The only person likely to complain about it more than him would be Astarion. From open seas to co fined underground? Nothing he'd hate more.

Finn knows nothing about the Myconids when meeting them. Initially he wonders if they're edible cause they're fungi but since he works on the principle of "if you ain't threatening my team then I'll leave you be" so he's happy to hear them out. Although he will constantly mutter how "this fucking caveland is full of weird shit" while moving around their colony.

[444names]

dwarvish dictionary from the inheritance cycle + german forenames

Abrim Abrise Abrâthn Accobian Accol Acomer Actlisl Adega Adraker Alied Alver Amarnar Angen Anner Apouid Areye Artris Aschrowin Asonna Assesee Aughart Aximste Bacestbery Bahste Bargûno Barles Bartann Beadra Beake Beanne Bearhanna Beariana Bearm Beatell Beatim Beloth Bereak Beter Betive Bleally Blencal Blend Borimund Bried Brigecied Brizna Brudia Carcol Cardn Carhal Caris Carzûlest Caveland Cavese Chadorzûl Chiem Cieste Cithmalous Clacheint Clangh Clauke Cobeald Cobian Colany Couna Curlon Daght Daghte Darientere Darrgricke Diann Diger Dinave Dirme Distcard Dorekk Draled Dratippeck Drâgh Dwall Dwansus Dwarg Dwith Eader Eakild Ecity Ederd Edreal Egabin Egarnte Eirmes Eithrim Elharn Eminavoll Endratel Enger Engoottof Enkat Enolf Eress Eride Etana Eterfakert Eterint Eters Event Ewanike Fains Farmv Feinaloren Felmuttors Figer Filby Filhawk Filood Fisber Foolfz Foreda Forias Forre Foublia Fousebasch Fously Frevetip Frianik Frich Frike Friker Frind Frista Frithies Fronout Froundânû Gabla Gameader Gandars Garagdans Garbear Gaught Geban Gecien Gerimone Ghurzhal Gions Gisamln Gisbeoress Gishiesla Gisla Gismut Gistina Giver Gonth Gormer Gornht Gothardûm Grecharmn Greess Grelmunost Grenemesth Grich Griegreck Grika Grimilf Grist Gristhil Gualivalle Gáldolinn Gáldûm Gûrgert Hannelk Hapon Harmem Hasch Hatliny Heath Heitedarrg Heithund Heitz Helgat Hemarvesla Hemment Herenht Herimich Herne Hianne Hilor Himst Hivarta Holdese Holen Hrach Hrang Hrichose Hritert Hublory Hírnald Ilmulriv Imintral Imstim Ineell Iness Ingnien Innarrich Insla Isforter Isind Islan Istailf Jaccola Jacho Janne Jerthcall Joart Johaell Johanno Jondric Jonive Jorknurg Joseb Jostcard Jourlhirân Jousla Julike Juppati Juppend Jurla Jurlaf Jurlaff Jurlauhni Jurûnd Jörge Jörgodûm Kardardin Katters Keven Kilydian Kladelge Klauhn Kneck Knuritrut Knurt Knurtre Knurûg Knurûnount Kormar Kurln Kurlore Kílfild Lanem Leardth Lener Lerdt Liniamon Loricouell Lorine Lornahl Lotte Loughum Lound Loused Luntz Lütoman Maght Mainsum Maldem Malters Mandard Manne Maraz Maric Marind Marnde Marras Marrgûr Marrogen Marver Marûg Mathrosep Mayes Memmarldra Menam Menortop Menoutz Menteder Mereslard Mesters Mezzily Milfriv Milishir Millivalla Milvid Miniann Mitha Morse Mulayes Môghald Môghusly Môgrit Nahst Nahtene Naliedran Narmise Nehar Nermatja Nichinell Nicous-per Niengnho Nikontalf Nisep Nishef Nisminglie Noses Oenwardem Oladel Olfriselly Oltomper Ondânû Onemy Orans Orrana Orvlord Osertamom Othart Othel Othyn Pastgard Pecklev Plado Prich Priston Pritum Quivine Ragonterss Randraz Rangentonn Remme Rianledy Romed Ronde Rulestrand Sagod Sanners Sarharl Selga Shalwoner Shate Shein Sherithed Shied Shilf Shreath Shros Sidaline Sidera Sigich Singlesta Siniana Skilignh Skine Sking Smico Smire Stales Stalmar Stardn Stbert Steakinas Sthing Stholy Stomet Stvren Stvrrge Sulaf Sultear Surlhermn Svetiann Svrestosth Sylver Taffisel Terich Terth Thande Thardes Thgen Thouest Thren Tinall Tomaxener Tomel Torstond Tredt Triolf Trioutt Trudomene Tuagood Turlak Udward Ughterôth Uguise Ulaulans Ulrad Ulrius Ultran Unalikt Unber Undrisan Valors Vansga Verds Vlonose Vrein Vremain Vrete Vretentrad Waldrizna Wanca Warûnot Weacy Weapper Weard Weder Weina Werûnd Whail Wharass Wherenter Whermv Wight Wilded Wilothel Wilvar Winagrio Winda Winers Witurt Woneel Wonias Woreldes Worichred Worina Wormgrekk Worrief Woubeariem Ûdger

[kevin--of-desert-bluffs]

WTNV quick rundown - 118 - eGemony Part 2 "The Cavelands"

Co-written with Glen David Gold.

Read more here!

Time is irrelevant and imaginary, and yet somehow it seems we are out of it. Welcome to Night Vale.

Cecil had decided to personally go the the cavelands of the baristas (under the Ace Hardware store) to warn them about eGemony coming for the case of Canadian Club they took from under his desk.

Janice helps him into a Barista disguise, which includes furs and a thick moustache. Cecil seeminglessly blends into the barista community, travelling with them deep into the Cavelands. His disguise fails however when he doesn't know their anthem and he is approached by their King.

The King is wise, jovial and kind. Before they get to the booze, he wants to talk about Cecil's new sponsor (money) stating that money is cursed and that's why it's so attractive.

The King reveals that eGemony already sent a Street Team over 40 years ago and that they, the baristas, are what remains of that team. They took the case and shared a single bottle but upon drinking the soul of NV they became part of NV and knew they had to protect it. So they spent years serving NV back it's soul via shots of Canadian Club in espressos, making NV more full of itself than any other town.

However that doesn't mean that NV is safe. eGemony will continue trying to distill the soul of NV even if the case is gone, even using science to get to them.

This gives Cecil the idea to combat eGemony's science with more science.

Weather: "Glitter" by Charly Bliss

Janice knows a lot about which professions have monarchs and was able to do photo-realistic latte art (unlike Cecil who was not very good at it).

Stay tuned next for Adolescent X-Team Karate Bedbugs, the show your grandma thinks you like because she never understood you. Good night, Night Vale, Good Night. 

Proverb: Why would you want to think outside the box? The box is steel and locked and buried deeply underground. It's so safe here. Why would you want to leave?

[chelouvellou]

MAULWÜRFE live 2017 / indie moles from Caveland

[detournementsmineurs]

“Les Taupes" créées par Philippe Quesne pour le spectacle "La Nuit des Taupes / Welcome to Caveland" (2016) à l'exposition “Paris Animal. Histoire et Récits d'une Ville Vivante” au Pavillon de l'Arsenal, Paris, mai 2023.

[daikenkki]

The Wiggles - Caveland (2001)

[wtnvcrossword]

WTNV - Ep 118 - eGemony, Pt 2: “The Cavelands”

Across

2. What kind of facial feature did Cecil grow to complete his look before entering the cavelands?

4. What color were the eyes of the King of the Baristas?

8. To enter the cavelands Cecil donned what kind of spiky coffee hammer?

9. What kind of vest did Cecil wear to enter the cavelands?

11. Cecil cloaked himself in what kind of skins in order to enter the cavelands?

12. In the cavelands of the baristas, Eritrean pour over coffee drips gently from what kind of geological features?

14. What protusions did the King of the Baristas have on his head?

15. Janice and Cecil took an online course in making what kind of art?

17. What do baristas call their day labor jobs?

18. Cecil heard music from which musician as he entered the cavelands? (2 words)

Down

1. Cecil saw cuneiform style sketches of what coffee making item on the walls of the caves? (2 words)

3. The King revealed that the eGemony corporate prize contest and sweepstakes buzz marketing street team became what group of people in Night Vale?

5. Who was the most famous King of the Baristas? (2 words)

6. Ride sharing services have serpents wearing what kind of head ornaments as their leaders?

7. Cecil said it’s hard not to trust what kind of animal?

8. The King of the Baristas told Cecil that, “Money is ___! And of course everything that is ___ is attractive.”

9. The King of the Baristas wore necklaces made of tiny bird skulls and what kind of artificial sweetener packets?

10. In order to blend in Cecil made a joke to another barista in which he said, “Your mother is so tasteless, she orders her eggs” in which style?

13. Cecil believed that the entrance to the cavelands was under a crate behind which hardware store?

16. The new sponsor of Cecil’s show as declared by the King of the Baristas.

[cecilspeaks]

Episode 118 - eGemony, Part 2: “The Cavelands”

Time is irrelevant and imaginary. 

And yet, somehow it seems we are out of it. 

Welcome to Night Vale.

Listeners, I have just returned from an odyssey. As you know, a case of Canadian Club whiskey was hidden in Night Vale over 40 years ago as part of a contest. And now, e-gemonee… edge-meny, edge-meny, edgem- eedgemon- e- that tech startup wants it back, so they can drink it and thus drink the soul of Night Vale. It turns out that the alcohol was spirited away by – oh, ahaha, spirited, that’s a good one, Cecil… by baristas.

I knew I had to warn them before the corporate prize contest and sweepstakes buzz marketing street teams located them. But that would mean going to a place from which no one has ever returned: the remote Cavelands of the baristas, deep under the Earth, where (Eritrean pourover) drips gently from stalagmites and latte foam rivers froth and bubble in cool stone cracks. We’re all pretty sure the Cavelands are under that crate behind the Ace Hardware, but no one goes down there because of the stench of espresso and the chilling sounds of Carly Simon’s greatest hits CD.

The underground society of the baristas is an insular one, and no outsider has met their king. Did you know that baristas have a king? I mean I didn’t, but my niece Janice knows all about which professions have monarchs and which like mm, ride sharing services, only have serpents wearing crowns. Janice still has her barista costume from last year’s careers parade.

So in order to investigate the Cavelands, I cloaked myself carefully in the necessary animal skins, as Janice directed, and slung over my shoulders the ceremonial spiky coffee hammer and the sweater vest with the correct number of arm holes. Janice and I took a quick online course in latte art. Janice was great at it. She made a photorealistic aspledium nidus fern, and I uh, I made a, rock of some kind.

Janice said she knew exactly how to finish my disguise, and she was right. I regarded myself in the Ace Hardware window, and I knew I was meant for that boldest, unruliest, most outlaw of mustaches: the rolly fingers! The final touch of a true barista. Rolly Fingers was the most famous king in barista history, and now every barista grows a long thick mustache that swirls at the ends, just like the former king Rolly. From these curls, baristas often hang sweeteners and spoons for customer service.

I flexed all my facial muscles tight, and within minutes, I had finessed my new thick mustache into lovely coils. It was sunset, the time when all the baristas return to the Ace Hardware parking lot, from their day labor jobs, or as they call them, “gigs” throughout greater Night Vale.

My plan was to simply blend among them. Blend [chuckling] oh my god blend, oh Cecil you’ve done it again. And so one by one, I smiled and waved at them, and we teased each other with sprays of hot steam, as is the way of baristas at the end of a long day. There were 10 of us, then 15, then perhaps 20, then 30, then 40, then 100 baristas. Baristas as far as the eye can see. So many baristas, all laughing and scalding each other with joviality. Then a very tall barista, whose animal pelts were dusted in silver, looked at me with suspicion. I put her mind at ease by calling out one of their familiar jokes. “Your mother is so tasteless, she orders her eggs ristretto!” I cried. The barista’s hardened face softened into a laugh and she called out: “Time to ride!”

Our steeds made quick work of the steep mile and a half descent below Ace Hardware. I could hear the faint echoes of Norah Jones, as we passed cuneiform style sketches of French presses on the rocky walls. Once we were in the caves, by the lights of torches dipped in (pinch), the baristas ambled to their bed rolls, their knapsacks, their (bindles), and all around the cave, I could see them unwrapping and dusting off and (-) [0:07:41] their instruments. I saw harmonicas, violins, ocarinas, banjoes, mouth harps, mouth pianos, mouth banjoes, (lip scissors), and those who had nothing to play brought out pots and pans to keep time. And we began – to sing.

[singing] “I’m a-dreaming of someone whose love is so swee-ee-eet, [echoing] like (--) (cronut), 4000 fee-ee-eet, oh my perfect love gives me endless bli-i-iss, [another voice joining] never wants the wi-fi password without puur-chaa-a-ase I said he never asked for that wi-if password Without a puur-chaa-aase.”

And then, without warning, one of the baristas made a gesture and the rest fell silent. They were all looking at me, listeners.

“He doesn’t know our anthem!” she said. “No, I totally do,” I said. “I mean, I was definitely singing… something.” The baristas closed in on me. “Don’t talk to me til I’ve had my coffee! Amirite?” I pleaded.

From the back, I heard a quiet but authoritative snarl. “It’s Cecil!” The baristas parted, all of them, and in the silence, I heard the shuffling of leather shoes, and I was face to face with the king of the baristas.

Listeners, we are all made up of goodness and not-so-goodness. We have conflicting impulses and we struggle to do right. We care to a lesser or greater extent whether our actions are moral, and if they will strike other people as immoral. This is true for all of us, you and me. Corporeal and otherwise. Everyone.

Except the King of Baristas. When I saw him, I knew immediately he had never once hesitated to do right. How did I know this? Maybe it was his beard, as his beard seemed kind. Or it was the way his eyes, his purple eyes crinkled with empathy. Or it was who the light glinted off his horns. In any case, listeners, he reminded me a little of a buffalo. And it’s hard not to trust a buffalo.

“Cecil,” he said. “We have been waiting for you. And by we I don’t mean the royal we, as we don’t believe in that, and I didn’t mean the royal we that second time either. All of us have been waiting for you, and not one of us believes in the royal we. And I love your mustache sooo much!” the king added in a baby voice as he pinched my cheek. I explained that I came to the Cavelands for the booze. He said, “We’ll talk about that. But first, we need to talk about something more important. Your new sponsor.”

I said, “Our sponsor, you mean money? Did you know it’s available in twenties now?” He said: “Do not speak to us of the attractiveness of money! Money is cursed! And of course everything that is cursed is attractive, otherwise the curse wouldn’t be a problem.” He said that and I thought it was pretty smart. I mean, all of the cursed objects around the station are really fun to play with. Until an intern gets hurt. Like Gustav the other day, who found radium squish ball from one of our old statin promotions.

Oh, quick aside: to the family of Gustav, he was a distracted intern, and he will be missed.

The king said, “How many times has a person done something awful and you can’t understand why it happened? Only for the reason to be – money! If there were a drug with the same side effects money has, it would be illegal.” “Um, maybe we can talk about this later?” I said. “There are eGemony corporate prize contest and sweepstakes buzz marketing street teams heading this way now! You’ll be defenseless against them! They’ll round you up into tech campus relaxation zones and make you play videogames and drink energy shakes and and learn PowerPoint! You’ll be trapped for eternity!”

He said, “OH Cecil. They came already. There was a squadron of them, hideous and flickering shadows with smiles of black fire, driving branded cars with terrible posture. And all of them were cheery and wearing shorts and saying things like “devOps”.

I asked if the street teams found what they were looking for. The King of the Baristas said: “We have taken care of them.” And with his big hands, his big nimble hands, he reached into the matted animal skins on his chest, and he sorted through necklaces made of tiny bird skulls and Splenda packets. He fished out a thin badge that was embossed with the eGemony logo. It still had the rampant weasels and the cheerfully crossed (--) [0:13:52] mushrooms. But the name, the name on the badge, was ground away. “This,” the King of the Baristas said, “is all that’s left of them.” And he let out a little chuckle. If I could grade it on a scale between mirthful and mirthless, it was on the mirthful side of things. But there was also a bit of self-knowledge in it, as if the person chuckling were aware that to completely abandon himself to pleasure was to be unmoored from the realities of existence.

He said the street team had covertly arrived over four years ago, in the dead of night, and worked their way to my desk. They recovered the case of Canadian Club and in celebration they opened a single bottle. They passed it around, and each one drank from it. But when they drank the soul of the time, they became infused with it. by the time each had finished a single sip, they had become a part of this place, and the place had become a part of them. “Do you understand, Cecil?” he asked. And I exclaimed, “I get it! Rather than absorbing Night Vale’s soul, Night Vale’s soul absorbed them! So… We’re all good. Problems always solve themselves. Thank you, King of the Baristas!”

There was an uncomfortably long pause. Every barista was staring silently at me. And I worried that maybe this was a disrespectful way to address the king. I coughed a bit and then tried again with a classic barista joke to lighten the mood. “Your mother’s so overcome with ennui that she-“ “Cecil,” the king interrupted. “We, the baristas, are the eGemony corporate prize contest and sweepstakes buzz marketing street team! Once we had become a part of Night Vale, we knew what we had to do,” he said. And I said, “Ooooooo, I can’t wait to find out! But can I check the weather report just really quick?” And he said, “Sure. Go ahead.”

[“Glitter” by Charly Bliss]

The king repeated: “We knew what we had to do.” He cackled a bit. “Have you ever noticed how, at one point, there were no baristas here, and then suddenly there were many, many baristas? Did it seem strange to you that every café now had a barista? And every restaurant and market, pawn shop and dry cleaner’s? And how the vacant lots are no longer truly vacant, because they are populated by baristas? Have you noticed baristas at the Antiques Mall, in the DMV, and close to but not in the Dog Park? And the ones who run alongside cars as they’re leaving the highway, to offers drivers shots of espresso? Have you noticed how no new buildings pass the city planning department, unless ther’es a four-foot-by-four-foot space for a barista to stand? Didn’t that strike you as strange? Did it strike you as strange that your choices at any coffee establishment were only espresso, or espresso with a shot of Canadian Club?”

The king said to me, wisely, carefully, giddily: “Cecil. After being absorbed in the soul of Night Vale, we knew we needed to save our city. So we served it to you. We served Night Vale, its own soul. Night Vale has drunk itself, and in the process become as much itself as any town could ever be.

By then, the sun was starting to rise, and some of the baristas had settled down and were cuddling and grooming each other in their little barista beds, as the fire in the cave was now turning to embers, and there were small ashes flittering like moths around the sierra cups and chemex graphs and wind-powered aeropresses that cluttered every surface. 

I felt relief knowing the baristas were safe. And also confusion, knowing they had once been a tech company social influence marketing effort. But also, civic pride, as Night Vale is darned good at defending itself against people who want to steal and drink our souls. But also itchiness, because of the animal pelts and long twirly mustache.

“The time of worry isn’t over, Cecil,” the king said. “In fact, it is only beginning. eGemony won’t care that Night Vale’s soul is safe. They’ll send another street team and another, until they’ve figured out how to distill our souls. And do you know why, Cecil? It’s because of – money.”

Listeners, this is terrible news! Mostly because I really don’t like to hear bad things said about our station’s sponsors.

“Cecil, we need you to renounce money as a sponsor. Do you know what’s more important than money? We do. We have taken steps this night, while you were here, your show is now sponsored not by but by – love. Love is the way forward against eGemony!” I said “Uh huh,” but I said it with skepticism, like exactly the way a cashier would if someone were about to buy something clutching a handful of love. Then I said, “suuuure,” but like really sarcastically like you do after a poetry reading.

He said: “Your battle is not yet over. eGemony wants that case of Canadian Club, even if it no longer exists. They’re going to use every one of their tools. They’ll use violence, intimidation, social media, dreamfluencing, viral marketing, even science! They will win, unless you figure out a way to repel them!” And I said, “Um pardon me, did you say that they’ll use science?” And he thought about it and agreed that he had at some point said that. Science, he said, was one of eGemony’s mightiest weapons, and the King of the Baristas said that he wished he knew of some way to fight against it. As soon as he said, I stood to my full height, which is one third taller than my three-quarters height. Listeners, I must admit I was moved enough to actually put my hands by my hips, and my hands were fists, listeners. fists! And I said, “Oh, I know how to fight back. There is only one weapon mightier than science, and that is – more science.” And the king looked at me with amazement, as if I had unsuspected depths, and he said, “Do you know science?”

Do I, listeners, do I?

Next time, I’ll answer that question, but spoiler alert: gosh, heck yeah, of course.

Stay tuned next for Adolescent X-team Karate Bedbugs, the show your grandma thinks you like, because she never understood you.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Why would you wanna think outside the box? The box is steel and locked and buried deeply underground. It’s so safe here. Why would you want to leave?

[nightvaleintros]

118 - eGemony, part 2: “The Cavelands”

[intro] Joseph Fink: We are in full gift-buying season. And what better gift for the person in your life than artifacts from a strange town somewhere on the other side of a warm breeze? For instance, you could get them the New York Times bestselling new novel from Night Vale, [echoing] It Devours!. This thriller about scientists and sand monsters requires no previous knowledge of Night Vale at all. Get it wherever books prowl.

Rightfully afraid of books? Listeners, there is a whole world of Welcome to Night Vale gifts in our store, from the new Jessica Hayworth “Guts” phone cover that is exactly what it sounds like, to our Sheriff’s Secret Police badge pin, to our tasteful and classy Night Vale ties and scarves, suitable for your high-powered executive lifestyle.

Not a high-powered executive? Don’t worry, we also have shorts that say “Creepy” on the butt. Welcometonightvale.com and click on “store”.

https://topatoco.com/collections/wtnv

The Glow Cloud will be descending along with Cecil and a full cast of Night Vale folks in our newest Night Vale live show, “All Hail”, coming to Texas, the Southwest and the West Coast this November and December, from San Antonio all the way to Seattle. Come see a full night of theater and music, no knowledge of Night Vale needed so bring some friends. Welcometonightvale.com and click on “shows”.

http://www.welcometonightvale.com/live

Maybe you’re like me and you’re thinking, man I want a podcast convention that isn’t about tech or business, but is people who just love this art form getting together and doing cool stuff. Well I have really good news: Night Vale, Hank Green and the McElroy brothers have the same idea, and we are doing the first ever PodCon, in Seattle on December 9 and 10. Please just do me a favor and go to podcon.com and look at eh schedule, I’ve never seen so many things I’ve wanted to do in just two days. Including an extremely rare Alice isn’t dead live show. Remote attendance options are available, so even if there’s no way for you to get to Seattle, go to podcon.com and check it out..

OK, well, good talking to you. And hey, Say hi to Tommy for me, OK?

[outro] Meg Bashwiner: Welcome to Night Vale is a production of Night Vale Presents. This episode was written by Glen David Gould, with Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor and produced by Joseph Fink.

The voice of Night Vale is Cecil Baldwin.

Original music by Disparition. All of it can be found at Disparition.info or at Disparition.bandcamp.com.

This episode’s weather was “Glitter” by Charly Bliss. Find out more at charlybliss.com. that’s Charly with a Y.

Comments? Questions? Email us at info@welcometonightvale.com, or follow us on Twitter @NightValeRadio. Or teach yourself to bake bread. It’s easier than you think.

Check out welcometonightvale.com for more information on this show and our upcoming tour to Texas, the Southwest, and the West Coast. See you there. Or not. Stage lights are bright.

Today’s proverb: Why would you wanna think outside the box? The box is steel and locked and buried deeply underground. It’s so safe here. Why would you want to leave?

[constantchinaski]

Jordi Colomer, Welcome to caveland ?, 16′, 2016 Gutai group, Murakami Saburo, Laceration of paper, 1956

[wtnvproverbs]

Why would you wanna think outside the box? The box is steel and locked and buried deeply underground. It’s so safe here. Why would you want to leave?

eGemony, Part 2: “The Cavelands”

[vilevilescorpio]

There is only one weapon mightier than science and that is… more science!

Episode 118 – eGemony, part 2: “The Cavelands”

[kevin--of-desert-bluffs]

WTNV quick rundown - 117 - eGemony: Part 1 "Canadian Club"

Read the rest of my rundowns here!

Co-written with Glen David Gold.

Featuring Hunter Canning as Hugh Jackman and Lusia Strus as Missy Wilks.

The suffocation of the ego, the eternal silence of the void, faceless, yet screaming, and now serving orange wine on tap. Welcome to Night Vale.

Cecil is sponsored by money today and visited by Hugh Jackman (but not THE Hugh Jackman) who is the Senior VP in charge of Dreamfluencing at eGemony which yes is pronounced exactly like hegemony this is not a subtle plot lol.

He is apparently looking for a case of Canadian Club whiskey that was hidden in NV as part of a contest/promotion that ended up sinking the company which eventually became eGemony.

Due to printing 'errors' in the rest of the magazine Hugh is sure that the case is under Cecil's desk and is being cagey about why they want it so much. Cecil says that the desk wasn't even there when the ad/contest was run and that Hugh should ask Station Management.

Cecil, looking through the Playboy magazine the ad comp was run in (Playboy seems to be more...feminist, shall we say? in NV and this issue includes 'all the women who have ever played James Bond' which is apparently quite a few) and discovers that one of the girls Missy Wilks may in fact be living in NV right now on Kessler Streets. He recognises her by the similar eyes and tendrils.

Missy instantly tells him to look under his desk and that she's been waiting for this call for 40 years (she also raised a family and shot a guy once). Cecil's seems heistant and says he's even closed his eyes every time he had to cower under there so has no idea what he will or won't find.

Missy encourages him to look, saying that although Hugh says they found all the other cases that is a lie. Instead they left the cases there to 'absorb the soul of the place' which they later recovered a drunk leaving those plays soulless. They want to drink the soul of NV in a similar way. Cecil looks under the desk but only finds an envelope which tells him that the case has been taken to the cavelands, home of the baristas. Missy is worried that the baristas will be no match for eGemony's dreamfluencing.

Cecil knows that he should warn people but warning people invites consequences that he's afraid of.

Weather: "Lost Everything" by Mary Epworth

According to Hugh, Cecil's supervisors aka station management are called Eunice, Lilly, Agatha, Demarcus, and Jad. They are also 'old friends' of his.

Missy Wilks turn offs include impatient people and tick bites (Cecil agrees). Her turn ons include groovy people, good food, overwhelming feelings of dread…chanting and…all hail the Glow Cloud.

In NV you seem to be able to ring someone by spelling out their name as the numbers.

Stay tuned next for the sounds of chewing amplified to the threshold of pain. Good night, Night Vale, Good Night. 

Proverb: People always say "Before I die…" as if they haven't already begun the process.

[bluefanguy]

Welcome To Night Vale: eGemony, Part 2: The Cavelands: Reaction (Spoilers)

Where the Baristas live.

I’m not really all that surprised that one of Night Vale’s defenses is mind control or absorbing those who work against it into itself. Maybe its soul is more powerful than expected to turn the marketing team into baristas. Of course, there are two outcomes: either the marketing teams overpower Night Vale’s soul or there end up being too many baristas and a new problem is created from it.

Hearing Cecil sing was pretty nice. I wouldn’t say I was entranced by his voice, probably because it was unexpected but it does have a rather soothing quality.

Well, one more part I’m assuming. Let’s hope that Candian Club stays out of the hands of eGemony and Cecil can stand against Money!

A moment of silence for Intern Gustav.

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, comments, questions, and followings are all appreciated. Until next time.

Bluefanguy, out.