entranceway | [radio] this is much worse than the subway

[Cecil has never had to broadcast from a handheld radio before. It's practically a walkie-talkie. He's not even sure if this is getting out to anyone, but a radio personality is nothing without an audience. Maybe literally.]

[The broadcast sounds like there are at least four hooded figures with Cecil as he talks, all distortion and static.]

Hello? Night V--er--Wonderland? Sor--kssssss--ssional broadcast, but I'm coming to you from a handheld, and well...I'm not even--fffssssss--nyone is hearing this. Seems we're in the midst of an event again. I can only assume that all of my fellow Wonderland denizens share my current fate and are trapped in a se--kzzt--erground mines.

The signal is so very weak, Wonderland. I hope you can hear my v--sssss. I hope it brings you some comfort; some modicum of human contact in these trying times. I hope that all of you are still alive and well. There are ma--fsss--onsters about, and a dangerous-looking lake. If you are in a group, stay in your group. There is strength in numbers, Wonderland.

[There's a pause and then--since there's no Station Management around to yell at him, and Cecil is more afraid than he's been in awhile--he decides to get personal.]

Carlos? If you can hear me...if you are--zzzzfffff--lease...please be safe.

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Stay wher- kzzztt -u are. I think I know how to find you.

[Having spent a great deal of her life studying and cataloguing tombs, a series of mining tunnels isn't all that daunting: particularly when they've already got all these handy area maps on the walls. The 'long way around' is the one she happened to take as well to avoid cracking ice and frigid waters that would undoubtedly kill her in less than a minute.

Shying away from a large crack in the wall from which skittering, chattering nosies are emanating, Evie moves around another set of industrial lights and wonders (not for the first time today) how power is still being funneled down here.

Only when she reaches the hallway Cecil described does she hazard calling out.]

Mister Baldwin?

[On the radio, as well:]

Are yo- ksshthere?

Alright...I'll wait here.

[And he does, morosely picking splinters out of the end of the wooden beam he's been using as a weapon. He flinches every time he hears skittering nearby. The dogs he can handle, but he feels bad every time he has to kill a spider.]

[Then he hears what he thinks is a voice.]

Hello?

[The radio crackles and he holds it up.] Yes, I heard you! I hkssssssss...

[The radio chooses then to crap out, so Cecil just raises his voice.] Hello, I heard you!

[Evelyn has absolutely no qualms about crushing as many spiders as humanly possible, but that's because she's had a lot of experience with large, carnivorous insects, and doesn't fancy getting to know them better enough for them to get literally or figuratively under her skin.]

Keep talking!

[She shouts back, because despite running the risk of attracting another set of feral dogs, it would be nice (for once) to actually achieve human contact down here. Rounding a corner, Evelyn sees him. Or at least, she thinks she sees him, because she's never actually met Cecil Baldwin in person before.

He looks exactly the way she thought he would - which is a bit odd because no one ever expects that - with dark Bedouin skin and immaculately-coiffed hair...at least, it appears as though it used to be. Vacations in mines are hardly conducive for keeping up with one's appearance.]

...Cecil?

[Evelyn hazards, having a hand and her torch in the half-light of the tunnel.]

Hello! [He raises his voice a bit, moving toward the sound of her voice, hoping to meet her halfway.]

[The approach of the light startles him a bit after being in darkness or dim light for so long, and then she appears around the corner. He smiles brightly, relieved just to see someone.]

Evelyn? Hello. It's, ah...good to meet you in person. Though the circumstances could have been better.

[He approaches, slowly so as not to startle her.]

[His grin is bright and refreshing in the dark, and Evie returns the smile, albeit somewhat wearily.]

Likewise, I agree, [she nods, because he doesn't seem all that dangerous. Just a bit frazzled.] Wonderland doesn't make for very conventional impressions, though. Are you well?

[Looking him over he appears to be mostly intact.]

Oh, that's certainly true. It's jarring enough being dropped into another dimension--it's far worse when that dimension goes and changes on you.

[A sigh. What can you do?] Well, I'm alive. In many ways I suppose that's the best I can hope for. You seem alive enough, too.

Oh, I should hope I am.

[Evie pats herself down and dusts herself off in the process. There's dog blood and spider goo on the sleeves of her anorak, but things could be infinitely worse. Weighty bits of pipe make for half-decent weapons.

Cecil is managing well, though. One might almost suspect him of being the sort of person who deals with reality-altering events on a day-to-day basis.]

This event is based on the memories of a dear friend of mine. He told me vague things here and there a long time ago, but seeing it in person...

[Worse. Worse in every regard.]

Oh, goodness. I can't imagine how the owner of these memories must be faring. You mean he was lost in a place like this in his own world...but for real?

[This is easily 900% worse than the abandoned mine shaft back home. I mean, there isn't even basic amenities, let alone HBO.]

For real, for days.

[Maybe a week. She's not entirely sure -- Hell, Philip isn't. It might have only been a matter of hours. Without a way to keep time...]

I've been trying to find him, he- he probably isn't doing that well at all.

[Or worse: he's getting along just fine.]

Ahh...that's awful. I hope you find him well.

You and me both.

[Evelyn gives Cecil a trying smile, pausing to look him over a little closer. Without dogs around the corner, taking a breath is easier.]

You haven't heard any strange voices, have you? While down here?

Voices? Nnnnoooo?

Good. That's...good.

[Evelyn pats him on the arm gently, giving him a little smile.]

I've heard that deeper into the mines there was a facility overrun with some kind of virus. Hearing voices is a symptom of that.

Oh, jeez. Let's hope everyone avoids that place. I'd rather not be hearing voices on top of everything else that's happening.

Is your city like this, like- like Wonderland? Night Vale, I mean.

[That's the name, isn't it? Where he hosts a radio programme?]

Oh...sort of? Night Vale can be a bit absurd sometimes like Wonderland, but we don't usually have gigantic caterpillars or March Hares. Except during caterpillar season.

Mhm,

[Evelyn nods along, sweeping her torch wide and peering down another hallway that looks just like the others, damn it, this place should have better signage.]

...I'm sorry, did you say 'caterpillar season?'

Yeah, you know. Spring, all the insects come back, and then there's that one week around May when you get thousands and thousands and thousands of gigantic man-eating caterpillars?

Ah...

[No, she is most definitely not familiar with this joyous time of year.]

...I think my seasons are a little different from yours, Cecil.

Oh. Huh. [He taps his chin thoughtfully.]

[radio] this is much worse than the subway

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