((Hi, I'm back again. Ha. I would like to say that I'm only doing important ship episodes, if I didn't I would be writing over 100 of these. Ha. Though Carlos, or Matt, is mentioned in Episode 3 and 4, I'm doing more important episodes to the ship, like this one. This is episode 16.)) ((If you haven't read the first one, please do so, the link is here -> http://aminoapps.com/p/nnst9n)) ((Also at the very end of Umis art I have some art that is more Night Vale related, but does describe the difference between the Desert Bluffs and Night Vale. So please check it out, it's fairly important. And if you don't listen to the podcast, please do. Please support the creators, they deserve it.)) ((To enjoy the story listening to the podcast please go to the link at the end if this,  and if it doesn't work, search it. Trust me. It works.
https://soundcloud.com/nightvaleradio/16-the-phone-call-1)) ((This is the last thing, I swear. It had occurred to me that some people are really normal and don't know what WTNV is. So I recommend clicking on this link to the official site [WTNV site|http://www.welcometonightvale.com/listen/] If that doesn't work, have a copy/pasted excerpt from the site:
Welcome to "Welcome to Night Vale", a twice-monthly fiction podcast from the town of Night Vale, where every conspiracy theory is true.))

The strange man,  who sits in the chair in front of a mic,  was doing just that. He was sitting in front of a mic, mentally freaking out. He was ready to start his show, but he was also nervous. He was usually nervous when he started shows. Shiro wasn't even a calm man in the first place. Shiro was, in fact, perfectly imperfect in every way. As was the rest of his city, excluding Matthew Holt, who was actually perfect. Shiro still talked about the boy like he was god, which he was not. Matt was currently still working on the 'science' which isn't the point. Well I guess we're cutting this introduction short, the show is on in- now. The show is on n- "Your existence is not impossible, but it’s also not very likely, " Shiro said in his usual deep voice,  "Welcome to Night Vale." Shiro continued to mentally prepare, "In light of the ever-declining sales of newspapers, and the rise of competition from digital media, the Night Vale Daily Journal announced that it has developed a new business model. Publishing editor Leann Hart, speaking to television and internet reporters outside the burned-down shell of the Journal’s former distribution plant, said their new mission, as a newspaper, is to kill news bloggers with hatchets. In light of the ever-declining sales of newspapers, and the rise of competition from digital media, the Night Vale Daily Journal announced that it has developed a new business model. Publishing editor Leann Hart, speaking to television and internet reporters outside the burned-down shell of the Journal’s former distribution plant, said their new mission, as a newspaper, is to kill news bloggers with hatchets. She added that the Journal still plans to use the AP Style Guide and they are working to design a newer, more modern-looking masthead. Several Journal reporters and ad reps then began swinging blades at the non-print reporters in attendance." Shiro swiveled in his chair to read his next card, as he did this he began to say,  "The Sheriff’s Secret Police is issuing an urgent message to all citizens, " He sighed silently as he read the message,  "ATTENTION ALL CITIZENS: Memorize this list. Memorize it now. It will not now, nor ever, be repeated. Memorize this list for your safety and protection. We cannot tell you when or where you will need to know it but when you do, you will be safe. Here is the list. Memorize. Now." Shiro moved to sit on his legs, getting much closer to the microphone, "Hazelnut, Mystify, Cuttlefish, Lark, Lurk, Robert, Anglican, Pheromone, Halter top, Marmalade, Hardware, Laser, Pepper, Release, Kneecap, Falafel, Period, Chase, Chaste, Leggings, Wool, Sweater, Heartbeat, Heartbeat, Heart, " The man paused, "Beat, " He paused once more,  "Heart, " Once more, "beat, beat,  beat,  beat,  beat, " As he said those words he kept pausing in between, leaving room for awkward silence. He let the silence continue for a few more seconds before saying, "Memorize that list, citizens, in order. Secret Police warn that if you miss even one word, or transpose a couple of worlds like “lurk” and “lark,” there could be unpleasant consequences. This has been a special announcement from the Sheriff’s Secret Police." Shiro leaned back to his original position, smiling widely. "Listeners, guess who called me this weekend. Well, hey, I don’t like to talk too much about my personal life here. This is your community news station, not Shiro’s Personal Life Station, right?" He had started to chew on his bottom lip, mostly with excitement, before finally bursting, "Okay, fine. I’ll just say it: Matt~" He sighs like a teenager girl with a crush, a crush that the girl hopes will be returned. "Matt, the beautiful, freckled skinned  scientist who came into our little town and our littler hearts several months ago." Shiro giggled silently to himself before getting much more serious, "Well, I gave him my home phone number quite a while back, and he never called, and I didn’t think anything of it, right? I mean, sometimes people just don’t call, and that’s okay. Well, to the point, " He bites his lower lip, "Matt calls, and I’m like, “Hello?” Like I don’t even have caller ID! And he’s like 'I need to talk to you. This is important.' And I’m like, 'Umm, OK.' I mean, that’s pretty forward, right, listeners? But I can’t tell exactly what he wants yet. And he said, "Shiro.' Just the sound of his caramel voice! 'Shiro,' he says, 'Shiro. I think time is slowing down in Night Vale.' And then I said, after a slow sip of Armagnac, 'Oh?'" Shiro closes his eyes, sliding his headphones onto his head so he can walk while telling the story. 'And perfect Matt said, 'Last week: seven days, 24 hours each day, 60 minutes in each hour. That’s 10,080 minutes in a week, right?' 'Uh huh? Go on…' I said, trying to sound like someone with a normal pulse whose palms were not sweating. 'Well, I ran some figures, and during that same amount of time in Night Vale, 11,783 minutes elapsed everywhere else in the world. That’s more than a full day longer. I don’t know what’s happening.' Shiro giggled once more, like the school girl he is, "So that’s what Matt said! Listeners, what do you think? I feel like time always slows down when we’re together, Matt and I. Is that what he’s trying to say? I feel that way too! But I didn’t say it, I just said, ohh, this is bad…I just said, 'Neat!' Ugh! How embarrassing! I mean, Matt is so smart, and he says so many smart things! And I’m not dumb! I like science and municipally-approved books just as much as the next guy, so I can’t believe that’s all I could say to him. "

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Neat," The only word Matt could think of during the entire broadcast. "But…I did manage to ask if he wanted to get together sometime, and talk some more about this really fascinating subject. He said no…but he needed me to help get the word out and see if anyone has noticed a massive time-shift, so that’s what I’m doing now. Anything for the scientific community; I’m very into science these days! " His radio broadcasted. Matt bit his lower lip, muttering to himself mostly muttering about how it sounds like something people will quote for the rest of the time he's here. Maybe something like if your gay and your coming out to them you say your very in to science. Matt continued working at his desk... Table... Thing. "Wow! Can you believe he called me?" Matt once again mumbled under his breath, saying something along the lines of 'it was for business.' Matt leaned forwards against his desk. He listened to the broadcast quite closely. "Update on the impending invasion from the underground city: The Sheriff’s Secret Police has reviewed Teddy Williams’ grainy security footage from the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex, and they say that the nearly-indiscernible grey blotch making a slight movement near the cheese dispenser definitely proves that a lost city is moving toward war with Night Vale." Matt snorted, making a note of how he would have to check it out again, if he hadn't before. He couldn't quite remember. "A balaclava-clad man wearing a mitre, cloak, and a giant silver star, and speaking through a vocoder – you know, the man we all believe to be the Sheriff of Night Vale? – announced this morning that all citizens should prepare their town for war. This includes: fortifying porches with sandbags, training children to detect land mines, and not taking off our gas masks for meals (even though it is considered polite)." Matt sighed plopping down into his chair, closing his eyes, taking off his glasses. Though he technically didn't need them anymore, he still loved them to death. "We talked with Lotor himself. He told us that during last night’s league bowling tournament, the jukebox malfunctioned and would not stop playing 'Mister Brownstone.' Lotor says this could be a code, some kind of threatening message, or maybe even a subtle call for peace. He also asked that Night Vale citizens learn their shoe sizes. Shoe rentals are taking way too long, and it’s really not that hard to memorize a one or two-digit number." Matt kept taking notes on the strange happenings in Night Vale, "The Sheriff’s Secret Police also asks Night Vale residents to please help in their neighborhood watch program. Secret Police are in every neighborhood, watching everybody, so here are some tips on how you can help this invaluable community surveillance program." And so Matt wrote them down, word for word.
1.Keep all windows open during clement weather, and if you must close them during rain, dust, or coal storms, please keep them clean, and stand near them, so cameras and microphones can clearly identify you.
2.When having any private conversation, whether via phone or with those in your home, turn down the TV and radio to cut back on noise pollution. Also, please try to keep your conversations lively. Maybe some local gossip, or polarizing sports opinions. Too much boring talk about plans for your garden or where to buy good laser discs can make the Secret Police tired and less effective at their jobs.
3.Do not wear tinfoil hats. This hackneyed technique doesn’t work at all. Helicopters could mind-scan you through twenty feet of lead. You shouldn’t wear these homemade hats because it draws unnecessary attention to yourself. It’s pathetic and paranoid. The Secret Police are embarrassed for you.

Matt tore the page from his notebook, stuffing it into a folder labeled,  'Rules and Secret Police.' Matt looked back up at the radio going back to listening to Shiros smooth as fuck voice,  "And as always, if you see something, say 'something.' That’s the code word to call a special raid on a neighbor or stranger. If you see something, say the word 'something.'" Matt got up, beginning to pace,  as he had been doing previously as Shiro described their Phone call. "Now, in the news. After several months of protests from ordinary Night Vale citizens of stout and sturdy character, the City Council has announced several improvements for the Public Library. These improvements are the following:" Matt once more wrote down the list, still word for word, but in a much sloppier handwriting than his usual.

1.An entrance is being constructed at the front of the building, so we will no longer have to enter by waking up between two shelves in a dizzy haze, unsure of how we got there, and then wandering around, trapped, until we wake with a start in our own beds, covered with sweat, and with a few books we checked out on our nightstand.

2.Drinking fountains are being installed in the lobby, as well as dunking chambers, and a state-of-the-art fainting pool.

3.Librarian repellent dispensers are being placed throughout the building. Remember, if approached by a librarian, keep still. Do not run away. Try to make yourself bigger than the librarian.

4.Finally, the children’s section is getting beanbag chairs.

"That is all. Is it? Yes! But is it? Yes. And now, traffic. All roads lead to somewhere, and all roads come from somewhere. And in between they are a snarl and curve, a twist and a bend. Where are we going? I mean, metaphorically? Where are we coming from? I mean, literally. Is it possible to stop, or turn around, and if not, what does that mean for the latest polls and economic reports?" Matt went back his experiments not listening to the radio as intensely as before. "Ladies and gentlemen: ladies and gentlemen, Route 800 is looking clear in both directions. The old dirt road to the small wooden shack is backed up at least thirty minutes. There. Now you know. Has that filled an emptiness for you? Are you any happier now? I hope so. This has been, and will always be, traffic. Listeners, I can hardly stand it any longer! During the past few stories, my phone has been silently buzzing. You guessed who!" Matt blushed, he unconsciously called Shiro, of course he did. Of course he does this more often than would like to admit. His body just... moving on its own,  saying what was supposed to be said while he was actually deep in thought,  listening to the radio. "Given that I am a radio host and it is therefore my duty to read you the news, it would be completely inappropriate for me to answer my phone – regardless of how much I want to soak my ears in the oaky tones of our community’s most significant outsider. But…well…he left me some voice mails. This may be a bit unorthodox, but I need your help, dear listeners, to determine where Matt is going with all of this. Let’s listen to these together, okay? What do you think he’s trying to say?" Matt wasn't even sure if he was actually in his science room, he really isn't aware if his surroundings, what is with him? "First saved message: Shiro, sorry to bother you. I need you to get the word out that clocks in Night Vale are not real. I have not found a single real clock. I have disassembled several watches and clocks this week and all of them are hollow inside. No gears, no crystal, no battery or power source. Some of them actually contain a gelatinous gray lump that seems to be growing hair…and teeth. I need to know if all clocks are this way, Shiro. This is ver– There’s something at my door, Shiro. I need to go, okay? I’ll call you back in…well, I don’t know. End of message." Wow did he actually record this? Probably. "Next message: There’s a man in a jacket holding a leather suitcase outside my door, Shiro. He’s not knocking, he’s just standing in front of my door. I can’t make out his face. I’m peering through a crack in the living room blinds – Oh no, he saw me! End of message. Next message: Sorry about that, Takashi. I forget what I was doing. I think somebody came over…but I don’t remember who or what for. Anyway, I need to meet you. Are you free tomorrow afternoon? You have a contact number for the mayor and someone with the police, right? It’s important that I find them. And again, can you get the word out on your radio show about the clocks? End of message." Matt frowned, it did confirm that he hadn't left his lab... Well, home. He does remember vaguely seeing the man as he was listening, but as stated before, he unconsciously observes,  doing what is needed at the time,  "Did you hear that, listeners? A date! Let’s go to the weather!" Matt laughs silently, listening to the music play as he is engulfed in his thoughts. Matt thought something to himself towards the middle of the song, and that was: Maybe he didn't mind a date. (Or thinking about it being a date.) And he called Shiro, consciously this time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shiro smiled as the music ended. "Well, I just got off the phone with Matt, listeners, and we have a date! Tomorrow afternoon! It’s just coffee, but maybe it’s more! Maybe lots more. Who knows?" Shiro grinning widely, trying not to squeal, "You know, they always say if you’re trying to meet someone, you may never find them, but it’s when you’re not looking, that’s when they find you. I’ve always heard this in reference to government agents, but I think it applies to dating as well. Matt did want me to ask if anyone has ever actually seen the Night Vale Clock Tower. I told him that it was invisible, and always teleporting, and that’s why he can’t ever see it. I mean, that seems sort of obvious. Okay. That was unfair. Matt is a very smart man, and I shouldn’t roll my eyes just because he doesn’t comprehend basic architecture. He obviously has a lot of other intriguing interests, though…like clock making, and seismology. And who knows what else?" Shiro leaned back in his chair, almost falling in the process, "Oh happy day, listeners! Thanks for listening, and for helping me through this. I’m so very excited!" He sat on his legs, "Before we go, intern Olia just handed me this: The Sheriff’s Secret Police would like to issue a correction to their earlier special alert. In their warning, they stated that memorizing a very specific list would keep you safe. This is incorrect. According to the new statement, quote: 'We are not safe. We are all being hunted by time and our own deceitful bodies. Memorizing the list will merely prevent additional external pain beyond that which you experience daily just by being alive. The Sheriff’s Secret Police regret the error.' End quote.That’s it for our news. Stay tuned next for a community-wide frisson of cosmic fright. Thank you again, Night Vale! May you, too, find love in this dark desert. May it be as permanent as the blinking lights, and as comforting as the dull roar of space." Shiro took off his headphones and began to leave the station told its daily proverb.

Today’s proverb: If I said you had a beautiful body, would it even matter because we are so insignificant in this vast, incomprehensible universe?