hooded figures in the dog park


Night Vale Aesthetic


The first pictures of my newest cosplay that I just finished! It’s my interpretation of the hooded figures of the dog park of Night Vale. I’m really happy with the design but I’m not sure if I’m happy with how it looks hmmmrggg pst theres tattoo sleeves on my legs aswel but u can’t rlly tell 

Apologies for my hilariously bad editing and offensively bad face in these pictures ^^’

Okay, so I was listening to ‘Closer’ by The Tiny and I stumbled upon a certain comment that I thought would be a really cute headcanon and should be shared. The comment read:

“Just picturing the citizens of Night Vale going through their chaotic lives while the show is running. But as soon as Cecil airs the weather, everyone just…stops. Everyone. Even the mayor, even the hooded figures in the dog park, Tamika Flynn, Carlos, everyone. They all stop, and all of Night Vale listens to this song. And for a few minutes, the only sound is the sound of the weather.”

I thought, 'wow’ 'I’m really in love with that idea!’ Of course, many others added to the comment. Things like:

“I imagined them all dancing slow to this song with the people around them in perfect chorography , twirling with empty, sad expressions, before they’re returned to their original positions continuing suddenly , not even aware they had moved at all.”

“I imagine that when Strex takes Night Vale that all of the Strex employees just whip the citizens as they do nothing, they aren’t even anywhere near a radio. When the citizens wake up, they end up being one more step toward rebellion.”

“And suddenly everyone puts down their ritual blades, their beakers, the cement mixers stop whirring, and they listen to the report. And Old Woman Josie sighs, turns to one of the Ericas, and says, "what lovely weather we are having today.” And for a minute all you can hear is the sound of weather, all over the town, uninterrupted, even the sun stops it’s noisey procession across the sky to admire.“

Then, I started to tear up. I imagine that just for a couple minutes, everyone in Night Vale, finds peace. That the weather is what brightens most of people’s days.

“Sometimes ya see t’good, sometimes it’s t’bad, and sometimes ya see what the masked figures behind the counter put in ya food at the Arbys.

“Welcome to NightVale.”

Eggsy coughs lightly to clear his throat, advertisement playing while he organizes his papers to look for the notice Management had floated to him earlier. He really should start cleaning up his desk, he thinks when he pulls the red stained memo from the smallest stack just as the pre-recorded message trails off on air.

“‘ey listeners, I hope ya do consider NightVale’s water utilities for all your sacrificial bloodlettin’ needs. Now I’ve been asked t’read this memo by Management: the city council would like t’remind everyone that the dog park at t’corner of Earl and Summerset is still not lettin’ dogs in. Or people. Or librarians. Generally they would like t’remind ya that only the hooded figures should be in t’dog park. I know, I know listeners, we all wanna go to t’dog park, JB is upset when we walk past cuz he can hear whatever’s inside, but we must do as told, listeners. So as we continue with today’s show, just remember, no one but t’hooded figures in t’dog park.

“So, you guys know the new scientist in town right? ‘arry? Well, he called a meetin’ yesterday. Listeners, ‘arry is perfect. There’s no way around it. He’s got a jaw like Michelangelo carved it ‘imself, and ‘is eyes are the color of the richest dirt, a blissful mix of the deepest browns. And his ‘air listeners! His perfect, gorgeous, and fluffy hair! I wanted to just grab it and pull, listeners. We all hate and despair and love that perfect hair in equal measure. Rox brought us some chili pepper fritters, though they were missing the chili peppers. She said Merlin had taken them for whatever reason, so we ate the fried fritter batter silently.

“‘arry told us that we’ve gotta be the most scientifically interestin’ community in Europe, and he called the meeting to tell us ‘e meant no harm. ‘e just wants t’study us. Harry grinned, and everything about him was perfect, and I fell in love instantly.”

imagine cecil doing an editorial for night vale citizens on loving your nonbinary partner

“here’s another tip, listeners. the night vale community health organization reminds us that referring to your nonbinary s/o as your ‘boyfriend’ or ‘girlfriend’ implies a kind of restriction within the terminology. here are some terms you can use instead, to promote gender-inclusive language:

  • datemate
  • personfriend
  • sweetheart
  • other half
  • gift of the glow cloud (all hail)
  • shift in the time/space continuum
  • fellow human consumer of john peters (you know, the farmer)’s imaginary corn
  • gorgeous head of hair that shall never be cut by telly the barber so help you the citizens of this town
  • fellow person who understands the validity of the fact that gender binary is a social construction upkept by hooded figures that hover in and around the dog park…”

the show goes on for another 45 minutes like this


Do not approach this post. Do not look at this post. Do not think about this post. But you might let this post walk your dog? It’s our top 10 Hooded Figure Headcanons.

55) The hooded figures in the Dog Park are the City Council in disguise.

58) Werewolves and hooded figures are immune to antique bites.

58) The people who write the best poems during Poetry Week each year are guaranteed high-level positions in town (such as mayor). The worst poets are doomed to turn into hooded figures, and be left unable to use language at all.

61) The Hooded Figure that abducts babies is recruiting them.

71) The hooded figures have hooded dogs too.

88) The hooded figures are people that the secret police have arrested and told everyone to forget about. That’s why no one’s allowed to look at, talk about or even think about them. They’re usually locked up in the dog park, but sometimes they escape.

94) Hooded figures are Nazgul.

98) The Man in the Tan Jacket is a rebellious hooded figure, explaining why no one remembers what he looks like, only his clothes.

101) The Hooded figures will occasionally pull out brightly colored ukeleles when no one is missing, to play menacing music.

123) The hooded figures have fun colourful happy parties with party hats and noisemakers and streamers when nobody is looking.

In a Small Desert Town...

In a small desert town,
Where the sky is mostly void,
There exists a myriad of people,
Least of which are humanoid.

There are the hooded figures,
Who haunt the dog park at night.
Next is Old Woman Josie,
With her angels, to screw in the lights.

There’s John Peters, the farmer,
With crops of imaginary corn.
And the sheriff’s secret police,
Following since before you were born.

Notes left by the faceless old women
Who lives in your home,
Ran against Hiram McDaniels, literally a dragon,
Who has 5 heads and is never alone.

A glow cloud on the school board,
With animal carcasses to purge.
Then there is that complete jerk,
Who goes by Steve Carlsberg.

Perfect Carlos, the scientist,
To whom nothing makes sense.
Except, sometimes, dear Cecil,
Who’s voice is a soft caress.

Immovable Khoshekh and his adorable kittens,
floating by the station’s bathroom sink,
As mysterious as the Man in the Tan Jacket,
With his suitcase of deerskin hide.

There’s brave Intern Dana,
Who survived her double.
And Station management,
Who are a sure sign of trouble.

This town may be scary.
The town may be pretty.
But, it represents hope,
Which is nothing to pity.

When the sun finally sets
Cecil bids a final farewell:
Dear Night Vale, sleep tight,
Dear Night Vale, good night.