The Key and the Gate

Deleted User - 819397

Zani shook her head as her coworker asked if their monster hunt had been successful. "Nope, whatever he thinks he saw didn't exist in any of the books we trawled through…and last I checked the Ghostbusters were only good with…you know…ghosts? Barring the occasional harbinger of doom in the form of a marshmallow mascot, of course." With this jab, the pair departed for the art gallery.

The building was nice enough, having been built fairly recently. Once inside the exhibit Rebecca had been interested in, Zani made a beeline to the painting that she'd come here for. Sure enough, the semblance was uncanny. The artist had perfectly captured something she'd seen while unconscious…except for the presence of someone in the tower, painted to appear as though they were staring at those admiring the art. Unnerved by this clearly unnatural blending of the real and dream worlds, she moved to find the card bearing title and description of the piece, a staple of most art galleries. Something wasn't right…she shouldn't have seen a scene from a painting she'd never been in front of before in a dream…it just wasn't possible. So why was this clear contradiction to the rules of nature right in front of her?
 

DeletedUser37114

It might have just been the fact that this was obviously an odd day, but Nia's journey home still didn't feel right (the only way she could have been more on edge would have been to balance on a knife). She reassured herself that everything would be fine once she reached her sanctuary (the coffee had whispered the same thing, but since she had to leave it a couple blocks away, it was up to her to carry the message on), but when she opened the door... Everything was wrong. False. Incorrect, unbalanced, mixed up, spinning off-point...

When she came to, she was in the corner of her closet, shaking and holding her knees to her chest, whispering nonsense to herself in as soothing a voice as she could manage. Someone had violated her sanctuary, messed with her order, and disturbed her peace, and that was as far from okay as the moon was from the sun. Even in the safest corner of her home, everything was dark and strange, the walls unfamiliar and the floors unwalked upon. The only bit of order she could find felt cold on her skin, heavy around her neck and she clutched at it, a sailor holding to wreckage. Slowly, the storm in her head subsided and everything slipped back into focus, the walls once again her walls, the floors well trodden, and her home once again hers.

With her self settled down (thanks to the key, which swung comfortingly as she moved), Nia set to work resettling her safe place. The well worn coffee table (irritated at having to move AGAIN) shifted back where it should be, chairs nudged back into place, and everything was steadily set to right. Sitting back down into her favorite chair, Nia took a second to catch her breath, resettle herself, and stroke her key (which was happy now that she wasn't panicking).
 
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DeletedUser35174

“And what in the name of Mary do you expect me to do about it?” Siobhan replied, sitting beside him and snatching the letter from his hand. "you're as useful as lynx child" Ethan commented snatching the letter back. She then demanded a raise if he was left a fortune. "HAA, keep dreaming love" he smiled and turned his head down to read the letter.
 

DeletedUser28032

Jonathan
The first thing that became apparent as Jonathan sat down in front of the library computer was that it was in desperate need of a new operating system as the cursor turned into an hourglass for the third time in so many seconds. However despite the machines slow chugging speed the archives seemed to be surprisingly well stocked as he began his search.
Unsurprisingly any searches for “monsters” or anything along those lines yielded no results other than a hoax sighting back in the sixties and a couple of Halloween parties. However upon entering the name “Jacqueline Fine” Jonathan was able to trace much of the mysterious authors past by piecing together the various news articles he could find.
Born to a wealthy family at the turn of the century; Jacqueline was the local school mistress and was highly respected and much loved by the local community if the articles were anything to go by. She then got married sometime during the mid twenties and moved to away with her husband to live in an area just outside of Boston and it was at this point that all trace of her disappeared until the early thirties when she returned to her family home after the death of her husband who had died in some kind of accident; the article didn’t go into any details though no doubt if he contacted some of the Boston news companies then he may be able to learn the exact nature of the man’s fate. It was during this period that she published her book however due to its nature it was widely disregarded as being the ramblings of a grief ridden and half mad woman and so only had a limited run before disappearing into the mists of time.
A quick search would also reveal the location of the family home in which Jacqueline had spent much of her life however it was at this point that he was forced to leave in order to go to work. The drive would prove uneventful though considering what he had seen last night perhaps that was for the best.
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Zani
The label was just below the paintings plain, black wooden frame and stated that the painting was simply called “The Tower” and was painted by a Mr William Everard Pickman who seemed to have an optimistic outlook concerning the painting’s worth judging from the price printed at the bottom in small neat letters “Whoa that is...seriously over priced...do you think one of us should tell him?” Rebecca asked mischievously from over Zani’s shoulder having returned from viewing a different painting “...it’s quite a nice piece mind you perhaps if we ask nicely he’d make us a cheap print for the library? It’d be better than that damn pop art” ah the Pop art another piece of local heritage they had been lumbered with “what do you reckon? He’s in the office at the back of the centre I mean what are the odds he’d actually be here on the day we decide to visit, talk about lucky or what!”
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Ethan
Unfolding the letter with the crackling of very old paper Ethan read the letter’s long looping script which had thankfully fared far better than that of the envelope and was dated the 27th of April 1878.

Dear Sir
If you are reading this then it means that the trust and faith I placed upon the firm was well placed and that you have received my package during the heady days of a future that find difficult to comprehend in this year of 1878.
I realise that I am placing a lot of trust upon a man that I have never met as well as placing an imposition upon yourself but you must believe me that I would not be doing so unless it wasn’t of the upmost importance that the package remains safe.
Concerning the package whose wrappings are hopefully still intact it is imperative that you do NOT open the package as what has been seen may never be unseen and I wish to avoid placing any further burden upon you other than what I am about to ask.
If the person currently reading this letter is indeed the owner of the White Horse Public House should such an establishment still be in existence then humbly request that they simply keep package safe until it is collected by its rightful owner. I fear I do not know the identity of this person but can only assure you that you will know them to be who they truly when they arrive. Others will no doubt also attempt to retrieve the package. They Must Not Succeed! It is of the gravest importance that what I am asking of you is carried out to the letter else I fear we are all in mortal peril. All I can do know is pray that I have made the right decision in taking this action.

Yours Faithfully
Jane Elizabeth Far-Strider
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Nia
As Nia set about rectifying her home she would notice that none of her possessions or valuables were missing meaning that whoever broke into her home. If indeed anybody had broken into her home and this simply wasn’t paranoia induced by her run in with those strange men in town. That they… whoever they were? Hadn’t found what they had been looking for, if they had been looking for anything at all.
In times like these it would have been nice if they’d left a note or something then at least she could have been certain, but alas people never seemed to be that considerate.
 

DeletedUser13682

“You’re kidding me!” Joseph Patterson exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his chair in mock excitement. “You saw a monster, and it was some sort of terror thing.” Johnathan shrugged. “It was only a dream. But, it did lead me to an interesting person.” Michelle Henderson turned from the control panel and joined the conversation. “Did you now? Who is she?” Johnathan shrugged again. “Not sure. Her name is Jacqueline Fine. She was a school teacher in this area, actually, back at the beginning of the last century. After she died, she wrote this book,” Johnathan pulled the borrowed library book out of his pocket and placed it on one of the consoles. “Only a limited run because it’s pretty crazy. But it does reference some things from Lovecraft, so maybe it’s not really all that crazy, just a unique style inspired by him.” Johnathan looked at one of the consoles. “Hmm… feedwater isn’t heating up enough. I’ll adjust it.” Johnathan set about adjusting a few switches at the console, the watched as the feedwater heated up a bit. “Anyway, it’s an interesting read, but it’s not the greatest work since Stranger.” The rest of the night was about as uneventful, minor adjustments to the plant as grid use slowly dropped as people went to sleep and rose slowly as those same people prepared for work.

“Have a good night guys!” Johnathan called out as his crew left for the night. The turnover had been perfectly normal, as it should have been. It was going to be a good day. Johnathan had a week off before he started working the day shift, and he had a few parts for his Porsche arriving in a few days. Before then, he decided to further his investigation of this Jacqueline Fine person. His research indicated that she grew up somewhere in the area, but he didn’t know where, yet. Another quick visit to the library should cure that. Instead of returning home, as was his usual routine, Johnathan planned to drive to the library.
 
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Deleted User - 819397

Much to Zani's disappointment, the plaque didn't offer much help, though the price tag was worth a chuckle at least. It was at this point that Rebecca showed back up, and after she got her kicks in at the artist for thinking anyone would pay that much for this piece, she mentioned that the man himself was in the back, and that they should go ask for a print of the painting for the library. Her desire to know just how this man had captured a dream world made the decision easy for the shorter woman. "Sure, anything's better than what we've got now…and if you took a zero or two off the price, it'd be reasonable…it's not a bad work, all things considered." As they turned to go do just that, she flashed a cheeky grin at her coworker. "I'll handle the bargaining, ok? Don't want a repeat of the last time you tried to lower the price on something." She hadn't been present for this affair, but from the way the other librarians talked it had been a bit of a spectacle…and she couldn't pass up an easy jab like that.
 

DeletedUser28032

Nia
Having been let into the building; the nice old lady saying how it was nice to see somebody was seeing that nice young girl in the apartment opposite her, John made his way up the stairs towards Nia’s apartment knowing that he was still early for their meeting but finding he was unable to focus on anything else. Despite this mild sense of panic he had managed to finish the final few lines of code Nia had given him to do and so using the pretext of handing it over had decided to meet her at her apartment instead of the restaurant and with any luck she’ll be panicking as much as I am or at least that was what he hoped anyway.
And so being sure to knock on her apartment door in the prescribed way John waited for Nia to answer.
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Zani
“That was one time ok! And he was like a con man or something” Rebecca sulked knowing that they’d never let her live it down. The Library had needed a new microfilm reader and the rep that the company had sent had been cute so she’d tried to use her “womanly wiles” to get them a discount. However things had rapidly spiralled out of control so he’d shown her multiple special offers, software packages and a sales patter that made everything seem like a bargain and personal favour to her meaning that by the time he was finished she had found herself agreeing to not only a new microfilm reader but an entire computer suite complete specialist software to run it. Thankfully at this point her manager had gotten wind of the situation and had sent a red faced Rebecca back to her desk whilst she explained to rep that they really only wanted a microfilm reader. To make matters worse it also turned out that the cute rep had been gay and not interested in her in the slightest.
“Fine, you go and negotiate with him and I’ll go and take another look around” she said before moving off to take a look at one of the other pieces within the exhibition.
Marked by a piece of paper taped to the door with the artists name neatly printed upon it, Zani stepped into a small and rather non-descript office after being told to “come in” by the voice behind the door.
The artist was a tall thin man dressed in jeans and a white shirt with the neck open; his long dark hair tied in a ponytail and a pair of glasses giving him a slightly bookish if not entirely unattractive air. Looking up from the book on his desk, he removes his glasses as Zani enters the room and places them in his top pocket before smiling and asking in a friendly if very well educated voice “Good afternoon and how may I help you today?”
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Jonathon
The shift was quiet with only the minor catastrophe of the break room running out of milk requiring one of his colleagues to make a quick run to the shops being the most memorable part. However the quietness did mean that Jonathon was able to read a large portion of the book he gotten from the library and finally locating if not his monster then something that was very close.
The sketch like all the others within the book was crude at best but there was no mistaking it for the thing he’d seen at the window; a creature with glossy black skin covering an emaciated frame with long sharp claws and a face with neither eyes, nose or ears. A pair of large bat like wings also went a long way to explaining how it had gotten to the second storey window and then disappeared so quickly when confronted. The creature which Jacqueline had neglected to name was a denizen of what she called the Dreamlands, a realm that was the main focus of the books ramblings and after reading said ramblings Jonathon was still unable to discern whether the creature was malevolent or benign, intelligent or animal or even if it was capable of being killed.

When his shift finally came to an end and he stepped into the near empty parking lot Jonathon caught the briefest glimpse of a winged shape disappearing into the early morning sky. It was probably just a bird but considering what he’d been reading for most of the night it wouldn’t be surprising if his mind leapt to other more malevolent conclusions.
It was as he was approaching the Porsche that he noticed the flat tyre, no not flat, slashed! Somebody had slashed his car’s front tyre on the driver’s side. An engine starting nearby momentarily draws his attention as a car that had been parked just outside of the parking lots perimeter fence started to pull away; the flaring of a cigarette within momentarily revealing a man’s face before both man and car were long gone before he could do anything about it.
 

DeletedUser37114

Nia was just thinking of getting up to prepare for dinner when a knock came at her door (she really liked this door, it relayed knocks loud enough to notice but not enough to be rude, just how she liked it). Judging from the rhythm, not only was it John, but he had to be feeling a little unsettled himself (normally he would have just knocked whatever way he wanted, which meant she would have known it was him anyway, but...), probably from the dinner... Nia jumped a little when she realized what time it was. No wonder John was here and nervous, she'd spent more time than she'd thought putting herself back together and there wouldn't be much time for her to change (though she was quick and wasn't planning on wearing any makeup and from what she'd seen in the closet, her dress was anxious to get out and show off a little) if they were to get to the meeting on time. Quickly, Nia rushed to the door, opened it for John (he'd know how to be in her apartment and not fiddle and faddle and change around everything), then rushed back into her room and closed the door, shucking her comfortable clothes to quickly get her dress worn, her key still swinging around her neck (uncomfortable with all the haste, but it knew enough about what was going on that it wasn't put off by it).
 
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Deleted User - 819397

Zani stepped into the office to come face to face with an amusing blend of hipster artist and bookish scholar. She resisted the urge to laugh, realizing that it only made sense that a rising amateur would fit that bill. Besides, he was being friendly enough. Smiling, she shook his hand, saying, "It's nice to meet you, I'm Zani Nosho, a librarian at the local public library. Your painting…'The Tower'…one of my co-workers and I think it's a very nice piece…neither one of us can afford it, not even if we pool our money, but I was wondering how much it would be to get a print of it for the library?" She hesitated, then, carefully selecting her words, added, "Also, if you don't mind my asking…what was the motivation behind it? Is it based on a real place, or was it something that came to your mind?" It had to be a real place…there was no other reasonable explanation. One that she'd seen in a magazine before, or online. Otherwise…otherwise something was very, very wrong.
 

DeletedUser13682

It was an interesting read, this book, if you were into the ramblings and the rumblings and the horrowshow. It appeared that it was heavily inspired by Lovecraft’s works, though Johnathan didn’t find any reference to Antarctica. Mountains of Madness had been his favorite story after all. The giant penguins, the lost city, the experimentations. It was a pretty good read, but apparently hadn’t made Jacqueline’s minimum standards. What a shame. Oh well. Other than the missing milk prompting an off watch guy to make a food run (luckily Buffalo Wild Wings was still open), the night had given no other surprises; the reactor acted normally and power demand was being met well.

As morning came, so did the oncoming watch. After there had been a proper turnover, Johnathan made to leave, but not before grabbing a breakfast from the vending machine. Though he usually didn’t frequent Starbucks, he did very much like their bottled coffees, and always made sure to grab one before he left the plant. It seemed like it would be a good day. That is until he found out that somebody had slashed one of his Porsche’s tires. Why somebody would do such an act was beyond Johnathan. Though he loved the car and always had fun while driving it, it was a hassle when anything needed replaced, with some parts even requiring calls straight to Porsche HQ in Stuttgart. This wouldn’t be one of those cases, but it would mean he’d have to take the Land Cruiser for a few days. As he went to the frunk to get the donut out, he heard the sound of a strange engine. Nobody had anything like that. As Johnathan turned, he saw a strange car just outside the gate. Nobody owned a Vanden Plas 1300. That was the man who had slashed his tire. Singular. . Johnathan started running towards the 1300, slinging every insult from every port he had been to in its general direction. It of course did nothing to stop it, but it made him feel a bit better. The car drove off into the distance, and Johnathan went back to his car to put the spare on. He’d have to drive carefully and switch to the Chevota before heading to the library to complete his research on Jacqueline Fine.
 

DeletedUser28032

Zani
"Yes...it is rather expensive isn't it?" he replied in a wry tone of voice that said I know, but it wasn't my idea I am just the Muppet whose got to live with it "Sure I can have a print knocked up you, just leave me your number and I'll give you a call when its ready" he said with a charming smile, a smile that only got broader as he was asked where he'd gotten his inspiration from "Oh I doubt its a real place, not one I've ever seen anyway..." he said with a laugh clearly happy to be discussing his work with somebody who actually seemed interested in the answer for a change "...Now you're going to find this awfully silly but I saw it in a dream, ridiculous I know but that’s where I get the inspiration for all my paintings I must be eating too late at night or something because you wouldn't believe the things I have seen whilst I've been a sleep...Its like stepping into a whole new world"
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Nia
No sooner had Nia opened the door that she was gone again; the rattling of coat hangers from the next room leading John to believe that she was getting ready for their meeting "Its ok Nia you don't need to panic, I am early...I just couldn't sit around any longer" he called over to the closed bedroom door "...also FYI I think your neighbour thinks we're dating" he finished not sure how she'd take this little titbit of information but decided she'd better know all the same.
Settling himself down in one of the chairs, John placed the flash drive containing the code and the twenty that Nia had given him earlier onto the table; using one to weight down the other as he proceeded to wait. He'd never had to wait on Nia getting ready before...or at least not in her apartment, but his limited experience of waiting for girls to get ready led him to believe that he would be waiting for quite some time.
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Jonathan
Despite the missing tyre the drive back home was uneventful as it had been on every other occasion however as he pulled up onto to the driveway it was clear the slashed tyre wasn't the only misfortune to befall his property this night.
Staring up at the bedroom window, Jonathan would be able to make out the deep gouges within the window frame, the broken pane of glass and what appeared to be a bullet hole in the brick work close by, however the fact that their were no policemen awaiting his arrival meant that nobody had thought to report the gun shot if there had indeed been one.
To add insult to injury somebody had also carved a strange looking star shape into his front door with a knife so deep that it would take more than a coat of paint to obliterate it...funny thought how that symbol looked familiar.
 

Deleted User - 819397

The artist was rather amiable, and Zani couldn't help but smile back at him as he ruefully agreed about the price. She'd have to remember to tell Rebecca that the asked-for sum hadn't been his idea. He agreed to make a print for them, and Zani pulled out a business card to hand to him…even though people only rarely asked for the library's number as it was in the public phone book, she found carrying a couple of these for situations like this was worth the trouble getting them made. Plus it was always a nice way to hint to her boss that she was as dedicated outside the building as in when someone called asking for her specifically. "Thank you, I think it'll make a great addition to the decor."

Her normal behavior came to a sudden end when the artist explained he didn't think the tower really existed, but he'd seen it in a dream. Her expression froze as she tried to reconcile this information…it couldn't be. It wasn't possible. No two people could see the same imagined tower in dreams. It wasn't possible. She'd dreamed of this for years, and if he'd just recently painted it…it wasn't possible. There was no way. It wasn't possible. In a tense voice, her face ashen, eyes unfocused, she managed to get out "T-that can't be right…I…I've dreamed of the same tower…for years…all the details are the same. All of them. I…how could we dream the same thing? Especially if it doesn't actually exist?" She knew she was making a bit of a big deal of this, but she hated it when logic defied itself. The two of them quite simply could NOT have both dreamed of the same non-existant structure. If they had…then her orderly life would be upturned by this knowledge until she could reconcile it with some fact…no, there had to be some mistake. It wasn't possible.
 

DeletedUser31931

Boris felt slightly guilty as she called on Dmitri's promise to help her. He didn't even know her or this Dmitri, still, it felt wrong to not help a woman in trouble. His mother would be so proud, he thought sarcastically, going to help some woman in god knows where because of a random phone call he had just received. He made a note of the address before she hung up and he pulled out his phone, finding a route on the maps app before heading down to the garage of his apartment block to pick up his motorbike. She was a beauty, he'd picked her up from a junk dealer and spent the better part of an extended weekend with two ex-engineer corps friends fixing her up. She ran beautifully now and she wasn't even that expensive on gas, meaning she was a luxury he could afford to have. She was smooth and sleek and made a surprisingly low amount of noise but with all of the tuning she could get up to over 140MPH if he really pushed her. He unlocked her from where she was chained before getting on and starting up the engine. It'd probably take him about half an hour or so to get to the address that he'd been given. With a slight sigh to himself and still questioning why on earth he was doing this he set off on his motorbike. His phone conveniently affixed to his handlebar ensured that he could see where he was supposed to be going at a given moment.
 

DeletedUser13682

As the sun rose ever higher that morning, Johnathan reflected on who would want to slash one of his tires like that. He didn’t think he had any enemies in the States, well nobody that hated him enough to do something like that. Maybe somebody from a foreign port had somehow made it to America just to annoy himself. Perhaps just random hoodlums who just wanted to get some angst out. But Johnathan didn’t think any of those possibilities were very likely. The plant was fairly well guarded, and that Vanden Plas had definitely not belonged to any hoodlum. But who then? Who disliked Johnathan enough to slash one of his tires, but didn’t hate him enough to slash all of them? That was the nagging question stuck in the back of Johnathan’s mind as he uncharacteristically drove slowly back home.

When he arrived, a very bad sight greeted him. His house had been ransacked or looted or at least vandalized. The day was quickly turning very sour indeed, and Johnathan didn’t know why. He inspected the damage; at least his bedroom window was destroyed, as well as the window frame. A bullet had nicked the brickwork, and somebody had carved a star into his front door. Johnathan entered the house, looking for more damage. As he did so, he called the local police department directly. “This is John Kingsbury; I’d like to report a vandalism. No, nobody’s hurt. They aren’t here anymore. I don’t know; I’m looking right now. Ok thank you.”

After giving him his address, Johnathan headed to his bedroom and plugged his phone into its charger. He then went into the back of his closet where he kept his gun safe. He hoped he wouldn’t have had to do something like this, but Johnathan now felt no choice. He had to conceal carry, despite his permit still being a month away at least. From his safe, he pulled out a Bren Ten, a gift to himself after his reenlistment off the coast of Korea. He loaded up the three magazines he’d managed to find for it, and put it in a pocket holster. He’d keep it on him until this all blew over. Johnathan then sat down at his computer and began some research on Jacqueline Fine as he waited for the police to show up for his official statements.
 

DeletedUser28032

Boris
The Sunset Motel was almost a perfect replica of the old Hollywood stereotype; a rundown building with peeling graffiti’d paintwork, grimy windows and a large neon sign that didn’t work properly. The place was a dive, a hangout for junkies and low class prostitutes and were it not for the police cruiser currently parked in the litter strewn parking lot; wedged between a beat up white transit van and a rusting Chevy on bricks, he would no doubt have been approached by someone offering to “watch his bike” .
The main desk was located on the ground floor beside a pair of padlocked garages; a bored looking receptionist was sat reading a magazine behind the wire mesh windows with only a broken water fountain and a vending machine for company. However Cynthia had given him her room number as part of the address so whether he decided to go in was entirely up to him.
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Zani
“Oh dear...I didn’t mean to startle you, here you’d better sit down for a while, you’ve gone a right peculiar colour” he said placing a steadying arm about her shoulders and leading her over to the swivel chair behind his desk “Would you like me to get you a cup of water from the cooler? It’s only in the hallway” he asked obviously feeling responsible for her current state Zani was in. Yet despite these obvious feelings of guilt a sudden intrigued look came to the artist’s face as he lowered his voice to an excited whisper “you’ve really seen it haven’t you? Have you ever gone inside? Sorry listen to me babbling on, and you looking like you’ve just seen a ghost...though I have to say I am slightly surprised after all it was a Native American that told me about dream walking” no sooner had the last sentence left his lips that a look of horror appeared on the artists face “oh I do apologise I didn’t mean to cause any offense, I hope I didn’t get it wrong, I am so dreadfully sorry”
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Jonathan
After unlocking his front door and going inside Jonathan would find that apart from some broken glass and wood splinters upon his bedroom floor that all of his belongings were exactly in the same position and condition as he had left them.
Searching the internet for Jacqueline Fine produced nothing that he hadn’t already found in the newspaper archives at the library with the exception of the location of her family home which was a short drive away on the outskirts of town.

The police arrived promptly and did a commendably thorough job despite the early hour at which they’d been summoned; photographing the damaged door and window, locating the bullet casing and asking Jonathan the usual questions of; did he have any enemies? Had there been any threats? Did he have any idea what the symbol meant?
Once their questions had been answered the pair of police officers left a card with Jonathan before leaving, stating that they’d ask his neighbours whether or not they’d seen or heard anything, Though with nothing stolen and nobody hurt it wasn’t exactly going to be a high priority case.
 

DeletedUser37114

With John in her apartment and apparently early and settled down, Nia relaxed a bit (if he was sat down there was limited trouble he could get in) and ignored the comment about what her neighbor thought (wasn't her job to police that). She should have figured that John would be early since it was an odd day (though it was better that he was early today than late), but she needed to get ready anyway and now that she was in her closet in her underthings there wasn't any reason to ignore the dress. It was a simple one, as she preferred, in a sapphire blue that left her arms bare and almost brushed the ground (and was a very happy dress when it got out, though it tended to mope in her closet). With an easy slip over her shoulders, and arms through, and the skirts settled and stockings on (also happy to see some use, though Nia didn't like them as much), she was done and out of her bedroom.

John was sitting at the table, thankfully, though she'd have to move the chair back in place (that one didn't like being anywhere outside its chosen spot, which was why she rarely used it), but overall the only things that were out of order were John himself and the flash drive on the table. She picked up the drive (which was so bored she wondered how John could stand using it), walked back into her room, leaving the door open so that John could follow her, and booted up her computer, slipping his USB into the slot next to hers. She knew what was on it (and was glad John had finished that portion of the code), but it was always a good idea to keep multiple copies of a project around and having that code on both their drives would be safest.
 

DeletedUser13682

“Are you sure? Nothing you can think of that would cause someone to do this?” Johnathan shook his head. “Sorry. Nobody here. Nobody that does hate me knows me anyway. If they did, I doubt any of them would know where to find me.” After the police officer had written the last of Johnathan’s statement down, she handed him a card. “They’ll fix your house up right. Won’t even notice the damage.” After slipping the card in his wallet, Johnathan gave a thanks and showed the police officer to the door. After giving the company a call, Johnathan input Jacqueline’s address into his phone’s GPS. Turned out it wasn’t too far away; it would only take up part of an afternoon to go there and back. And it was also down some pretty curvy roads that one could have fun driving down. If that person had a good, fun car to drive down those roads. Unfortunately, his Porsche would be unable to make the trip, what with that donut the man in the 1300 had forced the poor car to don. As such, he was forced to rely on his Tacoma. Despite being a very reliable, and in its own right, fun, little truck, it wasn’t quite able to bring as much excitement as the Porsche could. Before he left, Johnathan cleaned up the house a bit and gave the repair company a call. After that was done, Johnathan got into his truck, plugged his phone into the audio jack, set his new favorite Pandora station, and drove off to discover what lay within Jacqueline Fine’s house, and hopefully explain what, and more importantly why, was happening to Johnathan.
 

Deleted User - 819397

Zani sank into the proffered chair, numb. The artist asked if she wanted a glass of water, to which she managed to get out a quiet 'no thank you.' He then asked if she'd been inside, before saying that it was a Native American who had told him about Dream Walking. He quickly apologized, clearly afraid she'd take offense to what he'd said. This snapped her out of her state somewhat, she needed to make sure he didn't give up on the conversation due to his embarrassment. "No offense taken…I'm Navajo myself, we don't have anything like Dream Walking…my people are too afraid of death…they'd think they'd died if they tried something like that." She spoke nonchalantly, both trying to reassure the poor man and imply that this belief, unlike others, had not been something she'd taken with her. "But still…how is it that two people can dream of the same fictitious place?" This still very much bothered her, as there was no logical way that was possible. "I've never been inside, no…only seen it from a distance, like your painting. I've never seen anyone in the window like your work though…what…what do you think caused this? We can dream of places that don't exist, that's certainly true, but for two people to do so in that much detail, without having ever met? What's with that?"
 

DeletedUser28032

Zani
The artist was clearly relieved when Zani confirmed that she was in fact of Native American origins and that no offense had been taken him having mentioned it; even going so far as to explain that her particular tribe didn’t believe in Dream walking. He couldn’t remember from which tribe the gentleman he’d spoken to was from. He was almost certain that he’d been told but for the life of him he couldn’t remember which, only that the man’s grandfather had been a medicine man and more importantly that he had been able to explain what was happening to him.
Crouching down beside a still rather pale looking Zani, he listened as she went over the same ground over and over asking how it was possible that they cold both have the same dream about a tower that didn’t exist “Well isn’t it obvious?” he said with an amused smile on his face “...the tower is real, it just happens to be in a world we’re only capable of visiting whilst we’re asleep...look I’ll tell you what I’ll do, here’s where I am staying” he said scribbling the name of a hotel along with his room number onto a scrap of paper and handing it to her ”...come and see me around eight-ish and I’ve got some notes from when I spoke with the medicine man they may be able to help you better understand what’s happening, I’d love to talk with you some more only your friend seems to be getting rather impatient” he said nodding his head towards Rebecca who was indeed looking rather impatient as she stood outside the office checking her watch “as I said come and see me tonight, no strings attached I just want to help and besides...if you’ve seen half the things that I’ve seen then it should make for a very interesting chat”

Nia
“Wow you look...nice” and nowhere near as weird as you usually do John said as Nia finally emerged from her room resplendent in a blue dress she’d picked for the occasion. He’d have almost been tempted to ask her out if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew full well how weird she was and there no way in hell he was going to deal with that on a full time basis.
Following her into her room John watches as Nia makes a back up copy before then examining the code “I think I’ve managed to find a work around for those issues that we encountered...or at least stop the entire system from crashing like last time” he said from his position behind her shoulder; his eyes scanning the code in front of him searching for any potential mistakes.
Once Nia had finished with his work the pair of them would make their way down to the restaurant: arriving slightly early just as they had planned to do.
Possessing a high level of wealthy class Silvio’s was the kind of place where it was hard not to find it all so intimidating; the whole place seemingly trying its best to make you feel like you didn’t belong and that your presence was only tolerated at best. No sooner had they entered the restaurants elegant entrance hall that they were approached by a suave Italian gentleman asking whether he could help them “Yes we’re here to meet Mr. De’Ath we...we should have a reservation” John replied doing his best not to sound nervous and only partially succeeding “Ah yes we’ve been expecting you, right this way” the man replied without even checking the list of names before him; beckoning for them to follow him.
They were led through the restaurants main seating area over to an empty booth; the two either side also conspicuously empty considering the number of people sat elsewhere “Mr De’Ath has instructed me to inform you that he will be a little late but that you should feel free to order whilst you wait and place the bill on his tab, and so can I get either of you anything to drink?”

Jonathan
Driving around the bend in the road Jonathan was greeted by the sight of a large civil war era farmhouse; it’s broad sweeping gravel driveway leading to the front of the house where a modest looking car and a small removal van were currently parked.
Although obviously well cared for the house had seen better days; its white paint was faded and peeling, the once pristine gravel drive was strewn with weeds and it would be a foolhardy child indeed that risked the swing hanging from the limb of the single large tree that stood out front.
The house’s large front doors slowly opened to allow two men carrying an obviously heavy armoire to make their way towards the waiting van followed by a dark haired woman in her mid to late forties who upon seeing Jonathan would smile warmly at him before resuming to direct the harassed looking removal men as they loaded the armoire onto the van.
 

Deleted User - 819397

The artist offered the explanation that the tower they'd seen existed in a dream world of sorts, something Zani had a hard time accepting. How could a world exist that connected people while they were asleep? It bordered on ridiculous! However, at the moment anyway, a better explanation didn't exist, so…but even so…

She snapped herself away from her musings before they became circular again, in time to hear the artist offer to have her come to his hotel room later on, no strings attached. Suspicion and desire to know more entered a battle in her head…she knew nothing about this man other than he was an artist and apparently had the same dreams she did…could she trust him? Her decision was made on a level of pragmatism…she had her taser. If things went south, she'd zap him and get out. Simple as that. Coming to that conclusion, she took the paper and rose from her chair. "Ok…I'll do that, then. Thanks for your help and willingness to do the print, I appreciate it…I'll see you tonight then." After shaking his hand, she exited the office to meet up with Rebecca. "Sorry about that, we got bogged down in discussion involving the motivations behind the piece. Get an artist thinking you're fascinated with every bit of it and the price of what you're asking for goes down quite a bit." There were no lies in her statement, they were both completely true. However, they were not meant to be put together, and Zani knew her friend would do so, which was all the better…she didn't want anyone to know just how those discussions had gone…they'd think she was crazy…heck, SHE thought she was crazy right now…
 
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