Colin stepped into the bank vault area and the guard closed the door behind him with a hiss. There alone with the contents of his safety deposit box, he sat down at the desk. He chided himself for even bothering with all this, he had a lot of work and pleasure to be attending to. But it was nagging at his mind. Sitting down, he unlocked the box with his key and tilted it open.

There was the journal, undisturbed, along with the collection of very precious stones. They were all accounted for, and the box had been locked up tight all night. Anyone who could manage to break into this bank would have taken it all, he was sure of that, there was a fortune in that box.

Cracking open the book he let out a groan when he saw it. More writing. It could not be disputed. Settling down in the chair he read. He smiled a grim smile at the last addition. No harm in sharing, right? it read. That was where Colin apparently differed from the others. Colin was the prominent owner of a conglomerate of companies worth a fortune, highly analyzed and highly traded. This whole thing could be a hoax somehow meant to smear him or get info from him. And best scenario, it wasn't, but it could still make him look like a lunatic and plunge the stock through the floor. These others might have no reason to hide, but not him.

Hesitantly slipping out his pen, he put it to paper, wondering if it was appearing in someone else's book this very moment.

I have to accept that this is happening, somehow. But I'm not about to put my name out there, not knowing who else is reading this, and not knowing the motives of this mysterious one setting this all up. Have any of you thought about that? Why is someone drawing us together and making us expose personal information? Am I the only one here with something to lose?

But yes, I do have dreams. I've had nightmares, all my life. Ones I'm not sure I want to share. Others that have to do with places I've been, some of them before I've been there.

I shouldn't say more.

Colin turned the book over and over in his hands, then opened it for the hundredth time and flipped through the pages. In his initial shock he had scrawled in it, not paying close attention. But upon study it was clear that there was different handwriting in it, different personalities writing in it. Despite his suspicions of some mentally disturbed person, it seemed each personality was as surprised and confused as him. Well, not the first one.

Let me suppose you are all real, for a moment, and not the imaginings of a deranged mind--mine or another's. One of you, the first, seems to know what is happening. I suppose it won't hurt to pander to this fantasy in here, I don't think I'm close enough to a breakdown for it to become evidence.

What is happening here? Who are you? Are you each in Athens, and each possess a journal of your own? The first one who wrote, won't you tell us what is happening and why?

I do have dreams. I'm loathe to talk about them here. Anywhere. I don't dare sign my name either. I will prove this to myself one way or another. I will go and lock this journal somewhere very secure. We will see what I make of it in the morning.

Colin sat at the desk in his finely appointed hotel room. He flipped the black bound journal over in his hands a few times. He couldn't quite remember where he had gotten the thing, must have been some gift since it had his name on the front. Regardless he had a certain fondness for it. He had never been one for keeping a journal. Notes yes, he had always kept extensive notes about his ideas and plans. But since obtaining this item he had started putting down some of his thoughts, his inner life. Who knew why, but it pleased him.

Flipping the journal open tonight he froze, staring at the strange script that had appeared inside. Checking the front again, he confirmed that it was his, and of course he could see his past writings still there. Colin frowned, his face growing dark, wondering how someone had gotten into his room, even his personal things. He stared at it in anger for some moments before he even began to read. When he did finish reading he sat back in the chair, musing. It was a long time of silence before the dark windows before he put pen to paper.

I don't know who you are, or how you got access to this. God knows, you won't be able to get to it again once I speak to security. So, why am I writing in here? I don't know the answer to that. Just in case, I suppose.

Or, I do. What do you mean about dreams? I have questions about my dreams. I must have told somebody, but I don't think so. Who are you? I'll check the security tapes, I'll find out. We will talk, and you'll tell me what you know. No one invades my privacy like this and gets away with it. But why would you? What game are you playing at?

Hades, Haides, the Unseen One, Plouton

Function: King of the Underworld, keeper of the souls of the dead, Lord of Riches, ruler of the wealth of the underworld, all things underground

( Speak his name in vain )

location: Athens, Greece tags: info, ooc