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Who: Jacob Black & Abel Nightroad
What: Talking about freaky talking books
When: Christmas... Eve? Yes? No? What?
Where: The Nightroad ~~Nightclub~~ ~~Pad~~ ~~Bar & Grill~~ Residence
Rating: G

Jacob had never considered himself one to believe in legends, magic or anything that couldn't be logically explained. That kind of stuff was for fun or for kids, but definitely not something to be taken seriously.

So when he had gone home and torn apart the apartment looking for a book with his name on it, he expected to find a plain, ordinary diary filled with useless entries from his childhood. He hadn't ever cracked it open; remembering the past was embarrassing more often than it wasn't. If it meant putting some minds at ease, however, he'd humor the possibility that the book could very well be magical in nature. As far as he was concerned, the only magic that would happen would be if he didn't set the book ablaze from embarrassment.

He was wrong.

The first thing he'd noticed was that the handwriting--the multitude of handwriting--was not his. None of it was his. Nor were the voices he suddenly heard. Page after page, each with a different voice. Words appeared out of nowhere, and he found himself snapping the book shut. It just didn't make sense.

He opened it one more time, flipping through pages until he found what he was looking for. The very same words a total stranger had written in their own book now appeared clear as day in his.

Well, okay then.

He huffed, closing it and stuffing it in the inside pocket of his jacket. He promised he'd show it to Abel when he found it, after all. Of course, when he had first agreed, he was sure that there would be some sort of explanation for all of this. Now Jacob found himself with even more questions than before.

He walked across the hall to the next apartment, and knocked on the door.

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Taking a drink from his mug, he shrugged his shoulders. Normally he would have no trouble talking about things beyond explanation; legends, fables, scary bedtime stories, he had so many in his arsenal. But the difference here was that this wasn't just make believe, and he was having difficulty swallowing that fact.

"Yeah. I sat there and watched as words appeared on the page. I wasn't writing them. They just appeared there like someone invisible was writing them. I turned another page and saw water on it. There wasn't any water on any of the other pages, just that one.

"But strangest of all," he said, voice trailing a bit. He set the mug down and reached for the journal. Thumbing through the pages, he finally stopped on a blank page with words written only for him. He tried to show it to Abel.

"Right there. This person wrote this in front of me in his journal, and now I can see it in my journal. How does that even work?"

Seeing the confusion and disquiet in Jacob's eyes had him wishing he had a way to reassure it away, but this time... it was well-founded. Whatever this development in their little world was, and whatever direction it was headed in... he couldn't offer placating words, this time. Instead, all he could do was attempt to puzzle out what they had of the mystery together. But in this, he would do his best to be sure he made it as easy as possible... for the both of them.

None-the-less, he looks rather confused upon being granted access to an utterly blank page -- setting his own cup aside to reach out and take Jacob's journal with a quizzical blink. Adjusting his glasses on his nose, he runs a finger down the page as if in an attempt to figure out what he was supposed to be seeing... before returning his attentions to his company.

"...There are words here, for you? I don't see anything at all, Jacob."

Jacob almost leapt out of his chair at Abel's words. He leaned forward, sitting on the very edge of his seat and straining his neck to make sure he'd given him the right page. Sure enough, it was. So why was it blank--

Text filtered to Jacob Black...

"Let me see that," he said, a thought popping into his mind. If he was right, then this was another bizarre trick of the books, another step backward in finding an explanation for it all.

Pulling a pen from his pocket, he began to write upon the page. It wasn't some elaborate spell or some security code or anything that would actually make sense. It was plain words:

Text filtered to Abel Nightroad

Can you see this?

His eyes lifted to his friend's as he finished. "Check your book."

Abel watched his reaction with a soft concern; it seemed he wasn't the only one who had begun to get more than a little possessed by the strangeness of the situation. But he diligently waits, making no comment on this equally strange behavior -- until he was being regarded once again.

Check his book...?

He doesn't hesitate -- reaching for his own and flipping through the open pages. Sure enough... there is something he hadn't seen before -- which he was expecting; this thing seemed to change at any given moment without warning... but...

Ah?

"...you wrote this?" So, was that how the others had made their text appear upon the page? He runs his fingers over the letters. "I don't understand. A 'filter?'"

So he wasn't imagining things; Abel saw it, too. He nodded, and then proceeded to scribble random swirls and jagged lines around the page to prove his point.

"I don't understand it any more than you do, but what I write in my book appears in yours. That is something I can't even... begin to try and figure out."

He shut his own journal, setting it aside for the moment.

"I'll admit, I haven't read or listened to anything in that journal yet." He allowed himself a small huff before he glanced up at Abel. "Have you?"

He hesitates as he watches the idle doodles appear on the page in his hands. It was surreal, even if he'd spent most of the past few days watching things like this miraculously occur since discovering the existence of this thing...

At Jacob's question, he gives the other his attention -- gently shutting his own volume with something of a slightly more sober expression.

"...I have."

If learning its capacity was unnerving, then... what was coming next was no tale to lend Jacob aid in putting his mind at any ease.

"These books... they're like... strange communication devices," he says, spreading his hands as he talks. It's clear from his tone he's not utterly solid on how all of this is possible, yet, but... he believes it as true for what it's worth. "This writing over distances... I don't know if it's some kind of technology, but-- I've met... others, with books like these. Around the city."

"Yeah, but why? I mean, who are these people? And why are they just showing up now? You would think that if this was possible before, we would've known about it earlier."

He leaned back in his chair, letting his head hit the back of it as he stared at the ceiling.

"I'd chalk it up to a Christmas miracle if that even made a little bit of sense, but this is just weird." A huff, and he lifted his head toward Abel. "Did they say anything else?"

Abel neglects the journals for now... instead reaching for his cup and simply settling for keeping it on his lap. There's a long stretch of heavy silence, weighted; he's thinking... debating, but...

It's only a matter of time before something strange happened to Jacob, too. These people were everywhere, and... better he walk into this with as much knowledge under his belt as possible. He wasn't sure what would happen, from hereon out...

"...there was a girl named Nanako, Jacob." The name should be familiar for obvious reasons; their youngest daughter bore the same namesake. "She has one of the books. Lilith and I went to see her."

He knows well enough how unique the name is, especially in Paris, and he shifts in his seat as Abel speaks. His brows furrow with confusion and concern.

"I met a girl named Nanako, just the other day. She's small, short brown hair in pigtails? I thought it was just a coincidence that she'd have the same name." He leans forward more. "Abel, she knew my name. And the whole time I was talking to her, I couldn't shake the feeling that she was familiar somehow, like I'd met her before."

But the fact that the Nightroads went to visit her?

"What happened when you met with her?"

He hadn't needed any additional proof that this girl was tied to this other... place, this other life, they had been a part of -- but it solidified with certainty that Jacob had been with them, too. Nanako wouldn't lie; if she knew him... then that meant...

...

How many others...? How many of the faces he's surrounded himself with in this life in the city... were tied to that 'other life?'

The shock is clear in his eyes, some revelation that had opened even more doors to additional possibility... and it takes a few moments to process before he can gather his wits together enough to respond.

"...we've forgotten something very important," he says quietly, almost absently, still half-lost in thought even as he answers. "That girl... as soon as I saw her open the door..."

He shakes his head, focusing on Jacob across from him seriously. "I don't know how to explain. I don't know that we can find an explanation, even if we tried... but these people--" He holds up the journal, "...are tied to us. Nanako... I remember taking care of her. I remember Lilith and I taking her in, and her being beyond precious to us, Jacob. Remember making a mess of the kitchen cooking pancakes and reading her bedtime stories. I remember it, even if... I can't remember where, or when, or..."

Lord, it sounds insane... but it's true. It's true, God help them, it's... just... true.

His own memories have yet to resurface, but the familiarity is there even if rather vague at this point. Still, Jacob can't deny the concern and belief in Abel's eyes. As close as he is to the Nightroads, he's not about to doubt him for a second.

He exhales, bringing a hand up to rub at his face. He isn't sure what to say at this point, or if there is anything he can even do. All he knows is that a lot of people have been telling him he has forgotten something, and now it suddenly makes more sense.

"Do you think she or anyone else can tell us what it is? Jog our memories a bit more? I'm gonna be honest, I thought this was all just some BS coincidence, but I mean... I'm not gonna doubt you. You've never steered me wrong before."

Right?

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