Nebula Seattle

10/18/2025

Dream Detective Drew Quinn descends beneath Seattle’s Aurora Bridge to confront the 2nd Historical Anomaly in our search for all nine!

What begins as a scavenger hunt for hidden clues becomes a surreal encounter with time, stone, and secrets buried under the city.

This spooky, immersive Seattle ARG takes you through real Seattle landmarks, online encounters, and hidden portals that connect us in a shared dream world called Nebula.

Join the investigation, running through November 2nd 2025.
www.theoddandthecurious.com

Featuring Jackie Miedema as Drew Quinn with costumes by House of Daggers Design

10/11/2025

What to bring on your investigation to find the 9th Historical Anomaly of Seattle. Please see the attached photo. From clockwise.

1. Phone charger

2. Seattle Pride

3. Fetching yet discreet satchel

4. Bumbershoot

5. headphones for the audio portion.

Not pictured. Wonder. And the smartphone used to take this picture.

Curious? Join the investigation www.theoddandthecurious.com

10/09/2025

Dream Detective Drew Quinn is on the hunt for Seattle’s first anomaly — Tick, tick, tick.. do you know where they are?

This immersive, spooky scavenger hunt unfolds across real Seattle landmarks, blending history, mystery, and hidden clues in a living ARG.

Follow Drew as time stops, portals flicker, and the city’s forgotten secrets tick back to life.

Join the investigation today: www.theoddandthecurious.com
Running through Halloween 2025

Featuring Jackie Miedema as Detective Drew Quinn with Costumes by House of Daggers Design.

10/07/2025

It's clear that information from NebTech has leaked.

Happenings and missives from a collection of oddly curious and curiously odd.

10/06/2025

Something is coming. Dream Detective Drew Quinn has been spotted in Downtown Seattle. What are they investigating? And why? We are looking forward to your findings.

Be mindful and check your inbox (good gumshoes know to look in that promotions folder).

Not a part of our email list? Join now and be the first to join the hunt for the next portal opening in Seattle. Link in bio

09/07/2025

Has anyone seen Drew Quinn?

Our Dream Detective was last seen on the Nebula sub-reddit ranting about repeating timelines. This could be passed off as delusion, were we not well aware of Drew’s uncanny ability to visit Nebula with accuracy and frequency. Seattle’s portal activity must be increasing. Stay Alert.

Featuring Jackie Miedema as Drew Quinn
Costumes by House of Daggers Design

08/28/2025

Field Report: Merce Cunningham Disappearance | Circa 1938
Recovered by: The Odd & the Curious Society

During the 1938 production of Skinny Structures at Cornish College of the Arts, dancer Merce Cunningham reportedly vanished for three days. His rehearsal accompanist, the emerging composer John Cage, searched Cunningham’s lodgings with no success.

When Cunningham returned, he believed only a single night had passed, citing “a good night’s sleep… with astounding dreams.” Witnesses described a subtle shift in his presence. From that point forward, Cunningham’s movement took on a near-mystical quality. Guided, some said, “by the hand of God.”

Over the years Merce and Cage were inseperable. In a 1990 Guardian interview on the prepared piano, Cage recalled:

Cage: “The hope was to influence reality for the better. It’s clear I’ve failed.”
(overheard from the kitchen)
Cunningham: “We can only be made better as humanity if we find another gateway... It’s no longer available.”

We believe this “gateway” was one of the early portals to Nebula, accessed in the Dance Department of Cornish College of the Arts in the 1930s..

Dreamers: when art and anomaly converge, the boundary between worlds becomes a bridge. Discuss.

Pictured: Kerry Hall, the former Cornish building, seat of the program in the 30s.

Merce and John, from the Merce Cunningham Dance Company

Skinny Structures, Merce's choreographed production, in 1938.

08/17/2025

Field Notes: Rain Nguyen – Subject: Seattle Central Library
Location ID: NEB-PUB-SPL-001

As soon as I stepped through the diamond-patterned doors, I knew I wasn’t alone. Sure, I was one of hundreds of high schoolers exploring the city’s new library in the hopeful first years of the new millennium. But something about this place vibrated differently.

The design didn’t just suggest inspiration, it radiated recollection. Someone had been to Nebula.

The Book Spiral… the unnaturally vivid Red Floor… the shafts of filtered light cutting through geometric glass like memory through deja vu, these are not coincidences. They’re signals. Architectural breadcrumbs for those of us paying attention.

I followed the light. Literally. It led me to Rem Koolhaas, the Dutch architect behind the building. In his lesser-read journals, I found references. Yes, half-theory, half-confession (but what else are dream journals?) They told of dreams shaping form, steel as conduit, glass as a vessel. He once wrote:

“When one sees steel and diamonds every day, and even in dreams, one must follow them.”

So I did. And every time I ride those escalators, I feel the transference. The tug toward my dream-self. I suspect this library wasn’t built for Seattle.
It was built to contain something. Or someone.

More to come.

– Rain Nguyen
Archivist, The Odd & the Curious Society

08/03/2025

The 3:33 bell - account of Chad Channing, 1989.

“Union Station was dead quiet. It had been closed for years, nobody cared, like most of that neighborhood at the time. If you gigged in the area, the old train depot was a place for squattors, big benches, sleep it off, before the ride back south. Sometimes we played underground shows there, nothing big, we just wanted to hear what we sounded like under that big dome. We always aimed for a late night, and here’s why.

Halfway through the set, at 3:33am, yes one of the clocks still worked, a bell rang. Not a ding, a toll, a gong to wake the dead. The kind of sound that goes right through you.

The first time it happened I remember looking at Kurt and Krist, we froze. What bell. The bells were long gone, the station had been shut up since '71.

We played louder, to drown it out? To follow it? So it became a thing. We played there often. Never too many people showed up.

Creeped me out. But so did a lot about that time.

Archivist Note (Rain Nguyen): Dream portals have often opened in the presence of artists and musicians. Union Station is just one of many Seattle locations where proximity to performance seems to bends reality and open the Nebula.

07/26/2025

Have you ever noticed how few mirrors there are in the grand ballroom at Oddfellows Hall? There’s a reason.

In 1912, the hall was home to a dancing academy in the 2nd floor ballrooms and a funeral parlor at street level. One night, during a class, young Helen Reitan claimed she glanced into the long mirrors set between the windows and saw not her classmates, but the reflection of an open casket. Below, an embalmer later reported a line of dancers filing silently through his overhead mirror, skirts swishing across the floor of his parlor.

Was it the mass reverie of dozens of dancers paired with the stillness of the dead that opened a portal to Nebula that evening? Afterward, many mirrors in the building were taken down, or left forever shrouded in heavy curtains.

Oddfellows Hall at 915 East Pine still stands, still holds many dances. And if you’re very quiet while crossing its ballroom floor, you may feel a rhythm faintly beneath your feet, the shudder of the long dead.

07/18/2025

In the 1940s, an intern at The old Seattle Times building stumbled across a skeleton key labeled simply “Sub-N”. No further details. With curiosity outweighing caution, he followed his hunch below the pressroom into a forgotten archive where articles were filed not by byline, but by energy signature.

Dreams of missing persons. Lights that blinked in Morse Code intervals over Queen Anne Hill. A recurring figure, called “The Printer” who appeared to journalists in slumber, whispering a deadline to God knows what.

These clippings, most handwritten, were tagged with the symbol that has appeared several times in Nebula archives.

Could there be a hidden room of Nebula research, supported by Seattle’s own Pulitzer Prize winning news source? Were the files moved to the new building upon demolishing of the old? Or did they disappear amongst the wreckage?

The intern never completed his shift, but his journal entry documenting this finding made its way into our files.

07/12/2025

Most Seattleites stroll around Green Lake without giving Duck Island a second thought. That the little clump of trees and brush near the northern edge of Green Lake is adorable and picturesque, what of it?

Constructed in 1936 under the WPA, Duck Island was meant to serve as a wildlife refuge. But records show that during its construction, a young laborer named Mateo Reyes vanished. His tools were found neatly stacked on the shoreline. His mother later reported receiving a postcard of a handdrawn mallard signed only “M.R.” and postmarked from a city that doesn’t exist (on this astral plane, at least).

To this day, no one is permitted to set foot on the island. Park rangers claim it’s for the protection of nesting birds, but locals know: the island moves. Sometimes subtly, sometimes dramatically, and just before dawn. Witnesses claim the island appears farther west than it was the night before. Some say the ducks that live there migrate not just through air, but through dreams, carrying important messages between sleepers.

In 1959, famed University of Washington coxswain Stan Pocock reported seeing a “barefoot man in a wool vest” sitting silently on the shore of Duck Island during early morning crew practice. The man was gone a moment later, and the ducks that morning flew in concentric circles instead of their usual V.

If you find yourself near Green Lake at dawn, look to the island. But don’t try to step foot on it. Some doors open only one way.

Dream Record #0113-GreenLake-DI
Reported by R. Nguyen, Archivist