Doors

[comm to eddie n.]

[Later in the afternoon, just after finishing her shadowing with the social worker. Beeep beep beep.]

[After this, all in a box, a small vase sits outside the Harry Potter Door in the hotel, dutifully placed by an eyerolling Shane. Wrapped in tissue paper next to it is another flower. There's a note, folded with Marina's name on it and a promise of a jinx should anyone else touch it, in James' messy hand attached:]

Isn't this disgusting? I am a man of his word. The second one's for your hair. Happy Belated Valentine's Day.

Yours,
James Potter

[Below the crease, there's a postscript.]

You can make this up to me by allowing Lily through the Door soon. Ta!

[After this.]

I do not appreciate my carriage being destroyed by some 'opera ghost'. There is no opera ghost, just people who are determined to be a nuisance.

Tantrums are unattractive, both in those that are real and those that are make believe. I would hope that whoever is responsible can see to it that they be less destructive in the future.

[Midnight, and the Opera House is silent. No one, or so it seems, notices the carriage which pulls up discreetly on the street outside nor the man who exits. The driver, once he regains consciousness much later, can provide little detail of what occurs next. He is knocked out from behind, dragged away from the scene and left in a darkened alleyway. The horses are freed, spurred into galloping away and disappearing into the night.

The fire begins with a small flame which quickly spreads, consuming the carriage and turning it into a blazing inferno which lights up the darkness. Soon a crowd gathers to watch, until the flames are doused and all that is left is smoke and charred, blackened remains.

Later that day, during rehearsals within the Opera House, another event of note occurs. In the middle of a scene multiple heavy backdrops crash down upon the performers, injuring some and frightening all present, while costumes and props are discovered destroyed in the back rooms. It is no accident, and whispers of the Opera Ghost travel in the dormitories and up and down the corridors throughout the day.]

[Bruce W.]

[Left in the batcave is an elaborately secure, locked safe that could rival that fridge Indy used to survive a nuke. It's got a digital lock and a green post-it note next to the input pad:]

"Message me for the pw"

[Locked to Daniel W]
[As the Cat.]

Lead lattice work under fish belly with crown glass teeth bared and a moldering reputation. Your mind sees, sees, seas, your nose hears, hears, here. Yours eyes ayes, Egyptian blue, ugly, bloodied on --- what could it be? Heraldry of chambers, Thibaut's pear. Silphium on a serpent's tongue. Tick, tick, tick. Do you call that human nature? I do not believe there is such a thing, Daniel.

[Group lock: Diana P, Bruce W]

I listened to Oliver speaking with the council. They said he had defected and turned traitor. I heard them say he is loyal to Batman. They did not know I was there.

[As Steve R, in the hard, straight lines of mid-century handwriting. The words appear with a beat between each, as if someone was waiting for a response on the other side.]

E mail

E mail set up

Wireless not radio

Inter Net

Google

[When the Google does not work, Steve gives up. He sketches instead. Pencil on yellowing paper, he ends up with a rough outline of a dancer, then puts the pencil down to try to figure out what's going on.]

ETA much later: [Locked to Thor]
Thor?