Doors

[Message left on MK's answering machine]

Yes, Miss Robinson? This is Doctor Adam Waterhouse with your monthly check up. How are your blood glucose levels? Any sprains to the anterior talofibular ligament? Please call me back urgently or else these gambling devices will relieve me of all my monies.

[Public as Adam W.]

I've been in town for exactly three weeks and have already removed five utensils from unspeakable places. When will people learn that sporks only have two creditable uses?

[after this]

[public]
Is it just me or is it a little too early for fireworks? Pretty sure 4th of July isn't until...uh, July.

[locked to peter p.]
Did you see that?

[Both messages posted as Spider-Man.]

[pepper p.]

Hey there, you told me to keep you up to date on any weirdness? Well I don't know if you were over here last night, but the sky turned into a bad laser light show. All signs point to it being way out in space, so I can't confirm it has anything to do with Loki, but it seemed like the sort of thing your boss should know about. I'm getting in touch with the guy he's with too, my guy knows him.

[silver m.]

Hey man. I know we haven't had a proper introduction or anything, but you know Simon, right? I had a message for Tony, but I hear something happened and he's not around.

Is it normal to have a hangover after your other half drinks about a gallon of wine on the other side?

Right now, the world is too bright. And moving.

[As Dorian G. (marvelously cheeky without even a surname, he loves that), and in his distinctive handwriting.]

I must have someone to tea that does not insist upon discussing the false weather of false fake lives in our false London. It is getting positively tedious, and I only have eighteen more hours to be horribly bored.

[Text to Silver M/Tony S after talking to Spider-Man]

I know he spoke to you.  Do you feel up to coming through? I've reached out to my contacts, but thus far everyone is trying to figure it out.

Seeing as the invitations are pouring in, if we go through a door that belongs to someone else, who goes? Us or our dashing alter egos?

[as robb s.]

It has been far too long since I have had control of my own limbs.