Doors

[Locked to the Calendar Sibs]

[In the hours after he's home from the outpatient procedure, still a bit on the drugged side. The handwriting is a messy scrawl, made worse by the left-handed nature of it.]

So.

Did I tell you.

That Hansel is gone?

So, anybody know what happens to our headcases when we bite it?

[Phone call to Winnie O, after this.]

Ring!

[Group text to the Calendar sibs, after the above convo]

I'm coming home early, and I think you'll be getting your wish that I spend more time at home.

[A few days after these shenanigans.]


I owe you a clean car.

I know one of you is like, five feet away from me, but I was thinking about it, and ...do you think should we tell each other who we have in our heads? I mean, as brothers? Or is that not kosher? I don't really know how this works, but if I'm going to tell anyone, I figure it might as well be the two of you, seeing as I trust you and love you. I understand it could be dangerous, because what if we have mortal enemies?! But, I have a feeling that if that were the case, we'd know.

I fucked up my wrist, so you're getting this left-handed. [But surprisingly clear for that. Also dotted with Prussian Blue.]

I see new scribbles. Enjoying the hotel?

What is this strange sorcery?

I have heard tell of many strange devices from the East, the glasses that can see great distances but nothing of books that write in themselves.

Hello, mostly anonymous people in a notebook! I have another question for you. (Not you, Jan. You skip this entry.)

Let's start with a hypothetical: you've just come back to town, and need a place to stay, and your adorable best friend is awesome enough to let you crash at their place for a while. Weeks go by and you can't find a single place that you like better. At what point do you have to suck it up and move out so you're not a burden on your friend anymore? Hypothetically speaking?

PS - if this were twitter, I'd start a hashtag just for these kind of entries called #loganlearnslifelessons.

[Text to October F]
Toby, I have a huge favor to ask of you.

[After conversation with Toby: Text to March H]
We're in! But he's going to stay at the hospital tonight. Blah.

[Locked to March H and October F]

Hey, guys - someone here is looking for some doctors/a doctor. They didn't say for what, other than stressing confidentiality, and saying they needed bloodwork and a therapist. I don't know how you feel about helping an anonymous poster, but I told them I'd ask. If you go back a bit, you'll see the posting yourselves - they said to just contact them that way.

Hope you're both doing well! Love you!


[Added after Jan's convo with Toby: Locked to March H]

Marchhhhh. :(

Is there a doctor in the house? Discretion required.

[Private to Hook]

Where are you, old friend?

[Public]

If one were to move to Fabletown, what sort of advice would you give him?

This bullshit back home is going to make me crazy This place is fucking disappointing me lately with severe boredom. At least the people through the door are blowing shit up and doing magic tricks and shit. I came back here, and all people want to talk about is being sick or whatever.

So, theoretical question - ever fucked someone you didn't know and snuck out before they woke up? And why'd you do it? Because you felt like it? Because they told you they loved you in the middle of sex and you felt like that was kind of a sign of being badly adjusted? Because you couldn't deal with the awkward no exchanging of phone numbers conversation? Because you saw that collection of leather working tools on the coffee table and basically assumed they were going to murder you? Because you were too cheap to buy breakfast?

[As The Huntsman]

And I thought things could not become more strange than they already were.

[After this.]

[Group lock, January & October]
Either you folks know someone named Blake? How about Hunter? Figure what good are brothers for if they don't come with a whole lot of gossip? Unless either of you are straight. Wait, scratch that. Freudtober, you a straight boy?

[Private to January F.]

Hey pretty boy.

[Public]

Case anyone was wondering, the realtor didn't tell me to go expecting fireworks every night either. Reckon things are done blowing up, or we got more to look forward to?

Magdalena, can we have a date soon? I miss you. I don't know if you ended up going to the hotel during that weird... wintry thing, but if you did and it was anything like my experience, you need a drink too. And a hug. I offer my services for but a small fee.

So, about the scene in the forest...

Is it possible for a hangover to last 6 days? Because I'm pretty sure my head hasn't stopped pounding since the ball dropped. Serves me right for trying to keep up with actual grown-ups (as opposed to the 'supposed' kind, the group in which I belong). Also for those of you wondering, having a six something foot tall wolf/man in your head does absolutely nothing for your tolerance on this side of the door.

The more you know [hand-drawn rainbow]

So, you miss my incessant babble, Vegas? Or did the general atmosphere of debauchery and mayhem keep you occupied while I was gone?