55 Days till Halloween [4th WALL] [Action] Goldenrod

[quickattackjack]

[Another one of these, was it?]

[The old skeleton has been in Johto for four long years. This is nothing new. With all the madness around him, he's determined to have a nice day! Fleshless as ever, yet still dressed in easily identifiable clothes by those who know him, Jack sits at an outdoor Goldenrod cafe table and flips through his 'gear to see what there is to see.]

[His Murkorw, Edgar, perches on the back of the chair across from him and preens herself.]

Comments

[quickattackjack]

_{[The skeleton glances up from his social media scrolling and looks around.]}

I'm not sure I'd call it a situation exactly...it's more like very unusual rain. I'm just glad no part of me has gone missing this time. Do you need any help?

[lamortenoir]

Rain, you say?

[ A small frown. The bit about parts missing concerns him though. Last thing he wants is to wake up and find his arm has glitched itself all the way to the League. But have a further pause at that question. ]

Only in identifying who is responsible, if possible. I don't quite take kindly to being spirited away and having my personal effects taken from me.

[quickattackjack]

_{[Jack shrugs his bony shoulders.]}

I don't know anyone who likes it. Some of us have been here for years, but I assure you it isn't usually this... wild.

_{[He points to the colorful school bus sporting a face that soars overhead and disappears around a corner.]}

[lamortenoir]

[ !! ]

What in Death's name--

[ Momentary surprise over when the bus disappears though. ]

And... how long have you been here...?

[quickattackjack]

_{[The skeleton watches to make sure that bus is good and gone before turning his attention back to Death.]}

Four long Halloweens.

[lamortenoir]

[ 'Scuse him. He's still trying to get over the bus. ]

That is far longer than I feel one must spend incarcerated in a separate world.

[ A pause. ]

I apologize. In my distress, I had failed to ask for your name, sir.

[quickattackjack]

Don't worry about it!

_{[He offers his hand and stands up, finally tucking the 'gear into his pocket. Maybe it would be best to lead this man somewhere safe like a Pokemon Center until all this ruckus is over...]}

Jack Skellington.

[lamortenoir]

[ It's a bit odd shaking hands with a skeleton, really. ]

William T. Spears of London's Grim Reaper Dispatch Department. A pleasure. I haven't been here quite as long as you have, I'm afraid.

[quickattackjack]

_{[Jack lets out a whistle. Some how.]}

That's quite a title, sir, I am impressed! I have such good memories of London! I'll be honest, I miss Earth something dreadful. Why don't we get out of this weather? There's a Center not a block from here.

[lamortenoir]

A title that comes with its fair share of responsibility. I can only imagine how my subordinates are carrying on without me.

[ The Center is sounding like a good idea right now, actually. ]

I would wager Aristotle has had quite enough of this appearing and disappearing against our will. If you would be so kind, Mister Skellington.

[quickattackjack]

_{[Jack wastes no time in leading Death to the bright and (slightly more) safe confines of the Pokemon Center. It's bustling with people and pokemon alike all lined against the windows to watch the madness outside.]}

If you want my advice, Mr. Spears, you'll stay in here for the rest of the day. The coffee they have isn't fantastic, but it won't kill you.

[lamortenoir]

[ It seems to be the logical thing to do at the moment so he'll comply. ]

I suppose it would all depend on whether or not whatever is in charge of this entire fracas will allow us a moment's peace.

At any rate... [ A small bow from the waist. The pidove that settles on William's shoulder does the same. ]

Aristotle and I thank you for your assistance, sir.