Luckily for Walter, Jack rarely had guests--many of the locals found him a little too strange. Which was well enough since now he had his Other Job to keep him traveling.
The walls of Skellington House were lined with portraits and the paneling was odd--dozens and dozens of trap doors filled this place like holes in a sponge when fall rolled around. Up and up and up he led Walter.
"Ah--I guess no one's told you. We're brought here suddenly and mysteriously and, well, most of us leave the very same way...but every once in a while, someone Comes Back. Sometimes they don't remember and sometimes they do. Sometimes they're from the future or the past. It can be jarring."
Jack was lucky the poison in his face kept him from being overly expressive. He still felt so guilty over forgetting his friends while he was home, even if it had only been a blur, an instant, everything was just...gone. And he knew in his heart that wherever all the friends he'd made over the years were...they were no longer thinking of him. Perhaps for the better. Still it felt strange to be forgotten.
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The walls of Skellington House were lined with portraits and the paneling was odd--dozens and dozens of trap doors filled this place like holes in a sponge when fall rolled around. Up and up and up he led Walter.
"Ah--I guess no one's told you. We're brought here suddenly and mysteriously and, well, most of us leave the very same way...but every once in a while, someone Comes Back. Sometimes they don't remember and sometimes they do. Sometimes they're from the future or the past. It can be jarring."
Jack was lucky the poison in his face kept him from being overly expressive. He still felt so guilty over forgetting his friends while he was home, even if it had only been a blur, an instant, everything was just...gone. And he knew in his heart that wherever all the friends he'd made over the years were...they were no longer thinking of him. Perhaps for the better. Still it felt strange to be forgotten.
That was how legends die after all.