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Entry tags:
jack skellington - nightmare before christmas - bar
When the door opens next, it does so - letting in a crisp mid-autumn wind. Bits of leaves and dirt accompany a rather thin-looking bone man dressed in a striped suit of sorts, curled up within himself.
He had been falling - practically rolling - through blank, dark, neverending space from one door through the next.
Finally he lands, limbs sprawling across the floor like a spider laid flat. Eyes (or, more accurately, eye sockets) closed, the skeletal man takes a moment to catch his metaphorical breath (no lungs, no breath).
[ooc: testing him out!]
He had been falling - practically rolling - through blank, dark, neverending space from one door through the next.
Finally he lands, limbs sprawling across the floor like a spider laid flat. Eyes (or, more accurately, eye sockets) closed, the skeletal man takes a moment to catch his metaphorical breath (no lungs, no breath).
[ooc: testing him out!]