[What was that? The clinking of old, rusted chains dragging along the ground?
The susurrus of rotted cloth brushing across cool tile?
The chill of the grave, creeping towards the faint warmth of a man yet living?!]
Yo ho ho...
[Brook appeared out of the mist, a fine china teacup in the fingers of one skeletal hand. He wore a fine dark purple suit and a neatly arranged cravat, because he was a classy skeleton.]
Why, good evening, sir. And what might you be doing on this fine night?
no subject
The susurrus of rotted cloth brushing across cool tile?
The chill of the grave, creeping towards the faint warmth of a man yet living?!]
Yo ho ho...
[Brook appeared out of the mist, a fine china teacup in the fingers of one skeletal hand. He wore a fine dark purple suit and a neatly arranged cravat, because he was a classy skeleton.]
Why, good evening, sir. And what might you be doing on this fine night?