It was a few minutes shy of supper time, and the streets were emptying as the town's inhabitants filed back toward their homes, many of them carrying food fresh from the market. Of course, supper probably wasn't the only reason most people wanted off the streets; it would be nightfall soon, and Zantaric had a rather dubious reputation when it came to the 'safety' it provided certain demographics. Not that Mister Black was terribly concerned about that sort of thing, which was why he didn't particularly mind showing up so close to nightfall.
A dark portal popped into existance in the middle of the road, inky black smoke seeping out and spreading a few feet in every direction as Black stepped through. He was dressed in his usual outfit: a black gentleman's pea coat, black long sleeved shirt, black slacks, black leather dress shoes, and of course, his black top hat. He planted the black laquered walking stick firmly on the ground at his feet after he'd stepped clear of the portal, resting his hands on the silver pommel as his traveling companion exited after him. For those individuals who didn't brand Black's arrival as all that out of the ordinary, they certainly classified his 'companion' in a different category altogether. It was an oak endtable with a black and silver phonograph attached to it, and the images on the sides of the phonograph were a mosaic of human suffering and chaos...a leftover from Black's 'circus' days. And while he was certainly a good deal less psychotic, that didn't mean he was going to get rid of Mortimer, who emerged from his home soon after the table had walked, yes walked its way out of the portal.
A few bats fluttered out of the horn of the phonograph before two skeletal arms (literally) reached out from the opening, bony hands grasping the rim of the horn, and Mortimer the skeleton pulled himself out of the phonograph. Well, his upper body anyway. He never fully left his home. Somehow he emerged with a black porkpie hat resting comfortably atop his skull, and he pulled a pair of reading glasses and a tattered looking journal out from the phonograph next, placing the glasses on his head (how they stayed there was a mystery, and why he needed them was another) and thumbing through the pages while mumbling something under his breath. Black meanwhile, turned and caused the portal to vanish as quickly as it had appeared with little more than a mumbled incantation.
"Well, we're in Zantaric alright. Don't get what you see in the place, but hey, you're the one with the bigger hat," Mortimer said, the skeleton's voice sounding strained and low pitched, like it took a concerted effort to speak. Which it probably did, since his vocal chords had never existed in the first place. "So what now? Not like you run the circus anymore..."
