It's NOT conscience, merely ...curiosity.
((Wonderland verse, after this: Inspired by demon_shawn 's Fics and RP's. And I hope you don't mind! Other muses are referred to with much ooc respect))
((ETA - Link now fixed))
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The otherworld man is still being watched by the Knave of Hearts, who stands, hiding in the crowds of Laughlins, Egg-people, Whos, Musilans, and all the glorious shapes and sizes of Wonderland folk, drifting from casino to casino.
Paradiesvogel closes his eyes briefly, as Shawn Spencer disappears back into the grand doors of the Forbidden District Casino. He can recall what the Royamune des Diamantes, and the rest of Wonderland was like before. Thronging with people, it sparkled, it shone, it positively glowed with colour and light. It still does, superficially, but it's exactly that. It all feels so fake now. Jaded and tarnished.
It's more like tacky bottled glitter than the sparkling of pure diamond. And more reminiscent of a cheap magician's tricks, than the real enchantment in which Wonderland was steeped.
There really is. No. Good. Reason. For the erstwhile tart-thief to take up with the crazy man in the blue dress. The Hatter, (Whom he rather dislikes) And the White rabbit (Whom he detests immensely) They'll all get themselves horribly killed. Even with the White Rabbit's legendary accomplishments under his belt. They'll die, they'll die, they'll die. And I'm not going to die with them.
Legendary. Paradiesvogel takes out the fragment of the Queen of Hearts seal from his shirt, it still shines on its gold chain, and he'll bet his body parts any time rather than risk losing this. Stupid stranger. Stupid, stupid man and his stupid, feeble little group of white knights. It's not even his world, why should he care when many of the natives have lost hope?
"When I was a little kid, my mom read me the 'legend' of this place and this whole place just isn't the Wonderland I came to last time. I can pitch in as best as I can." The knave can't say why exactly, but he likes Shawn Spencer.
Legends. They're not made by hiding in the shadows until the hunters come for one's blood.
The Knave of Hearts curses softly, tucks the seal away again, and, hanging back unseen, follows Spencer into the casino.
((ETA - Link now fixed))
_____________________________________________
The otherworld man is still being watched by the Knave of Hearts, who stands, hiding in the crowds of Laughlins, Egg-people, Whos, Musilans, and all the glorious shapes and sizes of Wonderland folk, drifting from casino to casino.
Paradiesvogel closes his eyes briefly, as Shawn Spencer disappears back into the grand doors of the Forbidden District Casino. He can recall what the Royamune des Diamantes, and the rest of Wonderland was like before. Thronging with people, it sparkled, it shone, it positively glowed with colour and light. It still does, superficially, but it's exactly that. It all feels so fake now. Jaded and tarnished.
It's more like tacky bottled glitter than the sparkling of pure diamond. And more reminiscent of a cheap magician's tricks, than the real enchantment in which Wonderland was steeped.
There really is. No. Good. Reason. For the erstwhile tart-thief to take up with the crazy man in the blue dress. The Hatter, (Whom he rather dislikes) And the White rabbit (Whom he detests immensely) They'll all get themselves horribly killed. Even with the White Rabbit's legendary accomplishments under his belt. They'll die, they'll die, they'll die. And I'm not going to die with them.
Legendary. Paradiesvogel takes out the fragment of the Queen of Hearts seal from his shirt, it still shines on its gold chain, and he'll bet his body parts any time rather than risk losing this. Stupid stranger. Stupid, stupid man and his stupid, feeble little group of white knights. It's not even his world, why should he care when many of the natives have lost hope?
"When I was a little kid, my mom read me the 'legend' of this place and this whole place just isn't the Wonderland I came to last time. I can pitch in as best as I can." The knave can't say why exactly, but he likes Shawn Spencer.
Legends. They're not made by hiding in the shadows until the hunters come for one's blood.
The Knave of Hearts curses softly, tucks the seal away again, and, hanging back unseen, follows Spencer into the casino.