the marvel and surprise on his face disappeared as soon as the Hatter mentioned a battle, an attempt to kill each other, and in the blink of an eye his eyes were filled with seriousness and coldness, the fingers of his left hand turning into dark claws and he rose that arm so that he could attack the other before he had the time to prepare a counterattack. If he had still had voices talking endlessly inside his head, they would have told him that he had done a mistake, that no one was to be trusted in this place not less mad than his interlocutor: yet nothing of this happened, for that endless choir had left him a long time before to pass into someone else’s soul; and he would have been part of it as well if he had not fallen into the Abyss, as if he was little, naive Alice and had ended up inside the rabbit hole. Which, though, was less pleasant and fuller of MONSTERS. No, his head was a home for his own thoughts only, and some would find laughable his loss of memory, for it would not make him enjoy the peace and silence he had been craving for so many years.
Before he could make a greater mistake and spring forward towards the Hatter, his ‘enemy’ assured him that he did not have any bad intentions against him; and even if such words did not wipe that trace of suspicion in the King’s eyes, they were enough to make him lower his arm again, claws disappearing as quickly as they had appeared. Wary he still was, though; and his defenses would not be let down a single inch until he had understood more about that MYSTERY and those spirals of words that came out the Hatter’s mouth.
"If you wished to be his friend, why did you try to kill him?” It was true that having ‘friends’ in Abyss was rare, if not impossible, but even if he knew so little about friendly interactions he was quite sure they did not include violent actions such as hurting or trying to KILL ( theirs could not be called properly ‘friendly’, or so he thought. They were merely chatting for the time being, but he could not guarantee that they would protect each other if something was to happen ). Inside that river of words which was flowing around him there was much more hiding beneath the surface, meanings he could not quite catch like water beings he could not capture with his bare hands; and he hated it. Besides, it looked as if the white-haired Chain was taking pleasure in seeing him struggle to understand, and it only annoyed him further.
"You aren’t.” He was talking much, that was true, but everything he said was useful to fulfill the King’s curiosity. If anything, he was not saying ENOUGH: if there was a point, a central piece of information the Black-Winged Chain was not aware of yet, the other was avoiding it for the time being, his words running and spinning around but never getting to it. “I’m interested in everything you’re saying.” And it was true. The good thing was that they had all the ‘time’ they wanted to talk, for nothing would come to disturb and interrupt them, unless another Chain came and decided the two of them would be its preys for that day. Yet, Black King did not doubt they could get rid of it easily if such an event was to occur.
Even as his red eye flicked to the sharp shadow that seemed to amass at the King’s hand, not a trace of fear entered the Hatter’s expression ( perhaps a modicum of interest, but certainly nothing like fear ). His absolute and foolhardy confidence had not faded even in the face of death and rebirth---perhaps it had even begun to burn more brightly, consuming any concern for his well-being that might have dared to bloom in his final days. Whether it be sensible or not, he still registered the so-called monarch as little other than naive; should he choose to play at attacking the foolhardy Chain before him, perhaps Black King would learn an unfortunate lesson indeed.
He gave a light chuckle, seeming pleased enough with that response; so he was free to continue spinning his yarn until he tripped over himself, was that it? No matter; the Hatter gave a flippant turn of his wrist as he cast the former Glen a bemused stare. “Well, he did try to kill me first,” he offered as if that was the most obvious information available, “But, my, human relations are te~rribly complicated. I would hardly know where to begin explaining...” Perhaps with his incredibly unusual and undeniably loose usage of the word “friend”? No, that much he would leave aside; he’d rather let the other interpret it, just as Xerxes had with the Baskervilles in the past.
“He was awfully interesting,” he hummed, once again settling for a tangential answer, “It was hard to be sure of his intentions, but since he was so wrapped up in the affairs of this Abyss, I suppose I couldn’t help but wish to meddle.” The playfulness of his tone ( which, ironically might have very well matched such words ) seemed to drain away for a moment at the end of Mad Hatter’s phrase; if he called himself “meddlesome”, he said it only with the confident implication that he was in some position to truly cause trouble, like he held some power here ( but really, wasn’t he just an interloper in a matter he didn’t understand? ). “Though in that case, perhaps it is inevitable that curiosity would kill the proverbial cat, even if satisfaction might have brought it back.” Ah, enough of such seriousness; his careless mannerisms returned with a start and a sudden flourish of his hands, met with a broad grin at the young monarch.
“Well, unfortunately, we had our disagreements -- we couldn’t be friends, so we had to fight. I suppose that’s the next best thing, in a way~ Fighting can tell you quite a deal about your opponent, after all!” His eye flicked over the black-winged Chain thoughtfully; yes, surely he was every bit as foolishly determined as ever, even now, chasing after an answer that fully seemed to elude him. What did he hope to gain? Were his memories anywhere within the shell of his soul, or were they merely dust in the air of this place by now? Would Mad Hatter care either way? ( Somehow, he thought he might, even if he himself seemed nothing to gain but perhaps a moment’s entertainment from pestering this child. )
