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teapottsHe's not entirely sure why anyone would think to bring an Oyster to him and yet here he is, waiting for whatever resistance member has gotten roped into saddling him with a fugitive. He'd already heard through the grapevine how little they'd told their little human acquisition, how much they expect Hatter to do the legwork. Hide her, they said. Get her home, they said. Keep her from the Queen, they said. Any Oyster not held by royalty, not sucked dry of emotions, was one less of Wonderland's own feeding on stolen joys. One saved was one person more with a clear enough head to fight the royals.
Or something like that. Hatter had stopped listening to Dodo's spiel the moment he realized what work he had before him.
He sat on a lone chair in the middle of a crumbling house, abandoned when the family couldn't pay their debts to the tea shop. At the very least he'd managed to talk Dodo out of bringing the human to the shop. Maybe Hatter could get himself out of this mess long enough to live a few days more.
When the door opens- and he recognizes the man walking in enough to stay relaxed- Hatter doesn't jump up. He leans back in his chair, arms crossed and hat carefully knocked askew. He does not look directly to whom the man has brought. He wants to project a sense superiority, boredom. A distance from whatever comes waltzing trough the door.
"Is this it then? Show me the Oyster mark, we'll have to cover that first off. And what exactly have the resistance biddies been telling you?" Little, he'd suppose. Who knows what the human knows about why she was brought here? Would Dodo lower himself to tell an Oyster about the Queen's schemes? The systematic kidnapping of her kind to be used as a cattle? Dodo could barely lower himself to to talk to his own people, so Hatter had his doubts. "In any case, little Oyster-"
He spares her a glance, and then another. Little may be right. Hatter has only the loosest grasp on human ages, but she looks young. For a split second, even is weathered conscience feels pity. And then he's annoyed again. He didn't agree to be a double agent to play a babysitter. Hatter smooths the emotion from his face, easy when all the feeling came pre-package nowadays and he's kept carefully out of his stashes since the orders came down the line.
"Might as well tell me your name," he finishes, eye line at her shoulder. Without pause, he thumbs at the man and waves a hand dismissively. "You can go."
Or something like that. Hatter had stopped listening to Dodo's spiel the moment he realized what work he had before him.
He sat on a lone chair in the middle of a crumbling house, abandoned when the family couldn't pay their debts to the tea shop. At the very least he'd managed to talk Dodo out of bringing the human to the shop. Maybe Hatter could get himself out of this mess long enough to live a few days more.
When the door opens- and he recognizes the man walking in enough to stay relaxed- Hatter doesn't jump up. He leans back in his chair, arms crossed and hat carefully knocked askew. He does not look directly to whom the man has brought. He wants to project a sense superiority, boredom. A distance from whatever comes waltzing trough the door.
"Is this it then? Show me the Oyster mark, we'll have to cover that first off. And what exactly have the resistance biddies been telling you?" Little, he'd suppose. Who knows what the human knows about why she was brought here? Would Dodo lower himself to tell an Oyster about the Queen's schemes? The systematic kidnapping of her kind to be used as a cattle? Dodo could barely lower himself to to talk to his own people, so Hatter had his doubts. "In any case, little Oyster-"
He spares her a glance, and then another. Little may be right. Hatter has only the loosest grasp on human ages, but she looks young. For a split second, even is weathered conscience feels pity. And then he's annoyed again. He didn't agree to be a double agent to play a babysitter. Hatter smooths the emotion from his face, easy when all the feeling came pre-package nowadays and he's kept carefully out of his stashes since the orders came down the line.
"Might as well tell me your name," he finishes, eye line at her shoulder. Without pause, he thumbs at the man and waves a hand dismissively. "You can go."