Continued from here
Being ignored was among the list of things that Nocturne detested, but he couldn’t really become too inconsolable over it. He may have operated on a different level of morality and understanding, but it was obvious that the clown was only just beginning to grasp for the reigns of consciousness again– which was what had brought him there in the first place. He could practically taste it. Was it any surprise he took the first opportunity he could to pester him? He’d been doing it for so long now; hell, a large part of why the poor jester was in this situation in the first place was because of him.
Slowly, he made his approach; not out of any kind of fear that he might attack, but because at this moment in time at least, he wasn’t trying to startle him or bring him any kind of anxiety. At least not actively, it was to be expected from an entity such as Nocturne, as his default.
“Well, perhaps not looking it, but…you are conscious. Your mind was much more difficult to pry through when you were dead, I would appreciate it if you could refrain from pulling another stunt like this in the future. Look at the mess it’s created. You’re in a cave, Shaco.” He didn’t need to, but he gestured about them anyway– it was indeed a cave. Not the biggest cave in the world, but enough to squat in without much risk of getting wet from the rain or snow.
“And it’s not even a nice cave. If you like, I could redecorate it for you. Perhaps provide you with something a bit more comfortable to wear, at that. What is that atrocious garment?” Even if Shaco chose to continue ignoring him, he’d choose to continue talking. Nocturne was a gabby little specter.