"So that's what they do. How quaint!" Grusa coos at Donnie's escape attempts, the ropes magically changing to fit the shape. Though, they needn't do that, given there is no way for Donnie to escape; cutting the rope feels like he's cutting into steel, yet worse: It's like he's trying to saw his own arms off, even though he isn't.
It would seem that Grusa has had a long, long time to consider how to deal with the thieves.
"Yet he was with you. Donnie, no? Or... Donatello. And... Rock." The way Grusa says the names touches their soul. Maya is polite enough to avoid using the fae's power over names against anyone - she actively goes out of her way-, but Grusa is not.
The fae's magic is electric. Ominously so. This is not a young adult fae, bound as she is to Cayde, but an adult fae who's decided Donnie and Rock are play things and Grusa pivots to Rock.
"Right? Wrong? Oh darling child mine, you stole from me after sneaking into the fairy-fort, past the guards so low and stupid. That is wrong, oh darling mine, but I do like games of weal and of woe."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2025-06-20 03:47 pm (UTC)It would seem that Grusa has had a long, long time to consider how to deal with the thieves.
"Yet he was with you. Donnie, no? Or... Donatello. And... Rock." The way Grusa says the names touches their soul. Maya is polite enough to avoid using the fae's power over names against anyone - she actively goes out of her way-, but Grusa is not.
The fae's magic is electric. Ominously so. This is not a young adult fae, bound as she is to Cayde, but an adult fae who's decided Donnie and Rock are play things and Grusa pivots to Rock.
"Right? Wrong? Oh darling child mine, you stole from me after sneaking into the fairy-fort, past the guards so low and stupid. That is wrong, oh darling mine, but I do like games of weal and of woe."