[ Diminished in stature next to his fellow gods though he is, the Pale King can hold the attention of others just as easily as them. Though like most things concerning his followers, it's simply a tool to be used. A light attracting the lost, the wayward, the easily held, onward and into the dark.
He can do so much more the more he has, after all. It intrigues him; how quickly they swarm, how eager they are to please and to worship and to look for guidance.
(Grimm is a strong contrast to what he's normally used to. Is that the reason he fascinates him so much? He doesn't know. He doesn't understand.
So little he understands, even after so much time. It's an ongoing puzzle that frustrates him. Usually, he has the measure of people after a few moments with them; knowing what will motivate them, knowing what drives them, what they hold most precious. Tools, gifts and bargains.
The Troupe Master remains frustratingly elusive. He seems to exist outside usual structure.)
Another irritable click, click noise. There's really only one area where the Pale King is so reluctant to talk about what might be bothering him. For someone like Grimm, who's perfectly at ease with poking and prodding to get an answer, it's remarkably easy to guess.
Much as he would like it to be otherwise.
(What would he even say?) The words come out...as close to unthinkingly as he gets, which is also rare. ]
You do. [ Another long pause. ] It is not my expertise.
[ The seal on the inside of the door flickers and fades and doesn't light again. He's done.
That's as close to an answer as Grimm is getting right at the moment, it seems. He pushes open the closet's doors (mercifully, they stay open, since the Pale King doesn't feel the need to bother with holding doors open himself) and steps out.
He's already heading to one of the workbenches, but his movements are a little unfocused, a little vague. Usually, he acts with more purpose. Right now, it's...
It's hard to focus. Why is it hard? He doesn't know. He's distracted, again. He hasn't forgotten what he was going to do, but it simply seems...lower priority?
So many questions. And for once, he can do little to answer them. ]
no subject
He can do so much more the more he has, after all. It intrigues him; how quickly they swarm, how eager they are to please and to worship and to look for guidance.
(Grimm is a strong contrast to what he's normally used to. Is that the reason he fascinates him so much? He doesn't know. He doesn't understand.
So little he understands, even after so much time. It's an ongoing puzzle that frustrates him. Usually, he has the measure of people after a few moments with them; knowing what will motivate them, knowing what drives them, what they hold most precious. Tools, gifts and bargains.
The Troupe Master remains frustratingly elusive. He seems to exist outside usual structure.)
Another irritable click, click noise. There's really only one area where the Pale King is so reluctant to talk about what might be bothering him. For someone like Grimm, who's perfectly at ease with poking and prodding to get an answer, it's remarkably easy to guess.
Much as he would like it to be otherwise.
(What would he even say?) The words come out...as close to unthinkingly as he gets, which is also rare. ]
You do. [ Another long pause. ] It is not my expertise.
[ The seal on the inside of the door flickers and fades and doesn't light again. He's done.
That's as close to an answer as Grimm is getting right at the moment, it seems. He pushes open the closet's doors (mercifully, they stay open, since the Pale King doesn't feel the need to bother with holding doors open himself) and steps out.
He's already heading to one of the workbenches, but his movements are a little unfocused, a little vague. Usually, he acts with more purpose. Right now, it's...
It's hard to focus. Why is it hard? He doesn't know. He's distracted, again. He hasn't forgotten what he was going to do, but it simply seems...lower priority?
So many questions. And for once, he can do little to answer them. ]