[the incredulous outburst comes moments after the fey speaker's announcement. up until then, the changeling has been a ball of extreme anxiety coiled into a hunched-forward, tensed slouch. like a cornered animal, Knife's wide, white eyes darted about unblinking, immediately snatching and concealing cutlery within their closed-up posture (more knives for Knife! ...and also a salad fork.).
it's very hard to keep their eyes off the spread of food. fuck, man...
...they quickly pop a strawberry tart into their mouth while keeping their focus on a swivel, watching for threats.
and then the announcement. and the outburst.
now they're a completely different animal: they uncoil out of fight-mode and throw the fork down onto the table in disgust.]
Horseshit! First witch-gods, then blabbermouth dragons, now fucking this?! Gimme a fucking break, goddamn!
dance chance (perchance).
Touch me and lose a finger.
[it's growled to the latest fae partygoer daring to try and lay hands on Knife to entreat a dance. look, just because their foot was tapping it does not mean there's an open invitation to get all handsy.
grumbled at their departure:] Rude-ass nosy-ass sparkly-ass motherfucking busybodies. Oooh, you ate the food, now you're stuck here, heehee! [they spit on the floor.] Doesn't mean my body's free real estate to yank around!
[speaking on pitch and in some semblance of rhythm with the music is coincidental, thanks.]
flower power (sour).
Holy fuck FINE, shut up! I'm doing it! Goddamn!
[these faeries are fucking relentless about their goddamn flowers. utterly exasperated, Knife snatches one of the offerings - a rose.
they wag it emphatically:] Happy now? I hope you're super fucking happy! Now buzz off!
[they are not happy. Knife, you're supposed to wear it!! the fae's efforts to explain are met with the rude finger. gosh. so rude. Knife clearly has no party manners.]
knife 🗡️ an oc 🗡️
dance chance (perchance).
flower power (sour).