[Emet-Selch can well accept that there was less satisfaction to be had in being praised for an inherent trait, compared to some deliberate, developed skill. Innate characteristics were good (and Emet-Selch certainly scorned those who lacked the ones he valued, i.e, those sundered peoples), but perhaps not a point of pride in itself.
That his words already encompassed more than the potential for godhood, the Ascian decides not to clarify. If Mettaton wanted to provide him with more reasons to appreciate him, Emet-Selch wasn't about to deny him the opportunity. So he only hums in reply, a mix of amusement and acknowledgement, nestling a degree further against his body, encouraged by that casual rubbing, even as he thinks on his answer.]
What's impossibility, indeed.... So, there's nothing preventing humanity from turning against you once more in future. I'd keep a spare god or two around, if I were you, against that inevitability.
[If all it took was seven (or possibly six?), souls for one divinity, they could surely create a whole bunch without anyone really noticing. There were plenty of mortals, insignificant and fragile; killing a few handfuls would hardly put a dent in their population.
Because in the Ascian's experience... that peace would come crashing down sooner rather than later. No matter how miraculous and perfect Mettaton made it sound.
Which only leads him back to one question, and Emet-Selch tilts his head back enough to regard Mettaton's face as he asks it.]
--Why do you care so much for humanity? They feared your people, trapped them in the dark- and there's nothing to assume they won't plunge you back there again. By your own admission you've had little contact with humanity before now- and you've since experienced the depths they will go to, in their ignorance and self-absorption. That potential for cruelty they all carry within them.
Why do you think they're worth anything at all?
[Okay he can't always restrain his feelings about mortals.]
no subject
That his words already encompassed more than the potential for godhood, the Ascian decides not to clarify. If Mettaton wanted to provide him with more reasons to appreciate him, Emet-Selch wasn't about to deny him the opportunity. So he only hums in reply, a mix of amusement and acknowledgement, nestling a degree further against his body, encouraged by that casual rubbing, even as he thinks on his answer.]
What's impossibility, indeed.... So, there's nothing preventing humanity from turning against you once more in future. I'd keep a spare god or two around, if I were you, against that inevitability.
[If all it took was seven (or possibly six?), souls for one divinity, they could surely create a whole bunch without anyone really noticing. There were plenty of mortals, insignificant and fragile; killing a few handfuls would hardly put a dent in their population.
Because in the Ascian's experience... that peace would come crashing down sooner rather than later. No matter how miraculous and perfect Mettaton made it sound.
Which only leads him back to one question, and Emet-Selch tilts his head back enough to regard Mettaton's face as he asks it.]
--Why do you care so much for humanity? They feared your people, trapped them in the dark- and there's nothing to assume they won't plunge you back there again. By your own admission you've had little contact with humanity before now- and you've since experienced the depths they will go to, in their ignorance and self-absorption. That potential for cruelty they all carry within them.
Why do you think they're worth anything at all?
[Okay he can't always restrain his feelings about mortals.]