[It would've been pretty insulting, to be fair, even if it had been unintentional. Had the situation been reversed, he would've been nearly as annoyed, regardless of rationality. There were expectations.
Emet-Selch, though, feels no particular conflict in having been claimed by Zodiark, yet also desirous of Mettaton's own stake on him. Zodiark was perfect and eternal, and wanting to undo that tie was unthinkable- but he cared (what a terrible word) for Mettaton as well, and what was the point of caring for something if you couldn't keep it? Or be kept by it? So long as he didn't think about it too closely, there was no conflict. He still nestles that bit harder against him before relaxing, appreciating the tighter grip, even the affectionate rubbing.
That he was being scent-marked as well would strike him as odd, but not that much different from having his neck marked up by Mettaton's lips. More of a subtle claim, at that.]
A good thing tempering isn't catching... or else you would be long lost, by now.
[It's not contagious. He'd have to drag him before Zodiark for that, not that he would.]
But yours... 'tis smaller than expected. [Or Amaurotines had unusually large souls, skewing his perspective.] I wondered if I might crush it through mere proximity.
[Rather than inspiring a more reasonable disgust, Emet-Selch just feels protective of Mettaton instead, his own soul tightening its hold on him. It was his, to break or preserve; an unusual feeling.]
But yes- it does feel wholly 'you', at the same time. Open and direct, and honest of emotion. [It was no wonder he could remain in the present so easily.] ...I'd thought that sealing your soul into an object to be a reckless pursuit, but if you're from a place where they are ever available to be reached, I suppose it actually affords you a measure of protection.
no subject
Emet-Selch, though, feels no particular conflict in having been claimed by Zodiark, yet also desirous of Mettaton's own stake on him. Zodiark was perfect and eternal, and wanting to undo that tie was unthinkable- but he cared (what a terrible word) for Mettaton as well, and what was the point of caring for something if you couldn't keep it? Or be kept by it? So long as he didn't think about it too closely, there was no conflict. He still nestles that bit harder against him before relaxing, appreciating the tighter grip, even the affectionate rubbing.
That he was being scent-marked as well would strike him as odd, but not that much different from having his neck marked up by Mettaton's lips. More of a subtle claim, at that.]
A good thing tempering isn't catching... or else you would be long lost, by now.
[It's not contagious. He'd have to drag him before Zodiark for that, not that he would.]
But yours... 'tis smaller than expected. [Or Amaurotines had unusually large souls, skewing his perspective.] I wondered if I might crush it through mere proximity.
[Rather than inspiring a more reasonable disgust, Emet-Selch just feels protective of Mettaton instead, his own soul tightening its hold on him. It was his, to break or preserve; an unusual feeling.]
But yes- it does feel wholly 'you', at the same time. Open and direct, and honest of emotion. [It was no wonder he could remain in the present so easily.] ...I'd thought that sealing your soul into an object to be a reckless pursuit, but if you're from a place where they are ever available to be reached, I suppose it actually affords you a measure of protection.