[That hadn't been the response he'd expected- both in word or in tone- and he hums quietly at the various emotions he couldn't help but feel, as close and as open as they were. This time it's curiosity that mixes with the concern; it was unusual for Mettaton to feel so unsettled. Bringing up his life and status as a ghost tended to make him uncomfortable, for some reason, though. The Ascian wasn't sure if it was worse this time, or whether he was just more attuned to his mood.
Emet-Selch still didn't see why. The problem had been incorporeality, surely. A practical issue, more than anything else. Was it just a matter of looking back on an unhappier time?]
You've asked whether I've modified this host to my choosing... but what of you?
[His soul shifts continuously around him, though not restless or agitated this time. It's more of a slow stroking, protective as it envelopes, as though trying to shut out the outside world entirely. His voice is the same, quiet and even, even though it wasn't as though they were in any threat of being overheard.]
How much do you share with your current appearances? What were you like, before your various forms were designed?
[The downside of gaining the Ascian's investment, is that he asks questions like these. Especially since it's actual interest, rather than idle curiosity. And while he wonders at the discomfiture, it's not enough to dissuade him.
Though he does continue to lean his head firmly against Mettaton's, unconsciously rubbing a little more against it. Emet-Selch didn't have too many reassuring instincts left to him, but what insufficient remnants remained were trying.
He's more than fine with not dragging up more memories of their torture; it was something he avoided considering anyway, with limited success. No, its effects manifested in other ways. It probably always would.]
no subject
Emet-Selch still didn't see why. The problem had been incorporeality, surely. A practical issue, more than anything else. Was it just a matter of looking back on an unhappier time?]
You've asked whether I've modified this host to my choosing... but what of you?
[His soul shifts continuously around him, though not restless or agitated this time. It's more of a slow stroking, protective as it envelopes, as though trying to shut out the outside world entirely. His voice is the same, quiet and even, even though it wasn't as though they were in any threat of being overheard.]
How much do you share with your current appearances? What were you like, before your various forms were designed?
[The downside of gaining the Ascian's investment, is that he asks questions like these. Especially since it's actual interest, rather than idle curiosity. And while he wonders at the discomfiture, it's not enough to dissuade him.
Though he does continue to lean his head firmly against Mettaton's, unconsciously rubbing a little more against it. Emet-Selch didn't have too many reassuring instincts left to him, but what insufficient remnants remained were trying.
He's more than fine with not dragging up more memories of their torture; it was something he avoided considering anyway, with limited success. No, its effects manifested in other ways. It probably always would.]