[It is a reassurance to hear about the assortment of his memories made available to Emet-Selch in his absence, in fact. This relief is clear on his expression, a softening of his excitement into something pleased. Emet-Selch's attempt at instilling in him hope is effective, soothed by the prospect that maybe his mirror was merciful and dispensed only one less-wanted memory that night.
...It isn't to say that Emet-Selch wouldn't be the best person to receive them, however. But even considering that comes with a sort of self-consciousness, and it would unsettle him somewhat to imagine Emet-Selch standing before him again prior to having a body, where he couldn't be there to... uselessly gauge his reaction? Know exactly how he was seeing him and when? Mettaton's not sure what difference it makes, so it's ruled as illogical. ...He'd tolerate it, he decides. He'd have to surrender to that, given what he's already permitted the Ascian to have, which is the whole of him.
The comfort he feels has Mettaton reaching for Emet-Selch's hand, especially as he remarks upon the differences between his forms. That, too, gets Mettaton to light up. ...Not the kind of lighting he does when his face is a monitor with light-up squares. Rather, the kind where he smiles wide enough for it to reach his eye.
But reaching for his hand also just felt situationally appropriate, to Mettaton, who is very in tune with how romantic this feels. He just feels romantic toward his Bonded in general, however.]
There shall. We had to be a bit more secretive about it than we'd like... For obvious reasons. Not anymore! [With his free hand, he touches his own cheek as his gaze softens again.] I'm glad you're attuned to the wonders my new body yields me, anyway. I waited too long for this manner of expressiveness for it to go unappreciated. I think I can better connect with my audience in this way... But I also feel better than ever, like this.
[It's a nuance that he felt only mattered to him. It's precisely what draws him to the human form, after all.
... He chooses deliberately to avoid thinking about the insinuated future of the Underground Papyrus told him about, where he came from. Based on his second-hand account, he feels his popularity suffered among monsters for trying to exhibit this favored form. Mettaton wonders what he would've done. What he did do, in Papyrus's suggestion of events...
Mirrors. Mettaton pulls that finger from his cheek and opens his mouth, closes it, then fixes his gaze on Emet-Selch again.]
I saw more of yours, too, by the way. Memories. [A glance away. Then, back at Emet-Selch.] You have a grandson?! ...Who shot you. I don't know why this surprises me as much as it does. But. Wow. Talk about dramatic... And it was quite terrifying to behold. Even though I knew you weren't dead... if you stand before me today.
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...It isn't to say that Emet-Selch wouldn't be the best person to receive them, however. But even considering that comes with a sort of self-consciousness, and it would unsettle him somewhat to imagine Emet-Selch standing before him again prior to having a body, where he couldn't be there to... uselessly gauge his reaction? Know exactly how he was seeing him and when? Mettaton's not sure what difference it makes, so it's ruled as illogical. ...He'd tolerate it, he decides. He'd have to surrender to that, given what he's already permitted the Ascian to have, which is the whole of him.
The comfort he feels has Mettaton reaching for Emet-Selch's hand, especially as he remarks upon the differences between his forms. That, too, gets Mettaton to light up. ...Not the kind of lighting he does when his face is a monitor with light-up squares. Rather, the kind where he smiles wide enough for it to reach his eye.
But reaching for his hand also just felt situationally appropriate, to Mettaton, who is very in tune with how romantic this feels. He just feels romantic toward his Bonded in general, however.]
There shall. We had to be a bit more secretive about it than we'd like... For obvious reasons. Not anymore! [With his free hand, he touches his own cheek as his gaze softens again.] I'm glad you're attuned to the wonders my new body yields me, anyway. I waited too long for this manner of expressiveness for it to go unappreciated. I think I can better connect with my audience in this way... But I also feel better than ever, like this.
[It's a nuance that he felt only mattered to him. It's precisely what draws him to the human form, after all.
... He chooses deliberately to avoid thinking about the insinuated future of the Underground Papyrus told him about, where he came from. Based on his second-hand account, he feels his popularity suffered among monsters for trying to exhibit this favored form. Mettaton wonders what he would've done. What he did do, in Papyrus's suggestion of events...
Mirrors. Mettaton pulls that finger from his cheek and opens his mouth, closes it, then fixes his gaze on Emet-Selch again.]
I saw more of yours, too, by the way. Memories. [A glance away. Then, back at Emet-Selch.] You have a grandson?! ...Who shot you. I don't know why this surprises me as much as it does. But. Wow. Talk about dramatic... And it was quite terrifying to behold. Even though I knew you weren't dead... if you stand before me today.