[It's the sort of retort that has Mettaton that much more craving of Emet-Selch's skin: the heat of his blood washing his tongue, the warmth of his vitality in his throat, the give of his body flush to his own. A demand to overtake and temper him, to show him how very present they'd both be for the event. The kind of wanting that he glares at his device for. Were anybody watching him closely, he would be a roller-coaster ride of emotional twists and loops in expression, and he grinds his teeth for lack of anywhere to sink them. Emet-Selch misses his point, and he doesn't think he feels threatened enough.
It reminds him a little of how the Ascian would tell him not to get accustomed to the look of surprise on him when in reality, Mettaton relishes it all the more for how frequently he can pull it from him. And so he dedicates himself to surprising him and keeping his attention, something he glares harder at his device for until he levels his gaze with the nightlife unfolding before him. Why is he here... and not where his Bonded is?
He rises to his feet in that moment, incensed and alert and excited, before he gets the next reply.
It softens him in turn. The acknowledgement that the ghost he left behind cares for him so is a bittersweet note, and it feels like too long ago since he's seen them. He saw Napstablook in a memory, but he also saw them right before he showed up here... Those are points to hang onto. He wonders if he'd see them here. If he could introduce Emet-Selch to them — after, of course, awkwardly coming clean once and for all.
And how awkward it would be. Mettaton feels less uncertain about it right now, compared to some months ago. He can't begin to figure out why, not in this moment, especially when his focus is shifted back to the Ascian's sentiments. Mettaton so quickly shifts from ravenous and passionate to tender and infatuated when it comes to Emet-Selch. For his Bonded to have such dramatic sway over his emotions... He feels he met someone very special in him.]
I'm not concerned about you matching anything, darling. So don't worry about that. I have faith in you for what you have a mind for.
[Mettaton has no expectations, but a bar of standard. He's neither easy nor difficult to impress, but affected nonetheless. Emet-Selch's wondering about comparing to his cousin in itself is endearing.]
How about you? Did you commonly celebrate your real birthday? As opposed to my mercurial one.
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It reminds him a little of how the Ascian would tell him not to get accustomed to the look of surprise on him when in reality, Mettaton relishes it all the more for how frequently he can pull it from him. And so he dedicates himself to surprising him and keeping his attention, something he glares harder at his device for until he levels his gaze with the nightlife unfolding before him. Why is he here... and not where his Bonded is?
He rises to his feet in that moment, incensed and alert and excited, before he gets the next reply.
It softens him in turn. The acknowledgement that the ghost he left behind cares for him so is a bittersweet note, and it feels like too long ago since he's seen them. He saw Napstablook in a memory, but he also saw them right before he showed up here... Those are points to hang onto. He wonders if he'd see them here. If he could introduce Emet-Selch to them — after, of course, awkwardly coming clean once and for all.
And how awkward it would be. Mettaton feels less uncertain about it right now, compared to some months ago. He can't begin to figure out why, not in this moment, especially when his focus is shifted back to the Ascian's sentiments. Mettaton so quickly shifts from ravenous and passionate to tender and infatuated when it comes to Emet-Selch. For his Bonded to have such dramatic sway over his emotions... He feels he met someone very special in him.]
I'm not concerned about you matching anything, darling. So don't worry about that. I have faith in you for what you have a mind for.
[Mettaton has no expectations, but a bar of standard. He's neither easy nor difficult to impress, but affected nonetheless. Emet-Selch's wondering about comparing to his cousin in itself is endearing.]
How about you? Did you commonly celebrate your real birthday? As opposed to my mercurial one.