[On a whim, he licks slowly across the patch of neck that he could reach without needing to move his head. He follows it with a small sigh, letting lips rest against slightly-dampened metal.]
...well. I shall only hope that it will be an intriguing end. I'd hate to go to all this trouble only to expire in some mundane fashion.
[He'd hate to meet an end at all, but he doesn't say that; it was better to treat this as the light nonsense that it was. Emet-Selch still didn't know what dying in this world would entail for him. Was he fully mortal now? If so, what grand obscenity to perform to an entity such as himself.
That he could maintain to this degree a sense of unironic superiority was a testament to the effort of eons. Even if it had been damaged somewhat by the recent ministrations of harsh, uncaring reality- it was one of the only things he had holding himself together. If his confidence ever truly cracked- well. It wouldn't be a very good time for him or anyone in his vicinity. In any case, his arrogance meant his consideration for others was haphazard at best. Though he had a sense of fairness to some things, in others... he was quite selfish.
He can't press into the touch to his back without leaning away from Mettaton's front, so he doesn't, but the murmur, soft and low in his throat, is a pleased one. And he can't help the faint shiver at the near-ticklish sensation of a finger trailing unpredictably across skin, even when its soothed by the full press of his hand.]
...considering our natures. [Emet-Selch adds, after a moment, as he's reminded of the absurdity of how many Bonds he has, and yet Mettaton possessed only the one.] I'm surprised you don't have a veritable stable of Bonds to your name.
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...well. I shall only hope that it will be an intriguing end. I'd hate to go to all this trouble only to expire in some mundane fashion.
[He'd hate to meet an end at all, but he doesn't say that; it was better to treat this as the light nonsense that it was. Emet-Selch still didn't know what dying in this world would entail for him. Was he fully mortal now? If so, what grand obscenity to perform to an entity such as himself.
That he could maintain to this degree a sense of unironic superiority was a testament to the effort of eons. Even if it had been damaged somewhat by the recent ministrations of harsh, uncaring reality- it was one of the only things he had holding himself together. If his confidence ever truly cracked- well. It wouldn't be a very good time for him or anyone in his vicinity. In any case, his arrogance meant his consideration for others was haphazard at best. Though he had a sense of fairness to some things, in others... he was quite selfish.
He can't press into the touch to his back without leaning away from Mettaton's front, so he doesn't, but the murmur, soft and low in his throat, is a pleased one. And he can't help the faint shiver at the near-ticklish sensation of a finger trailing unpredictably across skin, even when its soothed by the full press of his hand.]
...considering our natures. [Emet-Selch adds, after a moment, as he's reminded of the absurdity of how many Bonds he has, and yet Mettaton possessed only the one.] I'm surprised you don't have a veritable stable of Bonds to your name.