[Making an amused sound at the- did it even qualify as a protest? a warning?- the Ascian nips lightly along the other man's jawline. How metallic. Mettaton's responsiveness remained appealing, and he couldn't deny feeling a degree more alert in response. There was a lot to pay attention to, between contact and conversation.
When he'd formed his other Bonds, Emet-Selch had asked them the why of it beforehand. Had wanted to satisfy any suggestion that it had involved anything like pity or desperation. Their reasons had been acceptable, so he agreed.
It was a bit backwards to hear Mettaton's explanation- both for why the Ascian had felt an appropriate choice, as well as why he'd avoided Bonding so deliberately- long after the fact, but even that felt natural somehow. Nothing else about their combination was conventional; why not go from torture, to the tying of souls together- and only then get into the tragic backstories and explanations for why?
But comfort in the familiar is something Emet-Selch could entirely understand. To find an echo of a similar dynamic in some foreign place....]
Hm... so you're used to attracting the despairing and dissatisfied? You do seem accustomed to dealing with us.
[And even though he'd had little say in choosing this Bond to start, the Ascian can also understand not wanting personal details to come out because of some sort of tether. Though he'd yet to experience it for himself even with his older Bonds, he'd heard that beyond the sharing of emotions, there was the sharing of memories. So Emet-Selch was a bit relieved to have found Mettaton to be more congenial for long-term associations than first impressions had provided. He would've despised someone learning of Amaurot or his name without having a choice in the matter.
So while he still didn't understand why Mettaton was so reticent about being a ghost, he could understand that it was something he wanted to hide. That it was a private detail, not information anyone deserved access to. Shifting a hand, the Ascian's fingers rub slowly at the back of the puca's neck as he considers this. To have guessed at something so personal... Mettaton hadn't seemed offended or upset when he'd figured it out. Was it because he was something of a ghost himself?]
Still, I suppose we balance one another to a degree... [A low sigh, warm against his neck.] You'll soon have me convinced this was a good idea.
no subject
When he'd formed his other Bonds, Emet-Selch had asked them the why of it beforehand. Had wanted to satisfy any suggestion that it had involved anything like pity or desperation. Their reasons had been acceptable, so he agreed.
It was a bit backwards to hear Mettaton's explanation- both for why the Ascian had felt an appropriate choice, as well as why he'd avoided Bonding so deliberately- long after the fact, but even that felt natural somehow. Nothing else about their combination was conventional; why not go from torture, to the tying of souls together- and only then get into the tragic backstories and explanations for why?
But comfort in the familiar is something Emet-Selch could entirely understand. To find an echo of a similar dynamic in some foreign place....]
Hm... so you're used to attracting the despairing and dissatisfied? You do seem accustomed to dealing with us.
[And even though he'd had little say in choosing this Bond to start, the Ascian can also understand not wanting personal details to come out because of some sort of tether. Though he'd yet to experience it for himself even with his older Bonds, he'd heard that beyond the sharing of emotions, there was the sharing of memories. So Emet-Selch was a bit relieved to have found Mettaton to be more congenial for long-term associations than first impressions had provided. He would've despised someone learning of Amaurot or his name without having a choice in the matter.
So while he still didn't understand why Mettaton was so reticent about being a ghost, he could understand that it was something he wanted to hide. That it was a private detail, not information anyone deserved access to. Shifting a hand, the Ascian's fingers rub slowly at the back of the puca's neck as he considers this. To have guessed at something so personal... Mettaton hadn't seemed offended or upset when he'd figured it out. Was it because he was something of a ghost himself?]
Still, I suppose we balance one another to a degree... [A low sigh, warm against his neck.] You'll soon have me convinced this was a good idea.