Only most? I'm sure he'll be alarmed he's missed someone somewhere. But that is, indeed, my fear, that they will all one day converge....
[But he'll just wait downstairs with the door unlocked, sprawled out over the full length of a couch, boredly poking through his watch in the meantime.]
Edited (as i just rewrite half of it ) 2020-09-12 17:21 (UTC)
[And soon enough he'll hear a knock on the door as Tataru waits patiently outside. What she's got in her hands is a wrapped up box with a bit of twine keeping it closed, tied in a neat little bow. It's quite large, especially considering the size of her as she peaks over the edge of it.]
[And Emet-Selch will drag his lazy legs to the ground and even open the door. Staring down at Tataru with a practiced frown, he glances between her face and the box. Is it actually large, or is it the scale, considering how it looks in her modest hands? He can't decide. In either case, he steps out of the way and waves her inside.]
Even wrapped up? Any particular reason for the effort?
[She chirps up at him, waddling past in her usual Lalafellian way, her gait more accented thanks to the box in her hands. She does set it down eventually, clearly pleased with herself.]
While working on Mettaton's coat, I was struck with an idea for you. I hope it's to your liking.
[And she gestures to the box for him to take it and open it. Inside he'll find a lovingly crafted black robe, that reaches straight to the floor, with flowing sleeves and a generous hood (made detachable even!). The fabric is not too heavy, but clearly warm and comfortable. The perfect thing to wear during the evening before bed. Atop the folded robes is a mask of sorts - a sleep mask, to be exact, sewn out of plush, soft white fabric. Where the eyes are there's a heavy black fabric stitched atop. Did Tataru just give Emet Amaurotine styled sleepwear? She sure did. What a coincidence.]
[Humming to himself, unwillingly a trace curious in the end, Emet-Selch unfastens the box and pulls out... a very fine black robe. The sort of thing that would be comfortable to lounge around in, and warm-looking enough to certainly be appreciated when colder weather began to set in.
The style certainly was very... Amaurotine. Especially paired with the mask, and it's coincidence enough to have Emet-Selch look askance at her, wondering if this was her way of suggesting that she'd learned some things about him... but he shakes the thought from his mind after a moment. Had Tataru truly discovered what he was, he doubted that she'd be delivering a fine hand-crafted robe privately to him, in some ill-considered gesture of confrontation.
So it's sincere and thoughtful and useful. And similar enough for a small pang of home-sickness. Something that briefly crosses his expression before being smoothed away into neutrality- but he at least doesn't seem displeased by it.]
It's lovely. And unexpected.
[Gratitude wasn't something he was particularly good at showing, and as he keeps the long robe slung over one arm, he slowly traces the outlines of the accompanying mask. It takes effort to wrest his attention from it and onto its crafter.]
Do you want anything for it? 'Tis a fine gift to hand over for nothing.
[Ah...he really likes it, doesn't he? There's obvious delight gripping Tataru's features as she stares at Emet and the way he carefully looks over the mask and robe. His appreciation is ever evident and that has her swaying on her feet, simply happy to soak up his praise. Sure, it was simple appreciation, but it was lacking the usual snark that laced most of what came out of the Garlean's mouth.
He genuinely did think it was lovely. It's probably the best compliment he's given her.]
Something for it? Oh no, no!
[Little hands are raised as she waves them dismissively, but still clearly eager as always.]
The whole point of a gift is to not expect anything in return, after all. I'm simply glad you enjoy it. It's going to become a tad bit colder again, after all, so I figured it would be best if you were prepared to lounge comfortably for the future moons to come.
[He's still not used to genuine, earnest thoughtfulness, without the expectation of reward, and he blinks, the smallest bit off-guard. Both from the nature of the gift itself as well as Tataru's clear pleasure in his reception of it.
But Emet-Selch didn't think that Tataru was trying specifically to curry his favor, or that it was a gift intended to manipulate (it was habit to assume ulterior motives, and while he knew Tataru to be resourceful and not without a touch of ruthless pragmatism, this didn't strike him to be that manner of token). It didn't feel like pity or charity either, just- something that had occurred to her to provide him because she could.
Still a touch subdued (it was how positive things registered to him, with a side of melancholy), he nods to her.]
Then in return, I shall endeavor to make the most use of it as the chill arrives. If it's anything like last year, there will be plenty of opportunity.
[His reaction is a curious one and something that Tataru takes silent note of but makes no comment on. Emet-Selch is delicate like that, she's realized, even if he would staunchly deny it - he's clearly not used to receiving gifts simply for the sake of it.]
I'm glad to hear it! We don't need you going and catching a cold now. If there's one thing I learned about my stay in Ishgard is how dreadful winter weather can be. But I also learned how to make cozy garments there as well.
[It's true, it's the kind of observation that would never go over well, particularly because he'd have a hard time entirely refuting it.]
I assume you're preparing similarly for your own good health? At least with the experience of Ishgard behind you, you're forewarned as to what might be ahead of you.
[Completely unsurprised that she picked up how to make appropriate seasonal- and no doubt attractive-looking- garb.]
Having spent much of my time in Garlemald, I'm not unaccustomed to the bitterness that the season can bring. Though we've avoided the unnatural snows that Ishgard has been made to suffer, 'twas never a welcoming place.
Oh yes of course. I already have a design in mind for myself and for Henry. He's native to the desert as well and so he finds the cold just as unpleasant.
[While the Warrior of Light was off fighting dragons and getting up to trouble, Tataru had much to busy her time with after all.]
Speaking of bitterness, I'll have to perfect the perfect winter drink to sip on. Will you offer yourself up to taste test?
Ah, how convenient for you both, then. Given your shared background of excessive heat, you would understand what's required to keep one accustomed to a desert's sun comfortable.
[Tataru took the more reasonable career path, really. More sustainable than 'killing dragons' or 'saving nations.']
But I'm glad to hear you're still expanding your repertoire when it comes to the beverage trade. Of course. Mettaton will probably want to try it as well- he's been curious over alcohol.
[Look she never wanted to be a hero, okay. She just wants to make cash money. That's her true goal in life.]
I've no qualms about getting him to try some...but can he consume it? He is mechanical, is he not?
[She still doesn't exactly understand what in seven hells Mettaton is but, y'know. She knows well enough that unless it's an engine, alcohol and mechanical bits don't exactly mix.]
[It's not the most noble of goals, but at least it's direct.]
He is a machine, but I've witnessed him drinking things before with no issue. [Mostly his own blood.] I don't profess to understand how it works myself... perhaps it has something to do with his partially organic state upon becoming a puca.
[It still didn't explain much, to be honest.]
In any case, it won't harm him, even if he won't get drunk from it either.
[The surprise on her face is obvious as she stares up at him. It still makes no sense to her but then again Mettaton has a set of rabbit ears...so who knows. It wasn't as if Eorzea wasn't without strange beings.]
Well in that case I'd be happy to have him try some.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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I'll be there shortly.
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[But he'll just wait downstairs with the door unlocked, sprawled out over the full length of a couch, boredly poking through his watch in the meantime.]
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Even wrapped up? Any particular reason for the effort?
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[She chirps up at him, waddling past in her usual Lalafellian way, her gait more accented thanks to the box in her hands. She does set it down eventually, clearly pleased with herself.]
While working on Mettaton's coat, I was struck with an idea for you. I hope it's to your liking.
[And she gestures to the box for him to take it and open it. Inside he'll find a lovingly crafted black robe, that reaches straight to the floor, with flowing sleeves and a generous hood (made detachable even!). The fabric is not too heavy, but clearly warm and comfortable. The perfect thing to wear during the evening before bed. Atop the folded robes is a mask of sorts - a sleep mask, to be exact, sewn out of plush, soft white fabric. Where the eyes are there's a heavy black fabric stitched atop. Did Tataru just give Emet Amaurotine styled sleepwear? She sure did. What a coincidence.]
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The style certainly was very... Amaurotine. Especially paired with the mask, and it's coincidence enough to have Emet-Selch look askance at her, wondering if this was her way of suggesting that she'd learned some things about him... but he shakes the thought from his mind after a moment. Had Tataru truly discovered what he was, he doubted that she'd be delivering a fine hand-crafted robe privately to him, in some ill-considered gesture of confrontation.
So it's sincere and thoughtful and useful. And similar enough for a small pang of home-sickness. Something that briefly crosses his expression before being smoothed away into neutrality- but he at least doesn't seem displeased by it.]
It's lovely. And unexpected.
[Gratitude wasn't something he was particularly good at showing, and as he keeps the long robe slung over one arm, he slowly traces the outlines of the accompanying mask. It takes effort to wrest his attention from it and onto its crafter.]
Do you want anything for it? 'Tis a fine gift to hand over for nothing.
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He genuinely did think it was lovely. It's probably the best compliment he's given her.]
Something for it? Oh no, no!
[Little hands are raised as she waves them dismissively, but still clearly eager as always.]
The whole point of a gift is to not expect anything in return, after all. I'm simply glad you enjoy it. It's going to become a tad bit colder again, after all, so I figured it would be best if you were prepared to lounge comfortably for the future moons to come.
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[He's still not used to genuine, earnest thoughtfulness, without the expectation of reward, and he blinks, the smallest bit off-guard. Both from the nature of the gift itself as well as Tataru's clear pleasure in his reception of it.
But Emet-Selch didn't think that Tataru was trying specifically to curry his favor, or that it was a gift intended to manipulate (it was habit to assume ulterior motives, and while he knew Tataru to be resourceful and not without a touch of ruthless pragmatism, this didn't strike him to be that manner of token). It didn't feel like pity or charity either, just- something that had occurred to her to provide him because she could.
Still a touch subdued (it was how positive things registered to him, with a side of melancholy), he nods to her.]
Then in return, I shall endeavor to make the most use of it as the chill arrives. If it's anything like last year, there will be plenty of opportunity.
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I'm glad to hear it! We don't need you going and catching a cold now. If there's one thing I learned about my stay in Ishgard is how dreadful winter weather can be. But I also learned how to make cozy garments there as well.
[Which should come as no surprise.]
Truly though, I'm happy it'll be of use to you.
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I assume you're preparing similarly for your own good health? At least with the experience of Ishgard behind you, you're forewarned as to what might be ahead of you.
[Completely unsurprised that she picked up how to make appropriate seasonal- and no doubt attractive-looking- garb.]
Having spent much of my time in Garlemald, I'm not unaccustomed to the bitterness that the season can bring. Though we've avoided the unnatural snows that Ishgard has been made to suffer, 'twas never a welcoming place.
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[While the Warrior of Light was off fighting dragons and getting up to trouble, Tataru had much to busy her time with after all.]
Speaking of bitterness, I'll have to perfect the perfect winter drink to sip on. Will you offer yourself up to taste test?
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[Tataru took the more reasonable career path, really. More sustainable than 'killing dragons' or 'saving nations.']
But I'm glad to hear you're still expanding your repertoire when it comes to the beverage trade. Of course. Mettaton will probably want to try it as well- he's been curious over alcohol.
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I've no qualms about getting him to try some...but can he consume it? He is mechanical, is he not?
[She still doesn't exactly understand what in seven hells Mettaton is but, y'know. She knows well enough that unless it's an engine, alcohol and mechanical bits don't exactly mix.]
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He is a machine, but I've witnessed him drinking things before with no issue. [Mostly his own blood.] I don't profess to understand how it works myself... perhaps it has something to do with his partially organic state upon becoming a puca.
[It still didn't explain much, to be honest.]
In any case, it won't harm him, even if he won't get drunk from it either.
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[The surprise on her face is obvious as she stares up at him. It still makes no sense to her but then again Mettaton has a set of rabbit ears...so who knows. It wasn't as if Eorzea wasn't without strange beings.]
Well in that case I'd be happy to have him try some.