[On Mettaton's end of things, he's convinced more and more that Emet-Selch was responsible for his complete recovery. And he sighs, dreamy, tossing his head down upon less-than-luxurious pillows and letting his "phone" drop loosely upon the blankets. Somehow, he grew a whole arm. If it weren't his creation magic, it still had to be a miracle of some kind... and what sort of miracle could take place here than a wish?
His phone vibrates with impending messages, but Mettaton's too busy dreaming of Emet-Selch wishing for his health, bowing before the Crystal with his husband in mind. How dreamy... Mettaton loves to be thought of and cared for, and it was a good use of shards. If he didn't wish it, it would have to be some spin on healing magic.
He was the culprit. That, Mettaton was sure of.
So he picks up his phone by twisting his wrist, reading over Emet-Selch's messages with a cheerful hum. (He felt so good, his mood included. The red moons felt lightyears away... even when he knew they'd just happened.) He taps away again, pulling his phone closer to his face as he relaxes his weight into the bed.]
My imagination, at our service! I don't need muscles to enjoy your touch, my love. And you were so thorough... Your touch, so deep. So, so deep... I'd salivate, if I could.
[Another thing lost: Mettaton's ability to produce saliva. Awkward as it was to sprout that function, it was a shame to lose.]
You haven't lost your resourcefulness, darling. And I bet you knew exactly what to do... and you did it in secret! Oh, Hades, you doll. Could I ask of you another favor? I want to tell you something, but I want to do so in person... Would you come to me?
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His phone vibrates with impending messages, but Mettaton's too busy dreaming of Emet-Selch wishing for his health, bowing before the Crystal with his husband in mind. How dreamy... Mettaton loves to be thought of and cared for, and it was a good use of shards. If he didn't wish it, it would have to be some spin on healing magic.
He was the culprit. That, Mettaton was sure of.
So he picks up his phone by twisting his wrist, reading over Emet-Selch's messages with a cheerful hum. (He felt so good, his mood included. The red moons felt lightyears away... even when he knew they'd just happened.) He taps away again, pulling his phone closer to his face as he relaxes his weight into the bed.]
My imagination, at our service! I don't need muscles to enjoy your touch, my love. And you were so thorough... Your touch, so deep. So, so deep... I'd salivate, if I could.
[Another thing lost: Mettaton's ability to produce saliva. Awkward as it was to sprout that function, it was a shame to lose.]
You haven't lost your resourcefulness, darling. And I bet you knew exactly what to do... and you did it in secret! Oh, Hades, you doll. Could I ask of you another favor? I want to tell you something, but I want to do so in person... Would you come to me?