[Emet-Selch's hands round his back to press firmly against his chest, and Mettaton obeys their direction far enough to quit pushing the egg into Emet-Selch's soft middle. His eye blows wide with surprise, as though he hadn't foreseen such a severe rejection out of Emet-Selch.
And then he pouts.]
Waste? You don't like my idea?
[Brow furrowing, Mettaton settles back just slightly enough that at least Emet-Selch isn't being crushed under him/egg. His arms remain slung around his back, and Mettaton clings fast to him, even though he's settled slightly back now.]
I thought it was a fabulous idea! Then, what sort of establishment would you be willing to finance?
[Mettaton is flexible, as he overlooks the fact that it's perhaps the mention of a hypothetical MTT fountain that is what has Emet-Selch ticked. That seems a small detail to him, that would just come as part of the parcel deal- or perhaps something he'd angle for in future, as he refines his vision. With, or without, Emet-Selch's help.
Scooting close, nudging Emet-Selch's thighs well onto his lap, Mettaton gazes at Emet-Selch's face, soaking in his drawn features. Flattening his palms against his back, the robot leans over the egg again, curling around it rather than pressing into it.]
I'm about making profit, so we no longer have to perform odd tasks around town for our keep. And if you'd do it with me... I'd want it to be something you agree to.
[Plus any additional things Mettaton sneaks in there, or otherwise adds on... The idea of stuffing his wait staff into silly costumes, for example, is not something that is stated. There are all kinds of horrors to behold. A labyrinth, outside of the labyrinth... of Bad Decisions.]
no subject
And then he pouts.]
Waste? You don't like my idea?
[Brow furrowing, Mettaton settles back just slightly enough that at least Emet-Selch isn't being crushed under him/egg. His arms remain slung around his back, and Mettaton clings fast to him, even though he's settled slightly back now.]
I thought it was a fabulous idea! Then, what sort of establishment would you be willing to finance?
[Mettaton is flexible, as he overlooks the fact that it's perhaps the mention of a hypothetical MTT fountain that is what has Emet-Selch ticked. That seems a small detail to him, that would just come as part of the parcel deal- or perhaps something he'd angle for in future, as he refines his vision. With, or without, Emet-Selch's help.
Scooting close, nudging Emet-Selch's thighs well onto his lap, Mettaton gazes at Emet-Selch's face, soaking in his drawn features. Flattening his palms against his back, the robot leans over the egg again, curling around it rather than pressing into it.]
I'm about making profit, so we no longer have to perform odd tasks around town for our keep. And if you'd do it with me... I'd want it to be something you agree to.
[Plus any additional things Mettaton sneaks in there, or otherwise adds on... The idea of stuffing his wait staff into silly costumes, for example, is not something that is stated. There are all kinds of horrors to behold. A labyrinth, outside of the labyrinth... of Bad Decisions.]