[There was a part of Mettaton who wanted to abandon whatever this formerly was, if not for the truly heartfelt connection he made with his own memories of... some other time and place. It felt so weighted, and he wasn't sure how to approach it all. But there's just something about Emet-Selch that draws him in, that keeps him close...
These weren't memories he wanted to let go of and let settle, never to be recalled, even if they felt distant to him now. Mettaton actively wants to remember them, to delve deep and uncover the mysteries of living in Aefenglom with Emet-Selch by his side as his Witch Bonded, as his friend, as eventually his husband.
(Mettaton remembers that they both understood patience. Well. When he thinks of himself, he knows he had to wait for entirely too long to get a body, to corporealize, to see the sun... A patience that shouldn't have had to be. He remembers Emet-Selch claiming patience, too.
It was for a reason entirely different from his own, but still an unfair one. Unfair enough that intrinsically, he knew that they shouldn't have to practice patience when it came to attaining what they coveted most in each other's presence. Mettaton wonders how Emet-Selch's life has been, what turbulence and hardship he's faced.)
His thoughts about their previous life together span but for seconds, as they're still focused on lightning, magic, and ayakashi. It's true enough... Nobody's mentioned anything about the Arukibake being particularly dangerous, or startling anyone like this. Mettaton hums, lips thinning as he gazes around them at the mounds of little leggy ghosts who fade in and out, placidly watching over Emet-Selch. There are so many of them... He's still staggered by their numbers. Wherever he looked, as long as he was looking, there were Arukibake to be spotted, settled gently in flora and hiding out in treetops.
Beyond them, the robot didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. So when Emet-Selch offers Kizuna as the explanation, Mettaton bolts up. (In the corners of his mind, he wonders if his rabbit-shaped ears would've stood tall with his alertness.)]
Kizuna! Brilliant, darling! [His smile splits wider, and he leans for Emet-Selch, gripping with equal strength upon his thigh.] That could be it. I wonder why it decided to show itself, in such a peculiar way?
[Kizuna... And whose was it? Mettaton inspects Emet-Selch's face this close, trying to recall what they were doing when the sparks flew. They were... contemplating their sex lives, analyzing their bodies, venturing into more explicit territory by memory, by word.
Smile going from excitement to something more sultry, dark lashes curtaining his gaze, Mettaton chuckles.]
Well. A certain tension was high between us. Do you think... we could make it happen again?
[For experiment's sake. Just to watch their connection in evidence, to see how their chemistry was a reaction explosive, electric.]
no subject
These weren't memories he wanted to let go of and let settle, never to be recalled, even if they felt distant to him now. Mettaton actively wants to remember them, to delve deep and uncover the mysteries of living in Aefenglom with Emet-Selch by his side as his Witch Bonded, as his friend, as eventually his husband.
(Mettaton remembers that they both understood patience. Well. When he thinks of himself, he knows he had to wait for entirely too long to get a body, to corporealize, to see the sun... A patience that shouldn't have had to be. He remembers Emet-Selch claiming patience, too.
It was for a reason entirely different from his own, but still an unfair one. Unfair enough that intrinsically, he knew that they shouldn't have to practice patience when it came to attaining what they coveted most in each other's presence. Mettaton wonders how Emet-Selch's life has been, what turbulence and hardship he's faced.)
His thoughts about their previous life together span but for seconds, as they're still focused on lightning, magic, and ayakashi. It's true enough... Nobody's mentioned anything about the Arukibake being particularly dangerous, or startling anyone like this. Mettaton hums, lips thinning as he gazes around them at the mounds of little leggy ghosts who fade in and out, placidly watching over Emet-Selch. There are so many of them... He's still staggered by their numbers. Wherever he looked, as long as he was looking, there were Arukibake to be spotted, settled gently in flora and hiding out in treetops.
Beyond them, the robot didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. So when Emet-Selch offers Kizuna as the explanation, Mettaton bolts up. (In the corners of his mind, he wonders if his rabbit-shaped ears would've stood tall with his alertness.)]
Kizuna! Brilliant, darling! [His smile splits wider, and he leans for Emet-Selch, gripping with equal strength upon his thigh.] That could be it. I wonder why it decided to show itself, in such a peculiar way?
[Kizuna... And whose was it? Mettaton inspects Emet-Selch's face this close, trying to recall what they were doing when the sparks flew. They were... contemplating their sex lives, analyzing their bodies, venturing into more explicit territory by memory, by word.
Smile going from excitement to something more sultry, dark lashes curtaining his gaze, Mettaton chuckles.]
Well. A certain tension was high between us. Do you think... we could make it happen again?
[For experiment's sake. Just to watch their connection in evidence, to see how their chemistry was a reaction explosive, electric.]