[Mettaton has only been able to use this particular body of his for a grand total of six months in any way that wasn't a test run, including his time in Aefenglom, but he's incredibly good at knowing how to position himself given his odd anatomy. His broad shoulder guard is tucked above Emet-Selch's as he sidles close to him, his contented humming interrupted by a few laughs as he presses his entire palm to his chest rather than only his fingertips.
The mere notion that he'd have a mood that didn't involve speaking is ridiculous. He wouldn't even allow many moments to go by in the Rathmore's basement for not speaking, and that was a trying ordeal. He did have his moments, though few were spent in the presence of others. In fact, it was only with Emet-Selch and, to a lesser extent, Papyrus, who were treated to his silence. Papyrus, so he could allow him some sleep out of pity, and Emet-Selch because he found a chance to mentally withdraw from it all. In his presence, of all places.]
How sad would that be? Me, not talking as I always do. If it isn't for the sake of repose... Any other mood where I'm not talking would only be bad news. Because they don't exist. How disturbing, my silence.
[What's that supposed to mean, comparing Mettaton's dislike to Emet-Selch's concern? It makes him want it, after all. Even as he falsifies Emet-Selch's concern for the sake of his own enjoyment, he knows the true article exists. Though he'd say that wanting him in good shape equates to caring, anyway.
He spits the very word like it's gross. MTT finds this endearing.]
no subject
The mere notion that he'd have a mood that didn't involve speaking is ridiculous. He wouldn't even allow many moments to go by in the Rathmore's basement for not speaking, and that was a trying ordeal. He did have his moments, though few were spent in the presence of others. In fact, it was only with Emet-Selch and, to a lesser extent, Papyrus, who were treated to his silence. Papyrus, so he could allow him some sleep out of pity, and Emet-Selch because he found a chance to mentally withdraw from it all. In his presence, of all places.]
How sad would that be? Me, not talking as I always do. If it isn't for the sake of repose... Any other mood where I'm not talking would only be bad news. Because they don't exist. How disturbing, my silence.
[What's that supposed to mean, comparing Mettaton's dislike to Emet-Selch's concern? It makes him want it, after all. Even as he falsifies Emet-Selch's concern for the sake of his own enjoyment, he knows the true article exists. Though he'd say that wanting him in good shape equates to caring, anyway.
He spits the very word like it's gross. MTT finds this endearing.]
Maybe then you'd be concerned.