"I could reach you anywhere in this room, darling. Haha."
A cocky smirk. That's just how it is, being a robot.
On a more practical level, the Puca watches Elidibus get to work on arranging the room; for that, silence washes over him. In the meanwhile, he sinks closer against Emet-Selch's shoulder, protective and nearly guarding his Witch—from what, he wouldn't be able to say. It's instinctive, really.
Following the Emissary as he wanders about the room, Mettaton takes takes stock of his own body even as he's curled close to his Bonded. A body formerly coated in dried blood and matted fur, Mettaton's ears... barely twitch at the sight, a direction toward improvement finally attained. He smiles, too busy staring at himself to notice the second chair.
"That close, I could hold you." Mettaton giggles, leaning into peck Emet-Selch's cheek. To Elidibus: "How sweet of you, darling."
With a chair at Emet-Selch's side, Mettaton determinedly takes his lover's hand as though for stability. But Elidibus arrives to whisk him off for his assigned seat, and Mettaton's not about to deny the assistance to his feet. It's only with a small noise of complaint in his throat that he's made to loosen his grip on Emet-Selch's hand, though Mettaton finally rises, guided by Elidibus' help.
Given that Elidibus is fully capable of supporting the heavy robot, Mettaton sighs, batting his eye at him. "Oooh, so you can hold small hares and voluptuous robots... Most people can't handle this body."
A grin. Mettaton will cooperate, either guided or lifted to his bedside chair—where he'll settle and immediately take Emet-Selch's hand with an affected sigh of relief.
no subject
A cocky smirk. That's just how it is, being a robot.
On a more practical level, the Puca watches Elidibus get to work on arranging the room; for that, silence washes over him. In the meanwhile, he sinks closer against Emet-Selch's shoulder, protective and nearly guarding his Witch—from what, he wouldn't be able to say. It's instinctive, really.
Following the Emissary as he wanders about the room, Mettaton takes takes stock of his own body even as he's curled close to his Bonded. A body formerly coated in dried blood and matted fur, Mettaton's ears... barely twitch at the sight, a direction toward improvement finally attained. He smiles, too busy staring at himself to notice the second chair.
"That close, I could hold you." Mettaton giggles, leaning into peck Emet-Selch's cheek. To Elidibus: "How sweet of you, darling."
With a chair at Emet-Selch's side, Mettaton determinedly takes his lover's hand as though for stability. But Elidibus arrives to whisk him off for his assigned seat, and Mettaton's not about to deny the assistance to his feet. It's only with a small noise of complaint in his throat that he's made to loosen his grip on Emet-Selch's hand, though Mettaton finally rises, guided by Elidibus' help.
Given that Elidibus is fully capable of supporting the heavy robot, Mettaton sighs, batting his eye at him. "Oooh, so you can hold small hares and voluptuous robots... Most people can't handle this body."
A grin. Mettaton will cooperate, either guided or lifted to his bedside chair—where he'll settle and immediately take Emet-Selch's hand with an affected sigh of relief.