The host Elidibus took was rather strong, the Ascian had to admit to himself. As would be expected from both an adventurer and a former/current Warrior of Light. Emet-Selch knew he would have had a much harder time picking up the heavy robot at all, especially in the ever-dashing princess-carry position (he was normally the one being princess-carried).
The request for the robot to demonstrate a basic robot function- Emet-Selch could feel a bit of the puca's startle and unease through their recovering Bond, but he can't help but permit himself a brief, amused smile at how the ostensible machine chooses to respond. The offense at being asked to do something robotic... yes, this is about what he might have expected from him. He knew perfectly well Mettaton could do nothing of the sort. Even his battery life seemed to be something he only had a general sense of.
And technically, it did count as some sort of diagnostics check, only filtered through Mettaton's particular personality. Content with the solid grip on his hand, Emet-Selch glances back to Elidibus. "I told you he was alive. 'Tis more straightforward to treat with him as such."
Rather than treating the robot as a... robot.
Diversion as it all was, it only briefly distracted from the inevitability of more Washing. There was a bit of steeling to be done between them, he knew. Emet-Selch wasn't shy, nor modest, but he was ultimately more of a private sort, and what was more personal than one's body? Except, of course, this was just a host, no different than a bit of clothing, something fleshy to wrap around the soul. Any body would be viewed that way after so many years without, an object that was his but not him. So in that regard, why did it matter? Even if this was a bit of fabric that could no longer be readily removed and replaced with a fresher piece.
It was both more and less awkward for Elidibus to be the one performing the task. It wasn't as though Emet-Selch weren't already fully aware as to how many others had seen his body. It felt like half the hospital had been involved in his necromancy and healing, and subsequent efforts to both reach Mettaton and ensure that he was likewise resurrected. And why would that bother him, or even so much as register? Any thoughts those people might have (especially considering the amount of older, non-fatality-related markings his body possessed) never occurred to him, because he still didn't see the average mortal as much of a person. If pressed, he might hesitantly agree that they were alive, but it would also be clear that he didn't think of them that way.
Elidibus, though, was one of the very few of the city that he definitely considered as completely alive, a whole entire person (no matter the state of his memories) and someone who he knew besides. That part especially just made it awkward.
But his look, when gazing back upon the other Ascian, is something resolute (and with a touch- only a touch, as it was about all he could scrape up- of performative exasperation, as though this were all just a dreadful hassle, but one which he would stoically be made to endure). He was ready to be washed, handled, observed, and otherwise banded around in a too-small room while his fiancé also observed.
no subject
The request for the robot to demonstrate a basic robot function- Emet-Selch could feel a bit of the puca's startle and unease through their recovering Bond, but he can't help but permit himself a brief, amused smile at how the ostensible machine chooses to respond. The offense at being asked to do something robotic... yes, this is about what he might have expected from him. He knew perfectly well Mettaton could do nothing of the sort. Even his battery life seemed to be something he only had a general sense of.
And technically, it did count as some sort of diagnostics check, only filtered through Mettaton's particular personality. Content with the solid grip on his hand, Emet-Selch glances back to Elidibus. "I told you he was alive. 'Tis more straightforward to treat with him as such."
Rather than treating the robot as a... robot.
Diversion as it all was, it only briefly distracted from the inevitability of more Washing. There was a bit of steeling to be done between them, he knew. Emet-Selch wasn't shy, nor modest, but he was ultimately more of a private sort, and what was more personal than one's body? Except, of course, this was just a host, no different than a bit of clothing, something fleshy to wrap around the soul. Any body would be viewed that way after so many years without, an object that was his but not him. So in that regard, why did it matter? Even if this was a bit of fabric that could no longer be readily removed and replaced with a fresher piece.
It was both more and less awkward for Elidibus to be the one performing the task. It wasn't as though Emet-Selch weren't already fully aware as to how many others had seen his body. It felt like half the hospital had been involved in his necromancy and healing, and subsequent efforts to both reach Mettaton and ensure that he was likewise resurrected. And why would that bother him, or even so much as register? Any thoughts those people might have (especially considering the amount of older, non-fatality-related markings his body possessed) never occurred to him, because he still didn't see the average mortal as much of a person. If pressed, he might hesitantly agree that they were alive, but it would also be clear that he didn't think of them that way.
Elidibus, though, was one of the very few of the city that he definitely considered as completely alive, a whole entire person (no matter the state of his memories) and someone who he knew besides. That part especially just made it awkward.
But his look, when gazing back upon the other Ascian, is something resolute (and with a touch- only a touch, as it was about all he could scrape up- of performative exasperation, as though this were all just a dreadful hassle, but one which he would stoically be made to endure). He was ready to be washed, handled, observed, and otherwise banded around in a too-small room while his fiancé also observed.