[At some point after waking up from one of many naps that have occurred over this past week, Emet-Selch idly checks his watch to see if there's anything new, anything interesting that he can concentrate on that's something other than being incredibly sore and tired. He's still mostly in the same position as he was in the video when he watches it- a watching that'll be pretty obvious, Mettaton's voice ringing out once more in their small hospital room.
Emet-Selch notes himself there with a frown and a sigh, though it doesn't keep him from resting his head against the puca's body. As the tone of the recording changes though, that mild disapproval mostly fades. He knew that Mettaton had been close to Mikasa... and though it had certainly been startling to them both to discover she was gone (the pain in his Bonds having given way to a dull void in the case of one of them had further confirmed it), he also knew that the puca was the one suffering more for it. The Ascian had the severed Bond to contend with, but while he'd liked Mikasa in a way, and they had begun actually learning more about one another, they still hadn't been particularly close. While Mettaton had even been inclined to go look for her, in his current state... and seeing his distress, even Emet-Selch hadn't tried to convince him to stay. The robot had returned soon enough anyway, empty-handed.
That the Ascian would reply to his posting was a given. And he could just respond verbally. He is literally resting against the originator of this message. And Mettaton's awake, so it's not as though laboriously typing a reply would spare the chance of waking him unnecessarily.
And yet. Here we are. Slow, pointless typing.]
How am I doing...? Terribly. My sleep was even recently disturbed by some obnoxious voice speaking far too loudly and closely to ignore. Perhaps you'd know something about that?
[It hadn't been disturbed at all. He'd slept soundly through Mettaton's entire broadcast, and even if he hadn't, well- he liked his voice anyway. They both knew that.
But he moves on, to a more serious reply. There was no way he could suggest that Mikasa would be fine. She was human, normal, mortal, and she was from a place where those traits accompanied a life frequently made briefer than necessary.]
Despite the dangers she faced, she wanted to return. Without settling things at home, I doubt that she ever would have been happy here.
[Not that he knew how anything in her world would even be settled, apart from an ending that resulted in her death. Though for mortals, at least, death was a certain release from obligations. 'Perhaps she'll return once she's dead' isn't something he particularly wants to say, though.]
text for some godforsaken reason;
Emet-Selch notes himself there with a frown and a sigh, though it doesn't keep him from resting his head against the puca's body. As the tone of the recording changes though, that mild disapproval mostly fades. He knew that Mettaton had been close to Mikasa... and though it had certainly been startling to them both to discover she was gone (the pain in his Bonds having given way to a dull void in the case of one of them had further confirmed it), he also knew that the puca was the one suffering more for it. The Ascian had the severed Bond to contend with, but while he'd liked Mikasa in a way, and they had begun actually learning more about one another, they still hadn't been particularly close. While Mettaton had even been inclined to go look for her, in his current state... and seeing his distress, even Emet-Selch hadn't tried to convince him to stay. The robot had returned soon enough anyway, empty-handed.
That the Ascian would reply to his posting was a given. And he could just respond verbally. He is literally resting against the originator of this message. And Mettaton's awake, so it's not as though laboriously typing a reply would spare the chance of waking him unnecessarily.
And yet. Here we are. Slow, pointless typing.]
How am I doing...? Terribly. My sleep was even recently disturbed by some obnoxious voice speaking far too loudly and closely to ignore. Perhaps you'd know something about that?
[It hadn't been disturbed at all. He'd slept soundly through Mettaton's entire broadcast, and even if he hadn't, well- he liked his voice anyway. They both knew that.
But he moves on, to a more serious reply. There was no way he could suggest that Mikasa would be fine. She was human, normal, mortal, and she was from a place where those traits accompanied a life frequently made briefer than necessary.]
Despite the dangers she faced, she wanted to return. Without settling things at home, I doubt that she ever would have been happy here.
[Not that he knew how anything in her world would even be settled, apart from an ending that resulted in her death. Though for mortals, at least, death was a certain release from obligations. 'Perhaps she'll return once she's dead' isn't something he particularly wants to say, though.]