[Yes. Yes. Mettaton chants internally many different coaxing, hopeful agreements, smiling and nodding ever-so-slightly as he sees Eren glance between the (oh, sharpened) ends of his arm, versus the chocolate knife he holds in a nice ornamental box.
But what surprises him is how effective knives are... He'd heard about it. But seeing it first hand... (And he registered his arm as categorically relevant?!)
It's too long for Mettaton to be so still and quiet, but he remains that way with bated breath he doesn't possess, robot that he is. And finally, finally, Eren holds out... three hands.
One of them's Mettaton's, and that's all that matters.
With a skip, the Puca carelessly (and perhaps even recklessly) closes that distance.]
Well, I said to give it to me first, but! I'll take it. [Knife box set in one palm, and now the Puca's reaching for his rightful prize: his arm!] I hope you find that blade as sweet a victory, as I find reclaiming my arm to be!! I may have handsome legs, but I still use my arms!
[Yes Eren, look at the shine of dark hardened chocolate. The occasional flicker of sparkle from where fae dust had gotten caught in the mix. Clearly, this knife was sharper than the arm, it was made for this.
At Mettaton's recklessness, Mikasa falters. Blinking. Mtt plz, wait until Eren had fully extended, putting himself off balance for the trade. But nevermind, it was too late and she couldn't say anything without being noticed.
But she keeps her watch trained on the two. All that time recording Tater waddle was being put to good use. Now Mettaton just had to go before Eren realised he'd been duped.]
[ sorry, mettaton and company— as soon as the box’s weight taps onto his palm, eren’s remaining fingers snap into a curl much like a predatory plant around it; the arm is given freedom, but the box is now taken by both greedy claws. any words that the puca has spoken are replied to with a now disinterest grunt as he marvels, like a child in a candy store (this will not age well) at the boxed, sleek black knife. his tail returns to him as he also chooses to walk some paces away from them, but just enough to give himself protective space to inspect the new addition to his collection. how lovely a point, the shine, it even looks like its been carefully crafted into one as his talons diligently lift the faux blade from its cell.
the dragon’s tail curl’s around his own ankles, and his possession runs amok in his thoughts. eren allows the object to fall flat on both palms now that he venerates it, touches and licks and creates too much friction for molded chocolate to handle. the blade’s face dents as its turned over eagerly, almost immediately turned over once more when keen reptilian eyes catch the molded spot of his own damn finger.
[That was a fast grab. As soon as Eren takes the box, Mettaton's nearly concerned that in his reverie, he'd forget to hand back his, well, hand... But Eren gives his arm at the tug of it, and Mettaton takes his precious limb back. His ears bolt upright at the sensation of his transaction gone so smoothly, and the Puca even jumps for joy. Just a little skip to his step, a sort of half-circle first around Eren, then around the... invisible Mikasa.]
Fabulous!! It's a deal, then. Well! I'd better be heading off, so I can put myself in the capable hands of a queen of a machinist! I have an appointment already set. [Like he's off to get his nails done, or something.
Mettaton bounds forward by a few steps, sure to proclaim loudly that he intends to leave... Even though he can tell Eren's absorbed by the knife.]
You really do like... ... [... Nevermind. It was near ritualistic and rapturous, the way he was just... —Well, Mettaton knows that he'd better head off before the knife melts.] Whatever. Hope you find that knife as sweet as I do, darling! Toodles!
[Mikasa... come hither. If she doesn't, it's not that Mettaton knows where she is. He sort of gazes at the air, unable to see where she is at all. Then, he makes a dash for it.]
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But what surprises him is how effective knives are... He'd heard about it. But seeing it first hand... (And he registered his arm as categorically relevant?!)
It's too long for Mettaton to be so still and quiet, but he remains that way with bated breath he doesn't possess, robot that he is. And finally, finally, Eren holds out... three hands.
One of them's Mettaton's, and that's all that matters.
With a skip, the Puca carelessly (and perhaps even recklessly) closes that distance.]
Well, I said to give it to me first, but! I'll take it. [Knife box set in one palm, and now the Puca's reaching for his rightful prize: his arm!] I hope you find that blade as sweet a victory, as I find reclaiming my arm to be!! I may have handsome legs, but I still use my arms!
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At Mettaton's recklessness, Mikasa falters. Blinking. Mtt plz, wait until Eren had fully extended, putting himself off balance for the trade. But nevermind, it was too late and she couldn't say anything without being noticed.
But she keeps her watch trained on the two. All that time recording Tater waddle was being put to good use. Now Mettaton just had to go before Eren realised he'd been duped.]
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the dragon’s tail curl’s around his own ankles, and his possession runs amok in his thoughts. eren allows the object to fall flat on both palms now that he venerates it, touches and licks and creates too much friction for molded chocolate to handle. the blade’s face dents as its turned over eagerly, almost immediately turned over once more when keen reptilian eyes catch the molded spot of his own damn finger.
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Fabulous!! It's a deal, then. Well! I'd better be heading off, so I can put myself in the capable hands of a queen of a machinist! I have an appointment already set. [Like he's off to get his nails done, or something.
Mettaton bounds forward by a few steps, sure to proclaim loudly that he intends to leave... Even though he can tell Eren's absorbed by the knife.]
You really do like... ... [... Nevermind. It was near ritualistic and rapturous, the way he was just... —Well, Mettaton knows that he'd better head off before the knife melts.] Whatever. Hope you find that knife as sweet as I do, darling! Toodles!
[Mikasa... come hither. If she doesn't, it's not that Mettaton knows where she is. He sort of gazes at the air, unable to see where she is at all. Then, he makes a dash for it.]
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Then for a second a chittering-laugh slipped through the illusion and she still...
Then she too bolted. The illusion coming undone completely as she got to the corner Mettaton had turned down. ]