[He's quiet, listening, trying to--trying to read between the lines, like he always does. It just...doesn't make sense. That's one way to look at it? No, Sans is pretty sure it's basically the only way to look at it, unless you're literally capable of being two different people, in two places at once. The kids deserve better? Yes, obviously, but that's not really what they're talking about here. He's listening, but he doesn't agree? Why the hell wouldn't he agree?]
[It's a waste of time?]
[It's a waste of time.]
[And he mentioned Papyrus's Mirror, and all of that, and usually Mettaton is awfully careful about that stuff. Awfully gentle, and he doesn't really need to. Sans is pretty sure that Mettaton is still kind of torn up about it, which also doesn't make sense, but in a more familiar way. In the familiar "why would anyone care that much about me" sort of way.]
[And he's thinking about that split-second moment when he saw a bone flying toward Papyrus, a split-second decision that wasn't even really a decision, how it felt like he had all the time in the world to decide, and no time at all, and how time is funny like that.]
[And he's thinking about the very particular feeling that comes with dying at the hands of someone you care about.]
mettaton.
[But it's a waste of time. Waste of time to think about all that. Waste of time to worry about something like that happening again, because it's not like Sans can stop it.]
[He's said too much. He knows this. His mirror knows this. The grip on his fingers would be painful if Mettaton thought about it.
He messed up. He shouldn't have talked. Don't engage. Don't fight.]
What's going on with me?
[He... laughs. It's funny. This is funny. Brush this off. Laugh it off.
And then make some changes. This method won't work anymore. He doesn't need to look at the mirror to know that he thinks so too.]
Nothing is going on with me, Sans. You're reading into something that isn't there. Now really, I must go.
[I'll talk to you later he almost says but that's not right, is it? He won't talk to him later. He can't talk to him. He's distracting him from what he needs to do.
He looks to the mirror and already he sees the plan: hide the mirrors when you leave, put extra locks on your door, have an exit strategy to leave the room unnoticed if he or others get too pushy. This is gonna be a long talk between them but it's needed.]
Good bye, Sans.
[He ends the connection. He hangs up. Then he gets to work.]
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mettatonvevo) wrote2016-05-30 02:20 am
no subject
[It's a waste of time?]
[It's a waste of time.]
[And he mentioned Papyrus's Mirror, and all of that, and usually Mettaton is awfully careful about that stuff. Awfully gentle, and he doesn't really need to. Sans is pretty sure that Mettaton is still kind of torn up about it, which also doesn't make sense, but in a more familiar way. In the familiar "why would anyone care that much about me" sort of way.]
[And he's thinking about that split-second moment when he saw a bone flying toward Papyrus, a split-second decision that wasn't even really a decision, how it felt like he had all the time in the world to decide, and no time at all, and how time is funny like that.]
[And he's thinking about the very particular feeling that comes with dying at the hands of someone you care about.]
mettaton.
[But it's a waste of time. Waste of time to think about all that. Waste of time to worry about something like that happening again, because it's not like Sans can stop it.]
[It's not like Sans can ever stop anything.]
what the hell is going on with you?
no subject
He messed up. He shouldn't have talked. Don't engage. Don't fight.]
What's going on with me?
[He... laughs. It's funny. This is funny. Brush this off. Laugh it off.
And then make some changes. This method won't work anymore. He doesn't need to look at the mirror to know that he thinks so too.]
Nothing is going on with me, Sans. You're reading into something that isn't there. Now really, I must go.
[I'll talk to you later he almost says but that's not right, is it? He won't talk to him later. He can't talk to him. He's distracting him from what he needs to do.
He looks to the mirror and already he sees the plan: hide the mirrors when you leave, put extra locks on your door, have an exit strategy to leave the room unnoticed if he or others get too pushy. This is gonna be a long talk between them but it's needed.]
Good bye, Sans.
[He ends the connection. He hangs up. Then he gets to work.]
+1 to ZEZPQB BT FRESMNF IZDVZ BEFVQN GC NBVBW
no subject
[He feels something like dread. Like something terrible is about to happen, and there's not a damn thing he can do to stop it.]
[It's a familiar feeling.]
no, wait. don't go. metta, wait--
[Too late.]
[He's always too late.]