Mettaton~! ♥ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mettatonvevo) wrote2016-05-30 02:20 am
mettatonvevo) wrote2016-05-30 02:20 am[IC INBOX]
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mettatonvevo) wrote2016-05-30 02:20 am
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[He was taken by surprised, taken in by Sans's words and now he has to cover. Mirrorton's hand stays on his. It's nice. It feels nice.]
I didn't mean to imply that at all. I do not like the idea that he thinks he owns me when that couldn't be farther from the truth.
[And Sans mentions this "his" thing again and Mettaton feels a twist somewhere inside of him. Mirrorton's grip tightens just a little. ...It doesn't feel quite as nice as it did before.]
I mean, to be fair, he is me, just a mirror version.
[He's as real as him. He won't say otherwise. It isn't fair to his friend.
He squirms a little as Sans continues. Frisk... yes they are like that, aren't they? Taking people's words and using it to shred their own heart to pieces. So does Alphys. And Napstablook takes the cake in that department. Then Sans mentions Chara and Mettaton speaks.]
They may seem sturdier in that aspect, but they do it too. They take all the worst things people say and use it as an excuse to demonize themselves. The poor sweetling.
[Chara... he misses them. He doesn't talk to them nearly enough. His fingers relax in his mirror's hand, starting to slip away.]
I suppose you have a point. But as I said, my mirror isn't that dangerous. [He's not that bad.] He may speak oddly here and there but really Sans, you're getting worried over nothing.
[He smiles a little gently. It's sweet that Sans is worrying about him. It makes his soul swell a little with a feeling he doesn't want to think on as he tries to reply in a way that won't alarm him more.
The mirror grabs and pulls Mettaton's hand back into his. His fingers clench over the back of Mettaton's hand, gripping tightly into the metal. Mettaton's fingers are flat against the glass and he sees his own wide eyes in the reflection. He hadn't noticed he was starting to let go.]
Sans...
[He pauses again, thinking.]
I think you're being paranoid. I know mirrors make you nervous, but this is nothing to fear. He's just a bit strange, as all mirrors are. It's sweet of you to worry. You've always been so sweet.
[He winces when he says that. He shouldn't have said that. Not with his mirror right there. He's showing weakness. He looks to the writing unraveling itself across the glass again.
Mettaton. End this.]
Now, I apologize, but I must get going. I have so many things to do today.
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[That's definitely the vibe he's getting here, and it still doesn't make any sense. The more he thinks about it, the less sense it makes.]
no. he's not.
[He sounds quite firm about this, and for a moment his eyelights meet his reflection's in the mirror. He turns away.]
just because he's a version of you doesn't make him you. there's infinite versions of any given person--but no two are exactly alike. and he couldn't be more different from you. you're nothing like him. i mean, that's what being a mirror means--being the opposite of someone.
[How could Mettaton lump himself in with that guy? Mettaton can be vicious with his words, but he doesn't verbally rip people to shreds the way Mirrorton tries to.]
[Sans quiets a little at the mention of Chara. He sighs.]
yeah. yeah, i know they do. they just...do it differently from frisk.
[He goes quiet again. He's getting worried over nothing. He's paranoid.]
[Mirrors make him nervous.]
[He's so sweet, and Sans knows Mettaton means it as some kind of compliment, because he knows Mettaton well enough by now. Any other time he'd argue the point, say that sweet wouldn't be the first word that comes to mind.]
[But right now it just sounds like dismissal. Because Mettaton could just as easily have said funny. Because it's Sans, it's just Sans making a joke.]
you're not listening.
[He must have tried to warn people early on. He must have, because he remembers having a bit more energy back then--"back then," even though it was technically only a few days ago. It would have made sense to try and warn people, and no one would have believed him. No one would believe that this nice, smiling flower could be some kind of threat. No one would believe that a small, human child could single-handedly destroy an entire species. That they had done it before and would do it again.]
[It's just a joke. A very bad one. Because Sans doesn't get serious or worried for real. He doesn't try, he doesn't make an effort. He tells jokes. He sells water sausages posing as hotdogs. He was never a scientist, he was never smart, he was never anything at all but the lazy, funny, worthless little guy who was good for a laugh and nothing else.]
[It got to the point where he was fine with it. He gave up on trying to warn people really quick. Why even try? Even when they did believe him, there would just be a Reset and it would all start over again. So why bother?]
[Besides, maybe Mettaton is right. Maybe he's just being paranoid.]
[Maybe mirrors just make him nervous.]
yeah. just a bit strange. [He pauses a beat.] thought the same thing about papyrus's mirror at first.
[And then the glass turned around, and Sans learned to be afraid of his own brother.]
wait, metta--don't just--don't go yet. maybe i am just being paranoid, but just...don't just brush this off like that, okay?
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But that's wrong, isn't it? He shouldn't be happy to hear he's not like him. Relief shouldn't be flooding his soul at the thought. No, it's a compliment to be like his mirror. It's a good thing. They're both selfish and cruel but talented stars and they own that designation. They're not nice. And that's fine.]
I. I mean. That's. One way to look at it.
[His head feels a little muddied right now. Starting to mix things up. But he can focus on Chara. Yes. They make sense.]
Both of those kids need so much. They deserve so much better than they got. So much more than they continue to get.
[He doesn't know why he's saying this now. Especially in front of his mirror but he wants to say it. He almost feels like he needs to say it, like caring for them is more than just caring for them but that's silly. It's silly. He's being silly and weak.]
Sans, I am listening. Just because I don't agree doesn't mean I am not listening entirely.
[His mirror is good. He can be rude and mean and strange but he's good. He's good because he takes care of Mettaton. He supports him. Despite being separated from him, his mirror does his best to make sure he never leaves Mettaton's side and he's grateful. Yes. Grateful.
...Papyrus's mirror. Right. That was when Sans...
The hand tugs, insistent. Right. Gotta go.]
Mm. Fine. I'll try to pay attention to this but really it's a waste of time.
[A waste of time. A waste of space. A waste of energy. There's nothing to worry about Sans. Mettaton tentatively closes his hand over his mirror's again.
Nothing to worry about at all.]
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[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?
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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
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[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.]