Mettaton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mttbrandlegs) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2016-08-30 10:06 pm
mttbrandlegs) wrote in thisavrou_log2016-08-30 10:06 pm
Entry tags:
But There Were Plans...
Who: Mettaton and OPEN
When: forward-dated to September 1st
Where: Various locations
What: Mettaton's found out that Papyrus is gone. He doesn't take it well.
Warnings: Sadness? Violence against walls?
Optional read of the day prior + realizing Pap is actually MIA
A. Something Lost
Mettaton's first reaction to finding out that Papyrus is no longer on the ship is pretty much par for the course given his personality. Rather than accept it as truth, he chooses to push that inevitability away.
He tells himself the MID must be malfunctioning and without another thought, he leaves his room and begins looking for the tall skeleton. He can be found in various places in the ship, asking anyone who cares to listen to him whether they've seen Papyrus. Someone has to have seen the guy, he's the Morale Officer and he just came out of cryo. Not only that, but Papyrus can't exactly hide, he's pretty tall!
The longer his search goes on, the more frantic Mettaton seems to get. At times, he can even be found furiously texting on his MID and unfortunately not looking where he's going, while also walking at a brisk pace.
B. Regret
Eventually, there isn't any way to deny it anymore. Mettaton knows that Papyrus isn't on the Moira any longer. And when he finally comes to that conclusion, Mettaton's reaction is initially very violent, and he punches a wall with enough force to nearly disable his already-malfunctioning arm. It's also enough force to leave a dent. He finds himself breathing erratically despite himself, and he uses the wall for support as he attempts to gather his thoughts and push his anger away.
Ultimately, he's unsuccessful in calming himself down and just disappears into the room adjacent to the sizable dent he's made in the wall. It's not occupied, and is actually pretty small. Maybe it was a storage room at some point.
Good. He can be alone. He's not ready to go back to his room, even though he'd left a plate of spaghetti on his bed which was likely confusing his roommates and/or irritating them.
Mettaton doesn't want to go back to his room. He doesn't wan't to work, or do anything that would mean acknowledgment of losing someone he cared about deeply and moving on from it. He...he couldn't bring himself to do that.
Things had been getting better. He'd cried with Asriel and begun to heal--just barely--from his ordeal in the Runoff. It didn't matter anymore though. Now he was back to square one.
Should anyone pass by the room he's in, there's a chance that they'll hear one of a handful of things:
Frustrated mumbling, downright yelling, crying...or eventually, the static rhythm of metal clanging on metal.
The last event is easily explained, as by late night, Mettaton's just taken to thumping his head on the wall out of sheer frustration. It doesn't hurt. It's just something to focus on.
C. Wildcard
[Got an idea for having your character happen upon Mettaton as he moves through the stages of grief in his ever-so-dramatic fashion? Want to see him fall out of his robo-body and cry for real as a small, grieving pink ghost?
The sky's the limit! Just PM me or hit me up on![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
Grimmkitty.]
When: forward-dated to September 1st
Where: Various locations
What: Mettaton's found out that Papyrus is gone. He doesn't take it well.
Warnings: Sadness? Violence against walls?
Optional read of the day prior + realizing Pap is actually MIA
A. Something Lost
Mettaton's first reaction to finding out that Papyrus is no longer on the ship is pretty much par for the course given his personality. Rather than accept it as truth, he chooses to push that inevitability away.
He tells himself the MID must be malfunctioning and without another thought, he leaves his room and begins looking for the tall skeleton. He can be found in various places in the ship, asking anyone who cares to listen to him whether they've seen Papyrus. Someone has to have seen the guy, he's the Morale Officer and he just came out of cryo. Not only that, but Papyrus can't exactly hide, he's pretty tall!
The longer his search goes on, the more frantic Mettaton seems to get. At times, he can even be found furiously texting on his MID and unfortunately not looking where he's going, while also walking at a brisk pace.
B. Regret
Eventually, there isn't any way to deny it anymore. Mettaton knows that Papyrus isn't on the Moira any longer. And when he finally comes to that conclusion, Mettaton's reaction is initially very violent, and he punches a wall with enough force to nearly disable his already-malfunctioning arm. It's also enough force to leave a dent. He finds himself breathing erratically despite himself, and he uses the wall for support as he attempts to gather his thoughts and push his anger away.
Ultimately, he's unsuccessful in calming himself down and just disappears into the room adjacent to the sizable dent he's made in the wall. It's not occupied, and is actually pretty small. Maybe it was a storage room at some point.
Good. He can be alone. He's not ready to go back to his room, even though he'd left a plate of spaghetti on his bed which was likely confusing his roommates and/or irritating them.
Mettaton doesn't want to go back to his room. He doesn't wan't to work, or do anything that would mean acknowledgment of losing someone he cared about deeply and moving on from it. He...he couldn't bring himself to do that.
Things had been getting better. He'd cried with Asriel and begun to heal--just barely--from his ordeal in the Runoff. It didn't matter anymore though. Now he was back to square one.
Should anyone pass by the room he's in, there's a chance that they'll hear one of a handful of things:
Frustrated mumbling, downright yelling, crying...or eventually, the static rhythm of metal clanging on metal.
The last event is easily explained, as by late night, Mettaton's just taken to thumping his head on the wall out of sheer frustration. It doesn't hurt. It's just something to focus on.
C. Wildcard
[Got an idea for having your character happen upon Mettaton as he moves through the stages of grief in his ever-so-dramatic fashion? Want to see him fall out of his robo-body and cry for real as a small, grieving pink ghost?
The sky's the limit! Just PM me or hit me up on
IT'S MORE LIKELY THAN YOU THINK
Kaworu doesn't say anything. He just stares at Mettaton--a deep, unblinking stare. And then, slowly, he begins to walk towards the robot.
It's unhurried. It would appear calm but for the tension in his arms and shoulders, the intensity of his stare.
He stops a a couple feet away. His mouth is turned down into an uncommon shape. His gaze hasn't broken.
"Even I have feelings."
no subject
Any venom that might have been meant for those words doesn't come across. Mettaton doesn't have the effort in him to be a bastard. At least not on purpose.
He sighs, uncurling himself and looking as if he's 2 minutes from shutting down. Kaworu's seen that expression before, of course. But it's not for the same reason this time, not when he's running 100%.
"Look. I'm not in the mood to get philosophical. I've had a really bad day. So if you're curious about something, be brief."
no subject
Kaworu's voice is... quiet. Even if his stare is still strong.
It's a difficult thing to say. A strange thing to say. To tell someone he understands. Even if it's just a feeling--to have the same feeling as someone else. As if such a thing were even possible. Is it?
"The feeling of loving someone. And wanting them to love you back. It's painful, but it can also bring you joy." Because there is always the hope that your feelings will be returned. Or accepted. Or even just--
"But losing that person is also painful."
Kaworu is trying, with some difficulty, to put words to something he has been struggling with for six months. A strange feeling, wet and sick and heavy. Something that scrapes the raw inside of the heart.
Loss?
Or being lost? They're the same, aren't they? To feel lost... and to feel you have lost something... they must be the same. Because it hurts.
no subject
The look on his face...it's not sympathetic, but it's at least a little bit curious.
"You had someone you cared about like that? You never seemed the sort, you don't even have the sympathy I'd feel was a requirement.
I mean...wait. No..."
He shook his head. God, that's not the right thing to say.
"I apologize. What I mean is...since when? Who is that important to you?"
Please, Kaworu. Give him a distraction.
no subject
"Of course not. Why would I, if I don't feel that way about you?" He cares about Shinji's feelings--especially Shinji's feelings regarding him--because of the way Shinji makes him feel. Mettaton is just another person. "But it's because I have those feelings that..." he stops, trails off.
"... we are separated by the Ingrees. He's never been on the Moira. So I must wait, every day, for the Ingress to be fixed."
no subject
Not that it's dependable. Whatever it brings, it can take away."
Mettaton doesn't say anything about Kaworu's explanation for why he had no sympathy for others. It wasn't a very good excuse, but the robot didn't feel like arguing, as he'd already said.
"I wish the Ingress would take me away from here. It wouldn't fix anything, naturally, but I would have another chance anyway."
He smiles hollowly, then goes back to the subject Kaworu had brought up to begin with.
"So. What is his name?"
no subject
If the Ingress could bring Shinji to him... what would happen, if he had the chance to meet Shinji in a place like this? A new setting. A different fate.
It's not his choice to make.
Kaworu's hesitation is not calculated, but instinctive. A feeling.
The look on his face is confused and troubled.
"I thought we were talking about you."
Saying Shinji's name out loud... he doesn't want to. Saying it like that, without him here... might not be painful, but...
He can tell it won't feel good.
no subject
As if Kaworu would care. Did he ever really take interest past the academic?
"But if you do not wish to talk about your important person, you needn't do so. It's hard, right?"
He feels as if his soul might extinguish right then and there, just saying that.
It's hard, right? Knowing that Papyrus is gone this time. He may never be back. That's at the discretion of the Ingress, isn't it?
"Depending on that stupid portal will bring nothing but upset," he murmurs, mostly to himself.
no subject
'...it's hard, right?'
He's never had anyone anticipate his feelings before. He's never had anyone understand his feelings, or even that he has them. It's a cold moment for him. And it does hurt. It hurts to talk about it. What he's missing.
All the expressions he usually wears--all the smiles, or the amicable indifference, or the uncertainty--they're gone. So is the weird, ambivalent look from before. He just... looks unsatisfied. Not bitter yet, but...
"...that's what it's like... wanting someone. Or something. It's never a good feeling, is it?" Looking forward to something... is different from wanting it. So what's the point? What's the point to feeling like this at all?
He used to wonder that. Now, though... he knows exactly what the point is. Because being loved means more than just not being in pain. It's a kind of happiness that he could never have anticipated life could contain. It's feeling alive, and knowing you mattered, even after you're no longer alive. It's making a lasting impression on even one other person. But this, the other side of love--
It's enough to make you prefer being dead.
"That stupid portal... is all I have."
But he's not the only one. First it was Frisk. And now Mettaton, too... they all have nothing but the Ingress now. The Ingress, and the suffering of waiting for its mercy. But even that is better than the alternative.
It's enough, to have been loved once. If that's all he'll get... even that is a gift. More precious to him than merely living could have ever been.
But when it comes to this waiting, and the Ingress... it's the same kind of suffering all over again. Pointless, desolate, soul-leeching misery.
He is silent another moment.
Then, because he sometimes wishes someone would say it to him:
"I'm sorry."
no subject
His usual tone of condescension wasn't present and...Mettaton doesn't know what to do. He had never believed he could relate to this guy, this emotionless, shitty not-human who looked like a human.
Maybe it's because he's already upset, or maybe it's because he never expected such a thing to leave Kaworu's lips. Hell, it could have been a mix of both. But either way, Mettaton shifts, slowly pushing himself to his feet. He moves like he's walking through a wall of water, but at least he's moving at all.
Once he's facing the young man, he simply looks at him. The expression he wears isn't quite pity. Just raw regret. For everything.
"It isn't a good feeling," he says quietly. Before either of them could really process it, he's hugging Kaworu. Selfish or not, he's doing this. It's weird to derive comfort from someone you usually held in contempt, but...Kaworu seemed to be able to understand.
That means something to Mettaton.
"I am sorry for how I addressed you when you came in. It was rude."
God help them if MTT ever finds out what this comparable to in Kaworu's head
All of that, and Mettaton's 'action' is still a surprise.
He stands stock-still, totally unresponsive at first save for gradually widened eyes. As he begins to actually grasp what is being done to him, he realises--
This is a... hug?
......but...
Why?
There must have been some sort of miscommunication. What did he say wrong?
This feeling of someone else's arms wrapped around his body, of heated metal against his face and stomach, cold he can feel through his uniform encircling his shoulders and pressing against his ribs...
It's nothing like Frisk's tiny arms around his midsection, or the vast, all-encompassing weight of Unit 01's hand. But it's real. It's happening.
Why?
Why?
He doesn't understand at all.
He closes his eyes against Mettaton's body, feeling the hard edge of a dial pressing against his scalp. Is this the same thing? The feeling of being held not by Mettaton, with his long, pliable arms of metal, but by a hand. One so large that even one finger was longer than his entire body. One with so much power that it was the vessel of humanity's hopes and dreams.
His own hands encircling the body of a starving white kitten, so thin he can feel its ribs through its skin, the grit in its dirty, scruffy pelt. He can feel its pulse still strong under his thumbs as he presses his fingers against its throat, his hands circling its neck.
Mettaton...
... yes. He understands. This feeling... he understands it. It's loneliness and yearning and deep, soul-leeching pain.
And Kaworu finally, suddenly hugs Mettaton back, hugs almost fiercely--a clumsy, graceless hug, embracing the robot like he means it; he's like a child, or just a lonely, desperate human being, wrapping his arms around the robot tightly despite the awkward difference in height. He knows this hug isn't really for his comfort, but Mettaton's. Because Mettaton is suffering, and Kaworu can grant him a form of mercy.
1/3 oh noooooo
For some reason, there's something really emotionally compromising about the fact that Kaworu knows what he's feeling and shares his pain so thoroughly that he isn't saying things that would make Mettaton hurt worse. He wasn't teasingly mentioning how humans--Lilim, Frisk had said--behaved so irrationally.
Mettaton can feel sadness, relief in solidarity, and then the crushing weight of despair and his unyielding need to express himself, and as that all overcomes him, his arms slacken and the whirring that means he's still actively powered by his core begins to die down.
2/3
He pulls away from Kaworu, perhaps a bit forcefully, but not because he didn't want to hug him.
Instead, his body collapsed once he was clear of Kaworu, leaving nothing but a floating, heart-shaped glow--Mettaton's core, which had phased out of its container. But...then the shape begins to blossom into something larger, more transparent...the form of a silly, stereotypical ghost.
3/3
"I'm--this--oh God...I really am falling to pieces," he says, his voice so uncomfortably feminine he can hardly bear it, but he's starting to get used to it again. This keeps happening to him after all, ever since he died.
Ever since he lost hold of his corporeality, and became unable to unify with his body permanently again.
To his benefit, or perhaps detriment in this case, Mettaton can cry. And boy is he. The ghost's eye is wet with ectoplasmic pink tears.
no subject
He lets go only after a short delay when Mettaton jerks unexpectedly away from him, releasing the robot all at once in half-confusion.
Half confusion that becomes full confusion when Mettaton crumples, seven foot metal body collapsing to the floor with all the grace and noise of a demolished building.
And out of it emerges...
A...
... jelly?
A... a crying... jelly?!
"What--"
Kaworu is so alarmed and disoriented that even he trips on his words, red eyes blinking rapidly as he tries to... find something around the scene that would produce a little more sense or explanation. There is none.
"What's happening?"
no subject
Kaworu likely hadn't paid any mind to him the day he'd gotten high and told the whole ship he was a ghost and that he was...that he was dating Papyrus...
Haha. Why would he? Why would he have any reason to care about that?
...Mettaton can't stop himself from crying, this is exactly what he would be doing if he could cry from his robot body. It's what he'd felt all day, spilling forth like hot, liquid despair.
"I started as a ghost, not a robot. E...eh.
--Kaworu. Do you know what a ghost monster is?"
Just because he can't stop crying doesn't mean he can't pretend he's not. That's what he'd been doing for hours anyway. Not necessarily pretending, but crying inside, without the ability to shed tears. Now he couldn't stop them, even if he tried his hardest.
no subject
Kaworu watches Mettaton's ectoplasmic weeping with something between concern and intense fascination. But he doebn't say much. He's just... staring. He's so benumbed from the whiplash and the shock of his own suddenly-severed feelings that he doesn't really have a good reaction to this development. Or maybe he's just incapable of reacting with anything other than this--a blank, vaguely baffled feeling.
no subject
He can't be mad at Frisk for telling his secret unless he planned to ask them when they had spilled it. That was a question for another time though.
"Would you like to know why this happened? I don't honestly understand you, or whether you are curious enough. But you look confused, so..."
So he can explain. Besides which, it will provide a distraction for him, when he's so emotional. Again. He always does this to Kaworu, doesn't he..?
no subject
Is he curious? He doesn't know if he is or not. He is confused, though. He tends to be less curious about this kind of thing, but monsters are such a different kind of being... he still doesn't know what they are, does he? And Mettaton is offering...
He waits for Mettaton to elaborate.
no subject
He lets out a soft sigh, then begins his explanation.
"I am a ghost monster. That much has become obvious. Unlike the human ideas for how ghosts work, I am not interested in causing trouble, and I am not dead in the conventional sense. But I am intangible.
...Most ghosts eventually feel a pull towards being corporeal. I was a bit of a late bloomer into the family, but that's mostly because I didn't want to possess any old ratty dummy. It...it had to be right. Alphys helped me make it right. The body you see is me as I wished to be.
Not a tiny, not-very-important ghost that sounds...sounds like a little girl."
At this point, Mettaton actually shows some of his spark. He hasn't forgotten that he's sad or why, but this is...important to him to let Kaworu know.
"I'm a robot now!! I'm a handsome robot with a beautiful voice and body and that is who I am!!!"
But...just as quickly as the enthusiasm rose, he dialed it back. Not intentionally, but because the next part is not going to be a happy part.
"It's not so simple, of course. We ghosts can possess a form, but we aren't able to be affected by things until...um. Until after we feel a very strong, unifying emotion. Before that point, we are just possessing a shell and able to leave it if we so choose. That's not a life. It's not one worth living. You can't live if you aren't really fully corporeal, after all.
My happiest time was...it was when I fought Frisk and...they flipped my switch. As I transformed into this body--" Mettaton casts a glance at his lifeless robot form, "--I became so happy, because it was what I had always wanted, and...I became corporeal. I became that body. It was me.
It was to Frisk's benefit; they were able to stop me from hurting them. I'm glad. I should not have ever tried. But you see...I owe them quite a lot. I don't believe I've ever told them that...haha."
no subject
That's all.
He listens.
And he follows the explanation, at least insamuch as he understands the words and concepts and events described well enough to get by. Ghost monsters are a kind of being that are incomplete without a physical vessel.
But... how? He doesn't understand. What does this have to do with Mettaton's strange, jelly-like form now? Is he saying that something has made him incomplete....?
.....
Ah.
no subject
"Ah, so anyway...the reason I am like this now is because I died here. I died on the ship and came back as a ghost, the way I used to be.
So I have to go through all those steps again."
He looks down, reaching a nubby "hand" up to rub at his eye.
"I don't..know if I can be happy enough again to fuse with my body like I had been. There's nothing happy about this place, and nothing to instill that level of catharsis in me."
Unless he could be so absolutely heartbroken that it counted as a powerful emotion, in which case he just had to lose some more friends right?
The thought makes him sob. It's not as if it's something he has the capacity to be ashamed of anymore, or at least right now. So openly wept like a child...because that's what he felt like...a child whose best friend had been ripped away from them. It's awful...his entire being aches. Is this what heartache feels like?