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Breakout and Beyond: September Plot Log

Who: Everyone
When: September 9th-23rd
Where: Kauto
What: Escape from Dino Jail and taking the fight to the Savrii
Warnings: Probable violence and mental manipulation. Label your content.

the escape

Over the last few days—or weeks, for many—a number of preparations have been made. Some gathered resources. Others fashioned weapons or small bombs. A few pored over the schematics Mother provided, looking for a weakness in the field generator, while others took her offer of assistance more directly. Whether with information or training, tools or trades or promises, everyone has had a part to play. And on September 9, all of that comes to fruition.

It starts at the gate. Through careful observation of the supply groups, one team of insurgents has correctly identified when the gate will open: and prepared their very own dinosaur-mounted EMP. With the controls damaged and the gate locked open, the Savrii guards are met with a host of individuals armed with shock-sticks, home-made bombs, and one improvised laser—many of whom appear oddly immune to the pacifying effect of the intermediary present.

As terrifying as this proves to their morale, it seems possible the Savrii could turn the battle their way. They have superior weaponry. They have a single chokepoint to defend. They can and will call for backup as soon as the danger becomes clear. Still, there's one factor they couldn't have anticipated. One vulnerability of the dome field, pulled from the schematics by the more technically minded captives who spent time on the endeavor. This place wasn't a punishment, after all. The Savrii didn't want to inflict harm. Merely contain these dangerous people, for their own good. And so, the force field has a safety feature built in.

It decreases power, just slightly, in proportion with the biomass that comes in contact.

While the guards at the gate are busy with their fight, a brilliantly colored array of hazards break free from the forest grounds. Perhaps you're riding one of your new friends. Perhaps you're dangling dino-catnip just in front. It's possible, of course, that your dinosaur is motivated without help—possibly by the array of prey animals running in front of it. Regardless of the motives and the methods, when several hundred tons of dinosaur make contact with that wall?

The force field shatters.

Charge.

A World of Peace

The fact (and methods) of the "newcomers'" escape puts an end to any pleas for peaceful resolution. Within the hour, Thisavrou is placed under a state of emergency: transport locked down, all responders called in, and every combat force their peaceful worlds can gather called to defend against this menace. The Ingress Complex itself is sealed off entirely: a full-strength Artifixx force field raised to deflect (or destroy) incoming ships. Not that the storms outside the Ingress—or the cracks they've begun carving in the sky—look easy to navigate for even the best trained of pilots.

While those looking to fulfill their promise to Mother will need to find a way offworld eventually, events on Kauto are likely to keep Thisavrou’s Most Wanted busy for some time. The Savrii are in self-defense mode, ready to protect their world against those who refuse their gift of peace. Whether looking for a fight or trying to find shelter, travelers are most likely to encounter these groups as their hunters:

Security. These Savrii have been taken from their usual work in Ingress Security or similar professions. More like police than soldiers, they are still armed and formidable. Each small squad will almost always be accompanied by a single intermediary, capable of both detecting nearby targets and enforcing the non-violence field on those who did not accept Mother's link. These groups may try to talk characters into surrender and prefer non-lethal force at first. But as the days go by, they are likely to recognize this is futile and be willing to take ruthless measures.
Off-World Kill Teams. Those who traversed the wreckage of the true Midway hub, or participated in the extinction of Thiri have met these Savrii before. The ones who take dangerous away missions and purge worlds that have misused Ingress technology, these groups are versatile and ruthless. While less likely to be accompanied by an intermediary, they are more likely to have powers and advanced weaponry of their own. Regardless, they are specialists in their fields and fully willing to kill innocents for the greater good. Their skillsets range from fighters to hackers to assassins and more.
Civilians. The majority of civilian Savrii are more likely to hide than to fight, but among their number are non-professional fighters who are more than willing to form amateur groups or go out alone to take down the dangerous invaders. Their mindset may center on protecting their homes or taking revenge for past encounters such as the Shadows. While the weakest of the groups, they're still capable of doing damage. However, not all civilians are hostile or afraid; those who had good relationships with their newer neighbors or who were personally aided may show sympathy. This could come in the form of food, supplies, or temporary shelter, though they won't stand directly against the authorities of Thisavrou.

Regardless of whether fugitives are are caught unaware or go out looking for trouble, one thing is certain: they are likely to do better if they work together. While Mother's link isn't the only method with which to fight the intermediaries, groups without at least one immune person may find themselves put down with ease. At the same time, even those who can resist intermediary manipulation may be overwhelmed by force.

Still, death is rarely the end on Thisavrou, and even now, the technology that allows for resurgence remains in your hosts' possession. Those killed fighting the Savrii may be seen again, and there is always the chance to rescue those who are captured. But would the reunions be happy ones?

Points of Interest

Where to go? What to do? Even without leaving Kauto, there's a literal world of possibilities. Still, the conflict at hand won't go away, and some of your peers have been preparing for it for some time. Between Mother's request, your own needs, and data gleaned from a Trojan implanted in the Savrii's systems, a few objectives might present themselves. And whether you're hunting, hiding, or helping, there are a few places you might want to keep in mind.

Home
As soon as characters were unknowingly brought into the Midway Hub simulation, Savrii agents were dispatched to enter homes and search them for any items of potential danger. Mundane possessions will still be there, including pac-discs for those who had them. Settling down for a night at home is likely to get people caught, but now is a great time to pack anything travelers want to keep. However, to find weapons and items taken during the simulation...
Reclamation Depot
Established just one month ago, this unremarkable complex is buried in the maze-like streets of Region Five. Rumors describe it as a research site: somewhere to examine hazardous materials and see how they could be turned to the societal good. You might better know it as an impound center. Specifically, where they put your weapons after throwing you into "detainment".

Fortunately, research efforts haven't gotten far. Less fortunately? This is the first place all those reinforcements go. The facility contains a set of laboratories aboveground and a storage complex underneath, as well as an adjoining kennel for containing pets. Your companions won't have been harmed, but you can bet the Savrii will harm you trying to get to them.
Network Hub
The data recovered from the Trojan indicates one very important fact: that all of your data has been monitored from day one. Those interested in safeguarding their communications (or disrupting the Savrii's) may wish to make a certain site in Region One a priority visit. A towering skyscraper over a hundred stories in height, the communications tower that controls the TAB network is a masterpiece of engineering. It's also, predictably, guarded. Still, the amount of reinforcements on this site will vary strongly depending on how openly—or how literally—you broadcast an attack.
Mediation Centers
Simple buildings designed for a sense of comfort and peace, these structures can be found in all residential centers of Thisavrou. They serve as the workplaces of the intermediaries, the so-called glue that binds Thisavrou together—or, the mind-controlling oligarchs, if your new acquaintance is to be believed.

Under the current crisis? They're a little understaffed. Still, if you're looking for the intermediaries, this is a better place than most to check. Just don't walk inside alone, or your friends might end up looking for you.
Sewers
With so many forces acting against them, where can travelers find shelter where they can rest, regroup and plan? A base of sorts may be found in the sewers where a team once sought the contaminant. With access to much of urban Kauto, enough distance from the surface to go undetected by intermediaries, and a few larger spaces to provide some breathing room, the sewers may not be a pleasant sanctuary, but they may be the place most able to give characters more than a moment's rest.

A Dinoriffic Note: While characters may keep their dinosaurs with them after the breakout, now that their prehistoric pals have reached adulthood at an artificially fast rate, they will find that dinosaurs are also designed to wean off dependence on their handler, and over these weeks, character-dinosaur pairings will grow farther apart. Although the dinosaurs will always have a softer spot for those who were around during their adolescent days, alas, these partnerships are not destined to be permanent.

[OOC: Please check out this OOC post for more information on character options and objectives! Additionally, this is the last chance for free exploration of the current setting, as events will push toward the arc climax after this log. If there is anything you OOCly want your character to have or do, please take advantage!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Mettaton's made plenty of mistakes in his life. Continuing to engage in conversation with Chara isn't even close to being one of the worst. He knows how this could turn out, and yet he wants to engage them. They are, after all, from the same world he was--well, perhaps not exactly the same one.

He daren't assume.

The point is...he's not going to give up, no matter the circumstances. He's already resolved himself in that, and what the shadow had said to him actually made him more stubborn.

"I'm not surprised at all to hear it. The Savrii don't have much respect for us, do they?" he says scathingly. "At the very least, they didn't throw all of our things away."

He might have had a problem if he couldn't find Papyrus' scarf. A very large problem.

"If you need help acquiring your weapons again," and god does he almost regret saying this, "I'm happy to assist. Judging from the state of things, you may need them."

The glance he receives brings new meaning to the term "withering."

"No," says Chara, drawing the word out several syllables past its termination. "I would not say that any race that sinks to psychic manipulation and mass imprisonment to enforce their bidding factors respect into the equation whatsoever."

But that's just, like, their opinion, or whatever. Plainly, understatement is only fun or acceptable when they do it.

Or it could be something else entirely. It matters very little in the end, does it not? He even offers to assist in recovering their weaponry - never mind his own death at their hands (their hands?), or the death of those he holds dear. There's a route in which they draw close, after all - ever closer to the End. And there's a panicked plea that they stop making that face, that they get away from him, stop ACTing like the freak they are!

One does not need knives to hurt. They have learned that lesson rather well. They will hurt those nearest to them, regardless of methodology.

They may as well be efficient about it.

"Some would call that a fool's errand." There it is - a trace of the smile they so prefer. "Nonetheless, I would be happy to accept."

For his part, Mettaton doesn't seem to put much stock in their expression. He's started to learn that Chara, for all their talk of consequences, responsibilities, circumstances and the like...didn't much like it when someone did anything that could seem like mimicry of their habits, good or bad.

Because there could only be one of them, he supposes. He doesn't actually know, or wish to think too hard on it. What matters is that from this point, they're going to work together. Mettaton is going to make an attempt, and although Chara would likely find it foolish...he's tired of being bitter.

"One fool's errand is another's diversion," he comments blithely, flipping an end of the newly-recovered scarf over his right shoulder before placing his hands on his hips. "If you've a plan, I'll give you my support."

God knows he doesn't have a plan. That smile though...he'll never quite get over it. It's so disorienting.

But no.

He has to do this. He can't keep holding such anger against them, lest he end up in a position that would only lead to a loss of who he really was; hell, he was already probably too far gone as it was. The violence in which he took part...it was becoming excessive. That isn't how he wanted to be remembered; as a human's idea of a monster. He couldn't let it continue.

"It is the least I can do," he added, "after what I did."

Dying. They'd asked him not to die, and he'd done it anyway. How pitiful.

Yes, right. Plans. They're so very good at those, didn't you know? Like that one plan, where they ate a flower and died and then utterly failed to bring about any of their intended goals and, in fact, ended up killing the crown prince of the Underground, destroying a marriage overnight, and dissolving a kingdom into war and ruin! Or there was that other plan, the one that worked out so well, where they hijacked the Ingress and got Shepard imprisoned by mental conditioners for weeks on end! How about that other other plan, the one that wasn't really theirs but was spoiled by their touch nonetheless when it flooded the entirety of the planet with a dense and impenetrable fog?

They've got such a good track record with plans. Especially those involving intermediaries. Truly, nothing can go wrong here. Truly, nothing will.

Ever.

"You'll have to be more specific," says Chara, because Chara is nothing if not persistent in their callous refusal to accept an apology where it is not even merited. "I'm afraid in the long list of your transgressions, very little stands out."

Kind of like how they are. Ha ha.

"Cute," Mettaton says, rolling his eye. He certainly can't be blamed for a little bit of sarcasm. After all, these two just couldn't exist without a little bit of caustic nature between them. "The whole dying thing, darling. You didn't let me off that one, did you?"

Though if he really cared past bringing it up...he wasn't showing it. IN fact, he's surprisingly blase about everything, including this conversation, for someone who usually expressed himself openly, whether that be through anger, violence, or just plain sassy attitude.

Ha.

Well, no matter. It certainly can't be important.

"That's not the main topic here though. Your belongings are."

"I never let anyone off for dying." Including themself, as it happens.

Alarmingly, he proves that he is indeed capable of talking about subjects other than himself and his own completely incomprehensible, depthless self-loathing that they obviously could never begin to broach or understand, only make worse in their own horrifying way! What a shocker.

"Your death may very well become a main topic. I hear there are ever so many kill squads frequenting the streets, these days." Looks like the Savrii have finally sunk to lethal force. Fancy that.

"I'm not going to die here, not to a group of hypocrites using the general population to do that which they imprisoned us for. So let them come if they like. I'll send them on their way."

Surprisingly, it doesn't sound all that threatening on his part. In order to seem threatening, one would need to feel as if there's a challenge at all. Mettaton knows by this point that there isn't, and even further down, deep in the darkest parts of his SOUL, he also knows that he can attempt to avoid the Savrii as long as he wants in order to preserve their lives.

But it'll all end the same. Death. Murder. Perpetuating hatred.

Well, that's what they get for taking that which doesn't belong to them, he supposes.

No dying to the hands of a group of hypocrites - just to the hands of one child. Sounds like business as usual.

"That sounds like a predictably bad choice. Who am I to contest such a thing?" They're the walking, talking poster child for bad choices, after all. Why FIGHT it - aside from the fact that they FIGHT just about everything they can, purely on principle.

They open one hand, sweeping it across their chest with an exaggerated flourish.

"After you."

Mettaton can't help a brief scoff. Oh, so they really are giving him the reins then, how quaint. He takes the lead easily enough. What with all the information that had circulated between them and that strange..."Mother" person, it's not hard to connect the dots as to where they're going.

The interesting part will be getting there, since the Savrii are hardly interested in mercy.

No MERCY for the wicked, right?

"Gladly," he responds smoothly. He's not going to fight though. Not until he has to. At least, that's what he's going to tell himself for now as he leads the way towards the path of bloodshed. He doesn't wonder whether Chara will follow; this was their little quest of course.

"It has been a while since our last collaboration, hasn't it?"

"That's a funny thing to call it; as I recall, you were less of a facilitator and more of a participant."

It was their seizing of the Ingress that led everything to this point, was it not? The chaos, the unrest, the rumbling - start with Shepard's detainment, escalating with Lavellan's interference and the breaking of the Ingress that followed, the contaminant that the Soldier unleashed upon Kauto at large.

But, hey. Surely they can claim the credit for some of this mess. They did dissolve a marriage overnight, resulting in the re-igniting of a longstanding interspecies war!

"I never said that I facilitated anything. However, I'm certain I dispensed some harsh punishment all on my own. For that, I can take full responsibility, whether you gave me the option or not."

They might like that; he's taking credit for a terrible thing that he did. Don't they like it when people don't try to run from the consequences of their actions? They never let him run from his.

"I was happy to participate regardless. Those slavers deserved every bit of what I gave them."

Justice dispensed.

He was happy to participate. Perhaps that would be why he is so happy to participate now.

"And do the Savrii, do you think?" Call it interest, call it curiosity. Call it whatever you may. "Or are the intermediaries not your concern? I can't imagine they would be."

Sorry, did you think Chara would be playing nice and civil, even now?

"After all, I don't believe they've ever bothered to victimize you or someone you deem important enough to care about. That rather seems to be your criteria when it comes to these sorts of things."

"You don't find being locked into a simulation where we were made to feel weak from hunger or lack of energy as poor treatment?" Mettaton asks, his tone a bit skeptical. Still though, the questions Chara posed were valid enough to answer.

"I don't believe the Savrii deserve to die. But if they get in my way, I will act accordingly."

He should probably take offense to Chara trying again to turn his intentions on him. But he finds himself particularly unaffected by such. He can't quite explain it, but he doesn't feel the need to lay this game with them anymore.

He knows who he is. He knows where he's headed.

And speaking of where they were headed...they must have been close to the defensive line, because some distance away, he can see uniformed Savrii patrolling.

...Now would be when he decided if he would put up or shut up, he supposed. Was he really going to remove these obstacles? Did he have the strength of will to do so?

"Why not? It was nowhere near what you've doubtless endured prior to now, as you're constantly needing to remind yourself." It is a near thing. They do not particularly strike at the neck, but they comment as to the frequency of that little reminder that he employs nigh-constantly.

But let it not be said that they don't keep their word. They do, however, exploit the heck out of any and all loopholes there are available to them. Which there are plenty of, and always are. As is the case with all promises.

As is the case with certain system information that gets slipped out from between fingertips, dropped, mistakenly misplaced.

If ACT accordingly translates to a certain Level Of ViolencE, they daresay they may have to oblige. A filthy enabler, a dirty hacker - it's what they are, and what they've opted to embrace. Why push it aside?

"Because I will not sink to their level," Mettaton says resolutely, and the look in his eye as he glances back at Chara is not threatening, but it's not really the kindest either. He won't give them the satisfaction of knowing they've a point, and he only adjusts his scarf to hide the unrepaired damage to his neck segments.

"I'm not the sort to condemn those caught up in the machinations of others. Instead, let's save it for the Intermediaries, shall we?"

Empty threat; he hadn't taken Mother's blessing, so he couldn't enact violence around them. Why? He's still not entirely sure, honestly. Maybe he's afraid of fighting, despite feeling it was inevitable.

They'll have to stop for the moment, if you'll excuse them. Just for a moment, mind; it's ever so hard to walk in a straight line when you're caught up in that sort of rapturous laughter. He's struck them with a truly inconceivable one-two punch right then and there - between insisting he hasn't already sunk to their level and claiming that he's not one to condemn those caught in the machinations of others - gosh, he really is giving them a workout today!

"I suppose I needed that today." Their smile is as broadly cut across as ever, as inappropriate as the rest of them is by default, and the words are devastatingly bright. "I really should thank you!"

Instead, they turn with an unintentional flare of roughly-chopped hair, and mark their hard path for the reclamation depot.

"But I won't."

They're almost there.

Mettaton sighs in obvious disgust at Chara's behavior. Fine, if they want to laugh, so be it. He'll use his annoyance at them in more productive ways, such as dealing with the Savrii that had been alerted by their mirth. Not every citizen was of a race with basic senses, like humans.

Some had overly good hearing, and a child's derisive laughter is enough to draw attention.

Well then. Mettaton will do what he's meant to do. After all, he's here as the enforcer for a weaponless child, isn't he? Not what he set out to do when he exited his barely broken-in ex-home, but it is what he's doing now.

Chara is important to people. Chara...did help him when he'd needed it, whether they'd done it out of respect to him, to Asriel and Frisk, or maybe because they were being capricious. It was a debt that deserved paying.

So he speeds up his gait, enough that his long legs outpace Chara's stride just enough to confront any trouble head on, and as expected, there's a few obvious militia thrown in with the militarized civilians. As he said, he'll only kill if he must. But he can't deny the anticipation of such an outcome which causes the corner of his mouth to twitch. He feels nothing for them, as much as he wishes to, and as hard as he's forcing the ideology into himself that he can show MERCY.

A gun is raised. Several join it. He trusts Chara to be quick on their feet. Him? He can tank some shots, he's a robot. He'll...just have to ask if Tony will fix him again, perhaps.

They've picked fights with empty patches of air, bristling with a plastic smile and a weapon unfurling, a taunt, a challenge, a dare. Laughter, the best medicine of all. A pity it can't SAVE you once you're dead.

A true, true pity.

Someone raises a gun. They're going to fire, and Mettaton - he presumes himself a metallic shield or sorts, then? Or perhaps he's simply buying them time. All they truly have to their name, at the moment, is a shock prod and a handful of improvised weapons, knives pieced together from broken pieces of shrapnel and debris.

One of said knives is flung immediately. It misses its target, instead glancing off the militia's headgear, but it sets their aim off-kilter just enough so that the heat of the incoming shot will singe Mettaton's cheek instead of blowing a hole in his head. Doubtless the latter would have been an improvement, no?

"If you were planning to FIGHT," hisses the child as they dart past, the prod blitzing to life with a flare of static, "I would suggest you do it now."

Another hole in the head would hardly cause further problems, Mettaton doesn't believe so anyway. Still, he supposes that he ought to feel grateful that Chara's actions had saved him an early injury. And it did remind him that this wasn't a game to be playing.

His very first death since being torn from home had involved so many bullets, hitting so many vital functions that his own SOUL collapsed under the strain of maintaining a malfunctioning body. For that, he should probably thank Chara. Thanks for putting him back on point.

But he won't.

Instead, he moves forward more hastily, ignoring the sear against his cheek of the bullet as it ricocheted off his metal plating.

"Don't tell me how to do my job," he says coldly, arms extending past their usual lengths to force a pair of Savrii to the ground. Once he has them disoriented, electrical magic surges from his fingertips, running through the fighters. Armor was an excellent conductive material.

...But he stops short of actually killing them in favor of rendering them unconscious. Because he has to remind himself for a moment that this isn't what he set out to do.

He didn't set out to kill...right?

He did not learn the lesson Asriel tried so desperately to imprint into their mind, body, and SOUL: kill or be killed. Really, Chara? Did you learn nothing? Do what you will, then. Come back when you're ready to REALLY show people the true meaning of this world!

"Then do your job right the first time," Chara says, twisting around to ram the end of their shock prod into base of one of the security guards' spines. The guard contorts, weapon clattering limply to the ground.

He's being shown up by a ten-year-old. Is this really how he wants to go out?

It's not, and Mettaton's pride, tattered as it was, couldn't take another blow. He wouldn't hear this from Chara again. They weren't going to shame him even as he offered his assistance to them.

And so it went. He could never escape the inevitability, just as he thought.

"Just...shut up, won't you?" he says quietly, before pulling his arms close to himself, instead choosing to aim a kick at at the fallen guard he had so generously spared. The sound of neck bones crunching, snapping like broken twigs...perhaps that would sate Chara.

Perhaps it would convince them that he was serious about this.

He had to kill. If he didn't...

The noise would be attracting more guards, soon. They didn't have time to argue over methods.

They shame everyone, including themself, all the time, sir. Get used to it.

An improvised knife is little more than a jagged chunk of rebar, sharpened to a piercing edge, enough to cut through flesh and hamstring calves. A sharp pivot on their heel, and they slam the entirety of it in through the exposed chink of skin at one unfortunate's shoulder.

They utter a pained cry, quickly cut off by the insertion of a shock rod at their abdomen.

That's when one of them catches a fistful of Chara's hair.

They swipe - once, twice, thrusting great crackling arcs with their baton, but the angle is awkward, and the Savrii hastily loops one armored arm about their neck. They kick, slamming the heel of one useless shoe into his shin - greaved and shielded from bullets, let alone the kicking and flailing of a miserable child.

They'll try to bite him next.

Mettaton's hands are initially full with his own struggle against a Savrii guard that was even taller than he was, though they were still organic. Still weak to the power of a machine given life and murderous intent by the SOUL caged within its core. Arms wrap around the guard, fingers digging in hard enough that the gloves do not disguise the prick of metal claws as well as they usually do. Those very same clawed fingertips dig in past the armor, finding the faults and gaps to dig in and draw blood.

He can't stop himself from the brief smile that flits across his face as he causes the Savrii guard pain, making them try to thrust him away. But no, they could never push him away. He's done this enough. It's so easy to reach for that same, pathetic weak spot--the neck--and coil his segmented arms around it, crushing windpipe and vertebrae alike, until blood drips from the guard's mouth and nose from the pressure.

Once they're properly dealt with, Mettaton hears the struggle Chara is making, all grunts and failing limbs as they're held against their will.

He might not like him, but one wouldn't know it from the way he rushes the guard, aggression written across his face as he sweeps the Savrii's feet from below them with one leg--he always prided himself on those legs of his--and watched them topple. Doubtless, Chara would be just as off-balance by such an action, but it gives Mettaton the advantage for now, and he uses the moment of surprise to slam his heel into the guard's shoulder. Armor does not protect against concussive blows, and the gap between chestplate and shoulder plate? It's just enough that a heel can dig its way in, piercing skin deeply. Mettaton grinds it in hard, past skin layers and well into muscle. The sounds of pain were his reward.

"Drop them now," he hisses, as if it'd change his mind on whether to kill the guard or not.

It's what always happens. What always comes next. You misbehave, and you get something for it. You get a fist upraised, a mark across the cheek - a darkness to bruise that rosied hue. Violence, violence, violence...it's the only language that creatures like them truly understand. The only language that will put children like them in line.

The only language they know how to speak with any fluency.

Hot prickles in the corners of their eyes that causes them to bite their tongue (big kids don't cry) and the staggered, muted, near-silent hiss of air between their teeth.

They land heavily in the dirt. Where the dead things crawl.

Breath rasping, lungs pinching. Get up, get up. Stand. Get up and get moving, and stop pretending that it hurt. You're going to sulk now, is that it? You're going to pitch a tantrum over it?

Stop lying around and do something.

Spin around.

Get onto your knees.

Slam the makeshift blade into the guard's ankle with the hot crunch of muscle and bone.

(Your ribs will crack next. When the knife slips in easily, unresisting, that will be your reward. That, and the long, lonesome trek up a mountain from which travelers never return.)

How helpful of them. An extra blade is not remiss in this situation, though for his part, Mettaton is busied by kneeling forward, removing the guard's helmet, and find a new and creative way to inflict pain.

...Which meant he was falling back on old murdersport habits. You have to make it look good, otherwise you'll risk being made to do it by someone else. And Mettaton will not be controlled again. If any atrocities shall be committed in this body, they'll be by him.

It's going to be him digging his clawed thumbs into the Savrii guard's eyeballs, gouging them with merciless abandon and ignoring the screams--no.

No, he's not ignoring them. He's listening, and he's smiling, because it's fun. It is FUN! Because this he can do, and it doesn't really tug at his SOUL anymore, being so adept at causing pain and death, because you would need to be able to feel remorse, and he's so close to the point of forgoing such foolish emotions entirely.

Between both their efforts, the guard doesn't move after a while, as if they're trying to play dead.

Mettaton will not allow that. Like the other guards he'd dispatched, he takes great pleasure in smashing this one's neck. He doesn't break bones this time though. He'll let them suffocate as their crushed windpipe fails to supply air. Slow deaths are just as important as quick ones.

Just as unmerciful.

God, why had he thought to fight this? Why did he want to stop himself from fulfilling his purpose? Chara really did have the right idea. Do your job right, Mettaton. Do it right. Enjoy it.

Have some fun!

Breakout and Beyond: September Plot Log

the escape

A World of Peace

Points of Interest

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this tag has been in the making for 4 days omfg

oh hush i'm no stranger to backtagging

backtags sustain my soul

same tbh

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cw allusions to child abuse

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took a lil break but TIME TO WRAP i think lol

yea we can wrap here