Mettaton finally peels his eyes away from his own hand, looking over Giorno's expression. It's serene, yet dour, like a warrior heading into a battle they know they'll win but won't make it out of. It's then coupled with this child-like way of taking horrible news and twisting it into a fairy tale - that the prisons and revolting are just an obstacle to the way of a happily ever after.
It's eerie, yet enthralling. No wonder Fugo's wrapped around this boy's finger.
Mettaton pulls himself away and shakes his hand in the air, drying off the ink. He pushes himself over to sit himself behind Giorno and reaches for his hair.] Your braid's coming loose, sweetheart, [he explains.
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Mettaton finally peels his eyes away from his own hand, looking over Giorno's expression. It's serene, yet dour, like a warrior heading into a battle they know they'll win but won't make it out of. It's then coupled with this child-like way of taking horrible news and twisting it into a fairy tale - that the prisons and revolting are just an obstacle to the way of a happily ever after.
It's eerie, yet enthralling. No wonder Fugo's wrapped around this boy's finger.
Mettaton pulls himself away and shakes his hand in the air, drying off the ink. He pushes himself over to sit himself behind Giorno and reaches for his hair.] Your braid's coming loose, sweetheart, [he explains.
...hm.]
How did you come into so much money, Gigi?