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ex_mettacrusher33) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
epidemiology2017-04-08 07:13 pm
ex_mettacrusher33) wrote in epidemiology2017-04-08 07:13 pm
i invited ortega over tonight to watch sliders in my room (closed)
CHARACTERS: Mettaton, Maya, Peridot, Feferi, Keats, Olivia, Vaughn, Oliver, Giorno, Fugo, Papyrus (and possibly Sans)
DATE: A bit after arriving in Terra Felis
WARNINGS: Some of the movies involve violence, but this is just a sleepover. On a cat planet.
SUMMARY: Mettaton invited his closest friends to a musical viewing planned for when they got back to Oska. They're uh... they're just gonna have to make due with what they have.
...this isn't what Mettaton expected.
The original plan was much more dour in nature, surely. He had a very specific intent to hole himself in his room in Oska, feel horrible for himself, and then force those whose presence he enjoyed into spending the night with him watching movies that he also enjoyed. It was meticulously planned to cheer himself up! To encourage his friends to meet with one another and talk about how wonderful him and his taste in entertainment was! To fill the gaping void of despair of leaving Woodhurst with love and admiration!!
Instead, he found himself surrounded by cats. That tends to blast a hole in any pre-planned pity-party.
But! The show must go on, even with a change in scenery or motivation. Besides, it isn't as if his wonderful, wonderful friends (and Keats) couldn't use something fun themselves!! He promised them a celebration! After everything they've gone through, they certainly deserve it.
So his hotel room has been decorated as beautifully as Mettaton himself. Blankets hang from the ceiling, creating one giant fort within the room proper. Glitter is seemingly everywhere. Snacks (...mostly meat-based, like hamburgers, thanks to the area) have been paid for and set up lovingly along more blankets on the floor. Several pillows are also on the floor, as well a steady pile of them in the corner of the room (for extra and/or lounging, you see). The bed holds even more pillows, and the vanity has been encompassed in the fort for any emergency midnight makeovers.
It's going to be a long night.
--
6pm to 11pm:
West Side Story
Little Shop of Horrors
Les Mis
Things are starting off particularly well! It's a trio of downers, sure, but there's enjoyment to be had with them regardless! Mettaton continues to maintain that these are classics and need to be revered as such, but this notably doesn't stop him from pointing out any terrible singing or riffing on anything silly, especially with the last movie involved. He encourages his friends to do the same and get as much fun out of the experience as possible. It's a fine start.
--
12am to 4am:
The Little Mermaid
Enchanted
Into the Woods
The snacks are beginning to wane. The weakest of those invited have begun to quietly drift off into the night, which is a shame for two reasons: One, these are more hopeful movies!! The joyful ones!! The ones Mettaton can't seem to stop himself from sobbing dramatically at. Two, he has a supply of glitter pens at his disposal and has suspiciously left them in plain view, as if challenging his guests to use them on one another.
--
5am to 7am:
Sweeney Todd
Chicago
Rocky Horror Picture Show
Grease 2
It's the dreaming hours, now. Most people with sane sleeping schedules or an ability to tune out Mettaton's gabbing have taken to the slumber part of this party. The movies have also gotten a bit more... questionable, in their content. Cannibalism, murder, badly-sung songs about reproduction... Anyone still awake has most likely reached that blissful, slap-happy state of all slumber-parties where everything is hilarious, the giggles cannot stop, and you're constantly trying to keep yourself from waking the rest of the guests.
--
Mingle, enjoy, and please keep Maya from eating all of the snacks.
PS: Don't trust the bone goblin attempting to sell catnip. He wasn't invited.
DATE: A bit after arriving in Terra Felis
WARNINGS: Some of the movies involve violence, but this is just a sleepover. On a cat planet.
SUMMARY: Mettaton invited his closest friends to a musical viewing planned for when they got back to Oska. They're uh... they're just gonna have to make due with what they have.
...this isn't what Mettaton expected.
The original plan was much more dour in nature, surely. He had a very specific intent to hole himself in his room in Oska, feel horrible for himself, and then force those whose presence he enjoyed into spending the night with him watching movies that he also enjoyed. It was meticulously planned to cheer himself up! To encourage his friends to meet with one another and talk about how wonderful him and his taste in entertainment was! To fill the gaping void of despair of leaving Woodhurst with love and admiration!!
Instead, he found himself surrounded by cats. That tends to blast a hole in any pre-planned pity-party.
But! The show must go on, even with a change in scenery or motivation. Besides, it isn't as if his wonderful, wonderful friends (and Keats) couldn't use something fun themselves!! He promised them a celebration! After everything they've gone through, they certainly deserve it.
So his hotel room has been decorated as beautifully as Mettaton himself. Blankets hang from the ceiling, creating one giant fort within the room proper. Glitter is seemingly everywhere. Snacks (...mostly meat-based, like hamburgers, thanks to the area) have been paid for and set up lovingly along more blankets on the floor. Several pillows are also on the floor, as well a steady pile of them in the corner of the room (for extra and/or lounging, you see). The bed holds even more pillows, and the vanity has been encompassed in the fort for any emergency midnight makeovers.
It's going to be a long night.
--
6pm to 11pm:
West Side Story
Little Shop of Horrors
Les Mis
Things are starting off particularly well! It's a trio of downers, sure, but there's enjoyment to be had with them regardless! Mettaton continues to maintain that these are classics and need to be revered as such, but this notably doesn't stop him from pointing out any terrible singing or riffing on anything silly, especially with the last movie involved. He encourages his friends to do the same and get as much fun out of the experience as possible. It's a fine start.
--
12am to 4am:
The Little Mermaid
Enchanted
Into the Woods
The snacks are beginning to wane. The weakest of those invited have begun to quietly drift off into the night, which is a shame for two reasons: One, these are more hopeful movies!! The joyful ones!! The ones Mettaton can't seem to stop himself from sobbing dramatically at. Two, he has a supply of glitter pens at his disposal and has suspiciously left them in plain view, as if challenging his guests to use them on one another.
--
5am to 7am:
Sweeney Todd
Chicago
Rocky Horror Picture Show
Grease 2
It's the dreaming hours, now. Most people with sane sleeping schedules or an ability to tune out Mettaton's gabbing have taken to the slumber part of this party. The movies have also gotten a bit more... questionable, in their content. Cannibalism, murder, badly-sung songs about reproduction... Anyone still awake has most likely reached that blissful, slap-happy state of all slumber-parties where everything is hilarious, the giggles cannot stop, and you're constantly trying to keep yourself from waking the rest of the guests.
--
Mingle, enjoy, and please keep Maya from eating all of the snacks.
PS: Don't trust the bone goblin attempting to sell catnip. He wasn't invited.
no subject
As is that, what the hell is THAT?] Oh BOOOOOOOOOOOO!! [Canned_Heckling.mp3!] Boo! BOOO! Rubbish! Filth, slime, muck, etc!! That one was REACHING.
[...he's also out of nut puns, so Mettaton settles for letting his own laughter ring though the night.]
no subject
[He says, finally just ending with another soft laugh (two laughs in one night, this is a miracle) as he shifts to lean against the other as they walk. Keats feels very warm. Maybe that's the sleep deprivation talking.]
What time is it? I really need to catch up on sleep...
no subject
...but oh. Yes. The time. Sleeping. Human behavior.]
Almost 6 in the morning, [he reads off from some internal clock, suddenly dour.]
no subject
[Keats, who even says that.]
[He stifles a yawn with a hand.]
If I sleepwalk again, just close the door so I don't go anywhere, alright?
no subject
[Sigh.
This was. Nice. Harrowing for a few minutes, yes. Filled with topics they'll most likely never discuss again, definitely, but this part was... surprising. A moonlit stroll, filled with jokes and good company. You could almost, if you were reaching as badly as Keats' puns, call it... romantic.
Ha. Haha.
There's a pause as Mettaton fiddles with his own hair.] Well. Goodnight then, honeysuckle. I'll just be out here a little longer, if you don't mind.
no subject
Don't catch a cold, now. [He says, with a huff, knowing quite well that Mettaton probably can't catch any kind of cold at all.]
Have a good night. [He turns towards the door, before glancing over his shoulder.]
You know, I actually did like some of those musicals. So, not bad choices on your part.
[Is all he says, before be smirks to himself and walks back into the hotel without explaining himself any further.]
[Nighty night, Mettaton.]
no subject
[This is stupid. This is idiotic. He's not supposed to be feeling this way. He's not supposed to feel sad that Keats is leaving him; any sane person on the planet would be celebrating that fact. He's not supposed to smile weakly at that smirk and validation that his taste is, in fact, exquisite enough to get even the most picky of people to lighten up. He's not supposed to melt under that stare or wish these curtains would close on a kiss, one he could actually feel, like all the musicals do. He's not supposed feel that horrible burning in his core, enough to make him wrap his arms around his stomach, as the other walks off.
This is just a game. He doesn't care about Keats. Keats is a means to an end. A tool. Mettaton twists the nob and compliments fall out and that's all he wants. This doesn't mean anything.
...There's a very nice fountain, nearby. He's just going to sit on its edge for a while as cats curl into his lap, waiting for the sun.]