A small, green girl riding on a large robot's shoulders. Swords are twirling around them like some medieval blender, while bolts of lightning spin out from the heart in the robot's hands and continuously strike the swords, electrifying them. Floating blocks also spin rapidly around the duo, offering as much protection as spinning blocks possibly can.
They themselves also may or may not be floating around like an obnoxious, deadly gnat. That one's on Peridot.]
Keep on them, darling! I've got you!
Well, this seems like a suitable date (closed to Keats)
Well, look who finally decided to help.
[It's a joke. Keats has been helping, just not directly at Mettaton's side. Now that he's split from Peridot, he can finally track down the violent shrimp he's dating and act like 1) he isn't worried and 2) the man had been sitting on his hands this entire time because he didn't exist in Mettaton's eye-line.
Mettaton himself is obviously exhausted. Acid has corroded away parts the beautiful chrome and pink of his body, flames have painted other spots on him a dark black. His hair is frayed. His expression, for once, is set into something serious.
He worms his way into Keats' space, summoning those rapidly spinning blocks again to protect the both of them. Above their heads comes a disco ball - it's shooting constant streams of lasers as cover.]
Let's see you on the dancefloor, eh?
Coffee & Contemplation
[He'd come to the end with a full script already in mind - George was going to crack under the pressure and fall in line with his dearest crush. He was going to betray everyone. Mettaton had steeled himself, for several days now, to take the two of them out at the slightest hint of deception. He had planned out all of the logistics: his powers would be unreliable, but he still had a gun. He would have to shoot Mavahari first, then George. He could distract them with summons or projections, to keep them from getting their bearings. He'd have to face the rest of his teammates, but it was Romeo and Juliet against the entire rest of the universe. He was picking the universe.
...and then George was dead and suddenly all of the determination to end another sentient being's life just... drained out of him.
The minotaur is dead. The team is searching, diligently, for a way to solve the puzzles and get themselves out of here.
Mettaton's never liked puzzles. He sits on the edge of the platform, swinging his legs back and forth, his eyes (well. Eye) focused elsewhere. He'd pulled out the gun, just out of habit, but now it's laying in his lap like a disinterested cat. He isn't even really holding it; he's more content to doodle little designs into his own gloves with a pink glitter pen.
At the sound of someone else entering his personal space, the robot speaks without looking.]
How do you think this maze is supposed to end? Without the secret exit, I mean. Is it all supposed to be just one, big, unsolvable death-trap? ...Ha. That seems like a sadistic waste of time, to me.
Mettaton | OTA + closed prompts
[Do you know what makes an interesting sight?
A small, green girl riding on a large robot's shoulders. Swords are twirling around them like some medieval blender, while bolts of lightning spin out from the heart in the robot's hands and continuously strike the swords, electrifying them. Floating blocks also spin rapidly around the duo, offering as much protection as spinning blocks possibly can.
They themselves also may or may not be floating around like an obnoxious, deadly gnat. That one's on Peridot.]
Keep on them, darling! I've got you!
Well, this seems like a suitable date (closed to Keats)
Well, look who finally decided to help.
[It's a joke. Keats has been helping, just not directly at Mettaton's side. Now that he's split from Peridot, he can finally track down the violent shrimp he's dating and act like 1) he isn't worried and 2) the man had been sitting on his hands this entire time because he didn't exist in Mettaton's eye-line.
Mettaton himself is obviously exhausted. Acid has corroded away parts the beautiful chrome and pink of his body, flames have painted other spots on him a dark black. His hair is frayed. His expression, for once, is set into something serious.
He worms his way into Keats' space, summoning those rapidly spinning blocks again to protect the both of them. Above their heads comes a disco ball - it's shooting constant streams of lasers as cover.]
Let's see you on the dancefloor, eh?
Coffee & Contemplation
[He'd come to the end with a full script already in mind - George was going to crack under the pressure and fall in line with his dearest crush. He was going to betray everyone. Mettaton had steeled himself, for several days now, to take the two of them out at the slightest hint of deception. He had planned out all of the logistics: his powers would be unreliable, but he still had a gun. He would have to shoot Mavahari first, then George. He could distract them with summons or projections, to keep them from getting their bearings. He'd have to face the rest of his teammates, but it was Romeo and Juliet against the entire rest of the universe. He was picking the universe.
...and then George was dead and suddenly all of the determination to end another sentient being's life just... drained out of him.
The minotaur is dead. The team is searching, diligently, for a way to solve the puzzles and get themselves out of here.
Mettaton's never liked puzzles. He sits on the edge of the platform, swinging his legs back and forth, his eyes (well. Eye) focused elsewhere. He'd pulled out the gun, just out of habit, but now it's laying in his lap like a disinterested cat. He isn't even really holding it; he's more content to doodle little designs into his own gloves with a pink glitter pen.
At the sound of someone else entering his personal space, the robot speaks without looking.]
How do you think this maze is supposed to end? Without the secret exit, I mean. Is it all supposed to be just one, big, unsolvable death-trap? ...Ha. That seems like a sadistic waste of time, to me.
?Wildcard me!!?