[The enthusiasm for company goes both ways, as it's also a turnskin thing and part of how Papyrus so easily jumped into these plans. Who would want to go back home to do unnecessary cleaning chores, when he could join a crowd and attend Mettaton's performances? Who would want to just mill about in a crowd, when he could not just hang out with a star, but perform with him??? Really, it was decided almost before they started talking.
Now, the mild resistance the guards meet is, maybe, a little less resistance than a certain sensual friction as Mettaton flirts with them more outrageously than Papyrus can remember ever seeing from the robot... and that flirtation energy meter was already topping out, from all the enabling and improv.
For his part, Papyrus moves forward and puts himself between the guards and Mettaton, an unconscious protective posture as he braces for whatever they're going to do.]
Yeah! No mind control involved!! So, it's okay! It's legal!
[Says the turnskin, who would, obviously, not have any mind control magic to speak of. That is not even slightly how the wording of the no-theater law goes, and also, that's not the biggest issue.
A couple of the guards, further back in the group and a little less under exposed to Mettaton's flirtations, say as much: Get off the Wall. Come with us. You are under arrest, do not resist, and other such sentiments. One of them, a bear-turnskin even larger than Papyrus, is the first to get ahold of his arm. He tenses up, growling the slightest bit with fear as the guard visibly draws out a... set of manacles? A bracelet? It's hard to say as the guards continue rushing forward, and everything is a chaos of movement.]
no subject
Now, the mild resistance the guards meet is, maybe, a little less resistance than a certain sensual friction as Mettaton flirts with them more outrageously than Papyrus can remember ever seeing from the robot... and that flirtation energy meter was already topping out, from all the enabling and improv.
For his part, Papyrus moves forward and puts himself between the guards and Mettaton, an unconscious protective posture as he braces for whatever they're going to do.]
Yeah! No mind control involved!! So, it's okay! It's legal!
[Says the turnskin, who would, obviously, not have any mind control magic to speak of. That is not even slightly how the wording of the no-theater law goes, and also, that's not the biggest issue.
A couple of the guards, further back in the group and a little less under exposed to Mettaton's flirtations, say as much: Get off the Wall. Come with us. You are under arrest, do not resist, and other such sentiments. One of them, a bear-turnskin even larger than Papyrus, is the first to get ahold of his arm. He tenses up, growling the slightest bit with fear as the guard visibly draws out a... set of manacles? A bracelet? It's hard to say as the guards continue rushing forward, and everything is a chaos of movement.]