[open] december catch-all

[glitzandglamour]

Who: Mettaton (metalcrusher/glitzandglamour) and YOU
When: Deceuer
Where: Throughout Aefenglom, and perhaps even at your doorstep. . .? In your bed??
What: Some winter event prompts, as well as some full moon prompts
Warnings: A touch of body disfiguration, constantly. A lot of prompts, and even more Mettaton.

1. Snow Way Out (12/6 - 12/10)

Lending a Hand

1A. → Aristocratic District

[Pathways are cleared in a portion of the district, with someone clearly hard at work. And if the rich folks themselves are too reluctant to set foot outdoors, who better to curry their favor than one enterprising robot who can't feel the cold?

But as he worked, Mettaton became distracted by the snow he began piling up in a blank space aside from the buildings. Snow, as he discovered, is very satisfying to dig. With his sore-ridden ears tied and hidden by a burgundy velvet scarf wrapped into something reminiscent of a pin-up's, Mettaton stands in front of an impressive pile of snow, compacted and constructed into what could only be described as... a fashionable snow-burrow, complete with ornamentation and even a sign sculpted atop its entrance: MTT, it reads in curly script. An absolute mad man.

The robotic Puca turns, his gloved fists planted on the closest approximation of his hips while he gestures to his sculpted home.]

I SEE YOU'RE ADMIRING MY HANDIWORK. NOT THAT I COULD BLAME YOU. THIS WOULDN'T BE THE FIRST PROPERTY I'VE OWNED... "OWNED," HA-HA. OR DESIGNED! SO NATURALLY, I HAVE AN EYE FOR PRIME REAL ESTATE.

[He pauses; his screen flashes a dim red.]

THIS... IS ONLY A REPLICA OF THE VISION I HAVE! YES. [Back to the letter M with his display.] ACTUALLY. IF YOU ARE ALSO IN THE BUSINESS OF CLEARING SNOW... WOULD YOU BE A DEAR AND BRING IT MY WAY? I HAVE PLENTY OF OTHER IDEAS TO FLESH OUT... AND I HAVE TO ADMIT. IT'S ODDLY SATISFYING, DIGGING THROUGH SNOW. YOU MUST AGREE WITH ME.

1B. → Refugee District

WAIT!!

[Lots of the Mirrorbound are hard at work in the Refugee Districts, clearing up debris, snow, and situations more dire than that in the posh Aristocratic District. If anywhere needs the attention, it's here, what with collapsing buildings, fallen snowdrifts, and frigid conditions. Perhaps you were also lending a hand at doing some good, all the way up until this odd rectangular robot grabs your shoulder with an extended arm.]

DON'T LOOK SO SHOCKED, DARLING! SURELY YOU NOTICED MY PRESENCE BEFORE I EVEN SPOKE... NOW. [He withdraws his hand and folds his fingers together, giving off the impression of tenseness.] LISTEN CAREFULLY. WHATEVER YOU WERE GOING TO DO? ...DON'T!!

[That's cryptic.]

Warm Company

1C. → Dormitories (...or your character's very own bed????? I won't stop you, as long as the locks won't stop Mettaton.)

[Finally, somewhere marginally warmer than the rest of Aefenglom. The room is dark, the fireside crackling, and the bed is so inviting. A bit lumpier than it looked before, but inviting nonetheless.

That is, until you approach and realize that there is somebody underneath the plush sheets. He shifts; props himself up on his arm. His heavy-lidded eye, a striking gold, beckons without words while he offers a charming smile from across the pillow. He's keeping it warm. ｏｈ ｙｅｓ...]

Oh... Lonely, on a night like this? Or is this purely a chance meeting? [Either way, Mettaton... pats the bed. Invitingly.] Well. There's plenty of room for you, too. I don't mind! You're so lucky tonight, chancing upon me in this bed.

[∗ It's cold. Mettaton is made of metal.]

2. Full Moon (12/12)

2A. → Entertainment District

[Full moons have been a disturbing affair at best. Mettaton knows by now to tuck himself away for the night to prevent an audience from catching sight of him in unseemly ways, especially as he fancies himself an up-and-coming star. On the evening of the 12th, MTT slips into a stagnate, unoccupied theater — a usual destination for him on these nights, and one that has yielded ample privacy to him so far.

In an attempt to distract himself, Mettaton sings lines into the still air of the theater. They're lines he can recite on automatic, lines to a musical he knows by heart — one of the many from the Surface that he's watched over and over, a distant memory sitting in front a pink television set. They're lines he used to sing to, in fact. And when he closes his eyes, he can almost hear the sound of his cousin's remastered tracks they made to go with a voice so haunting that it was unmistakably that of a ghost's. His voice is the biggest difference, he thinks, replaced by a tune strong and resonant in the dingy theater.

When a shock of pain courses through his legs and up his back, that note carried on his voice doesn't even falter. It's so unlike anything he's experienced so far, and it rattles him enough to bring him down to his knees. Eye squeezed shut, Mettaton grips onto his head crushing with pain. His legs... Dread overcomes him. Why would his legs be hurting so badly?

But he knows the answer. When Mettaton tries to stand, he finds that he can't. The toe of his boot doesn't click against the smooth surface of the dusty stage but instead, the drag of claws. The robotic idol lets himself fall to his hip and swings his legs out before him, his eye fluttering open. Instead of noticing that he has company, he fixates on his pink heels that erupt with raw tissue and inky black fur. Fur, claws, paws. Sores, welts, and oozing blisters. It's all of the works he's been dealing with, but the way the very structure of his leg appears to be distorting...]

They're—

[His voice hitches, and he spots the faint figure of unexpected company. His eye widens.]

...What? Oh, these? ... They can be replaced, my legs. Not a problem!! [He tries to smile from his place on stage, his incisors long and pronounced. His ears hidden in the fashionable black scarf tied around his crown. His claws buried underneath matching black gloves.] There are perks to having a custom-built body! It's not a big deal for someone like me. Nothing I haven't dealt with before!

[Having his body change so much, he thinks, but he means explicitly the damage and subsequent repair of his metal body.]

Don't worry about me, darling. And... what brings you here?

2B. → Entertainment District

Yoo-hoo! Yes, you. Come here.

[This command is difficult to ignore, carried on such a loud voice. It's much later into the night. Taking his first night outside of the theater, those without night vision can see the white of his smile and the faint glow from his heart-shaped core, but little else. Mettaton curls a finger.]

Yes, you'll do. Listen. I'm in the mood for a bit of fun. Anything to distract us all from the full moon, am I right??

[In that moment, Mettaton changes shape — into the mirror image of the person standing before him. With a sweet smile, MTT cups his own cheeks — the face of the person standing before him, actually.]

Fabulous! It's not fabulous like me, but... You know what I mean. Now. Rrrready to play??

[(A Yes or No prompt was not provided.) ...But he waits for a response all the same.]

[WOW GOOD THING I DIDN'T GET ANY BITES ON THIS I TOTALLY MISUNDERSTOOD SHAPESHIFTING]

3. Modranicht (& Modranicht Accessories) (12/17 - 12/23)

Caroling

3A. → Your Front Door.

[This is the prompt you choose if you want Christmas I mean Modranicht carolers. Ha, you thought that slight rap on your door was a small child? It's not. In this case, it's Mettaton, the sexiest rectangle in Aefenglom.

He's wearing a santa hat.]

OOOOH YESSSS! GOOD EVENING, BEAUTIFUL. IT'S ME, METTATON!! I HAVE COME TO DELIVER UNTO YOU GOOD TIDINGS, AND THE DELECTABLE TONES OF MY DEEP AND MELODIOUS VOICE! 'TIS THE SEASON, AND ALL THAT! THE OPPORTUNITY FOR A LIVE PERFORMANCE BY MOI, FROM THE COMFORT OF YOUR OWN HOME... IS IT NOT THE SECOND BEST THING TO TV??

[Yes, this is your chance to try to slam the door on him. Try.]

3B. → Your Front Door.

[This is the prompt you choose if you want Christmas I mean Modranicht carolers. Ha, you thought that slight rap on your door was a small child? It's not. In this case, it's Mettaton, the sexiest ... in Aefenglom. Just the sexiest.

He's wearing a santa hat.]

Ooooh yessss! Good evening, beautiful. It's me, Mettaton!! I have come to deliver unto you good tidings, and the delectable tones of my smooth and delicious voice! 'Tis the season, and all that! The opportunity for a live performance by moi, from the comfort of your own home... Is it not the second best thing to TV??

[This is the same prompt as before, but with a different version of Mettaton. How observant. It just smacks a different way.]

Kiss-tletoe

3C. OH, I AM DOOMED TO AN ETERNITY OF WAITING. WAITING FOR A WORTHY HERO TO LIBERATE ME WITH A SMALL ACT OF AFFECTION.

[Yeah, he's out here doing this. Mettaton presses the back of his velvet-gloved hand to the approximation of his forehead, his screen a perpetual red.]

IT'S NOT FAIR TO ENTRAP ME IN AN AREA OF SUCH SECLUSION, KNOWING THAT IF I WERE IN A BUSTLING CROWD... EVERYONE WOULD BE FIGHTING FOR THE CHANCE TO KISS MY GLISTENING SURFACE! OH MY! THE DASTARDLY AMBITIONS OF INANIMATE ENCHANTED SPRIGS OF MISTLETOE. THEY DO SEE FIT TO STOP ME IN MY TRACKS, AND FOR WHAT CAUSE?? SURELY, I MUST BE SAVED. I MUST BE!

BUT WHO IS BRAVE ENOUGH TO APPROACH SOMEONE WITH MY RADIANCE? SOMEONE BOLD ENOUGH TO SEE PAST MY ELEGANCE... ENOUGH TO NOTICE THE INVISIBLE VINES THAT BIND ME TO MY SPOT. COULD IT BE...

[At this, Hotland's star clasps together his hands and displays a red heart against a yellow backdrop as he turns to his newfound company. Pressure's on, and expectation hangs heavy in the air.]

...YOU?

3D. [Even if dodging mistletoe plants is your forte, it seems one has gone miraculously unnoticed — and just as Mettaton passes, too. The sly, mischievous glint in his eye betrays anything but surprise, though he makes a show of it anyway.]

Oh... So. There's mistletoe above us, isn't there.

[Said more like a statement, less like a question. His arm retracts (from wherever; what was he doing?), and his fingertips land against his jawline.]

But really. There's no rush, darling! Why not get to know each other a little better first? Unless... Your idea of getting to know me is by kissing me.

Eat, Drink, Be Merry

3E. [Everybody who knows me knows that Mettaton Eating Seductively Despite The Fact That He Doesn't Have A Mouth is my favorite kind of prompt, so that's what this is.

Robots, unable to eat?? Shut up. If there's a will, there's a way, and Mettaton has both of those things. Propped up on a tabletop he's cleared for his hunk of a body, Mettaton reclines next to plates of food as he hand-feeds himself with such poise and deliberation that it's sure to turn heads. And if it doesn't turn heads because of his charisma, it turns heads because it's an electric box "feeding" himself a dainty tea sandwich. (Naturally, all of the food he's selected are aesthetically pleasing.)

When he notices he's being watched by a fellow Mirrorbound, Mettaton gestures toward the plate. ...Like a magic trick, the tea sandwich he was holding has disappeared somehow.]

I SEE YOU'RE EYEING ME. DO YOU FIND ME ENTICING...? OR ARE YOU JUST FANCYING MY TASTY TREATS?

[The plate. Mettaton. Which is more uhhhhhhh enticing?]

3F. [what the fuck are those

Whatever they are, they're glittery. Food shouldn't be glittery. They look like they've been absolutely bedazzled on a cellular level, and with their absurdity and light-reflecting qualities, they absolutely steal the show. In reality, they probably imbue awe and fear into party-goers.

Mettaton sidles up.]

So? What catches your eye among this spread? I'm all ears for areas of intrigue. Or should I make a guess...?

0. Other

Feel free to get in touch if you'd like me to write up a custom prompt, or reply on the CR meme!

Comments

[metalcrusher]

OH. YES. THAT.

He raises a finger.]

I DIDN'T NEED TO ASK, BECAUSE I HAD A DREAM BEFORE ARRIVING HERE. APPARENTLY IT PORTENDS BEING A MONSTER IF, IN YOUR DREAM... YOU HAVE RABBIT EARS AND BUCK TEETH. YES, I AM A MONSTER. BUT A MONSTER CAN DREAM.

[He's just a Monster who doesn't know anything about being a Puca.]

[inlikethebrume]

Oh so you had a dream as well. More than likely different than mine but I'm surprised that some had shown appearances before arriving.

[Dreams are weird. But doesn't a 'monster' also have some sort of magic as well?]

I...unfortunately do not know what kind of creature has those features but perhaps your sense of some potential danger is the magic tied to yourself?

[metalcrusher]

[Dreams are especially weird when you don't normally sleep and hardly know the real meaning of sleep, too. But most don't think of that. Even if they did, Mettaton would argue that he's a gorgeous robot who needs his beauty rest too. To be beautiful.

Maybe, if his ears were undamaged, they'd be rotating all over the place as he considers Mira's point. But they're tied back, unable to be seen beyond their tips. His screen does enough emoting for him, as each square randomly changes between yellow and red.]

SENSE OF POTENTIAL DANGER... WHO KNOWS! THOUGH I AM A PUCA, I CAN'T SAY I KNOW MUCH ABOUT THEM. BEING A ROBOT, A STAR, A MONSTER, A... PUCA. IT'S A LOT TO KEEP TRACK OF. AT THIS POINT, I MAY AS WELL HAVE MY OWN SET OF SPECIES CONCEPTS JUST FOR A ROBOT-MONSTER-PUCA.

[inlikethebrume]

As long as you are able to handle all those roles, it should be alright.

[She can testify even if she won't say it outright unless asked. Although she has to wonder how the hell Hancock got the title 'Stealer of Pants' attached to her but another story, another time. Perhaps she can ask more while they work to clear this area?]

You spoke of being a star of sorts...like a performer?

[metalcrusher]

[When Mettaton chats, he seems to preoccupied by the sound of his own voice to be of any help. But when he listens, he lends a hand where he can, and that capability isn't too shabby. It's like he's had years to practice working this form.]

OF COURSE! DID YOU THINK SOMEONE AS SEXY AS I AM WOULDN'T BE A CELEBRITY? AHAHA. [Okay, Mettaton knows that humans don't think rectangles are sexy. But this is all about self-perception.] WHERE I'M FROM, I'M ONLY THE MOST FAMOUS TV STAR IN THE ENTIRE UNDERGROUND!

[inlikethebrume]

T...V...?

[She sounds confused. Explain to the fantasy lady.]

What is this 'TV'?

[metalcrusher]

OH NO.

[Oh no. What is with so many of these people and not having such fundamental technology? How do they live? How are they still decent people? Mettaton's screen blanks out at the sheer horror, half of which is dramatized for extra effect.]

YOU DON'T KNOW... WHAT TELEVISION IS. YOU'VE NEVER WATCHED A TV SHOW, OR A MOVIE, OR EVEN AN ADVERTISEMENT?

[inlikethebrume]

[Is the nice magitek guy ok?]

N-Nay, they do not exist where I come from. At least where I have visited. What is it? I do not understand what this 'movie' is either.

[metalcrusher]

I SHOULD HAVE NOTICED ALL ALONG. THE ANTIQUATED SPEECH TICKS. THE WAY YOU LOOKED AT ME.

[In a sudden bout of unwieldy Puca's vocal mimicry, fused with his own robotic sound manipulation, Mettaton employs an imitation of Mira's voice that sounds as though it's digitally produced:] 'Tis no manner of sentient being I have yet to behold. Pray, is it magic? Technology? What is a robot? I have naught a clue.

[Complete with over-exaggerated hand gestures of surprise and confusion. ...Apparently, he fancies himself an actor.]

OF COURSE YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT TV IS. I'M SORRY TO HEAR ABOUT THAT. TO START WITH, YES, I AM A PERFORMER. IMAGINE THAT I AM A PERFORMER IN A PLAY... BUT THAT PLAY IS RECORDED. IT CAN BE WATCHED... ON TV! BY HUNDREDS, OR THOUSANDS, OR MILLIONS! THAT IS TV.

[inlikethebrume]

[Mira has to step back because oh hells, hearing her own voice come out like that is creepy.]

H-How did you do that?!

[Please don't do that again, it was scary.]

So this TV is something that shows a play or performance?

[That doesn't help much but it sounds like a thing...]

[metalcrusher]

YES, A TELEVISION IS THE TECHNOLOGY WE USE TO WATCH THE PERFORMANCE. WHEN IT IS ON A TV, WE CALL THIS PERFORMANCE A TV SHOW! WHERE I'M FROM, IT'S BECOME AN INTEGRAL PART OF HUMAN CULTURE.

[And monster culture, thanks to him, but he's more focused on the human experience he thinks he knows at the moment. He demonstrates a heart shape on his screen to express his feelings on TV.]

YOU HAVE TO ADMIT. I AM SUITED TO BEING A PERFORMER.

[inlikethebrume]

I-I guess so!

[Ok he could be harmless...just as long as he doesn't mimic her voice again.]

You do have that presence.

[metalcrusher]

[He's as harmless as his emotes suggest he is, and he rubs at his metal like he's polishing it.]

THANK YOU. ALL EYES DO GRAVITATE TO ME, WHEN I ENTER A ROOM...

[wonder why.]

WELL! IT'S BEEN SPLENDID, MIRA, DARLING. BUT I HAVE A SHOP I MUST BE GETTING TO, NOW THAT DANGER'S PASSED AND I'M NO LONGER POSSESSED BY IT. I HAVE HEARD... THAT THIS SHOP IS IN NEED OF SOMEONE FITTING MY ELECTRONIC DESCRIPTION TO HELP THEM WITH A LIGHTING DISASTER. [He shrugs.] ONE DOES WHAT ONE MUST... EVEN IF THAT'S LOANING OUT HIS ELECTRICITY TO A MUNDANE PURPOSE.