entrancelogs | [closed] how did you get this number?

Who: Sans and Mirror Mettaton
Where: Sans's room
When: Afternoon, 4/5
Rating: PG-13 for emotional manipulation and people being shitty to each other
Summary: Sans has been messing around with Mirrorton's "property" and it's time to drag some skele-ass
The Story:

The event is over, but Sans is still coasting on the emotional high. He's planning on coasting for as long as he can, because he knows full damn well that Wonderland isn't going to get another event like that for a very long time, if ever. Everything calm and normal, no interpersonal catastrophes--for the most part--and no horrible deaths. It was all just very nice and relaxing, and space.

It's hard to be upset when surrounded by space.

Sans has been keeping his mirror unbroken for awhile now, entirely because he hasn't heard anything from his own Mirror since November. Maybe the guy's dead or something; Sans doesn't really care. Either way, even with his mirror intact, he's not at all expecting anyone to start writing on the glass.

It's high time someone reminded him to keep his guard up at all times.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It is not eavesdropping when I am already there. When I am a part of the conversation, even if I, specifically, am not an active participant.

What part of this don't you get, Sans? They. Are. One.

Mettaton grins, sharp and deadly and oh so malicious.

Oh you needn't worry about that, Sans. Those things are already taken care of.

Mettaton will always know, even during the few times they don't speak. He will know, just like this Mettaton will know and together this Wonderland is theirs. And one day they will be on the same side of the glass once more...

He blinks slowly.

"...oh right, i forgot. you're just, uh, completely bugfuck insane."

He gives a languid shrug. Ah, well, no reasoning with someone like this.

"so what're you gonna do? just tell him to stop talking to me? cause uh, i don't think that's gonna go over too well. we're friends, yanno? if metta didn't want to talk to me, he'd have stopped already."

How much else does this guy know, anyway? And what does taken care of even mean in this regard? Does Mettaton know he's being stalked like this?

...Maybe Sans should let him know, just in case.

The mirror continues to grin, unseen by Sans as said grin grows more manic, more intense. He leans forward. His eyes are fixed on the monster before him. There is only the slimmest panels of glass and magic separating him and all it would take is a small push.

It is mighty presumptuous to think that you two are friends. Someone like you could never connect with someone like him.

His eyes focus on Sans's wrists where the carpal bones connect to the rest of his arm. They're so small. How simple would it be to pop them and crack them, one by one by one by one...

You have no right to ask me these questions, Sans. Nor do you need to know. You know what you need to do. And it will happen with or without your input.

Sans makes a thoughtful sound and taps his chin.

"yeah, i thought that too. but here we are, still being friends and all. and really, guy, what would you even know about it?"

He grins slowly.

"you can't see us during some of the events, can you? so you have no real idea what we get up to."

He'll let Mirrorton draw his own conclusions from that statement. He highly doubts the Mirror knows about the Citadel event, or the lab event.

Or hell, he probably doesn't even know about Valentine's Day, either. They were both outside at the time, well away from mirrors. He wonders if Mirrorton would just straight up blue screen if he found out.

"nah. it won't. see, eavesdropping doesn't mean you know me. and you don't know him either, much as you claim to. stalking someone don't mean you know them. so, sorry to break it to you, but i'm not gonna stop talking to him anytime soon. and i don't think he's gonna stop talking to me. or anyone. pretty sure that'll be his decision."

He grins brightly at the mirror, and his eyelights flick off.

"so how 'bout you stop wasting both our time and go back to rusting alone in that colorless world of yours?"

That, more than anything else, captures Mirrorton's attention. As much as he'd like to think that Mettaton tells him everything that happens, he knows he's lying. He knows he's holding back because he still won't tell him everything about his friends. He'll only give him summaries of what happens in the events. But the tides are changing. He can feel it. He just needs to keep pushing. And get rid of pesky roadblocks like this skeleton.

It doesn't matter. I always find out. I always know everything, in the end.

If he knew about Mettaton kissing Sans, there is no way the mirror could hide his revulsion of the skeleton in any capacity. And Mettaton would not be allowed to leave his room for a week as punishment.

Mirrorton grinds his teeth, glaring daggers at the Monster before him.

Then you will face the rightful consequences that you deserve. A punishment befitting your intrusive nature and foolish assumptions.

Sans's eyelights switch off and Mirrorton's glare increases in intensity.

The only waste here is you, Sans. Never forget that. But I will take my leave. I have better things to do than to speak to you now that I have said my piece.

"sure you do. whatever you say."

How could he expect to find out, anyway? From Mettaton? Even if they did talk now and then, there's no way Mettaton would tell this guy actually important details.

His eyelights come back and he grins amicably, giving another careless shrug.

"i'm all about consequences. guess we'll see what happens. though if you ever end up on this side--if we're ever face to face again? heh."

His grin brightens.

"i'd use those metta-legs of yours and run."

He won't, Sans knows. You can't reason with someone like this. But that's his own damn fault. Can't say Sans didn't warn him.

"sure. see you around, bucko."

Mirrorton growls at the threat. It's a dangerous thing to do, Sans. And this mirror is not afraid, not even for an instant.

Because it doesn't matter what he says. Or what anyone says or does. Mettaton is his. He will always be his. No one in all of Wonderland has a claim to that metal body more than this mirror and he unequivocally has staked it.

And Mettaton is learning this. Learning that they belong together and only together, albeit slowly. As for the parts that are harder for him to learn, well...

This Mettaton will be happy to assist him in his lessons. The mirror moves from the mirror, walking out of the room as easily as he came in. It's a little strange that Mirror Sans isn't around but the thought merely glances by in his head before he's rushing back to his room to inform his property of what just happened.

[closed] how did you get this number?

MIRRORTON DON'T GIVE A FUCK

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