Mettaton~! ♥ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mettatonvevo) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2016-09-02 04:54 pm
mettatonvevo) wrote in entrancelogs2016-09-02 04:54 pm
[OPEN] I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me
Who: Mettaton, Mirror Mettaton, and YOU!
Where: Mettaton’s Room and then the rest of Wonderland!
When: September 1st (backdated shhh)
Rating: PG-13 but will probably go higher because Mirrors, am I right?
Summary: Mirror Mettaton has been DYING to get his hands on his real for awhile now. Real Mettaton has no idea that this is a thing and consequently suffers for it.
The Story:
It’s a usual day for Mettaton. Wake up, check his systems, run diagnostics, decide on an outfit (or not), then touch up anything on his body that might not be up to his standard. Despite those last few parts hinging on using his full-body mirror, he’s not too worried about it. His mirror and he have a deal, after all. They help each other look good and then carry on with their days, with the mirror covered in a beautiful white throw blanket after that. (They decided together what kind of thing would cover it.) All in all, it’s typical.
Until he finds an invitation to a house party on his bedside desk and he goes to his mirror for his routine. It’s not immediate to him that the glass has been removed from his mirror. All he sees when he finally stands in front of it and looks at it is his reflection. Nothing strange or off about it. It smiles when he smiles, moves when he moves, and the room behind it looks just like his. So he does his thing. Adjusts any plates that need adjusting, fixes his gloves, re-styles his hair. It’s all going well; even if his reflection seems a bit slow with responding to him suddenly.
Wait. What?
His hands stop their hair ministrations, falling to his sides as his “reflection” grins and continues fixing his hair.
“Don’t let me stop you, darling. We were both doing so well, after all.”
The Real Mettaton gapes, stunned and unmoving as his Mirror reaches out and gently tucks a stray piece of hair on his face behind his ear. “It’s best to move that. We don’t want our beautiful eyes to be covered.”
Mettaton lets out a strangled yell, pulling himself away just before his Mirror’s hands, gentle and soft when they initially reached, now with his fingers clawed and outstretched, grab at his neck. He stumbles backwards, knocking over one of his tables and the journals on it onto the floor, tripping on them and landing on the ground as well.
“How is this happening? How is this happening???” he cries out, well and truly terrified as his Mirror takes a languid step into his room, looking around as he does.
“I’m not quite sure myself, but the Queen seems to have allowed us the freedom to walk around as we please, both Real and Mirror alike. She can be gracious like that.” He says the last part with a careless air as his attention is oddly focused on the closet for a moment.
Mettaton wants to be running, bolting for the door, anything but sprawled on the floor like his legs have lost all ability to move. But he doesn’t get what he wants, as his mirror looks away from the closet and advances on him.
“Our little truce has been nice and all, but honestly? I miss you. A lot. I want to talk to you more, BE with you more! And this event is just the time for that! This is absolutely wonderful for both of us!”
Is he trembling? Mettaton might be trembling. His mirror shakes his head, grinning like a mad man.
“You don’t have to be afraid! We’re going to be great friends, don’t you see? We won’t need anyone else in the world. Just us.”
This finally rouses something akin to courage in Mettaton’s heart, though it’s more disgruntled pettiness than anything else. “Look, I know I’m self-absorbed, but not even I could live my whole life just talking to myself all day. That’s unrealistic.”
His Mirror’s face falls, becoming more serious. “What if there was no one else who ever wanted to talk to you? What if it there was only me?”
A deep sense of dread wells up inside Mettaton, leaking out of his mouth and causing him to stutter. “L-Luckily that’s not how things are here. There are plenty of other people for me to speak to-“
His mirror pounces quickly, wrestling Mettaton down with only a small yelp from the Real as the Mirror reaches over him and stretches his arms towards the closet, where there is a small wad of fabric and rope conveniently waiting for him. “Wonderland really knows how to give you what you want," the mirror muses happily as he wrenches his real's body down. "It’s one of the nicer things about it.”
Mettaton thrashes as hard as he can, endeavoring to try and push himself- no, his Mirror- off of his body. “You bastard, how dare you touch me!!” he cries out as he tries to fight against arms that wrap like his own, circling him in. He opens his mouth to say something more scathing, something more dramatic and interesting, but it becomes an angry muffled yell when his Mirror stuffs the gag into his mouth, tying it around his head and shoving his face into the carpet as he makes quick work of tying Mettaton’s arms and legs together.
When his work is complete, Mettaton’s Mirror grins proudly. “Now, I know this is a bit uncomfortable, but the thing is that you can’t be trusted. So I’m going to go out and take care of some things. When I come back, you and I are going to have a chat about your plans to stay here in Wonderland forever. It’s going to be riveting, I promise.”
He rolls his Real under his bed, chuckling at the muffled screams and curses that float out from underneath it. “I’ll be back soon, sweetheart. Don’t hurt yourself while I’m gone~!”
He stands up then, dusting himself off a bit, fixing his hair and boots and adjusting his gloves so that he looks in tip top shape. Without any further glances behind him, Mettaton’s Mirror walks out into the hall, intent on ruining everyone and anyone’s good opinion of Mettaton.
((OOC: Wanna run into Mirror Mettaton? Wanna rescue Real Mettaton? Here’s a place to do it! Just mention it in subject who you want and I’ll get the ball rolling! Want to interact with Mettaton or his Mirror but this post doesn’t strike your fancy? That’s fine! I’ll be posting top levels for them for the various other parties and mingles set after this debacle. Mettaton’s getting out from under that bed regardless of if he’s rescued or not.))
Where: Mettaton’s Room and then the rest of Wonderland!
When: September 1st (backdated shhh)
Rating: PG-13 but will probably go higher because Mirrors, am I right?
Summary: Mirror Mettaton has been DYING to get his hands on his real for awhile now. Real Mettaton has no idea that this is a thing and consequently suffers for it.
The Story:
It’s a usual day for Mettaton. Wake up, check his systems, run diagnostics, decide on an outfit (or not), then touch up anything on his body that might not be up to his standard. Despite those last few parts hinging on using his full-body mirror, he’s not too worried about it. His mirror and he have a deal, after all. They help each other look good and then carry on with their days, with the mirror covered in a beautiful white throw blanket after that. (They decided together what kind of thing would cover it.) All in all, it’s typical.
Until he finds an invitation to a house party on his bedside desk and he goes to his mirror for his routine. It’s not immediate to him that the glass has been removed from his mirror. All he sees when he finally stands in front of it and looks at it is his reflection. Nothing strange or off about it. It smiles when he smiles, moves when he moves, and the room behind it looks just like his. So he does his thing. Adjusts any plates that need adjusting, fixes his gloves, re-styles his hair. It’s all going well; even if his reflection seems a bit slow with responding to him suddenly.
Wait. What?
His hands stop their hair ministrations, falling to his sides as his “reflection” grins and continues fixing his hair.
“Don’t let me stop you, darling. We were both doing so well, after all.”
The Real Mettaton gapes, stunned and unmoving as his Mirror reaches out and gently tucks a stray piece of hair on his face behind his ear. “It’s best to move that. We don’t want our beautiful eyes to be covered.”
Mettaton lets out a strangled yell, pulling himself away just before his Mirror’s hands, gentle and soft when they initially reached, now with his fingers clawed and outstretched, grab at his neck. He stumbles backwards, knocking over one of his tables and the journals on it onto the floor, tripping on them and landing on the ground as well.
“How is this happening? How is this happening???” he cries out, well and truly terrified as his Mirror takes a languid step into his room, looking around as he does.
“I’m not quite sure myself, but the Queen seems to have allowed us the freedom to walk around as we please, both Real and Mirror alike. She can be gracious like that.” He says the last part with a careless air as his attention is oddly focused on the closet for a moment.
Mettaton wants to be running, bolting for the door, anything but sprawled on the floor like his legs have lost all ability to move. But he doesn’t get what he wants, as his mirror looks away from the closet and advances on him.
“Our little truce has been nice and all, but honestly? I miss you. A lot. I want to talk to you more, BE with you more! And this event is just the time for that! This is absolutely wonderful for both of us!”
Is he trembling? Mettaton might be trembling. His mirror shakes his head, grinning like a mad man.
“You don’t have to be afraid! We’re going to be great friends, don’t you see? We won’t need anyone else in the world. Just us.”
This finally rouses something akin to courage in Mettaton’s heart, though it’s more disgruntled pettiness than anything else. “Look, I know I’m self-absorbed, but not even I could live my whole life just talking to myself all day. That’s unrealistic.”
His Mirror’s face falls, becoming more serious. “What if there was no one else who ever wanted to talk to you? What if it there was only me?”
A deep sense of dread wells up inside Mettaton, leaking out of his mouth and causing him to stutter. “L-Luckily that’s not how things are here. There are plenty of other people for me to speak to-“
His mirror pounces quickly, wrestling Mettaton down with only a small yelp from the Real as the Mirror reaches over him and stretches his arms towards the closet, where there is a small wad of fabric and rope conveniently waiting for him. “Wonderland really knows how to give you what you want," the mirror muses happily as he wrenches his real's body down. "It’s one of the nicer things about it.”
Mettaton thrashes as hard as he can, endeavoring to try and push himself- no, his Mirror- off of his body. “You bastard, how dare you touch me!!” he cries out as he tries to fight against arms that wrap like his own, circling him in. He opens his mouth to say something more scathing, something more dramatic and interesting, but it becomes an angry muffled yell when his Mirror stuffs the gag into his mouth, tying it around his head and shoving his face into the carpet as he makes quick work of tying Mettaton’s arms and legs together.
When his work is complete, Mettaton’s Mirror grins proudly. “Now, I know this is a bit uncomfortable, but the thing is that you can’t be trusted. So I’m going to go out and take care of some things. When I come back, you and I are going to have a chat about your plans to stay here in Wonderland forever. It’s going to be riveting, I promise.”
He rolls his Real under his bed, chuckling at the muffled screams and curses that float out from underneath it. “I’ll be back soon, sweetheart. Don’t hurt yourself while I’m gone~!”
He stands up then, dusting himself off a bit, fixing his hair and boots and adjusting his gloves so that he looks in tip top shape. Without any further glances behind him, Mettaton’s Mirror walks out into the hall, intent on ruining everyone and anyone’s good opinion of Mettaton.
((OOC: Wanna run into Mirror Mettaton? Wanna rescue Real Mettaton? Here’s a place to do it! Just mention it in subject who you want and I’ll get the ball rolling! Want to interact with Mettaton or his Mirror but this post doesn’t strike your fancy? That’s fine! I’ll be posting top levels for them for the various other parties and mingles set after this debacle. Mettaton’s getting out from under that bed regardless of if he’s rescued or not.))
no subject
He follows the man, sliding down to join him against the wall. Mettaton had been vaguely worried that returning to his room after this debacle with his mirror would leave a sour taste in his mouth, but this promises to replace that memory with a better one.
"You've just asked the million dollar question. I love talking about me!"
He chuckles a bit and then thinks.
"To start off, I was and am a celebrity back home. Both on the Surface and in the Underground, when that was still a thing. Before coming here I was on a tour bus heading to my biggest performance ever in New York City. Your turn!"
That's a simple thing to start off with, right?
no subject
“What kind of celebrity?”
Mettaton had said tour bus and performance, so Bucky can make a guess, but he’d rather get confirmation.
“It’s too bad you didn’t make it to New York. You could’ve stopped over in Brooklyn.” It’s his turn to share now, but he struggles to pick a starting point. “That’s where I’m from.”
“Back home I was a soldier. I was never really anything other than that.”
no subject
"A musician, mostly, but I was breaking into acting and other aspects of the media. In the Underground, I was the media. Every bit of news, shows, entertainment, was all run by me. It was a bit of a shock coming to the Surface."
Not having everything under your thumb was an odd feeling. If he had to compare it to anything, it was like having the rug pulled out from under you.
"Brooklyn? How nice! I've heard of that place."
So he was a part of the military? That explains Bucky's general demeanor, though Mettaton's only frame of reference for what a soldier does is related to their Royal Guard to the king which didn't do any real fighting.
"A soldier? Why did you become that?"
no subject
Bucky had never been in a position of that kind of control or power before, but he knows what it feels like to have it taken away from him. If he were in Mettaton’s shoes, he’d have tried to get it back somehow.
“There was a war. Wanted to do my part.”
At first, it was why he’d joined up. Bucky had wanted to fight for his country and have adventure. He wanted to see the world and be a part of something special. He’d been young, and while he doesn’t regret the choice to join the army, there’s parts after that he’d give up if he could.
“Don’t really know what I’m gonna do now.”
no subject
He gives Bucky a flirtatious wink. He's slowly reclaiming the power he had Underground on the Surface, but it's slow going and will never truly amount to what he had then. Shaping an entire fraction of culture around his image was more special than he ever realized.
A mention of a war gives him pause. "A war, hm? Was it against other humans or against... something else?"
He lets the question hang in the air, vagueness intact. Bucky has never made mention of there being Monsters in his world, has never acted like anything to do with Monsters is familiar, but the only war Mettaton has ever known about was the one between humans and Monsters fought that resulted in them being trapped Underground to rot away.
He's sure that is not the war Bucky was in, but the clarification would make him feel better.
"Well, you could do anything you wanted to do, now that you're no longer involved in all of that. Granted, you are trapped here in Wonderland for the time being, but this place provides its own set of freedoms... so long as you disregard the whole 'trapped' part."
no subject
People who thought they could do whatever they wanted to whoever they wanted. Back then, part of him had desired somewhere to belong. To be some place that he had a purpose. He'd been good at being a soldier, even before HYDRA, and now, yeah, he's not so sure what he wants to be.
"'M not so sure what that even is."
He leans slightly to the side, tucking one of his legs up under the other. It's hard for him to relax even with just the two of them, but he's giving it his all.
"Was never good at anything else."
It's not self-depreciating, not the way he says or thinks of it. He'd had odd jobs growing up, construction and labor, wherever he could earn a quick buck. Then he'd been in the war. Then HYDRA. He had no idea where to start.
no subject
"Then I'd say you're in a very special place where you get to figure out what that is for the first time! The world is your oyster, to use that worn out cliche. Who knows what secret talents you have hidden?"
Mindlessly Mettaton allows himself to lean his shoulder against Bucky's, settling in and getting more comfortable by the moment. He thinks he should be worried about what his mirror is doing out there, but it's easy to forget his troubles in such handsome company.
"Even if you don't have any talents, you still have the opportunity to do something just because you love it. You also have the bonus of having me around! So you will have a plethora of ideas for things to try out."