[Ah, there it is again: that inherent shame of any sort of supernatural abilities. If he hadn't seen how bent out of shape it made him in Woodhurst, this sudden modesty would be taking him by surprise.
Instead, Mettaton just laughs and shakes his head, gently nudging the door closed behind himself with a heel.]
Sweetheart. Honeysuckle. Light of my life.
I spent years of my life living as a sentient box. My creator is a giant lizard in a lab-coat and glasses. My sound-mixer is a ghost and my back-up singer is a fish. My biggest fan and his brother are both skeletons. Our royal couple were large goats. So long as you don't look like this, [he projects a gray image to the side of his head. It's hideous. It's lumpy and misshapen and has the air of a creature that would demand constant free-rides and never pitch in for the gas.
no subject
Instead, Mettaton just laughs and shakes his head, gently nudging the door closed behind himself with a heel.]
Sweetheart. Honeysuckle. Light of my life.
I spent years of my life living as a sentient box. My creator is a giant lizard in a lab-coat and glasses. My sound-mixer is a ghost and my back-up singer is a fish. My biggest fan and his brother are both skeletons. Our royal couple were large goats. So long as you don't look like this, [he projects a gray image to the side of his head. It's hideous. It's lumpy and misshapen and has the air of a creature that would demand constant free-rides and never pitch in for the gas.
It's Jerry.]
...We'll be fine.