[He can't help it - he lets out a laugh at that, though it's not a happy one. It's just an "oh, that's the way things are" kind of laugh.]
Is this what we're going to do, then? Stand here and refuse to show each other our cards?
[Like some kind of Mexican standoff, like in the movies. They're pointing guns at each other and refusing to put them down until the other one does so first. They're both threatened, vulnerable. Putting the guns down means that they won't hurt each other, but how are they sure? How can they take the chance that the other won't shoot them in the head when they lower their own weapon?]
[Though...Keats has been showing him card after card, lowering his weapon an inch, a couple inches, over and over again. Here's my abilities. Here's my name. Here's what I was investigating. Look, here's what I look like when I transform. I'm trusting you because I have the hope you won't use it against me.]
[But Mettaton? He looks at him and realizes, suddenly, that he doesn't know much at all about the robot that's standing across from him.]
[Mettaton has been tearing his barriers down bit by bit, but the robot man himself is still very much in shadow.]
We're not going to get anywhere like this, Mettaton. [Because they're stubborn, the both of them, unwilling to do anything but stand their ground.] Look at us. What does this do, make us feel better about ourselves?
[He sighs.]
...
What do I have to do to get you to trust me? [He feels a very constricted feeling in his chest.] Explain everything?
[Does he want to throw down his metaphorical weapons in hope of the slim chance that Mettaton won't shoot him when he's unable to protect himself?]
Because I will do it, I will try to, because maybe gaining your trust is worth doing that, but...are you ready for that?
[He stares into Mettaton's eyes, his own glowing, mouth drawn in a serious line.]
Do you want to really know me because you really do want to get to know me, or are you doing it because you're simply curious?
no subject
Is this what we're going to do, then? Stand here and refuse to show each other our cards?
[Like some kind of Mexican standoff, like in the movies. They're pointing guns at each other and refusing to put them down until the other one does so first. They're both threatened, vulnerable. Putting the guns down means that they won't hurt each other, but how are they sure? How can they take the chance that the other won't shoot them in the head when they lower their own weapon?]
[Though...Keats has been showing him card after card, lowering his weapon an inch, a couple inches, over and over again. Here's my abilities. Here's my name. Here's what I was investigating. Look, here's what I look like when I transform. I'm trusting you because I have the hope you won't use it against me.]
[But Mettaton? He looks at him and realizes, suddenly, that he doesn't know much at all about the robot that's standing across from him.]
[Mettaton has been tearing his barriers down bit by bit, but the robot man himself is still very much in shadow.]
We're not going to get anywhere like this, Mettaton. [Because they're stubborn, the both of them, unwilling to do anything but stand their ground.] Look at us. What does this do, make us feel better about ourselves?
[He sighs.]
...
What do I have to do to get you to trust me? [He feels a very constricted feeling in his chest.] Explain everything?
[Does he want to throw down his metaphorical weapons in hope of the slim chance that Mettaton won't shoot him when he's unable to protect himself?]
Because I will do it, I will try to, because maybe gaining your trust is worth doing that, but...are you ready for that?
[He stares into Mettaton's eyes, his own glowing, mouth drawn in a serious line.]
Do you want to really know me because you really do want to get to know me, or are you doing it because you're simply curious?