Ten thousands lights come blazing down with razor sharp precision ♪

[aghostinthemachine]

[Whatever is that oversaturated ego leaking from the cracks of the castle door? It almost creates a spotlight effect, the dust in the castle making it look like smoke is rolling through the room. Who is creating this powerful aura? Why, it's everyone's favorite(?) Underground super star! The door finally bursts open and a shapely leg clad in a pink high heeled boot steps through, followed by the rest of the fabulous robot, noodly arms wrapped around several pink suitcases.

Why would anyone want to vacation in a place like this? Who knows. No one knows how Mettaton's brain works. Sometimes even he himself doesn't know.

Of course, he's expecting this to be like a hotel and calls out for the staff that does not exist:]

Yoohoooo~ Anyone home? I'm looking to rent a room! Your best room.

[You can either help him out, inform him that he's very much mistakened, or find him later on once he's settled in, if there happens to be a parlour or a library.]

Comments

*Youngster used Confuse.

[voidster]

This is a skeleton with actual clothing on, not black and white goo shaped to look like a labcoat, sweater, and pants. This is a skeleton not yet fallen.

And very nearly startled out of his clothes when a glittering robot comes out of that door. (Ain't no skin, see.)

"✡⚐✞📬 ✡⚐✞🕯☼☜ ☠⚐❄📫📫✌☟☟📬" It always takes him a moment to switch from one way of speech to the more difficult and unnatural one, the one that'll actually be understood. He didn't mean to Wingding it up, but these things happen when startled. "Not. Exactly a h-hotel."

It's super effective!

[aghostinthemachine]

[Mettaton beams happily when he sees the familiar skeleton, at least until he notices he's less goopey and speaking very oddly. He blinks in confusion, about to respond when Gaster manages to speak normally. The older monster gets a quick look over and a slightly nervous smile.]

Then I've been misinformed...? How dreadful! And here I was all ready to take a vacation...

[He pauses.]

You look...

[Handsome? Ravishing? Put together?]

... different, Gaster darling.

[voidster]

What the dickens. Is this person a monster? How do they know him?? Why is he their darling??? What question does he start with???? He's staring for almost three whole seconds, a long time for thoughts to pop up and vanish again. Such is his shock that his mouth is hanging open a bit.

"You kna--know me? You are a monster, correct?"

Please don't let this be something else as surreal as his son being his brother in some other timeline. Please.

[mediadarling]

Mettaton freezes, a pile of children's clothing in his arms. He knows that voice.

Of course he knows that voice: it's his.

Has that awful fake finally lost it? Or...if this is another him, he'd better be more like a real Mettaton (AKA himself) and less like that copy.

"Sorry, darling," he calls back as he strides toward the voice. "The best room is taken. But you can have second-best if you'd like."

[aghostinthemachine]

[The "newer" robot has never met any doubles so when he hears his own voice responding, he thinks someone's playing a joke. A rude joke, at that. Just as he's about to lay in to the impressionist, he lays eyes on his own perfect, beautiful figure strutting towards him.

He doesn't even care about the children's clothes, nor does he notice. Mettaton just stares, dumbstruck.

What. How.

He eventually leans in, attempting to inspect his doppelganger more closely. Sounds like Mettaton, looks like Mettaton, smells like Mettaton...

A hand extends up to pinch his twin's cheek.

... Feels like Mettaton.

How is this even possible? Is this a dream? He withdraws his hand, standing in silence for a moment as he tries to think of something, anything, to say.]

... Is this a joke or am I dreaming?

[mediadarling]

[Mettaton puts up with the examination, although he wrinkles his nose at the cheek-pinching. He already polished once today; he doesn't want to have to do it again if you smudge him, other Mettaton.

Once the other Mettaton is done, he...almost puts his hand on his hip, but then he remembers his arms are full. And so he pops said hip instead.]

Neither, although I certainly wish it were a dream.

[Or at least these last few weeks. He's never been so stressed in his life.]

What this actually is, is a long story. Care to come with me to somewhere a little more comfortable?

[collectyourfriends]

[What.]

[Enjoy a tiny--four or five years old, maybe?--Frisk holding a weird green dog, just staring.]

[aghostinthemachine]

[While they're a little smaller than he remembers Frisk, he's still happy to see them. He beams down at the child, assuming the monster next to it is just that.]

Frisk, sweet heart! I didn't know you were here!

[collectyourfriends]

[He's a very tall robot, after all.]

[Frisk twists their head. (They haven't got that name yet.) Is he talking to someone behind them?]

...what? No. We're strangers.

[pleasereset]

[Asriel freezes at the voice. He recognizes it all right - he's run into Mettaton before. One that was a lot more shaken up by something, but this time it looks like he's... on a vacation?]

... Uhm, I'm not sure you can rent rooms here.

[aghostinthemachine]

[The robot looks down at Asriel, and while he doesn't know who he is exactly, he recognizes his species. So it's easy to guess that this boy is part of the royal family. Best to be on his best behavior.]

Oh? Then what sort of place is this?

walk walk fashion baby

[itstheend]

Chara's close enough to hear the call. Ugh, they think. Drama king, they also think, utterly unaware of the irony of this. They roll their eyes and head in the opposite direction.

They can't avoid him forever though, it seems because later, in the library, they come across him, and snap shut the book they're holding loud enough to echo even in the odd acoustics.

Time to cut to the chase and begin the verbal jousting. Time to cleanse their palate of their past self some.

*C'mon, Chara, be nice?

They'll be nice when they're dead. Frisk gives a mental shrug.

*Worth a try.

"Strange to see you in a library," they casually open with, slotting the book (incorrectly) back into a shelf and straightening it. "Such dusty places as they are. One would think you would not want to tarnish your precious hair."

Implying it wasn't pristine worked last time, why not go for the same button?

Work it move that bitch crazy 8D

[aghostinthemachine]

[This child looks like Frisk but it's clear from the tone of voice that they are most certainly not them. He raises an eyebrow and places his hands on his hips, pursing his lips slightly. Best to assume this is just some human that knows about him from his Surface Tour.]

I have plenty of product to fix that. Besides, what better way to catch up on proper human history than in a library?

But if you're truly worried about my physical state, you could always be a sweet heart and dust everything off for me~

[You'll have to try harder to insult this one, Chara.]

[itstheend]

[*Human history or 'human history'?
Frisk wonders. Chara doesn't get this reference, and doesn't care to.]

Dust you, you say? Well, I can certainly oblige.

[They take out the knife stored in their sweater and hold it casually loosely. This sure went from bickering to threat extremely fast. They smile.]

Just say the word.

you posted to the perfect event

[trombones]

What kind of hotel hires babies? Apparently, this one. There's a three-year-old skeleton monster who can just barely stick his head out from behind a table near the door, which could very well be a lobby.

"Hi!" Tiny bony hands reach as far as they can (not far) and eagerly slap the table. Dust bursts from the worn, unused surface as little Sans offers a wide grin. "Okay! You can rent a room forrrrrrrrr..." Give him a second. He's got to think about it. He's literally a toddler. "Three bazillion G!"

What a tiny swindler.

8D

[aghostinthemachine]

Hello, darli-

[Is. That. ... Sans? No, it wouldn't be. Far too young. But it certainly sounds like a... smaller version of him.

Regardless of their identity, they're positively adorable. Mettaton grins and leans towards the tiny skeleton, hands resting on his hips.]

Hmmmm. Don't you happen to have a discount for celebrities?

[trombones]

Uhm.

[Sans has to think about that. He's not good at keeping with his own silly spins yet. And even though he knows they're pretending, Mettaton also asks a good question. IS he a celebrity? His perma-grin falters slightly, and you can see the wheels turning behind his squinting sockets.

Then it comes to him, and he lights up all over again.]

That's the discount. [He nods sagely, like yes. Perfect. That's a good one.] 'Sides, I never ever heard of you!

[He beams. You're on his d-list, I guess??]

[demonthatcomes]

[Typically Chara wouldn't bother, except Mettaton's loud entrance startled the birds in the aviary. Chara grumbles and comes out, wondering what the ruckus could be this time. They see Mettaton standing with the suitcases and frown. Two were enough to deal with--especially since one of them is a king--and this one is clearly new.]

I'm sorry to disappoint you, but this is a castle, not a hotel. You're going to have a tough time finding a room here.

[They're more grumpy about the birds if anything.]

[aghostinthemachine]

[The robot purses his lips, obviously upset about this misunderstanding. He doesn't even notice Chara's being grumpy.]

I've been had!

[A pause.]

But even if this isn't a hotel, it is a castle. Surely there's a room available for me. Are you the bellboy?

[demonthatcomes]

[Yep, better break it to him. Chara's frown is unchanged.]

There is no bellboy. Or servants, for that matter. Everything here is operated by a force we can't see. You can try keeping a room, but the doors are randomized and makes it impossible to find anything in here. Nothing is in the same place for long. If you want shelter, you're better off sleeping outside, like I do. It saves me the frustration of getting lost inside the castle. But if you want to try opening every single door to see if it's an unoccupied bedroom and not a dungeon, go ahead. I can't stop you.

[darkerstripes]

[Toshi is reading when he hears the dramatic entrance. Hard not to, with how loud Mettaton is. It doesn't make sense, though.

He looks up from his book with a puzzled expression. Who rents a room here? Is Mettaton practicing for a new play? Still puzzled, he closes the book around a finger and opens the door he thinks leads to the foyer where he heard the entrance happen.

Suit.... cases?]

Mettaton, what are you doing?

[aghostinthemachine]

[Upon hearing his name he looks over at Toshi, lips curling into a feline-like smile and his eyes wide with confusion. He simply blinks a few times, wondering if this man is a fan of his or something. Or. Perhaps he's hotel staff? Yes, that must be it.]

I'm checking in, darling. I was told this was a hotel. And since you already know who I am, surely you have a room available for me, yes?

[darkerstripes]

[The moment Mettaton starts to blink at him, rather than reacting in many of the normal ways he would to greet Toshi, he starts to feel something painful grind in his gears. He grits his teeth and holds it back. It's pretty obvious now, that he is not being recognized.

Just what he needs, more memory altering bullshit.]

Ah, unfortunately you are a bit misinformed, sir. This is not a hotel, but a floating castle. It 'borrows' people from all sorts of times and places and has other strange supernatural phenomena. I know your name because we have met before.

[He looks apologetic, more than anything.]

well, this'll be fun

[mettaton_rex]

There is indeed a library. And a ghost in that library who's trying to lift a fairly heavy book on The Arte of the Theatre down from a shelf, when he's suddenly distracted by the arrival of the most beautiful person he's ever seen.

There ought to be music playing. A gentle breeze playing through the newcomer's hair in slow motion. But there's just a loud thud, as the book phases out of his grip and drops to the floor.

mwuahahahah

[aghostinthemachine]

[There might be music playing. Who knows. It's Mettaton. But the thud from the book catches his attention and he casts his gaze over to the ghost. For a moment, he thinks it's Blooky and his face lights up.]

Bl-

[But... no. It's not them. While the cousins might be identical at first glance, every one has a minor feature that sets them apart from each other. Blooky's constant distraught expression. Dummy's eyebrows. And his eyelashes... which is what that ghost has.

He's already met a double of himself. To meet his younger self is... He's got a knot in his stomach and his expression falters for a moment. It's not that he finds his ghost self disgusting. It's just... still a touchie subject for him. He swallows, attempting to recollect himself, then offers his ghost-self his best charming smile.]

Well, hello there, darling. You... seem to have dropped your book.