The way Mettaton's eyes widen at the sight of the gun should tell Adam all he needs to know. It's the second real gun he's ever seen, he thinks, irrelevantly in his terror. And the first one he's certain has actual bullets in it. He has 9 DEF. In the hands of someone with that much LOVE, it'd be a one-shot kill.
But there are worse fates than temporary death, it turns out. Such as whatever the human plans to do to him with those 'few tools'.
...what he seems to think he has a perfect right to do. Can I trust you, as if there's any chance in hell that Mettaton will follow along compliantly and let himself be mutilated.
Who does he think he is?
Mettaton feels his temper flaring and embraces it, welcomes it, surging fury pushing aside the sickening, paralysing fear. He may not have much pride in himself left any more, but he's not going to sit here and take this.
"Well. Aren't you charming." His tone is icy, and he glares venomously at the human as he gets to his feet. "If we're taking this elsewhere, let me slip into something more comfortable."
And on that note, he reaches back and flips the switch, transforming into classic form with a puff of smoke and a ripping of fabric (and oh yes, making him ruin that suit is going on Fake Barnaby's list of offences, too). He's not invulnerable like this, not anymore, but he can still put up a fight.
...unless he gets shot before he's finished transforming, that is.
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But there are worse fates than temporary death, it turns out. Such as whatever the human plans to do to him with those 'few tools'.
...what he seems to think he has a perfect right to do. Can I trust you, as if there's any chance in hell that Mettaton will follow along compliantly and let himself be mutilated.
Who does he think he is?
Mettaton feels his temper flaring and embraces it, welcomes it, surging fury pushing aside the sickening, paralysing fear. He may not have much pride in himself left any more, but he's not going to sit here and take this.
"Well. Aren't you charming." His tone is icy, and he glares venomously at the human as he gets to his feet. "If we're taking this elsewhere, let me slip into something more comfortable."
And on that note, he reaches back and flips the switch, transforming into classic form with a puff of smoke and a ripping of fabric (and oh yes, making him ruin that suit is going on Fake Barnaby's list of offences, too). He's not invulnerable like this, not anymore, but he can still put up a fight.
...unless he gets shot before he's finished transforming, that is.