I can be your hero, baby [halloween event]
Oct. 1st, 2017 10:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mettaton_rex posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
castle_perrault[warning: some memory alteration going on here, but mostly-consensual?]
Has it only been a year? Mettaton wonders, huddled up beneath silken bedsheets as the mist creeps through the castle. It's a silly, childish, hopelessly undignified thing to do, he knows. It won't stop the curse, or whatever, from finding him. It won't stop the castle from making him into whatever it wants.
He wonders how much damage he'll do this time.
Then he wonders why nothing's happening. Of course, it took a while for him to change, last time. Maybe it's another delayed reaction.
...he doesn't think he wants to be alone when it happens. If there's time, he could go and find his twin. Or get to somewhere public, at least.
He throws back the sheets. And that's when he sees the wand, lying on his dressing table, as though it's been there all along.
It's golden and glittering, a cluster of stars at the end surrounding a pink heart-shaped gem. It's about the right length to be wielded using both hands. He knows exactly what it is.
He waits for the compulsion in the back of his mind, telling him to pick it up. And waits.
There's nothing.
The sky grows light outside, and there's still nothing, and Mettaton looks down at the wand, and at his hands, and breaks into incredulous, choking laughter. "...really?" he asks the ceiling, the walls, the whole indifferent mass of stone waiting silently around him. "Really? Now you're giving me a choice?"
He could snap the stupid thing in half, stomp it into a billion glittering fragments and burn them. Part of him still remembers how good it would feel, to tear something apart because he can, reduce it to dirt beneath his boots. The other part of him feels sick at the knowledge.
But he knows, with that weird intuition castle magic sometimes grants - he can destroy it, if he wants. He can ignore it, if he wants. He can sit this month out.
...quietly. All alone. While the rest of the castle goes on without him.
...
He picks up the wand. What the hell. At least he'll know what happens. It's not as though he really wants to be himself, right now.
He strikes a pose, the wand raised high above his head. Light from the window refracts through the crystal, casting shimmering pink-tinged rainbows across the walls.
The words come to him as if he's known them all along.
"Glittering starlight, make the world's dreams come true! Love! Beauty! Freedom! OHHH YES!"
And he's swept off the ground, light streaming around him, into him, forming itself into ribbons and frills and bows, gently reshaping him -
- a deep ache of regret somewhere in the middle of it all, she would have loved this -
- and Bishounen Warrior Starlight Idol opens his eyes, and blinks a couple of times, hovering in mid-air as he looks down at himself. It's his original costume, pink and gold, glitter and lace, nothing like the spiky, blood-red outfit of his corrupted form. He - he didn't know he could still transform this way. He'd thought the wand's power was lost to him forever, after what he'd done -
- his crystal is still cracked in two. Not the one on his wand, of course - the one within the huge bow around his waist, that looks like a larger version of the other. Or should, if not for the jagged scar down its centre, with the cold, dull grey of grief and despair spreading through the gem that should be glowing vibrant pink.
But even if it's not fixed yet - maybe there's a way. He was able to transform, despite everything. There must be a reason for that.
Maybe there's someone here who needs his help.
Starlight floats down to the floor again, and steps out of the room, wand clutched tight in his hand. There's no time for stage fright, is there? The show must go on!
[Magical boy Mettaton is here to save the day! Maybe. (Icon chosen purely for sparkliness.) ETA because I realised it could probably be interpreted either way: he's still a robot. He's just Mettaton from an AU where everyone is magical girls/guys/nbs.]
Has it only been a year? Mettaton wonders, huddled up beneath silken bedsheets as the mist creeps through the castle. It's a silly, childish, hopelessly undignified thing to do, he knows. It won't stop the curse, or whatever, from finding him. It won't stop the castle from making him into whatever it wants.
He wonders how much damage he'll do this time.
Then he wonders why nothing's happening. Of course, it took a while for him to change, last time. Maybe it's another delayed reaction.
...he doesn't think he wants to be alone when it happens. If there's time, he could go and find his twin. Or get to somewhere public, at least.
He throws back the sheets. And that's when he sees the wand, lying on his dressing table, as though it's been there all along.
It's golden and glittering, a cluster of stars at the end surrounding a pink heart-shaped gem. It's about the right length to be wielded using both hands. He knows exactly what it is.
He waits for the compulsion in the back of his mind, telling him to pick it up. And waits.
There's nothing.
The sky grows light outside, and there's still nothing, and Mettaton looks down at the wand, and at his hands, and breaks into incredulous, choking laughter. "...really?" he asks the ceiling, the walls, the whole indifferent mass of stone waiting silently around him. "Really? Now you're giving me a choice?"
He could snap the stupid thing in half, stomp it into a billion glittering fragments and burn them. Part of him still remembers how good it would feel, to tear something apart because he can, reduce it to dirt beneath his boots. The other part of him feels sick at the knowledge.
But he knows, with that weird intuition castle magic sometimes grants - he can destroy it, if he wants. He can ignore it, if he wants. He can sit this month out.
...quietly. All alone. While the rest of the castle goes on without him.
...
He picks up the wand. What the hell. At least he'll know what happens. It's not as though he really wants to be himself, right now.
He strikes a pose, the wand raised high above his head. Light from the window refracts through the crystal, casting shimmering pink-tinged rainbows across the walls.
The words come to him as if he's known them all along.
"Glittering starlight, make the world's dreams come true! Love! Beauty! Freedom! OHHH YES!"
And he's swept off the ground, light streaming around him, into him, forming itself into ribbons and frills and bows, gently reshaping him -
- a deep ache of regret somewhere in the middle of it all, she would have loved this -
- and Bishounen Warrior Starlight Idol opens his eyes, and blinks a couple of times, hovering in mid-air as he looks down at himself. It's his original costume, pink and gold, glitter and lace, nothing like the spiky, blood-red outfit of his corrupted form. He - he didn't know he could still transform this way. He'd thought the wand's power was lost to him forever, after what he'd done -
- his crystal is still cracked in two. Not the one on his wand, of course - the one within the huge bow around his waist, that looks like a larger version of the other. Or should, if not for the jagged scar down its centre, with the cold, dull grey of grief and despair spreading through the gem that should be glowing vibrant pink.
But even if it's not fixed yet - maybe there's a way. He was able to transform, despite everything. There must be a reason for that.
Maybe there's someone here who needs his help.
Starlight floats down to the floor again, and steps out of the room, wand clutched tight in his hand. There's no time for stage fright, is there? The show must go on!
[Magical boy Mettaton is here to save the day! Maybe. (Icon chosen purely for sparkliness.) ETA because I realised it could probably be interpreted either way: he's still a robot. He's just Mettaton from an AU where everyone is magical girls/guys/nbs.]
(no subject)
Date: 2017-10-02 09:49 pm (UTC)Despite the time she's spent away from it all, by herself, she still recognizes him. She waves, cheery.
"Hello, Mettaton! You look quite lovely, dear-- I imagine this is more of the castle's magic?"
*resolves to be nice to kington for once* *immediately sets him up for existential crisis*
Date: 2017-10-04 08:36 pm (UTC)"Duchess? Oh my - darling, look at you! Blue is definitely your colour."
The question gives him pause. He frowns thoughtfully at the wand. "...I suppose this is the castle's doing, in a way. I didn't have this with me when I came here. At least not in the form it is now."
The idea that regaining his powers might just be the castle's idea of a Halloween costume is a disheartening thought, but he doesn't let that show on his face for too long.
(no subject)
Date: 2017-10-14 07:47 pm (UTC)"Oh, why thank you!" She covers her mouth and smiles, dipping into a playful curtsy that makes the folds of her dress ripple. "I do wonder if this has afflicted the others in this castle."
(no subject)
Date: 2017-10-18 11:34 pm (UTC)(...it feels strange, for a second. When was the last time he was silly and flirty with anyone? He hasn't been doing well at all, has he...?)
mild retconning may occur due to their currently-ongoing threads~!
Date: 2017-10-13 06:02 am (UTC)They'd ask those latter questions if they were fully themselves, no doubt, but they're not. In spite of the moonless, sunny sky above, their form isn't theirs yet again.
They're better than they once were, at least. Last night. This morning.
The wolf simply is there, standing in the shadows between the trees. Content enough, with a stomach full of impossible magic, but still not what they should be. Still watching with wary golden eyes. Still, as if there are no lungs to be filled now that the stomach is satiated.
Frisk is glad. They'd probably ruin that outfit horribly if they were empty. And there's not even anything inside worth eating--
--what an awful, ugly thought.
ok! :)
Date: 2017-10-18 02:22 pm (UTC)Those golden eyes catch his attention. He doesn't recognise them. This isn't the (small, white, annoying) canine monster he thought might be out here. But they're watching him, warily.
He smiles at them. "Hey there, gorgeous."
(no subject)
Date: 2017-10-19 09:53 am (UTC)(They certainly haven't lost memories of the muzzle Adam used.)
...And he's saying it to them.
The wolf cocks their head and rumbles. 'Flirt...' Now isn't the time. Even they know that.
(no subject)
Date: 2017-10-21 08:29 pm (UTC)(or it used to)
Of course, he won't if they don't want him to. Not if it doesn't make them feel beautiful.
Is this someone he knows, to call him on it? Someone transformed by the castle? If he'd seen them running wild and desperate with hunger, earlier, he would have assumed they were someone fallen, the one he was here to save or at least stop. But he was still only Mettaton then, hiding from the mist (he remembers, hazily) and right now, they seem in control.
"Haha. Afraid so, darling." He crouches down, to be closer to the wolf's level. His voice is softer. "Do you know me?"
(no subject)
Date: 2017-10-28 07:42 am (UTC)Well.
A compliment is a compliment. They aren't going to get upset about something so inconsequential right now.
May as well lay it out on the table. They know plenty of his secrets by now--though they're not sure exactly what he's supposed to be. There's a name for it, but...
'Yes. Frisk.'
orz I neglected this for so long sorry
Date: 2017-12-18 12:13 am (UTC)As opposed to the one he knows far too much about and only ever spoke to once.
"Is everything all right?" ...they've got good reason not to trust him, of course. Maybe it's just that.
src: the secret of kells - also np
Date: 2017-12-22 02:20 am (UTC)'No.' Blunt. It should really be obvious, being forced into a wrong body at the very least. Mettaton looks close to how he did a few days ago, give or take a few (dozen) ribbons.
...Though that crystal catches their eye, too. Looks like a broken SOUL. That's probably bad.
so late
Date: 2017-11-04 11:36 pm (UTC)What the hell is the robot doing, thinks the gigantic hypocrite, though he's been wearing fairly normal things the entire time he's been here. Pants and shirts or simple dresses--he works with what he has. (Possibly he's just biased against any and all machines thinking they're real people. Damn you creepy things.)
"What is this." he says, flatly.
same >_<
Date: 2017-11-25 12:42 am (UTC)But it's okay. It's okay. He has his powers back, now, no one can take him down that easily.
So he turns, and strikes a pose, leaving a little trail of sparkles as he twirls. "Glamour, darling."
(no subject)
Date: 2017-12-02 09:58 pm (UTC)"I am not your darling, machine." he says, venomously. Emphasis on 'your'. The gall of this fake, strutting around like it's a person and speaking to him as if they're friends.
(no subject)
Date: 2017-12-03 10:37 pm (UTC)Starlight Idol puts a hand on his hip, affronted. The undercurrent of fear that he's feeling doesn't show on his face. It'll be alright. He can take this person on, should they decide that an overly-friendly machine needs to be put in its place. He's not helpless.
...and he isn't going to - well. Go overboard.
"Clearly not." He looks Kuja up and down, icily. He wouldn't mind dropping the endearments for anyone who asked, of course, but really. "I do have a name, you know."
(no subject)
Date: 2017-12-03 11:00 pm (UTC)...Probably because Kuja scared the robot half to death the first time they 'met', and rightfully so. It should be scared, if it really can be and it isn't putting on an act.
reposted because I hecked up and it's going to bug me
Date: 2017-12-16 10:22 pm (UTC)...not the most cutting way to end that sentence, perhaps, but he realised as he was saying it that he didn't know how else to. Humans don't typically have feathers, do they? Or are those just an accessory...?
(no subject)
Date: 2017-12-16 10:28 pm (UTC)"You mean when you ran away because I looked at you funny? I suppose I can call you the cowardly construct. You can call me Kuja."
(no subject)
Date: 2017-12-16 10:57 pm (UTC)"Delighted to meet you, Kuja." There's not one drop of sincerity in his tone. "And you can call me -"
Spotlights are shining on him from nowhere, suddenly. He twirls around, glittering rainbow sparkles in his wake, finishing in a pose with one leg extended into the air, an arm looped around his wand as both his hands form a heart shape in front of him.
"Bishounen Warrior Starlight Idol, Guardian of the Underground!"
Oh, he's missed being able to do that.
(no subject)
Date: 2017-12-16 11:19 pm (UTC)He stands there and stares, regretting not being able to genuinely amused. When will he stop being so hollow inside? And the appropriate moment for faking laughter passes before he does anything. Shame.
"Has that ever impressed anyone over the age of six?"