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[When the feed clicks on, Mettaton is at the camera, perfectly poised and smiling wide.]

Hello, Wonderland! Sorry for that little hiccup earlier!

[He fluffs his hair a bit, which definitely looks disheveled; an unusual deviation from his usual picture perfect looks.]

I had a small incident with Wonderland's local dream demon BUT! There's no need to fear, darlings, because your strong, amazing hero Mettaton repelled the evil doer! Wonderland is safe and so are the rest of you!

[He smiles, though it falters for just a brief second before he continues.]

Now, let's put this silly incident behind us, shall we? There's no need to worry about any of these shenanigans or torment yourself with worry over me (unless you want to, of course! ♥). I'm sure you'll see my shining face on the network sometime in the future again (minus any and all unauthorized uses of my brand) so I shall let you all return to your daily lives. Bye, darlings~!

[He pauses for a moment, blinks, and then hurriedly gives a cutesy wave and wink to the camera, though it's clear his heart isn't in it. The feed ends there.]

((ooc: Mettaton may respond to network responses but it will probably be sporadic due to the fact that he's feeling really rough right now. For anyone wanting to personally come and check on him, the door will have many latches and locks and Mettaton will not be opening his door for anyone other than close CR, if that. But he's fine. Absolutely fine! Totally.))

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[Ford has to remind himself that perhaps this is what dealing with him was like not all that long ago. He pinches the bridge of his nose.]

No, it isn't all done. I am ready and willing to shoot your door off its hinges. It's imperative that we talk.

[A beat.]

... You actually leveled with me on the network on Valentine's Day, so I know you're capable of sincerity. And anyway, Alphys wouldn't program someone without that ability. So could we please talk?

I'm sure you don't want to, and I can't blame you for that, but it'll help.

...

You don't have to deal with Bill alone.

[Mettaton glowers at the door at Ford's threat.]

Imperative, hm? And who decided this? You?

[He looks away at the mention of Valentine's day, back towards the mirror he has next to him. He's ready and willing to slide it away under the nearby dresser if need be.]

Are you sure that wasn't a mistake? Perhaps it was a glitch in my programming that caused me to be more sincere that day than others.

[He says it bitterly. He wraps an arm around himself, pulling his body closer. Real. Metal. His.]

...Why do you even want to talk to me? I'm an idiot, remember? There's no point.

[No point. Go away. Don't come near. Let him be with the one person in his life who won't ever let him down.]

I decided it was imperative, because I know what it's like--being betrayed. I know what Bill likes to do--he wants to isolate and control. [Ford sighs, stewing in his own bitterness.]

Don't be an ass. Basically everyone who isn't me is an idiot, and even I can admit I've done some very stupid things. [Ford, try something else...?]

I-- ... Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you while you were fighting Bill. The whole point is that you're important to Alphys and ... I appreciate that moment you called me out on my nonsense.

... So now I'm returning the favor. Shutting yourself in your room and pretending what just happened didn't isn't going to magically make things better.

[Mettaton scoffs.]

You say that like he dragged me along like he did you. No, this was nothing like that.

[It was just a terrible leap, a horrible sensation, a loss of control and of who he is as a result of knowingly continuing the friendship like an idiot.

He feels like he's drowning. He needs... he needs his mirror. He needs him, needs that grounding force, those comforting words scrawled across glass.

But. Ford might burst in. And Ford would certainly not be polite enough not to mention it.]

....If I let you in, will you say your piece and then leave me alone?

[There's a long, lingering pause.]

...

Don't ever assume you know anything about what happened between Bill and me. I'm doing this as a courtesy to you and while I don't expect thanks, you should at least save your self pity for when I'm not here.

So, yes--I'll say my bit and leave, if you decide to be honest with me.

[Geez Ford, aren't you a charmer!

Mettaton goes to stand up and for a moment, one horrible moment, he thinks someone else told him to do it. That some other presence in his body made it move to full height and he feels sick, his body wobbling. He bumps into his dresser and it makes a low clattering sound. Mettaton grips it for a moment, trembling.

Calm. Be calm. You're you. He's not here. He's not in your body. He gently nudges the mirror under his dresser. He'll apologize to him later.

After another moment of feeling himself settle into his body, he walks forward. He reaches out a hand to the latches and he begins to undo them, one by one. The sound of metal undoing metal is almost calming. His hands listen to his commands. There is no resistance. Just the familiar thrum of magic through his body, uninterrupted.

The door opens with relative ease after the last lock is undone and Mettaton... doesn't initially meet Ford's eyes. There are tear streaks down his metal face and his hair looks, frankly, awful. He doesn't care. Hell, if it makes Ford leave faster, all the better.

He finally raises his eyes to look at Ford and steps aside.]

Come in.

[No fanfare. No smiles. Just a drawn, neutral face.]

[Ford wonders what Mettaton is getting up to behind the door, but he tells himself to be patient.

To Ford's surprise, the door finally opens to a disheveled robot. He's not shocked that anyone would look like hell after possession by Bill, but Mettaton always seems so put together. At least on the surface.

He doesn't judge the lack of eye contact. Instead, he just holds out a bouquet of six bright, hot pink roses, courtesy of one of the closets.]

... It's not a romantic gesture, but you gave me flowers once and I know you like pink, so...

[...]

Yes.

[Too much? He doesn't know what other people want to have as sympathy gifts. "Sorry you got possessed" cards aren't standard fare the last he checked.]

[There's a moment of silence as Mettaton stares dumbly at the flowers Ford is holding out. Their color is so bright and vivid and Mettaton can't look away.

He got him flowers. Because he gave him flowers. It's not romantic but it's a show of compassion and sympathy and care and the tears are slipping down his face again as he reaches out and takes them. He shakes a little as he holds them close.

Oh. He's crying. It took him a few seconds to realize. He moves the bouquet to shield his face a little as he turns to go put them next to another bouquet of flowers that has been sitting quietly on a bedside table for months.

He doesn't look back at Stanford for a moment, collecting himself.]

...Thank you. I. I appreciate that. And this.

[This being showing up at all. He doesn't know how to begin to broach the subject hanging in the air.]

[That wasn't the reaction Ford expected, but once he's had his moment of surprise, he folds his hands at his back and glances off to the side. It'd be rude to call attention to the tears, and Ford isn't self deprecating enough to go on about how getting him to cry wasn't his intent.

At Metta's words though, there's a little relief.]

It's no problem. Really. May I have a seat? There are a few things you need to know--some good, and some bad, and fortunately the good things are in direct relation to you!

I know you must be exhausted, so I'll try to be to the point. Thank you... for letting me in.

[Mettaton waves an errant hand to one of the seats in his room. He doesn't quite trust himself to turn around yet so he waits for another moment before finally turning to face Ford. One of his hands holds onto the bedside table for dear life. It grounds him.]

Well. I'm sure you're dying to tell me whatever it is you need to tell me, so. Go right on ahead.

[Ford goes to sit, and when he does he produces Journal 3. He doesn't open it, however, and just rests it on his knee.]

... There was a time I thought Bill was a friend. I made my deal until the end of time. He had free access to my mind and we would communicate when I meditated to help me focus on my work.

When I learned I was just a pawn, I vowed to stop him from tearing open a hole in my dimension so he could wreak havoc and inevitably destroy it. I was devastated, but our deal was still in place. He used my body and mind like a living meat puppet, and the affects his possessions had on me were... awful.

[Ford opens the journal and flips to a page splattered with dried blood.] I had extreme pains in my eye. Eventually, it started to bleed profusely. There were times when I wouldn't sleep for days. [He sighs. Getting all this off his chest with someone he doesn't entirely trust is a huge risk. He hopes it will be worth it.]

Bill was everything to me, and I was just a stupid pawn. He destroyed me mentally and wore me like a cheap suit. He isolated me, whispered that my family didn't care about me, planted hints and implications that Fiddleford was jealous of me and plotting against me. The more I trusted him, the less I trusted everyone else--and when his plans were revealed, I was completely alone.

[He turns a few more pages to an inky black spread. The indentations of his pen scrawling through spilled ink remain, decades old. The man who screamed and cried and turned pages black with ink and blood is an entirely different man today than he was thirty years ago. But he has so many regrets.]

That was the biggest lie he told me. That I was alone, without him. It was a lie I believed even before I met him, and one I bought into like a chump until last year here in Wonderland.

[Ford looks at Mettaton, brows knit thoughtfully.]

I had already turned away from the people who cared about me the most. He took that and used me like a tool. Whatever choices you made with him-- I just wish I could have done more so you wouldn't have had to deal with him at all.

No one should have to go through that. And I'm sorry.

[Mettaton, despite himself, looks at the journal curiously where it sits on Ford's knee. Ford jumps right to the heart of things and Mettaton's eyes widen a bit as he listens.

As Ford speaks, Mettaton can feel his mind slowly slip back to Genosha. To the psychic explosion that hit him. The memories are not his but he remembers them and they play as Ford talks. It adds another level of pain to this, and Mettaton feels a bit awkward. He and Ford are not that close. But here he is, putting his laundry out to dry because... what? It'll help Mettaton?

Ford opens the journal and Mettaton walks over and dutifully looks in and concern laces his features as the story unravels before him.

The more I trusted him, the less I trusted anyone else

Why does that

Why does that feel so real? So... so close? Unwittingly, before he can stop himself, his eyes dart to his bed, where his mirror is hidden by only a few inches of cloth. It's not like that. They're not like that.

His eyes return to the journal at the sound of pages being turned and Mettaton gasps a little, reaching out a gentle hand to feel the pages. This. This looks like how he felt. How he still feels, though maybe not to the same level.

Mettaton looks up, his eyes meeting with Ford, and he's overcome with a feeling of guilt. Shame. He was right. Mettaton knows nothing about what happened between Ford and Bill and he steps away, closing himself off.]

It's not your fault. It's never been your fault.

[How silly. Mettaton has been so silly.]

I found out relatively quickly what Bill was capable of thanks to Genosha. I had seen parts of what happened to you. So I knew he was some terrible demon who didn't care for anyone but himself.

[He can't look at Ford.]

But I still talked to him. I still interacted with him. I thought, maybe, if I kept on his good side and off his radar, I could keep him away from the people I loved.

[He gives out a mirthless chuckle, bitterness filling the sound.]

Saying it like that makes me sound selfless, which isn't the case at all. That was one of the main reasons I kept talking to him, but I would be remiss to say that another one wasn't because I genuinely liked him.

[Goodness, he deserved this, didn't he? It was his own, stupid fault for caring for other people.]

You, at least, were tricked. I looked directly at a trap and still walked into it.

[He doesn't deserve Ford's sympathy. He doesn't deserve his kindness, his reaching out; he doesn't deserve any of this.]

I'm the one who should be sorry. I was a fool.

[... Is THIS what I sound like? My God... But Ford listens because that's what he's here to do--listen, and be helpful.

The strangest part of it all is that he understands very well what Mettaton's feeling--at least he's fairly certain of it. The bitterness in Mettaton's voice and the robot practically blaming himself without actually outright saying it all strike familiar chords with Ford, so much so that he can't even be irritated at the amount of self pity that would be drowning them if it was water filling the room.]

To be honest? Yes, you were. And so was I. There were warning signs all around me and I refused to listen to them. And anyway, foolishness does not excuse what Bill did to me, nor does it excuse what he did to you. Taking possession of someone's mind and body is... [Ford searches for the right words. He wants to sympathize without exposing too much of himself.] ...unforgivable.

[...] And Bill can be very likable. That's what makes him dangerous. This isn't your fault either. You may have been a little reckless, but he still hurt you. That's not your fault at all.

[Mettaton blinks a little at the blatant honesty and then a rough chuckle comes out, with more warmth than before. It's a weary smile but it's there.]

I don't know if I will be able to accept that now. But... it's good to hear.

[It'll take awhile for it to settle in but it's a good thought to have in his head.

He moves back towards Ford, taking the other seat and sitting in front of him.]

Mm, that's a good point. He can be very charming.

[It had been fun to talk to him. It was like Ford said. Reckless but there was a thrill to it, like a game of chicken.]

It's hard. To push that onto him and not... myself. For letting myself care about someone who never once lied about who he was.

[He never lied. And Mettaton never lied. They had even had a moment of civility towards the end, before Mettaton had pushed him out of his body. He still doesn't know what to think of that.]

I thought I would be safe if I made sure I never made a deal. That way he couldn't get a hold of me but... that was wrong.

[For a man made of metal, he looks so tired.]

[He still looks sympathetic, and he can appreciate that Mettaton really seems to be listening now. The only hitch is the surprise that Mettaton didn't actually make a deal.]

... You didn't make a deal, huh? That's... interesting, and worrying. It must be something to do with your magic. I'm sure Alphys will know better of course, but if that's the case, then that may be why he was able to possess you.

[--uh--] ... Sorry. Uh. [Ford clears his throat and shuts his journal.]

I still engage in conversations with him now and then. Even after he gained his physical form at home and tortured me--the thrill of having an intellectual rival always draws me back here in Wonderland. If you're a fool, you're in good company.

[Mettaton smiles ruefully.]

My body was built to house my artificial soul. It's designed to receive signals from magical stimuli here.

[He points to the container where his soul floats quietly.]

While I can't be separated from it, it seems that since it was made to be a host of some kind and would be empty without me in it, it could theoretically be filled by something else if I were put out of commission.

[It's odd to think that his body, if he were to die, could be re-built and easily allow another ghost in. Or maybe it wouldn't? It had felt like... his wires and machinery itself had been rebelling against Bill alongside his own mental machinations.

There is so much that Alphys has done that he doesn't understand. There is so much to ghosts and their anciet magic that he doesn't understand. He is a marvel and a mystery and this is the first time that has been scary for him.]

Bill might have copied that, I think. Replicated the signals I give to the rest of me and slide in there on pure energy. It wasn't a complete bind, else I wouldn't have been able to get rid of him but... he still put up a heck of a fight.

[What can he do, then? What can he possibly do to keep Bill out if this weakness is something built into him? If this weakness is literally what helps him be him?

Mettaton looks at Ford with sympathy, surprise, and dark mirth.]

I suppose the recklessness is something we have in common. Even though it was clearly a bad idea from the start, we still both went for it.

[He shakes his head and sighs.]

Fools we certainly are.

[This is... nice. This is calming. He shouldn't be talking to Ford like this, he should be pulling away but this. He didn't know he needed this.]

[Ford lets out a low bark of a laugh. It feels good though, doesn't it? Unexpectedly so. Healing always hurts, but it's worth it in the end; you feel lighter, better.

And though he'd like to examine the soul, that... seems like a highly personal request to make even under the best circumstances. Now just isn't the time.]

I've got to tell you, I'm actually impressed you managed to shake him off. I'm sure you're worried about him trying again--I'm going to be speaking with Alphys to learn more about your construction so I can come up with a ward you can carry with you. There are wards around the basement lab of mine, the kids' room and Fiddleford's, but they're for placing around parameters. At the very least I could set one up in your room. It'd keep him out entirely and you'd have a safe place to be!

[He shrugs, curls his fingers around the journal.]

Anyway, I mentioned I had good news regarding just you. I've been sitting on it for a few weeks, but only because it relates to a personal matter of my own.

[He suddenly wonders if this is a horrible idea and he'd rather be talking about Bill again.]

[Mettaton blinks for a moment, surprised. Then he smiles, looking away from Ford for a moment. He's... touched by the offer. He can't really look him in the eye while feeling such a genuine depth of emotion.

He wonders how Alphys will navigate that potential talk with Ford. He trusts that she won't reveal his secret (and her secret too) but it will more than likely be very awkward. But all the same, this is sweet.]

If you make a ward I have to carry, then you better make sure it suits my tastes, else we'll have a lot more instances of possession.

[It's a joke, a gentle tease, and a small return to his normalcy. It... doesn't sound completely right. It's delivered in a weaker way than it should be, than it would be if Mettaton was more certain of himself, but it's there.]

I would deeply appreciate the ward on the room, however. Not just for me, but for Mini too.

[Because it occurs to him that Bill could attempt to possess Mini and he will not let that happen.

Ford's next statement gets a curious eyebrow raise out of Mettaton. Perhaps he shouldn't be fine with the subject being changed but he has to admit, it promises to be a good distraction and that's something he needs in this moment.]

Oh? What is it, Ford?

[It's relieving to know there's actually something he can do.] I'll start with the ward on your room and then we'll go from there.

And as for the good news? Ah... [...that's... ooh...mm....... Ford fidgets in his seat, and he can't look directly at Mettaton.

Have some dignity, Stanford! He breaks the awkward silence by clearing his throat.]

Well. You see... Perhaps you remember those nightmares everyone had last month? One of mine wasn't exactly a nightmare, but it... certainly addressed various things I suppose I've neglected to think about since... well, my teenage years. [Ford adjusts his glasses.] I believe that talk we had on Valentine's Day actually got to me more than I would've liked to admit.

[There's a point here somewhere...] --The point is, in the dream you represented what I assume was my subconscious trying to reach out to me regarding my possible romantic feelings for others. We were on a stage, and you were trying to talk me into discussing my romantic inclinations. [Hastily he goes on--] Before you say anything, I only wanted to tell you because... [He heaves a deep sigh. Saying this out loud is like getting a root canal.]

I really appreciate the fact that you were sincere with me. You called me on my nonsense and because of that, I... may be close to discovering something about myself. Something that's good. I believe it's been difficult because of a lifetime of human cultural pressures, and never having someone actually tell me I was being a fool. [...] A fool who actually deserved the company of others.

[This... this sure is really emotional. And mushy. He scratches the back of his neck.]

I would appreciate it if you kept this under wraps. I need to talk to Alphys. She's the first person who actually thought I had a thing for... [ah... he grimaces, but the color in his cheeks says it all.]

... Well. A thing for someone.

Edited 2017-05-07 07:15 (UTC)

[It's a relief for Mettaton too, to hear that there is something that can be done. That's he's not going to be some sitting duck, waiting for the day when Bill decides to swing back into his life and turn it all upside down once more.

He's not helpless. He doesn't have to be helpless. And he will feel safe again, one day.

The look on Stanford's face is increasingly more interesting as time goes on, and Mettaton leans in just a wee bit closer.]

Go on...

[And go on he does. As Ford talks Mettaton's mouth twitches upward in a bigger and bigger smile.]

Well I'm glad that-

[He cuts himself off, surprised by the rest of Ford's words.

He. He wasn't expecting that. He wasn't expecting any humbleness on Ford's part, no outward admission of humility, no matter how small. It warms his soul, the small heart flaring out just a little. His smile softens a tad.]

I didn't realize my words had affected you so much. Or would help that much.

[He helped, didn't he? Despite it all, just being himself, he helped. Mettaton has always known that others benefit from him being around (of course) but it's nice to hear.

He'd been starting to doubt that as of late. Though... he shouldn't let this get too close to him. He can't become endeared to Ford. His mirror is probably shaking his head right now. But all the same he cannot deny that this makes him feel good. And isn't the point of a celebrity to shine a light for others anyway? ...that's what it used to feel like, at least.]

Thank you for saying that. That means a lot to hear.

[His grin pops back into mischievousness in response to the rest of Ford's words.]

Do not worry, Ford! I will not say a word. Now, I am not at all surprised that Alphys picked up on you liking someone. She is an incredibly perceptive woman.

Sooo~! Who is the lucky person to have caught your eye?

-1 to ZEZPQB BT FRESMNF IZDVZ BEFVQN GC NBVBW

[Ford's shoulders pull up and tighten at Mettaton's last question, where previously he looked relatively relaxed and even flattered that his little personal drama turning out decently really meant something to someone. He blushes and drums his fingers on his knees, looking all over the room at anything but Mettaton.]

Well. Uh. You see, it's-- Complicated. Humans are... we have... Uh, my culture teaches preconceptions about gender, and for centuries, any couple of the same sex could be imprisoned or even executed, because apparently loving someone who is your gender is "unnatural"... [He literally uses finger quotes. This is very uncomfortable.] It's gotten better recently, but-- [He clears his throat.]

It uh. It's Fiddleford. [Ford furrows his brow.] And if you tell ANYONE, I will dismantle you faster than you can say "robotics."

[THIS WAS A MISTAKE]

[It's like the entire atmosphere in the room has changed. It's lifted somehow. It's no longer as heavy. Mettaton happily and readily throws himself into someone else's life, someone else's problems, especially over love, especially over something that has a good chance of working out in the end.

He didn't realize he needed this distraction but here it is and he is more grateful for it than he really comprehends.]

Yes yes, your culture has such a bizarre way of looking at things like gender and sexuality. It's one of the few things about humanity I have come to semi-dislike.

[Which is a lot coming from, essentially, a human-aboo.

Oh, his eyes are sparkling!!! He looks SO EXCITED.]

Oh oh oh oh!!! Is it really??? How precious!! Isn't he your best friend? How romantic~!

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