[You don't have to point out the obvious, Frisk... Let him live his deluded life with purpose. The sun rises and sets for him, in some universe.
Picnics are idyllic and Mettaton is intrigued at the thought until a flower speaks of asking for help to make one with the assistance of someone he's never heard of. Nosy as he is, Mettaton drops his leg and leans forward with enthusiasm.]
I wouldn't protest the occasion. But who is this "Nier?" Do you know many people here after all, Frisk-darling?
[THIS ISN'T THE SURFACE, RIGHT...? It's not; this "Nier" person isn't somebody they knew from the Surface, he assumes. Mettaton considers himself savvy at making connections, but Frisk has a way about them so affable that he wonders if they've endeared their way into hearts already. Then again, it wouldn't surprise Mettaton too much, monster that he is: for all he clings to human culture, he's still from a species of creatures that grows to love easily. For somebody to have decided to take Frisk under their wing so readily isn't impossible for him to imagine.]
no subject
Picnics are idyllic and Mettaton is intrigued at the thought until a flower speaks of asking for help to make one with the assistance of someone he's never heard of. Nosy as he is, Mettaton drops his leg and leans forward with enthusiasm.]
I wouldn't protest the occasion. But who is this "Nier?" Do you know many people here after all, Frisk-darling?
[THIS ISN'T THE SURFACE, RIGHT...? It's not; this "Nier" person isn't somebody they knew from the Surface, he assumes. Mettaton considers himself savvy at making connections, but Frisk has a way about them so affable that he wonders if they've endeared their way into hearts already. Then again, it wouldn't surprise Mettaton too much, monster that he is: for all he clings to human culture, he's still from a species of creatures that grows to love easily. For somebody to have decided to take Frisk under their wing so readily isn't impossible for him to imagine.]