[ that weird, backwards kindness is part of his charm as mettaton; he's infectiously confident to the point that frisk can only regret the fact their hands aren't free enough to clap. surely, mettaton's used to a wild audience for these displays. right now, though, he's got a baby being loosened in vines. with their grip slackened, the vines release frisk enough that they plummet towards the ground... well, not really. their hair is grazing the vividly green grass, a reminder of spring's impending arrival.
despite this, they're grinning.
striking an equally wacky pose, they feel the vines wiggle. ]
Are the plants reacting...?
[ not having to actually speak to talk is kind of nice, truthfully. maybe part of the fun is knowing that you'll be able to communicate to people.
holding their pose, frisk feels the vines lessen further... their head is nearly touching the grass! they can feel it against their scalp! just a little more-- ]
With vines like these... who needs... legs!
[ the "speaking your thoughts for you" vines are maybe not so great for communiation now. ]
no subject
despite this, they're grinning.
striking an equally wacky pose, they feel the vines wiggle. ]
Are the plants reacting...?
[ not having to actually speak to talk is kind of nice, truthfully. maybe part of the fun is knowing that you'll be able to communicate to people.
holding their pose, frisk feels the vines lessen further... their head is nearly touching the grass! they can feel it against their scalp! just a little more-- ]
With vines like these... who needs... legs!
[ the "speaking your thoughts for you" vines are maybe not so great for communiation now. ]