the temple of beginnings.we're all a little mad here.
Needless to say, the Circle has been out of sorts as of late.
Fortunately, the weather has stabilized — residents will find that they are no longer plagued with snowstorms or heat waves. However, it appears that the flora and fauna have...come to life. Vines may wind around your feet and legs, entrapping you in a vice-like grip. They will eventually let go, but it seems like you need to speak nicely to them first. Bizarre, but it'll get the job done.
Mushrooms have also sprouted and now sing at you when you pass by — they aren’t particularly good singers either. Trees extend their branches to poke at you from behind, but when you turn around you’ll find that no one is there.
...And worst of all, the flowers seem to be especially privy to your thoughts; when you’re close, they’ll blab out whatever is on your mind at the moment and will only be silenced once they are picked. Best of luck surviving in this more, er, animated environment! Perhaps even plant-life can be reasoned with…? Or destroyed.
That’s always an option, isn’t it?
oh my god they were roommates.
It isn’t a proper welcome until you’ve picked out your room! In the hallways, you may find a table or two offering cookies and tea as you survey your newfound surroundings. They seem to be left by invisible people . . . weird? The Unseen Servants seem to be playing a bit more nicely from your arrival, and seem to be apologizing for their antics with sweets! (These cookies, neverfear, are not magically cursed. They are just normal cookies.)
These rooms are a bit magical, you see — should you decide to room with another person (or multiple people), you’ll find that the room itself will accommodate your needs and expand accordingly. They look the same for the most part, so some might say that it would be wise to make your decision based on what your neighbors are like.
Say hello or potentially someone else’s room by accident; it’s a bit of a Russian roulette.
Regardless, it seems that this is your new home in sense of the word. Make the most of it!
wildcard.
The Temple is a pretty big place! The Forest of the Fey stretches on endlessly, Lake Dona (and the resident Nessie) is free to explore, and there are plenty of creatures who are curiously inspecting the new arrivals.
The wyverns seem to be particularly precocious today, given the singing mushrooms, the psychic flowers, and the new people checking into new rooms! They are relatively harmless (as are most of the creatures in the Temple), but can be pretty annoying . . . especially if you have something resembling a snack in your hand.
At any rate, free to explore the rest of the Temple, the Forest, or the Lake at your leisure! Unless otherwise designated in the bestiary, everything is free to play/free to explore. :)
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acatalepsy_logs2019-02-05 06:59 pm
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[Is that... disdain? Mettaton knows that humans have a history of conflict with monsters, but he wouldn't have imagined there being any of that same negativity directed toward robots. What a peculiar response to his existence. Even with that sort of reaction toward him, he doesn't lose heart: he's intrigued.
Mettaton sweeps his foot to collide gently with Hank's in an effort to protect the flower from his pitiful kicking, allowing it to keep chattering away if it so pleases. He brings up a finger to wag it chidingly.]
Go on. I welcome these chatty flowers. And I'm pleased to hear you're as much of a fan of the restraints as I took you to be! ... But what's this about robots? Am I just that imposing?
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Robots can all go- starts the flower and Hank hurries to talk over it, his voice as loud as he needs to be to drown the flower's stupid little voice out.]
It's different back in Detroit, that's all! Androids are, they don't even look like you, they're built totally different!
[The flower's finished whatever the fuck it was going to say. Hank can be a little more quiet now. He takes a breath.]
Back home's a different situation. Come on-
[I'm so fucking tired of- starts another one, and Hank raises his voice again.]
-just get me the hell out of this shit! Or did you just stroll out here to interrogate the first asshole you found?
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He exhales one sharp syllable of a laugh.] It does feel like an interrogation, now that I've been made so exclusively privy to some misplaced distaste you might harbor for me, doesn't it? I'm touched... You were even the one to mention our lack of acquaintanceship, and yet... Well. [He shrugs by bringing his head toward one of his broad shoulders - seems his design prevents him from moving them on their own.] At least you're aware that I'm like nothing you've seen before. Keep reminding yourself of that, darling!
[As if to emphasize the "look" part, he tosses his head. His hair bounces. He redirects his stare to the vines.]
Alright. I could free you... but I don't have any of my splendid features that might've come in handy here. Thanks to Astoria. [Her name's laced with spite.] Ideas?
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Just like that? Okay uh, shit, let's see.
[It'd be nice, one of the flowers says, this time by his elbow, if someone else's fucked up bullshit went on display for a fuckin change. There's an idea for you.
Hank starts to move, instinctively, to try to crush the thing, and then stops, visibly considering. He shrugs, pursing his lips. That does sound pretty good, honestly. Out of all the thoughts these little shitheads could have plucked out of him, that one's not bad. But it won't get him out of here.]
She took those uh, features when she zapped you here, huh? That's tough.
[She's making more enemies already, huh, says a flower on his other side. Good.
Hank pulls a face but, again, decides to leave it. Again, there are worse thoughts in his head, probably, but again, not getting him out.]
Maybe you could just pull and it'd fall. Vines aren't that strong, right?
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She stripped everyone of their abilities, I understand. And most people got some other arbitrary power in return! I take it you've been having a rough time here yourself... If what these flowers have to say is any indication.
[While he talks, he tries digging his heels into the earth to give it a better pull, but the vines aren't letting go so readily.]
But don't worry, darling. It's not as though I have any reason to go around repeating your private thoughts, such as your kneejerk dislike for robots like me! You and I are beyond that. This is an interesting way to get to know you... Without the ability to hide anything. [He gives Hank a broader smile.] Even though it's only you in the spotlight, it's not as though I'd hide anything about myself.
[When Mettaton moves his foot next, a flower he nearly stepped on pipes up: "I could tell him that these flowers can't read my robotic mind! Brilliant." ...He pretends he didn't hear anything, but stops talking.]
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But he isn’t actually trying to pry into Hank’s life, is he? Hank’s not sure yet. He’ll hold off on that as a tactic until he thinks the other guy’s actually earned it.
Well, since you’re gracious enough to be all honest and everything, what kinda stuff are you not hiding? says a flower, prompting Hank to cut in as soon as it’s done.]
Don’t answer that. Don’t think about the answer to that. They might pick it up, and if our subconscious minds start having their own little conversation I swear to god I’m going to lose my shit so hard.
[And I’ve already filled my ‘lost it in public’ quota for the month, pipes the peanut gallery, and this time Hank just rolls his eyes.]
Yeah yeah, shut the fuck up. Hey, do you have fingernails or something, maybe you can just cut through these things instead of pulling.
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"Fingernails? What the hell is that...?" asks a flower. Thank goodness that Hank distracted him with a question!]
Oh no. It seems my darkest secret has been unearthed. Whatever shall I do. I don't have fingernails. When it comes to finger-based artillery, all I had were lasers... But. You know where those went.
[Meanwhile, Mettaton steps on the flower next to his foot with the sharp heel of his boot to stop it from doing anything he doesn't like.]
Do you have anything on you I can use, by any chance...? Of a cutting nature.
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Not on me. Not so hot on keeping those things alive now, huh?
[So he was trying to snoop a little earlier, when he stopped Hank from squishing that one. It wasn't 'not liking it when people kill plants', it was 'not minding taking advantage of the situation'. It's the first real thing Hank thinks he's learned about this particular robot, and he notes it.]
How about we start with squashing the rest of em, give us some time to figure these fucking vines out without getting interrupted by bullshit? Oh uh, shit, I got a dog around here somewhere, it takes a while to get him to play but if you could get him to pull on these vines I bet he could take them down. Sumo! Hey! Where'd you go off to, buddy?
[He hears a deep bark from behind him, and smiles a little. Good. Sumo's not far.]
You know much about dogs and stuff? Do you think you could get him hyped up on your own?
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He considers destroying the rest of the thought-echoing flowers, but the mention of a dog takes precedence. Mettaton lights up, halting his vine-untangling work that would take an agonizingly long time.]
Of course I do. Who doesn't know about dogs? That's a stupid question. [A stupid question to ask somebody who couldn't recall what fingernails were at first mention, of course. Mettaton stands with his hands on his hips.] Leave it to me, darling. I could rile up anything if I wanted. I'm good with all sorts of creatures: dogs. Cats. Lions. Alligators. The list goes on, endlessly.
[Mettaton swivels around to look in the direction of the bark to see if he can spot Sumo.] Is his name... Sumo, you said?
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[Of course one of the flowers speaks up. Does Cayde even count as a- it starts, before Hank raises his voice over it. Airing out his own BS is one thing, but someone else’s private shit? No fucking way. Hank’s voice comes out loud and urgent.]
Hey, Sumo! Hurry it up man, kind of need you over here!
[And so he emerges, one hundred seventy pounds of Saint Bernard, ambling along, not particularly concerned with Hank’s tone or his position. Hank doesn’t expect him to hurry; he’s seen Hank a lot worse off than this and didn’t particularly hurry any of those times, either.
Sumo stops to sniff at a flower. It barks at him. His ears perk up and he barks back, a brief, rumbling noise. Hank can’t see exactly what’s keeping him, but he can tell Sumo might take a while. He sighs.]
Sorry, uh- [Right, he doesn’t know this guy’s name.] -man. If you can get him over here before I die of old age and you get all rusty or whatever, then I’ll believe you about being good with dogs.
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He'll cooperate. He's grown fond of Hank to a degree, even without knowing his name. At least he'll do what he can to set him free.]
I'm Mettaton! You can use that from now on, in whatever reverent capacity you desire. [He flashes a charismatic smile.] I'll fetch your dog for you.
[He pulls away from Hank and heads for Sumo, a flower in his wake deciding to parrot one of his thoughts: "Though I wish this man would stop talking over these flowers... It makes knowing his thoughts all the more enticing!" Well, it's the truth, he figures. What's the use in denying it?
Mettaton reaches Sumo and stops short, bending over somewhat to take note of the flower he's interested in.] Sumo, that flower's far less interesting than what's going on over here. Come, now! [He claps his hands together once, hoping that getting his attention's all it'll take to get him to see his owner and focus.]
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[Reverent, right. This guy... Hank tries to look over his shoulder toward his dog, nevermind that he knows it won't work. He hears the clap, and hears no response from Sumo, and this does not surprise him.
Sumo looks up at Mettaton at the noise, thinks about it a second, and then ambles over to Mettaton, sniffing at his feet and paying no attention to Hank at all.
Hank gives it a few seconds, then gets bored of waiting when he can't even see what he's waiting for.]
Also, could you think words other than 'enticing' while I'm tied up here like a damsel in one of those old movies? Kinda making it weird.
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My legs... Yes, they're fascinating. You can't be blamed for taking more interest in me than Hank. [He pats his head, ignoring Hank's complaining.] But we're busy, and unfortunately, sniffing my legs won't get us anywhere, no matter how good I smell. We've a damsel in distress to attend to! [To borrow some of Hank's phrasing, which Mettaton clearly found amusing.] Do you want to play?
[... With what, though. A stick first comes to mind, because that's what a dog should want to play with, from his understanding. It seems foolproof from his experience with dogs! So he reaches for one of the nearby trees and snaps off a branch. Easily done, given his height and extendable arms.]
Do you like fetch? I would, if I were a dog. [And even if he weren't a dog. Mettaton takes a step back and holds the stick just out of reach, testing Sumo's reaction – and speaking loudly enough to welcome input from Hank, in case he knows what would do the trick.]
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[Hank says it right after the damsel in distress comment, but almost quietly, wanting to register the observation about his new uh, acquaintance, more than he actually wants a response. Then he rolls his head the other way, stretching his neck out and considering the question.]
You've got to get him going if you want him to play. Like... jump around with him and stuff till he gets worked up. Otherwise you're gonna have to make him think he's rescuing someone.
[Not me, butts in one of the flowers. I think he's kind of over that. But someone. Hank sighs, then starts wobbling in the grip of those vines as he makes a pretty good go at trying to kick the one that just said that. He gets in a glancing blow and then keeps on trying, half-expecting to hear it scream or something.
Sumo, meanwhile, is watching the stick. He doesn't look tense or ready to spring, but he's watching it, clearly at least recognizing it as something that's there for him to pay attention to.]
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[He doesn't seem to be changing his plan to play with Sumo until he can get him to lunge for the vines, taking Hank's advice and putting forth some posing and sudden movements to make the stick seem more enticing. He holds the stick close enough for him to get, then pulls it away, taking a step back toward Hank.]
But what makes you think your own dog wouldn't want to rescue you, when it matters? Just "someone?" [And as an aside to Sumo, while he holds the stick still for a moment tantalizingly:] Do you want the stick, Sumo...?
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How about you, you asshole?
[He sounds a little angry, starting to mean his epithet this time. Asking about something Hank didn’t even have a say in telling Mettaton in the first place was crossing a line.]
You said you wouldn’t hide anything from me! [Before Mettaton knew the goddamn plant life could read robot brains too, anyway. Convenient. Hank doesn’t mind calling him on it now.] How about we get a couple of your dirty little secrets too, really make this thing a party?
[Yeah, he knows that might not be specific enough to spark the kinds of impulsive thoughts the plants seem to pick up on, but Hank doesn’t know the guy well enough for that yet. He’ll have to settle for throwing a wide net.]
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... A party. Do you really think knowing my thoughts would make you feel better? I mean it when I say I have nothing to hide. I'll indulge you, since I can't deny a request to get to know more about me. These flowers are playing unfair. But... If you had a camera trained on you all the time, would you have many chances for dirty secrets?
[Mettaton boldly steps next to a flower, focusing all of his attention on his career pursuits so as to prevent his mind from wandering too far into the past. He thinks of his shows, the cameras, his fame, his fans... The present. He steels himself.]
I'm afraid there's not much to tell, darling. A star isn't afforded his secrets! ["Oooh, but he might not like to know that I tried to take a human's soul on live television. Would any human like that?" Not necessarily the thought he hoped to broadcast, but it's one he's willing to tolerate. Mettaton smiles, satisfied.] See? It was televised and everything! But now you know one of my regrets. ...Now. Will you let me help you?
["I could act like I'm antagonizing him to prove Sumo would rescue him. Yelling got his attention."]
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[It pops out of him when he hears the soul thing, and between that and the thought that comes after it - hearing something that feels a lot like the guy wants to help Hank - Hank kind of deflates, sounding guilty and looking confused about it. The way Mettaton acts dances just close enough to 'asshole' that Hank wants to be mad at him, wants to yell, and then he goes and seems like he might not actually be doing this to dig into Hank's private bullshit and watch him squirm, seems like he might want, for no good reason, to help Hank feel better about his dog. He's gonna get some kind of whiplash.
I shoulda known better than to come out of my fuckin room, a flower says, and Hank frowns at Mettaton, visibly off balance.]
I uh. I wouldn't. Play like you're actually dangerous, I mean. Sumo doesn't forget shit like that, and if you're gonna be around a while I wouldn't want him to uh, think you're a threat.
[After a second he adds, helplessly:]
Look, what was that shit about souls, again? Does that mean murder? Did you reality-TV murder somebody?
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Yes. You could call it murder, since I was expressly out to kill the human to take their soul for myself. Attempted, anyway. I tried... and failed.
[It's all in the past, and Mettaton's not inclined toward explaining the context: to him, it's obvious that taking a human soul equals gaining incredible power. Without thinking, he rubs the area where his arm is connected to his body, sparing a look toward Sumo before smiling at him and reminding him of the stick. Playing might still be their only ticket to Hank's freedom, at this rate.]
But they proved to me that they could handle their own and survive the king, against all odds. And they stood their ground so fiercely that my ratings skyrocketed to an all-time high! [He sighs.] It was a fabulous performance. It all worked out in the end, and nobody had to die.
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I'm gonna be honest, I'm getting mixed signals here. So I'm going to ask you a stupid question. Murder: good or bad? You're making it really hard to tell what kinda guy I'm at the mercy of, here.
[He twists a little, watching Mettaton's attempts to get Sumo to care about fetch. A flower speaks up when he does it, but this one he doesn't really mind. God, I hope he's better with dogs than that. At this rate I'm gonna have to do it, and I hate doing that shit in public.]
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[Okay, he hasn't really ever owned a dog or anything. Dogs are just there, where he's from, and sometimes they could be your neighbor. But universally, they want to play, and he knows that.]
Anyways. I didn't want to take their soul. But at the time, I feared that if I didn't take their soul, the monster king surely would. And if King Asgore killed the human, well... All of humanity would cease to exist. I don't make attempts on human lives on the regular, darling. I have never killed anyone, and there should be no worries about being in my mercy. Do you understand?
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[God, I'm so tired of this weird shit, says a flower, sounding slow and exhausted.]
Sumo, can you just play fetch with the nice robot so I can go back to my stupid room? Please?
[But Hank knows the terrible truth: asking Sumo to hurry it up is a losing game. He sighs.]
Sorry if I uh, offended you. I know people don't like being accused of uh, murder.
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[Go figure that the vines are still listening, as they always have been, and Mettaton's flirtatious nature dispensing sweet words directed at them is still an alternative key to freedom. The vines haven't endured too much in the ways of verbal abuse, but plenty in the ways of the robotic star's praise. At this point, the amount they loosen is remarkable.
Mettaton doesn't notice, so he turns away to try fetch again. He's much better at fetch when he's the one catching the stick...]
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Well, I was about to be weirded out, but there you go, you brought it back.
[Is that negging? mutters a flower. Did that robot just neg me? Hank considers his own question. Technically, maybe. But being called average after that absolutely made him feel better. But then he stops thinking about that, frowning at his wrists instead.]
Huh.
[He tugs a little, slowly.]
Did you just do something and I didn't notice? Like, something you haven't tried yet? Cause I think this thing just decided it doesn't really like me.
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Do something...? Why, like anti-enchanting the vines?
[Oh, wow. They are loosening, aren't they? Mettaton turns fully, approaching to get a better look.]
No... Nothing. How strange. Maybe they're taking pity on you, finally. Is that not also a kindness? Maybe it's quite the opposite: they like you just enough to know when to spare you.
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