After his kaleidoscopic invasion of mirror memories (the majority of which turned out to be Emet-Selch's, in the end), he remembers waking and having the hardest time sensing his very own Bonded. It wasn't until days later when he felt that distinct soul of his flicker and burn to life that he realized his Bonded had awoken from a multiple-day long session of unconsciousness. And at that point, wouldn't it be considered a coma?
At that time, he texted him. Ascertained that this would likely be the end of that, somehow, but Mettaton didn't think to gather any details on that front. He doesn't even remember where he was or what he was doing when he realized Emet-Selch had roused, just that he needed to check in on him. Days later, Mira got in touch, and he learned the reason behind his consistent consciousness. The reason he was recovering. He'd made a note to talk to Emet-Selch about it, not understanding what precisely had changed between them to cause an annulment. Mettaton is invested in Mira's care for Emet-Selch, at least, even if it was this nosiness into his character that led him down the path of discovering his own attachment to the Ascian.
But the days thereafter turned into... a week, at least. He'd grown so accustomed to actual sleep that abstaining from it turned into trouble when he realized he'd misplaced his magitech charger (read: Left It In Emet-Selch's Room), forcing him to conk out from battery depletion. It's fortunate that sleeping replenishes his charge at all. This, along with a general sense of disorientation and the willingness to keep busy with relaxing theater laws, contributed to Mettaton's loss of time.
The calendar changes to Maiuril. There are still matters that try to command his attention, but he decides he's reached his limit. Mettaton scarcely thinks to warn the Ascian of his arrival, but remembers his request. A request Mettaton miraculously took seriously, perhaps given the weight of their experience with the Rathmores. So at least he gives him a... heads-up.]
I'm about two minutes from your exact location. Assuming you're in the same place you usually are. That is, your extravagantly decorated room.
Which, you are. I know. I could hunt you down anywhere in this city... Even if you tried to hide.
Be there before you know it!!
[His visit is coming after the sun's already setting, because what is the distinction of night and day when one's been avoiding sleep?? It doesn't make any difference. Besides, for all that Mettaton lacks nighttime vision, he finds himself most energetic in evenings into early morning hours.
...And somehow, the Puca has leapt up onto the roof. It's fine. Emet-Selch will likely hear the THUD of his weight against the ceiling. Two silvery ears pop down from above, followed by Mettaton himself as he raps against the window. How kind of him, to not break the window. How stupid of him, to not use the door.
Front doors are for break-ins, not whatever this is in his weird mind.]
text
After his kaleidoscopic invasion of mirror memories (the majority of which turned out to be Emet-Selch's, in the end), he remembers waking and having the hardest time sensing his very own Bonded. It wasn't until days later when he felt that distinct soul of his flicker and burn to life that he realized his Bonded had awoken from a multiple-day long session of unconsciousness. And at that point, wouldn't it be considered a coma?
At that time, he texted him. Ascertained that this would likely be the end of that, somehow, but Mettaton didn't think to gather any details on that front. He doesn't even remember where he was or what he was doing when he realized Emet-Selch had roused, just that he needed to check in on him. Days later, Mira got in touch, and he learned the reason behind his consistent consciousness. The reason he was recovering. He'd made a note to talk to Emet-Selch about it, not understanding what precisely had changed between them to cause an annulment. Mettaton is invested in Mira's care for Emet-Selch, at least, even if it was this nosiness into his character that led him down the path of discovering his own attachment to the Ascian.
But the days thereafter turned into... a week, at least. He'd grown so accustomed to actual sleep that abstaining from it turned into trouble when he realized he'd misplaced his magitech charger (read: Left It In Emet-Selch's Room), forcing him to conk out from battery depletion. It's fortunate that sleeping replenishes his charge at all. This, along with a general sense of disorientation and the willingness to keep busy with relaxing theater laws, contributed to Mettaton's loss of time.
The calendar changes to Maiuril. There are still matters that try to command his attention, but he decides he's reached his limit. Mettaton scarcely thinks to warn the Ascian of his arrival, but remembers his request. A request Mettaton miraculously took seriously, perhaps given the weight of their experience with the Rathmores. So at least he gives him a... heads-up.]
I'm about two minutes from your exact location. Assuming you're in the same place you usually are. That is, your extravagantly decorated room.
Which, you are. I know. I could hunt you down anywhere in this city... Even if you tried to hide.
Be there before you know it!!
[His visit is coming after the sun's already setting, because what is the distinction of night and day when one's been avoiding sleep?? It doesn't make any difference. Besides, for all that Mettaton lacks nighttime vision, he finds himself most energetic in evenings into early morning hours.
...And somehow, the Puca has leapt up onto the roof. It's fine. Emet-Selch will likely hear the THUD of his weight against the ceiling. Two silvery ears pop down from above, followed by Mettaton himself as he raps against the window. How kind of him, to not break the window. How stupid of him, to not use the door.
Front doors are for break-ins, not whatever this is in his weird mind.]