stel's fanfic archive

STRANGER-TO-STRANGER BONDING

Chapter 1

"DAAARLING! IT'S SO GOOD TO SEE YOU!"

Tubular, metallic arms wrap around your torso, and you look down to see the bot himself, a heart displayed on his screen. He's awfully emotive for a rectangle.

You chuckle, giving him a light pat on the arm. "Good to see you too, Mettaton."

Mettaton's parties are always a blast, if a bit rowdy for your taste. The bot sure does know how to host a bash, though, and hanging out with him is surprisingly fun! You've heard that meeting celebrities can ruin people's impressions of them, but this wasn't the case for Mettaton at all. He's actually pretty tolerable offstage...

"DO TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK OF THE PARTY!! SMASHING AS USUAL, WOULDN'T YOU SAY?"

...though not much quieter. You don't mind it—some people just naturally have that much energy.

"Sure, that sums it up." You don't really know what that means. "There's... a lot of people here, though. Quite the celebrity, aren't you?"

Mettaton seems rather pleased at your compliment, but his flattered expression is replaced by one of recognition a moment later.

"OHH, THAT REMINDS ME—I ABSOLUTELY MUST INTRODUCE YOU TO MY COUSIN!! THEY'RE DEE-JAYING TONIGHT, YOU KNOW."

You take note of the party music playing in the background: Mettaton's sultry, robotic voice over a half-spooky half-electronic half-glamorous beat.

Well, he always gave performance 150%.

Mettaton's told you about his cousin before. You didn't know robots could have relatives, so you didn't know what to expect. Another rectangle? Perhaps a humanoid robot like his EX form?

You recall what you know about his cousin—"Blooky", was it? A musician of sorts, considering they're DJing. And... a snail farmer?

Before you know it, Mettaton is dragging you by the wrist, wheeling through the crowd which parts like Moses crossing the Red Sea. You hear a few gasps and an "Oh Angel, it's Mettaton!", which he definitely is accustomed to by now. You sure aren't, so you decide to focus your eyes on the floor to avoid making eye contact with any of his adoring fans.

It's a little overwhelming, to be honest, but Mettaton's cold grip keeps you upright.

He lets out a sing-songy shout—"OH, BLOOKY!!"— and raises a metallic arm.

You look up. Just past the crowd is a ghost sitting behind a mixing console, wearing a pair of headphones and sliding a fader with one... hand? It's more of a nub, really. They look up at the sound of their name—first at Mettaton, then at you. You nod awkwardly.

"oh.... hi....."

Their expression isn't very readable, so you can't tell how they feel about the sudden visit. They don't look mad, at least, which is good.

Mettaton continues on. "BLOOKY-DARLING!!" Goodness, he's enthusiastic. "I WANTED TO INTRODUCE YOU TO MY FRIEND HERE"— He gestures to you expectantly.

You tell the ghost your name, preceded by a "Hey, I'm..."

They're not what you expected (what were you expecting again?), but you try not to overthink it. Maybe they're cousins by marriage, or adoption, or something else you haven't considered. The spooky-electronic-glamorous music continues in the background.

"hi... i'm napstablook"

That's what that's for, huh...

Their eyes are basically round, empty ovals, but they look so emotive. You can see them bob their head to the beat slightly, clearly still engrossed in their music. You kind of want to ask them what they're doing, but they look pretty invested.

"Uh— you look busy. Mettaton insisted on introducing us, but I'd rather not bother you while you're working." You throw a playfully annoyed look at Mettaton.

"OH MY! WHAT NONSENSE!" Mettaton feigns shock, even bringing one hand to the grid of lights beneath his square matrix screen. It's kind of like a mouth, you guess.

You shrug. "I mean, like, we can do something later, but they look preoccupied..."

"HM..." He pauses, but it sounds strangely manufactured, like he's performing in a reality show. "WELL THEN, HOW DOES DINNER SOUND?"

Now that you think about it, much of what he says sounds premeditated. You wonder if that's a side effect of the "SHOW-BIZ", as he calls it.

"Dinner?"

"YOU KNOW. FOR SOME LOVELY FRIEND-TO-FRIEND AND COUSIN-TO-COUSIN AND STRANGER-TO-STRANGER BONDING. DOESN'T THAT SOUND WONDERFUL??"

Napstablook looks rather uncomfortable at the prospect, but seems unable to speak up.

"I'LL PAY, OF COURSE."

You consider it—you're just glad to spend time with your friend, and meeting someone new is a bonus. Besides, free food is free food, yeah?

You give a thumbs-up. "I mean, sure, if..." You glance at Napstablook. "...if we're all okay with it. Free food is free food, yeah?"

Napstablook looks contemplative as they turn a dial on their console—you hear the bass on the music amp up. They look up and say, "sure..... i didn't really have any plans tonight"

Mettaton clasps his gloved hands. "THAT SETTLES IT, THEN! IT'S A DATE!!"

You groan.

You should've expected Mettaton'd take you to his own restaurant, but you don't mind; the food is decent enough. Despite how obsessive his fans are, he doesn't make money only from putting his face on things. Besides, health regulations on the Surface are more strict, so you don't have to worry about ingesting glitter or fake meat or anything.

You get a Legendary Hero. Mettaton... can't really eat. Napstablook gets a glass of ghost juice, which Mettaton specially orders for them (to the catboy server's dismay).

The server sets your plate down in front of you, and Napstablook's glass in front of them. He manages to muster a fake-looking smile, and wishes the three of you a "sparkular" day. Poor guy.

"oh.... it's my favorite flavor....." Napstablook muses, looking down at their cup of ghost juice.

"OF COURSE! I KNOW YOU SO WELL, DARLING!"

The fact that the sandwich is sword-shaped feels vaguely threatening, but it's relatively normal otherwise.

"So, Napstablook," you start, popping a french fry into your mouth, "what kind of music do you do?"

"oh, hmm...... well.... nowadays, i mostly just produce stuff for mettaton's shows..... but i still do my own stuff now and then"

"THEY HAVE SUCH AN EAR FOR MUSIC!! FIGURATIVELY, OF COURSE. HAHA."

You ignore Mettaton's very text-to-speeched laugh. "Your own stuff?"

"you know.... retro-style spooktunes.... the kind of stuff i'm into...."

"Oh?"

"and... mix cds, sometimes.... just for myself.... or my friends...."

They take a sip of their ghost juice, which sort of just disappears into their mouth.

"Honestly, that sounds amazing. 'Spooktunes'?"

"well, uhh......"

While you enjoy your meal, Napstablook explains to you what "spooktunes" are: the musical style, the history, all that jazz (or, well, spookwave). Apparently, the genre originated in online forums, but eventually found its way to some corners of the UnderNet. They get a little excited, honestly, and you see a glimmer in their dark eyes whenever you look up at them. It's kind of charming: watching them explain passionately, jumping slightly in their seat and gesturing vaguely with their hands, a smile on their face.

Mettaton is mostly quiet for once, only interjecting occasionally to say "I TOTALLY AGREE!" or "OH YES, I REMEMBER THAT ONE!".

"WELLY WELL, THAT WAS A GREAT MEAL, WASN'T IT?"

"You... didn't eat."

"EVERYONE KNOWS THE MTT-BRAND BURGER EMPORIUM (HOME OF THE GLAMBURGER) HAS SOME OF THE BEST FOOD YOU'LL EVER EAT. I DON'T NEED A MOUTH TO TELL YOU THIS."

"Okay, Mettaton." You roll your eyes, zipping your jacket up. "Well, thank you for the meal, regardless. I should... head on home now."

You don't really have anything important to go home for, but you feel a vague sense of guilt about staying out late, even if you don't have an early morning the next day.

Napstablook pipes up, "um.... good to..... talk with you tonight...."

Oh...

Your heart feels warm all of a sudden.

"Hey, no problem."

"thanks for... listening.... i was a bit worried i talked too much"

"I don't think you did. I had fun listening to you."

You shove your hands deep into your pockets, and make eye contact with them. They look... a little embarrassed, almost. But still, happy? Happy, in a shy way. You think again of how they looked engrossed in their rambling, and then find yourself looking away. It's almost too much.

Mettaton (either ignorant or complacent in this) grabs you again by the wrist—you're sure he'd do the same to Blooky if he could ("Blooky"?)—and starts toward the exit. Napstablook floats close behind.

Before you need to part ways with the two of them, you turn to the ghost. "Hey, uh..."

"yeah....?"

"Do you want to... exchange numbers, or something? I had a fun time tonight, and it'd be cool to hang out with the two of you again sometime." Or one-on-one. You don't voice that thought. "...And, y'know, I need someone around to temper Mettaton's personality," you quip nervously. Sorry, Mettaton.

Napstablook's expression seems to light up again. "sure.... if you want to...."

So you do, and then you sadly have to part ways.

"WELL, I'LL BE SEEING YOU AROUND, DARLING!"

"Same to you. And hey, I can't go a day without spotting your face on a screen."

"BLOOKY, SAY GOODBYE."

"oh.... goodbye...... i"—

"I'll, um..."

"i'll see you too...."

Mettaton seems to look kind of suspiciously at the two of you, but he doesn't really have eyes, so you could just be making that up.

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