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[Mettaton's human curiosity is pretty well diminished, honestly. He's had quite enough of rebounds and one-night stands.]

PURELY MECHANICAL, I ASSURE YOU.

I'M EXPERIENCING SEVERE MALFUNCTIONS AND MY ENGINEER HAS GONE HOME.

[There's a pause after that, maybe half a minute long, then he sends another text.]

YOU ARE MECHANICALLY INCLINED, ARE YOU NOT? I'M NOT INTERESTED IN GOING TO THE MEDBAY LIKE THIS, YOU SEE. AND I KNOW IT'S AN IMPOSITION, BUT I'VE SEEN YOUR SUIT, AND IT'S GOOD WORK.

i guess a year of no maintenance will do that

[ He says, like it's hypothetical and not exactly what he's dealing with in his own armor and the Moira itself. ]

how severe is "severe"?
i can handle this in engineering or somewhere more private
but that depends on how many of your limbs are hanging off right now and what equipment i'll need to deal with said hypothetical limb-dangling

I CAN MOVE, SO ENGINEERING WILL DO FOR NOW.

BUT SO FAR IT SEEMS THAT THE ONLY LIMB WHICH ISN'T THREATENING TO FALL OFF WOULD BE MY RIGHT ARM. THE OTHERS ARE RUNNING ON FUMES, AS THE SAYING GOES.

IN ADDITION, MY INTERNAL BATTERY WILL NO LONGER MAINTAIN CHARGE IN EITHER MY USUAL FORM OR MY DEFAULT, WHICH PUTS IMMENSE STRAIN ON MY CORE MATRIX.

I THINK MY COOLING FANS ARE BROKEN AS WELL??

I APOLOGIZE. IT'S QUITE A LOT.

[It's not just the year of dodging maintenance, to be fair. His left arm was a hot mess before the "party," and he'd probably been a little irresponsible with his battery some time before as well.

Tony doesn't need to know that though.]

uh
yikes

[ That's his deeply sympathetic, expert analysis of the situation. Sorry pal. ]

okay, meet me in engineering
like, relatively now
right now

[ At least he's actually taking it seriously. ]

[Mettaton's starting to get used to Tony's way of speaking, so honestly? He's not surprised at the reaction.

Though he is surprised at the concern. Go figure.]

CERTAINLY!! GIVE ME A FEW MINUTES.

[...and by a few minutes he actually means around fifteen. It's not intentional, but he really does have to move slow and careful like this, and at this point, he's not quite sure he wants to switch forms. What if something broke and he was just half-changed? Not the cool way, with the box + legs. Like...half a leg or something coming out of his head.

He's not ready for that kind of bullshit.

Once he does arrive though, he just invites himself in. He's busted. Tony knows he's busted. Screw manners.]

[ It's not like Mettaton's dealing with somebody who gives a shit about manners, anyway. What even are those.

When Tony notices his arrival, he immediately sets aside what he'd been working on and pushes away from the workbench. Even from across the room, it's not hard to tell Mettaton's body is in terrible shape. He wanders over to circle him a few times, appraising and assessing, then offers a low whistle. ]

Damn.

Yes, I a-a-agree.

[Mettaton does look a mess, and he's well aware. So he's not entirely affronted by Tony's diagnosis. Instead, he's interested in the fix for it.

And now, Tony can add vocal glitching to the list, because now that the robot is talking, he sounds like a skipping CD.]

This k-kind of nonsense is why I would have preferred to st-stay on the half-submerged spaceship that feels l-like a constant punishment I am c-c-contractually obligated to s-suffer through.

Yeah, you and me both, buddy. And I don't even have a malfunctioning speech protocol.

[ Tony gestures at a nearby workbench, one he'd had the foresight to clear off ahead of time. Clean horizontal spaces in engineering aren't particularly common, not under ordinary circumstances. Truly he is pulling out all the hospitality stops. (No.) ]

Step into my office and have a seat, before you fall apart and I have to pick you up piece by piece.

Hilarious. S-so funny I fo-forgot to l-l-laugh.

[Mettaton's not actually grouchy at Tony. He's just grouchy at the fact that he's broken and would rather continue projecting that emotion onto the other ones he feels because anger sure is a way better emotion than sadness.

Either way, he takes the gracious invitation Tony has extended, moving slowly towards the workbench. The last thing he needs is to have a leg fall off.

Then Tony would be right and he'd be hopping around on one leg.

As he sits, Mettaton reluctantly speaks again. God, this is embarrassing.]

A-at least you can i-i-identify issues. If y-you have any questions for me, don't h-h-hesitate. Otherwise, h-ha-have at it.

[And with a flourish, he lays himself down and strikes a very lackluster but still showy pose, arms extended. Your MTT-Brand Amenity for today is: SARCASM!]

[ Tony raises a single sardonic eyebrow in Mettaton's direction as he splays himself out, so at least they're going two-for-two. He drags over a large cart piled haphazardly with various tools, standard and power alike, none of which seem organized in any coherent fashion. ]

Normally I'd take a guy out to dinner first.

[ Them's the breaks, pal. Tony plucks a flashlight and screwdriver from the cart and begins going over the damage limb by limb, cataloging the work that needs to be done by dictating notes to a nearby laptop as he does so. ]

I'm pretty sure we d-did something at the party, right? I can't r-r-really remember. But it was probably as close to dinner a-a-as you can get with a r-robot.

[Mettaton goes along with the diagnostics about as well as can be expected. He's not shy about being touched. If he was, then he'd really have been in trouble during his maintenance sessions with Alphys.

His limbs are, as expected, a mess, and a few soft taps from ejecting themselves. Why was he even built with that function? It's a mystery.

Or probably something to do with the fact that his limbs weren't built on all at once. That's the hazard of being made of whatever your best friend could find at the dump and refine.]

[ Tony doesn't comment further on the sorry state of Mettaton's various parts, at least, but whether that's because he's so absorbed in his work or because he actually feels kind of sorry for the guy, it's hard to say. As he pauses to swap to a wrench-soldering iron combo, apparently done cataloging damages and switching gears into actually fixing them, he puts on an artfully hurt expression. ]

What? You're seriously telling me you don't remember our passion-filled tryst?

Well. I remember flirting with you, but not much after that. I was exceptionally high, actually. That is the colloquialism for being under the influence of substances, right? Sorry to be such a spoilsport, but if you like, we can try it again later.

[He grins flirtily, but his heart's not in it. That party sucked, and just because his boyfriend wasn't on the ship anymore didn't mean that he was ready to get intimate with anyone else.]

Edited (when u tired and fall asleep typin) 2016-10-21 00:28 (UTC)

Can a robot even get high? [ He's been doing something wrong for a very long time for this to be the first time he's contemplated it. ] —No, don't answer that, my imagination is better.

[ What is he imagining? The world may never know, but it's probably excellent.

He starts working on the join of Mettaton's left arm and shoulder, deciding it's best not to have anything fall off while he's working on the minutia, like fingers. ]

Not to be a heartbreaker, but I'm taken. Your metalman passion is best saved for someone who can really appreciate it.

[Mettaton would have answered that too. What a shame.

He idly watches Tony work on his arm, though there's a bit of a twitch as Tony mentions that he is taken. Yeah...yeah, Mettaton had been taken too.

Was.]

I think that's a-a-actually the cutest thing I've he-heard you say, full stop. [A laugh.] You didn't s-sss-strike me as the sort to be tied down, sweetheart.

[ Tony just gives him A Look, not that there's any genuine bite behind it. ]

I can't believe you just called me cute while I have a dangerous metal instrument shoved in your armpit.

[ Is this a touchy subject right now?? We just don't know. What a mystery. ]

What's the worst that c-could happen, you burn m-m-me? Oooh, I'm terrified!!

[Mettaton isn't taking it back, but he doesn't harp about Tony's relationship status, at least.

But as for the sass-mouthing? It's much easier to do that when he's otherwise a broken bucket of bolts.]

You're cute and nothing y-y-you say will cha-change my mind, sweetheart.

You should be. I'm very terrifying.

[ He finishes the tightening required to keep Mettaton's arm from falling off while he works on the rest of it, so he takes this opportunity to lift and ignite his soldering iron. As if to prove a point, which is fruitless, because it's still not particularly terrifying. At all. ]

You're not about to hear me denying my staggering amounts of charm, though.

[Mettaton clenches his fist, then moves the arm Tony was working on, testing it--ahaha, no, no. The segments are still a little screwy. But it's a start.]

Careful now. You n-n-needn't threaten m-me with a good t-time.

[The appropriate response would probably be "Mettaton no."]

[ Mettaton. No. ]

I'm learning so much about the kinky shit you're into. Anything else you wanna share while I solder your wrist attachments back together? I can keep a secret.

[ He doesn't wait for an answer, though he's genuinely, morbidly curious as he sets about fixing the weakened metal joints. What are robots even into? Probably some crazy shit Tony's never even thought of before. ]

Look h-here Mr. Stark, I kno-know you have me p-positively at y-y-your mercy, and the mercy of y-yo-your tools, but aren't you just g-getting a little familiar there~?

[Does Tony actually want to know?]

But if the secret's s-so important to you, I-I prefer it r-rough! Quite rough!

[Someone needs Jesus.]

Incredible.

[ THIS BULLSHIT HAS UNEXPECTEDLY IMPROVED HIS MOOD A GOOD, LIKE, 400%. Thanks Mettaton. ]

So, what, like - is that a programmed behavior? Did your creator sit down and say "hell yes, I wanna make a robot who's really into spanking," or did you just pick that up later? I have so many questions.

[ This is suddenly the most suspect soldering job he's done in his whole life. ]

T-to be quite honest, it wouldn't su-surprise me if she considered i-i-it! But no, it's a co-con-contingency, actually! I c-can't usually feel anything, and what--whatever I feel is not the same as what y-you feel.

[This would be so much easier if he could talk straight, but hey. At least he's explaining, and at least it does make sense. Or should.

Maybe not.]

Alphys pro-programmed a sense of p-pain if I'm ex-experiencing something likely to l-leave lasting damage! Like bl-blunt force trauma, o-or compromising internal damage.

[He pauses, watching Tony work for a moment. The next part o this explanation actually does make their entire conversation technically not safe for work, but you better not stop, Mr. Stark.]

How I ch-choose to perceive this "pain" is a-a-all on me. B-b-better to enjoy pain than enjoy f-feeling absolutely no-nothing.

It makes me feel alive!

Y'know, I'd say some of that seems concerning, but who am I to judge? As long as you're having a good time, you've got my full support, pal.

[ Tony shuts the tool off, giving Mettaton a long, considering look. ]

Though I gotta say, as much fun as this is, I think we should address that vocalization problem before we deal with the other arm.

[ He's gonna hear robotic stuttering in his sleep if this goes on much longer. ]

Ugh, pl-please! I'm so o-o-over it, feel f-free to fix it!!

[Mettaton was definitely hoping Tony would say that. Especially since not talking was literally The Worst, and the robot couldn't imagine such a sad state of affairs. But at the same time...yikes, his voice is a disaster and he's surprised Tony didn't deal with it sooner.

Ah, well. Beggars can't be choosers.]

( savrou ) ic contact

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suddenly action??

action party forever

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