Snowdin is kind of boring.
Well, that's a bit of an understatement. For starters, what is "kind of"? It's such a subjective phrase… How can we know for certain how he feels, if "boring" is so open to interpretation? Okay, let's rephrase that.
Snowdin is really boring.
To be fair, the full name was Snowdin Town, and as the name implied, it was mostly homes. A bar, some weird igloo thing, a shop and an inn all were located within the town, but none of those seemed to catch his interest too much (well, not after he figured out that the weird igloo was just a giant slide). Alphys didn't seem all too interested in catching up with the locals anyway, and Mettaton couldn't care less. There was only one building that really caught his eye, that being the librar-...
...Librarby?
No no, that couldn't be right. He was reading that wrong, right? Maybe there was an issue with his eyes after all. Maybe he shouldn't be wearing glasses right now...or maybe he needed better ones?
"Alphys?"
When she realized the robot had stopped, the lizard skidded, turned toward the building that he had been examining, and brought one claw up to her lips, mostly out of habit.
"Um, yes, Mettaton?"
"What does that sign say?"
Alphys glanced up at the top of the building once she had caught up with the metal man. Her arms flew to the sides, stabilizing herself enough to keep from falling face-first into freezing white snow.
"Um," she said, eyes dancing across the board of a title. "Librarby."
He shifted his stance to one foot, head swaying, elbow jutting out as he spoke. "This is a place with books, right? You think they'd be able to spell at least the name of their own building."
The ghost, not recalling this building at first, simply shrugged. A library? Okay. That's cool, she guessed. But, um, time to move on now…
"C-can we go?" she stuttered as she tapped her hands together lightly. There were probably monsters in their, and they probably couldn't see her, but there was always a chance!
Without a second thought, the robot grasped the metal knob and proceeded to fling open the door. The warmth it offered tore at his face, enough to make him shy away from it by turning his head, if only for a brief moment.
Where they entered, the wooden floor was swept carefully underneath a black fuzzy welcome mat. The snow that Mettaton had dragged in with his heels fell as soon as they made contact, dripping half-frozen water onto the mostly-dry mat.
As his magenta eyes surveyed the area around him, Mettaton was able to take in quite a few details. For starters, the terribly small enclosure thankfully only held four people at that moment, excluding the two who had just entered. Several shelves lined the stone wall opposite them. Each of the four sides that made the building had their stones painted over with a light, calm cream color, matching the soft brown of the floor and shelving.
On the shelves themselves, each individual rectangular figure was pressed against one another, covers squeezing into summaries of the last. They were all categorized by color, as far as Mettaton could tell. Red on the farthest right, followed by a dark orange in color, continuing all the way down until one reached the true blue book jackets, a total of six different selections.
Light, peppy jazz played through dying speakers, accompanied by the scent of warm cookies that was pushed aside in favor of an overbearing amount of cologne as Mettaton turned to the man at the front desk.
"Hello," the man said. His eyes shut for a brief moment while offering the visible one a small wave with a yellow, leather-like hand. "Welcome to the library."
The robot darted his magenta eyes down beside him where a small gasp had been emitted. It was obvious the source- he had already expected her to be the source- so seeing her cower behind him and grab a hold of his purple shirt was nothing much out of the ordinary.
Mettaton redirected his attention back onto the lizard-like man behind the counter. Yellow. He was yellow. It was a much darker, faded yellow than Alphys's skin (scale?) tone, but still surprisingly similar, even down to the glasses.
He raised his finger, opposite hand tapping against the sturdy wooden surface.
"Your sign-"
"Yes," the lizard man cut in abruptly. "We know. The sign is misspelled."
"But you're a library!"
"M-Mettaton," Alphys muttered from behind him, tugging on his shirt brain. "W-we should keep moving…"
"Excuse me," another voice called, and the robot turned on his heel to see what looked like Mike Wazowski's cousin (round red body, a single yellow eye making up most of the surface, even red horns) taking a few steps closer. He reflexively jerked away, though caught himself so that he hadn't done much more than lean back and allow his arms to move toward his chest. Still, he kept his eyes on her.
"Yes? What is it?"
Her eye bobbed up and down as she examined the newcomer, causing a feeling of mild discomfort wash over him while she spoke. "I haven't seen you around here before."
Mettaton blinked. No, he wasn't from around here. But what was he supposed to say? Uh, yeah, I fell down from the surface and you guys are extremely creeping me out. That'll go over well.
"Oh, leave the poor thing alone," a cat across the table hissed, though a smile on her face as she did so. She was chewing on something- a cigarette, he was pretty sure. Her eyes fell lazily onto the robot, then lulled back to the other monster. "We've been getting a lot more tourists lately. She's probably one of the suckers from the Capitol."
"She?" the man at the counter chimed in. He eyed Mettaton with a questioning look, unsure of how to follow that. His tongue danced clumsily in his mouth, yet still he struggled to find how to ask. "Sorry, I-I thought you were…y'know..."
"A guy?" the red one finished with a small nod. "Yeah, I thought so too. What are you, honey?"
The robot blinked. He'd been male in his former life, though he wasn't always the most comfortable as one. But that was with his last body. Did this one even have genitalia? He hadn't needed to go to the bathroom since falling down. He couldn't feel anything down there, or along his chest. Alphys had said she made the body a guy's, and he was pretty sure it looked like one what with the shoulders and other proportions, but the fact that people were questioning it made him feel...good, somehow. Perhaps it was the fact that he could pull off being a chick when it was needed (such as roles in performances), or better yet, he could wear dresses without being yelled at!
Still, though, Meckenzie had been taught that biology makes the gender. If that were the case, his "biology" would be whatever gears and wires were in the right places, which, uh…
"It doesn't really matter," the robot answered as he did his best to raise his voice a bit in its pitch. Hopefully, if he was lucky, it sounded at least gender neutral. "A star is still a star no matter what they're born as."
The fourth monster in the room perked up at those words. She chuckled softly, flattening the light pink dress that draped over her form. One of her hands was brought to her blonde hair, weaving through its coarse length to straighten out any knots, though there weren't very many to begin with.
"You're very flamboyant," she was able to say, though her voice very soft and delicate. It was almost as if Mettaton could reach out his hot pink high heels and stomp out that fragile flame of will.
He closed his eyes, mimicking her motion by sticking one metal hand through his nylon bangs and letting out a hum of thought. "I suppose you could say that."
"S-so you go by 'they'?" the man at the desk stuttered. His eyes darted once to the soft-spoken woman and then back on Mettaton, though continued dancing between the other monsters present.
Mettaton shrugged, his eyes closed and legs poised as he did so. "I don't particularly care one way or the other, darling. I'll look fabulous either way."
The four glanced about each other, though none of them seemed particularly disgusted, as the former human had a small tint of fear would happen. Instead, the man at the front desk pinched his glasses tighter to his face and pointed his nose down at whatever book was lying in front of him, the cat lady directed her attention to an old newspaper, torn at the corners, the red monster became fixated on whatever was outside the windows of the library, and the quiet one clutched her pencil just a bit tighter as she pressed it down against the paper in front of her. This was the one that our protagonist had taken an interest in, and, seeing as the interest in himself had died out, decided to meander on over to, peering over her shoulder at the contents of the paper.
"...two spears, each clutched tightly in her muscular hands, and jabbed viciously at the purple hea…"
Her pencil paused, and the taller snoop stood straighter as she turned to face him, his hands moving behind his back. However, there wasn't a trace of annoyance on her mellow complexion. She simply smiled at him. "Yes?"
He could feel the familiar grip of his companion's claws coil around his shirt, but he paid no mind. She was shaking, he was fairly sure, but when was she not?
Mettaton shook his head, offering a smile in return and then turning away.
"I love working on the newspaper," Mettaton could hear the woman remark as he faced the bookshelf, eyes gracing the brim of the yellow covers. His metallic hands reached out for one that had been held at eye level, and he lifted it out of its spot, flipping to some random page near the middle.
*Because they are made of magick, he could hear Alphys read out loud, but didn't bother stop her, monsters' bodies are attuned to their SOUL.
*If a monster doesn't want to fight, its defenses will weaken.
*And the crueler the intentions of our enemies, the more their attacks will hurt us…
*Therefore, if a being with a p-powerful S-SOUL st-struck with the desire to...to kill…
He could hear her voice waver before feeling a slight push as Alphys's hand made contact with the robot's, urging the book back in. When he looked down to ask why, she simply offered worried eyes as a response. The two remained locked in this position for a moment before she could finally clear her throat to speak.
*Um, l-let's e-end the chapter here…
He gave a small sigh, but still placed the book gently back in its place.
"Symmoh?" Mettaton heard the man at the front desk call, at which he spun about on his heel to face him. His eyes darted to the three ladies seated across from him. One- the soft-spoken yellow one- rose from her seat with a slight nod before pacing over to the counter.
"Yes?"
"I was wondering when you'd have the next issue ready."
"I don't know. We still need to edit the interview with Sam before we can submit it."
The man huffed, tapping his fingers gently against the desk and leaning forward ever-so-slightly, free hand doing its best to prop up his cheek. "The deadline is Sunday."
"It's almost finished," the red monster added as her gaze shifted over to the pair. "Don't worry so much, Dashy."
"Dashyd," the motherly woman repeated, though with his full name this time. Her hand reached for his own that was lying on the desk, and their fingers intertwined, her smile never bothering to fade from her expression. "It's just about done. We have plenty of time."
Dashyd sighed in response. He said something, but Mettaton didn't particularly care to pay attention. His nose was too busy being buried in the book that had been left lying open beside the man. His magenta eyes darted across the lines inside the crimson cover, soaking up each word they were met with.
"They raised their hand, signalling another blast from the head behind them and a ray of light to sweep across the battlefield. "Please!" they cried. "I don't want to do this! Can't we just stop?" But the man carried on, and so too did the child with the red bat."
"You, uh, like my book?"
Mettaton froze, eyes darting up at the man standing before him. Dashyd still didn't look upset (the robot was starting to think you physically couldn't piss them off), but that didn't stop a slight heat from making its way onto the robot's cheeks. Slight. Just...play it cool, Mettaton. You weren't snooping in this guy's journal. Totally.
He straightened his back.
"The four sentences I've read seem very interesting."
Dashyd chuckled, giving a small nod as he ran his fingers along the edge of the crimson cover. "I've been working on it for a little while. I have to admit, though, my wife's a better writer than I am."
"Dashyd," the yellow monster whined, just barely loud enough for Mettaton to hear. There was a light blush on her face, and it wasn't helping by the way the cat lady beside her elbowed her in the ribs. It was a light shove in Mettaton's opinion, though the way Symmoh winced might have disproved that thought.
The cat then laughed. "C'mon, Symmoh. You know you're the writer of the group."
"Regina…"
The robot cleared his throat, loud enough for the pairs of eyes (or, uh, eye) to swivel his way. He paused, words running through his brain for but a brief moment before he fluttered his lashes and struck a stunning pose. "I'm looking for how to get to Hotland." This place was boring, these people were strange, and he just wanted out.
The cat let out a small puff of her cigarette, tying her dark, curly hair off with a faded pink scrunchy before tapping the table gently. "Hotland?"
He nodded. "The Lab, specifically."
A slight unease fell in the air as the married couple tensed their muscles for half a second before turning their eyes down at the floor. While the husband made a quick recovery from this, looking back up at Mettaton with a half-smile, his wife continued to stare downward. She...didn't seem as thrilled.
"You have to get through Waterfall to reach Hotland," the red one piped in before any of the other four could get a word. "Try talking to River Pants. His boat's pretty fast and he'll be able to get you there no problem."
"They'll be fine, hun." Regina eyed her two sullen friends with a slight glint in her expression, toying with her whiskers as she did so. "You just struck a bad nerve."
"I didn't intend to," Mettaton defended, his shoulders falling slightly.
Dashyd shook his head, propping both palms up against the counter and pushing, giving himself a slight boost in height. "No, it's fine. We're alright." He then sighed.
Unsure of what else to say, our protagonist simply shrugged and strode out the door. He hadn't meant to bring up something sour; he didn't even know that it was the wrong thing to say! Why should he apologize? They said they'd be fine, and that was that. Nothing else to say here.
However, upon closing the door behind him and turning around to face the freshly falling snow, Mettaton noticed something about the monster he'd been ignoring for most of the time in the Librarby. She was close by, naturally, hunched over, as always. What was strange wasn't her posture or even her expression, but the fact that there were actually tears dripping down her cheeks. She was rubbing at them, but even so, they continued to fall, disappearing as soon as they threatened to leave the contact of her ghostly body. Ignoring that last fact, she was crying.
It was enough to make him kneel beside her, arms reached out though not yet touching the pale ectoplasmic scales, hovering just above them. "Darling, are you alright? What happened?"
Alphys didn't bother to open her mouth. She shook her head.
"But, Alphys-"
"L-let's just...k-keep going…"
*Perseverance.
Remember when I said this was the last chapter in Snowdin?
Hah, I lied.
Well, I mean, unless you don't count the Temmie fight as being part of Snowdin. I still have no idea how I'm gonna write that ._.
Update schedule:
I'll still be uploading on Sundays, but which Sundays...aren't exactly certain. I'm hoping to get a chapter up next weekend as well, since I have this week off school, but no guarantees. When school's in session?
Hah, definitely no guarantees there.
I'm thinking about making something called ForumTale.
Honestly, I don't know XD It's just this stupid idea I have about replacing all the UnderTale characters with the dorks on the first UnderTale forum. Wanted to see how many of you would read that. Pretty sure they would, or at least some of them, but you guys? Not too sure.
I'm Undyne, if that helps any.
Meh.
I don't really have much else, so...reviews, I guess.
NoItsBecky: "We're patient."
I hope.
I don't mind anything, though! Maybe I didn't make it clear... I don't care about the quality of your work, as long as you try. Just anything at all makes me happy! If you spend five seconds on it then it's obvious and no one cares. But if you put your heart and soul into it, just the fact that it's inspired from my work, as selfish as that may sound, is a very nice thing to see! So please, don't feel pressured. But if you want to do something and are only worried about whether or not it'll look/sound nice, don't be.
Tatzebea: Uh...I can't find anything on Tumblr for that (there's only one post under the tag and it's not really anything...), but I found some stuff on DeviantArt for it, like Flowey the Cactus and Undyne as an alligator or crocodile or something (I don't know the difference lol). Is that it? Because I saw a reoccurring artist, so if you're Lyna-Rosengald, then holy shit, your art is amazing!
FriskedAway: Aw, thank you! I haven't heard anyone talk about my style before. How do you even tell the difference between styles? I can only really see descriptive or not. Haha...
AmamillaLaTortilla: We talked about this already XD but I'm glad other people are enjoying Mettaton as the star. I have a love/hate view of him, but he sure is fun to write for!