"Our first exhibition!"
Mettaton's extended arm reaches across Aofil's shoulders. The metal sections chaff against Aofil's exposed neck, like a cheese grater. He grabs Aofil's furthest shoulder and gently tries to convince Aofil towards him. When Aofil stays put, Mettaton tries again, this time with a bit more convincing behind his tug.
Still with his winning smile he mouths a reminder to Aofil, "Contract!" while moving his microphone away from his mouth. He tugs at Aofil's shoulder a third time, but Aofil couldn't care less.
A subtle but still noticeable twitch tilts Mettaton's head. His smile changes ever so slightly, and he retracts his arm, "Is this wonderful human," he continues. As the camera tilts up Mettaton kicks away the chair from underneath Aofil. He catches them before they hit the ground, and pushes them up next to him where he locks them in place. His arm wraps around Aofil just out the view of the camera and the surrounding balconies.
Mettaton bends over and runs his free hand on Aofil's shirt, "Made from the highest quality of human created fabric, and donned with yours truly most truly magnificent and glamorous visage. This garment screams Surface professional. A blend of human and monster. Fuse the two together this very week as it launches in all MTT branded fashion operations the country over, and under, for those of you darlings joining in from the Underground."
Aofil's getting really sick of the amount of times they've been wrapped up today. Can't struggle out of this either, Mettaton only squeezes harder. If anything he's holding back the pulses from their arm. Whatever slim positive that is.
"And complementing my generous share of the fabulous star power that is me, is this year's hottest trendsetter. From the mind of the greatest designer, voted all years by the MTT fashion conglomerate, me, comes the perfect piece to complete all you at home puzzling about what to wear."
Mettaton releases Aofil ever so slightly, and an avalanche of sick rushes from their arm throughout their body. They grunt as it spreads, feeling light headed. Mettaton can't have any of that though, so before Aofil manages to bend their stomach to contain their sick, he pushes his hand against their spine to straighten Aofil out.
Mettaton lifts up Aofil's fur covered arm up to exhibit the leather sleeve, "This here, my lovelies, is what you've all been waiting for. A jacket for your arms! A glorious, and dare I say it, brilliant piece of craftsmanship to complete your puzzle of what to wear."
Aofil feels the fur scrape against the leather. It's coming off! They jerk their arm out of Mettaton's hand. For a brief second Mettaton's face slips, and he shoots a look towards Aofil. Aofil returns it, but before the camera can refocus, Mettaton spins Aofil around.
"All shirts and underpieces from this year's collection are meticulously designed to accommodate for this new trend of jackets, my dear viewers. As you can see, you will never risk obscuring my beautiful visage. Non believers, and other lesser scum, have already dared question me about why I would ever release an autumn collection that doesn't provide any heat management. I pity those, for they are weak of mind, they don't understand the amount of effort and thought behind these clothes. You'll never risk running cold."
Mettaton throws Aofil back into their seat as he strikes a pose for the camera, "Because you'll always be the hottest person around!"
The restaurant explodes in a roar of applause and cheering. It sounds suspiciously like it's coming from the speakers littered all around the restaurant, but Aofil is too hunched over in pain to check.
"Moving on!" Mettaton cheers, "To all you lovelies that know that perfection is Mettaton, and that Mettaton's dresses dresses just as a spider spins silk. And speaking of spiders, allow me to introduce my next exhibit!"
Muffet waves to the camera while Mettaton positions himself. He offers her a hand, and helps her up on her feet when she accepts it. She spins her around, her dress sparkling like the stars on a cloudless night.
The entire room heaves a collective awe, and Aofil has to suppress the envious thought asking why they didn't receive the same praise.
Mettaton sighs deeply, "My dear and wonderful, thanks to me," Mettaton adds quickly without missing a beat, "Muffet, if it weren't for me or the rest of my collection, you would be the brightest star present. How the silk flows over your body, how it's pattern brings the eye to where it should be. A dress to impress, and impress you do."
He drags Muffet close to him, holding her arms tightly against his chest. With his other hand he strokes her hair, causing interference through the microphone he's holding, "And the crystal holding up the silkiness of your hair that almost rivals the quality of my design."
Mettaton leans Muffet down into his arm, tilting the back of her head up to the camera, "Chosen by our well founded and educated MTT crystal experts, and hand picked from the deepest nooks of the Crystal Cave, MTT invites you to shine bright like a diamond, wherever you are. Crystals of all sizes and shapes will be available, but make your reservations quickly."
Mettaton bows as the sound of applause again roars. He eases a giggling and blushing Muffet down into her chair, and kisses her hand.
Why is Aofil feeling envious? This isn't normal, what's happening with them?
Mettaton notices, and a faint smirk engages his lips, "So, my dear darlings," he says while reaching for Aofil. Their sick is too much for them to fight back, and they hope Mettaton doesn't squeeze too hard. He doesn't, but he's firm enough that Aofil has to follow his lead to Muffet.
"Human," Mettaton presents to the camera, "and monster," he picks Muffet up again, "two worlds, joined together. First in society, and now, more importantly, through fashion, and even more importantly," Mettaton brings the two together, forcing the one to embrace the other. Aofil barely manages to hold their sick back as they half crash into Muffet, "joined in fashion, by me. And now!"
None too subtly, Mettaton presses Aofil's and Muffet's heads together, "On with the show!"
Aofil's lips are pressed against Muffet's burning cheek. Good thing they didn't hit her lips. Mettaton's silent, "Humpf," tells a different story. He sneakily smacks the side of Aofil's head so that their lips slants off Muffet's cheek. He applauds, and the stage below explodes with confetti.
Mettaton poses for the camera, and Aofil takes the opportunity to stumble away while clutching their stomach and arm. They take support against the wall outside the balcony, and tries desperately to control their breathing. It was just a small sip of wine, it shouldn't be this bad. Mettaton isn't helping in any way, shape, or form. Is it him? Is it Muffet?
The drape behind them flutters, and Muffet peeks her head out worryingly. She grips and twists the velvet in her hand, "H-human?" she asks. Seeing Aofil hunched over, barely containing themselves, she looks down, and with another hand she strokes her cheek carefully.
Aofil struggles to turn around, but Muffet gives them a determined look before bolting back out to the balcony. What's she doing?
The speakers go quiet after an inquisitive hum from Mettaton. A second or so after, the microphone hits the ground loudly, and the drapes come crashing down.
"Darling! Muffet, what are you doing?"
A varying number of limbs punch and fumble their way out of the wrapped up red fabric. Muffet finds her way out of the bundle first, and she drags out a wrapped up Mettaton out of it. With a stare she spins him around to face Aofil, "What did you do to them, M?"
Mettaton extends his neck so that the camera can't spot Aofil, "Beside making them fantastic beyond their own imagination?"
Muffet's eyes narrow, hard. She tucks at the string connecting to Mettaton with all her might. His body falls, but his head stays the same level. Although his head is smiling, his hands are waving around in anger to Muffet.
She points an angry finger, and pushes the rest of her knuckles steadily against her sides. Mettaton's body turns around, and search for a chin that isn't there. Instead he taps on his own shoulders.
"Now, allow me to list the very long collection that will unfortunately not join us this wonderful evening. Fear not though, my sweet babies and loves, they will still be available for purchase!"
Coming to no clear consensus with Mettaton's body, Muffet wraps him up tighter, and drags him with stubborn steps. Mettaton swings his neck around so that the camera points the other way.
"What did he do, human?" Muffet asks, tugging against Mettaton's futile attempts to flee. Mettaton pleads to Aofil, or at least, his hands does. His head is still busy listing his collection.
"I'm," Aofil puts a hand up to their mouth, "He..."
But they can't form a sentence, it's too risky.
"Was it the food?" Muffet asks.
Aofil didn't have any. They shake their head.
"Or was it..." Muffet's grip loosens on Mettaton. With a couple of violent spins he breaks loose from the webbing and rushes back to his head to strike a pose. Muffet looks down on the torn up strings, and back up to Aofil. She touches her cheek again, "me?"
No it wasn't! You stupid dense spider! Aofil clutches their head. Dammit! Another wave.
"Are you feeling this because of me?" Muffet asks quietly. Her eyes move down her dress, "I thought..."
"It's," Aofil forces out despite tethering on the edge of vomiting, "not you. I'm allergic to..."
But their sick is too strong for Aofil to hold in. They dive their head into a nearby pot plant. Muffet stares in fear as Aofil heaves heavily. Her eyes explode in rage after the second heave, and she rolls up the sleeves on her arms, "The wine! The humans!"
"And that concludes the letter 'A'!" Mettaton proudly announces, "Now onto..."
Aofil hears the speaker above them muffle, and as they catch a break from their heaving, they turn their head towards the silent commotion.
They catch just the barest of a glimpse of Mettaton being hauled in a silky cocoon out of the balcony entrance. His feet jiggle around before he's hauled up towards the restaurant ceiling. The collective gasp of confusion and fear fills Aofil's ear, but another sound drowns it out immediately.
A laugh, a guffaw. A very familiar sound of spiteful giggling.
"You sparkle like a pompous chandelier! Is being wrapped up like a hunk of punk junk part of your collection?" shouts Undyne before descending into another fit of sharp chortles. Where is she? On the stage? How loud can she make herself?
The speaker muffles complaints and protests, but that only intensifies Undyne's howls of insults and laughs.
Muffet descends from atop the balcony frame. Aofil can't help but feel very uncomfortable seeing her crawl like an actual spider, but that could also be that another wave is on its way. She drops down and disengages the string attached to her and the frame. How she does it Aofil will never ask. Muffet lands on two feet, thankfully, and rushes over to Aofil, "Human?"
Aofil motions for her to back up a bit, "Don't want to stain you or your dress," they joke before going back to the pot.
Muffet hesitates to stop, and does so while rubbing her hands, "Can I help?"
"Water."
She nods, and heads out to the balcony again. The speaker muffles something, but Muffet ignores it. She returns with Aofil's glass and the can of water, "Here, human."
Aofil drinks greedily, "More."
Muffet fills it quickly, almost as its second nature to her.
Aofil can't help but crack a smile, "Refiling sits in the wrist?"
Muffet nods with a giggle, "It's my job."
A couple more glasses later Aofil feels that they've soothed as much as they can. Drinking more would only make them uncomfortable from too much water. They request an arm from Muffet, and she hands one to help. Aofil's feeling very light headed, "Can you help me find Alphys?"
Muffet helps Aofil up, still with the can in one of her hands. She's got plenty to spare, so why not keep it just in case? With Aofil leaning as little they can against her the two of them make their way down the corridor.
"Do you know where she is?" Muffet asks, "Maybe backstage?"
"Yeah," Aofil nods, "that's my thinking. Don't know how to get there though. What with Mettaton blindfolding us while taking us up here."
The two sidestep a small crowd of monsters in a hurry with a large ladder running towards the busted balcony. The clipboard monster from before follows the crowd, still with its nose down deep into the board, "Hurry up! M needs to start the show! He'll have our jobs if we don't shut up Undyne as well!"
Aofil waves their hand in front of the clipboard. They don't seem to catch the monster's attention, so they carefully bend down the clipboard. They're met with a burning glare that's screams murder, "Yeah, hello, we need to get backstage."
"And I need to do my job," the monster hisses back before realizing who the ones that rudely interrupted him are, "You!" the monster points, "What you've done is a breach of contract! A formidable one as well!"
God dammit, of all monsters to run into. Aofil tries to figure out a way to convince the monster, but before they can begin to think, Muffet grabs the clipboard with a steadfast hand.
She throws it in the air and leaves it dangling on a string just out of the monster's reach, "You either tell us where we can get backstage, or you call for the ladder to come back."
The monster watches in fear as the crowd he commands sets up the ladder on the balcony. The speakers above muffles a cheer, and the restaurant begins to applaud. The applauds fade as the ladder begins to shake. Down it rushes a monster with a hardhat swaying back and forth as it sprints towards Muffet and Aofil, "What's the code for the chandelier alarm, chief?"
The clipboard spins slowly above the two panicked monsters, "It's on the clipboard..." whimpers the chief.
Another hard hat wearing monster comes rushing down the hall, "Chief! We need you! M is trying to say something!"
The chief clutches his head, "Argh! Use the elevator! Press and hold the basement floor for three seconds, and then release for two before pressing again!" and takes off towards the balcony.
Muffet summons a friendly smile, "Thank you," and continues with Aofil down the corridor.
Aofil looks over their shoulder, "The clipboard?"
Muffet covers her mouth with a daintily hand, "Ahuhuhu. I've already breached my contract, so..."
Aofil joins in her chuckle, "They do have a ladder, right? Shouldn't be a problem."
"Fufufufu."
The elevator open a second after Aofil summons it. Must've been waiting on their floor. They hold the basement button for three seconds, release it for two, and then hold it for three more. The doors close just as chief monster comes back to his still out of reach clipboard.
"Should give us some time too," Aofil comments, "before Mettaton comes charging at us."
Undyne's laughter can even be heard inside the elevator. This must be one of her best days ever. Aofil is correct in their guess. A moment after she shouts just the same thing.
The elevator door opens to a group of perplexed monsters. The group scan the elevator, but there's only Muffet and Aofil in it, "Where's the chief?"
"Busy with M," Aofil relays, "Sent us down to talk with Alphys."
Technically they're not lying.
The monsters look at each other.
"To get some spare parts," Aofil adds.
That one was a lie though.
"Yeah, but," says one in the group, and lifts a claw towards Muffet, "she was the one that strung him up."
"All part of the show," Muffet smiles, "I'm under contract, remember? Ahuhuhu."
Aofil's impressed by her ability to control a crowd. Daily practice with her spiders. Must be it.
"You want to defy M's orders?" she continues while putting one hand on her hip.
A collective panic ensues, and the monsters scramble away busily. A single sentence to part a sea of monsters. Impressive.
Problem is, Aofil forgot to ask where Alphys is. Dang it.
"So, right or left?" Aofil asks, moving their head from one direction to the other.
Muffet twists her lips, "Hm..." and knocks carefully on the wall. A spider hauls itself down. She lets it land on her finger before putting it up to her mouth. She whispers something to it, moves it to Aofil, and then tosses it back up the wall. It disappears between some cracks, "Shouldn't be long," she assures.
A minute or so later a loud squeal comes from a far ways to the right.
"Right it is," Aofil says, and head down from the direction of the squeal.
Muffet points to a door labeled 'Maintenance' with a very ornate and pink 'M', and finds Alphys picking up some pieces of a smashed gadget when Muffet opens it. Alphys drops the gadget again when she spots Aofil in the doorway, and it breaks further, "A-Aofil!"
They turn to Muffet with a nod, "Thanks for you help, Muffet. I'm sorry if the lunch didn't turn out that well."
Muffet clamps her hands together and sway them from side to side while scratching the back of her shin with her other foot, "I had fun, human. Ahuhuhu."
Aofil's stomach rumbles, loudly, "Too bad we didn't get to eat."
"There's always doughnuts at my place," Muffet suggest, kinda, maybe, not really, but still. Her cheeks blossom, but Aofil just chuckles.
"If I decide to move here, I'll make sure to visit."
Muffet leans up to Aofil, and they offer their cheek. After a small peck, Muffet hands Aofil the remaining water along with a glass, "Just in case," She waves goodbye, and giggles down the hallway, "Fufufufufu."
The small spider lands on her shoulder, and also waves to Aofil.
Aofil closes the door behind them, "Alphys, I need your help."
She puts away the broken gadget, and cleans the oil off her hands on a nearby, well used, towel, "S-sure. I-if it's not s-something big. I-I need to help Mettaton with t-this."
Aofil motions for her to sit down, "It is a big one."
With a worried look, and even worried hands, she takes a seat. She swallows hard, "Y-yeah?"
"Remember when I had my, well, fusion, with Asriel?"
Whether Alphys nodded, or if she's shaking out of fear, Aofil can't tell, but they continue regardless, "You see, I don't think we split completely. Or at least, that's how I see it."
They struggle their arm out of their leather jacket, and show their arm to Alphys.
She freezes, her color drains completely, almost matching the glistening white of the fur on Aofil's arm. Her hands searches desperately for her tail. She grips it like a ferrule, and drags it up to her head, "W-w-what i-is that?"
"The thing I need your help with."