Undertale: Fallen Angel

Keeping Busy

Lights. Camera. Action.

Over the years, that old phrase made up of three simple words has since elevated to something of higher importance- almost indescribable to a mere viewer. It is a phrase that's as old as digital entertainment itself, pre-existing the birth of Stellablook, and even the king's injudicious declaration of war.

Ever since he gained his true form, those three words have permeated through Mettaton's metallic body, reaching the depths of his SOUL. It's not just a phrase. It's his life motto. Better yet, his life's purpose. Those exact words are what he internalizes in his head right as he's about to do what he was created- no, born to do.

Standing behind a thin veil of burgundy red curtains is a monster whose popularity rivals that of Undyne, or even King Asgore for that matter. However, most have questioned if the term: "monster" appropriately suits the artificial nature of the iconic celebrity.

Though, he certainly wouldn't be considered 'human' either, which becomes obvious at first glance. While adopting a physical shape best resembling one, similar to Papyrus and his less popular older brother, Mettaton's "skin" is composed mostly of pale grey metal.

He sports a gorgeous set of black hair, with a fringe of it hanging down and covering his right eye. Above and below the other, almost creating a dark outline, are bold grey metal segments. A design flaw he at first disliked, but grew to appreciate, as in his words, it gave his appearance some additional "oomph."

Oomph could certainly sum up the rest of the robot's flamboyant style. The passionate superstar has always placed a high priority on one's fashion sense, and his body is all but the exception to that standard.

Decorating the majority of his torso is a domineering pink chest piece, with a curved, upside-down see-through pentagon engraved beneath it. Behind the enforced glass, remaining within the robot's interior is his pink SOUL. The only remnant of his time in the wrong body. A part of Mettaton that makes up his very being, more so than the bolts and wiring keeping him together.

Black shoulder pads extend from the top of his arms, matching the color of his legs. Stripes run along his pale arms, ending at the edge of his white hands. Finally, his feet are modeled in the shape of pink, high-heeled boots.

A body worthy of his distinctive spark. Its impeccable design warrants the praise of its creator: the Great Dr. Alphys. Its one initial drawback, that being inadequate energy consumption, was solved half a decade ago after the brilliant scientist constructed a revolutionary new battery. His gratitude surpassed even that of the humans for her contribution.

With practiced patience, Mettaton stands before the wall of red, counting down the seconds until the show begins. He'd always wanted to entertain the surface as far back as his sharp memory recalls. When the time came to do so, that being the very first inaugural celebration of the monsters' freedom, he was plagued with irony.

Nervousness caught hold. Mild stage fright as he would later realize. A concept he previously mistook as a silly myth. Fortunately for him, his cousin: Nabstablook, along with the rest of the crew had been there to assist in the instrumentals and ease his nerves. So he preserved. Then he performed. And the rest will go down in history. Like he always dreamed.

On the other side of the large curtains are numerous voices combining to form one singular body of anticipation and excitement. Hearing this, Mettaton is certain the event was completely booked. As was customary for one of his venues. The large auditorium is capable of housing a maximum of fifteen thousand willing audience members for tonight's show. With the dimming of the lights above, the robot gets into position.

Catching onto the indicator, the audience bursts in cheers of anticipation, before just as quickly quieting down. Everyone in the building now patiently waits. The two large curtains depart from one another at last, revealing a single hot-pink stage. In the middle stands a recognizable figure shrouded in darkness.