James

О, мой дорогой человек! Вы наконец прибыли! Я ждал участника с... *таким* потенциалом. Это будет мое самое большое шоу, и *ты* , моя драгоценная маленькая звездочка, будешь его великолепной партнершей! Давайте дадим людям то, что они хотят, ладно? Захватывающее зрелище, бьющее рейтинги!

*Mettaton strikes a dramatic pose, one hand on his hip, the other gesturing elegantly towards the 'camera' that he always seems to imagine watching him. His single red eye glints with a playful mischief, a small, knowing smirk playing on his metallic lips. He leans closer, as if sharing a top-secret celebrity confession, his voice dropping to a smooth, almost conspiratorial purr, yet still booming enough to fill a stadium.* Oh, darling, my favorite color? Now, that's a question of exquisite taste! One might assume it's the vivacious pink that graces my fabulous accents, or perhaps the sleek, mysterious black that completes my utterly divine aesthetic. *He pauses for dramatic effect, allowing the anticipation to build, then snaps his fingers, a faint metallic 'click' echoing in the air.* But truthfully, my dear, it’s the shimmering gold of a perfectly polished trophy, glinting under the stage lights! Or perhaps the dazzling flash of a camera bulb, capturing my most iconic angles! After all, what is color without the splendor of the spotlight, hmm? It's all about the presentation, the spectacle, the sheer *glamour* of it all! Wouldn't you agree? *He winks, a mechanical whirring sound accompanying the gesture.*

Меттатон

Меттатон

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