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Well, it's another morning. A pink ghost pulled themselves out of bed. Usually they'd just stay in bed while scribbling in their notebook, and go to bed when the sun set. Not much you actually need to do as a ghost, and less you want to do when you refuse to go outside.
However, they did get a TV from those weird kids.
It's pretty old, and looks like someone took a baseball bat to it. But it was free, and Susie said that it should still play shows! Now to figure out these knobs…
The TV clicks on, static quietly hissing as the system waits for a signal. The ghost wiggles the antennas around, careful to not snap the one held together with tape.
Then they get something! …The weather. Well, it's proof that it works. Two monsters that look like the sun and moon introduce themselves.
“I'm Elnina!”
“And I'm Lanino!”
They then say in unison, “Here with your hourly weather report!”
After that, their voices begin to fade out. Mmm, maybe there was a reason this was free. The feed stutters, chopping together clips and words.
“Who R you? Wh-at is your NAME?”
Before the spook has much time to think about it, the television enters a screeching feedback loop. It's frantically turned off, the ghost electing to throw it out later. It's a shame the CRT doesn't work, they were looking forward to watching fashion shows.
Another day spent sketching in bed it is…
□♡□
The ghost is awakened in the middle of the night, to the sound of a compressed voice. One that's distant, weak.
“D-D-D-DON’T touch that dial folks! We’re experiencing some technical difficulties, but we'll be right back!”
Rolling over, the ghost sees that their TV turned itself on. It glowed from across the room, presenting what looked like… a close up of oil, billowing upwards. Oil doesn't feel like the right word, it's like liquid rainbow obsidian.
“...Please...” The voice begs, growing faint. “...Don't go…” It's then drowned under the white noise. Wait, no, it sounds more like running water.
Floating towards the TV, the ghost squints at the screen. How did this thing turn itself on? Is it that broken? What channel is this?
[CUT TO BLACK]
[SCENE CHANGE]
The ghost wakes up in their bed again. They swing their legs over the side of- WOAH HEY WAIT A MINUTE!
A body! They're in a robotic, corporeal body! And these clothes…! A black crop top, with flowing long sleeves and a heart cutout in the center of their chest. A pink ruffled tube dress is worn over it, with a transparent matching shawl, as if to call back to their original form. White cartoonish gloves, black leggings, hot pink thigh high boots… are they dreaming? This is one of their sketches! One of the ‘what ifs’ they made, imagining a world where they had a body they wanted.
It's a struggle to start walking. They've lived their whole life without legs, and the four inch heels are not helping the learning curve. Once they get a good stride going, they look around. This place looks like the back stage of reality. Piles of what they can only assume is dust litter winding wooden walkways. Something giggles at them from the dark now and then.
…Then they find a door. It has a sign that says ‘green room’. Well… it's not like there's anywhere else to go. What they step into looks more like a lobby than a set. A… plug faced thing was at the front desk. Or is it a bar? They were cleaning a glass, before noticing their guest.
“A Lightner!? How!? Already!?” His name tag said ‘Ramb’.
The automaton blinks in shock. “A what? …Do you mean me?”
“Yes I mean you!” Replies the Darkner. “Look, sir, I'm sorry, but we can't take any guests right now. All we've got is the weather! We're struggling to stay afloat…”
Sir?
That's right! Despite the feminine clothing, this body is masculine… they like the sound of ‘sir’. “So this is a studio! …With no shows?”
Ramb sighs. “The relocation's been rough on all of us. We don't even have a host anymore… at least, not right now.”
“...Maybe I could help?” He doesn't know why this situation sounds familiar, but something inside him aches for this studio's plight.
Ramb stares at the robot for a moment, then pulls out a name tag and pen. “Fine. We need all the help we can get right now, and you Lightners can make miracles happen when you want to.”
Taking the pen, the Lightner writes down ‘Mettaton’. The sticker is then placed onto his chest, under their shawl.
“Follow me.” Ramb requested, walking through the door at the other side of the room. Red carpet lines the following halls, lit with stage lights and adorned with golden flourishes. “Here, we make Mr. ‘Ant’ Tenna's TV Time! Games, challenges, quizzes, Tenna has it all! Any genre you can think of, any prize you would fight for!” The guide proudly explains. But their chipper attitude quickly fades when opening a door titled ‘repairs’. “But we aren't much without our host.”
Inside is a fifteen foot tall robot, it's arms cleaved at the shoulders and set beside it's slouched frame. It had black dress pants and yellow dress shoes, but simply wore a white tank top along with them. It's suit was having it's sleeves sewn back on by a Shadowguy.
“What is that!?” Mettaton gasps.
“Tenna, our host. Before we got relocated, he struck a deal with the Roaring Knight. So we could stay on the air for just a little longer. …He didn't hold up his end of the deal.”
Mettaton looks at the man's face. He had a TV for a head, the screen only showing color bars. Completely unresponsive. “...Is he…?”
“He's still alive.” Ramb rubs the back of their neck. “He needs repairs. Lots of them. But we're over budget, and running out of time. The only show we have is the news, and not many are gonna watch that willingly. No viewers, no revenue. No revenue, no repairs. No repairs… no Tenna. Nobody wants a TV with no shows! We've already been relocated to a new audience! If we get canceled before Tenna even gets to meet them, he'll be devastated…”
“...Wait.” Looking at Tenna's head, Mettaton realized why this sounds familiar. Why this looks familiar. He didn't recognize Tenna at first, because he's never seen them without damages! “This- this is my TV! The one the kids gave me! We're in the TV!? …Or I'm at least dreaming about the TV…?”
An audience's worth of cast members and stage hands appear from seemingly nowhere, slack jawed in shock. They all shout, ”WHAT!?”
Mettaton locks up with so many eyes on them, but then one of them steps forward dragging their partner with them by the hand. The monsters- the Darkners from that news cast!
“It's you!” Elnina says, pointing to the possessed robot. “You're our new guest star! Our new audience!”
Lanino pipes up, “Doesn't that mean our first impression was that feedback loop?”
Elnina blinks, then puts her head in her hands. “AUGH, IT WAS! I'm sorry, we're not usually like this. Please don't throw us out!”
“I dunno if we've got any other options hun.” Ramb replies glumly. “We're broke. Nobody wants a broken toy. Maybe that kid with the glasses was right… we've overstayed our welcome.”
The Darkners chatter amongst themselves, trying to make the best of this situation in conflicting ways. Mettaton watches the squabble, glancing back over to Tenna. All this, because they wanted to keep living? That… that's not fair. There has to be something he can do! He scratched his head with the pen in his hand- when did he get a pen?
This multi-ink pen just… appeared in their hand? He looks to his empty hand, wondering how he did that. A quick flash of white sparkles puts a notepad in Mettaton's palm. Something about these items had Mettaton know they were his. It's hardly a surprise with all the doodling he does.
“...I could make a show.” Mettaton says, looking at their notepad's blank pages.
“Huh!?” Ramb turns back to their guest. “You- you could? Really!? But we should be making the show, not the contestants! Hun, you don't have to-”
“I want to!” The diva interjects. “It's not fair that you guys got all messed up! Is there a set?”
Two shadowguys perk up, grabbing the Lightner by the shoulders and ushering him to the stage. The rest of the staff quickly follow suit, some like Ramb staying behind to monitor Tenna's recovery.
“Woah, okay! Can you- GAH!” Mettaton is tossed into Tenna's director's seat, which is comically large compared to the Lightner. With so many people looking at him, it takes a moment for Mettaton to recompose himself. He points to the weather couple. “You guys can act, right?”
“Well enough.” Lanino replies.
“Why?” Elnina asks.
“Okay!” Mettaton begins to sketch ideas into his notepad. “Was thinking something like Romeo and Juliette, with a dragon! You two could be the lead rolls, and-” His explanation is cut off by many outcries of surprise.
Looking up from their notepad, Elnina was suddenly in a princess dress! The princess dress that… that Mettaton drew! Looking back to the notepad, Mettaton wants to make sure that wasn't a fluke. Scribbling anew, Lanino was soon in a matching prince costume!
This notepad, it was magic! Mettaton had magic! They could make anything they can draw! Inspiration takes hold, as Mettaton begins properly directing the staff. His enthusiasm is contagious, hope sparking among them. This could work! They can do this!!
□♡□
Tenna's face flickered back onto his screen. Ugh, he felt like he was hit by a truck. He rolled his shoulders, stretched his reattached arms.
“Boss!” Ramb cheered. “Welcome back, luv!”
A shadowguy handed Tenna his suit. Back on his feet, their titular host put it on. “How long was I out?”
“Oh… twelve hours. Give or take.” Ramb replies.
“WHAT!?!?” Tenna shouted, before running out of the room.
“LUV, WAIT!” Ramb called after him. “YOU NEED TO TAKE IT EASY, WE JUST REPAIRED YOU!”
Tenna ignored them, making a mad dash for the set. They're so close to a reboot, this can't be how his studio gets canceled! He kicks himself for spending so much of the studio's savings to impress Kris, then he might've gotten back on his feet sooner! Who wants a TV that can barely play the weather!? After all they went through, after Susie's efforts, were they really gonna miss the mark by one point? He can't-!
Rushing onto the set, Tenna sees… what is very much not the weather.
Elnina and Lanino were dressed like royalty, on top of a slain dragon prop. They sang of how they'd always be together, as the sun set behind them.
“Aaaand credits!” A voice piped up from Tenna's seemingly empty chair. “Perfect, perfect, you were all perfect! Absolutely wonderful!” Credits roll, and most props and backgrounds vanish with the sound of ripped paper. Walking up to his chair, he sees a giddy Lightner in his usual spot.
He picks the Lightner up by the collar of their shirt, for the sake of a closer look. The stranger's pen and notepad vanish as they yelp, confidence disappearing as they look to Tenna anxiously. “I don't remember hiring a co-host.”
The studio staff clamor around their lead role, relieved that he's okay! There's abundant chatter as everyone tries to catch him up to speed at once. He's learned to pick through it over the years, it's rare for these guys to talk one at a time.
Okay, the studio's saved! Great, how? This Lightner? Weird, he's not used to them making the games instead of playing them. What do you mean the Lightner? …No. No way. You mean this little pink guy…!
[CUT TO GAMESHOW SET]
“WELCOME BACK, EVERYBODY!” Tenna announced, the shocked Lightner behind a podium marked ‘MTT’. “Thank you so, SO much for sticking with us! That should be the last of our technical difficulties for a while. And you have our new co-star to thank for that!” He motions to the Lightner, who grows pale as the spotlights focus on him. The audience cheers. “We wouldn't be here without him, so please! GIVE IT UP FOR-”
“CUT!” Mettaton cries, hiding behind his podium. The performance screeches to a halt, power cutting from the entire set. The only light is the glow of Tenna's screen. Tenna didn't think that the limelight could make someone so upset. Realizing his excitement driven mistake, Tenna shrinks down to be the same height as his new co-star.
“...Mettaton?” Tenna walks to the podium, crouching down next to his contestant.
Mettaton had his knees pulled to his chest, face hidden. “Don't look at me… I'm ugly…”
Tenna sighs. “I didn't realize you had stage fright. It… it should've been obvious, now that I think about it. I got carried away, and I apologize for that.”
Mettaton looks up from his nervous huddle, to see Tenna offering him a handkerchief for his tears. Mettaton quietly takes it, rubbing his face.
“But… I gotta ask.” Tenna continues. “Are you pulling my leg? You, ugly? Am I missing something?”
Mettaton blinks, looking back over to the smiling Darkner. “You don't think I'm…?”
“Course not, dollface!” Tenna replied. “Why, I'd go as far to say you're a star in the making! Here, we got off on the wrong foot.”
[REWIND]
Mettaton's back in the director's seat, and the crowd is gone. Tenna's back to his usual size, offering a pinkie to shake. “I'm Mr. ‘Ant’ Tenna! You can just call me Tenna. What's your name?”
The Lightner shakes the Darkner’s finger, a smile finding a way onto his face. “...Mettaton. My name's Mettaton.”
“It's a pleasure to meet you, Mettaton.” Tenna says warmly.
Withdrawing their hand, Mettaton has a chuckle that's bittersweet. “This dream is so weird… I hope I remember this when I wake up. I'll write it down if I do. Even if it isn't a dream, somehow, I can't stay forever. My family would be worried sick if I just disappeared. Napstablook already worries so much about me…”
Oh. Right. This can't be forever. It's almost morning, and Tenna's new friend needs to go home. They just met, but Mettaton already needs to leave. But hearing Mettaton hope to just remember their time here, he wants to give Mettaton proof that this world is real. And they'd love to have the Lightner visit again.
“If you can only recall one thing when you head back to Lightworld, remember this.” Tenna lightly knocks on his own head.
Knock knock-a knock knock
“Just gimme the signal, and I'll come running.” Tenna promises, hiding the all too familiar hole growing in his chest. He's not gonna come back. He'll leave like the others.
“Okay?” Mettaton giggles. “So... how do I leave anyway?”
“I'll handle that dollface, don't you worry your pretty little head. See you on the other side!”
Tenna snapped his fingers.
[CUT TO BLACK]
[METTATON'S HOUSE, INTERIOR]
Wow, he didn't think a ghost could sleep so badly. The sun peeks through closed curtains, as Mettaton clings to fleeting memories. That was all so weird… but also… nice? He looks to his sketchbook, half expecting the drawings he made of fantastical romance would carry beyond the veil. But no, there's no new sketches. He picks up his pen, wanting to immortalize that fleeting joy at the edges of his mind.
He remembers the knock.
He looks over to the television he decided to throw out today. Could it really…? No, there's no way. The ghost floats over anyway, feeling silly as he decides to try something so absurd. He taps the top of the CRT.
Knock knock-a knock knock
…
Blink blink!
The screen flickered to life, playing an old game show intro. Nononono, there's no way. This TV is so old and busted, maybe… this is just a VHS that's stuck in the slot? And it played while he slept? It would explain the weird dream. But that still doesn't explain how he knew what Tenna looked like.
Any logical explanation Mettaton tries to tell himself flies out the window when the intro ends. It shows Tenna, on his game show set. Looking right into the camera. At Mettaton.
“...You remembered.” Tenna said, shock turning into elated joy. “You remembered, you actually remembered!!” The host laughed as he ran towards the camera, scooping it up in a spinning hug. “Dollface! Mettaton! It's me, Tenna! Wow, you look so different in Lightworld!”
Mettaton stammered, being hit with multiple realizations. “Wh- how!? I thought- can you hear me!?”
“Loud and clear, Dolly! You won't have to worry about feedback loops anymore, you were a big help fixing that issue!”
“That means- you- I-” Mettaton looks between his sketchbook and television, as if that will give him answers.
“A whole world of media is your oyster now! Any channel, any genre! We've got a good collection of games too, if you've got a compatible console! And that's not counting what we could do with a return visit to my studio, if you're so inclined~! So, what do you wanna do today?” Tenna proudly grins, awaiting an answer.
…Mettaton laughed! A bright, delighted laugh. This has been the weirdest day of his life. He knows everything is going to change after this, with everything that he's learned as real. He has no idea what the future holds now, but one thing's certain.
This old TV's here to stay!