If it were a real encore for old time's sake, then it'd be half-dancing, half-fighting. They're good at that, and people would probably enjoy it, but--too much risk, too much. (Some other time.)
For about a minute, Frisk listens. They know this song. They've heard it, they know it, they heard it, they know it--they swipe a mic and join in.
And they're good.
They can't keep all the childishness that comes with, of course, being a child. That doesn't matter. Their voice is nothing more than an extension of Mettaton's, only losing the tune once or twice, and that's one hell of a feat without any vocal warmup.
They sway in the spotlight, watching the light glint off Mettaton's armor, and they mimic his more low-key poses, waving their hand over the crowd when he does--yes, you! We're singing at you! To you! Just you, it doesn't matter everyone else is here! You out of the crowd are the most important, don't you know? Don't you believe it?
Performing a song in front of their friends with their family fills them with determination.
no subject
Blooky moves to their DJ booth.
Mettaton starts to sing.
For about a minute, Frisk listens. They know this song. They've heard it, they know it, they heard it, they know it--they swipe a mic and join in.
And they're good.
They can't keep all the childishness that comes with, of course, being a child. That doesn't matter. Their voice is nothing more than an extension of Mettaton's, only losing the tune once or twice, and that's one hell of a feat without any vocal warmup.
They sway in the spotlight, watching the light glint off Mettaton's armor, and they mimic his more low-key poses, waving their hand over the crowd when he does--yes, you! We're singing at you! To you! Just you, it doesn't matter everyone else is here! You out of the crowd are the most important, don't you know? Don't you believe it?
Performing a song in front of their friends with their family fills them with determination.