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Oh...oh, it's alright, I'll move it. You needn't worry yourselves on my account. I did just...leave it there.

[The tone in his voice isn't...pleasant as he refers to his body. But even so, there's a twinge of discomfort. Small at first, but it catches, and the ghost averts his gaze downward. Since he is a ghost and has no pupils, the movement is subtle, but still noticeable compared to his usual body language.]

I wouldn't mind having you over, but of course...like I said, you needn't worry.

[Worry. Concern. Such admirable traits for someone who barely requires the attention. Just a pitiful snail farmer with a dream and no means. That's how he feels now, even though Mettaton knows much better than that. He made a life for himself.

One that ended in blood...]