* IC Inbox

[fulllifeconsequences]

Speak.

[Wow okay cool voicemail there Chara. Voice/text/video away to your heart's content.]

Comments

[fulllifeconsequences]

Please, Frisk. Give it time.

Let him lie low until he's ready to see people. Until he feels safe. Let me... let me put myself together.

I can't see him yet. I can't.

cw self-harm

[determinedest]

...alright.

I'm sorry. I just want to make sure you're alright and that you won't do something to yourself.

[Hah. Look who's talking. There's a fresh pair of scissors in their room.]

help!!!! these!!! kids!!!!!

[fulllifeconsequences]

[If it weren't over text, they could just laugh and say nothing else. They sort of completely dropped the ball on pretending they weren't considering some... some pretty desperate things, but... Frisk had already guessed that much, anyway, considering the way they'd reacted the first time Asriel had left.

They've given up on trying. They don't think they can try, not in the way Frisk wants them to right now. But they can sort of... dodge left or right instead of going forwards, maybe. They don't want to be around anyone, they don't think they're capable of being forgiving or comforting or whatever it is they're supposed to be right now, but...

They're... friends, right?]

I won't see him. I can't. But... um, do you need to see me? I can still manage being a whisper in the back of your head, I think.

[determinedest]

Ever?

I can go between you if you need me to but I can't do that forever.

[fulllifeconsequences]

I'm not asking you to play messenger. Forget the distant future. I was asking if you wanted to... I don't know. You sounded kind of lonely and desperate when you first sent me like 11 messages at once.

You know what? Forget it.

[determinedest]

I am scared. And lonely. And I do n't want to feel this way but I don't know what else to do. I can't make you do anything and I shouldn't anyway.

But I don't know what else to do.

[fulllifeconsequences]

If you don't spring some kind of ill-thought-out ambush or something, and if you don't talk about it... I'll come see you, alright? You'll feel better. We'll both see we're okay, and it won't even feel like a big deal for you anymore. We can... sort it out a little better, I guess.

[It feels like a mistake. They don't want to do this. They want to stop being in control and functional and just crumble somewhere nobody's going to see it. They type it out and hit send anyway.]

[determinedest]

[Honestly, it's a big step up from how things were before. They'll take it.]

Alright.

Thanks.

Take care of yourself.