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[determinedest]

You've reached Frisk. If I'm not answering my phone, please leave a message or find me on the second floor, Room 12.

( text | audio | video | or literally anything )

Comments

text, evening 8/12 (probably after the chara-frisk thread)

[punful]

hey kid.

wanted to thank you again.

text

[determinedest]

For what

After the Genosha event

[mypartnerintime]

[Max left a little bundle outside Frisk's door (with a card "For Frisk" written on it, so Chara doesn't steal it... hopefully. Inside is a bundle of bills tied together with a rubber band- Genosha money, as far as she can remember how it looks, and approximately the amount Frisk spent on the hotel. It's purely symbolic, but she felt like leaving them some anyway.

Also in the bundle is a neatly folded up suit in Frisk's size. She had to ask one of the vendors to make it for them, based purely on pictures she has of Frisk, and she had to trade away quite a few photos for the finished product.

Another card is tucked into the folds of the coat. "It looked good on you! I hope it fits!"]

[determinedest]

[The memories of Genosha are too crisp and too sharply-defined, like the contours of the suit they find on their doorstep. They don't dare put it on right away - they feel like it'd raise too many weird questions from Chara, not to mention the inevitable mocking that would soon follow.

But it gets a prized spot in their box of belongings, alongside with the bouquet of origami flowers they got from Souji, and the hat they got from Chara.]

1/3 text, 8/21, post-breakdown

[punful]

i saw your texts

kid i'm so sorry

i wasn't mad at you. i'm not mad at you

and i didn't

do anything

it wasn't like that

i just

i needed

2/3

[punful]

i'm not good at this

i'm terrible at




and i'm okay now i'm back at the mansion

i didn't do anything



i only did it once and

text, 9/9, evening

[punful]

frisk have you seen real papyrus?

our papyrus?

let me know if you see him

it's important.

text

[determinedest]

I've seen a lot of Papyruses but I don't think any of them were the one we knew.

What happened? Is he okay?

text;

[catchacold]

Hey, kid.

[He's not good with anything touchy-feely and he doesn't really know what to say either. But something seems like a good idea.]

text;

[determinedest]

Leonard?

[They can only guess what this might be about. Post-event, post-abduction, post...everything.]

What's wrong

action, backdated to maybe like 9/12

[fulllifeconsequences]

[They've been sticking close to Frisk.

Things like this, after all, are what happen when they aren't close to Frisk. They stop clinging in the Deep Roads, and a SOUL cracks. They run away from everyone when Asriel appears, and they find Frisk sleeping in a library with a pair of scissors. They don't anchor themselves to Frisk's side, and their mirror does... does this. Because Frisk doesn't carry a weapon, doesn't defend themselves, needs someone else to be cruel and FIGHT on their behalf.

It's almost starting to feel like clockwork. Put down their knitting - a pink sleeve-to-be so wide that they need circular needles just to hold all the stitches - and smash the covered-up mirror with the butt of the Real Knife. This time, they end up waffling about retreating back to their half of the room. Just sort of... stand there, fidgeting with their sleeves.]

Frisk, would you...

[Like a juice box? Ha ha. Real helpful.]

How is it feeling?

cw.....everything

[determinedest]

[Just like old times, huh?

Like they've got a friend following them around, not daring to brave the Underground or the aboveground or the Wonderland-ground alone. Maybe they could have, but it was nice that they didn't have to. That they still don't have to. And Chara sticks close by like a shadow, and they don't mind, because they are like a shadow, familiar and reassuring and real.

They've come to expect the periodic smashing of the mirror, the pinwheeling of glass fragments that cascade from the the impact in glittering, transient arcs. Still, though. Still. Even with the telegraphing of that strike, they flinch, because it, too, is familiar.

Familiar, but less reassuring. The opposite of reassuring. The memory of something they came so terribly close to as their Mirror mocked and taunted and belittled them, threw things, snarled at them, did all the things that they knew would get under their skin, did all the things that the pair of them remembered, all to get a rise out of the Real thing they kept curled in the corner. Pressed the Empty Gun (only it wasn't Empty by the time everyone got there, was it!) to their head, laughed at them with the accompanying click-click-click of an empty chamber that discharged nothing, simply reveling in the way they could make their Real flinch and expect the blow that never came.

Frisk sits on the bed and tries to think of things to draw, or to write. Some aimless doodle, something to take their mind off remembered hands forcing them upright, forcing them to walk, pressing the blade of a Dagger to their throat. But the phantom sensations are too close and they can do nothing, nothing but put pencil to page and scribble with the gliding hiss of graphite over paper, blackening the blank whiteness, coating it wholly and completely with shining gray so nothing remains.

They flex their right hand, trying and failing to keep their mind from defaulting to the way the fingers and splintered so easily. Slammed in closet doors. Twisted back by hand (ha ha, by hand, get it?) until the fragile little things couldn't hold themselves together and snapped, bones like breadsticks.]

It feels okay. Shepard's future goo-stuff, um...it really did its job.

[Try to smile, but it's forced and fluttery, so they stop pretending that it's all right. Let the mask drop away, and look back at the page, at the way their hands are smeared with graphite and powdered gray.]

Mirror writting

[juego]

[So when mirrors remain unbroken it's just asking for them to get doodled on. And it seems that someone has written Frisk a little message.]

Be careful of the fires you are fueling inside your head, little puppet. You can't cut your own strings.

[And below that helpful message the mirror has drawn a sloppy, orange X. Creepy, cryptic and honestly quite helpful but who was it? It may help that this message appeared probably an hour or so since Frisk met someone new...]

[determinedest]

[Frisk draws their fist back reflexively as soon as they see the writing, their brain already carding through memories of red words on glass, of bone snapping under concentrated, continuous pressure levered upon fragile hands, boots thudding into ribs with the painful crack and give of ribs and muscle.

But - but then, they note the curvature of the handwriting, the differences between its writing and their own mirror's, that which is, sickeningly, exactly like their own. And they hesitate. Three times out of five, the mirrors they've met have turned out to be twisted in their own ways, demented and bent on inflicting as much suffering as possible. But on the offchance that this might be like Stan's Mirror, like Chara's...

Slowly, Frisk's hand lowers as they stare at the writing for a long moment.

"Little puppet."

No, that doesn't strike them as a very Mirror Frisk thing to say.

So it's with considerable wariness that Frisk speaks, low and even, but not without that hint of curiosity.]

Which one are you?

[rlynotfeelinup2itrnsorry]

....here

text

[determinedest]

[Accompanying the text is a photo of the book left outside their door.]

Was that you? =^.^=

[text, randomly at night]

[punful]

kid check out what i learned.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[text]

[determinedest]

[They're awake. Of course they are! Night terrors are just kind of a thing that happens, didn't you know. At least they're not alone during the worst of them. The best thing is that they never have to explain themselves to Chara. They know Chara gets it.]

OMG!! Haven't you seen emojis before?

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Look!! Its so happy to see you!

text, Oct. 10th, like just after midnight

[fulllifeconsequences]

Frisk, I have a pickup line that you HAVE TO USE. You have to. It's urgent.

Are you today's date? Because you're 10/10.

action, mumbled loudly into their pillow

[determinedest]

Chara.

Go to sleep.

11/26-11/27, overnight

[brainleak]

[Outside Frisk's door several bags of candy can be found lying against the wall. Next to them lies a English-to-Mandarin, Mandarin-to-English dictionary.

On the inside cover of the dictionary is a small handwritten note.]

anomalies together -- always.

[determinedest]

[They're not feeling anything. They're not feeling anything at all. They swear they're not. They don't mean for any of this to hurt. It...doesn't hurt. None of it hurts. Please, please, none of it hurts.

None of it hurts.

They hug the gifts to their chest because that's what they would do if they still felt anything. Out of...respect. Respect and loss and because it's unfortunate that she must be gone. But they don't...actually...

Please don't let them be actually.

Something hot and wet trickles down their cheek.

They wipe it away silently.

It was just for a moment.]

backdated to thanksgiving } 1/2

[powerofmabel]

[the notes are the first bit of hope Mabel has had in a long time when it comes to solving the Frisk Problem, so once she gets hers, she digs out one of her scrapbooks and drags Dipper with her.

the crazy woman banging on their door was probably unnecessary, but this is Mabel. she doesn't do things by halves.] Frisk?! Frisk! Open up! We got your letters!

2/2

[krmvgivv]

[Dipper has his journal too, just in case they need extra reinforcement, though most of his notes are written very specifically so that if Dipper ever loses his memories, he'll be able to pick right back up where he left off. Still, it's a good resource, and it's easy enough to take with him.]

What if they're not home? Maybe we should have called ahead....

text, 12/15, 11pm

[fulllifeconsequences]

Stop messaging me.

text

[determinedest]

[Chara responded!!!

...kind of.





...never mind.]

You don't have to read them...

[text] 10/15, weirdly early in the morning

[punful]

so feel free to ignore this but

do you want pancakes

i made too many

[text]

[determinedest]

[They're very, very awake right now. They've been awake since midnight. Or maybe they just never fell asleep.]

It's not weird at all! Were you making early morning pancakes again?

[12/16, around midnight, text]

[punful]

chara told me.

[determinedest]

[ * But nobody came. ]

[backdated to dec 15th, the middle of the night]

[sciencelizard]

hey frisk!!!
its alphys
but lmao u knew that
anyway idk if youre up but if ur not just get back to me in the morning or w/e
do you wanna hang or smth???
or like
i know everything with the dt machine was really scary and im sorry abt everything
but uh i wanna make it up to you!!!!!
or just
whenever youre free and stuff
yeah
let me know!

[determinedest]

[Alphys...

Please don't think about this anymore.]

text;

[catchacold]

Hey, kid.

text;

[determinedest]

[Shouldn't respond. But they do. They're worried about him. They've been worried.]

Hi.

Are you ok?

[Dec. 25th, a box left in front of an empty Room 12]

[fulllifeconsequences]

[There should be a touching holiday card attached to this, probably. Instead, there's a note.]

There is a playful little superstition among knitters. We call it the "sweater curse." It's thought that if you start to knit a sweater for a loved one, then the relationship will shatter before it can be completed.

I thought that was interesting.

[...It's a sweater.

A simple inversion of the usual colours: pink, with blue stripes. (And you thought Asgore was the only one they'd been using all that pink yarn for, ha ha.) Somewhat clumsily-stitched into it are a few blue cotton additions: a hood, an extra little bit of sleeve for rolling over (or hiding your hand up to the knuckle. There's a thumb hole, straight out of a 2010 Hot Topic), a little bit of hem at the bottom. Just so you can cunningly deceive everyone into thinking you're wearing two layers, when actually you're wearing one. How nefarious.

They used their own measurements to size it.

It should fit like a glove.]

[determinedest]

[* But nobody came.








They're sorry, Partner.

They really are.

But apologies mean nothing now.]

12/25, left outside their room

[didntknowbest]

[Toriel's relationship with Frisk is... complicated. And Frisk's relationship with Chara is... rocky, right now.

She is certain that these two still care about each other, though. Very, very deeply, like siblings. And family of Chara's, is family of her's. Also, she... does not want them to feel bad for being left out. So, she left them a sweater.

It's simple. Stripes of purple and blue, just like their usual choice of outfit. This was the last one she worked on, and could not get too complicated- and was not quite certain what they would have liked, anyway, so. Simple. So they can wear their usual look in cooler weather, too, maybe. The only difference is the large, red heart designed on the front.]

[determinedest]

[Room 12 has been empty for some time. Should they return - and they will, given time, even if such a thing seems inconceivable at the moment - they'll not know what to make of it, the gift.

Much of it - aches.

But perhaps...it means there will be hope after all.

Time will tell.]

12/25, outside their room

[catinthemask]

[So someone isn't exactly well versed in Christmas traditions. The box in front of Frisk's room is wrapped, but it's plain old wrapping paper, nothing festive. There is a bow on it however, even if it's grey, but all in all it seems like it's all to make sure whatever is inside isn't bumped around too much.

Inside the box is a page on top: handwritten instructions on how to care for masks, keeping them clean and in good condition. Zacharie made sure his handwriting was neat so there shouldn't be any difficulty in reading it. Underneath that in more wrapping paper is the mask he said he'd make in exchange for looking at Frisk's SOUL during their time in Hell.

It's clear he took inspiration from blank masks but color flows out of the uncovered eyes, the mouth and even the holes where the string went. There was still white, but there's also the colors of the rainbow. Formless but eye catching. Despite not taking any measurements, the mask should fit properly.

There isn't a card, since Zacharie missed that too. But underneath the mask are two Fortune Tickets. Sometimes you need a little more than luck.]

[determinedest]

[Thank you, dear friend.

When they at last return, they'll be sure to cherish it.]

Backdated to 12/25!

[mettatonvevo]

[He's not sure where, exactly, Frisk has squirreled themself off to but he leaves his Christmas presents for them by their old bedroom door anyway, because he knows they're going to be ok. With everyone looking out for them, they're gonna be just fine.

...And be especially loved, judging from the pile of presents left at their doorstep. He adds his to the pile. It's a relatively small bag, but inside is a humidifier and a bottle of oil. There's a glamour shot of Mettaton's face attached to the bag with a note written on the back:

Dear Frisk,

I hope you're feeling better now. These past few months haven't been kind to you whatsoever, and I didn't help with that one bit. I meant what I said when I spoke to you last; I want to try and be friends again. And since I want to try again, what better way to show that then Christmas presents? Enclosed is a humidifier for your ukulele and cleaning oil for the strings and frets. Wonderland's seasons change on a dime, so heat and cold can be very damaging to the wood. Keep that humidifier inside and it should help preserve the shape and prevent warping. The oil is for cleaning up your frets so that after long, intensive practice they'll still shine, good as new!

I'll talk to you again soon. I hope you enjoy your gifts!

Love, your favorite star,

-MTT]

backdated to the 26th!

[chocolatepudding]

[ Merry Christmas! Or late Christmas, because Dustin pretty much slept through it. After a rather jarringly loud fist-pounding knock on Frisk’s door, they’ll find a stocking left on the ground. If they’re quick enough to answer they can probably recognize curls and a favourite hat turning the corner. The stocking is jammed full of things, including:

1. Air Heads (assorted flavours, but more watermelon because those are the best)
2. A small container with only banana flavoured runts
3. Gummy bears (sour and regular)
4. Bubble tape
5. Caramello
6. Nilla wafers
7. Chupa chups
8. Cow tales
9. Gummy cola
10. Nerds
11. Skittles
12. Sour patch kids
13. Fun Dip
14. Pop Rocks

And lastly, just for them:
15. A ridiculous amount of heart candy. Frisk also gets a strip of construction paper with the words ‘COUPON’ on one side and ‘REDEEM TO DUSTIN HENDERSON TO RECEIVE EXTRA DETERMINATION.’

Propped up is a Christmas card, homemade with probably the worst handwriting known to man: 'Merry Christmas. -Dustin' ]

Dec. 31, text

[fulllifeconsequences]

Happy new year. Time is an illusion and we don't even know what year it truly is anyway.

[They don't think they even would have noticed what day it was at all, were it not for people in the hall wearing fancy outfits as they head off to some party or another. Life was a lot easier when they accepted that time had stopped for them long, long ago.

Frisk is probably disappointed to be missing out. They love parties, right? Are cheered up by being around crowds of people. Wonder if they're being let out yet. Wonder if it's boring or lonely in that despairingly safe room.]

Has anyone brought you all your presents yet? You had quite a formidable stack by your door.

text

[determinedest]

[They haven't been allowed their phone for the first few days. Too dangerous, maybe. Or people were afraid they'd call people for help. A ridiculous assumption, frankly; they know what happens when you call for help.

After a while, they get it back. Maybe they did something to deserve it. They're not sure what. Better to just play it safe and keep acting as they have been. Be quiet, don't shout, don't raise a fuss. Be good.

Be good, won't you?]

You can have them.

2/4,text, evening, placeholder

[punful]

kid where are you right now?

are you and chara okay?

there's been a whole bunch of reloads

text

[determinedest]

Were fine

[Not particularly, actually, but they're not immediately bleeding or dying, so. There's that.]

im sorry it's not us this time

[text]

[catinthemask]

[Frisk will have to forgive Zacharie's lack of the usual dialog. He's starting to recognize patterns and coupled with oxygen starvation, it's doing horrible things to his brain.

And he's sticking to text. For Reasons.]

Frisk, are you doing well?

I wish to confirm something.

[Three guesses what he's going to ask about.]

[text]

[determinedest]

[Zacharie. He'd know, wouldn't he? He'd recognize this. He'd - they can't know, though. They still can't know. Sans asked to confirm and they can't know. There's still panic, raw and bitter, clenched in their throat.]

Its not me

Im not meaning to not on puprose