@daisyscape asked: The first voicemail Faust leaves Merry comes in the morning, the sound of clinking pots carrying through the receiver with his voice. "Merry ! Haven't heard from you in a while, so I just wanted to check on you. Oh—" A shuffle and a click of his tongue. "That's not sugar... it's salt. Oh well, it'll still taste fine. Anyway, I'll call again in a little while !"
"A little while" turns out to be that night, another voicemail coming in. This time Faust can be heard yelling over a cacophony of music and chatter in the background. "Merry ! Tried to call again, but you're probably busy, yeah ? When you go to sleep, don't forget to put on some socks so nothing nibbles on your toes. Sweet dreams !" Unfortunately, Faust forgets to click off the call, and for several more moments, his laughter and bubbly voice mix with the chatter around him.
The last voicemail comes in the early hours of the middle of the night. Unlike before, Faust's voice is layered with exhaustion and drowsiness yet still soft. "Merry, dear ? Sorry for calling again, but... are you okay? I'm worried about you." It's obvious he's hesitant, like testing tumultuous waters one shouldn't breach. "I know Florian and I probably aren't easy to talk to. But we're here for you, okay ? Call me whenever you like, I'll pick up. Love you." Click.
it hasn’t always been this bad. not really. there’s always been something fundamentally off about merry, and they’ve been aware of it their entire life — it’s like they’re dislocated a half - inch to the left from where they’re meant to be in this world, and that difference has him brushing up against sharp edges with every movement. it tears into the very flesh of his being, and nothing heals so nothing can scar. he’s just stuck bleeding, more and more with every movement in this world.
and it’s one of those days where those wounds on its spirit are particularly tender and now there’s some blot catching in its throat.
the first time faust calls, merry’s hands are gripping the edge of the sink, chest heaving as he makes sure he’s done coughing for now. some black drips over his lips, the bathroom door magicked shut so they have a little time to clean up should anyone try to come in.
moments later the voicemail notification pops up, and it clicks play as it wipes the last remnants of blot from its lips and scoops water from the faucet into its hands to swish around in its mouth.
he’ll have to call faust back later.
the second voicemail is listened to in the forest that backs up to campus. their phone’s atop their jacket on the ground in this place they escape to when they need to.
they can burn off magic here. they can self - destruct. getting here’s not hard, even if other students might get lost on their way; but these woods aren’t that unlike those of the valley, and navigating them doesn’t take much for someone as good at getting lost as merry is.
merry’s all fire as it listens to the voicemail — listens to the music and chatter behind faust’s voice, listens to what it can hear when faust doesn’t hang up. the fire burns a blazing blue. the trees char. a half - inch becomes an inch, and something has to give.
merry curls in on themself in the middle of the burnt - black clearing, tears falling freely. they can’t tell if they’re choking on sobs or blot until they’re throwing some up, shoulders heaving and shaking.
merry listens to the third voicemail shortly after it’s delivered, staring up at the stone ceiling of his diasomnia bedroom. he hasn’t slept.
he cries again, but this time it’s less violent. this time it’s a hopeless sort of thing, aching and burning. he’s not good. he’s unfair and ———
[ text:Faust ] yeah i’m okay!! sorry for worrying you
[ text:Faust ] busy time over here with interschool stuff coming up lol
[ text:Faust ] i’ll call tomorrow
it was easier when they were closer, back in the valley.
merry doesn’t know how to be left behind.