my favorite memetian

[miasmajesty]

 

 

The Last Words Meme

This is it. The final curtain. You're at the end of your life, and there's someone here you really, really need to say something to before you die. 


(TRIGGER WARNING. This meme deals heavy with death and also possibly with strong violence or with suicide/depression. If you are not comfortable reading about that, please PLEASE do not proceed further.)



HOW IT WORKS:
Getting your numbers from RNG (or pick your own), the first character to post rolls for their cause of death and how long they have left to live. They then post to the meme with their name, canon and the results of their roll. (For example: "Jane Doe | That One Series | 1 2" would mean Jane Doe from That One Series died of accidental causes and has a few hours left to live.) 

Responding characters then roll for the relationship between the two of you. Optionally responding characters can also share your cause of death/time left to live or roll for their own, but that's not required. A living character caring for (or horribly mutilating) a dying one is fine, too.

Tell the person what you need to tell them before you bite it. 

As usual, all meme's are open to interpretation. If you want to play an AU immortal, yay. If you want to be sucked into another dimension or shoved into a tiny glass box, also fine. YOUR PLAY, NOT MINE.



CAUSE OF DEATH

1 - Accidental. Nobody meant for this to happen, but it doesn't matter now. Due to negligance, arrogance or just plain bad luck, you've become gravely ill or injured and are now in your last moments. This covers all kinds of accidental deaths--strangulation, drowning, car accidents, unintentional beheadings, whatever you can think of. 

2 - Murder. Somebody really didn't like you. Enough to kill you, it seems. You're now dead by someone else's hand. (Maybe even the person replying to you?) As with accidental death, this covers all types of intentional, malicious murder, regardless of method--so poisoning, stabbing, shooting, etc., all work here. Same with all the below options: any possible variation you can think of on it will work!

3 - Suicide. There is no hope for you, and no way out. You've reached the absolute bottom pits of despair, and the only recourse you have is to take your own life. Someone shows up to stop you... but they're too late to help you now.

4 - Terminal illness. You have cancer, or tuberculosis, or cholera back when people got cholera. The doctors have done everything they could and it wasn't enough. The only thing to do now is give your loved ones the bad news.

5 - Starvation. So thirsty. So hungry. Maybe you've been traveling in the desert for hours, or maybe you're just really poor. Whatever the reason, it doesn't matter, because you're slowly wasting away until you're nothing but skin and bones.

6 - Death in battle. You've died a hero's death, and gone out in a blaze of glory. Or maybe you were a coward who got shot for deserting? Either way, you're now a casualty of war. Will you be honored with a parade or scorned as a traitor to your country? 

7 - Natural causes. You've lived a long, happy life, and now your story is at an end. In a warm bed, surrounded by your family and friends, you peacefully drift off. Just make sure that you've made a will somewhere, or at least use your deathbed to set the record straight. Otherwise, who knows what kind of squabbles might errupt after you leave this world?


TIME LEFT

1 - A few minutes. You're fading fast and you don't have much, well, any time left. Better tell the person with you that you love -- or despise -- them with your last breath, because you'll never have the chance otherwise. 

2 - A few hours. You haven't got much time left. Is there someone you still need to kill? To kiss? Better do it quick. (Note: last kisses not recommended for people dying of highly contagious illnesses.)

3 - A few days. The doctors have given you the news, and it's not very good. You've only got a couple days left to live. You should start trying to make peace with people and saying your final goodbyes with the days you have left.

4 - A few weeks. Take that vacation you've always wanted to go on but never had the chance to. Go do that thing you've never thought you'd be any good at. You've got only weeks left to live. Don't waste them. 

5 - A few months. While you aren't quite on death's doorstep yet, your lifespan has still dwindled considerably from what you probably thought it would be. How are you going to spend your last few months on Earth? Making the world a better place and telling your family you love them? Or raising as much hell as possible?

Comments

[uncertainty]

rng decided that it's cancerstuck part 2

[switchback]

[ He's been living away for years now. His friends moved away little by little, his family drifted off to do their own thing and eventually Dave was just the same. He stuck around, for awhile, had his reasons. Good reasons. Just not good enough, he guesses. His career wasn't sticking, neither was his relationship and in a fit of what could either be called maturity or a kneejerk reaction to losing control, he cut his losses on both and bid an uneasy farewell to it all.

After that he traveled awhile, dabbled in music here and there like before but began poking into the film industry to see if he could leave his mark. It wasn't really so bad. Missed home, missed a sense of familiarity. But it all worked. He called when he had time, talked to anybody who had the time for him in turn but didn't really get around to visiting, especially not when he got his first major role as a director and got busy making big bucks remaking crap movies and turning them into classics.

All that changes practically overnight. He's on a short vacation from work, alone at home eating Triscuits and watching the Tonight Show when suddenly half his body goes numb and he winds up on the floor, spasming and unable to breathe and then unconscious. The girl he's kinda-seeing at the time was supposed to come over that night and she finds him like that, unresponsive, and takes him to the hospital. They save him, it's just a small heart attack, not enough to completely dehabilitate him for more than a week. They run the tests, gather their findings, and bring them to him on discharge day.

Later, he's sitting at home with all the papers in his hands, staring at the floor and not quite sure what to do. He hasn't told anyone, and luckily no one mentioned the episode to the media. Even just knowing what to do with himself is difficult. He's got some rare, complicated formation of bone cancer (he didn't even know bones could get cancer), spread over from the lungs and there's not a whole lot they can do about it. A few weeks go by without him even meaning for them to just to let it sink in. It's bad. Even in these beginning stages, it's bad, and in the interest of keeping the reporters off his ass he has literally no one to talk to.

He hasn't called Tavros in years—through no real means of disagreement; he just hasn't, is all. Busy, forgot. Their friendship didn't quite stay the same after he left but for some reason, he doesn't know why, it's the first number he dials, punching it in without even consulting his phone book because he still has it memorized. He stares straight ahead while it rings, zoning out. Forgetting who he called. ]

[uncertainty]

[ Aradia is the one that hears the phone. He's dead asleep on his sleeping square, a brief reprieve between long shifts at the plant is all he gets to rest.

Things are not easy for two lowbloods struggling to stay out and independent. Aradia works, he works, and they're both slowly beginning to wonder the worth of it all. District life may be dangerous, but at least it is life, rather than existing between hours and hours of back-breaking (in some cases, literally, Tavros' just recovered from that reinjury) work. So when Aradia brings the phone to him, saying it's a number she doesn't recognize, he's a little terse when he answers ]

Hello?

[switchback]

[ There's a long stretch of silence. He zones back in at the sound of Tavros' voice and can't imagine why he hears it, for a moment.

Oh yeah. Right.

His fingers curl tighter around the phone, a little horse hoarse when he speaks. ]

... Tavros? It's me.

[uncertainty]

[ He sits up so fast Aradia is nearly gored with a horn. ]

... Dave?

[switchback]

Hey.

[ There's always something a little warmer than what there might usually be when he calls people from home, and particularly in special cases. This is kind of a special case. Much as he doesn't feel up to it, it comes out anyway. ]

Sorry I ain't called in awhile...

[uncertainty]

It's... [ Been about three years. ] Okay. How have you been?

[switchback]

Ok, I guess. [ Until recently, anyway. He'd developed a cough and some chest pains but that was just supposed to be because of the smoking, which he quit years ago— ] How 'bout you?

[uncertainty]

[ Tired. ] The same.

[switchback]

You still living with Aradia?

[uncertainty]

Yeah. Are you, uh... Still seeing, [ don't be rude. ] that girl?

[switchback]

Andrea? I guess.

[ Definitely not the name of the girl he was (kinda-)seeing three years ago. Or a year ago. Or four months ago.

Or last week. ]

[uncertainty]

I thought her name was, Carolina? { he glances over to Aradia, who though smiling, looks like she'd like to get some sleep. Slowly he slides into his old, creaky wheelchair and makes his way into the waste block. ]

[switchback]

[ A quiet, half-hearted snort. ]

I think that one lasted about a week? Something like that.

[uncertainty]

Oh.

[ He shuts the door behind him. ] I guess I'm, really far behind, on your life.

[switchback]

I guess.

[ He clenches the papers in his other hand, considering another topic to stall. Part of him just wants to keep it to himself, recant on the whole idea and just surprise everyone when he finally bites it. But that could be awhile. And what's more, the bigger part of him just doesn't care right now. ]

I, uh. Actually had something to talk about, 'stead of just catching up... Not that I don't wanna catch up. Just think we should get the big downers out of the way first. [ Dude, you're fucking this up. He grits his teeth, sighs through them. ] I guess.

[uncertainty]

[ ... oh.

he curls his fingers a little tighter around the phone. ]

What is it?

[switchback]

[ Another long stretch of silence. ]

I'm sick.

[uncertainty]

Sick? [ Sick? Sick and Dave Strider do not belong in the same sentence. ]

[switchback]

Cancer. [ ... ] It started in my lungs. Spread to my bones.

[uncertainty]

[ Cancer is a symbol, not a disease. It takes a minute for him to reconcile the meaning and when he does he almost drops the phone. ]

W... Can, they treat it?

[switchback]

I haven't discussed it much. Just found out a couple weeks ago.

[ Quiet. ]

It doesn't look good.

[uncertainty]

[ no. nononono. ]

Dave...

[switchback]

You're the first one to know. Reckon you wouldn't sell it to the papers no matter how much you needed the money.

[uncertainty]

Of course, I wouldn't. [ He shuts his eyes. ]