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]

Okay.

[ He looks up apologetically. Leaving Bro to all of this.. but it'd be worse if he was there. For him, for Bro... even for Dave. Instead he cover's Bro's hands with one of his big ones and smiles weakly before departing.

He doesn't call for seven months. ]

[turntables]

[ It is pretty much a fucking madhouse. He tries to drop the news so only friends and family hear it first but it doesn't take long past that for it to explode all over the media and everybody's so shocked that a visionary is gone so fast. There are reports upon reports upon interviews upon interviews and stuck somewhere in the middle are two funerals, one big obnoxious affair with an empty casket to keep the fans happy and a small private one for people who actually care. Those who want them get a locket with some ashes kept inside. The rest stays at home. It's where he liked being best, after all.

After about five or six months the majority of the public moves on and forgets about it. Predictable but a little sad. Bro's mostly just glad to have some peace and quiet, dozing in bed and never expecting to hear from Tavros again. ]

[uncertainty]

[ Though he promised Dave he'd go to a physician if things got dire, after his passing he found little point. He was an old troll, after all. 40 years was being generous for someone with his disability. It was okay.

He suspected tumors. The growth was astounding and came with only discomfort and a weakened bladder. After a while it got too hard to go outside, the only food coming in was from either Gamzee or Sollux's thoughtfulness. He slept most of the day and time spent away was used to clean or try to make himself feel busy or important. Losing both a moirail and a matesprit in the span of a year was too much, and no one much blamed the lowblood for becoming reclusive and unsociable. They didn't see any point in reaching out, either.

It was one unfortunate day that he woke up to pain. The bed was soaked underneath him - accidents were an unfortunate side-effect of whatever this was, he didn't think much of it. Until the ripping pain started and stole the air from his lungs.

He doesn't really think. Panic takes over call me anywhere, anytime and his hands auto-dial the one number he knows he can trust. ]

Br-oh.

[turntables]

[ There's a very brief pause before he responds after picking up. Trying to figure out if that's panic or an extremely delayed emotional fit manifesting in a weird way or what. It's too soon to tell. ]

Hey. You alright?

[uncertainty]

[ the only sound the troll manages for a few minutes is labored breaths. something is wrong why does it hurt. ]

I think, I'm dying.

[turntables]

Shit.

[ God only knows what's wrong with him. He doesn't sit there waiting to find out, he's already up and fumbling in the dark for his keys, his pants, and his shades, in that order. ]

Where's it hurt?

[uncertainty]

My, abdomen. [ pant, wheeze. ] I think I, wet the bed. [ he sets the phone down and curls up on his side. ]

[turntables]

Ok, hang on.

[ You know what, fuck pants. He finds his shades and his keys and leaves in his popped collar shirt and a pair of boxer briefs with "JUICY" written in glitter text across the ass and anyone who has a problem will just have to deal with it. ]

I'm on my way.

[uncertainty]

You don't, have to. I don, [ oh shit. he grits his teeth. the sob catches in his throat. ] 't know why, I called. I'm sorry.

[turntables]

Too late, already leaving.

[ Well not quite, but within the next minute the engine revs in the background. ]

[uncertainty]

[ He rests his head on the pillow and doesn't answer, focusing on breathing. ]

[turntables]

Want me to bring a doctor?

[ A human doctor, naturally. ]

[uncertainty]

No...

[ No, no, no. ] The... there's, a key. Under, my mat...

[turntables]

Ok.

[ gunning it. It's not a "long" drive, but it's not "short," either. At least not when you're obeying the speed limit. ]

Hang in there. I'll be there in a few.

[uncertainty]

[ Quieting down. The pain is getting worse. There's the occasional groan, then a miserable sob. ]

[turntables]

[ He's there within 15 minutes, probably a new record. He hangs up the phone and lets himself in, quick but quiet to hopefully avoid setting off the entire neighborhood to his presence. It's not like anyone would attack him (and they'd be crazy to try, besides), but still.

He's a little out of breath when he comes running in, expecting blood and guts everywhere. ]

I'm here.

[uncertainty]

[ There's blood alright. Tavros' pajama pants are soaked with it - the whole bed is. The troll's stomach is huge and swollen, but a familiar shape - something a troll wouldn't recognize. ]

Mmngh...

[turntables]

[ Good god he got fat.

Wait.

Oh jesus screaming christ. Sweet shitting hell. Just. Fuck. Okay. ]

...'Sokay, I've got this. You're not dying.

[ Setting aside his incredulity over a vast number of topics and questions surrounding this situation, mostly originating from an all-encompassing "HOW," he wastes no time in getting things set up. It's not like he's ever done this before, but he's watched plenty of daytime television. Hot water and a rag, pillows propped up, towels padded underneath him and with no outwardly apparent embarrassment he gets rid of the bloody pants and drapes a sheet over him instead. ]

[uncertainty]

[ He looks up, teary-eyed and scarcely there. ] I'm not? [ How can Bro even think that. He shifts pathetically, as if to cover himself but then thinks better of it and stays splayed out like that. ]

[turntables]

No.

[ He's not really sure how to explain this rationally, given that he doesn't really get it, himself. He's heard of live troll birth but not with a dude troll and what's even more incredible is the timing pretty much only leaves one culprit that he's aware of, which he also thought was impossible.

But he leaves that alone for the time being and digs around unceremoniously for a clean glass and pours him some water. ]

Drink this, an' uh, just take deep breaths.

[uncertainty]

[ He downs it quickly and just drops back.

This is sinful amounts of pain. ] Stop...

[turntables]

[ God, what the hell does he know about labor. It goes on for fucking forever, is what. Doesn't blood mean the thing is coming out? He figures he's not exactly going to be able to pop the hood and check out the situation without explaining what he's doing first so he sits down to broach the subject as delicately as he can. ]

So I'm thinking you came down with a bad case of pregnancy, kiddo. Good news is it's curable. Bad news is it probably hurts 'cause there's a baby all up in there trying to get out in basically the shittiest way possible. So. We're gonna have to deal with that.

[uncertainty]

Oh.

[ he must be half-delirious from the pain, he's pretty sure he misheard all of that and he doesn't request a repeat. ]

[turntables]

Yeah.

[ So. Yeah.

This is one situation where he's not going to want his gloves on, at least not leather ones, so he peels them off and tries not to seem creepy about it. ]

Unless I'm wrong, which could be entirely possible, given what I know about troll birthin', but I get the feeling like it might be go time. Or close to it. [ So uh. Gesturing. ] Might be able to tell you better if I check out what's going down. If that's ok with you.

[uncertainty]

Okay.

[ He guesses. His head rolls back on the mattress, groaning and digging his nails into the sheets once the next wave hits. ]