bakerstreet | the death meme

the death meme

the death meme

(CONTENT WARNING. This is a meme about death and may deal with suicide, depression, extreme violence, illnesses, etc.)

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.

CAUSE OF DEATH

1 - Accidental. Nobody meant for this to happen, but it doesn't matter now. Due to negligence, 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?

RELATIONSHIP

1 - Lovers. This is your husband, wife, boyfriend, girlfriend, mistress, whatever you call them they were the person you wanted to spend your life with. Too bad you don't have much of a life to spend with them anymore.

2 - Siblings. Your beloved little or older sibling is just standing there, watching you slowly waste away before their eyes. Can you say anything to comfort them? Note that it doesn't necessarily have to be interpreted literally; adopted siblings and friends so close they might as well be siblings work too.

3 - Parent and child. Nothing is worse than a parent having to bury their child... except, maybe, a young child now alone in the world after losing their parent. As with the sibling prompt, this can be expanded to include parental figures and people who are LIKE a father/mother to you as well as actual biological parents.

4 - Co-workers, teammates or classmates. You were fighting for the same side. Or you worked together in the same office for years. Or they sat behind you in biology all semester. However you met, how do your react when you find out someone who used to be a fixture in your life is going to die?

5 - Friends. You're the best of friends! You go everywhere together, know all each other's secrets, and are never seen apart. At least, you didn't use to be. Now one of you is dying and the other one is left alone in the world. Or maybe you're dying together. Wait, is that better or worse?

6 - Bitter enemies. You hate, hate, HATE this person. In fact, maybe you killed them. Or they killed you. Or maybe nobody killed anybody and they're just bitter that Mother Nature got to you before they did. Regardless, they want to confront you one last time before you bite it, if only to rub your nose in your imminent demise and their ability to outlive you.

HOW IT WORKS:
1. Post your character and preference
2. Respond to others.
3. Tell the person what you need to tell them before you bite it.
4. Have fun!

old af credit here

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(ota, good with either role. no 3!)

[She finds him in the aftermath, the Talon base routed and a trail of bodies leading to the computer bank he's slumped against; the end of a journey that had torn too many good people apart. The click of her boots is quiet against the blood-stained floor as she carefully picks her way further in, stopping momentarily when she reaches what could barely be called a man anymore, more a pile of black rags and armor, motionless in a pool of curdling blood.

Jack blamed himself for the divide that had been driven between them back then, but Angela knows she's always shared some of the blame. Would it have come to this if she'd been able to save Gabriel? It's a pointless question now, but it's never stopped haunting her. She crouches next to the body, the smell of decay already telling her everything she needs to know. Death had finally come to the man she had damned to walk in its shadow for so long. She only wishes she could have made it easier for him.

The only other living soul in the room isn't fairing much better. She can already tell that it's too late to do anything more than ensure he doesn't pass on alone. Maybe he would have preferred that, but it wouldn't be the first time they've disagreed about his furious need to push everyone away.]

Here you are, finally, at the end of all things.

[Her voice is little better than a murmur as she moves towards him, the light of her suit fracturing off the cracked computer screens in the gloom around them. There's no point in asking him if he thinks it was worth it; she knows what his answer would be.]

[On some level, 76 has always known where his path was leading. It's something he's long since accepted--there aren't happy endings for the kind of person he's become, so the most he can do is set things right before everything caught up to him. And now, after so many long years of searching, things have caught up to him, but that's fine. He and Reyes were always going to take each other out, one way or another.

As he bleeds out against a computer terminal, he tells himself that this is how he wants it. This is how it should be. He's been chasing ghosts (literally and figuratively) for too long, and now that it's over (now that he's won), he's finally realizing just how tired he really is.

So he'd be more than content to just go by himself, but when he sees who's managed to follow the evidence of the fight into this control room, he doesn't have it in him to tell her to leave. She'll make the diagnosis easily enough. There are a few spent biotic emitters scattered within arm's reach of him, a testament to the fact that he's at least tried to prolong the inevitable. Likely it will be what allows them to have this conversation.]

That's a little dramatic.

[The end of some things, maybe. Not all things, and he could do her one better and argue that probably this is a thing that's overstayed its welcome and needed to end. He shifts, trying to sit up a little straighter for her, but it takes some effort.]

Just you?

[It's not said as though he's disappointed. 76 just needs to know if the cavalry's here too, for lack of a better phrase.]

[Touché, Jack.] So is a one man suicide crusade against the forces of corruption.

[He's been dramatic all his life, it would be a shame if he went out now with just a whimper in the dark. She steps up to him and moves the empty canisters so she can kneel at his side. This close she can more clearly see the extent of his injuries and it only drives home the assurance that this was his last mission. He wasn't getting back up from this one.]

Just me.

[The others would show up eventually, but she doubts it will be in time. She adjusts herself, sitting back on her heels, wings folded carefully behind her shoulders as she reaches out to put a few wayward strands of his hair back into place. Her sigh is soft, resigned, and a little sad; this was inevitable and it's difficult to be too angry in light of it, but it's not an easy thing to accept either.]

I thought I might see you off one last time.

Bad sign when the doc shows up and it's to see you off.

[76 manages a laugh like she's just told a joke, but the blood in his throat has him choked up, so it sounds halfhearted. It's an apt choice of words, though, and very telling when she doesn't even make an attempt to treat him, not that he really minds. The futility of it is obvious, and he wouldn't want her wasting her time.

He does, however, lean into her when she reaches out to him, allowing himself the reprieve. When she tells him she's alone (for now, at least), there's a wave of relief. No need for the rest of them to see him like this--there's no need for them to mourn him twice, but if he has to die in front of someone, he's glad it's Angela. She was with him when he died (for all intents and purposes) the first time, too.

He peels his glove away from where Reyes' shotgun punched him through the abdomen, bringing it up to his visor, but his fingers are slick with blood and he can't get a grip on the clasps.]

Give me a hand with this.

[She humors his poor taste in jokes with a smile as always and doesn't comment on the wet gurgle in his laugh. She could perhaps buy him a little longer, a few hours at most, but they both know there's no point. He's been running on borrowed time since the collapse anyway.

His visor and mask are unclipped with care and set aside on the computer console behind them. It's good to see his face again after so long, despite the blood and the exhaustion written so clearly in furrows and scars and dark circles. Time and circumstance may have ravaged him, but she'd know those eyes anywhere.

Her hand strokes cheek and there's no attempt made to stop him from resting against her, coaxing his head down to her shoulder. The road he's traveled has been a difficult one; the least she can do is offer him some comfort at the end.]

You did a good job.

[It's relieving, to have it off. He's been perhaps a bit too reliant on it for the duration of his stint at Soldier: 76, and there's no real point to it now, at least, not while they're still alone. The cool air on his face, contrasted with the warmth of her palm is more than welcome, as is her reassurance that, after everything, he did a good job.

He's not so proud of the way he got there, but he did what he set out to do, so he's content enough with that. His eyes, now uncovered by red glass, flick briefly to what's left of Gabriel's body before he succumbs to Angela's suggestion to rest his head on her shoulder.]

I need you to do something for me.

[Possibly she expected something like this. There's still one last thing that has to happen.]

[She's never agreed with his methods, not the disappearing act he'd pulled or the chaos he'd left in the wake of his new identity, but on some level she'd come to accept that he'd felt it was what he'd needed to do. Whether anyone else could have accomplished it differently ceases to matter when the deed is done and all they could do was live with the choices they'd made. Perhaps she should be grateful that someone else had shouldered the difficult ones.]

I'm listening.

[It's not surprising, even if she hadn't been expecting it; there were bound to be some loose ends that he wasn't able to tie up. She'll do her best, of course, he deserves that much.]

[All he's ever done has been for the organization that he believed in more than anything, even as he became increasingly unhinged and his methods more questionable. He has his answers now, but it's cost him everything he was and is and then some.]

Data drives on that console.

[He raises a hand at a nearby computer terminal, letting her follow the line of his index finger to where he set down the information. Talon. Blackwatch. The UN. The real story behind the final days. The conspiracy he'd been looking for. She can do what she likes with it. Set the record straight for him. Just knowing that he's uncovered it is enough. Almost.]

And don't--

[He pauses, briefly, like the very act of lifting his arm was exhausting.]

Don't tell them it was me.

[Don't tell them who I am. She's carried his secret for so long that it seems almost unfair to ask this of her, and especially unfair because he's the one who resorted to worse and worse tactics (if not outright terrorism) for the sake of his mission. He doesn't deserve to have his secret kept, not after everything he's done, but he can still hope for an ending where Soldier: 76 serves his purpose and Jack Morrison stays intact.

Let them have their statues and their plaques and memory of him. If they're going to try again--do Overwatch right this time, they're going to need all the hope they can get. He doesn't want them rebuilding with the knowledge of what he did to them. It can only breed resentment and anger, which is not what they should build upon. He's already failed them once.]

Edited 2016-07-07 05:17 (UTC)

[She looks up to follow his finger, just long enough to spot the drive, before turning her attention back to him when he falters, catching his arm with a murmured word of support. Easy; he doesn't need to strain himself.

His determination to die as the man he'd become rather than as the one he'd been tugs at the old scars that crisscross her heart, but she knows where it comes from. She knows what it means to keep Jack Morrison dead, as painful as it is. Some memories need to stay untarnished. She's always cherished hers.]

I won't.

[She's not sure how difficult whatever is on that data drive will make the task, but she'll do her best. He gave himself up for the truth, and she can't think of anything more suited to the Jack she remembers than that. Maybe 76 doesn't deserve it, but that's not who she's holding in her arms now, regardless of how much she thinks he might try to convince her otherwise.

She shifts to cradle his shoulders more comfortably against her, hands gentle against his chest and her cheek pressed to the top of his head. If nothing else, he had been her friend, someone she had trusted, fought beside and argued with. She'd followed his orders most of the time; ignored a handful of them. She'd been skeptical when he'd first approached her for Overwatch, but what he'd offered her had been more than she could have ever hoped for.]

I'll make sure it's finished. You have my word.

[There's relief when she tells him that, but it feels heavy, like he's slowly but surely being pulled underwater. He tries to focus on the way she shifts him in his arms. It's something physical and immediate that he can latch onto, if only to hold out for just a little longer.]

You're good to me, Angela.

[She's always been. More than he deserved, at times, and certainly more than he deserves now. He can only imagine how much worse things would have been so much sooner if she hadn't been there, reminding them of how far was too far in their overly-idealistic quest for world peace. Mostly he listened. Sometimes he didn't, but he likes to think he kept her aware of how important she was to him. To Overwatch, to everyone.

His gaze drops, finding its way back to the body nearby. There's no question that Gabriel needed to be put down--almost a mercy, at this point--but it's left 76 suddenly empty. It had been easy, at first, to wildly blame everything but himself for what Gabriel did and what happened as a result. Though there's no sense in dwelling on what he could have done better (which he does regardless), he's come to shoulder his part of the responsibility. Theirs had always been a mutually-assured destruction, shells of former human beings trying to pull themselves out of the rubble.

But--]

He was a good friend, too.

[Until he wasn't, but isn't that always how it goes? 76 has run on nothing but his desire for revenge for so many long years, fueled by rage and burnt up inside by the hurt of his betrayal. Now that it's over, he realizes that the emptiness is the fact that he's never allowed himself to mourn the loss of someone who, at one point, he might have called a brother.]

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the death meme

76 | overwatch

don't need no stinking numbers :(

ohhhh nooooooo

ohhhh yeeeaaaaah-- wait, no, wrong thing.

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