bakerstreet | last words meme.

last words meme.

the death meme

(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.)

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. This is where I am changing it up. Feel free to choose how you are going to die, just be sure to list the closest matching categories in your subject bar, along with your character and their series.

If you are having trouble coming up with a prompt or situation, feel free to use the random number generator. Or if you rather just take a risk feel free

2. 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.

However, considering this is in our RP feel free to have your characters keep their CR, just make sure to inform the person which ever way you're going with it before responding!

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

4. Have fun!

✗✗✗

ETC

Other relationships -- such as murderer/victim, doctor/patient, etc. -- can be added in along with the randomized relationships at your whim if you feel the need, or even used to replace the relationships under that heading. Just, check with the other player first if you're going to do something extreme to their character! Or, in the case of canonmates, if you want to ignore the table and just go with your characters' canon relationship, you certainly can do that as well.

Also, if you would prefer to ignore the table entirely and just play out your own death scenario, feel free! This is a meme, so rules are pretty lax. If you like, you can also replace "death" with some other irreversible, negative scenario, such as being trapped in another dimension. The main point is that the characters conversing will never get the chance to talk to one another again, so you better make the last things you say to them count.

Immortal characters can be AU'd into non-immortals or otherwise made to fit the settings however their muns would desire. Also, if you get a death prompt and a time limit that don't make sense together you can either interpret the prompt as liberally as necessary to make it make sense OR you can simply roll the time left again until you get a time limit that makes more sense! :3

- reposted from here.

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[No cause 4 or 5. Can be the dying or the survivor, your choice!]

[With canonmates, HIGHLY prefer Zero as canon point. OTA otherwise including AUs. No cause 4.]

Edited 2015-01-19 15:48 (UTC)

[No cause 3, 4, or 5.]

( can take shirou from any route or canon point! bad ends definitely encouraged for this one. no cause 3 though, please - unless it's a mind controlled suicide since a lot of people have taken over shirou's body before :|a )

[ For those who aren't familiar with Discworld, Susan is Death's granddaughter and fills in for him on occasion (she doesn't always do a very good job). I'd love for her to collect a soul or two!

[No to causes 3 and 7. Available as either a decapitated, talking head, or a huge fearsome swordsman.]

( cause #6 is pretty much canon but open to AUs and other things too! ask before shipping, please ♥ )

Edited 2015-01-19 17:07 (UTC)

[Tauriel has had a long and happy life with her husband. She knows she cannot complain about the time they have managed to wrestle for themselves, the years of love and laughter, fighting and tears. The two beautiful children she has borne for him, perfect mixtures of the two of them in two tiny little bodies. (Not so little anymore, both their children are grown now, and have started families of their own. Kíli is a grandfather thrice over, now, and yet another bairn is on its way. He will not live to see it born.)

She has known, from the moment they met, that this hour would come. She has known it, and yet somehow, she has managed to make herself forget it, or at least willfully ignore it. The thought of losing her husband has always ripped a hole in her heart, and now here it is again, except that hole is so much larger, for this is reality and not some morbid dream.

Smoothing his steel-grey hair away from his face, Tauriel leans in to kiss Kíli's lined forehead, a gentle smile on her face that belies the tears gathering at her lashes.]

The children will be here soon, meleth nîn. Do not fret.

Edited 2015-01-19 17:29 (UTC)

[ anything but cause 7 - what is this long and happy life thing you speak of? ]

[Anything but natural causes, and his time left to live will be minutes.]

[ooc: 4 is unlikely. Potential triggering through all of this. Open to the one dying or the one hearing the last words but if it's the latter let's hash it out first!]

Edited 2015-01-19 19:54 (UTC)

[ Strange, how things start to fall apart. Of course, Remus knew over the years he would slow down, that he might not be able to run after the students as quickly, or get out of bed as early as he used to. That climbing into the quidditch stands wouldn't be as easy, that rolling around in bed with his beautiful, daring wife, would leave him exhausted long before the night ended.

But he knew those years were ahead of him still -- that he wouldn't have to worry over what-ifs and aching joints for years more. In class, he had been teaching his tell tale lesson on Boggarts, letting the record play as the creature changed its forms, when he felt a strange, unfamiliar pang in his chest. When his breath started falling short and sweat beaded at his forehead. Even a simple riddikulus was difficult enough to speak, to send the boggart away and call for help, send one of his students to fetch Poppy.

He doesn't remember collapsing, remember hitting the cold floor or seeing his vision tunnel. When he woke, met the sorrowful whispers of Poppy Pomfrey, how there was no magic to fix something so vital that has become so broken. How the potions she gave him wouldn't return his strength, couldn't mend failing muscles or the stuttering, fragmented rhythm of his heart.

Who knows how long it will be -- she thinks days, perhaps, but each hour alone feels harder, one step further from the rest of a life he could have had. One more deep reminder that being what he is, that the sickening beast he becomes is too much, that his body would not withstand another transformation, even if he lived to see the day.

He's curled up in their bed when he wakes, having fallen asleep reading a book hes' no doubt read a hundred times before. A silly little muggle tale, about a magic boy, whisking a young girl and her brothers off to a place called Neverland. His head pounds, his body aches in ways he's unfamiliar with, and breathing is difficult. He pushes himself up, or tries to, struggling as he has to pull himself up by the headboard, falling back against it when he does, his breathing ragged already.

Just shy of sixty-five and he feels like this, feels as if his very bones can't sustain him. He should get up. Get up and walk out of the room and dress and go to his classes, because then at least things would seem all right, they would feel normal, better than this life, wrapped up in bed, no control over the strength of his body or heart. He shouldn't exert himself, should cocoon himself in hopes that maybe all of this will change, that maybe he will wake one day soon with more strength, to prove them all wrong.

The thought alone exhausts him, a cold sweat beading his forehead, his heart clattering in his chest from the exertion of sitting up alone. He can't think of Pansy now, not yet, the beautiful shining woman he has entangled himself in over the past ten years or so. (Maybe it's been more than that, maybe he's losing count already). He can't fathom leaving her, not when he's promised over and over that she will never be alone, never be sad again.

What a liar he is. ]

[No 3 or 4 for causes. No 2 or 3 for relationship.]

[It has never been a secret that Pansy's husband has a good fifteen years on her, and that eventually, those fifteen years would catch up to him. She just hadn't expected that day to come when she had just turned fifty, half a birthday cake still sitting uneaten in their rooms, still so newly-cut that the icing had yet to grow hard and impossible to eat. (Chocolate, of course, because Pansy had long ago resigned herself to having an immeasurable amount of the stuff in her life, and what Remus likes, Pansy will make sure Remus gets.)

She had been teaching first years when a terrified-looking student came careening into her dungeon, one of Remus' favorite third year Hufflepuffs, one they'd had over for tea just last week.

Collapsed in class. Stopped breathing. Hospital Wing.

Pansy doesn't remember saying anything, but she must have, she doesn't remember pushing past Remus' Hufflepuff, but she must have, she doesn't remember abandoning her class to go racing up to the Hospital Wing, but obviously she must have. All she remembers is seeing her husband lying in one of those horrible, ugly cots, a sheet drawn up to his chest, his face pale and still. For a moment, all the blood drained from her face, a horrible terror clutching at her heart — dead, he was dead and she hadn't been there, he'd died, he wasn't allowed to die! — but then Poppy was there, taking her arm and assuring her he was alright. Well, mostly alright. Why don't you sit down, dear?

It was his heart. So many years of transformations had done it in — a miracle he's lived this long, really, most werewolves don't make it past forty, if they aren't killed sooner by another wolf or those that hunt them — and there was nothing she could do to save him. Nothing. She had to sit there and watch him die and there was nothing she could do.

She'd spent the first day sobbing inconsolably, her hand clutching at the limp fingers of her beloved husband, her tears soaking through the sheet over his chest as if they could somehow heal him, like in that story he loved to read to her, from one of his Muggle books, about the girl locked in her tower and how her tears healed the scratched-out eyes of her princely lover. She had always scoffed at his silly Muggle fairy tales, but now she wished fervently that there was truth to them somehow; how could it be possible that he was dying and there was nothing she could do? Who would allow such a thing?

She had refused to go back to teaching, allowing someone else to cover her lessons, she doesn't care who. Ever since Remus collapsed in his classroom, she hasn't left his side. She will not leave him, not for any longer than it takes to brew a pot of tea, not in case he needs her.

Not in case he has to say goodbye.

It's what she's doing this morning, brewing herself a cup of tea to help herself stay awake so she can pore through more books to try to find a cure, some way to help him. She'd do anything to keep him here with her, anything at all. (She'd even owled Draco to ask about the less-savory options she might have, but sadly, those were few. She did not wish to splinter Remus' soul to keep him tethered here. Her husband without his soul might as well not be her husband at all.)

She doesn't expect to see him awake when she returns, but she quickly tries to pull up a more or less cheerful expression when she sees him sitting up in bed.]

Good morning, darling. I didn't know you were up, or I'd have made you some tea. [She sets the mug down and leans in to kiss his cheek, closing her eyes for a moment against tears.] Would you like some?

[ Remus will never forget hearing her cry against his chest, seeing that strange darkness behind her eyes that he had long ago banished. When he closes his eyes, he wants to be able to see the bright, shining woman he had on his arm in Hogsmeade, the one he pulled in for dances and kisses at the balls, the one who he would so many times roll over to kiss in the late morning.

He fingers the old, weathered cover of Peter and Wendy, its pages dog eared and yellowed with many, many years of reading and laughing into the pages as Pansy refused to listen to muggle tales. Pansy. She's written over everything in his life, her mark on the too-sweet tea, the tiny little foil wrappers of chocolate, the soft vanilla scent of her shampoo, the sound of her cursing over some potion or paper as she grades, brows knit, quill tip between teeth.

Startling, he doesn't expect her to come rushing in the way she does, and he doesn't expect the way her expression changes from something dark to an attempt at lightness, though her eyes give her away. ]

Is it morning then? [ Yesterday afternoon he was reading Peter and Wendy, and had he only woken now? He tilts his head to kiss her cheek but she moves too quickly, leaving him smiling weakly up at her. ] Ah, no, no tea just yet, but thank you. You don't have to wait on me, mind, I am not so broken yet. [ He tries for a stronger smile, because maybe if he works harder, maybe if he makes himself believe that he will only get better, it will happen. ]

How are you? [ He reaches for her hand, drawing it up to kiss the palm, no doubt like he's done for their many years together. Her tea does smell amazing, and his throat is dry, but he cannot stand to send her away, he wants every moment of his waking hours spent with her, holding her and breathing her in. ]

Sit down, you don't look like you've even slept. Please, Pans. [ He gives her hand a soft tug, even if she just sits on the side of the bed for a moment. He reaches for his book then and closes it, sitting it beside her mug on the side table. ] Or shall I pick you up and put you to bed myself?

Basic Info

Open to anything, but especially interested in playing either something like Viktor having fatally wounded someone whilst in a berserk mode and becoming lucid to see his regrets or perhaps having to be fatally wounded himself to avoid hurting someone.

[ooc: Probably human!AU if Cas is the one dying.]

[She's trying to give him that, the final image of her as the happy, vibrant woman she's become, blossoming into someone she enjoys under the soft sunlight of his love and tender care, but it's hard. It's so hard. How can she smile when the only person she's ever loved is leaving her? How can she be cheerful when it feels as though her heart is being ripped from her chest? How is she to keep from crying when she knows it will only be days before their bed is cold and empty without him?

He can't die.

Pansy had learned very early on in her life how to paste on a mask of pleasantness to hide whatever darkness broiled within her, but the past thirty years with Remus has left her terribly unpracticed, her skills abandoning her when she needs them most.]

Only just. [The clock above the mantel reads ten past five; Pansy has never enjoyed waking up early, far more likely to lounge about in bed until Remus comes to bring her breakfast on a pretty little tray and kiss her awake, but she's hardly slept at all since his collapse, frantically searching for a loophole she can exploit to save him, to keep him here.] And I'll wait on you if I like, stubborn old fool, you've done it enough times for me.

[She cups his cheek gently in her palm, feeling the soft skin grown loose with age, the hint of stubble cropping up along his jaw, grey now where it was once brown. Still, the bones beneath the skin are the same, and if she closed her eyes, she could imagine that she was seventeen again, flush with the thrill of bedding her professor. (She could imagine she was twenty, terrified and broken, clinging to him as a lifeline, the only calm point in the storm that was her life.) She gives in easily when he tugs on her hand, settling down on the edge of the bed beside him.] I'd like to see you try.

[She would, actually. Remus had retained most of his youthful strength throughout the years thanks to his lycanthropy, which meant that he would often whisk her up in his arms and take her to bed as easily as he had done when he was thirty five.] I'm fine, Remus. I promise. Don't worry about me. [She can't bear the thought of him worrying, not when he's dying, not when he needs all his strength to hold on just a little bit longer.]

Edited 2015-01-19 22:36 (UTC)

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Page 1 of 9

last words meme.

Johanna Mason | THG

Saber | Fate/

Elphelt Valentine | Guilty Gear

Noriaki Kakyoin } JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

shirou emiya | fate/stay night ( ota )

Susan Sto Helit | Discworld

Dean Winchester | Supernatural | ota

Vengarl of Forossa | Dark Souls II

kíli / tolkien

/HOLLOW LAUGHTER

tauriel ( tolkien legendarium )

pansy parkinson ( hp )

legolas thranduiliel ❧ tolkien legendarium

Hermione | Harry Potter

Joan Watson | Elementary

Roy Harper | Arrow

Kain Highwind | Final Fantasy IV / Dissidia 012

GRANT WARD | AOS | MCU

you know the deal.

PETRE ( oc )

THE WORST DEAL WHY DID I AGREE TO THIS

no subject

Viktor Holston | OC

Rule!63 Castiel | Supernatural

no subject