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meme

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The STRAIGHT-UP DEATH meme

Pick a character.
Put their name and subject line in the header.
Tagging people: RNG or just pick one below. Needless to say, this meme may contain TRIGGERS for death, violence and suicide.
Posting people: the person who tagged you is now DYING.
Have fun.

OPTIONS:

Illness: Self-explanatory. You're on your deathbed from a long and drawn-out illness. Time to call someone to your side for comfort, or for a confession...
I Cannot Self Terminate: Maybe they're horribly injured, or maybe they've been mutated into a horrific monster. Either way, they can't tell anyone that they want to die--though no one doubts it. Will you be the one to take mercy on them?
Execution: Once again, self-explanatory. You fought the law and the law won. This is probably the last time anyone will see you...or is the other character your executioner?
Secretly Dying: Letting your friends and family know that you're terminally ill, or have been marked for death, or have a curse placed on you? No way. You'd rather keep them at ease. But all lies exist to be found out...
And Make You Watch: This person has hurt you in every possible way, but you can't bring yourself to kill them...looks like there's no recourse but to kill yourself. But before you do it, there's just one way you can twist the knife a little...
Bungled Suicide: You don't want to die, but can't think of any way to live. Fortunately, one of your friends has stumbled in at just the right time...
Murder: Pretty self-explanatory. One of your characters is trying to kill the other.
Fatal Accident: Drowned? Caught in a fire? Happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? All accidents and unhappy, untimely ends go here.
Duel to the Death: You, sir/madam, have been offended in every possible way, and it's time to settle this once and for all.
Old Age: Well, you've had a good run, haven't you? Somehow you managed to avoid all the other pitfalls your friends have, but everybody has to pay the piper eventually...
Ghost: You're already dead. But you had some unfinished business to attend to, so you're making just one last visit...
Other: Make up something or combine two or three!

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Thor was clinging to the hatred he could see in Loki's eyes, the venom that seemed to simply ooze from his pores and could remind him of the thousand reasons they had to be at odds. But fear on his kin's face is harder to force into a nameless foe, a proof that Loki is yet far afield.

Thor is indeed out of excuses - to prolong this. His heart, so recently beating fit to leap from his chest, feels as though it's given up on him. His chest feels cold and empty and it's reflected in his eyes, so easily showing his emotions. "Loki," he breathes, and it's a death rattle of his own. A little bit of the fire that all know Thor for is gone from his eyes, remiss everywhere except in his duty-bound hands.

Mjolnir is retrieved from where she sticks in the cloying mess around them, mud slipping across the handle but sadly not interrupting Thor's grip. "I am no smith with words as you are, but I have one thing to say." No, there's a fire again - his eyes burn hotly, wet trails of tears joining the rain on his face. Thor thinks he sees one of them fall to collect on Loki's neck, but surely it's just the storm he's conjured around them, that feels fit to rent them in two.

If only his lightning could do it for him and he didn't need to watch, but Thor must. He can't look away. "I love you." He can't do this.

His shoulder contracts, arm muscles bulging angrily with a burst of traitorous movement, and Thor's hammer comes down on his brother's head.

Edited 2012-10-14 00:27 (UTC)

Loki doesn't even take notice of the strange constricting sensation in his throat until Thor finally begins to speak to him again, and hears the same strain in his voice, in his words. Loki knows it is coming, that Thor is done with delaying what must be done. Loki is not familiar with helplessness, and for the first time in centuries, he is actually scared.

And as if this has all been rehearsed -- or, Thor is just that predictable -- Loki weakly shakes his head when he realises what the "one thing" Thor intends to say is. That is absolutely the last thing Loki wants to hear Thor say. Not today, not now. He hasn't the heart to hear it.

Tears spill from Loki's eyes, immediately masquerading as rain droplets drenching his face just as the hammer raises up to come sailing down on his cranium.

"Thor, I--" Loki doesn't even see the large metal weapon before it connects with his temple, his gaze is firmly locked on Thor's face -- those unbelievably bright blue eyes -- for the final moments before the enchanted tool collides with his face, blinding him instantly when the hammer crushes the left front of his skull.

The demolition of the left-most side of his head leaves Loki rather immediately incapable of making more than gurgling, howling cries from the incredible pain. Words and complex thought have ceased, so it could be said that at least he is not aware of anything outside from the physical suffering, but it is a horrifying display when he writhes and contracts his body beneath his not-brother's.

Even with the complete blindness in one eye and significant blindness in the other, Loki's right hand reaches out meekly for Thor, grabbing at his torso while the left hemisphere of his brain still holds some function of the right side of his body, but even that fizzles out once the battered organ becomes incapable of sending out such signals to the extremeties. His hand eventually goes limp and drops into the puddle of soaked dirt.

Loki is not physically dead, but everything that made him who he was is now shattered in the mud, useless, gone.

Thor, I'm sorry.

Thor has never shied away from terrible truths intentionally before, so unlike the flickering plays with lies and falsehoods his brother burns with - but he almost wishes he could look away as Mjolnir wrecks Loki. Not just Loki's face but Loki himself, as Thor gapes down as though he couldn't have predicted the outcome of the blow he's just dealt.

His hand reaches out, slick already with mud and fast becoming gloved in blood as well, when Loki mindlessly grips at him. Thor both knows and doesn't know his brother, can't fathom the hateful ice that must have grown in him over time in resentment - but he'd like to think that he knows he sees his sentiment returned in Loki's eyes before that light is extinguished.

He holds his brother's hand where the limb had jerked out drunkenly at him, sitting up above Loki and he can hardly believe Mjolnir is still in his hands.

Thor would never have thought himself still worthy of anything, let alone such a weapon, but it seems old ideas of heavenly justice are triumphing over instinctual brotherhood today in every respect.

He makes the next one swift and emboldened with some of his lightning, but after the final blow even Thor cannot easily look at Loki's body. Mjolnir finally slides from his hand onto the wet ground, his fingers dripping with watered-down blood as the rain pelts in as if to cleanse him. Impossible.

[The decision to bring up the issue with him had not been an easy one (Karen was the kind to let people to their own thing and at their own pace, rather than confronting them), but it needed to be done.

It had come to a point where their colleagues and even Gym Leaders had noticed something strange about Will-- there had even been talk of forced retirement, given his lackluster performance as of late. As much as she loved to tease and take full advantage of their type match-ups, she knew of his strength, knew how talented of a trainer he was-- well, used to be-- and that was exactly why she had to give it a shot, to figure out if there was anything that could be done. To someone whose sole purpose in life for so long had been his position in the League, leaving would be like death.

She had no idea how close to t he truth she really was.]

You're late again. [She informed him, tone cool as ever. She hadn't bothered with knocking or excusing herself- she never really did, but it served a special purpose now. She feared she might lose her courage otherwise.]

[Shit. Well, no use hiding now. What power he's got left is telling him what she's about to say isn't anything pretty, but even without that, there's just a very grim air. He straightens up his back, but his voice is still low-]

I'm well aware.

[A heavy sigh. He doesn't know if he should go first, or if he should just let her...but they might arrive to the same conclusion anyway.]

You first?

[There are no words or even a nod in acknowledgment, only the shift of her weight from one leg to the other and her hips following accordingly. Her arms are folded tightly across her chest, and while she tries to make it seem every bit as nonchalant as her usual attitude, Will could easily tell how uncomfortable she really was.

Or at least he could, once upon a time. Now, she wasn't too sure about that.]

Do I really have to say why I'm here? [He didn't even need to be a psychic to figure it out; if he couldn't tell her motives, then he was even worse than she had thought.]

Only if you really want to. If this is about my slip in my performance, I am very well aware.

[He sits down on the bed, his gaze fixed downward. Maybe it's about time he tell her.]

If I told you I was resigning, would you hold it against me?

[Her lips are pressed together in such a way that they form a very thin line, and her arms grip around her own body more tightly- she's trying her best not to punch the stupid out of him, and holding herself back is proving to be more difficult than she would think. But she managed.]

Whether you resign or not is none of my concern. [Except it was.] What has brought you to that point is what I want to know.

[There's a small laugh here, but it's of the bitter kind. Because really, what more is there to do?]

I'd hoped I could just go down quietly.

...well, I'm still beating around the bush, but I haven't got much time left in any respect.

[There's a very short span of time between the moment her eyes go wide open in surprise and her body lands right in front of him, then proceeding to thrust one hand down against the mattress so he couldn't escape.]

I think it's high time you quit your little game. [Her glare is piercing right into his eyes, and it's clear whatever excuse for composure she still had were now forgotten. If this was really about what she was thinking, she wanted a straight answer.] Start talking.

...so you really want the truth.

[...he doesn't even care anymore, lady. Punch him, he won't even care or do a quip or anything.

Still, you want him to cut the shit? He'll cut that shit.]

I'm not lying, Karen. I'm a dead man. Or...will be, in some time.

It's going to take a while to explain.

[Her hand clutches at the bedspread, layers of cotton and silk working as the only barrier to stop her nails from drawing blood. Idiot. Idiot!]

Tell me. [That is all she manages to say, words coming through gritted teeth. She had not- could not- process the news just yet, so maybe hearing the whole thing from him would help her; maybe it would let it sink in.]

[...sigh. This is going to take a while.]

You know how it was a year or so ago when the computers over at the League archive overworked and overheated, and despite everyone's best efforts they died a slow, horrible death?

...I'm not sure how that works for an analogy, but my head is swimming here.

It starts with losing your power, then with breaking your concentration. Which wouldn't be much of an issue if it stopped there, but it's only the first to go. You use your mind for other things, eating, sleeping, breathing...

["I'm going to eventually be reduced to a vegetable" doesn't sound very attractive, but...well yeah he's basically telling you that's it.]

...which is the gist of it. Bits of me are shutting down.

[... seriously, Will, this is now how you tell anyone you're dying. Especially not when that someone is a very close friend who has been quietly watching you wither away all along because you fucking refused to talk about it. Yup, that's real smart.

As a psychic, she would have expected him to at least be a little more considerate.]

And you were planning to hide this for how long? [No, really, for how long were you going to keep every single one of your friends worried, for how long were you going to to deny them the right to at least try to prepare for what was coming?]

[Did you not get the part about his power having been burnt out, Karen. BECAUSE UM THAT KIND OF ALREADY HAPPENED A LITTLE.]

...do you think I'd want to have all of you watch?

[His expression has changed to more...desperate, really. He's also given up sitting for curling back up on that bed, turned just slightly to the wall.]

I didn't even know what was wrong with me until a few weeks ago.

[Nope, you can't get away from her,even if she has to drag him by his collar, which doesn't pose as much of an issue.]

Do you think I'd give you a choice? [Her tone is raised by a few octaves, and while she can't speak for everyone else, she would definitely be one to stay by his side to the end. If he had, you know, done the decent thing and told her about it when he first learned of his ailment. But now...

Now she wasn't even sure she could still look him at his face without seriously smashing a fist right up against it.]

Edited 2012-10-18 04:10 (UTC)

[He's not even going to reply. He wants to apologize, but she won't accept it. He doesn't have any convincing arguments left otherwise.

Just do it, Karen. He's not even going to fight back or quip or scream or anything at this point, and that might make things worse.]

...go ahead.

[Her fingers curl into a balled hand and launch against him like a rocket, but somehow it manages to stop right before making any contact. Her rage hasn't quite subsided yet - and it probably wouldn't, not any time soon - but on second thought, punching him wouldn't do either of them much good.]

No. [A single syllable is what she offers in response, pushing him to bed in all frustration. But of course she hadn't forgiven him (how could she, when he hadn't even tried to apologize?) and it showed in the way she glared and visibly shook thanks to a myriad of feelings she couldn't quite name.]

If you felt like we were not worth it, then neither are you.

So this is goodbye.

...although, I haven't quite sorted out just what I want to do about all of this.

[Goodbye? Oh, no, it so wasn't goodbye-- and right now, Karen was so angry that she couldn't even say she had the most noble of reasons for sticking around. But her motives didn't really matter; whether it was because she wanted to see him suffer as punishment for being so selfish or because she would miss him terribly once everything was said and done, she had to stay.

Still, there was only so much she could put up with right now.]

What are the options? [Said after a long moment of silence and a nearly inaudible sigh. She had her back turned to him and her arms were folded again, as though that could help keeping all those feelings under control. But it didn't.]

...not many. I could curl up and let it take its course, which doesn't sound all that fun.

Or I could take matters into my own hands.

[That last one is partly why he didn't want you guys to know, by the way.

He turns away for a bit. He's not exactly sure if he wants to cry, or say anything else, but he's had a little time to think about this.]

I never pegged you for the cowardly type.

[It was a jab at his suggestion to end his own life, one that Karen clearly didn't approve of. It was odd, really, how she was usually very supportive of people following whatever path they truly found more suitable, yet it was nearly impossible to do when someone she cared for seemed to be going down the wrong route. Feelings were tricky things.

Then again, this may as well be the path she decided to follow: to not allow him to do any more stupid things. It might not be an ideal compromise, but it would have to do for now.]

You're not even going to try? [To find a cure, she means, looking at him from over her shoulder.]

I never did either, but...

I'm afraid. Not of dying, but...if I'm going to go, I want to go out as myself. Not sure if that can happen in the time frame it might take for it to run its course.

Or, if I'd even still be me by the time I could find a cure. If there is even one.

Call me a coward all you want, Karen.

[He doesn't like this, either, but his voice is getting worked up and his muscles are tensed. There's only one thing he is right now, and it's desperate.]

If only that would work, then I would call you a coward ten times over.

[Either as a means to slap some sense into his head or curing him. Ideally, both. But in reality, there was very little good to come from calling him names, and she knew that. Something else had to be done.

But what?]

...I don't know what I want. I don't know what I can even do, in this case. I've already seen a doctor; that barely helped at all.

...

[Well, it's only fair he tell her...]

I'm turning in my letter of resignation tomorrow. If you want to know my whereabouts after I leave, be my guest.

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Re: SUPA MAD BRO

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