last words;

[icecoldwit]

You wash my tears away
And make me wanna stay
And bonfires lit up the shores

[Last Words Meme; contains death, blood and potentially triggering material. Heed the warning.]

Comments

[movetheearth]

Ric had been close by when Emma fell but not close enough to grab her, blessedly he's on the sturdy flooring and can only watch on in horror as Emma plunges to her death. He screams her name, racing to the edge and peering over into the hole she fell through.

"EMMA! EMMA!!"

There's dirt and dust that takes a few moments to settle until he's able to see her laying there and dear god there is so much blood. He holds back the urge to vomit and searches for a way to get down to her.

[icecoldwit]

She hears him, of course she does, but there's little she can say, blood gurgling in her mouth as she attempts it, leaving her with no option but to turn her head and spit out a mouthful of blood. Horrifically uncultured, that was.

She can hear it, this mantra of repeating voices, so much blood, so much blood, so much blood. She's not even aware of just who it is that's thinking it, not just him, it seems, since female voices flit in and out and she can't actually put her finger on exactly which one of them it is.

Ric, shit, Ric. Pain flairs across her abdomen, tight coils of agony burning through her chest and back. She's not exactly comfortable, but then, it's not like she expected to be. "Fuck," her voice cracks, the pain lacing in with her tone and blood staining her teeth and lips. It would of course, be just her luck, that she met a bloody end rather than something nice and clean.

[movetheearth]

So much blood, so much blood, so much blood. The mantra keeps up in his head even as Ric watches Emma spit out even more. Gods. Is that... fuck, shit, fuck that is a spear of wood sticking through her by the looks of it and there is no way Ric can get there. Well at least not in time.

Yelling isn't achieveing much with five floors of distance between them, especially when there are other people calling out for help, others in need of help and all of whom Ric are choosing to ignore. It takes him a few attempts to clear his mind of the panic and turmoil but he focuses on images of Emma in his head, reaching out to her with a new mantra of it's me, it's Ric. I'm here Emma. I'm sorry I can't get to you. Can you hear me?

[icecoldwit]

There's screaming and crying, but it's distant. She likes that it's distant, she doesn't need to deal with a headache and the grief and worry that will come with knowing too much right then. She knows it's done, it's finished. She just wishes her resting place wouldn't be the bottom of a rotted, warped and twisted chapel. Yes, of course.

He's easy to pick out, from all the noise, all the screaming and thinking and blaming. He's this nice, solid thread of concern and grief and fear. Panic usually hurts her head, it's surprisingly steadying when she's mirroring the panic herself. Darling, it's alright, it's not safe, it's just not-

She breaks off to avoid sending waves of her pain at him, she doesn't want to imprint the incident on him too much. You should get out, before the ceiling comes down, get who you can and get out. Because she's not moving -her leg is broken, her abdomen is impaled, her lungs are already blood filled. There's nothing to do anyway.