43rd ♫ | one more time, one hundred more tries

[eudemonics]

THE MEMORY SHARE MEME
(i want every single person here to appreciate how hard it was to find a gif that adequately conveyed the idea of this meme)

HOW IT WORKS:
⍟ Post your character's toplevel with their name, canon and anything you might need to warn for in their memories.
⍟ Post a handful of memories from your character's past -- you can write them up or just links to clips and scenes, DO IT HOWEVER YOU LIKE.
⍟ SURPRISE, EVERYONE CAN SEE EACH OTHER'S MEMORIES so tag around as you like
⍟ GET EMOTIONALLY TERRORIZED FOR THE HOLIDAYS

Comments

ii. and a mind to its undoing (tw: suicide, self-harm)

[theundertaken]

[It's still just as gray, and Max is pacing on the roof of some building. There's a feeling of bone-deep exhaustion to this, though he doesn't look tired.]

Okay. Okay okay okay. [He presses his hands together, holds them to his mouth.] You can do this. It's not gonna be like last time, just - bam. Easy. It'll be better than staying here, it's not - it's not like anybody's coming, so. If they show up after, well, maybe they'll realize they should've been quicker.

[He laughs, a little too loud, then frowns as he lets the statement settle a little.]

Yeah, we can't keep doing this. Not even worth coming for at this point. Make it easier on everybody...

[He takes a few more deep breaths, then pulls himself up to sit on the rim of the room, dangling his legs over the side.]

Alright. Hooooo, okay, that's high up. Okay. Here we go, buddy. Three, two -

[The memory goes black as Max tips himself over the edge.

And then returns as he opens his eyes, lying flat on his back down on the boardwalk.]

What...? [He sits up slowly, eyes tracing the distance from the top of the nearby hotel to the bottom. He touches his chest, looks down at his uninjured body.] What...no? No, no no no, that's not how - no.

[Max casts about himself frantically, still muttering a desperate series of nos as he feels around the boardwalk, and then into his pockets, eventually drawing out a pocketknife. He flicks it open, brings the point to his wrist, and stops there, looking half-sick with fear.

But there's no other way out.

It hurts, but a few minutes later, he wakes up in the same spot again, unharmed.]

NO! [He screams, and turns the blade on himself again, desperately and with less precision.

Same thing.]

Fuck! Fuck you, fuck - fuck!

[He throws the knife across the boardwalk and slams his fist into his leg a few times instead, then curls into himself, heaving with sobs.]