It's a while before anything happens. Ranboo isn't sure how long exactly; he's tuned the world out entirely. There's no real reason to worry about it anymore.
A part of them wants to feel bad about leaving Dirk to clean all this up on his own. Another part is so deeply hurt and angry with Dirk still, so tired and even frightened of his current behavior that they just don't care. He'll figure something out.
Ranboo wonders with an odd kind of morbid curiosity what Dirk will do to his body once he finds them. Will he be taken apart like this woman? Like something from the abattoir? Probably, since Dirk will have to get rid of him somehow.
So that answers his question about what name he'll be buried under: none of them, probably. He likely won't see a proper burial at all. It makes him feel a little sick-- he didn't exist in life, and he won't exist in death. At least Showfall definitely won't be able to reclaim his body.
What a weird thought.
It makes Ranboo hyperaware of their own body-- the way blood flows through his veins, his own pulse which is now beginning to slow, the tendons and joints that give him motion and will likely soon be severed. He's spent his entire life in this body, fit together as it is, and soon, it'll be taken apart. They know that they won't feel it, but it's still kind of a scary thought-- that his body is in its last few minutes whole, living. He tries to imagine what it would be like without his arms or legs, and it's... strange. But that's silly, anyway, because he's not going to be alive to experience life without them. This is the last thing he'll ever experience-- laying curled up in Dirk's bed, alone.
If he'd thought about this sooner, maybe he would've done something fun first, something he'd never done before and would never get to do again. Maybe they would've had a good snack, or kissed someone-- enjoyed his senses for the last time he'd get the chance. Well, it's too late now.
Dirk will probably enjoy taking his body apart. Weird. They try not to think about that too much.
After a while, they start to feel very, very drowsy. His body feels heavy, his mind slowing down to a crawl. Even breathing becomes a focused labor, something his body forces them to do once it begins to panic, and breath comes in slow, tired pulls, escapes all at once in a rush.
This must be it.
The world around seems distant, everything in slow motion, as if he's under water. Ranboo doesn't know how long they lay there like that, on the edge of consciousness, unable to move even if he wanted to, but eventually, his consciousness finally slips away into blissful darkness.
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timeasmymeasure
Tw suicide
Date: 2024-08-10 03:03 am (UTC)A part of them wants to feel bad about leaving Dirk to clean all this up on his own. Another part is so deeply hurt and angry with Dirk still, so tired and even frightened of his current behavior that they just don't care. He'll figure something out.
Ranboo wonders with an odd kind of morbid curiosity what Dirk will do to his body once he finds them. Will he be taken apart like this woman? Like something from the abattoir? Probably, since Dirk will have to get rid of him somehow.
So that answers his question about what name he'll be buried under: none of them, probably. He likely won't see a proper burial at all. It makes him feel a little sick-- he didn't exist in life, and he won't exist in death. At least Showfall definitely won't be able to reclaim his body.
What a weird thought.
It makes Ranboo hyperaware of their own body-- the way blood flows through his veins, his own pulse which is now beginning to slow, the tendons and joints that give him motion and will likely soon be severed. He's spent his entire life in this body, fit together as it is, and soon, it'll be taken apart. They know that they won't feel it, but it's still kind of a scary thought-- that his body is in its last few minutes whole, living. He tries to imagine what it would be like without his arms or legs, and it's... strange. But that's silly, anyway, because he's not going to be alive to experience life without them. This is the last thing he'll ever experience-- laying curled up in Dirk's bed, alone.
If he'd thought about this sooner, maybe he would've done something fun first, something he'd never done before and would never get to do again. Maybe they would've had a good snack, or kissed someone-- enjoyed his senses for the last time he'd get the chance. Well, it's too late now.
Dirk will probably enjoy taking his body apart. Weird. They try not to think about that too much.
After a while, they start to feel very, very drowsy. His body feels heavy, his mind slowing down to a crawl. Even breathing becomes a focused labor, something his body forces them to do once it begins to panic, and breath comes in slow, tired pulls, escapes all at once in a rush.
This must be it.
The world around seems distant, everything in slow motion, as if he's under water. Ranboo doesn't know how long they lay there like that, on the edge of consciousness, unable to move even if he wanted to, but eventually, his consciousness finally slips away into blissful darkness.