Infinity Smashed: Not Built to Last
Mar. 31st, 2016 05:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lb_leeThis drabble is intended as an apology for Through the World-Hole being late. Enjoy, guys!
Not Built to Last
Universe: Infinity Smashed
Word Count: 600
Summary: M.D. plans the end of her life.
Notes: Death ahoy! M.D. and Raige are thirty-nine here, so it’s twenty years since the events of Bodily Reconstruction. Thomas is forty; Biff is forty-eight. More notes at the end.
M.D. was never supposed to get old.
Nobody ever comes out and says it outright, but they all know it. M.D. was made like an explosive, to go out in one quick, loud bang. She wasn’t built to live.
She starts getting streaks of white in her hair in her twenties. Her hair’s so blond, they don’t notice for a while, just think it’s all the time in the sun, but as more and more gray pops up, it gets harder to ignore.
When she’s thirty, she looks older. There are lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth, and she gets tired faster than anyone expects. It’s like all the energy she burned young is slowing her down now. She starts having trouble getting up sometimes.
She’s the youngest one of them, but as far as health goes, she’s the oldest. Thomas gets her a stout walking stick from a relative who carves them as a hobby, and he drops by periodically to help her at work. Raige is solicitous, giving her his arm, and she’s old enough now that she takes it and leans into him. And as for Biff, he’s around, in his quiet way.
Finally, when she’s coming close to forty, she sits Raige and Thomas down and breaks the news. She’s aging, her body is wearing out, and she’s not likely to make it to fifty.
“What’ll it be?” Thomas asks.
“Electroplaque failure, likely,” she says, and when they look blank, “seizure or heart attack.”
And then she explains the plans she’s laid out for when her health gets too bad. She’s been planning it for years. She’s a full healer now, so she knows the limits of Treehouse medicine, and the risks of League care. She breaks it down to language Thomas and Raige can understand, and so Thomas can make the right decisions if she ends up incapacitated too quick to do it herself—and then she tells Raige, very gently, that he doesn’t get that power. Biff or Thomas, yes, but not him.
“I don’t think you could handle that,” she says.
Before, there would’ve been fights, denial, insistences that M.D. would be just fine. But they’re older now, wiser, and so Raige bows his head and says, “you’re right.”
“When are you going to tell Biff?” Thomas asks. “Or did you hit him up first?”
“I didn’t have to,” M.D. replied. “He’s known for years.”
They’re all aging. Raige is still lanky, but he’s put on weight. Thomas injured his knee a while back and so isn’t quite as athletic as he used to be. Biff has broken every major joint in his body, plus his face, and even he has to acknowledge his body’s limits--though he still refuses to admit he’s squinting more to read than he used to.
Death isn’t anything new to them now. Bobcat has long since passed on—for a cat, he lived a long time, but that still doesn’t compare to a human lifespan. Ribbonblack died only a few years after Biff’s surgery, and Flame followed not too long after—due to accident, not age. Scorch continues on, knowing that he will likely outlive his former apprentice as well. Biff’s landlady held on far longer than anyone expected, and the street parade of her funeral wound down blocks and stopped traffic, filled with cops, gangsters, and neighbors. Now, the Block is owned by the woman who ran the anarchist bookstore, and she seems to be shaping up to be a worthy successor.
“Thirty-nine years,” M.D. says wistfully. “That’s more than I ever expected to get.”
Life marches on, and together, they walk into the twilight, unafraid.
Notes: Cats++ like Bobcat can live into their thirties, even hit forty if they're really lucky. Bobcat was about eight or so when he met M.D., well into his adulthood by his kind's terms, so he made it into his mid-thirties. Frances Bertelli (Biff's landlady) was in her fifties when she met him as a teen; she died in her eighties.
Also, folks who read Giant Robots might notice M.D. has some of the same health problems--in that universe, her decline has just been accelerated due to the prolonged stress of that universe. Her electroplaques are special organs that allow her to give and receive electrical shocks; since she's never gotten proper training or care for them, they're in very bad condition, and her failing health is due to the effects of electrical signals in her body going awry. Unfortunately, proper healthcare for them are proprietary to her people, who aren't inclined to share them with a construct who exploited legal loopholes to attain emancipation. So yes, M.D. is basically dying of her world's equivalent of no health insurance. The only universe where she wouldn't die from that is if she was reclaimed as property, so in her mind, it's a fair trade.
Not Built to Last
Universe: Infinity Smashed
Word Count: 600
Summary: M.D. plans the end of her life.
Notes: Death ahoy! M.D. and Raige are thirty-nine here, so it’s twenty years since the events of Bodily Reconstruction. Thomas is forty; Biff is forty-eight. More notes at the end.
M.D. was never supposed to get old.
Nobody ever comes out and says it outright, but they all know it. M.D. was made like an explosive, to go out in one quick, loud bang. She wasn’t built to live.
She starts getting streaks of white in her hair in her twenties. Her hair’s so blond, they don’t notice for a while, just think it’s all the time in the sun, but as more and more gray pops up, it gets harder to ignore.
When she’s thirty, she looks older. There are lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth, and she gets tired faster than anyone expects. It’s like all the energy she burned young is slowing her down now. She starts having trouble getting up sometimes.
She’s the youngest one of them, but as far as health goes, she’s the oldest. Thomas gets her a stout walking stick from a relative who carves them as a hobby, and he drops by periodically to help her at work. Raige is solicitous, giving her his arm, and she’s old enough now that she takes it and leans into him. And as for Biff, he’s around, in his quiet way.
Finally, when she’s coming close to forty, she sits Raige and Thomas down and breaks the news. She’s aging, her body is wearing out, and she’s not likely to make it to fifty.
“What’ll it be?” Thomas asks.
“Electroplaque failure, likely,” she says, and when they look blank, “seizure or heart attack.”
And then she explains the plans she’s laid out for when her health gets too bad. She’s been planning it for years. She’s a full healer now, so she knows the limits of Treehouse medicine, and the risks of League care. She breaks it down to language Thomas and Raige can understand, and so Thomas can make the right decisions if she ends up incapacitated too quick to do it herself—and then she tells Raige, very gently, that he doesn’t get that power. Biff or Thomas, yes, but not him.
“I don’t think you could handle that,” she says.
Before, there would’ve been fights, denial, insistences that M.D. would be just fine. But they’re older now, wiser, and so Raige bows his head and says, “you’re right.”
“When are you going to tell Biff?” Thomas asks. “Or did you hit him up first?”
“I didn’t have to,” M.D. replied. “He’s known for years.”
They’re all aging. Raige is still lanky, but he’s put on weight. Thomas injured his knee a while back and so isn’t quite as athletic as he used to be. Biff has broken every major joint in his body, plus his face, and even he has to acknowledge his body’s limits--though he still refuses to admit he’s squinting more to read than he used to.
Death isn’t anything new to them now. Bobcat has long since passed on—for a cat, he lived a long time, but that still doesn’t compare to a human lifespan. Ribbonblack died only a few years after Biff’s surgery, and Flame followed not too long after—due to accident, not age. Scorch continues on, knowing that he will likely outlive his former apprentice as well. Biff’s landlady held on far longer than anyone expected, and the street parade of her funeral wound down blocks and stopped traffic, filled with cops, gangsters, and neighbors. Now, the Block is owned by the woman who ran the anarchist bookstore, and she seems to be shaping up to be a worthy successor.
“Thirty-nine years,” M.D. says wistfully. “That’s more than I ever expected to get.”
Life marches on, and together, they walk into the twilight, unafraid.
Notes: Cats++ like Bobcat can live into their thirties, even hit forty if they're really lucky. Bobcat was about eight or so when he met M.D., well into his adulthood by his kind's terms, so he made it into his mid-thirties. Frances Bertelli (Biff's landlady) was in her fifties when she met him as a teen; she died in her eighties.
Also, folks who read Giant Robots might notice M.D. has some of the same health problems--in that universe, her decline has just been accelerated due to the prolonged stress of that universe. Her electroplaques are special organs that allow her to give and receive electrical shocks; since she's never gotten proper training or care for them, they're in very bad condition, and her failing health is due to the effects of electrical signals in her body going awry. Unfortunately, proper healthcare for them are proprietary to her people, who aren't inclined to share them with a construct who exploited legal loopholes to attain emancipation. So yes, M.D. is basically dying of her world's equivalent of no health insurance. The only universe where she wouldn't die from that is if she was reclaimed as property, so in her mind, it's a fair trade.
no subject
Date: 2016-04-07 07:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-07 08:05 pm (UTC)And I guess maybe those trope subversions allows me the indulgence of the "meet as teenagers, stay together" trope. :P
--Rogan
no subject
Date: 2016-04-08 07:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-08 08:20 pm (UTC)And there IS turmoil going, I just... haven't gotten around to those stories yet. But trust me, there is much flailing both before and after.
--Rogan