"Parting is such sweet sorrow"
You may submit your dear departed characters here, for solemn review and hopefully a long deserved rest.
-Novices-
Abhidi Jayaraman, killed by zombies.
Abhidi Jayaraman was struck by a higher cause which drew him to our ways. He was a gifted student, like few I have seen, and his vast potential was untapped at the time of his death. We send our regards with him, and hope he comes to us again, in another life.
John Proudstar, killed by explosives carried to the enemy's heart.
The infamous FBI (Fuckin' Big Indian!), John was in fact a special agent in the Federal Bureau of Investigation, specializing in kidnapped children. Despite his size, black belt in Shotokan, and intimidating demeanor, John was a genuinely good-hearted soul who would not kill, no matter the provocation. Drawn to the shamanic heritage of his Kiowa ancestors, John fought many a battle against evil. Finally confronted with his archenemy, a drug runner who had surgically implanted heroin in stolen children for export, John broke his word in a roar of gunfire. Not long after, he sacrificed his own life to save several thousand people from an ancient evil. John Proudstar died as he had lived, giving all for his fellow man.
Today Carl Hawke died. He was hit over the hit head and eaten alive by ants. All the ants left was his bones. I picked up his skull and I have it on a shelf in my bedroom with his beating heart in it. His Heart you ask? Well yes. I did not know him well, but what I did know was he was reckless. He tried to have a good heart. I met him the first time that I was asked to do one of the special jobs. I don't know what he was thinking, but he flew into the conference room that was on the 30th floor and started shooting everyone with rubber bullets. Of coarse this was after he tear gassed the place. I guess in a way I should have thanked him for it. We all found out how deadly our Boss was. And how powerful he was. With just a fingernail, our Boss ripped opened his chest and pulled out his beating heart. He then closed Carl's chest and gives me his still beating heart. We went on the job and Carl got hurt really bad. I went back to check up on him a month later and he had been buried. Unfortunately he wasn't dead. I had him dug up and taken to my apartment. I nursed him for about a month. We then both got summoned for another job. I dressed him up as my disabled husband for the trip. He was lucky that another person who was hired could heal him. But then his luck ran out and the ants got him. I will never know more about him, but I will keep his heart.
Malk Leviathan, death by zombie horde and more botches than one man should ever see in one night.
First Lieutenant Martin “Neo” Blank, U.S.M.C. (Retired)
Born January 1st, 1982
Martin’s life was plagued with tragedy, yet his determination and sense of justice would never be diminished. Martin was born on the first day of 1982 in Al Hillah, Iraq, to an American mother and an Iraqi father. Martin’s family moved to Dearborn, Michigan soon after and spent over a decade in relative peace. Sadly, when Martin was 16 his mother was murdered by a supernatural being. Martin’s father blamed him for not being strong enough to protect his own mother and their relationship degenerated into violence. At the age of 18 Martin was forced to kill his own father in self defense. To his dying day, he swore that the man had been possessed.
Shortly after the tragic death of his father, Martin decided to start over, changing his name and joining the United States Marine Corps. He excelled and was rapidly promoted, earning several commendations and a battlefield commission. When his superiors were considering promoting him to captain, Martin surprised everyone by retiring to civilian life. He had had enough of war and decided to go into business as a professional monster hunter. For several years he was very successful, until he was hired to help hunt down a creature that murdered children. On April 11th, 2010, Martin Blank was lured to his death by a creature known only as “The Ice Cream Man.” While Martin fell prey to the monster, he was integral to its destruction. Even in death, Martin held to his ideals and fought to make the world a better place.
He is survived by his goldfish, Sparky.
Quillian Frost
Born May 16th, 1982
The body of Quillian Frost, multi-millionaire and grandson of the founder of Frost Megacorp, was found today in a small town in Maine. Although the body had been dead for several months, police are certain foul play was involved. Authorities are still confused by the apparent lack of a spine; whether the missing spine was the cause of death or a message by the killer is still not known.
This reporter has found reports of strange incidences taking place in the little town. The first is the disappearances of the population of the town and reports from neighboring towns of fires, explosions, and gunfire from the direction of the town. Whether Mr. Frost was directly involved is unclear.
Mr. Frost had been in numerous incidents in the past with the CEO and former CFO of his family's former megacorp, with accusations from both sides. In the past year there seems to have been a cooling of aggression and anger. Involvement from his former adversary has been ruled out as unlikely.
When asked for a comment, the Frost CEO stated, "Quillian and I had our differences, but he was a good kid. As a close family friend, it's a shame his father's decision about the future of his company caused such a rift in our relationship."
Mr. Frost had no heirs, and for this reason his corporation received authority to seize all of his assets and to dispose of them as it sees fit. His corporation will be partitioned. Some contention has arisen with the Chinese government over the properties and businesses there. It recently came to light that Frost had filed a will with the Chinese government giving them exclusive rights to his property in China as part of an agreement made prior to his death. The Chinese government has declined to release the contents of the will or the agreement for reasons of national security.
It would seem that in conclusion Mr. Frost's death will be as much a mystery as his life and the ramifications of that death may not truly be known for years.
Marsha Fielding
Washington Post
Obit.s
Vasili Romanov, slain by Pumpkin-heads.
Vasili was a young man, born in Veliky Novgorod, and an aspiring politician who loved his country and its history. He was a trusting and friendly man, and he leaves behind numerous friends who will miss him greatly. Our country is lessened by his loss, and we send him off, to wherever he may go, with our best wishes.
Vladimir Zolnerowich
Born: July 7th, 1975
Vladimir Zolnerowich, more commonly known in the U.S. as Victor Romans, was an unflappable and stalwart companion. He was born to a successful arms entrepreneur, Stepka Zolnerowich. His father’s success caused a great deal of trouble for Vladimir in his youth as he was frequently taunted by children for being the son of a “Capitalist.” When he came of age, Vladimir decided to join the Russian Army in an attempt to move out of the shadow of his father and help establish the family legacy as true patriots.
During his service as a Spetsnaz officer, Vladimir's father was brutally murdered. The murder was never solved, embittering Zolnerowich against the government he loyally served. When his military service came to an end, he moved to America and attempted to start over.
He did odd jobs for a time before becoming a licensed mercenary who specialized in hunting and destroying supernatural threats. His combat skills were prized by his companions, but it was his loyalty and unquestionable reliability that made him indispensable.
On May 8th, 2010, Vladimir Zolnerowich aka Victor Romans agreed to lead an untested team on a mission into the backwoods of England. He was never seen again. While no one witnessed his demise, every friend of his knows that he went out fighting. There are too few men made of such quality.
Romans is survived by the men who fought at his side, and drink to his name.
He will be truly missed.
[Deutsche Welle news in german]
A mini-van exploded last night at a petrol station in the suburbs of Stuttgart. A bystander was shot through the head in cold blood. Evidence points to the explosion being a targeted assassination of one Bill Harding. He was an American rodeo performer. What is unclear is why someone would want to kill him and why they would go to such lengths to do it. He appears to have been killed instantly by a shaped charge mounted under his seat. There is evidence that there were other people present and that they somehow survived the blast and fled. An investigation is ongoing.
Morton Von Lebowitz was the Mastermind of Skull Island he had a large army of somewhat idiotic henchmen. He was a fairly cruel man and showed little regard for other men. Though seemingly good natured and jokey everything he participated in had a somewhat sinister ploy to it. He was murdered in cold blood on his first mission off of the island by a man named Thomas Malcom who stabbed him with a scythe after Morton patted him on the leg and said "You really like killing don't you?"
A private investigator from New York, New York. His time as a contractor was very difficult for him. During his first game he was turned into a rat, had his throat slit, was tortured, was neutered, and (to add insult to injury) walked through a sewer. During his second game he was incapacitated by Tseroka, a beast of unknown origin. Due to his enervated condition, Thomas Malcom, another high roller (responsible for the death of professor Morton Von Lebowitz), deemed him to be unworthy of living and slew him with his scythe. Tracy Pine would be quickly avenged however. See Thomas Malcom's entry below.
Thomas Malcom was as inhuman as a human can get. Known for his distinctive ice cream suit and wickedly sharp scythe, he is responsible for the deaths of two other high-rollers: Morton Von Lebowitz and Tracy Pine. Moments after slaying Tracy pine, Avarice, another high roller who was present, threw a naginata through his chest, killing him instantly. Thomas Malcom doesn't hold any bad blood, however; in his own words, "Death is only the beginning."
Chet Chelias was just your average everyday bank robber, until one day a Chinese gangster Haun Chi got mad at him and decided to punish him. When Chet awoke on his first day as a high-roller, his girlfriend was lying next to him, dead, and there was a video tape on his side table. He had been infected with a "biophage" that sapped his adrenaline, and if he ever let it be totally taken away he would die. So he went on high-speed joyrides, and murdered people, and did cocaine, until later that night he was killed by a tentacle monster in a sewer.
Frederico was not always the famous and mad artist that many knew him as. There was a time, a long time ago, when he was a normal man like anyone else. Touched with the brand of envy, he fell madly in love with the wife of his best friend, finally meeting her for a single night of forbidden rendezvous, wherein his life was changed forever. His night with such an aspect of perfection drove him permanently insane and gifted him with the artist's gift. That same night, however, a robbery was committed in his name, and Frederico was sentenced to ten years of prison time. When he finally emerged, he vowed to find his true love wherever she might be.
However, his quest was cut short when, after murdering several white house office members, he was hunted down by a government-employed ninja and chopped to pieces.
-Seasoned-
Dr. Aaron “Doc” Adams, Ph.D.
Born August 17th, 1972
Tragedy struck Aaron early in life when a drifter murdered both his parents. Young Aaron was only ten years old at the time. The killer was eventually caught by Benjamin Havens, a local telephone repairman who volunteered with a civilian investigative group. Havens would go on to adopt Aaron and instill in him the passion for solving crimes. Aaron decided to dedicate his life to the pursuit of justice, but believed he could do more good in the world as a law enforcement consultant than as a police officer. He enrolled at Brown University, where he minored in journalism, majored in economics, and received a Ph.D. in forensic psychology.
In the following years Aaron would consult as a forensic psychologist with myriad law enforcement agencies, journalistic groups, nonprofit organizations, and private citizens, using his specialty to hunt down human monsters.
Eventually he realized that true monsters were an even greater danger and spent the later years of his life fighting against the supernatural. His career as a hunter was marked by both triumph and controversy, but Adams never stopped striving to help his fellow man. Sadly, his time on Earth was cut short on the 16th of September in the small village of Lower Walsherham, England. When his team was attacked by a beast too monstrous to name, Adams sacrificed his own life to save his companions.
Though he led a troubled life, Aaron died a hero.
He is survived by his cat, Snickers.
Quan Chi'
Born July 28th, 1983
SONG SHAN, China, 8/29/2010 (AP) – Reports are now filtering in that the Shaolin Monastery has declared a day of mourning for one of their own: a high-ranking monk by the name of Quan Lin Chi'. Word of the death of the monk on missionary duties, who was killed recently in the New York Catskills, has just arrived at the monastery. The venerable abbot declared a day of mourning and spoke a few words on behalf of the deceased.
In an impromptu speech to the monks of the order and gathered reporters, he said, “Quan Chi' was a shining example of what one can do when heart and mind are joined for the good of all. I have known for a long time that he was destined for great works. He was a student, a teacher, a warrior, and a humanitarian, and a friend to all. He worked to help those in distress and sought to understand why humanity had turned its back on itself. He was and is an example of what one can achieve when forced to confront the great evils that assault us in this world. He far exceeded what those around him thought possible, showing the world the true power of Zen and Chi. I know I will miss our talks and lessons together, in which I learned as much as he did, as well as his unique perspective.
“It is said that student and master travel the path together until their path splits, taking each to their destiny, both hopefully taking with them that which we all must learn. If immortality is to be remembered, then Quan Chi' is indeed immortal, for none that knew him will ever forget him. He has touched so many lives in the remarkably short time he had on this earth.”
The Monastery has sent messages to Tibet and the rest of the Buddhist world. The content of these messages is still unknown; whether it is a request for a gathering of the heads of the various Buddhist sects or just notification of the monk's death has been grounds for speculation. No public communication between all the sects has happened on this scale since the 14th Century. Until they decide to enlighten us, we are left to speculate about the messages and the man.
Andrea Robbins
Boston Tribune
Students, attend. I must tell you something.
It has come to my attention that some of you believe that I am unnecessarily hard on you. That my lessons will be of little use to you, in your lifetimes. This is not the case. I teach you because you have the potential to become so much more than you are, and you must be as strong in mind as you are in body to survive in this world. Most of my students are. Some… some were not. Zane Traxis was, perhaps, the most gifted student I have ever taught. In time, he could have surpassed me with ease. But he focused too much on his strength of body, and neglected his spirits. He had weaknesses, terrible weaknesses. Weaknesses which were exploited, used to break him. He died in mind and in spirit, long before he died in body. It was… my greatest disappointment. If I am hard on you, it is because I have seen what can happen to those unwary, to those who neglect their spirits. I will not let there be another Zane Traxis. Never again.
Brian was a reclusive geek with more high scores and hours logged in virtual worlds than any man ought to have. Unfortunately, he decided it would be a good idea to poke an animated corpse with a candlestick, because it didn't seem to be doing anything but standing there. That corpse and te two next to it had C4 in their chest cavities which was subsequently detonated by Thurgood Black. Even more unfortunately, in spite of medical aid, no one saw fit to move him further away from the other two animates loitering nearby before they also exploded.
Gamers such as he ought to be more careful with their dangerous situation strategy IRL: no respawn allowed.
-Veteran-
If you search through the tempest long enough, you may find a small digital voice recorder. If you pressed play this is what you would hear:
"Hey, if you're getting this message… well, it means I'm dead. Damien killed me."
<The speaker clears his throat>
"I don't really know what to say. I was hoping I would instinctively have some idea to what my final words should be… I'm totally at a loss. I feel unfinished. Hell, I'm only 26 years old for fucks sake. When I was told I had a dragon inside of me it was explained to me that the typical gestation was an entire human lifetime. Not… three years!? Three years, versus 70 plus. I've been cheated… worst of all is that now… now. It's been years since I thought about anything but staying alive. Plugging along each day until I could somehow one up my… what did Nick call it? Right, my 'Benefactor'"
<A sarcastic laugh is heard on the other end>
"What I was trying to say though, was that I've been fixated on this… this thing inside of me, and what would happen to me if it were to come to any harm… I've thought about that so much for the past years that I can hardly remember what I wanted in the first place.
<A short pause>
I wanted peace.
<Followed by another>
I wanted a world removed from physical possessions, removed from the physical plane. I wanted the world as one soul, a soul of unity and harmony. I became selfish though. I became power hungry and corrupt. I expedited my own demise as surely as I did the same for the people who stood in my way. It would be one thing if I retained the same feeling that I had when I started the games. If I were still connected to my past ideals of unity. I don't know if I have enough tethers to the Earth. I may not even get a chance to be a wraith. I may just pass on in to oblivion."
<A choked cough rings out>
"This is bullshit. Absolute bullshit. I don't accept this end. Apparently I have no say in the matter. I am dead to this Earth, and will be in all senses of the word by the end of the night."
<A long pause>
"If you get this. If you get this and you know who Damien is. Kill him. Find him and kill him. Hah, I keep saying he, I just can't get out of the habit I suppose. Fuck this. I'll come back. I will fight my way back to this Earth if it takes me the next thousand years."
<A short sob that is caught quick and choked down>
"Fuck… get a hold of yourself… okay."
<A forceful breath comes through the speaker as loud static>
"Zak; you're an ego maniacal freak… but thanks for everything. Especially for taking care of Ida. Every once and a while I get a fragment, a small piece of her. She was wonderful. I can remember that much. I hope the future treats you well. You're weird, but you're a great guy… you deserve the best."
<A small pause>
"Ellis; you saved my life so many countless times. I don't know if you could do anything here, but I wish you were with me. If I make it to the other side safely I'll do everything I can to help Jean and deal with Sid. Thanks buddy…"
<A small pause>
"Dorian… you've done so much to try to help me, you've extended yourself in so many ways for my benefit. I really hope the whole hedonistic cult thing works out. Also, if you make a mythology, please include me as a tragic tale of someone who worked to hard for someone else and was killed for it. I'm sure you can put it in much better words then I can, but, I suppose that if I do make it in to the shadow lands we still have a chance of meeting up again. We'll see, but even if I'm gone for good… Thank you, for everything. You pulled me out of a complete nosedive a few months ago, and I'll never thank you enough. Though you rarely saved my body, you certainly saved my soul."
<A long pause>
"If someone really does find this, get this message to my mother…"
<Another short pause>
"Mom, I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry about Dad, I'm sorry about how I acted when I was younger. I'm sorry I wasn't the son you could be proud of. I did terrible things mom. I've been a seriously bad kid. I just want you to know that even though I haven't been calling as often, and even though we haven't… oh fuck… we haven't talked in, in like a year or two… I'm so sorry. I wish I could see you again, I wish I could right all my wrongs. I'm sorry for making so much of your life so miserable. I love you Mom. I want to do right by you, I want to make you at peace, but… I…"
<A frustrated scream reverberates through the speaker>
"I will find you, we will talk. This is not the end. It is just a pause. I love you Mom. I love all of you. Even the ones I didn't talk about, I love all of you. I guess this is goodbye. So-"
That is the end of the tape, whether Devin wanted to record more, or simply continued talking to someone else as he pressed stop, we may never know.
