The wise-cracking one, who hides all of his fears and worries behind a smile and a joke- usually morbid- and doesn't let anyone see how much the horrors of war really terrify him...
Sean is writing this bio because some schmuck decided that rulebooks have to have GM bios, and because he was hassled by more than one Rebecca until he did. (And because the last time he didn't write a bio, one of those Rebeccas wrote one for him, and he's lived to regret it. --Ed.) He hears that they are supposed to contain interesting, amusing, or informative stuff in them. Any suggestions? (PS-- a Lesser Kudu is a fancy deer.)
The grizzled sergeant, emotionless, calm, and always with a plan. He's seen this kind of thing a hundred times before, has watched dozens of people- rookies and veterans alike- get mowed down by gunfire or blown up by their own grenades, and he knows that he'll see this thing a hundred times more before it's all over.
John has written more games than he can count, but his math skills were never particularly good, anyway. You want a list? See his webpage. Ok, he doesn't have a webpage. Ask him. He's got plenty of spare time and isn't particularly stressed. Anyways, he's been under a lot of pressure lately. You want more info on him, play one of his games. Wait-- this is one of his games. Well, we're out of space. Deal with it.
The shell-shocked one, stunned and overwhelmed by the insanity and violence all around him; holds his own during the firefight, but afterwards just walks around muttering, "the horror, the horror..."
Deep in the vermillion morass that is a twisted, tormented malaise of charred and spent imagination, I alone stand on the brink. Do not approach, lest I take your very minds and do things to them best reserved for the backs of drive-ins and the fronts of churches. Yea, verily. If left to my own devices, I will descend into an abyss so vast that no two enfeebled emu will be able to save me. Do not claim that you were not warned.
The big, strong guy, usually with a grenade launcher or heavy weapon instead of the regular gun- strong and resolute, but about *this* close to cracking, which he does during the second reel and unloads all of his weaponry at imaginary enemies hiding somewhere in the jungle...
"We're sorry, the GM you are trying to reach has been disconnected. Please check your rulebook and try again."
The young rookie who joined up with the platoon only recently and talks about the girl he left behind in the States and his plans for what to do after the war. Needless to say, he dies in the first reel.
Dave, or Lobo as he is commonly known, is now a deflowered game writing virgin! We saw to it that it was as painful and traumatic as possible, so that he'd never forget the experience. We hope that in the future you'll enjoy the following experiment: Sneak up behind him and say, "Hey Lobo! Wanna help me write a game?" Then watch the fun begin as he falls to the floor screaming, curls up in the fetal position, and quivers in Pavlovian terror, then whimpers, "yes..." Trust us, it's hours of fun! In between alternating fits of sobbing and inane giggling, Lobo has instructed us to thank the following people for his new consciousness:
The veteran with the dark secret, the one who had a terrible, terrible experience the last time she in battle, but who tries to put her scars behind her because she feels such camraderie and love to the other guys in the platoon. Needless to say, the most distraught when Lobo gets killed in the first reel.
Attention, please. This is Rebecca's right mind. We have taken all the finest parts of Rebecca (including her sanity) far, far away so that they remain undamaged by the events of the past month. Listen up, and listen good. If you ever want to see Rebecca restored to her full glory-- or at least baseline sanity-- or the throne of Monaco, that's ok too-- ever again, you'd better take what is left of her, put her to bed under her nice soft goosedown quilt, feed her expensive chocolates, champagne, and strawberries, hire her a big blond Swedish masseur, and run her a long hot steamy bubble bath. Do it alone, and whatever you do, NO police. If you fail to meet these conditions, the thing that once was Rebecca will be set loose to shamble, wild-eyed and unemployed, through the streets until she is cast in a short- lived cheesy UPN sitcom and mocked mercilessly on David Letterman. This is not a joke. We swear. No, really, guys...
Celebrating 10 years in LARPing this year, Mike's first LARP was "FISTFUL OF WU", and was played heavily under the influence of Long Island Iced Teas. Though Mike no longer drinks anywhere nearly as heavily as all that, no one's noticed any changes in his style, which probably deserves some attention from his therapist. Though a veteran player, this is only Mike's 2nd time being a LARP GM (since writing characters for DIGITAL DRAGON 2.0, back in 1992). Mike enjoys STAR WARS, SF in general, tabletop RPG's, pro wrestling, and computers. Mike is easily bribable by physical substances that have long term health damaging side effects, back rubs, or pretty much any request made by a woman wearing any amount of spandex ("Honey! Look what followed me home from the game! Can I keep her?").
He was in live action gaming for a while, then he left for a while, and now he's back for a while.
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