Dealing With Character Death

It's only natural that when you engage in something that has you figuratively climbing into the skin of another person, you get attached to that person. Like wise, when you're spending a great deal of time and energy on something that's a close part of your life, you get used to that activity as part of the order of things. Therefore, when a character dies, it can throw you for a real loop. Some players grouse, but they go fetch out the back-up character they created for just such an emergency. Some leave the site in a rage to find a beer to bitch into and a computer by which to spread the news. Very rarely, some are not sorry to see the character go at all. Maybe they weren't crazy about some aspects that developed over time, and the death was a neat exeunt into the final night. And then there are those folks whom the event is a wallop upside the head that leaves them floundering around trying to figure out what happened.

Right Ways

The first thing to remember is that the death of a character isn't the end of the world. All stories end. Some take longer roads than others, but eventually, the tale comes to an end. Still, if you've had a long run with a character, or you're particularly fond of it, a sudden end of the road can be hard. So what should you do? Here are some ideas to grab onto during those first few days:

Take some time off. Consider taking a break to just chill out and rediscover those hobbies you enjoy when you're not LARPing. As that favorite slogan goes, sometimes death is Nature's way of telling you to slow down. You may find this advice helpful to give yourself a little distance in creating a new character or to ensure that you don't gravitate automatically toward your old character's former allies and friends. If you want to keep playing, consider seeking out a different venue to get your "fix."

Do a 180 in your next character. Consider death a new beginning when creating your next character. If you played a combat-active former Navy SEAL, try playing a scholar who gets green at the mere idea of a fight. If you previously threw all your energy at a Vampire chronicle, redirect it toward Changeling. At the very least, such a change-up ensures that you won't be mistaken for your old character. You've got a clean slate - make the most of it.

Try your hand at storytelling. So you want some time off from playing, but you don't want to sit at home in front of the tube or the computer? Maybe this is the time to think about storytelling. Find out if your Storyteller could us a hand , or write up a plot to submit. You may discover some previously hidden talents. If you ever had a gripe about how things were ran, now is the time to do something about it.

Find closure. Finding a way to gently draw the curtain on something you were close to is tough. You may attend your character's funeral (very surreptitiously, of course). You may vent through various mediums, like art or sports. You may pause to consider your own mortality. You may fee weepy when you hear a song you associated with your character. You may bawl through your favorite movie while devouring a whole box of chocolates. There's no real wrong way to find closure, provided you approach it with maturity.

Realize it's not the end of the world. The world won't stop turning because Count Marmaduke came to an unfortunate demise at the end of an assassin's cold iron knife or your Silver Fang Ahroun went down while fighting a Thunderwyrm. The neat thing about storytelling games is that when one runs out, there are always more waiting. There will always be more games to play and stories to tell.

Wrong Ways

Now, of course, for every right way to do things, there exists a wrong way to do them. Losing characters does sometimes seem to cause people to lose their heads and do things that they might find reprehensible in other circumstances. So, while I'm not saying that you would rush off and do something so silly, it's good to remember what are the wrong things to do:

Create a character exactly like the old one. Oh, come on now. If you're going to do that, then why are you reading this? Doing this sort of thing gets you responses like, "Get over it." Sequels that are just a rehash of the first story get sneered at. Don't be a sequel. Only rarely are they good as the original.

Come in with a vendetta against your old character's killers. Creating a character who's the relative of your late character and whose only purpose is to kill off the ones who screwed your original character over the first time is a hallmark of a sore loser and an immature player. Should you have a true grievance, take it to the proper authority and let vengeance be the Storyteller's.

Throw a tantrum. To put it bluntly, throwing a tantrum is immature. We've said it before, and I'll say it again - when you play this game, you decide what risks to accept or decline. If you don't like the odds, don't play. It's that simple. If your character takes the risk of becoming an infernalist and doesn't cover his tracks while he busily destroys lives, then few people are going to have much sympathy for you when your character is hunted down like a dog. You took the risk; accept the consequences gracefully. Words spoken in anger, particularly threats and curses, can last for a lot longer than anger itself, and they will certainly impact your return to the game.

Memento Mori

One of the biggest fears of death is that we will be forgotten by the living once we are no longer around to assert our presence. It's part of why we erect gravestones and monuments, to ensure against such an outcome. Legacies of one sort or another are a possible way to cheat Death. Many a building has been built, a library founded, or a patronage made to ensure that someone's name was not forgotten. This tradition isn't limited to the real-life living.

Consider having a character write a will at some point, perhaps with the idea that he's providing for his dependents (be they ghouls, childlings, Kinfolk etc.) or seeing if she will allow Backgrounds like Resources be distributed. The last request of a will ("Bury my ashes in Poland," "Make sure my daughter can finish school") could send characters into the arms new plot while carrying out the late character's wishes or provide some exciting roleplaying opportunities. What if someone contests the will, or your character chooses an unlikely executor that many disagree with ( a Fianna entrusts her will to a Bone Gnawer)? The resulting plot will have the recipients certainly thinking about your late character, although whether it's to take his name in vain or to praise him is another matter. Let the Storyteller know that should your character be declared dead, there's a lawyer or lawyer-type with a letter for someone, which may be interesting in and of itself  if a character has a public persona you weren't aware of.

Another idea is to leave documents in a secret cache for some lucky player. Examples of such might be the letters a Nosferatu was writing to the Tremere he loved from afar (which give some hints about his impending death), a set of very spiritual Gaia poems created by a Kinfolk (which give some observations that prick the sept's conscience a little too fiercely) or an Eshu's travel journal written in Farsi (complete with comments regarding other courts). Uncovered documents can be fodder for smaller , more personal plot lines. (Who might the documents embarrass, or what secrets will they reveal?) Again, it takes pre-planning. Start working on such thing now, even if you don't think that your character is in trouble. Once your character passes on, give the phys-reps to the Storyteller and give her the complete scoop on where the items are so she knows what to do when someone finds the secret passage or discovers the magic box.

Another option that some might look at is to become a wraith. Depending on the character, this progression could be entirely natural. Vampires who didn't reach Golconda, mortals, Kinfolk, Kinain and ghouls are all likely candidates for the Underworld, but remember that the souls of werewolves, changelings, and mages get "recycled" for later generations. This transformation may lead into interactions with Giovanni, Sluagh or other speakers with the dead. One interesting example of such a change was of a mortal nun who was murdered by the Inquisition and became a wraith. Rather than haunt her killers, she chose to watch over several vampires she had known while she lived, encouraging them to maintain their Humanity and becoming a sort of guardian angel. Later, she became a Storyteller vehicle to introduce a new plot that had ties to the Underworld. Just make sure that your character's transformation into a wraith is not an excuse to make other players miserable. It's one thing for a wraith to have the Passion of haunting her murderer, but it's another to altogether to harangue a player non-stop throughout the evening. Such errant ones should be rewarded with frisky Shadows or a quick trip into the Maelstorm.

Lastly, remember that talk is free, and it costs you no actions during combat (unless you're reduced to unconsciousness or torpor). The final farewells to one's beloved, the gasped-out confessions, the curses made with dying breath and the need for forgiveness before death are the moments that high drama is made of. From the most famous lines ("It is finished") to the not-quite famous ("Friends, applaud! The comedy is over."), last words place your character in the annals of the game memory. If your character has a sadistic streak, you could choose to make your passing even more memorable by revealing a secret that affects those left behind. A prime example occurs in Tolkien's Silmarillion, where the dying dragon Glaurung informs the maiden Niniel that her husband Turambar (who is Glaurung's slayer) is in fact the brother who was separated from her as a child. Tender or terrible, last words can make a vivid final impression on the survivors.

Death in LARP is pretty unavoidable unless your character chooses to hide under a rock indefinitely. Eventually, it will find him in some form, whether it's his own or a valued comrade's. When staring down the barrel, remember the words of one pragmatist:

"Who wants to live, forever, anyway?"

In Pace Requiescat