Unnerved some, one in particular so much, that after 3+ years on live, and the entire time in RoR, attesting "Dest only bro!", he realizes how short life is (I wasn't even 50 years old yet
) and how quickly and sometimes painfully, permanently life changes; and being "life" most times for "not so good;" that he stops himself short of flipping out about my departure (thank Sigmar, cos his weeping was getting puuuuhhthetic, even for me) and rolls, of all damned things, a Warrior Priest, with my namesake (of a fashion) to honor me by, realizing he has not even one damn picture of me... anywhere. [The likeness to my original visage is quite accurate, blending some philosophical imagery in with the physics of my "toon's" face and garb... I was a musician in my own mind and a linguist at the core. He (Gnashspike, the quiet Mara who enjoys shredding a mutha whenever he can hitch a ride on a few pros' coattails, enamored with Dest and darkness and Chaos... and someone named "Ooul"... mancrushes are sad, yes?)]And, as I was pontificating above, stops himself short of another weepy flipout... AND ROLLS A FRIGGIN' ORDER TOON!
"It's just not right," he thinks to me... to himself..."for you to be represented by darkness. There'll be enough, and has already been enough, thrown your direction and the Coroner's not made the first cut. Screw that, welcome to the Light Side, baby!" He's a penchant for the dramatic when people he loves up and die on him. My passing wasn't pleasant, there are many questions and too few answers. Guess I 'out-drama'ed him, eh!?
"So your representation in this place, where I can visit you any damn time I want, will be how I, all your friends, family and loved ones (and holy **** there are a lot more than I even dared imagine, which may have changed my decision... and the pressure of [someon'es] thumb on the plunger; and maybe, just maybe, some fine soul, bereft of energy to carry on, someday, somewhere, will read this first and realize how common our prayers are... which is what I would have said when I went on about religion and philosophy as I did quite often, having faced death while serving my Country in the Naval Armed Service, again when I was diagnosed with 'certain death' over a decade ago, and more recently as the Parkinson's symptoms really began to kick into high gear... which is how I got sucked into W.A.R./RoR, as I sat just behind Gnash and Cue while they whittled away many hours online together while I stared dumbstruck at the world they tend to love a bit more than reality.
"No sir," he says," you'll be remembered the way you were seen. Penitent; Free; Pure Energy... oh, and a bad mutha fuka for Order, for The Light of Sigmar. Now REPRESENT!"
Chris, You will be sorely missed, for many, many years to come, which will be a bit lonelier irl. I hope this character honors you in the only way you'd ever allow: Honestly. R.I.P.
Thank you to every community member for allowing me to post this, and help honor a man who truly was a walking miracle.
