Matthew Dial


Matthew Dial


Haunted Guy


Ol' Geller: By spending a Fate Point, Moniker can add 1d6 to any
skill roll dealing with the bending of spoons.


My Trusty X
Trouble's My Mother's Maiden Name
Strong as an Ox, Almost as Smart


  • Skill 1: 4
  • Skill 2: 3
  • Skill 3: 2
  • Skill 4: 3
  • Skill 5: 2


Clothes. Stuff. Backpack. A joint or two at times probably. One slightly dickish ghost.

Personal History

Matthew is a college washout, a pot head, he works at kinko's. He volunteered for a suicide hot line on his off nights for a while. Simply because he's as lonely as the people who who call him. One night, he gets distracted while 'consoling' a particularly insufferable caller. A fine piece of ass had just walked by his window. Probably belonged to a hooker, but still. Matthew was not a man to be choosy. While he was enraptured in scumbaggery, the person on the other end of the line realized he wasn't being listened to. By anyone. Many miles away, a person's fingers curled around a gun, and shook at weight of it, the chilly feel of the barrel against their temple…and a bang brought the disgusting, pathetic moment of solace Matthew had found staring at the above average tush of some whore vanishing into the night crumpled. He stared at the speaker of his phone in mute horror…and put it on the table. Shaking hands rolled a joint, and lit it up. He smoked through it, and three more, before passing out. The following days were a blur. He had to prove he hadn't be responsible for the man's death. He managed to convince the people he needed. Matthew stopped working at the hotline after that. He focused on his job at kinko's, and just spent the rest of the time loitering about his city, or in his apartment. Odd things began happening to Matthew. Petty disturbances. Books would go missing, or fall on the floor in hard to reach spots. Somehow entire rolls of toilet paper would vanish when he needed them most. Until eventually, one night at work, he received a tap on the shoulder. He was closing up. There couldn't be anyone in the store. He turned around, and was brought face to middle finger with a disembodied right arm. Male. Matt screamed like a bitch. The arm vanished. This was the beginning of the most pathetic, grating, haunting possible. Wasn't even scary half the damn time. Just annoying. Dicks on his face in sharpie. Stuff like that. Eventually his 'ordeal' had Matthew going to a variety of mediums, psychics, and others of that ilk. Eventually a genuine, if impatient clairvoyant brought Matt to the Library, and suggested he search for an answer here. On his own. So he's begun to do that.