OH YEAH?

[Player]

Name/Handle: Wolfy
Age: 24
AIM/YIM/MSN/Plurk/Etc:
Plurk: wolfyttwisted
AIM: catfishsuicide
DA: wolfy-t
DW Musebox/Personal: wolfintheattic
Email: wolfyttwisted@gmail.com
Current Characters: N/A

[Character]
Character Name: JW (James E. Walter)

Source: Original Character


AT A GLANCE: Male, 34, Tall and Scrawny, resembles a hat stand
Proof.


Personality:

TL:DR- A crotchety old bastard well before his time, but still possesses some shreds of decency.


You know that sign at McDonalds that says 'refills same visit only'? They put that there because of people like JW.

Cheap, selfish, and shifty-eyed, James Walter picks his way through life glancing over his shoulder. Growing up in poverty but landing himself in a rather important position as an adult (he works as a sort of 'town hero' in Hawksaw and takes care of any invading 'weird stuff' in return for housing and health care) has given JW a skewed sense of DO WANT and NEED. He wants everything, yet feels 'too good' to have things handed to him. If it's yours, he wants it. If it's addressed to him, he gives it the stink eye and dunks it in water first. You know. Just in case. Money is his weakness. The thin man will go to sometimes embarrassing lengths to obtain it. He and shame rarely speak.

Speaking of 'weird stuff', over the years, having dealt with involuntary time travel,learning to cope with mild schizophrenia, and smoking an unhealthy amount of questionable plants as a teen, James takes the unusual in-stride most days. This doesn't mean that he cannot be surprised, frustrated, and or terrified beyond rational thought by it. He likes to lord the things he's seen over those less experienced with the other-worldly but will often cower and suck up to the magically gifted. GEE, MR PSYCHIC THAT COULD FRY THE INSIDE OF MY BRAIN WITH A MERE THOUGHT, YOU SURE DO LOOK NICE TODAY LET ME SHINE YOUR SHOES FOR YOuplease_dontkillme.

Though he thinks himself 'wise' he's quite fearful of creatures he cannot shoot and or stab. This means ghosts and fae. He has a grudging respect for the fair folk and bears a fantastical kick-me sign that I'll elaborate on below. Powerful (and sometimes not-so powerful) spirits are a never-ending pain in the ass for him once they realize that he can see them and that they might be able to use him as a twiggy sock puppet. (elaborated below)

He also hangs out with a reanimated wolf corpse with a stapled-on wig but that's not really important.

So what's James like when he ISN'T dealing with the other-world and stealing packs of gum from the Dollar Store? He's a bit like a cat. He keeps to himself and roams the wild roads and pig paths. This habit mostly comes from having to keep watch on a small backwoods town. He comes home when it's time to eat. When there's no fence-riding to do, he watches television and bakes or practices carving wooden signs and small animals. He'll hang around people when there's a chance of getting something out of them or maybe just so he can watch them make mouth words at each other. ITS NOT THAT HE'S SORT OF LONELY AND SOCIALLY AWKWARD OR ANYTHING STOP LOOKING AT HIM LIKE THAT YOU SMELL FUNNY.

JW isn't terribly good with people outside of smalltalk or making sales (he bakes and collects strange artifacts from the places he visits.) His temper tends to get the best of him and he grows frustrated easily. The people he gets along with best are those he can intimidate or have enough patience for the both of them. He's a sucker for compliments and tends to enjoy the company of women.

James does surprisingly well with children though. Except the 'cooler than you, old man' teens. He's secretly ashamed of his incomplete education (he was pulled out of school around age 16-17 or so) and doesn't feel nearly as pressured to sound 'smart' around them. He's a bit of a kid at heart, still enchanted by shiny things and sniggering childishly at the odd fart joke or when someone falls flat on their face. He loves a good laugh and can SOMETIMES be caught grinning. Gasp.

Though his moral compass is a bit wobbly (lying, cheating, stealing, more lying, leading people he doesn't like into fae-infested groves so that they end up on the receiving end of their pranks instead of him) he's not out and out cruel. As much as he might talk about it, JW isn't one to go around murdering people. He'll help that old lady across the street, but not without grumbling and moaning the entire time. Even though he's not a terribly good man, he's not a bad man either. That's what is most important.

TL:DR- Just imagine a scraggly barn cat that likes Gilligan's Island, long naps, and laying on the stairs so that you trip and fall over it.

WORK HISTORY

Olivepost Deli- worked till, prepared some meats, cleaned (quit) 1974
Clausele's Grocery- cleaned, stocked shelves (fired) 2007
Kitchen Warehouse- stocked shelves, attended customers (fired) 2007
Hawksaw 1st Baptist- cleaned grounds/ mowed cemetery (quit)2007
Mick's Pancake Hut- worked till, cleaned (fired) 2007
Town Hero- took care of paranormal happenings, kept peace between the other-world and the citizens, solved small mysteries, occasionally grew weed (current employment) 2007--2012


HOBBIES AND SKILLS

-Wood Carving: JW enjoys whittling and carving small figures, whistles, and decorative signs. He's a beginner carpenter and can make simple, rough furniture. It might not look pretty but it works.

-Baking: He may not look it, but the man knows a good cake. He does commission orders (he leaves fliers in shop windows with a list of what he can make, working dates, and a phone number) and sometimes bakes for church functions. If you want rat poison or screws put in, though, that costs extra. He does not care, he will make what you ask him to.

-Scavenging: Everything from antiquing, dumpster diving, and cutting open discarded sofas, James knows how to make a quick buck. This man uses coupons in ways your grandma wishes she could.

-Being Lazy: Self explanatory.

-Yard Work: When he's not being lazy, James WILL clean up a yard for a wad of ones. He'll pick up sticks, weed gardens, mow, and weed-eat. He takes a lot of breaks though.

-Exploring: JW likes to know the lay of the land. He makes it his duty to pick through every trail and pigpath he happens upon at least once.

FEARS

-Big black dogs: JW does not like dogs on a good day but he's terrified of large-breed dogs, especially black ones. Dogs that show signs of sapience (ex- talking or wearing hats etc) don't bother him AS much but he can't help but side-eye them.

-Magical abuse: Though he's seen a lot of 'weird' stuff and is somewhat used to it, he's still afraid of those more powerful than him. He's got a history of being zapped and transformed by others who were only in it for the lulz. JW has one of two reactions to magically gifted folk he meets: a) SUCK UP or b) LOATHE AND RETREAT

OTHER STUFF?

-Dem Antlers: JW has a seasonal set of antlers. They follow the growth cycle of white tail deer and consist of a single beam with prongs. They are somewhat brittle thanks to James's poor health and diet and are angled back rather than curving forward, making him a joke of a horned creature. They were placed on him as a sort of 'kick me' sign by a mischievous phooka for eating his blackberries. He will bear the antlers for the number of years equal to the number of berries he took.

-Scarecrow Build: James is a noodle. A brittle, uncooked, spaghetti noodle. He's terribly underweight and not very strong. He can run on his long legs but only in short bursts. Somebody give this boy a sandwich!

History/Pull Point:

HISTORY

TL:DR- JW had a rough upbringing but found solace in a friend's home during his teenage years. He was a bit of a hippy and a scamp but when a hereditary mental disease reared its head he went into denial. As a result, he ended up killing his significant other and ran away to escape his crime. Then he fell through a time rift, jolting him from 1974 to 2007 and a bunch of other weird crap happened to him involving ghosts, dead dogs, and a phooka named Racecar. There he resides and 'takes care' of what otherworldly things the Hawksaw backcountry has to offer so that the people in town are safe. It's a living.

=====

ONCE UPON A TIME (try 1950) IN THE LAND OF TENNESSEE, A WEE BABBY NAMED JAMES WAS BORN and his childhood wasn't so great. Unchecked mental illness, pneumonia, and alcohol rarely mix well in the deep south and one thing lead to another. James's mother died due to an enlarged heart and it destroyed his father. The only logical response Mr. Walter could come up with was to blame their five-year-old and go off the deep end.

Y'know. As one does.

His grandfather took him for a few years and that was pretty nice. There, he learned about hard work and carving and how to be an alright human being. His grades were low in school, but passing. When the old man got his ribcage stamped in by a spooked mare, JW was hotpotatoe'd back to his father's house. Unfortunately the man was a little more unhinged than he had been when the boy was taken away from him. It's 1964 and 'no1cur'. After only a few years he was pulled out of school because Mr. Walter's delusions had grown so intense that he thought James was making the police watch their house and somehow his bad grades affected that. JW eventually started to 'cur' because kitchen chairs hurt and in 1968 he gave the man a piece of his mind (and took his left eye just to drive the point home.) He knew the whereabouts of the horses his grandfather had owned, stole the one that had been his, and cut a trail south.

THERE HE ENCOUNTERED THE MAGICAL LAND OF OLIVEPOST which was a city bigger than any JW had ever encountered before. Meaning it had more than two grocery stores holy crap. He met a young man named Horas and was forcibly adopted by his mother into her litter of four some odd children. The horse came too. JW had become a mumbly, ill-exposed creature by the time he showed up on Horas's doorstep by accident but a few years with the Valentine family patched up the kitchen-chair inflicted wounds. For the first time he lived in a functional family home, even if there was no father present. Mrs. Valentine's cooking was AMAZING. He and Horas became best friends and grew into young adulthood together. It was the tip of the 1970s and life was sweet for several years. He never did go back to school and acquired very basic driving skills.

He picked up some super basic Spanish and as a result his normal speech (english) is quick and he bares his teeth when he speaks. Still says groovy and whatnot. God, JW, this is...like 20012 or something. Do some more time traveling. Oh wait that hasn't happened yet. Also marijuana. HAKUNA MATTATA. Or not so hakuna matata because as James continued to mature (he was a late bloomer, give him a break) an ugly something reared its head in the back of his head. The big S word. No, not that S word, the one where you feel like the mailbox is looking at you. He liked to pretend it didn't exist.

And then there was this girl. It's always a girl. Or a guy. God, what was I talking about? JAMES FELL IN LOVE but his condition worsened. He tried to cover it up with his drug use but both Gloria and Horas started to suspect something was wrong with him. They drew him out of the skunky cloud he'd put around himself and for a little while, things were better. Unfortunately his logic skills were about as good as his father's and he decided to just...not tell his girlfriend that startling him while he was muttering to himself in a dark alley after being chased by dogs while biking wasn't a very good idea. He was breaking down boxes. With a knife. You can probably guess what happened.

With blood on his hands, JW fled the town on horseback that very night. He plunged straight into the backwoods and forced his aging horse into a broad, deep creek, thinking they could cross it in his panic. The water was too high and the bed was lined with sharp rocks. The horse stumbled and sent James into the freezing water. The year was 1974.

JW woke up in a ditch miles and miles from Olivpost. The memories of what had happened between him going underwater and waking up on the outskirts of Hawksaw had been torn away like an old bandaid, leaving only the oozing wound of unknown origin for him to deal with. He dragged himself into town and after startling a barber and getting a slash to the mouth with a flip-razor did he remember what happened. He had committed a murder. He had to tell the police. It was the right thing to do. However, before he could get the words out, he passed out right there in the office.

He woke a second time in a hospital bed. The calendar on the wall said 2007.

This is where the weird stuff starts.

Admitting to the murder of a woman who died thirty some years ago when you, yourself, were only a few winters shy of thirty doesn't add up. Especially when your photo shows up in the report as a missing person. The Hawksaw Police decided to stuff this under the sofa and pretend it wasn't happening because they had enough weird stuff happening as it was. Not that they'd admit to that either.

The local church took pity on the scraggly stranger and passed him from job to job and home to home trying to get him back on his feet. As he settled into the new time period, JW grew grouchy and bitter. All his friends were ancient or dead, surely. What was all this technology bullshit? There weren't even flying cars. What's an internet? How are these phones so small? Why did people laugh when he asked if they won the war? Nobody would believe him when he said he came from the 70's. He developed a small rivalry with the chief of police because JW's existence bugged him and he knew it.

Eventually it was decided that James was to take care of the old house on the top of the hill. The house was weird and crooked. JW was weird and crooked (at least his nose was after having a run-in with a doorframe when he was 22). It was perfect! Cheif Bugle was against this because putting two weird things together could only make things worse. He was right.

Every town needs its weird old guy. Only the oldest Hawksaw residents remembered The Old Man for what he was. People say he was into the occult. People said he tried to raise the dead, challenge God himself, and ate rats. People said he crept into peoples' homes at night, stood outside the hospital and drew strange symbols on the windows, and kept some kind of horrible animal. Or maybe the animal kept him. No one can say for sure. Chief Bugle found the man dead in the house on his first investigation, back when he had only just joined the force and had hair. The room he'd been found in was scrawled with strange symbols and looked burned. The body was slumped over a melted candle with thread in its hands. The Old Man was dead. The strange air of dread lifted from the town.

Sure, put the weird time-travel guy in that house, that makes sense.

For the first few nights, James wrote off the slinking shadows he saw as his mind playing tricks on him. He was, so far, untreated though diagnosed. Medication be expensive, yo. Then he woke up to what looked like a half-assed taxidermy wolf mount standing at the foot of his bed telling him to "Get Out" in the most cliche spooky voice she could muster. James, sick and tired of being hot-potatoe'd around his whole life, promptly told her where she could shove it and they fought. She slashed his eye on her way out the second-story window and within a day it had grown infected. The wound seeped. The scabs that tried to form over it peeled away easily. The vision in it grew blurry. This sucked because his vision wasn't great to begin with. The man could do with a pair of glasses, ghoul eye or no.

For several days JW camped on the sofa with a shotgun and a shovel and did not see the wolf. The wolf, who was called Deuteronomy, lurked the edge of the property and hated him more with every passing day. The Old Man had been her creator and master and nobody had disturbed their home for well over forty years. She hated The Old Man for killing himself, sure, but she was made to protect this place and that was what she was going to do. Now some string-bean was in her master's bed and cleaning up her master's yard, rooting through her master's old things, no doubt getting ready to empty the place and have it demolished.

One day James went to the store. Deuteronomy saw her chance. She tore open the back storm door and rushed into the basement. She pried away boards and slithered into the basement below the basement where her master's mistake had been sealed away. Its name was Creepshow and it was a terrible creature he'd made (the same way he crafted Deuteronomy more or less) out of malice to set loose on the town that had dissed him so badly. He changed his mind towards the end and focused more on harming himself than others so Creepshow was locked away, unfinished. Deuteronomy released Creepshow and instructed it to stay within the house and eat JW when he returned.

Creepshow was like LOLNO and fled into the town. Now Deuteronomy had an even bigger problem. If the townspeople saw that thing they would destroy her house for sure. JW came home to find both his doors off their hinges and a frantic undead animal pacing in his livingroom. He threatens to blow her head off but she stops him and explains herself. She learns from JW that he only wanted to live in the house, not tear it down. It was the only place in town he belonged.

They make a deal. Deuteronomy will leave him alone if he hunts down Creepshow and kills it in order to stop the house getting demolished. SCOOBY DOO SHENANNIGANS CHASE SCENE WITH BLOOD AND CAR WRECKS YEEEAAAAH. Obviously with smashed cars and injured civilians, Creepshow's presence isn't a secret for long. With the cops (all two of them) on their tails, JW and Deuteronomy track Creepshow to an old garage where there is a showdown. The police witness the Weird Guy going after the Scary Thing with a shotgun and though the garage is set on fire and a small piece of Creepshow escapes into the woods, they decide that it might be a good idea to have Weird Guy around since he seems pretty good at dealing with Scary Stuff.

JW wants to protect his and Deuteronomy's home. He and the wolf corpse bond during the hunt and battle and retire to the house. There is a town-wide agreement that the rest of the country should not know about what happened that night. JW is put in charge of keeping things like that from happening again. In return he is given the medical attention he sorely needs. He can't keep a proper eye out for otherworldly things if h can't tell reality from his hallucinations.

And so, to this day, James lives with Deuteronomy in the spooky old house on the hill and keeps watch over Hawksaw. They've had several more adventures, but that's how it all started. He works odd jobs and occasionally causes scenes in the street, but he's pretty nice to have around. Just in case Creepshow comes back, y'know.

If only he'd stop stealing people's newspapers. What does he even do with them?

ABOUT PULL POINT

The year was 2011. James was on the way to the store to buy some eggs because Mr. Shirley, his neighbor, had suckered him into it. While waiting in the check-out he discovered a mysterious book wedged into the candy display. Something made him...want to pick it up. He wasn't a well-read man but it looked like it was in good shape and surely he could pawn it off. Better just...check inside and see if he needed to tear out any of the pages. Nobody wanted a used journal--

And he was gone.

Abilities/Special Powers/Non average skills:

WHO YOU GONNA CALL?- Deuteronomy, an undead construct of sorts, scratched and infected his eye with...something. Neither she or he know exactly what happened. Maybe it was the will of the Old Man. Either way it has blessed poor James with suck. With that eye he can see whatever ghosts and haints are around. This occurs only in the bad eye and causes his eyesight to suffer even moreso than it already was. He's rather nearsighted. There is no controlling this. It's on, 24/7. Imagine a stubborn, fuzzy channel trying to phase through whatever you're watching all day, every day. The scar over it will not heal properly. It seeps, scabs, itches, and peels. He's tried everything.

With this 'gift' he occasionally investigates places that are said to be haunted. Being able to make eye-contact (sort of) with spirits gives him a leg up when it comes to communicating with them. He makes a little pocket money this way. Somehow being this aware of spirits makes him a sensitive to their presence. Dizziness and nosebleeds are common near strong or ill-meaning spirits.

According to James, only idiots use Oujia boards.

[Game Specific]


Character class: Wizard/ Hedge Wizard/ Good-for-nothing with Magic

Why your character would be that class:

Pure cruel irony. I think it would be fun to play JW in a situation where he had to learn to use and control the magic he so often fears. What will he do with it? Will he be a good witch or a bad wit-- I mean wizard. Yes. Exactly.

Powers/skills to be gained by being that class:

Rather than just listing all the things JW WILL be able to do, I think it'd be easier to write down the things he can NOT do first to give an idea of his 'cap'. He isn't going to know how to do anything right off the bat. He'll have to read spell books, experiment with potions, and (the horror) practice if he wants to bend magic to his will and accomplish anything. A lot of these attempts will end with botched results, no doubt. Some good conflict fodder right there.

James will not be an ALL MIGHTY WIZARD. He will not be able to open portals to Hell, move mountains, throw an ocean at someone, predict the future or dig through the past, time travel (he's had enough of that, thanks) erase countries, ride tornadoes...you get the idea.

The nature of his magic will probably lean towards transformation (of himself for disguises and of others because he's an asshole), teleportation, simple, breakable curses to cause others discomfort or unhappiness (such as losing all your hair when you say the word 'cabbage'...yes, JW is a manchild). Some enchantments to make his own life easier, such as floating a chair over to himself, shutting the windows without getting up, lighting a fire.

ALL of these things will have to be practiced. Botched magic is probably a lot scarier than the things he'd try to accomplish. If the squirrels in the area suddenly have an extra leg, chances are you'll know who's responsible.

A lot of it depends on what others and the world of Einmal throw at him. He might not advance past making bread that lets you float.



[Samples]

Log sample:

A miserable looking creature stalked the castle halls with a frown on its face and a pointed hat clenched tightly in its fist. What good was a hat when you had antlers? James Walter wasn't having a very good morning. First his neighbor suckered him into going to the grocery store for her when he'd much rather be sitting on the sofa and watching Gilligan, then when he actually went out of the goodness of his own black little heart, he found himself whisked away to the land of What the Fuck Ever. He didn't care what its name was. That's what he was going to be calling it.

Maybe if he thought of it poorly enough, its feelings would be heart and the place would send him back home.

With a swish of his loud, purple robe, he turned a corner and found himself right where he started. He remembered that decorative door plating. He remembered the painting on the wall. Those Ye Olde style paintings always looked a little derped to him. He mouthed a few soundless curses and turned on his heel. All these blasted halls looked the same!

"Really?" he asked of the echoing castle. "Really? This is how it's going to be?" He twisted the hat between his hands. The delicate stitches in its brim squeaked. He hurled it to the floor and stomped on it with a dollar store sneaker for good measure. "You want a wizard! I'll give you a wizard! I'll-- I'll-- I'll call down a pox what makes teeth grow out your eyes! You hear me!"

In all honesty he had a better chance of doing that to himself. Which was part of why he feared the sparkly stuff so. This wasn't any shade of fair! It wasn't! He'd never done anything harmful to a magic user...he just hated them. Karma usually had bigger fish to fry than him. All yelled out, he slumped and continued on his mopey journey in search of a door. Or something (perhaps someone) to punch.

Orb sample:


[Anyone Orb-gazing is treated to an extreme close up of a big, gross, yellow eye.]

Th' hell is this thing supposed to be?

[The eye moves. A mouth appears. A couple of the teeth are missing. The man bits his lip and sucks air between his teeth, as if he were trying to dislodge a stubborn shred of lettuce. All the while he mutters to himself as he inspects the damage in his reflection. He's got a busted lip and a few scratches on one cheek.]

[It's then that something occurs to him. His expression blanches as he leans away from the glowing sphere, revealing the polished steps of the castle behind him.]

Oh, God, you're probably magic aren't you...They said somethin' about that, didn't they? [He gives it a little shake.] Hello? Is this thing on? Operator? How do you change the channel on this damn thing...What'r you lookin' at? [He turns to glower at one of the castle servants who had lingered on the steps to watch him only for a moment.] That's right, keep walkin'...