Name: Lewis F. Jameson
Age (Actual): 259 (not that he remembers that)
Age (Appears): early 50's
Race: Human
Appearance: Fucking ugly; about 6'3", covered in red hair, Caucasian (sunburned to a terrible hot pink), hairy. He has long sideburns, one beady green eye on his left and a beady blue eye on his right, and a massive handlebar mustache that "the ladies" love, in his own words. Lean and compactly built, though very much in shape. He's missing his left pinkie, keeps it in a jar in a Swiss bank's vault, though how it fell off, he won't say (though he does get quite irritated when looking at pictures of emus). Typically wears giant sunglasses with lenses in the shapes of stars, a pair of scuffed-up skinny jeans, and open-toed sandals which you can see the eleven kinds of fungus growing on his feet. He wears a dark blue Stetson tied to his head by a string and walks with a similarly-colored cane he doesn't actually need (which may or may not contain a dagger), his precious wooden banjo slung over his back. He is disgusting and he will hug you with his big monkey arms.
Powergrid/Powers:
INT 3; he behaves like a 1, though, and those other 2 points are mostly used for vivid and complex revenge fantasies
STR 5
SPD 5
DUR 5
FS 7
Magic Levels; Level 5 Heat Vision
Level 5 Cryokinesis (applied via his eyes, 'cause he's just an optic kind of guy)
Level 4 X-Ray Vision (fuck you, walls)
Weaknesses: Literally his entire personality. A crippling fear of bears, after showing up in a new world and finding that, apparently, they are under impression that he is their "King" and are not trying to murder him. Also, because bears are fucking scary.
Personality: Brazen, brave, secretive, surly, occasionally affectionate, perhaps a bit caring, righteous and justice-seeking to a fault, extremely obnoxious, socially miserable, but most of all, so fucking stupid. He's sort of like a hick stereotype ninja, though he is surprisingly liberal.
In short, Lewis Jameson cannot be explained. Lewis Jameson can only be experienced (and cleaned up afterwards).
History: Yes, well, that's the question, isn't it? Lewis will admit to being born in the Catskills a decade or two after the Revolution, maybe during it or a bit before. He was raised by his brother, after his parents abandoned them in the woods when Lewis was two. Said brother was a whole ten years older than Lewis, though, and surprisingly resourceful. Lewis typically falls asleep after that bit, so no one's quite sure where the hell he was for a good part of history. He turned back up in Australia in the 1950's, when he managed to beat the shit out of armed police and run off. This fight was over a turkey sandwich; Lewis Jameson despises turkey sandwiches, but he loves fighting.
There are a few stories, folk tales, that float around in the Midwest of America and Canada; the tale of the Bear Man, a mighty human of flame red who saved a child from an angry bear, then proceeded to steal the kid's apple and eat the bear in front of his eyes, because Bear Man does not give a fuck. The Spirit of the Mountains, a tale of a supernaturally powerful ghoul who haunted the Rockies and stole apples from small children. The Hitchhiker, an invincible climber who spent his days in British Columbia, flagging down people in their wagons, beating the shit out of them, and stealing their food. The last is the tale of the River Demon, one which is quite popular in the rural parts of Saskatchewan; a man who hides in the Mississippi and shoots fire out of his eyes in order to scare children and take their food, a man who is often seen riding bison and punching bears in their fucking bear mouths.
All of these are true and all of these are Lewis. He likes apples.
Beyond that, the only useful thing anybody knows is that his brother is long dead.
Lewis popped back into existence in 2017 when he suddenly appeared in Crowley's office, looking to apply for a position as a teacher. Three hours later, the math teacher retired and moved to Hawaii. At least, that's what the note with the tiny bloodstain in the corner said. Crowley, not being one to give a shit about the law, gave Lewis the job, though isn't exactly fond of him.
Or he wasn't. Things changed. There was punching. The two bonded, in a vitriolic way. Then Lewis got a wife and a daughter, then his wife (Megan) died. Now, in Lewis' world, this is no big deal - she was reborn in Hell, but the baby? Not so lucky, I'm afraid. Filled not with grief, but rage, Lewis sold his soul to an enigmatic figure who took the name of the Egyptian god, Set, promising to spend his second life serving the ghoul. There came a massive war in hell, and Lewis' daughter was captured by the warlord Azazel, experimented on and warped into an abomination of anture. Then Azazel put a gun to her head, a gun with a very special bullet in it that could erase one's second life before they could ever live it.
Lewis Jameson took the bullet and Lewis Jameson finally died. The war was won and the story ended.
At least, until two months ago, when Lewis returned. But he wasn't Lewis - he was a Lewis Jameson from a world where Heaven burned, where the world is ending, where God battles his supposed creations, and where the name "Lewis Jameson" belongs to a scared and alone creature. And this new Lewis would very much like to know what the fuck is going on.
