James Brownstone

TUMB 01/1,2, 3

Also called The Granite Ghost.

Ugly - (looked like half-ogre). Mottled patterns and ridges on his face. Voice low and deep, gruff, sounded like an old jet engine and a steamroller having rough sex. Also (TUMB 03/7) described as "like an engine giving birth while dying" (TUMB 02/19) He had a somewhat odd appearance. She even found it attractive, in its own way. Between the muscles, the ridges and birthmarks on Brownstone’s face, and his extensive arm tattoos, she could see how a normal person might be afraid that he belonged to some gang like MS-13. TUMB 02/20 Flying upsets him. He didn’t care if the flight was short. Something about being that high up for more than a few minutes always left him feeling off and tired. Maybe it had something to do with the air recirculation. He didn’t know.

Found abandoned when he was about three years old, with clothes on his back, a small box of trinkets, and the necklace. Even then I knew you were special.” The priest laughed. “You jabbered away in some strange language. It wasn’t like anything I’d ever heard. Never did identify it. Not Oriceran - all the tests, blood and otherwise, confirmed you weren’t.” Father Thomas (priest who died protecting him) would be proud of you today. Brownstone had no memories of time before he was found, and that hole in his early life bothered him even more because of his otherwise solid memory. (TUMB 03/1) Sesame Street was one of the few shows he’d been allowed to watch at the orphanage; that and old Fifties Lone Ranger episodes on DVD. Father Thomas’d had a soft spot for the show, but mostly he said television was a vast wasteland for the soul. As an adult, James didn’t disagree. He watched barbecue and cooking shows, but not much else. (TUMB 03/9)

Brownstone and Alison.: The bounty hunter had never intended to acquire a family. If anything, he figured someone as fucked-up as him should stay far away from other people, but now it was hard to remember what it had been like before Alison. Colder. Emptier. Lonelier. The fact that she was in his life gave him a reason to get up in the morning. (TUMB 04/1)

Brownstone and females: He was 1000% totally clueless as to how to act around women, Alison,Shay, females at all. Hadn't had a Mother, and Father Thomas had been his guide at the orphanage, so ??? kept saying, doing the wrong thing (according to the women) all of the time. Women’s emotions usually confused him.

Photographic memory, and does not know the Ishidas. Always took notes of anything important. He didn’t need notes, but he couldn’t risk that some sort of injury or special magical attack might cost him that quality. A notebook represented a nice redundant intelligence source that he could always burn—and later reproduce.

Practices telekinesis. He didn’t use it much. It was weak and almost worthless when he wasn’t bonded to his amulet, but even when he used the artifact and his power was strong he didn’t like it. Maybe it was all a way of convincing himself he wasn’t a cursed monster carrying Oriceran demon blood in his veins. Being a little tougher or stronger than a normal person was one thing, but moving things with his mind? That was clearly unnatural. Much like the necklace, James told himself; the less he used the ability, the longer he’d maintain his humanity. Father McCartney always insisted the Lord had granted him his physical gifts to aid in the fight against evil, but James didn’t know. The Devil could give people powers too. Cheap price too: just your eternal soul. Maybe if Father Thomas hadn’t been killed and the bounty hunter hadn’t grown up watching the Lone Ranger fighting bad guys he might have enjoyed a quieter, more spiritual life. (TUMB 03/9)

Owned dog, Leeroy, who Alison found, returned to him. Drives black Ford F-350 extended-cab, gleaming paint job, high tires. (Older vehicles better. Less crap to hack). Nothing calmed him like the sound of his revved-up engine. Got a wonderful feeling of power he got when he revved his old Ford. Grew up in an orphanage, so didn’t know crap about fathers who weren’t the Catholic priest kind. Old Ford was damaged in ocket missile explosion of house/assassination attempt, had it repaired, got it back and again enjoyed driving it.

Lived in an older wood-frame place. Plenty of space for him, and a nice upstairs loft he used for storage. Used a physical lock. Most people on his block had gone to smart locks—more tech to hack and fail. Extender drones could even do it remotely With a physical lock, you had to kick it open. Or blow it open. Both made noise, though—and noise would alert him that someone was there to kill him. A closet stood right next to the front door, and shoes and boots sat in a neat line on a multi-tiered shoe rack inside. Loves his leather jacket. Every pile of papers was where it should be, with no dust. There was a sealed weapons locker with a palm sensor in an alcove behind the St Jerome painting. Put his gun, knife, and necklace inside it. Didn't wear his necklace unless he had to.

Likes BBQ cooking, his favorite show: Barbecue Wars: New Generation. “We don’t see a lot of non-human competitors on Barbecue Wars: New Generation, so I’m excited to see what magic this Elf pit-master can bring to the competition.” (If he’d been born thirty years earlier, he wouldn’t have to deal with this barbecue sacrilege.(favorites are the Carolina-style sauces. Vinegar and peppers are the keys there, though mustard’s important in South Carolina-style. Lots of variations though, even at the regional level. ) Likes Pork Gods BBQ (TUMB 01/13) Likes Jessie Rae's in Las Vegas. “Best damn barbecue on any planet.” (TUMB 01/13

Likes Irish Stout.

He kept to the philosophy of KISS (Keep It Simple Stupid). But a world going to shit more and more each year, maybe it’d help to reward a kid who’d gone to the trouble of calling him about his missing dog. It wasn’t that he cared about hurting these assholes—he didn’t mind taking down people who deserved it—but killing people, even scum, complicated his life…and that violated KISS. Sometimes the best way to KISS was to go all-in. No nuances meant no misunderstandings. KISS best plan for long-term stability (TUMB 03/1)

Bounty hunter (Could go find myself some rogue-ass Elf assassin and I’d make a shit-ton of money.) Always checking surroundings. He checked his mirrors for suspicious vehicles, drones, or shimmering spots of air. It was hard to guess anymore what kind of tools an individual criminal group might utilize, mystical or otherwise. To the bounty hunter, there was nothing simpler than a Catholic church. You knew exactly what to expect when you entered one, and what kind of people might be inside. This contrasted with the Church itself, one of the most complicated social organizations in history. Confesses weekly. Keeps up his contacts- meeting in bars, etc. Level 4 hunter, when 03 started, Known as a Level Six. 03/7

Artifact hunter. Meets with Doctor F.J. Smite-Williams, Professor of Historical Extra-Dimensional Engineering, which was a fancy way of saying he studied magical artifacts, other wise known as The Professor, or Father O/Banion (when he had his drunk's face on).

TUMB 01/4, 5 James knew all too well how the past could sink its claws into a person and refuse to let go, dragging them down to an abyss of personal suffering. We all grew up reading about history and science, and what could happen and couldn’t—and then we find out it’s all bullshit, and that magic is real. In a sense, everything we’ve known…the truths humanity’s known and told each other for thousands of years were all lies.” “Makes you wonder what that means for the future. There’s still so much we don’t know about Oriceran, and it’s changing everything over here. I see it every day on my job. Fuck, that’s why every country needs bounty hunters now. World-class cynic.

TUMB 01/9 When going to kill the Harriken, James cracked his knuckles and stuck his hands in his pocket, then strolled down the street humming The Volga Boatman. He wasn’t sure why he chose that song. It just seemed like a good tune to kill a bunch of men to.

TUMB Philosophy concerning Oriceran and Earth. You’re not gonna be able to bring a lot of people from a very different place to a new place without trouble. Maybe the trouble smooths out and everything ends up better overall…or maybe it doesn’t. Not really my problem.” “Figuring that shit out is above my paygrade. And besides, trouble’s good for business.”

TUMB 01/17 The Necklace: A silver necklace connected to a circular gold and silver amulet rested inside. Three crystals—azure, crimson, and jade—were inlaid into it. It was something he’d owned since he was a child. Every time he put it on, he couldn’t help but feel inhuman. It had to be all twisted and complicated Oriceran crap. The damn thing’s very touch burned until it finished joining with him. Gave him inhuman strength,healing powers, speed. Also, a voice continually whispered to him, in a language he did not know, whenever he was bonded with it, perhaps offering advice onhis activities, or ??? James sucked in a breath, not looking forward to having to smell and hear his own flesh sizzling. None of that seemed normal or acceptable, even by Oriceran standards. Apparently, no one knew why he had the necklace. His parents had died or abandoned him, and then the only man he’d ever thought of as a father had died as well. That suggested there was dark magic behind the item, maybe even a curse.If magic was real, curses could be real too. Since the necklace might be cursed, James couldn’t take the chance of it hurting anyone else. It was his burden, and his weapon. TUMBV 02/7 He avoided using it, because he didn't know the "hidden cost of its use. The damn artifact might be sucking his life with each use or changing him in some fundamental way, making him even less human. Maybe that was why he had the strange ridges and mottled patterns on his face along with his strength. One day he might might wake up a monster. He just didn't know. TUMB 03/2 The damned whispers from the amulet had grown stronger with each use, so he wasn’t sure how much longer he could use it. TUMB 03/24 In the fight against the special sword wielded by Ikeda, his amulet’s whisper became frantic, almost deafening. After Brownstone had killed Ikeda, and withdrawn the sword, the amulet’s whispering was placid again, almost as if it were content. TUMB 04/8 Asked Shay to investigate it for him, as he needed to know what its powers were, to better fight the Harriken assassins. Shay took pictures of it with a regular lens, and with a UV filter. Showed glyphs with a UV filter, which Shay could research in her Warehouse Four Library. Asked him about the language he had spoken when he was found. Mostly pops and clicks. Xhosa?(Africa) Remember anything about the jungle? Colors? Plants? Animals? Amulet? It makes me tougher, improves my telekinesis, and...it hurts like fucking hell when I put it on. Does it make you stronger or faster otherwise? Still didn’t tell her about the voice whispering to him when he wore it. Shay went to her Warehouse Library, to look up the glyphs, which she had seen somewhere before. Found first reference in Sir Michael Garfield's expeditions to Egypt, where he had recorded similar glyphs, (1920) Found her second reference in Ancient Pyramids of Latin America. Not Oriceran, maybe involving another planet. TUMB 04/11 Professor Armstrong, an academic archaeologist, confirms her theories, and recommends going to an Oriceran scholars, but but a number of historians and archaeologists who specialize more in that area have looked into these so-called Garfield Glyphs, and no one can link them to any existing or past Oriceran civilization. Seek an Oriceran scholar and see if they can help you.

TUMB 02/1 Never had a mother that he could remember. Believes that his life had gone south from the beginning. TUMB 02/4 First the Professor, and now Alison is busting my balls about Shay! TUMB 02/7 Exercise reps at home- no gym - KISS 1000 push-ups, sit-ups, other exercises. Skipped running - no Leeroy - not as much fun.

TUMB 02/20 Brownstone's attutude towards the local small-fry/gangs. Trey talks about Brownstone's attitude toward him and his gang. "You know what I like about you, Mr. Brownstone? You’re a man who understands respect. If someone shows you proper respect, you show ‘em proper respect back. I ain’t no fucking dumbass. I know you could lay out every gang in this area and probably still have time to come home and whack off to some porn. But you leave my boys alone, and I appreciate that.” James offered the other man a quick nod. Still, there was also more to it. Men like Trey kept things under control. Nature abhorred a vacuum, and a city abhorred a criminal vacuum even more. As long as the low-level criminals stayed under control and mostly messed with each other, James figured they were providing a service of sorts to the local neighborhood. “I’m willing to do something for the community,” James offered. “As long as they’re willing to do shit for me. This doesn’t mean I’m running around the neighborhood solving everyone’s problems. James watched the gang leader as he left his house. Alison, Shay, The Professor. Zoe, and now the people of his neighborhood. His life was growing more complicated each week. Father McCartney always told him that he was part of God’s plan to fight evil, but he didn’t know what he believed.

TUMB 06/9 Brownstone on sex and women: He was a virgin—about the last thing he wanted to admit to two Marines and a cop. If sex was great, then it made more sense to spend a lot of time with one woman than fucking a hundred. Shay was still waiting for him to make a move and he hadn’t. Maybe she still thought he was gay, even if they were together. He didn’t know. Didn’t care. Sex would come when the time was right. “You light a piece of wood it burns, gives you coal, gives you ash. You talk to a woman, you have no fucking clue which way it will go.”

TUMB 06/12 As Brownstone agency is working out so well, James is thinking that he might want to develop his own BBQ restaurant. Not run it himself (he's not that good a cook), but still be able to go and putter in the kitchen if he wants. He liked the idea of having his own small barbeque kingdom.

Brownstone on BBQ flavors : You ordered the House Special ribs. Is Memphis style your favorite?” “I don’t know. I used to say Carolina styles, but now I don’t know. I’ve always loved all types of barbeque.” “Oh? Something change your mind about the Carolinas?” “All this Nadina stuff and a recent trip to Japan has got me thinking I shouldn’t limit myself that way. It’s like every time we taste barbeque, we’re tasting one tiny piece of the ultimate barbeque flavor but missing so much. Only by trying all possible barbeque can we approach knowing what the essence of true barbeque is.” What got you started on your love of barbeque?” “I was raised in a Catholic orphanage.There was a priest who was like a second father to me. Father Thomas.” “This priest was into barbeque?” Mary asked.“Yeah. Now that I think of it, all my earliest barbeque memories involve him. He liked Carolina styles, so I guess that’s why I’ve preferred them. I still remember the first time I smelled that delicious meat on the grill. My mouth watered and I wanted to run down there right away, but Father Thomas wouldn’t let us eat until everything was ready and we’d said grace. It taught me that barbeque meant warmth and family."