Jameson Cooper
From Changeling Venue
| Seeming | Elemental Woodblood |
|---|---|
| Court | West Court •••• |
| Freehold | Bloom Town |
| Player | Justin McNeely |
Name: Jameson Cooper
Titles:
Seeming: Elemental
Court: Court of the West
Kith: Woodblood/Shadowsoul
Freehold: Bloom Town
Motley:The Gilded Ring
Contents |
Real Name: Officer Lucas Turner
Apparent Age: 27
Actual Age: 40
Concept: Samurai Huntsman
Physical description:
- Mask: Eyes and hair the color of obsidian distinguish this former police officer from the average man. Jameson has a more slight, lithe build on his 5'10" frame. His features are distinctly Germanic and give him a rugged, almost feral beauty.
- Mien: Upon viewing Jameson without the Mask, one immediately sees the rough, woody texture of his skin, as well as the darkness that seems to pulse out from his body. His eyes, already hard and unyielding, emanate with a cold that seeps into the very marrow of one's bones. The years spent amongst the primeval forests of Arcadia, as well as his devotion to the Western Court helped to shape his countenance into what it is today.
History
Basic Timeline:
November 14, 1970- Born to Michael and Elise Turner in Bedford, Indiana.
September 09, 1988- Entered Indiana University pursuing degree in Criminal Justice and Forensics
May 17, 1992- Entered BPD Search and Rescue division. Over the next two years recieves multiple service awards
November 14, 1994- Abducted by One Who Waits In Darkness while searching for a lost child in Hoosier National Forest.
April?, 2007- Managed to escape the Hunt while the barrier between the worlds was abnormally thin
Before Hell:
Lucas Turner grew up in a very conservative family in a VERY conservative town in southern Indiana. His childhood was dominated by the local church, though Lucas never felt completely at home amongst the conservative member of not only the town, but his own family. He found solace in the films of Akira Kurasawa and the grand stories of Samurai in ancient Japan. Often, his play would be themed with glorious battle between honorable foes. His love for Japanese history and disappointment with his heavily Christian surroundings led him to embrace the concept of Bushido, flavored with the Japanese Shinto religious practice.
His family's legacy was in the police department (four generations of Turner men were accomplished policemen). As such, he was pushed into joining the force from a young age. Upon finishing college at Indiana University, he joined the Bloomington police department in the search and rescue division. Growing up in a rural town, Lucas' hunting and survival skills prepared him for a decorated career in law enforcement. In two years, he was instrumental in the rescue of fifteen lost individuals. His predominant territory was the Western portion of Hoosier National Forest. Strangely, since 1957 there had been a rash of missing persons cases based in Hoosier National. Lost hikers, escaped convicts, and missing planes dot the forest's history. Due to Lucas' influence, fifteen lives were saved from the dark heart of the woods.
In 1994, a report came through of a missing 12 year old boy. He was part of a boy scout troop, taking a late season camping trip. The child had walked off to gather wood for a fire, but did not return to the campsite. After a couple of hours, the troop called off their trip, and called the BPD. Three days of searching turned up nothing until, on a hunch, Lucas turned down a little used path that had nearly been reclaimed by the woods. The path led to a small clearing where the child lay unconscious. As he went to approach the child, tendrils of shadow poured forth from the line of trees and dragged the frightened officer off to another world.
Two hours later, a creature with the face and memories of Officer Lucas Turner walked out of Hoosier National Forest with the missing child.
Redemption and Renewal:
In the early months of 2007, the thing who was once Officer Turner returned to the world of man. With him were a number of other Lost, each escaping their own nightmares. Some of these other Lost have gone their own way, though Lucas, who now calls himself Jameson Cooper (after the author of the quintessential 'man in the woods' stories, James Fenimore Cooper) has drawn some of these wayward Lost to him. With the help of another local Woodblood named Strider, Jameson has reestablished himself in Bloomington, even to the extent of taking back up a form of the life he left so many years ago. He currently works for the Department of Natural Resources, patrolling the area of Hoosier National Forest where he disappeared in '94. Perhaps he secretly hopes to once again run across that same Fae who took his life away and pay him in kind.
He considers himself the honorable protector of Bloom Town, following his own version of the Japanese philosophy of Bushido. His is the righteous arm of justice that will bring order to the chaotic community of Bloom Town.
A Day In The Life
Being the scattered memories and collected dreams of the Lost now known as Jameson Cooper
I remember how it started. I suppose that’s why I was able to make it back at all. I remember doing the job I was born to do. I protected the weak. I found the lost. There is irony in that, I think. Or, more likely, it was that very fact that doomed me to this life. I was too good at my calling to avoid notice.
My life before the Forest was almost charmed. For as long as I can remember (provided the memories are my own) I was able to simply skate through life. Granted, I had simple problems and hardships like anyone, but even those did little more than inconvenience me briefly. I remember being able to flash a smile and a few simple words and I got whatever I wanted. My parents weren’t rich by any means, but we lived comfortably. I got all the things I needed and pretty much all the things I wanted. Though to be honest, I never really wanted much. A toy here and there, perhaps a book, and that was all. I knew from a very early age the importance of manners and doing what was right and good.
You could say I was influenced very early. Some of my earliest memories were of the greats of the old Kung Fu films. Bruce Lee, Sonny Chiba, you didn’t get much better than that. Seeing those men thrust from such normal lives into a world of chaos and struggle. Yet they were always so calm. Even when the world around them went insane, they kept their honor intact. I admired that so much. Not that I had much in the way of hardship and chaos, as I said earlier.
Yeah, for me it didn’t get any better than Bruce Lee. That was until I was twelve. That was when I got my hands on the films of Kurosawa. Seven Samurai changed my life forever. Once again I saw men who held their own personal honor to a standard so high, that not even imminent death could break them. Even the one soused, seemingly cowardly character still managed to bring it all together when it came down to the wire. It was from that moment, as soon as the credits began to roll, that I knew my path. I went to the library the very next day. Over the next few months I spent hours upon hours researching and reading about this fascinating culture of the Samurai. It seeped into me so deeply that I can remember my mother commenting on how I quoted the tenets of Bushido in my sleep.
On a trip to Bloomington, I stumbled (quite by accident) amongst a group of Buddhist monks. I found myself lost in a sea of saffron-colored robes and sharp incense. The monks (who spoke English) were almost eager to speak with me. I like to think now that they saw the spark of what was possible in my eyes. They saw what I could become and helped to prepare me for it. My parents finally found me sitting with the monks in a park, deep in conversation.
My folks were conservative people from a VERY conservative town, so convincing them to let me go back to town to talk with the monks was something of a chore, despite that winning smile I seemed to have. Eventually though I won the argument. It became my Saturday routine to go to Bloomington and talk with the monks about anything at all. As time went on, they helped me come to a better understanding of that path of honor and oneness that I found in my favorite films. To my family’s great chagrin, I eventually embraced the Buddhist faith.
This was about the time I was graduating high school. I already knew where I wanted to go. For a boy from Southern Indiana, there’s really only one choice, Indiana University. I intended to follow in my family’s footsteps and become a police officer, but I had my own reasons beyond simply “my whole family were officers.” I saw cops as the samurai of the modern age. I saw them as the warriors of honor and duty, meant to protect those who could not protect themselves. I wanted to be a part of that great legacy. While in Bloomington I continued my studies with the monks. I briefly considered asking to join their order, but I knew that it would mean ending my career so I never went through with it.
Throughout college I managed to still shine with my own light of personality. That winning smile did get me through a few unfinished assignments, though I still never took advantage of it. In fact, I seemed to almost disappear as far as the social scene went. I had plenty of friends, but never did the whole ‘college party life’ thing. I graduated from the university and moved on to the academy. While I wasn’t the most gifted cadet they’d ever had, I was no slouch. I took to the work with the same dedication that I did my studies. I saw it my duty to finish and do the work I felt I was born to do. Upon graduation of the academy I signed on with the search and rescue unit. I had a knack for finding lost things, and a great love for the outdoors, so the position was almost made for me. I quickly rose to some measure of prominence in my unit, successfully completing over seven assignments in my first year. I became almost something of a legend on the force as the ‘great hunter of men.’ I felt my life was pretty perfect. I continued on my path of personal enlightenment, while upholding the tenets of duty and honor in my job and life. The next few years passed in harmony. People would get lost in the forest, I would go find them and bring them back to civilization.
One day, everything changed. It was my birthday, no less. The guys had planned a party for me there in the station, but just as we were getting to it, a call came across of a young boy scout who had gone missing in the woods. The room exploded into action. Some of the guys got immediately on the phone, making the calls to get search parties rounded up, while the rest of us donned the gear and headed out. My record allowed me to be in the vanguard when things like this happened. Some of the more superstitious folk on the force whispered that I must have had some sort of sixth sense, as I always seemed to know just where to go and who to talk to. I don’t think it was ever like that, I think I was just really good.
There must have been thirty of us out there that day, combing the section of forest where the boy had disappeared. He had been part of a scout troop, doing some work on winter camping and forestry, and had gone off away from the camp to gather wood for the campfire. After an hour, the rest of the troop went looking for him. After another hour of fruitless searching, they called us in.
I ranged all over that area. I covered and recovered my own tracks just to be sure I hadn’t missed anything. With the cold being the way it was, I knew the boy didn’t have long. Finally, I told myself that I was over thinking the situation and just followed my feet. They led me deep into the forest along what seemed to be a path that had not been used in a very long time. The forest had nearly reclaimed the path, so that it was almost impossible to see. I wouldn’t have seen it at all if it hadn’t been for the strangeness of it. Despite the bitter cold and recent snowfall, the overgrown path was slightly more lush and livelier than the rest of the forest. Sure, there was still green around, the forest in that area was mostly coniferous, but this was something else entirely. Small blooms dotted the trail as it winded its way deeper amongst the trees. Somehow I knew that the boy had found the trail also, and I kept following it, both to track down the lost child, but also because I was too curious not to keep going. Even then, my Keeper had me. They’re masters of enticement, you know. They love giving you just a piece, making you thirst for more and more until you’ve entangled yourself so completely that there is no turning back.
The Durance
Before the Storm
The path ended in a small clearing. In the middle of it lay the unconscious boy. I ran up to him to make sure he still lived, pulling out the appropriate supplies, warm water, heating packs, blanket. As I approached the still form lying in the pure white snow, my peripheral vision blurred and became dark. The form itself crumbled into nothing more than a pile of maple leaves that were then blown away on a strong breeze. I stood and looked around as the very forest changed before my eyes. It grew darker, more menacing. With each passing second I could see the whiteness of winter’s grip become saturated with the green of deep summer. The trees, before medium sized coniferous pines, thickened and became unto giant oaks. The towered like sentinels, far above my head. I quickly cast about for the path, knowing that it too would have changed and faded like the scene around me, but hoping secretly that my one lifeline back to the world I knew would still remain. It, of course, was gone.
I sank to my knees in the now damp loam that litters any forest floor. I had spent two years finding those who were lost. Now I was Lost myself.
I don’t know exactly how long I lay there in the wet. I don’t think it could have been more than a day, but in that state, in that place, who could tell. All I could tell about the passage of time was when night finally fell in the great forest. Never had I seen such blackness. Even as a child, when the fear of night comes upon you and you crawl beneath your blankets to shut out the night. Even in that black abyss of fear you cannot come close to the void that is night in the forest. I think I finally slept. I can’t be certain, but I think so. When finally I awoke, dawn was just breaking through the trees. It was still extremely dark, but I could make out the indistinct outlines of the trunks that surrounded the clearing. Then He came to me. He was a patch of blackness darker than the shadows that surrounded me. It seemed to coalesce out of nothing until a form, human shaped, stood before me. Waves of fear rose off it like heat waves over a campfire. I was engulfed in its aura and finally knew true fear. You feel it pulse through every inch of your body, until it seems even your marrow shrinks from the source of the fear. The thing gained the form of a man, who sat himself on his haunches before me, eyeing me like a small, frightened rabbit about to bolt from the oncoming wolf. I knew I was prey. It didn’t even have to speak aloud for me to know what was coming. When the thing spoke, I heard its voice in my mind instead of my ears.
“You will run for me now. You will be my game. I have watched you hunt for men in my forest for some time now and you please me with your skill. Now you will be hunted. Show me that skill now as the things of the night chase you down. You may yet survive to hunt Others for me, but that is a long way off. Survive, and you may be rewarded, fail and no reward will bring you back. You have until midday before the first will come for you.”
And then it was gone. It did not slink away, or leave in any normal fashion. It was there one second, and gone the next, as though it had never been.
And so I found myself alone, in an alien place with nothing but what I had on me when I came. I remember weeping. I am not ashamed to admit it. I knew not what I was going to do and had no way of finding out where I was and how I could get back. When I had finished, I took stock of myself. I removed my supplies from their pouches and laid it all out before me on the ground. I then began to shed my cold weather gear and it was then that I got the first look at what I was becoming. I first noticed my hands. My skin had taken on a slightly greenish tint and the skin was rough to the touch. I had lost no sensitivity or movement, but it was definitely not normal. Of all the times to wish that I had a mirror, that was certainly one of them. Unfortunately, mine had broken somewhere along the line. I held the largest piece and tried to look upon my features, but all I saw was darkness. It was the lack of light in the forest, I told myself. Whatever would help me get along.
Into the Woods
True to Its word, at midday I heard the baying of hounds in the distance. Panicked, I gathered up my gear and ran off into the woods. I ran headlong for nearly fifteen minutes in blind panic, careening off the trunks of trees, splashing through murky water and making a general racket that was undoubtedly simple to track. I stopped to catch my breath and gather my wits. I knew I would need both if I were to survive the day. I composed myself and moved with more surety, keeping distance between myself and my pursuer (or pursuers, I didn’t know how many were chasing me at the time). I had trained long and hard in the arts of wilderness survival and knew how to elude a hunter.
I survived the first days in my hell. But the pursuit never ceased. I knew that if I was ever going to find any rest, I would have to seek out my hunter and deal with him if necessary.
I should have said “it” though. A day later I doubled back and tracked down my hunter. I had expected a man with a pack of dogs, your typical forest hunter, but what I saw sent chills throughout my body. Its body was humanoid, its limbs elongated and furry. It walked on two legs, but would at times drop to all four and sniff at the ground. At one point I believe it caught on to some scent or another and it raised its fur-covered maw and howled in frustration. Perhaps it smelled some other game than me. It was a man-beast, part human-part dog or wolf, I couldn’t be sure. And it hunted me. I let it catch my scent and led it to a snare I constructed a ways off. When it was secure in my trap, I intended to speak with it if I could. Try to get some sort of information about where I was and why this was happening to me. But when I started to ask my questions, the dog-man gave a small yelp, jerked, and then stilled. I could see no marks from any arrow or bullet, and it didn’t seem to be ill. But it was surely dead. And thus I evaded my first pursuer.
There is very little else that I remember from my durance. Snippets here and there. I remember evading many such would-be hunters over the three years I spent in the Forest. I was visited occasionally by the dark figure, always to remark on my success with a mix of amusement and anger. I remember that with every passing day I changed a little. As I would utilize the forest around me I became more like it. My skin became more woody, my hair became as leaves. I remember being able to control the Forest around me at least to some extent. I can still do so here, though not nearly to the effect I had. I remember using the darkness as well. It became like a blanket. When I needed it, it radiated out of my very being so that I was as a shadow myself. When I needed food or companionship I flashed that winning smile to the enchanted fauna of the Forest and I was supplied with what I needed. I even used that to my advantage too. I think more than once I called upon the animals of the Forest to help me eliminate my hunters. When they would not assist me willingly I filled that smile with evil meaning and intimidated the unwilling to assist me.
Finally came the day that I had been promised. The dark figure appeared before me and spoke.
“You have proven yourself the most resourceful prey my Forest has seen in some time. You have frustrated and challenged the best the Others had to offer. And now you are ready. You will hunt for me. The Others think they can take my land, take my purpose. You will show them the error of that. You will hunt for me.”
And it was gone again. I waited for my surroundings to change again as they had done so long ago. But nothing happened. The next day I awoke and knew that someone was in the Forest. I knew that it was time to hunt. I had lost myself by this point. Lucas Turner was no more. I was the Hunter now. Part of the Forest and Shade in the woods was I. And I had a job to do for my master. I hunted. I killed. And I enjoyed it. It was my purpose, just as Keeping the Forest was my master’s purpose. I was my master’s hand of vengeance, his Tool of retribution. I welcomed the darkness and the Forest and I was one with them. I was happy again.
And then one day I heard once more the baying of hounds. And it was not coming from an intruder in our Forest. Someone was hunting me again. I was confused. I was angry. Why would my master allow someone to come for me now? Had I not been his faithful Hunter? Had I not given myself over to the darkness to serve him? How could he turn his back on me?
How dare he?
Clearing at the End of the Path
And in that flash of righteous anger, in that realization that I was nothing to the Thing of Darkness, I remembered something. Something that I had buried long ago. I remembered Kikuchiyo, the seventh Samurai, the outsider who proved his worth despite his arrogance and bad habit. And with that memory I remembered the honor that I had abandoned. And the snow began to fall, and a swirling mist blew in across the shrouded ground, and I heard a familiar voice…
Contact Information
E-mail hedgewarden@gmail.com
AIM JamesonCooper
Motley
- The Gilded Ring: Whatever you need, we can get it for you. No matter the difficulty, everything has it's price.
Associations and Associates
Motley Members
- Bao Lóng, The Dragon Lady
- Doctor Houx, The Red Wizard
- Carole Taulapin, The White Rabbit
- Mike Tanner
- Strider
Bloom Town Folk
Other Associates
Local Affiliations
Click here for the Indiana DNR webpage.
Character Inspirations
- The Huntsman -10th Kingdom
- The Most Dangerous Game -Richard Connell
- The Book of Five Rings -Miyamoto Musashi
- Kambei Shimada -Seven Samurai
Soundtrack
Quotes
- "Certainly there is no hunting like the hunting of man and those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never really care for anything else thereafter." -Ernest Hemingway (1899 - 1961), "On the Blue Water," Esquire, April 1936
- "I have wrestled with death. It is the most unexciting contest you can imagine. It takes place in an impalpable greyness, with nothing underfoot, with nothing around, without spectators, without clamor, without glory, without the great desire of victory, without the great fear of defeat, in a sickly atmosphere of tepid skepticism, without much belief in your own right, and still less in that of your adversary. If such is the form of ultimate wisdom, then life is a greater riddle than some of us think it to be. I was within a hair's-breadth of the last opportunity for pronouncement, and I found with humiliation that probably I would have nothing to say." -Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness
- "Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before" -Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven
- "He's not so scary as he seems. He tries to come off all big and tough, but he scritches my ears when no one's looking." -Carole Taulapin, Bunny Beast
- "Oh damn it..." Said after seeing what the Arcadian Goblin Fruit did in the real world.
Rumors
- Jameson has brought a rare Arcadian Goblin Fruit through the Hedge which has taken root in the real world.
- His fetch has adopted the child who indirectly caused him to be taken in the first place.
- Jameson has laid claim to a section of the Bloomington Hedge. It has since been warped into a dark, primeval forest reminiscent of Arcadia.
- He and Doctor Houx have delved deeper below Bloom Town than anyone before them. They met...something...down there.
- He has declared himself Shogun of the city of Bloom Town and domain over the western quarter of Bloomington.
