RPGJames Tex Emerson
Tex is a rancher, a cowboy, a drinker, a borderline racist, and a good ol' boy. He will offend you, and then make you feel guilty for hating him.
a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by ThatsNotPoetry
Last seen at: Gambit's Bar
Groups
Description
It's easiest to imagine Tex moseying along the distant horizon with a rope in one hand and a pair of workin' gloves in the other. He looks as cliche as one would assume, and is equally as Aryan. He walks with a smooth glide to long, jean-clad legs and a little lock of his boot heels in the dirt. He prefers a white undershirt to just about anything else, but he was raised a respectable boy and buttons up when he needs to. Expect a wide belt buckle boasting perhaps his love for his state or for his country, but most likely for the family business: longhorn cattle. Working in the sun can put some color on a man, especially at his neck and the top of his chest. As expected, his hair is short and blond and healthy, often hidden under a clean white cowboy hat. Tex keeps his face nice and smooth, and flashes a white smile that's known throughout his county to melt hearts young an' old.
Personality
Tex is just as quick to laugh as he is to get defensive. He's adamant about things to a ridiculous point--be it his family, rights, religion, or heterosexuality. He doesn't hate minorities, but he certainly prefers "his own." It's a matter of comfort, yanno, and he'll take action for it. He just can't see his own prejudices. He's protective and possessive to fault, and just can't bring himself to disrespect women or his elders. He's everything you wanna hate about the South, and you just can't help but wanna give him a hug.
Equipment
His fists, his truck, and his favorite hunting rifle.
History
Tex's secret love is his "geetar" and a little bit 'a down home folk 'n blues.
James Tex Emerson's Story
- 41 • Page 1 of 3 • 1, 2, 3
James "Tex" Emerson effing test. AGAIN.
James Tex Emerson test test sorry forever
James Tex Emerson dragged his thumb over what might have been the shiniest belt buckle in all of Texas! That smile just wouldn't quit, and it put the most darling dimples at the corners of his handsome mouth. Why, he liked this place already, and moved across the busy room to pause at the juke box. What the hell was all this whiny moody crap? Nah, time for a little Cash. That was it. Something he could tap snakeskin boots to. When the cowboy glanced up to the bar across the way, he gave his white, stiff-brimmed hat a push under the front with his thumb. At the counter, his hips tilted comfortably and he rest a wide palm on the polished surface.
"Scuse me, anybody tendin' bar this evenin'?"
James Tex Emerson raised that unfair smile to the lady behind the bar and gently palmed the front of his head to give it a tip. "Ma'am. 'Chya got on tap back there t'night?" Cause he'd be ordering somethin' dark and strong. And once he had it in his hand, he gifted his sweetest "thank ya kindly," before turning his back to the bar and leaning against it.
James Tex Emerson stared at the glass before him, blatantly confused. Did this bartender know what on tap meant? Beer, woman. It either comes from a tap, a bottle, or a can. But the lady seemed eager to give him something original. So he.. yanno.. sorta lifted it, and gave it a squinty stare. "Spit, ya say? Smells like rum." And tasted like it, too. He made a classic face, though it was rather controlled, and set the glass back down on the counter. "But I'd prefer that beer, darlin'..."
James Tex Emerson shifted where he stood, lifting an elbow as he did so and glancing around it with a pale brow raised. Hi? Who just... does that? "Ello." Beer. Beer please.
James Tex Emerson 's attention was all over the place. He turned his head back to the lady behind the bar and flicked his eyes to the tap and the glass filling swiftly beneath it. Suddenly, he was so parched. "Ah, well, that's mighty kinduvya, darlin." Nothing could've kept that gorgeous white grin away for long. "I'll keep that in mind." A good man doesn't forget good service. But then his shoulders were turning with a slow follow of classic boots, and eyes half squinted for what was likely the rest of his life rolled down to the girl beside him. "Naw, darlin', I don't mind none. Ain't exactly my bar, y'understand. They call me Tex."
James Tex Emerson had only just opened his hand to her for a shake. If she'd carried a dick 'tween her thighs he'da given it a manly squeeze. However, she obviously didn't, and so he just held it with a regular ol' smile in place. "Ain't no harm in that, I reckon." But Tex was so overcome by the plethora of folks and colors and languages in this place that he had a hard time focusing. He wasn't meaning to be rude or nothin', but... And who was that Vayl lady treating bread like a God damn chicken in need of pluckin'?
James Tex Emerson spend too much time watching the weird little thing toward the side of the room. Distressed was an understatement. Vayl looked a little pissed and a little disappointed, and a whole lotta worried. Considering his 'company' had gone silent quite some time ago. Good. She'd been a little odd. "Lookin a little unhappy over here, darlin'. Er..." And she was looking a little less than human. Maybe? Gradually, this place was giving him something akin to the jibblies.
James Tex Emerson was having a hard time keeping his eyes in one place. Her face was too distracting, and he couldn't quite place why. She moved a bit quickly, all over, and he was trying to imagine her being graceful. It wasn't working. And who offered folks bread? This place was weird, Tex decided. "Naw, no thanks." Now you've done it. You're kind of almost in a conversation you wish you hadn't started. You don't have to charm everyone. "Ya'll waitin' on somebody? This place is packed tighter'n a can a' sardines. May be hard ta see 'um."
James Tex Emerson would've taken offense to that if she'd said it! There was nothin' odd about his hat. It was the best lookin' hat this side of the county line! "Nah, no one in pertikilur. That's kinda why I figured I'd go out t'night. ...Now, I know it ain't none'a my business, but that's a mighty innerestin' lookin map you got there." Really, it was. Once or twice, he skipped those calm blue eyes to the mess across the room. What was with all the fightin' and roarin' and whatnot?
James Tex Emerson lifted his head, tipping his hat to the ceiling with a curious glance about the-... oh. That guy. [b]Sett's ladies made his genitals burn just looking at them. It was not a pleasant feeling. His frown twisted to the left and he screwed up his brow at the very thought. Lady with the map, or cybernazimobster? Then again, it sure wouldn't be a boring experience. "If'n you'll excuse me, ma'am, I just gotta ask this fella some questions." Because his balls weren't the only thing itching at the thought of those whorestitutes. He was curious! Every now and then, the blunt heels of his boots would scrape the floor and his fingers would drum idly outside of his thumb-stuffed pockets, while he moseyed right across the room to stand near that feller's busy booth. "Ya'll mind some cump'ny? Ya got my thinkin'."
James Tex Emerson contained himself decently while moving his eyes over the limbs lifting and pushing clumsily. These women looked worn, as though perhaps they'd sold a little of their souls to keep their bodies as they were. Just a little. His painfully home-town ears strained to understand every word that rolled like hot, grating machinery from the German's hideous mouth. Lady? Oh. Oh, that lady. "I don't much think she'd want ta partake." And he turned himself part way to glance back at the tear-drop-faced little thing in the corner. He nodded, the motion impossible to ignore if only for that ridiculous hat. You uh... wanna join me?
James Tex Emerson had turned just in time to squint at that permanently marred face, though his ears were the things focusing, now. What kinda hell-magic...? But Tex didn't have time to ask any of those questions that had been burning up his brain mere moments before. No, his body gave a jerk while something went tight and empty in his belly. He'd just watch that fella kill those young cougars! His voice fell from his chest like a load of bricks, and his hands instantly flew up. "Whoa whoa, holy fu-.. what-.. shit, Jesus Christ, what'd you do that for!? Did you-..! Did anybody see that!? You saw that, lady? What the fuck is wrong with you people! And you! You best tell me those girls was robots or some crazy shit 'cause otherwise we got us some shit ta sort out!" Tex. Don't pick fights you can't win. At least that lady was here. But hell, what was she gonna do? In the end, it didn't matter. Something heaved him from where he stood, and he went stumble-tumbling right into the little lady at his side. That glorious white hat went rolling. God. Damnit.
James Tex Emerson was slack-jawed. Honestly, there was no other word for it. He had fumbled to get to his feet and help Vayl to do the same, but upon twisting 'round for her, he found she was there and ready to tug on him. In fact, he was already opening his mouth, forcibly strangling his voice in his chest. His eyes hadn't been this wide since his last rodeo. If only he had met this weird girl under more normal circumstances, he might have been pleased by how incredibly large his arm felt under her tiny hands. His voice came seething, hushed and urgent. "But-... but he killed them ladies!" Under his hat, his hair was mussed and adorable. Why! Why these strange goings on!
James Tex Emerson couldn't wipe the scowl from his face. It bulged at the corners of his mouth and put dark lines in his brow. Who the fuck did this freak show think he was? Vayl had been right. Tex didn't know how to keep his mouth shut. It would likely get him hospitalized one day. "Now you listen here, you sonuvabitch. Cattle's fer nothin' but eatin'. They's born in bred jus' fer that. You don't see um in the wild 'er nothin'. But those were people. Humin bein's. They's born 'n bred ta live 'n learn." But this guy wasn't really interested in decency or preaching. Apparently Tex was only interesting as long as he was amazed, apparently. Instead, all eyes were on the big oaf now without his stool, and Tex was twistin' around. His hat. His hat was plum gone. The heel of his boot knocked once at the ground as he kicked his steps a bit, grumbling under his breath and rubbing his head. "What the hell. I mean just what the God damn hell... I drink yer hell-liquor and I'm li-bul ta end up placin' bets with the Devil hiiim-self, I tell ya..."
ssssup
lol should I just post?
"You." He said it so easily. The more this feller insulted him, the less likely he was to really take in anything he said. Tex wasn't a bad person. He also wasn't a particularly clever person. He was stubborn and very well conditioned to stand up for everything he did and believed until he was red in the face. Here, it was a strange mix of discomfort and fear and rage and... and something else. The natural human urge to rise up and defend the helpless. And no matter how vile those women had been, they had certainly been helpless against this monster. At last, he turned on his boot heel and to watch the little lady speak. "Uh-huh. A man's gotta survive. It ain't my fault that the world world the way it does. An' if I'm gonna live in it and be happy with myself and my morals, I gotta work for it. Ain't nothin' wrong with workin' an' earnin' yer pay if it lets you survive 'n survive comfortably. People ain't as lonely as all that. They's got family. An' if they don't. they meet new family. But you can't appreciate nobody or nothin'. You's a mighty evil person. Nothin' none of us say's gonna change that. But don't go expectin' nobody ta give a good God damn about you or what you've got ta say. But just-... just tell me. What-... eh..." He couldn't even do it. Why do you do these things. What do you do, exactly? Who are you? HOW do you? And what the fuck happened to your face? Suddenly, Tex was dizzy. In fact, he was more than dizzy. He felt sick. Maybe it was the smoke. More than likely, it was this impossible situation and this impossible place and the fact that he'd just witnessed two murders and he probably wasn't even going to do anything about it. "I gotta sit down..."
- 41 • Page 1 of 3 • 1, 2, 3
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