â IN CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Logan Legend
Characters Age: 39
Faceclaim Choice: Chris Evans
Gender and Pronouns: Male, He/him.
Birthplace: Lakewood, Texas.
Birthday: May 20th, 1979.
Occupation: Bar owner of Bullseye.
Family: The Bodyguard for the Reyes Family.
â BIOGRAPHY
Triggers: spousal death, child death, parental death.
Legends were never created. They were born, bred from fire and metal and raised to be above mere humans. They were destined to a higher power, a greater recognition than what a mere human life. They were gods among men. Legends were meant to be idolized, and if you think back to the ones that had crossed usâit made all the sense. Mythical mentions of Hercules and Achilles were some that would bring brawn over brain. Albert Einstein and Marie Curie, vice versa. They were meant to leave a mark, meant to make you remember them. It was meant to make you think back and go âoh. THEM. Letâs talk about them.â These were the legends that everyone talked about. But no one ever cracked a discussion about Logan Legend, for he was the exact opposite of the definition. Born upon the cusp of a rising power, in the newly dubbed Lakewood, Texas, sat a small family in middle of the boons. Men of soldiers and valiantly, women of honor and pride. This is where the newly dubbed Logan Jordan (something he curses his mother for giving him a ridiculous middle name) Legend was born, on the eve of a crisp summerâs night. The family was ideally set off with their two boys, both proud, popular and confident.. Logan was a good natured child, bit of a trouble maker in school, and an all-around class clown. He thrived off the spotlight, lived for the ideals that everyoneâs eyes couldâand at some points, in his opinion, shouldâbe on him. His parents fed into the idealism as well, keeping their boy prepped and primed for life, providing the home envied by others, and the all-American dream of a good natured family. Hell, he was sure some kids were jealous of him. And if notâheâd make it so.
Now, while in this state, there wasnât much in the way of what could and could not be done. He grew into a staggering six-foot-four man, proud and in his prime. Instead of going off to college as his parents mayâve wantedâbut at the time of his motherâs illness, could not affordâLogan made the decision of a lifetime. Move to Boston, join the US Army, make a name for yourself, and go homeâonly home was far too out of reach for a man like himself. This was a game plan he couldâve stuck too, one that wouldâve helped him in the long run. The war of worlds wasnât something he was interested in, but it provided the sustainability to give back when he pleased, and that was ideal to Logan. For that, a man fresh into his twenties, he went off. Initially, itâd been fairly easy. Something that surprised him, how quickly heâd come to learn the ins and outs of it all. Itâd taken him three years, but heâd finally found himself in the midst of something greater than himself. With the skills of a sniper, Logan found himself within the Green Berets. Wading and wandering, it created a gentleman out of him, one with respect. He took his earnings and returned them to the man and woman who gave their lives for him. But the money did not last long. Sickness was easy, and unavoidable and after his motherâs swift passing, his father sunk into a depressive state, too weak to fight the flu-like symptoms on a cold night, too small to appreciate the will to live. Logan couldnât dump the responsibilities of them onto his little brother, who by far, was the opposite of himself. For that, heâd pack. When heâd sold his familyâs land, belongings, and any namesakes packed into a small box to bring back to the army base in the Northern end of Texas, he knewâLakewood would be empty. It was home, but it was a distant memory. Itâd become a place to recollect, but never linger.
By the time heâd finally lived out his youth, his carefree nature, Logan knew he would need to settle down. He would need to find a woman who could support, live on the Legendâthough the namesake never came with the definition, as heâd been used too, and move on in life. He shouldâve had a wife by now, but his focus had been his job, the Army in which he served, and nothing would change that, regardless. For that, he met Jane. Bright eyed, paled woman, blonde hair. The fiercest blue eyes heâd ever seen. She was docile, sweet, timid. He enjoyed that, more so an alpha male than he wouldâve liked to admit he was, and somehow, she sunk into a second nature. Perhaps thatâs why he settled for her. No questions, no ruffling of feathers. Her parents old and sickly, but she was young, and a nurse to boot, at the base in which he was stationed. In his time, thatâs what mattered, to grow a line of family. Given his nature, given his sense of pride, it made sense, regardless of her own emotions that she give into his proposal. It was a forging of lines, and it didnât seem either were too keen on. Logan wanted excitement in a partner, someone with life. Someone to put him in his place when heâd become nothing more than a jackass at times. Someone vocal. Not someone scared of him, simply for all the work heâd put in as a soldier,. On a sweet summered June day, Logan married Jane, with family and friends all around.
Not that any of it helped. Now, nor then. Loganâs life, while painted well beyond the woes of a man who mightâve been stricken down by his countryâs battleâwas still reflected within the pools of Lakewood. Charlotte. She was this enigma, this motion of light that seemed to draw him in like a poor manâs moth, circling and entranced. He was envious of her lovers, and enthralled when she looked upon him. This was the image of the woman for he saw within his mind. This was the image of the woman to bear his name, take his handâthe ring he shouldâve put on her finger. This was where his woes with Jane stemmed. His nature to recollect in a dream-like state had him calling out for her name, and while he hadnât seen her since his youthâsince he left her to join the armyâit was still there. It was there like the drift of a springâs wind as it tumbled though long grass. It was where his memory settled, and where he found himself drawn to her. Of course, no amount of therapy could console his wife within the first few months of their marriage, forced to sit on a couch and recant the tale of a girl so far gone from his reach, he had been grasping for air. Thatâs all it was, extending his hand into the dark, and expecting one, but there was another. Had he settled for Jane? Surely. Should he try? Well, that was the conclusion theyâd both come too.
Their marriage was lively, for what it was in public. In their home, once Jane moved in with him, was almost dismal. It was tedious. Same routine. Kiss on the cheek when he woke, and the same when he returned from work. Into their marriage, did Logan find it hard to lay with his wife. In a drunken stupor, sure. There was almost never an issue there, should he not have fallen asleep beforehand on her and she left him there in a pile of his own piss. But to consummateâto make the marriage real, in the eyes of religion, constituted a child. After two years of becoming one with another, it happened. Jane was pregnant. Her pregnancy, however celebrated, and brought them closer to create another, came with complications. Having already suffered through her second trimester with painful contractions, bed rest before she was into her thirdâthe pregnancy stopped looking positive. It was not a positive thing, for his wife could barely care for herself, never mind the child. When it came time to give birth, Logan knewâsomething was wrong. His gut screamed nothing could end well for him, for his child and his wife. This was not meant to happen as it was. If there was fate, this was it extending its power. Logan watched his life desecrated, going from being a solider and husband, to a sympathized widower. Jane did not survive the birth, nor did his son. Burying them was sentimental, and even though they struggled, he chose to put them with his parents, a sign of loyalty, allegiance. He carried Janeâs wedding ring with him on a necklace bound with his own. Never sentimental, never emotional. Heâd learned growing that it was best to swallow themâbe a man, his father would encourage. Men never showed true emotions in his family, and Logan never revealed his personal life with Jane to anyone. Not even if they saw the rings to this day hanging loosely around his neck. That was his burden, guilt, to bear until the end of his time.
When he returned to base with the woes of the truth shattered inside of his mind, Logan found himself at an odds. As though the world didnât want to work for him. As though it couldnât. Almost nineteen years since he joined the forces, rising through the ranks. A celebrated marksman, fifteen years of servitude and he found himself discharged. Off to be replaced by a younger, able-bodied person to perform half as well as he ever would. Heâd seen the woes of man on the battlefield. He ranked higher than some would in their dreams for having such sharp aim. He could do itâhe did it all. And when he found himself without the one thing he held ontoâhe was lost. Returning to Lakewood was the only thing Logan had left for him. Abundance of money, of glory from a battlefield now just out of his reach for the rest of his days, the once bright and sprightly man became jaded. Liquor became a good friend, and his mind seemed to only go back to the one thing that worked: aim. Firing the end of a gun off at a target made out of wood calmed the quell in a heart that didnât have any bounds. The further he sunk into his depressive, maniac stateâthe more Logan found himself into the troubles of shadows long gone. When heâd been born within the mayhem of Lakewood, his own father a former Bodyguard for the Stone Cartel (another secret that alluded the elder Legend child)âthe army was the only thing escaping him from himself, and a life on the edge. But hadnât that been what he wanted? Service had provided him the thrill, but when it was gone, all he had left was the daring soul of a man confined.
When his father opened Bullseye almost forty-or-so years ago, it was the only thing he knew he might still be good atâsomething he could possibly succeed if not be it the murder and fatigue that followed him. Attesting it to the only thing he had left that he could call his own, his signature style for weaponry, prestige skillâand love of bikes, caught the eye of the Reyes Cartel. An elite crime family within the walls of his own home, shifting and bending the rules to their own. It was what he enjoyed the most. His bike had become something of a staple, one of the first thing to come back to life in his return. When the months spurn into dedication in years, Logan found himself knee deep within the Cartel business. The way it defined his outlook. He grew from the boy proud to bear arms, to the man, jaded, who knew it all. There was the inkling of a man underneath of what he used to be, subdued with the man he had become in his departure from the front lines. Logan had spent time on the outside once moreâbefore heading right back in. Five years since being discharged, and he earned his moment, his place within the Reyes family. Now, as the Bodyguard within the Reyes Cartel, he uses his tactic of command and skill to keep those beneath him in line, all while upholding the values of a club who had, without ever knowing it, given him purpose once more.
â PERSONALITY SUMMARY
+ Witty, Sarcastic, Loyal - Flirtatious, Guarded, Impulsive
