Difference between revisions of "Carter Logan"

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===Contacts===
 
===Contacts===
  
* [[Michelle Hawthorne]] - It was worth the time.
+
* [[Melissa]] - Embrace the new sound, young miss. And try not to hurt anyone important.
 +
* [[Michelle Hawthorne]] - Worth the time.
 
* [[November]] - More than meets the eye, certainly. Interesting.
 
* [[November]] - More than meets the eye, certainly. Interesting.
 
* [[Nuit]] - I wonder...
 
* [[Nuit]] - I wonder...
* [[Melissa]] - Embrace the new sound, young miss. And try not to hurt anyone important.
+
* [[Velvet]] - Tell them the Devil says hello.
  
 
===Soundtrack===
 
===Soundtrack===

Revision as of 05:45, 14 May 2018



Carter Lysander Logan
Carter1.jpg
On Game As: Carter
Played By: Frank Sinatra
Concept: Jaded Old Devil
Date of Birth: October 2nd, 1902
Apparent Age: 55
Occupation: Musician
Virtue: Charity
Vice: Gluttony

Freehold: Fate's Harvest
Motley: None

Seeming: Fairest
Kith: Incubus Nightsinger
Court: Spring
Entitlement: Bodhisattvas of the Broken Cage
Keeper: The Lady of the Loser's Grief

Court spring.pngSeeming-fairest.pngEntitlement bodhisattvas of the broken cage.png

“Do you truly know how old I am? The days are like water.”
Kill Six Billion Demons

Overview

      More than one hundred years ago, a boy named Carter Lysander Logan was born in the slums of New York City, and he was a musician.

      Nowadays, he's the Devil Himself.

      He's worn a hell of a lot of faces over the years. He's been a lounge singer, a hippie, a soldier, a rock star, a man, a woman, and many other things besides. But under the shifting faces, it's always been Carter, an ancient and powerful Spring Courtier with a knack for tempting others into chasing their desires and an endless hunger for indulging his own. And, as the years have gone on, his connection to the Wyrd has only grown.

      Now, more than a century since he began, Carter is finding that he is running out of vices to indulge. His temptations of others have never ceased, and likely never will, but he himself is finding that the world holds less and less to hold his attention. Every day, he sits in a jaded fog, while every night Arcadia calls to him in his dreams. The power of the Wyrd pulses through his veins, and ignoring it is getting more and more difficult by the moment.

      Now he's heard of a placed called Fort Brunsett, where powerful Lost have begun to congregate. Perhaps there, more than anywhere, there is a chance of something that can actually interest him enough to put off his return to the land of Faerie.

The Mask

Carter Logan is a tall, whip-thin man of imperious look and impeccable dress. He stands, tall and proud, at well over six feet in height, and his head is always lifted slightly back, as though looking down his nose at the world. His perfectly groomed gray hair, sharp blue eyes, and age-lined, thin-lipped face only serve to strengthen the feeling of cold self-assurance. When he does smile, it's small and slight, barely a quirk at the corners of his mouth.

Whatever he wears is always perfectly tailored and obscenely expensive. Most frequent is an array of dark blue three-piece suits, accented with a pocket handkerchief in a deep, bloody red. A silver chain hangs from one pocket, likely attached to some kind of watch. The cufflinks are small, gold, and oddly shaped; a small archway or door, covered by bars, but with those in the center removed.

No amount of tailoring can hide the fact that there is something very wrong with this man's legs, however. They appear twisted, perhaps badly broken at some point in the past, to the point that they bend backwards below the knee. They also don't appear to be easy to walk with; when he moves, it is slow and deliberate, and assisted by a sleek black silver-topped cane that he holds in one hand.

Perhaps the most striking thing about him, though, doesn't become obvious until he speaks. His voice is low, bassy, rolling, like a bottled thunderstorm. He shifts it effortlessly between glassy-smooth and gravel-pit guttural, and it seems to tug at the back of the brain, pulling the listener closer as it fills their ears.

The Mien

The Devil Himself stands before you.

Carter Logan is a tall, whip-thin man of imperious look and impeccable dress. He stands, tall and proud, at well over six feet in height, and his head is always lifted slightly back, as though looking down his nose at the world. His skin is a deep, dark red, like hardened lava, and rather than hair, smoldering embers and wisps of flame crown his head, framed by a pair of pointed black horns. His ink-black eyes and age-lined, thin-lipped face only serve to strengthen the feeling of cold self-assurance. When he does smile, it's small and slight, barely a quirk at the corners of his mouth.

Whatever he wears is always perfectly tailored and obscenely expensive. Most frequent is an array of dark blue three-piece suits, accented with a pocket handkerchief in a deep, bloody red. A silver chain hangs from one pocket, likely attached to some kind of watch. The cufflinks are small, gold, and oddly shaped; a small archway or door, covered by bars, but with those in the center removed.

No amount of tailoring can hide his legs, however. They aren't human. They're digitigrade, and his shoeless feet aren't feet at all - they're a pair of cloven hooves. They don't appear to be easy to walk with; when he moves, it is slow and deliberate, and assisted by a sleek black silver-topped cane that he holds in one hand.

The air around this Satanic vision is filled with strange, enticing smells: expensive cigars, rare liqueurs, a warm breeze after rain. The air around him seems suffused with a strange, unearthly, gold-red glow, and where he steps, a brief flare of leaves springs up from nothing before crumbling away into dust.

Perhaps the most striking thing about him, though, doesn't become obvious until he speaks. His voice is low, bassy, rolling, like a bottled thunderstorm. He shifts it effortlessly between glassy-smooth and gravel-pit guttural, and it seems to tug at the back of the brain, pulling the listener closer as it fills their ears.

RP Hooks

  • Spring Courtier - Carter has been an agent of the Emerald Court for many decades now.
  • Music - Music is the one thing that never bores Carter. Regardless of genre, if you're a musician, he wants to hear it.
  • Sublime - Carter is very nearly one of Them, and it's hard not to see that.
  • Legendary Lounge Singer - Anyone who's a fan of music from the 40s and 50s has probably heard of Carter Logan.
  • Bodhisattva of the Broken Cage - The Spring Court, honed to its finest edge. Perhaps you're in need of a push.
  • Man of Many Faces - Carter has been many things over many years. Perhaps you've met a cloven-hoofed changeling before.
  • The Mind - Carter's grasp on Clarity is holding for the moment, but the call of Arcadia grows stronger by the day.

Relevant Traits

  • Wyrd •••••••••
  • Presence •••••
  • Manipulation •••••
  • Expression (Singing) •••••
  • Mantle (Spring) •••••
  • Sublime ••••• - Mortals cannot attempt to lie to, intimidate, or attack Carter, and must halve their Speed and Initiative scores in his presence. Changelings must succeed on a Resolve + Composure roll in order to attack, lie to, or attempt to intimidate him.
  • Gentrified Bearing ••••
  • Enchanting Performance ••••
  • Fame (Legendary Lounge Singer) ••• - Anyone with any knowledge of music from the 40s and 50s probably knows Carter Logan.
  • Siren Song ••• - That voice is captivating.
  • Striking Looks (Imperious) ••
  • Striking Voice (Hypnotic) ••
  • Flaw: Lame - It's hard to walk with those legs.
  • Flaw: Manifest Mien - It's even harder to hide them.

Contacts

  • Melissa - Embrace the new sound, young miss. And try not to hurt anyone important.
  • Michelle Hawthorne - Worth the time.
  • November - More than meets the eye, certainly. Interesting.
  • Nuit - I wonder...
  • Velvet - Tell them the Devil says hello.

Soundtrack

Sympathy for the Devil - The Rolling Stones

Please allow me to introduce myself
I'm a man of wealth and taste
I've been around for a long, long year
Stole many a man's soul and faith
I stuck around St. Petersburg
When I saw it was a time for a change
Killed the czar and his ministers
Anastasia screamed in vain
I rode a tank
Held a general's rank
When the blitzkrieg raged
And the bodies stank
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name, oh yeah

"Is That All There Is?" - Peggy Lee

And when I was twelve years old, my father took me to a circus.
The greatest show on earth.
There were clowns and elephants and dancing bears
And a beautiful lady in pink tights flew high above our heads.
And so as I sat there watching the marvelous spectacle
I had the feeling that something was missing.
I don't know what, but when it was over
I said to myself
"Is that all there is to a circus?"
Is that all there is? Is that all there is?
If that's all there is, my friends
Then let's keep dancing
Let's break out the booze and have a ball
If that's all there is

The Devil Went Down to Georgia - The Charlie Daniels Band

The Devil went down to Georgia
He was lookin' for a soul to steal
He was in a bind 'cause he was way behind
He was willin' to make a deal
When he came across this young man
Sawin' on a fiddle and playing it hot
And the Devil jumped up on a hickory stump and said
Boy let me tell you what
I guess you didn't know it but I'm a fiddle player too
And if you'd care to take a dare
I'll make a bet with you
Now you play a pretty good fiddle, boy
But give the Devil his due
I bet a fiddle o' gold against your soul
'Cause I think I'm better than you

Tower of Song - Leonard Cohen

Well, my friends are gone and my hair is grey
I ache in the places where I used to play
And I'm crazy for love but I'm not coming on
I'm just paying my rent every day in the Tower of Song
I was born like this, I had no choice
I was born with the gift of a golden voice
And twenty-seven angels from the Great Beyond
They tied me to this table right here in the Tower of Song
So you can stick your little pins in that voodoo doll
I'm very sorry, baby, doesn't look like me at all
I'm standing by the window where the light is strong
Ah, they don't let a woman kill you, not in the Tower of Song

"Too Old to Rock and Roll, Too Young to Die" - Jethro Tull

He once owned a Harley Davidson
And a Triumph Bonneville
Counted his friends in burned out spark plugs
And prays that he always will
But he's the last of the blue-bloods greaser boys
And all his mates are doing time
Married with three kids up by the ring road
Sold their souls straight down the line
And some of them own little sports cars
And meet at the tennis club do's
For drinks on a Sunday, work on Monday
They've thrown away their blue suede shoes

"Nobody Home" - Pink Floyd

I got nicotine stains on my fingers
Got a silver spoon on a chain
Got a grand piano to prop up my mortal remains
I got wide, staring eyes
And I got a strong urge to fly
But I got nowhere to fly to
Ooh, babe
When I pick up the phone
There's still nobody home
Got a pair of Gohills boots
And I got fadin' roots...

Logs

  • (2018.05.23)
Dawn Court - May 2018
  • (2018.06.08)
Entertainment and Power
  • (2018.12.28)
White Cat Comes To Lunch
  • (2019.01.05)
A Game of the Heart
  • (2019.01.08)
Meeting the Watcher-Elect
  • (2019.01.09)
Tragedy & Disgust - The Ball
  • (2019.01.14)
Plotting the Break-Up
  • (2019.02.17)
Eighties Karaoke
  • (2019.03.18)
Zillah's Last Court of Spring 2019
  • (2019.04.27)
FH Dawn Court April 2019
  • (2019.10.05)
Mortal Mavis & The Sumblimes x2
  • (2019.10.06)
Amity Meets the Devil of Spring
  • (2019.11.01)
New Connections
  • (2019.11.04)
Brief Meetings
  • (2019.11.15)
Gift Shopping
  • (2019.11.18)
Love Advice from the Devil & Serpent
  • (2019.12.14)
Gallery Grand Opening
  • (2020.03.27)
The Devil and the Serpent
  • (2020.05.04)
Strip Kitten
  • (2020.09.26)
First Court of Autumn 2020
  • (2021.12.21)
Winter Crowning 2021