Logan -

48, the current face of Montreal Before 10 living life like there's no tomorrow || RP Blog ||

the dame and the dapper | logan & lucia

[loganbaumanarchive-blog]

luciasutherland:

It had been years since the lights of her life had been extinguished from this Earth, and since then Lucia Sutherland had never spent an entire evening alone. Be it in the form of strangers in bed, or a plethora of silhouettes in a gin joint or a speakeasy, the dame vowed never to stray herself of companionship – but at the same time never to be involved with anyone. For this same reason, the would-be heiress both her father and her dead husband’s fortune was sought by the arms of many gentlemen, and some none as gentle; they believed they could change her, make her feel again, make her live and love again.

Oh, how wrong they were.

The dark seed of despair in her heart had grown and spread inside her like an unheeding vine, covering her entire figure until she no longer bore a resemblance to the woman she once was. All those who aspired to transform her carried a fool’s errand – such was the reason why Lucia was grateful for the company of Logan Bauman. Theirs was an unusual relationship forged from the taints of their respective lives, with either party making no move to conceal their amoral tendencies. It was the closest thing to honest Lucia could get. “It looks divine,” Lucia replied, voice sultry as she leaned closer towards Logan’s ear and whispered, “And I’m glad to be here with you tonight.” The admission remained too sanguine to be completely sincere, but it held a grain of truth. She took the glass, letting her thumb lightly chafe the back of his hand and letting it linger there a moment too long. “Logan, please. You and I both know we’ve crossed first-name territory a long, long time ago.” The remark was delivered with a slow drawl, crimson lips contorting into that of a sly grin. “A toast for luck.” She repeated, clinking her glass to his, praying to some god the man did not notice the beet red forming on her cheeks. I’m thirty-eight, goddamnit. Though I can always blame it on the drink.

As Lucia leaned closer to his ear, a shiver of pure enlightment traveled down along his spine and to his knees; but he was more than careful not to crush the small tension of lust that had come to build up around them, saving it for a time when prying eyes wouldn’t be a matter. Not that he was shy about showing Lucia off, oh no, far from it, he wanted everyone to see this gem of a woman -- a sheba in it’s finest form -- but as much as he wished to share, he also wished to keep her to himself. It was a rare instance for someone like him, to hold onto another woman and not view her as just another that would come to pass by, but as someone he was near ready to beg to stay. 

“I am glad to be of assistance, Lucia”, he forwarded her previous remark. “And though we are, I still prefer to treat you with the class you deserve. I wouldn’t suspect the many to know much besides how to bark and wait for a treat. Those who come for you are equally as easily to lure in for my ladies.” A smirk tainted his lips, clinging his glass to her’s as the toast left the comfort of Lucia’s mouth as to hex the air around them. Luck, what a made-up concept. “Surely, my lady, even if I already consider myself lucky to have entered with one of the finest looking dames America has to offer. Oh if you don’t make me fel like twenty again!” This time a laugh entwined with his words, mirroring a softer side of himself not many dared to reach for, but Lucia’s charm had him struck and he was itching for more. “What should we entertain ourselves with first? A dance? A tour?”

[loganbaumanarchive-blog]

asherprescott:

“Enjoy is a too generous of a word to be describing my situation, sir.” she answered. “I’m observing than most, we can say that.” she added with a light laugh. In her household with her husband, she stayed at home, as a housewife – something she was content with. Being around civilisation wasn’t something she was used too but didn’t want to make it too obvious. “What about you? How are you enjoying the night so far?”

“Observing?” he inquired, holding back a scoff. Who in their right mind would waste their time observing? Look over, plant a move... surely, but unless she held a plan to her ways he doubts she would get much out of it. “I can already tell you what type of people you are about to meet or already have met, doll. Deep down they’re all the same, all waiting for the same reward by the end of the night. That’s what parties are for. Don’t you want something more rewarding out of yours?” There had to be something more to it. “I quite fancy my evening thus far, thank you, a change of pace from my usual life style. Not money-wise but company-wise.”

[loganbaumanarchive-blog]

the dame and the dapper | logan & lucia

@luciasutherland

Although Logan Bauman was man of wealth and power, rarely did he find it in himself to enlighten parties set up by strangers with his presence. With an establishment such as the Playhouse you had to be careful, offer only enough of oneself to keep people gossiping behind the back and spread rumors of their own that would travel across mouths and towns. Louis was roaming around the mansion on his own accord, and much like Logan himself they were keeping an eye on their employees as much as keeping an eye on their company for the evening -- or at least he was. 

The dame hovering around his arm in the finest of silk was no other than Lucia Sutherland, a woman that looked like fine wine tasted. Delicate, elegant and well worth getting a taste of. Her soul was tender, but dark, and burning with such a fire men were waiting in line to tame -- but not him. Oh no, he loved it. Asking her of all to escort him to this Halloween party had been a bold move on his part, knowing fully well the lady wasn’t the type you chained down to one man, but the effort had been one worth its time and the answer was one that filled him with enough pride to get him through the evening alone. “I have to say I’m quite impressed by it all -- ritzy. The man sure knows how to put his rubes into good use.” Logan waved a waiter closer to them holding the evening’s drinks on top of a tray, soon to hold over Lucia’s glass her way before taking one of his own. “A taste, shall we? To bring some luck to our evening, yes?” His lips formed a most sincere smile hold up the glass her way. “And not to mention: to such wonderful company as yourself Miss Sutherland. I am truly a lucky man tonight.”

[loganbaumanarchive-blog]

almadavenport:

Alma felt like she was on top of the world. The showgirl never thought she’d get this far in life; moseying her way up into the limelight befriending rich elites, who’d invite her to their exquisite parties. Having already gone to the home of Babe Ruth, even sat next to director Josef von Sternberg at the Astor Room the night of the restaurant’s opening. That being said, she never turned down a party and this was nothing short of delightful. 

Resting down her champagne, she looked up at the party-goer with a softened smile. “Me? Oh no, honey, no show from me tonight.” 

Quite frankly, this’d be the after party for the Minsky’s girl. “The kinda show I put on ain’t very suitable for this kind of joint, no sir-ee. I must say though, I’m certainly in need of a dancing partner..” Her eyes twinkled. “Have you got the chutzpah for it?” 

The woman that had come to land within his viewing field was one he had seen plenty of times before -- never spoken to, mind you, his mind had traced elsewhere during those shows -- but never had he expected to see her here of all places. Alma Davenport went beyond what his own establishment stood for, a prime pearl in a sea of foam if one would say so themselves. 

“Quite a shame, you really know how to entertain your audience Miss Davenport. But I would say it is most likely for the best, as the many wives walking around might want to take their husbands home by the end of evening.” A dance? The thought was tempting to say the least. “For a doll like yourself? Of course.”

[loganbaumanarchive-blog]

edmeefadxms:

Finishing off the rest of her glass, Edmée decided to brave going back inside. As she started to peel herself away from the rail, she heard a ‘rrriippp’ as the hem of her dress began to tear away underneath her heel. Bending down to the floor, she tried to fix the dilemma, her clumsy fingers fiddling with the material. She was still a little dizzy from the toasts and the dancing. Hearing the “click-clack” of shoes on the deck and feeling the warm, heady glow of lamplight along her back, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief before turning toward the guest. “I’m a little stuck. Could you help a doll out?” She teased, jerking her head toward the tearing hem of her dress and quirking her eyebrows with a smile. “I’ll save you a dance if you set me free”.

Logan’s face lit up at the sight of his employee, making himself ready to approach her while the two had a free spot to talk when she seemed to put up something close to a show of a damsel in distress. Logan stod idle, waiting for whatever man would be foolish enough to step in her way and throw his own senses out of the window for an hour with her. Not until the chit-chat had passed by did Logan move forward, offering his hand for her to take. “New trick or were you just lucky, sweetheart? Care to spare me a dance as well? I promise I won’t keep you for long.”

[loganbaumanarchive-blog]

asherprescott:

Asher, as per usual, was lost in her own little world. For starters, the girl wasn’t feeling well and being at a party filled with people she didn’t know wasn’t something to look forward to – but alas, here she was. “– Sorry,” Asher smiled apologetically and snapped out of her day-dream after realising that someone had been trying to speak to her. “What were you saying?”

This party was one of many things Logan Bauman lived for. The class, the style, the many women he could lay eyes upon and the many men he could invite to his brothel by next morning in case they went unlucky tonight. However, as much as he wanted to bite his teeth into someone who looked interesting enough for his taste, he had to remember that he had come here with someone -- so when he crossed path with a young Jane, all he had to offer was a simple question. “I said: are you enjoying yourself, Madam?”

[obl-wan-kenobl-deactivated20201]

It must be hard to shake the whole double agent thing, huh?

[loganbaumanarchive-blog]

the playhouse;

Character’s Involvement With The Alleged Witches, If Any:

Logan is fairly active among the witches, sly as he is he often uses the naive ones for his own self gain in exchange of refuge and hidden identities. This makes the brothel he owns something of a magical place to be, even if he has to hide the fact from his normal workers. 

Character’s New Personality and Backstory:

Logan grew up in the poorer neighborhoods of Brooklyn, NY to a father scrapping the barrel and a mother selling herself short in an attempt to fill her children’s hungry bellies. The father came to leave the mother when Logan was merely eleven years old, marrying himself into a much more stable economy and only doing as much as sending them a few dimes now and then to better his self image. Logan grew independent quite quickly, developing skills he would use around town to entertain people and win over a few hearts, but rather than share his profits with the rest of the family he kept it to himself and saved up for something much bigger. 

He came to leave his family behind at the age of twenty, traveling around America and became something of an entertainer where he sang and put on shows on bars and carnivals. And that was when he came to meet his first witch. Being mildy amused by the man she tried to lure him in for her own selfish gains, but Logan was far faster and and managed to flip the situation around to his own benefit. The witch and him teamed up for the next three years of their life before she escaped and leaving Logan with twice the riches. Taking the loss harshly, Logan traveled back home to New York where he eventually came to meet his current business partner Louis Abrams. The two put their heads together, both swallowed by greed and lust, and not before long did New York own another brothel named ‘The Playhouse’. 

Logan has grown quite the nose for sniffing up witches, and have used a bunch of them to remove costumers from neighborhood brothels, even going as far as cursing owners until they are forced to close down. He uses it wisey, knowing the dangers of getting caught, but it’s always just a matter of time before someone decide to betray him.

Possible Connections:

Prostitutes (2/4)

Business witches (0/3) 

Costumers (1/whatever) 

Escort (1/1) 

[loganbaumanarchive-blog]

veronicatremblay:

Montreal’s Own | @loganbauman

Veronica’s management decided for the time being that since she was back in Montreal after nearly a decade, they’d set her up for a morning interview at Montreal Before 10. She wasn’t crazy about it; in fact she didn’t want to talk to anyone after the tour had finished, but she during it’s run she had to cancel a lot of the shows due to the recent incidents revolving around Jet and her band. Today she’d  try to make the best out of it and talk a bit about the rescheduled dates. 

She sat in the makeup chair relaxed and ready for the rest of her day after having moved into her brand new home, mimosa in hand as she looked over at the TV in the room with the show on. They had went from sports straight to the weather segment, neither of which sparked her interest much. 

It was then she got a knock on the door, turning her head as she sat up in her seat. “Come in!”

Another day, another show. It had worked the same for over three years now and it wasn’t about to change today. His own mornings were spent rehearsing the questions queued up on the cards, making sure he could keep his focus on their guests all around the room and not just the ones sharing the couch. Presence was the most important aspect of any show, and if you didn’t sit on the power to connect with the people that came to view you -- why even try? 

Today’s guest was some musician named Veronica Tremblay and Logan had done a quick search on her name, just like with everyone, to stack up on his facts in case the woman would stumble. Nervous ticks and laughs was no surprise to him and he liked to arrive prepared in case a reminder was in place; but then again, reading about someone was never quite the same as meeting them and thus, once he was all set and done with his own make-up team, did he knock on Veronica’s dressing room. 

“Good afternoon, I thought I should introduce myself before we enter the stage -- far warmer and less stiff that way. Logan Bauman, the host.” Although his smile was everything but geniune, Logan wasn’t stupid enough not to add one at the end of his introduction as he walked forward and extended his hand her way. He had yet to find a reason to be impressed by the... woman, young and possibly bratty, believing she was out to be the next big thing on everyone’s lips. He had seen it all before.

[loganbaumanarchive-blog]

☁ = being caught in the middle of a storm with them (random but love me anyway :P)

☁ = being caught in the middle of a storm with them:

Lucia Sutherland was a curse as much as she was a blessing and Logan had come to grow quite fond of this new neighbor of his, owning the apartment just down below. Their meetings were often short, but hardly ever far between; they left around a simliar time in the morning, sometimes Logan was off before she was, but by then their paths had the magical possibility of letting them meeting up in the middle of Lasalle during lunch, or while running between places and people -- so when Lucia came to walk out a boutique the same second Logan rounded the corner on his way home, neither of them seemed baffled by one or the other sharing a wave the other’s way. “Lovely weather we have today, isn’t it?” Logan sparked as he approached Lucia, voice reeking of sarcasm upon staring at the clouds above that pointed at anything but sunshine and picnics in the park. God, he despised autumn for this one main reason, finding it near to impossible to keep his suit free of wrinkles and his hair in place when the sky cried over the city like a child who had just dropped their ice cream cone on the ground. “Are you perhaps on your way home?” he inqured shortly after, and a nod came to sooth his curious mind. “Wonderful, how about we walk together? It definitely beats being caught up in thought, doesn’t it?” Flashing a smile her way, the two set course not long after, their voices trailing off towards the topic of work and the people they had to face during the day. 

That was when the thunder hit. Glaring up against the murky sky, Logan winced at the idea of being unable to reach home before it started pouring down -- and knowing these streets they still held another fifteen minutes on the clock if they walked fast, and barely did the first drops have a proper chance to hit the pavement before Lucia grabbed his arm and pointed across the street against a small shop. Their feet traveled with light’s speed, Logan ripping the door open just as the clouds opened up for them and began to take over the view outside -- his chest rising and lowering in relief. Glancing over at Lucia again, his lips twitched over to a smile once more, knowing fully well this was the type of company he loved to be stuck with. // @luciasutherland 

[loganbaumanarchive-blog]

tatia-the-ice-queen:

Tatia moved one of her stiletto clad feet to rest more on the toe, giving her a more relaxed appearance, despite her never really being relaxed. The person she was meant that she never could. “Hmm I’ll take that as a compliment because I certainly don’t look like the average all american girl,” she responded, a devilish smirk still evident on her face, even after his suggestion. “No thank you, if I wanted a cab I would have paid for one myself,” she shook off the man’s offer, at least to begin with anyway, she was never one to just take up offers from people, especially ones who seemed to be suspicious of her. 

“Definitely not, American women tend to have a different type of spark to them -- they don’t go hand in hand with the Candian ones either, I have to say.” Logan was a frequent traveler, it came with his job and his status, but there was the possibility the woman in front of him had grown up outside Canada and thus wouldn’t be familiar with his name. “Of course you would have, but no one tend to deny an open offer. Let me introduce myself: Logan Bauman, tv host and a Montreal legend. I don’t fancy when my name ends up in the paper for all the wrong reasons, so see it as nothing but a suggestion in case you feel unsafe on these streets.”

[loganbaumanarchive-blog]

almadavenport:

“So come by and let’s do a taste test, huh? That way you can figure out which taste we wouldn’t forget.” Alma duly noted, lounging back a bit more on the couch, covering her mouth in a yawn. She was kind of tired, it was a nonstop day for the head honcho, however she welcomed busy days. And of course, she didn’t mind taking a break out of her day to visit someone she cherished. You’d be the second person that’s been named after a drink on my menu, right alongside my father.” Pat’s Ale, a ginger ale shandy drink with a salted rim, was a light beverage favorite of those who ordered a drink from the bar. Ben insisted he’d have a drink next titled ‘The Bolt Holt’, pushing it for a while now. Alma made him mad for at least a week when she explained that it was a lot more special than that. Logan in his own right was a Montreal legend, Alma wouldn’t flat out say that though. She didn’t mind complimenting but she didn’t want to spike the ego high that much. 

“How’s work going for you anyway, Logan? Same old, living the dream?” She inquisitive, maybe prying to see what else was going on in his life beyond his career. Not to be nosy, just to know where he was at for the rest of the year.

A taste test? It didn’t sound too bad in his book, something to keep them occupied for a few hours as they worked themselves through the menu. There was no understatement in the pride that shot through his body at the thought and the news, something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time when it came to himself. Of course he always took pride in himself and the things that he accomplished daily -- but this was simply... another type of feeling. Of recognition, perhaps one should call it? That he had lacked not only from the people he worked with, but from the town he lived in and the country he had once kept company during the cold and lonely winters or dreadful, rainy summer days. It wasn’t often his head was stuck with something close to gratefulness, not toward others, but Alma was a pearl in all its rare glory. “That sounds like a lovely idea if you ask me. I should be able to leave after a short chat with my manager, I need to see whom I’m up against tomorrow and then we can head off to something far more entertaining. I believe the man’s on lunch as well so we might have to hold on for another ten minutes.” 

Work? What could he say about that? He was far from living the dream, but people liked to constantly tell him he was supposed to be thankful for what he had and settle with it. A job was a job, but he wasn’t going to stop smiling at the idea of moving up until he at last sat on a show carrying his name on it again. “What can I say? It’s never the same, one of the positive aspects of having a talk show -- but I always like to believe we can do better. I know the channel is still new, but that doesn’t mean we have to stick with the same formula. They have booked me in for the Thanksgiving special in October however, which is going to be something else.”

[loganbaumanarchive-blog]

young blood | mav & logan

@maverick-braeden

Birthdays. His birthday, as a matter of fact. A day dedicated to him, to celebrate his existence and glorify one’s survival for yet another year. How come he didn’t stand them? As much as Logan wanted nothing but to offer sincere smiles to his guests constantly waving for his attention around the room, his mouth was filled with nothing but a sour and rotten taste -- traveling from his guts and up. Fourty-eight. It flashes in front of his eyes no matter where he looked, and even when he turned to face a corner of the room, someone was quick to remind him with the help of a pat on his back and a laugh to follow. Who in their right mind would take aging with such glee? It was disgusting to watch yourself fall apart; your body change, the hair to grow whiter and your bones ache in ways they shouldn’t. He was in dire need of distraction and that one came in the form of Maverick Braeden. Young lad that one, apparently married now too if he had heard him right a couple of week ago. What a fool. But much like Alma he knew how to turn his attention elsewhere. “Enjoying yourself?” Logan stopped right next to Mav, raising an eyebrow as he held on for an answer. “If something is of disliking please note I wasn’t the one who planned this thing. Why would I?”

[loganbaumanarchive-blog]

hadleybouchard:

Rolling her eyes as she let out a laugh, the brunette shook her head. “Don’t make me come over there and hug you, there’s plenty of water to go around.” She pointed at him with a playful glare before shaking her head once more and ringing out the water in her shirt. “Glad I could give you a heads up, though.”

“Not for my jacket, missy -- I’d rather skip having to make another appointment with my dry cleaners already. They never deliver anything on time, I need to hire a new firm.” So this meant he had to nail himself to entrance of the mall until it stopped, how wonderful. “Care to warm up? There’s coffee to go right over there.” As much as he liked to hold onto his money he figured it was better than standing alone.

[loganbaumanarchive-blog]

lyla-tragicrose:

“It’s all earned, so there’s really no difference for me.” she shrugged and then leaned in to listen. She processed the information for a few seconds, weighing the words. “So, just a friendly way?” she asked in a serious tone, switching from her usual carefree persona into a professional one. “Because I need more details in order to consider changing up the whole schedule I’ve done already that is filled with business meetings, in the most part. And I agree she might not accept.” she slowly laid her first thoughts out then corrected herself. “Will not.” 

So it was all earned, but not all of it came from Minerva Walden? Was she working on the side? “In a friendly way, yes. She’s far too young for my taste, if you feel the need to be reassured.” Rarely did he set his eyes on anyone under the age of thirty, they didn’t have the same spiece to them -- too fresh off the market. “It’s quite easy, dear Lyla. I want her to have a weekend off, it’s no more nor less than that. She and I will travel to New York on a Friday, go see the show I have tickets for on Saturday and then she will be free to roam around as she wishes, though I feel as if I should guide her around or else she may dig for her papers as soon as I happen to look away.” 

[loganbaumanarchive-blog]

an afternoon flirt | ed & logan

@edmeefadxms

With summer coming to an end and autumn taking over, it was all about enjoying the last strays of vitamins the sun could provide his skin. Any other person carrying his status would have walked across the streets with their heads hanging low, sunglasses big enough to cover everything they stood for unless they decided to hide inside a car -- but Logan wasn’t the type. Watching people turn their heads after him, mumbling something into their phones or to one another, sometimes even brave enough to turn around and catch to him in the hopes of scoring an autograph of sorts... that was what he lived for. Now more than ever. Having recently turned forty-eight, the man was in dire need of something that could keep him up and running, a swift reminder he still stood on former grounds with himself and not hanging by the thread of turning into his old and fragile father. And that came with the sight of a young brunette with her nose far down inside a book resting between the palms of her hands as her soft, mellow features lined up against the park like a thoughtout painting of some unknown girl you would often find hanging inside a museum, forcing people to ask ‘who?’ without ever gaining an answer. It was a presence that spoke to him, and one he wanted to get to know better. “Oh hello there”, Logan spoke up with a smile, making himself known to the woman. “May I sit? I just need to rest for a bit, and the park has such a lovely view from here.”

[cosmokramers-deactivated2018091]

When Joe pulls his hand out of the mouth, it appears to be missing, causing Anya to scream. He then pops his hand out of his sleeve and laughs. Hepburn’s shriek was not acting— Peck decided to pull a gag he had once seen Red Skelton do, and did not tell his co-star beforehand.

[fakelappyhandfill-deactivated20]

@loganbauman