I don't even know where home is.

"I've been running my whole life. My whole life." Logan Hessler, 24. Orphan. CIA Agent in training. _________ (Mature content warning: violence, murder, sexual content) RP, original character. Of legal age - no tolerance for drama.

[idkduknw]

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[safechick]

Safe Without | Interpol

"I’ll be ok, I’ve got my shapes."

[safechick]

Being alone isn't hard. Travelling alone isn't hard. Falling into comforts and habits that occupy one's mind isn't hard. The only thing that's hard is finding any comfort when all familiarity has been ripped from your grasp – like hanging onto a door frame while an attacker pulls at your legs. Eventually, he's going to win because you're enfeebled, you're small and he isn't.

Subsequently, there's the bounce-back. The rebound that give substance to the internal strength and fixity of purpose, albeit fails miserably in conveying any sort of happiness. Resigning yourself to walk to the market due to your motor being broken, waking up every morning after the death of a family member – doing it because there's simply no other option. Living in the UK because she'd been sniffed out in New York, there was simply no other option. She was doing her damnedest to make the best of it.

Logan opened the door, slipping inside no louder than a speck of dust being brought in by the breeze. The gym was occupied by people – young ones with lean muscle, older ones with too much muscle, elderly ones keeping their physique because the doctor had ordered them to do so. She didn't know them, and wouldn't know them by the end of the day. The people were friendlier than the clubs in New York, but Logan wasn't. 

Scurrying to the back, she pulled the shirt over her head before she'd even spotted a vacant locker. Pulling her hair up into a tight pony, she smashed the shirt into the small opening of the bag with her finger like a magician tucking a scarf into his hand. She tossed the tattered duffel bag back into the compartment, didn't bother securing it  – what were they going to snatch? A shirt, some Cherry-flavoured lip balm and a ratty old address book? Cool, yea. Have fun. Clad in her track pants and sports bra, Logan marched purposefully out into the gym.

Bag? No. Treadmill. Maybe. Treadmill, then bag. Too much cardio. Shit. Bag. In mid-step, Logan pivoted herself round and made a dash for the remaining punching bag. She wiggled the earbuds in, spun her finger around the volume dial, and threw her fist into the vinyl. Again, and again.

[safechick]

Shit, you know... it's really lonely. Being lonely sucks. That's one of the worst feelings in the world, and so many people experience it.

[stewcharm]

[endlesslykristen]

[transphobies-deactivated2016022]

[dailystews-deleted]

[melindasordinos]

New clip from Clouds of Sils Maria [x]

[safechick]

Truth ... Wots the one fing I do that yew hate most?

I hate that you lie to yourself. And I hate that you disappear for fucking weeks on end. That sucks.

[lunaconrad-deactivated20131216]

TRUTH SERUM - MY MUSE HAS TO ANSWER ANY AND ALL QUESTION REGARDLESS OF WHAT IT IS.

[safechick]

Please preface questions with “Truth”

[infinitekristens]

[rpprompts]

my muse has been drugged and won't remember anything that happens for the next 30 minutes. what does your muse do/say?

[yellyhaim]

+

[shivaandlulu]

[ohstewarts]

[kristensource]

[safechick]

'are those sirens?'

Logan ran so quickly up to Freddie’s door that she nearly collapsed into it, fumbling at the handle. Whether it was Jackie’s negligence or Freddie’s, their door was almost always unlocked. 

She found Freddie at the counter, nursing a glass of something. She closed the door behind her, pressing her palms flat against the wood. ‘Fuck, I am… I am so sorry.’ For the first few minutes, she couldn’t speak. She’d run the entire way to his house, and lost track of the distance or the speed at which she travelled. 

'Sh-shit. I'm sorry… I just… I dunno. Something went down outside Dexy's. They said something about some name I didn't know, but I don't…' Logan paused, hands on her knees as she panted. 'I don't think that was what it was about. People were shooting. Someone tried to punch me, so I broke his nose and someone called the cops… they came. I ran, they don't… I don't think they saw me. I'm sorry. I can… can leave. I just didn't know where to go.' 

[everreadyfreddie]

Luck visited often to Freddie’s and this time delivered what could have been his demise from an enemy. Instead it was Logan, frantic about some situation he obviously hadn’t been involved in. And when that was the case, little to no rise could be pinched out of him. Half pissed, Freddie rolled his head and then slowly floated his gaze up to meet with hers. The skin under his eyes looked like they were being pulled by something heavy. 

There was snot collecting below his nostrils, which had mixed with aged coke and created a small dam. He was sluggish at first, but when the thought of Jackie coming around the corner manifested, he quickly sobered and sprung out of the kitchen. ‘Ow did yew facking get in ere!’ he shouted in a whisper as he flew at her and rashly ushered them to the bedroom behind. When the door shut, he turned and immediately got in her face. ‘Are yew facking MAD?!’, he sprayed through visible teeth. His anger was apparent and it showed vividly on his reddened neck. Veins were raised and looked like winding vines. ‘Yew couldn ring me!’

[safechick]

A thick, straight brow raised on her forehead. Freddie looked like he hadn't even heard her and just when she was about to repeat herself, his attention snapped back like a rubber band. Logan reeled away from him, remembering his steely grip and the sharpness that his rings brought to it. 'The-the front door was open! Jesus, Freddie… don't fucking p-push me…'

Against her will, which was typical with Freddie, Logan was herded into a nearby bedroom. Whose bedroom, she had no idea. She crossed her arms over her chest, which had finally stopped heaving from the laboured breaths. When she turned back around, Freddie was rushing her towards her like a freight train, screaming at her. 'I was scared! What the hell did you want me to do? Ask him? Oh yea, right! How the fuck I was supposed to do that? I'll just ask the guy who I just socked in the face,' Her head bobbed along to her words, emphasising her point. 'Hey, yea you. Can I use your phone to call someone? Oh hey, whoops, you've got some fucking blood on it! Let me get that for you!' Don't be so stupid, Freddie!'

She ducked underneath his arm, lacing her fingers through her hair as she neared the door. 'Fuck, you know… just take me home then. Can you do that? Can you take your stupid niece home?' His neck was red, and she suspected that if she had reached out, it would be hot to the touch. 'You know what, forget it, okay? I'll fucking… I'll walk home.'