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Age: 23
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Logan Slade

Victor

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Nov 1 2015, 12:24 PM
[dohtml]<center><img src="http://i.imgur.com/OqeZIZW.jpg">
<div style="width:450px;"><div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; text-transform:lowercase; font-size:28px; letter-spacing:-3.2px; line-height:80%; color:#463138;">and you smiled like an angel---</div><div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; text-transform:uppercase; font-size:12px; letter-spacing:4px; line-height:85%; word-spacing:3px; color:#a87d59; ">fallen from grace </div><p>
Social events were not a new thing for Logan. In her years since winning the games, it had become a regular occurrence for her to be in the public eye at events like this. Her stylist team was her only constant companion, and they made sure she was constantly looking perfect. She was not sure exactly what this event was for, but she was told to dress to impress and be her charming self.<p>
Her womanly figure was wrapped in a red dress with an open back to show off a long expanse of delicate, creamy skin, all of her scars from the arena gone with incredible modern cosmetics. She stood in a corner among a group of the Capitol's elite, most of which were men looking far too closely at the exposed parts of her cleavage. She had a glass of some bubbly alcohol in her hand, and sipped on it between good natured laughs. This was what her life had become.<p>
She took another sip of her drink as Xavier, one of her handlers, appeared at her side, touching her shoulder gentle to gain her ear. She tilted her head towards him, listening as he pointed across the room to a gentleman with long dark hair, telling her hewas the head gamekeeper and she was to make his "acquaintance". She nodded, taking another sip of her drink before making her way across the room.<p>
She moved like water, fluid and graceful until she appeared at Black's side, smiling politely, and perhaps a bit flirtatiously. "Would you like to play a game, Gamekeeper?"
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<div style="font-family:georgia; text-transform:uppercase; font-size:9px; line-height:91%; color:48484b;padding-top:1px; padding-bottom:3px;"><b>tag:</b> alucard black | <b>notes:</b> none | <b>outfit:</b> <a href="http://www.polyvore.com/fallen_from_grace/set?id=161704713">here</a> | <b>credits:</b> template made by nicole.</div></center>
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Oct 31 2015, 08:50 AM
[dohtml]<link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Open+Sans+Condensed:300' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Six+Caps' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><style type="text/css">.megad { border:1px #888888 dotted; position:relative; top: 180px;background-color: fff; height: 55px; width: 240px; overflow: hidden; -moz-transition: 1s ease-in-out all; -webkit-transition: 1s ease-in-out all; padding: 10px; color: #000; text-align: justify; font-size: 9px; line-height: 10px; font-family: arial; }.megad:hover { overflow: none; height: 338px; top: 50; background-color: fff; }</style><center>

<div style="background-color: fafafa; border:15px #000 solid; width: 350px; height:450px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/GYmzh56.jpg);">

<div class="megad"><div style="font-family: six caps; font-size: 42px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; line-height:100%; color: 888888; font-weight: lighter; letter-spacing:3px; margin-top:0px;"> logan slade </div>
<a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showtopic=14775"><div style="margin-bottom:10px; text-align: center; font-family: open sans condensed; font-weight: lighter; font-size:13px; text-transform: uppercase; color: ababab; line-height: 100%;"> TWENTY-THREE| VICTOR OF THE 67TH HUNGER GAMES | DISTRICT 5 </div></a>



<a href="http://redsky.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=11"><div style="height:9x; background-color: #000000; font-size: 0px; color:#000;">hi</div></a><a href="http://z10.invisionfree.com/A_THOUSAND_FIREFLIES/index.php?showuser=3819"><div style="font-size:0px; color:#000; height:1x; background-color: #000000;">hi</div></a><div style="background-color: fff; border: #ababab 1px solid; padding:10px;"> <div style="font-family: tahoma; font-size:10px; line-height:100%; height:230px; overflow: auto; padding-right:5px; text-align: justify; color:888888; columns:75px 3; -webkit-columns:75px 3; -moz-columns:75px 3;">

okay, so here's logan slade, originally from district five and victor of the sixty-seventh hunger games. she's twenty-three years old, and is just now becoming a mentor. for the past five years she has been forced into "service" by the president to entertain the elite of panem. she is commonly referred to as the viper of district five for her tact in the arena, acting defenseless and then showing her true colors at the last minute.<p>

first thing is some <b>friends</b>. to be honest, logan probably doesn't have many of these that are real friends. she's a bizarre character, prone to drink in excess and recluse herself as much as possible. when she is around people, she has a very crass sense of humor and often is very blunt and rather rude. however, when she is practicing her "profession", she is what she needs to be for the situation. as such, i would imagine she probably has plenty of people that think she's their friend, when she really is not. however, everyone needs at least one real friend, and logan is no exception. i won't be picky as to who this person is, but they have to have a personality that will mesh with hers.<p>

second thing is some <b>enemies</b>. there are probably a lot more of these than there are friends. logan is, genuinely, not a likable person. so i'm sure there are plenty of people that don't like her. also, with her profession, i'm sure there's probably plenty of spouses to her clientele that don't care for her either. <P>

and last are the <b>lovers.</b> with her profession, there are a lot of these, but never on her own terms. these will be the wealthy elite of the capitol and panem. often men that president snow has set her up with. these can be one time affairs or repeat clients, but there's lot of room to work with here.




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Oct 28 2015, 02:14 PM
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logan amelia slade

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<center>✘ 23 ✘ district five ✘ emmy rossum ✘ <p><P>

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</font><b>. E . N . V . Y .</b><p>

“Momma! Momma!” Tears were streaming down her face as she pushed open the door to their small little home. Her face was dirty, her lip bloodied, and her eyes swollen from crying. Her mother, who had been in the kitchen, moving into the main room of the small house, and gasped upon seeing her little girl. “Logan! What happened?” <p>

As the duo waited for the water to boil, Logan managed to hysterically gasp out words, pushing away the thick curls that were sticking to her wet face. “Patrick called me ugly!” She wailed. “He said I was ugly and dumb so punched him. And he hit me back!”<p>

In truth, Logan was not a pretty child. She had a small round face, with these large eyes that made her look like she was constantly startled, a deer in the headlights. She was small, and rather plain, and while the other girls looked so pretty, Logan looked more like one of the boys. And she always had.<p>

Her mother though, she was beautiful, And Logan envied her mother’s beautiful face as the dipped the rag that had been heated in the boiling water to the cut on her lip. The little girl whined like a kicked puppy, squirming away from the gentle but probing fingers. But her mother’s hands held her in plae as she cleaned the few cuts and bruises on her little girl before she took her tiny little face in her hands and leaned in to whisper to her, as if in confidence.<p>

“The other girls may be pretty, Logan, but you are so much smarter than they are." Her mother’s hands were soft as the brushed the thick curls back out of her face. "And intelligence will save you where prettiness will get you killed.”<p>

The little girl sniffled and nodded, rubbing her dirty nose with the back of her hand, and mother smiled. “Come, let’s get you in a bath.”<p>


<b>. W . R . A . T . H .</b><p>

She had seen the look on his face, that pleading for peace as she reached for her sword. He had gone for her own meager dagger that would be no match for the long sword she had gained throughout competition. But the icy bitter cold of the Arctic tundra she had been surviving in caused the steel blade to stick in his dagger. “The frost.” she purred in a voice that did not sound like her own. “Sometimes it makes the blade stick.”<p>

“Logan…please…” But she had felt nothing, not even as she drove the point of the blade into his throat, heard bones crunch, and blood gushed forward over her face and down her front. It had been warm on her skin, the first warmth she had felt in what seemed like an eternity.<p>

His blood was drying on the front of her clothing and she looked down at it, watching it go from a bright, vibrant red to a muted brown as the air took it’s toll on his life’s blood. She knew she should be crying….screaming even, but she felt…nothing…..there was nothing left in her to feel. Nothing but an abysmal emptiness.<p>

<i>“May I introduce the victor of the 67th annual Hunger Games!”</i><p>

Above her, the sky rumbled as the hover plane came from seemingly nowhere and picked up the body of her last competitor, and he was from home….it had come to the two of them, and she had slaughtered him first chance she got. Good God, what had these games turned her into?<p>

She had been lifted from the arena shortly after they had taken Roger out of it. She had been brought back to the Capitol, and cleaned up. To be fair, she was no worse for wear. Thin, certainly, but she was used to being thin. Dirty, certainly, she had not had a good bath in weeks, after all. But a few days of primping and, on the outside, she looked just as pretty as she had during those first grueling interviews. But on the inside, she was not the same…. she never would be the same.<p>


<b>. G . R . E . E. D .</b><p>

Certainly it was the nicest house that Logan had ever been in her in her life. It was a far cry from the small log cabin that she had grown up in to say the least. With the windows open, the breeze through the trees brought the smell of fresh pine into the house.Her mother had come to glance at the house once, and had turned her nose up and left. She insisted that taking this house was atoning what the Capitol had done to their family. But Logan, who had never had things so nice in her life, loved the house.<p>

Even if she was living in it alone, she took full advantage of the house. A big kitchen in which to cook, constant hot water, a soft bed, heat in the winter…<p>

She had survived the games, had killed her own, to earn all of this. With the way she had fought so hard for all of this, damnit, she deserved it. Her mother could believe whatever she wanted about it.<p>

Fresh out of her hot shower, Logan moved across the master bedroom and threw open the door to her closet, looking into the rich wardrobe inside, and smiled. All of it was hers. And she had earned in in blood, sweat, and tears.<p>


<b>.S . L . O . T . H .</b><p>

The light was bright through the windows, even with the shades drawn. Logan groaned and growled like an unhappy dog, covering her eyes and rolling over away from the light and pressing her face into the back of the couch. The knocking at the door that had woken her persisted until her mother finally pushed the door open and came inside. The young woman on the couch could practically feel the look of disgust on her mother’s face as she came further into the room. There was a long moment before she spoke.<p>

“Logan, the victory tour begins today.” Her mother’s voice was far too loud for the pounding in her head, and she moaned unhappily, throwing an arm over her head. “Fuck the tour, and fuck the Capitol.” She growled and pulled a pillow over her head.<p>

Logan had hoped that the games would be the end of it all, but it wasn’t hardly. She had been allowed to go home for a blissful year. She had taken up her manor in Victor’s Village and the first few months had been incredible. But as she began to come down from the shock and adrenaline high, she began to remember what she had done. And Logan had succumbed to reclusion and drink.<p>

“You’ve only gotten off that couch since you got home to buy liquor and scarf down some food. Your prep team will be here in an hour. Take a bath.”<p>

The door thumped as it closed behind her mother and Logan sighed. A few more moments and she managed to drag herself off of the couch and down the hall to the bathroom. The hot water was soothing on her skin and to her pounding head. She breathed in hard, the steam cleansing her mind.<p>

When she had been finally dragged back out into the light of day, she had been a mess. Ophelia, her designer, tisked and tusked along with her prep team as they brushed the knots out of her hair, waxed her legs, and concealed the dark circles under her eyes.<p>

Finally she was shoved into a dress that was far too tight for her comfort, accenting curves in a way meant to draw attention, and she walked out into the cold morning sun.<p>


<b>. G . L . U . T . T . O . N . Y .</b><p>

The victory tour had been a success to say the least. People had gushed over her, her grace, her beauty, her viciousness in the arena. They couldn’t stop talking about her last blow, that she had turned coat at the last moment to save herself, and that it was a brave act of pure intelligence. Gain the trust of her competitor then using it against him at the last moment….<p>

The president’s ball was the last stop before she would be allowed to go home. Back to her reclusion in her manor in the Victor’s Village where she would be left alone. She just had to survive a few more hours.<p>

She had to admit that her prep team had outdone themselves. Even she had to admit that she looked absolutely radiant in her dress of oxblood red, hair down and in thick rich curls, lips painted the same color as her dress. Her golden colored heels clicked softly across the ground as she walked, arm in arm, with her escort who was also acting as her date.<p>

Damion reached a hand over to take her chin and lift it slightly, turning her from a shy little girl to the goddess she looked like. “Chin up, smile on, Logan. Remember, this is all for you.”<p>

“I’d rather be at home.” She grumbled, but fixed a smile on her face and kept walking, into the party and the applause. And she ate, and she drank, and she danced until she was quite sure she would fall down and burst. She stepped away from the dance floor to take up residence along the wall, finding it hard to believe that she was smiling. No doubt it was the copious amounts of liquor she had been drinking all evening.<p>

She smiled to Damion as she approached her, a small champagne flute full of a purple substance in his hand, and a tray of some kind of sweet in the other. He offered her the tray, a sign for her to take one, and Logan shook her head. “I certainly could not eat another bite.” She insisted, and giggled happily. So he alternated hands to instead offer her the effervescent purple liquid.<p>

“This will fix that. Go to the restroom and drink this so you will have room for more.”<p>

Logan could feel her eyes widening and shook her head. “No thank you. I’ll just wait.” And she stepped away from the wall to go find a place to breathe.<p>

People in the Capitol were throwing up to eat more while people at home in District Five were killing each other to find something to eat.<p>


<b>. P . R . I . D . E .</b><p>

“You want me to do what now?”<p>

“I believe you heard me, child. It’s not unheard of, and you would not be the first.”<p>

“I’m no one’s whore!”<p>

She had drank perhaps a bit too much at the President’s Ball, so it had been easy for one of the president's attendants to whisk her away from the festivities and into a private meeting with the President. And she had thought nothing of it. Certainly he would do no harm to her knowing that there was a barrage of people downstairs waiting for her. But this idea he proposed was…..<p>

“Make them happy, and I will make sure your family is very happy.”<p>

“And if I refuse?” She growled dangerously, feeling her hands clench hard into fists at her sides.<p>

“Your younger brother, what is his name? Samuel?" Purred that voice like arsenic and honey that made her sick. When she nodded her confirmation, he continued. "Would be a shame to see him disappear. And so young too…”<p>

The color left Logan’s already pale face, her mouth falling open, eyes going wide. She couldn’t breathe… the walls were closing in. Her heart seemed to be in her throat but at the same time felt like it wasn’t beating at all. Her hands left her sides to instead grab the back of the chair in front of her, barely managing to stay on her feet. She closed her eyes hard, swallowing the nausea threatening to burn the back of her throat.<p>

“Good, now that we are of an understanding, you will do as you are told. The first misstep and your family will feel every bit of your rebellion. You will have a permanent residence here in the Capitol in addition to your manor in your home district. Anytime I call for you, you are to come immediately, without question, without complaint. Am I understood?”<p>

Logan barely managed a nod, still breathing hard, feeling her legs shaking. “Yes….yes, Sir….”<p>

“Good, now go back downstairs. Smile, chin up. Remember all of them are down there for you. Act grateful.”<p>


<b>. L . U . S . T .</b><p>

“You know I hate when you leave me.”<p>

She was still in bed, not yet dressed, hardly awake, watching him dress for the day. He was a regular client, and she did not know his name. But the goal of her job was not to know their names, but to make them feel special. And she knew he was someone important. She went out of her way to make him feel extra special every time.<p>

He was a far cry older than her, but handsome, and refined, lacking a lot of the frivolity that men in the Capitol usually wore. Dark hair with green eyes the color of the grass in her backyard at home. Tall, and reasonably fit, time had not yet begun to show wear on his body, but his hair was graying at his temples.<p>

Green eyes turned to look at her over his shoulder, and he smiled that smile as if he was indulging her, and went back to tying his tie. “I know you do, but I will see you again soon. You know I cannot stay away from you for too long.”<p>

Logan stood from the bed, relishing in the warmth of the early morning sun on her bare skin, and moved across the room to stand behind him as he prepped himself for the first day of the games. She pressed her face into his shoulder blade, his silk shirt soft on her face. “And how does your wife feel about that?” And she breathed in the scent of his expensive cologne, smirking happily as she did.<p>

He sighed, still sounding as if he was indulging her, and he turned to look down at her, touch the bare skin of her shoulder, observe her body, naked as the day she was born. And he leaned down to kiss her with a heat that promised so much upon his return. “Had I not know you were so young, I never would have believed it. You are wise far beyond your years.”<p>

She grinned cheekily up at him, running a hand slowly down the seam of buttons down his front. “Are you avoiding the question?” And he swatted her playfully, causing her grin to grow even wider. But she relented, moving across the room to find something wear in her wardrobe. His footsteps were soft moving across the room, making it clear he was leaving. So she instead wrapped herself in a robe quickly and followed him to the door, standing in the elaborate living room as her visitor checked himself once more in the mirror.<p>

He glanced back to her briefly, and she smiled at him, a smile that told him emotions that she did not feel: love, desire, a longing for his return. In truth. He was no more than a way for her to keep her family safe.<p>

And the finality with which he closed the door made her realize something. What had she become?

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nicole. twenty-three . central . aim, pm, skype .
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<center><div style="width: 400px; font-size: 10px; font-family: verdana; color: 550022; div-align: right; margin-top: -30px; line-height: 30px"><div align="right"><a href="http://candylandcouture.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=19"><font color="000000">thank you alygator ❤</font></a></div>
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