Logan McBane

starling — Offline


Logan Alexander McBane
Spirit

Need to Know

- He/Him
- 40 (Feb 4)
- 6'5"
- Light Auburn Hair
- Light Blue Eyes
- Commercial Fisherman in Astoria
- Lives in Astoria

Appearance

⇝ Calloused hands and pale, sea-brined skin
⇝ An angled facial structure suited to support severity
⇝ Messy, shoulder length auburn hair
⇝ Broad statured and heavily muscled- seemingly bred to endure physical hardships
⇝ Facial hair often aligns with his moods
⇝ Clothes denote a proclivity for comfort and pragmatism.
⇝ No tattoos or piercings

About Me

Personality

⥣ Hardworking, Loyal, Honest, Just
⥥ Opinionated, Stubborn, Loud, Brutish
⥧ Intelligent, but emotional, Quick to anger, slow to calm

History

The McBanes had hidden the secret of their lineage for centuries, each family swearing a blood oath to clandestine compliance. These constraints are what kept the pack safe through history, with the publicly declared extinction of their species, thriving through preparation and planning. The Scottish highlands offered limitless terrain, but their transformations were wearily guarded, through the bitter marriage of fickle weather and agriculture, finally discovering a road to prosperity. It took generations, but eventually the family had amassed a vast enough fortune to allow them the opportunity to purchase their own territory.

Iron cages and cold shackles were forgotten for wooded havens, the druids to which they'd promised their allegiance sharing in their many spoils. Life was allowed to continue to shape, each sire given the opportunity at two children. Population control served as a means of survival, to diversify their genetics, choosing mates from allied clans- sometimes, from across the seas. There wasn't a milestone in their futures that wasn't scripted, each step paved by expectation and duty. It was a wonderment when Logan broke tradition, choosing exile to follow a human to the Americas. His father tried to stop him, but by ritual, he freed himself from obligation and lived within the other half of his heart, no matter the scars it cost him.

Marlene's family had not known the ease his own privileged life had granted, but they shared all they had, and welcomed him with a fierce and unexpected kindness. He repaid their generosity with tireless work, joining the crew of one of Astoria's many commercial fishing fleets. Slowly, they built a life together, and while the guilt of remembrance eased, the risk of transformation increased.

He'd welded himself the shackles and tested the iron, but despite his wife's keen oversight, a fracture went undetected. The small fissure eventually gave way to rupture, and while he'd had the good sense to separate himself from his family, the bear could not avoid the enticing smells wafting from a nearby city. He'd killed a man in the pursuit of curiosity, and drawn the attention of the media, in the following weeks, watching hazy pictures of his beast in the flickering grain of their television set. After that day, he volunteered for longer spans at sea, taking to seclusion to remove the danger his presence could draw. He realized too late his absence also deprived protection.

He knew Marlene had died shielding their daughter, but it was a comfort that bit with the sting a cold winter always welcomed. A hollow, empty condolence for his life's sole responsibility and purpose. Grief was a shadow that occluded, and within that ceaseless darkness, a demon came to whisper.

Portland. Carmine.

"Carmine." It would echo within the last, labored swell of a breath, blue eyes finally acquiescing to hold the ceaseless shadow that pushed to occupy them, tendrils of a rugged and cold earth cradling his body's disfunction as it slipped to ruin and decay. Evalyn Dimitriou had inflicted herself into his very veins, but Logan would not allow the monster to transcend into the walls of his mental coffin, what was left lucidity pulling at memory's strings to occlude the vampire's image with his family's smiling faces.

Peace.

It lasted but a moment, his bear jerking with futility as the same insidious voice that had pointed him towards an end incited a new beginning, each syllable pushing through promised infinity with a rancor that twisted and disfigured the taste of death.

Other

Face Claim: Sam Heughan

⇝ Gaelic is his first language.
⇝ Killed by Evalyn Dimitriou in North Portland, April 11th, 2020.