emersonlogan

[emersonlogan]

who: sonny & [OPEN] ! what: reworking his game plan after spending all of orientation doing guerrilla marketing for margot rowe’s living bard’s society presidential campaign instead of formally reuniting with his friends and/or working on the relationships he’s supposed to be forging if he wants to do what he came to cherry to do ! where: the ccu cafeteria !

Sonny worked on the docks for a few years, back in San Francisco. 

The other workers used to tease a group of old sailors-turned-fishermen, who were always driveling on about their neurotic superstitions. The fishermen wouldn’t set sail against a red sunrise, because that meant a storm is coming. They all had gold hoops piercing their ears, not because they were hip, but because it was supposedly good luck to have some gold in you. They said redheads weren’t allowed on their ships, because they were usually soulless Pagans. Women were dangerous to have on board, because they’d distract the crew; but statues of women on the outside of the ship were good luck, because nothing calmed the sea gods like the sight of a topless lady on the bow. Whistling was bad luck, because it took a fool’s hubris to challenge the wind. You couldn’t set sail on a Friday, because that was the day of the week that Jesus died, nor the first Monday in April, which is the day that Cain killed his brother Abel, nor the second Monday in August, which is the day that Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed, nor December 31, which is the day that Judas Iscariot committed suicide. Tattoos were lucky, and the fact that they looked badass was just an incidental bonus. Albatrosses were unlucky, because of some arbitrary poem a guy wrote in the 1700′s. And, god, bananas? Total shit-sucking catastrophes, the devil’s final yellow omens; keep them as far away from the ship as possible, and don’t you dare ask why; the simple act of mentioning them could compromise the whole voyage. 

It made sense, though, the more Sonny thought about it while watching the freaky geezers pour wine all over their decks for good luck. He figured that the sea was such a powerful, scary, deadly, unpredictable frontier, with no one around to save them if something went wrong on the ship. They were completely at the mercy of something greater than themselves. Of course they would do anything to keep themselves from getting psyched out. They were challenging something too mighty to wrap their heads around, venturing into an infinite expanse filled with unspeakable evil.

Sitting down at an empty table in the CCU cafeteria, he rubs one of his ear lobes between his thumb and pointer finger and wonders if Clarissa Teller would know anybody who could give him a little gold hoop piercing.

Sonny drops his stuff on the seat beside him and glances down at the last few flyers he had to terrorize the campus with — ♡ Vote Margot! ♡  

When the eyes of this woman he’s never met before today stare back at him, he has to ask himself how he jumped headfirst into this mission without stopping to ask if Ted Lewis was running for the same spot. Remember Ted, Sonny? That’s the guy who you’re actually supposed to be building a relationship with. He never even stopped to consider it, not consciously. Just committed himself to a chipper stranger he had no baggage or tension with. It was always in his nature to throw his heart and soul into random ventures completely on a whim, but he knew he wasn’t doing this in the name of impulsive philanthropy. It would be nice to see a sweetie like Margot win— he’s never found an underdog he wouldn’t root for— but he knew he was doing this to procrastinate the real mission that brought him back to Cherry. 

In the most charitable explanation, he was doing this to get his mojo up to snuff before he got down to business with his old friends. He couldn’t function like a good little detective with the way his heart sunk like an anchor every time he saw a familiar dimple of someone he left in the dust, or heard about any more ways the gangs’ lives changed for the worse since he betrayed and abandoned them. He’s hiding ulterior motives from them all over again, he’s still lying to them about what he did to the Freeses, and some of them — including sweet, hopeless Mac, of all people — he’s completely using, building up their trust with the endgame of taking advantage of them the same way he did Scott. It’s hard to keep his head in the game when he’s so busy feeling like a nasty little devil. He has to psyche himself up and get to work before the incomprehensible evil that lurks in Cherry decides to reveal something he doesn’t need people to know. He needs to ease his conscience, feel like he’s boosted his karma, and remind himself of who he is despite his dirty, dirty deeds. 

He can’t just focus on karma or luck, though. He only has a chance to save Libby for as long as he’s safe and trusted around town, and he can’t waste time on random crusades for outside parties. He’s at the mercy of some treacherous greater power that could expose him at any second, and he needs to move faster than the tides. Spiritually, he did some good work today, but he needs to do something that matters in a tangible way. Compromising with himself, he decides to do something that will get his investigation moving even if he isn’t ready to talk to the gang yet: he should do some work for Ted’s campaign now.

He folds up the last few Margot Rowe flyers and moves to shove them into his bag, but his boney elbow accidentally knocks over a salt shaker in the process. Before he even registers it, his hands are raking up the spilled salt and tossing it over his shoulder without taking a split second to see if anybody was behind him. He goes back to sticking the flyers in his bag and pulls out a spiral notebook and ballpoint pen, blissfully unaware that he just threw a handful of teeny-tiny white rocks into some poor schmuck’s face. He bites the cap off of the pen and starts drafting his first groundbreaking slogan idea: TED 4 BIG BARD.

#oh no this got way longer than expected but it's genuinely just because i rambled about nothing substantial for like five paragraphs #at the end of the day all that happened in this starter is that he threw salt at somebody walking behind him and that is... #two sentences' worth of action so feel free to ignore the length and reply with two sentences for real #cusastart #also!!!!!!!!!!! #your character doesn't have to be the person who got hit!!!!!!!! #they could have just witnessed some poor confused cheerleader shake salt out of her hair and give him a dirty look and keep walking #you could make an aggro npc start yelling at him and your character could come to his defense #you could make him hit someone your character likes and your muse storms up to him to defend their honor #iz a free for all :)

[emersonlogan]

🐉  ⁄  the sentry of fort flakycrust​.

who: open  what: pie time where: the pie stand

Elaine hated the pie stand. She hated being covered in flour, she hated the sticky residue it left under her fingernails, and she hated putting on a fake little smile to greet customers. And of course, her parents had decided the stand was the perfect little project to assign her! It was like they had a sixth sense for when she was miserable and without fail always decided to press on the bruise. Now, she wasn’t exactly slinging pies. No, the Archers would rather die than have their little girl up to her elbows in stewed cherries, but she was to oversee all of the operations. The message was loud and clear- if the pie stand failed, Elaine had failed. 

And still, that wasn’t enough to get her to be nice to customers or employees alike, especially when they were being mind-numbingly stupid. “No, you cannot return an empty pie tin for a refund,” she scoffs, shooing the customer away and turning towards the closest person, “Is CCU just letting anyone in these days?” 

⚓︎ ☠ ⚓︎

ABORT MISSION. ABORT. ABORT.

Sonny scrambles to shove Margot Rowe’s flyers into his backpack and zipper it up the second he notices Elaine dismissing the pie fiend. He thought that starting the rumor about free refills would cause enough arguments with disappointed customers to distract her while he risked his life engaging in guerrilla marketing for his new friend. But he here was, in the crosshairs of the shiny-haired, fire-breathing dragon, guarding the pies like priceless treasure. She’s either grown up, or she’s holding her tongue in front of Delia, because he expected her to chew that customer out for way longer.

It’s hard to do a clean job covering his tracks when he’s trying so hard to keep his head completely down, looking in any direction but Elaine's, lest she pay any more attention to him or what he’s doing, or ask herself if he looks familiar at all. In his haste, there’s a good chance he left a little corner of one of the flyers sticking out from its snug sneaky spot between the bottom of the pie and the inside of the tin, but she might not notice it if he can skedaddle without giving her a reason to be suspicious. If he has an ounce of self-control and restraint, he'll do the smart thing: mumble something like “yeah, people sure are dumb idiots,” and then scamper away without the conversation going any further. If he’s outgrown the big mouth that got him in so much trouble in his childhood, he certainly won’t be stupid enough to say something incendiary, like---

             ❝ You coulda just gave the guy a pie. Built some good will between                    the Archers and the new generation of customers. Unless you                    guys are really struggling too much to spare one fucking unit... ❞

#elainefm #'if the pie stand failed - ELAINE had failed' god you have such a way of reminding me how sympathetic her character is underneath all of the #snootiness and assholery by just giving the shortest line at the end. but you never fully bask in it it's always like... #''oh yeah here's elaine being on a rampage for six paragraphs. oh by the way there's actually a devastating reason that makes all of her #actions make complete sense. don't worry about that though. here's elaine telling casey that he's #the raggedy old shein she was too embarrassed to even give to goodwill and harvey is her black dior dress that makes her feel like royalty #and no one would ever bother trying him on let alone wearing him out because he's just the most shameful blemish on the love lives of #every woman who has ever been with him and he's just never going to be worth anything much less be worthy of love #oh yeah this is her half-projecting and half-pushing him away 'cus her brain has been warped and it's a herculean task to reconcile it but. #wow elaine's such a dick though amirite? haha'' #and to be clear i am obsessed with this way of writing her but i am also going to cry myself to sleep later. #:)) #anyway my mission for tonight was to do this starter don't ask me how i wound up spending so much time on this sidequest for margot #actually that's probably appropriate because i think the reason sonny is spending so much time on this is to put off having conversations he #knows he needs to go out and start with the rest of the gang. #but. lol ok i'm gonna get back to work on that now no more posts about margot's flyers

[emersonlogan]

🍑  ⁄  miss congeniality​.

𝐖𝐇𝐎: Margot Rowe & OPEN

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓: Miss Margot has places to be and elections to win!

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄: CCU Quad

Okay, you got her! Margaret Grace Rowe was a certified theater kid. It wasn’t a secret, by any means. After all, theatrics were so much cooler than they were in high school and she had practically been primmed to be the next leading lady of the drama club after that poor Blaire girl’s murder. When one blonde leaves, another takes her place! Or… something like that! Becoming president of the Living Bards Society was just her first step in segmenting herself as a force to be reckoned with at Cherry Coastal.

It was almost primal, Margot’s desire to be a winner. To be a part of a winning team, the best of the best, the cream of the crop. While her number one love would always be for cheer, drama came at a close second. And while she didn’t have the balls to go against the likes of Elaine Archer or Zahra Jackson, she did have the balls (and triple threat talent!) to go against the dweebs of the Living Bards Society. 

She spent the entire night before making posters, practically begging her parents to let her use the color in the printer. By the next afternoon, Margot had about forty little flyers adorned with her face with red and pink doodles telling you to vote for her. She stood on her tip toes, attempting to hang one of her flyers on a pole, but it seemed like plenty of others had the same idea as her, and there was only room in places she couldn’t reach. Margot turned her head, looking over her shoulder at someone who was a mere few feet behind her.

“When you’re done staring, do you think you could help me out?”

⚓︎ ☠ ⚓︎

What catches his attention isn’t the pristinely symmetrically tied ribbon in her hair, or the cordial smile she seems to flash at everybody who looks her way, or even the folksy Southern accent you don’t usually hear around this beach town. It’s the fact that, despite walking around with a pair of pom-poms peeking out of her bag, this blonde had the human decency to find an unused spot on the pole as opposed to pasting her face right over someone else’s, out of the inflated sense of self-importance he expects from every Cherry cheerleader. So, whatever she’s advertising, he’s already inclined to give it a glance. Or, he would, if he could see it in that asinine spot on the pole.

He gets his chance to see it after she calls him over. 

                                             ♡ Vote Margot! ♡ 

...Sure, fine. She’s got his vote, if he remembers to show up to the poll. But she really is gonna need some help if she wants anybody else to give her the time of day.

               ❝ Yeah, let me start by giving you some advice:                                                    if you can’t even reach it, it’s not worth it. ❞

                  ❝ We’re living in a post-Adbusters world, lady.                      Nobody’s looking at a regular old sign to begin with, let alone                      one that isn’t eye level. You gotta start thinking outside ’the box.                      If you can’t put it in a normal spot, put it in a spot so abnormal                      that you wind up earning people’s respect for it. You can’t just                      tell people to pretty please pick you. If you want to prove                      you’re a good president for the, ah...  ❞  

He motions her to hand him the stack of flyers, and squints down at them to figure out exactly what she’s campaigning for. 

          ❝ ‘Living... Bard’s Society....’ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵗᵒʷⁿ ˢᵘᶜᵏˢ ˢᵒ ᵇᵃᵈ ......You gotta use                  the campaign to show ‘em you’re resourceful, y’know? Innovative.                  Somebody who’s gonna find creative fixes to problems and bring                  some fresh ideas to the table. You gotta make them believe you’re                  the guy who’s gonna turn them into the prog metal of                  dorky theater troupes. ❞

He flips through the stack of papers like he’s counting cash, taking inventory. She sure did print enough to do some damage if she used them right, and he has to admit: the colored ink was a classy touch. This gal’s got the ambition. She just needs the moxie.

         ❝ Print a huge version of this and run it up the flagpole. Hide flyers at the               bottom of some of the Archer pie tins. Put a big old ‘VOTE MARGE’               stencil over the spotlight bulb and wait for one of the crew geeks to               flash it on the stage. Spell it out in the stray chunks of soft pretzel salt               that pile up by the condiments table in the dining hall. If there’s no               room on the dorm hall’s bulletin board, get some Gorilla tape and               tile the whole wall around it with a zillion of these. ❞

#personally i think the drama club name is very funny. i'm disappointed in myself for how long it took me to get it but it's good. #shakingpompoms #sorry for the length feel free to shorten it's really just him yapping forever and me assuming shes too polite at this time to cut him off #looking forward to the point in her character development where she just pinches his lips closed and says: Shhhhhhh. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

[emersonlogan]

                                     ᴇᴍᴇʀsᴏɴ ʟᴇᴇ ʟᴏɢᴀɴ

                  son333333333333333333lol (eighteen 3′s) on aol.

NICKNAMES: Sonny, Captain Logan (self-anointed since kindergarten). BIRTHDAY: ♋︎ July 3rd, 1979. ♋︎ LIVING ARRANGEMENTS: tba! OCCUPATION: Cafe Worker at Blossom Records. EDUCATION: Freshman at CCU, majoring in Maritime Engineering. HOBBIES/HABITS: Skateboarding. Wandering, exploring secluded areas (finding a hidden cove at the farthest end of the beach or a creek in the woods, sneaking into abandoned buildings, getting mugged in a dark alleyway). Doodling dumb little cartoons. Music festivals & raves. Embellishing stories about wild things that happened at the aforementioned music festivals and raves. Superstitious rituals. Camping. Picking an awful lot of fights for a kid who weighs about 150 lbs. LIKES: Tony Hawk. Boats. Post-rock, neo-psychedelic, hardcore, ska punk, and any alternative or experimental rock music of the ’90s. Skateparks. Treating places he certainly should not skate in like skateparks. 25¢ vending machine knick-knacks. Seagulls (feeding, imitating, chasing, having full one-sided conversations with). Mentos-diet coke rockets. Anchovies. Bonfires, s’mores, ghost stories. Newspaper comics. Play Station. Souvenir culture. Making the Teller sisters smile. :) DISLIKES: Shutting the fuck up about San Francisco. Quietly sitting still, not drumming on any surfaces or disruptively shaking his leg. Staring at a screen for longer than thirty minutes. Clothes that fit less than two sizes too large. Cops. Class. Coffee. Dave Matthews Band. That condescending fake laugh Elaine does when she’s making fun of someone. 

                                                SECRET. When Sonny knew he needed cash if he was going to go through with his plan to run away, he stole an envelope of money that the Freese family had spent years saving up to pay for recent renovations to the ice cream shop. He knew he would’ve had a clearer conscience if he tried to steal some funds from richer families like the Archers, and he knew the Freeses would spend years paying it back and recovering from the bad PR around town — and it seems like they’re still trying to bounce back to this day. But, he also knew the softhearted Scott would be the easiest to take advantage of— the most likely man in town to trust his daughter’s friends around his money, not suspect Sonny, not pursue the burglar, and lay down and take it when he lost his money. He stole the cash with enough buffer time for the heat to die down before he finally left Cherry, and gave the bulk of it to Odessa to cover the expenses of moving him into her home.

                                             BIOGRAPHY.

Class clown. Ne’er-do-well. No-good loud-mouthed hyper-active smartass who needs to wear his helmet with that damn skateboard. Sonny was always the court jester of the school. He would thumb his nose at figures of authority — including the more popular and powerful members of his own friend group. Though it was much more playful and harmless in the case of someone like Harvey, he showed a pretty open disdain toward people like Lux or Elaine, for one reason: he mostly liked or disliked people based on how they treated his high-strung and haunted twin sister, Libby Logan.

No one needs to be reminded that things were always tense in the Logan household, but Sonny never made it easier for anyone. He didn’t have the complacency to watch the mistreatment of his sisters. An early childhood friendship with a spitfire like Zahra Jackson inspired him to stand up for himself, and he had a lifelong habit of talking back and keeping Glenda in a wrathful mood. 

His relationship with Sabrina was always volatile, his feelings towards her fluctuating between aggrievement and compassion depending on how cruel or doting Glenda was towards her on that given day, but it was ultimately loving. He would just never be as close to her, or anyone else, as he was with Libby. 

He took his role as the older twin, only brother, and bravest, most wicked-gnarly and badass rebel in the family to play the hero for his sisters, jumping in front of bullets whenever he could, using his own brazenness for good. If Libby got a bad grade on an art project, he would skateboard through the house and break a lava lamp to make sure his mom’s rage was focused on him more than her. He would try to take the fall for Libby setting off the smoke alarm, and reason that he was going to get in trouble for something bad he did that day anyway, so there was no reason for both of them to suffer. 

At school, he embellished stories or outright made some up to make his mother’s treatment of him sound more funny than tragic. Pushing real facts into the absurdity, going from “my mom makes me wear a leash when she brings me to the grocery store??” in 1st grade to “my mom makes me sleep in a doghouse when I’m bad” in 4th grade, to “my mom slipped dog tranquilizers into my oatmeal because I’m too hyperactive” by middle school. It was impossible to tell how much was made up, or if there were any crumbs of truth to his stories, but they seemed too crazy to be real. By all accounts, he seemed to have a good sense of humor about his mom’s strict parenting and convinced himself and almost everyone else (barring Libby, probably) that he wasn’t genuinely hurt by his home life. 

Unexpectedly, the one person who seemed to immediately notice the toxicity of Sonny and Glenda’s relationship was his mysterious estranged Aunt Odessa, who made a rare, standoffish appearance at a family function when he was in 7th grade, and could tell after witnessing a small blow-up in the corner of the room that this kid was NOT going to survive in Glenda’s house with his stubborn, feisty, tactless spirit. Before making her Irish goodbye, she pulled him to the side and gave him her contact information if he ever needed to talk. She never extended the courtesy to Sabrina or Sabrina’s mini-me, Libby, almost as if it was too painful to even look at them.

For the next year, Sonny would make offhanded jokes to his friend group about running away someday (it runs in his family!), but it never seemed like he was seriously working out logistics of an escape route.

Deep down, even he didn’t realize that he was sincerely considering it, but that may have been out of a fear and denial of how conniving some of his plans were to disappear, and a refusal to believe he actually had it in him to do what he had to do to get away with it. 

Sonny knew that it was a stretch for a 14-year-old to expect a modest, aloof woman to spontaneously adopt him and take on all of the expenses that come with making space for a rambunctious teenage boy in her house, and he also knew that he would need some kind of insurance if he was going to survive on the streets for long enough to make his next move if she didn’t let him in. To soften the blow in either outcome, he needed money. And, tragically, he knew where to get it if he wanted to pull his escape plan off without a hitch.

In the Spring before their freshman year of high school, the Freeses had finally saved up the huge funds they needed to get much-needed renovations done on the ice cream shop, and they left an envelop of money behind the counter in the shop overnight to pay the contractors that would be there in the morning - a shop that that infamously had a busted lock they didn’t rush to replace because they had enough trust in their neighbors.

Sonny’s moral compass knew if he was going to do what he was thinking to do, he could’ve taken from the pockets of a richer family, like the Archers or the Hargroves. But the realistic and frantically desperate side of him knew that the Freeses were the least likely to actually track him down and persecute him. The plan felt like an intrusive thought he wanted to swat away, but on an evening that he came home twenty minutes past curfew to find that Glenda had locked the doors and windows for the night, allegedly assuming he was sleeping over a friend’s, he impulsively skated to Frost-ee’s notoriously unreliably-locked doors and swiped the envelop of cold cash, and spent the rest of the restless, paranoid night sleeping over Cristiano’s. 

Over the course of the springtime and into the Summer, he watched as the Freeses not only went into debt with the renovation team, but also had their local reputation damaged in a way that would impact business in the long term, because so many townies would know them as the scumbag scammers who tried to get free service and lied about the money going missing. 

Sonny stayed in town for the rest of the Summer after it happened, waiting for the scandal to die down a bit before he took off, so people wouldn’t immediately realize it was him. 

The longer he stayed, too scared to say anything about what he did out of fear of the consequences, the more he realized he was completely locked into this plan and there was no turning back. His relationship with the gang would be unsalvageable if they ever found out what he did, (to the Freeses, of all families!) and then he would lose the only reason he had to stay in Cherry. If he managed to hide that he did it, he would be too wracked with guilt to act normal. So, as far as he was concerned, one impulsive move messed up everything he had to live for in Cherry, and his only option was starting a new life somewhere else.

The one person he let in on his scheme to run away was Libby, though he never said a word about the envelope. He only pitched it to her because he wanted her to skip town with him, because she was the one person he thought he could never leave behind. 

She didn’t take it well. She said she would hate him forever if he left, and never talk to him again if he really did it. He convinced himself it was typical Libby Lou dramatics and thought that she would eventually follow him once she realized he was serious about leaving. 

On a muggy August night, he made his move. 

He left instructions for Libby on how to find him, and contact information so he could guide her along the way, but it turned out that she was making good on her promise to never speak to him again. The longer he waited for her to call or show up, the more he started to resent her for, in his mind, choosing Glendzilla over her twin brother.

He pushed forward with making a life in San Francisco, and it became a bastion of freedom for him. He had a surprisingly smooth proposition and move-in with Odessa and her longtime partner, Levi. 

Granted, Odessa was distant — more like a wise older roommate than a caretaker. Though she did everything she could to materially help Sonny, and felt like helping him would make up for abandoning Sabrina, she’ll always be haunted by what happened to her in Cherry, and it was hard to let her walls down around someone who had the same big green eyes as her daughter. She was hands-off in parenting him, since he was already clearly a pretty scrappy and independent kid by the time he got to her, and she never really got a chance to mentally prepare for raising a child, much less one who already came with such a strong personality. 

He spent a lot of time at Bay Area punk shows and music festivals, and stayed out late on school nights. Odessa could tell that he reveled in freedom after a childhood under Glenda’s roof, so she didn’t really have the heart to give him a curfew, and would just do her best to advise him on avoiding hangovers, addictions, and STDs. 

He felt happy with his new life in San Fransisco. He miraculously finished high school and got a job he loved working on the local docks. He thought he made peace with never returning to his hometown, until he got a letter in the mail straight from Cherry, California. And it wasn’t Libby finally reaching out to him. It was Lux, dead and more menacing than ever.

(Christ alive this is getting so stupidly long. You get the gist. He’s back in town in the interest of clearing Libby’s name. He knows there’s hard feelings and he feels awkward for the first time in his life. He enrolled in CCU to have an excuse to stay in town long enough to solve the mystery in the event that his old friends and sisters make it clear that he isn’t welcome. He got a job at the Blossom Records cafe to get closer to Mac. I’ll see you all on the dash.)

                                              PERSONALITY.

Before his houdini act, he was known as the loudmouthed comic relief type of kid who, by all accounts, really seemed to have a heart of gold. He was always quick to reach out to people when they were going through something, but not at all in a Francesca Freese way. He wasn’t qualified to give advice or react seriously to people’s problems. His specialty was, fittingly, escapism. He lived in a house where there was no leveling with his parents or fixing any his family’s problems, so the only way to survive them was to just walk away every once in a while and look outside of his house to find some kind of solace in life. He went into other people’s problems with that same strategy.

Growing up by the coast, in a restrictive household, he always romanticized sailors and pirates, and dreamed of being the captain of his own ship, far away from society’s dumb rules and stressors. Everyone knew he was planning to travel the seven seas when he grew up, but nobody guessed that he would make his maiden voyage at the age of 14.

He has a lifelong habit of wandering off without telling anyone, and is a survivor of child leashing, which only ended when Glenda got tired of him trying to escape and opted to let him roam free and simply never tell him she loved him ever again. On more than one occasion, Sonny almost caused traffic pileups from crossing the road without looking both ways as a child. He kept every lifeguard in Cherry in the early ’90s busy. He could not be trusted around a “Keep off the Grass” or “No Trespassing” sign.

Sonny has always loved the idea of exploring, travelling, and going on adventures. He’s a devotee of souvenir culture, even on extremely small scales. If he went to the beach without Cristiano, he would bring back the coolest seashell he found that day. If he went to the grocery store without his sisters, he would stop at the 25¢ vending machines and get a glittery little bouncy ball for Libby and a plastic butterfly ring for Sabrina. (I have a list of worthless little presents he’s given every member of the gang + some lifelong townies that I’ll probably post soon!!)

100% Sonny was the kid who hid these little trinkets in your coat pockets for you to find the next time you wore it, and he would also just mess with stuff in your room, so you would be getting ready for bed the night after he visited and see he positioned your G.I. Joes to be 69ing. He’d leave secret messages in the last few pages of your notebooks that you wouldn’t find until you got to that page in the last month of school. More than one of the gang members absolutely ended their freshman year of high school finding a crude doodle in the back of their math notebook of a duck in a pirate hat smoking a cigarette, with a caption that said ‘CAPTAIN LOGAN WUZ X.’ 

He’s hugely sentimental. Even in his skeleton’s connections, it’s loud and clear that he’s still impacted by the end of his friendships with Zahra and Cristiano. It’s fair to say that he never stopped thinking about the gang while he was in San Francisco. He still seems to remember the tiniest, dumbest details and anecdotes about everyone and can’t help the big bittersweet smile on his face when he’s reminiscing about them. 

He picked up some bohemian lifestyle choices from spending time with hippie layabouts back in San Fransisco. He’s allegedly tried a wide array of psychedelic drugs, reads Adbusters, plays the bongos, likes the idea of liking the Beat poets and Hunter S. Thompson, and suddenly understands Astrid Van Allen’s lectures better than ever after dating an archetypal 90′s Wicca girl in high school. At his core, he’s still an unserious chucklefuck who loves Adam Sandler movies, but he’ll supportively nod along to Casey’s rants about the government and interpretations of Camus.

                                           HEADCANONS.

Did not like Lux Lewis, mostly out of loyalty to Libby. His relationships with the other popular girl side of the group (Alice, Elaine, Kitty, Virginia, Zahra) fluctuated, but I think he really chalked up most of their worst personality traits to Lux rubbing off on them. (Elaine stayed on thin ice at all times though.) He got along best with the group members who were the right mix of weird/offbeat/alternative and outgoing (Cristiano, Casey, Rocky, Frankie). He still tried to dick around with the quieter friends like Noah, Rory, Mac, and Zev, but as much as he admired them, I think his loud personality might have been overwhelming to them and he might have felt like he was pulling teeth trying to drag them out of their shells. (I don’t think Mac fits neatly into the latter group but their connection requires that they weren’t that close in their childhood so I’m lumping him in there.) His relationship with Harvey was it’s own bag of mixed but generally positive feelings; he definitely had more good will toward Harvey than the cheerleaders thanks to his friendship with Libby, but a part of Sonny did resent him, unfairly, solely for the fact that Glenda always tried to morph him into Harvey’s clone.) 

Sonny was the skatepark rapscallion who taught Libby how to shred!!!!! (as mentioned in the Sports section of her bio.) 

He left Cherry before everybody’s shit hit the fan after middle school, so he doesn’t know anything about things like Rocky or Virginia moving to the Southside, or Alice falling from grace.

I’ve fully decided he had a big fat crush on Maddie when he was little. She was an aspirational figure to him, as someone who traveled across the country every year and had this worldly adventurer’s mystique in Sonny’s eyes, but more importantly, she was very nice, and pretty, and matched his goofy energy, and he thought that her being kind of tomboyish made her the coolest girl he’d ever met. I don’t think she had the ability to make him shy, per se, but I’ll bet that any time she said something vaguely approving toward him he got tongue-tied and suddenly couldn’t keep eye contact.

You may have noticed that he’s listed as 21 and Libby is listed as 20 on the skeletons page... 👀 Hmmm............... ...................Anyway.

TW: DIS0RDERED EATING ! He has some hang-ups and weird habits with regards to eating, from a childhood of Glenda denying or tampering with his food for punishments. He used to survive mostly on sealed 7-Eleven snacks, and to this day he still avoids eat homemade meals or restaurant food. You’ll mostly catch him eating tinned sardines, crackers, beans, and bagged spinach. He also has a deeply-ingrained habit of starving himself when he feels really guilty and is compelled to punish himself to ease his conscience. 😔 He doesn’t know how much a victim he is to the Catholic mentality Glenda injected into his brain that Suffering = Virtuous.

UH OH!! I accidentally decided it would be really angsty and fun if he convinced everybody to participate in a time capsule and he invited everyone to bury it in his favorite piece of beach to celebrate their middle school graduation. Perhaps we... could all pitch ideas for what our characters threw in there.   

                           WANTED CONNECTIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!

I want to say that he made sure to have one last one-on-one hangout with every member of the gang in the month before he blew this pop stand. I like the drama of him having one unforgettable day with each of his friends, even though there would be a tension hanging over his head the whole time, because they would think that they were going to continue this great friendship with him in high school, while he knew it was supposed to be the last time he would ever see them. I would love to plot these out with everybody pleeeeease. :) (Don’t actually feel pressured though. I’m gonna say he reached out to make plans with everyone - even Elaine the Pain - but they didn’t have to actually indulge him.)

Roommate(s)?? His living arrangements are up in the air right now!! Not sure if he’d be dorming through loans or if he would want to save as much money as possible by living off-campus. If anyone has a character or family that would’ve posted a tenant wanted listing over the Summer, or needs a dorm-buddy, lmk! <3 He could be on the Southside or Cherry Proper, but it would probably have to be a very humble apartment if he’s in the mainland. 

There are some wanted connections mentioned in the interview section on his app! The friend he had his first drink with, the girl whose hand he held (could be upgrade to a very awkward smooch or honestly might’ve been completely chaste and just him trying to cheer her up when she was sad as opposed to it being a romantic thing if that doesn’t fit!, the older kid who gave Sonny dirty magazines in exchange for letting him into Sabrina’s underwear drawer wait not that one), or any other first-time memories. I had some muses in mind when writing those anecdotes, but I didn’t mention any names because I wanted to leave them open to anyone or make the characters inconsequential NPCs. (EDIT: i just revisited the app and realized I actually cut out all but two of those anecdotes from my original draft because otherwise Sonny would’ve been rambling for like twenty minutes, but the other ideas that involved other muses were: first time someone actually got him to focus and study for a test without any distractions, first time seeing a shooting star while looking at the sky with someone, first time he threw a punch, first time playing spin the bottle or truth or dare, first bicurious confession or homoerotic experience. :0 )

I just want to secure a childhood Play Station buddy. You know Glenda would never let him play Mortal Kombat under her roof but I feel like he needs to have that essential 90s tweenage boy experience. Who did he have Red Bull-fueled all-nighter sleepovers with. Who is he gonna have a Twisted Metal rematch with? Maybe they would listen to CDs with Parental Advisory Stickers on them or would go to the Blockbuster and rent R-rated movies together (even though Sonny can’t make it five minutes into a movie before he starts yapping or gets restless and suggests they take a 3am walk to 7-Eleven to get snacks and draw dicks on stopsigns). 

When I mentioned in the Logan Fam plotting session that, between being the only son in the family, and having an absentee father and a much-too-present mother, Sonny has some hangups on masculinity and didn’t really have a father/older brother figure in his life, I realize that B was probably joking when she said that “any time sonny had some sort of boy problem, sabrina would drag west to him by the ear like “FIX IT!!”” But. T. Hear me out—  

#tw for dis0rdered eating!!!! it's isolated to one bullet point in his Personality section that's marked with bold print. #cusaintro #no graphic atm because i'm still struggling to find an fc for him that has the right vibe and i dont wanna set this in stone 🗿

[emersonlogan]

🤘  ⁄  skullmeister von wolfblade.​

who: jamie and literally anyone who will talk to him​ what: he was in his dorm room and started feeling existential so now he’s looking for a distraction and saying, like, anything to find it  where: out and about in the quad

It’s not like Jamie had very many belongings to move in from his Van, but somehow trudging them up toward his dorm room - paid for fully with students loans that would surely come back to bite him in the ass -  still felt like sort of a big deal. His first place that was all his own! (Even if it technically was split down the middle with Ted Lewis… and CCU property, but whatever!) It was good enough for Jamie as he shoved his backpack full of clothes into a drawer, and set his guitar in the corner - it was good enough for Jamie as he sat on his bed and bounced just a little. Huh. When was the last time he had slept on an actual mattress and not just the mat that was laid out in his van? 

When was it all going to fall apart, like it always did? 

The thought was a whirlwind. It was a trigger, and it’s fire left him spinning out toward the buzz of the quad and the flurry of people. He needed to find a familiar face - he needed to find a moment of peace. He just needed something. 

“You ever think about how lucky we are to live at the same time as CCU cheerleaders?” Jamie said out loud to no one in particular as he waved a group of girls - out of Uniform, but wholly recognizable! Who wouldn’t know a Fighting Cherry by sight in this little town? - past. “I’d never lay down and invite God to let me suffer, but for one of them…?” 

He smirked. “I’d suffer.” 

At least it’d probably get a reaction out of someone - he was craving it. 

🏴‍☠️

It was Sonny’s nature to gravitate toward the strangest-looking person in any given crowd. As he shuffled his way through a herd of coastal conservative yuppies, a messy mop of curls and a backpack littered with pins and patches of weirdo bands of yore drew him in like a lighthouse. Sonny was excited to see the guy turn to spark a conversation with him, but hearing him waste all of that coolness on the routine Cherry cheerleader worship was a bit of a let-down.

     ❝ Eh, they’re cool. If you’re into cotton candy perfume and Billboard pop.                ’Didn’t really notice them past Professor Van Allen over there. ❞

Mommy issues and a boy’s first MILF fantasies die hard, but he was lying through his teeth. Of course, he spotted Zahra and Elaine and the rest of their pompous pom-pom posse from halfway across campus. He just wasn’t sure how to talk to them yet, and the pit in his stomach every time he heard a familiar laugh was really throwing him off balance. It’s been enough years that all hatchets should feel long buried by now, but as long as everybody’s old secrets were being unearthed, he isn’t sure how to approach his old strained friendships. But a loud, proud Sonny Logan isn’t willing to admit to himself or anybody else that he was feeling meek or nervous for once, so his goal was to keep to his less baggage-ridden relationships for his first couple of weeks back in town, and just coincidentally avoid run-ins with long lost buddies like Cristiano - or, worse, Frankie - until he got his guts in check. 

Desperate to change the subject, he searches his new friend for anything else to talk about - the guy was decked out in nothing but conversation pieces, but what instantly catches his attention are the big brown eyes - which the guy never quite grew into. They were instantly recognizable behind the badass baubles and black leather. He still had the same cherubic face that all of the biggest little bastards on the playground would forever brand as “Lamey,” “Creepazoid Cromwell,” or simply “Freak.”  

                  ❝ Holy shit, dude, Jamie, Jamboree, Crom-o-rama. ❞

He’s having flashbacks of trying out any other nicknames he could for the kid, frantically looking for anything else that would stick before the future quarterbacks could doom him to be “Flamin’ Jamie” for the rest of his life in Cherry. Sonny’s kicking himself for not recognizing him immediately, from his over-animated mannerisms and dramatics alone. 

           ❝ Is it still Jamie with an i-e, or are ya going by, like,                               𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐤𝐞 or Raven or MURDERSPIDER nowadays? ❞

#the linked pin was from jamie's pinterest board! idk why that site makes it hard to redirect to a pin in context of the board so it just #looks like i linked a random person's pin but i swear there was research done to decide what jamie would look like from behind in a crowd #jamiecromwell #still working out a tag system here be patient with me i'm a shmuck :| #also. me humiliatingly googling when american pie came out to decide if identifying astrid as a milf is period appropriate.