Logan Johnson stands at a thoroughly unremarkable five-foot-five, though his sheer presence manages to occupy considerably more space than the numbers suggest. Age has settled on him like dust on an old pool hall jukebox... thick, stubborn, and impossible to fully clean away. His face carries the sort of weathered charisma that belongs to men who have spent decades making questionable decisions and somehow surviving all of them. A thinning crown of dark hair clings on with admirable determination, while a heavy mustache does much of the diplomatic work of making him appear more respectable than he actually is.

There is a distinctly disreputable charm about Logan. He smiles too easily, laughs too loudly, and always looks as though he knows exactly where the nearest cheap beer, card game, or bad idea can be found. His eyes possess a permanent glimmer of mischief that walks the narrow line between endearing and concerning.

His build is comfortably rotund. A broad, soft gut precedes him into most rooms by a second or two, straining the buttons of shirts that were likely purchased several waist sizes ago and never replaced out of either thrift or optimism. The belly hangs heavily, giving him the appearance of a man who has never once declined a second helping if a third was available.

Below the waist, Logan is similarly difficult to ignore. Nature saw fit to equip him rather generously, and age has done little to diminish the prominence of his anatomy. Combined with his shorter stature and ample midsection, it lends him an oddly memorable silhouette - one of those physical details people notice immediately and then politely pretend not to have noticed at all.

The overall impression is that of a man who peaked several times in entirely different and equally dubious ways. He's rumpled, worn around the edges, and perpetually one step away from being asked to leave a respectable establishment. Yet somehow, against all reason, people often find themselves liking him anyway.

~OOC~

Lights:
Whites: Amusing conversations, collisions of desire and activity, good food, good drink and good company. Open lewdness, and appreciation of rumpled charm.

Greens: Pregnancy, Impregnation, Facefucking, anal, eating cunt, slapping his fat gut atop a woman's ass and going to town on her. Getting high, getting off. Being in control. Hearing you beg for it. Bondage, roughness, marking. Watersports, especially if enthusiastically received.

Reds: Pointless PvP, white knights