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@finlaylevenson
(Brian Dietzen / 35 / Genderfluid+he/any pronouns) Finlay Levenson has been in Eden Ros for 26 years, and is from New York, New York, U.S.A. He is 35 and works at Lone Wolf Detective Agency as a private investigator. Rumor has it, he’s a werewolf associated with The Underground as the Chariot. He is selfless and level-headed, but also temperamental and stubborn. - (Bec / 24 / CST / none)
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who: open! where: lone wolf detective agency when: early june, pre-solstice jubilee (your choice of morning or evening hours!)
Consulting hours were one of the more challenging parts of the job. As a one-man operation, he had to balance getting actual work done with being open to more potential work. A good number of clients opted for scheduling a time with him; but he still had enough walk-in business for it to be worth constraining himself to his office.
At least there was always paperwork to be done in the meantime - he needed something to keep him occupied. Answering emails, running online searches, handling business paperwork... it all needed done, and this devoted office time gave him a set time every week to chip away at it. Not quite the excitement that people imagined from P.I. work, but equally important to the more thrilling bits.
He stood up and walked over to the small hot-drinks table. He kept a coffee maker and an electric kettle around, both for his own benefit & for the comfort of his customers. He filled the reservoir and scooped some grounds into a fresh filter, then turned the machine on. It growled to life and began heating the water. Slowly, water began to filter through & drip coffee into the pot below.
Just as he grabbed a mug from the shelf under the table, he heard the door open. "Welcome to Lone Wolf Detective Agency," he said, turning his head to catch a glance at the visitor. "Feel free to take a seat across from the desk, I'll be with you in just a moment."
[open starter] where: solstice festival market, humble bumble booth when: any time during market hours
Elyse actually hadn't worked a regular shift at her job since her parents... died. (Well, they did! Even if she had a hand in getting them there.) Bereavement leave and all that. Her fragile state was merely a symptom of the shock and the tragedy. Never-fucking-mind the fact she apparently wasn't and had never been human in her life, despite still looking and feeling the part. Did you have to be human to sell honey? She'd find out today.
The owner of the Humble Bumble insisted on letting her continue to rest, but Elyse decided against her better judgment to take the booth for the afternoon. "It'll be good to be around... people. Again," she said, unconvincingly.
So here they were, with the people. And the honey. Hoping people would rather take a sample and gum up their mouths than ask too many questions, look too hard at the clerk like her face might fall off and reveal some horrible shadow entity. A tedious smile cracked across her lips as Elyse dug herself out of her thoughts to engage the passersby.
"Try some honey? It's local, organic, and comes in multiple different flavors."
The voice caught his attention as he passed by the booth. (Oh, Humble Bumble. I've been meaning to pick up some more honey.) Finlay stepped up to the table, keeping a hand on Olivia as she slept against his chest. "Anything new?" He asked, looking over the jars on display.
He'd long since come to terms that being active in one contained area meant that he would see familiar faces. Though he'd frequented the store above far more frequently these last few years, he wasn't unfamiliar with the location below it. Finlay was a bit hesitant around her for a different reason, now. He'd heard about Elyse's loss — having an ear to the ground for incidents in town kept him well-informed on these things. It was a tricky line to dance between appropriate sympathy and dragging up a difficult subject.
"It's good to see you," he settled on. There. His best attempt at being warm, without going for a potential nerve. He'd been in a similar place before, and few things had aggravated him more than the constant reminder of what his life was now missing.
who: @trinkets-and-laurels where: the solistice jubilee at bheagain beach when: a little after lunch time
As he expected, Olivia was out like a light after lunch. And perhaps a better parent would've headed straight home, to get her into cozier, warmer clothes and tucked into bed, but...
(She sleeps like a rock. Her suit is practically dry, and she's got the towel. If playing in the ocean for hours didn't have an impact, she'll be fine if we stay a bit longer.)
He at least wanted a glance at the booths before they left — he didn't plan on buying anything, but it was always nice to see the local places. Maybe he'd find somewhere new to check out in town. Olivia was secure, sat comfortably in the sling and was further supported by one of his hands. She stayed cuddled against his chest as he walked along the market booths, just looking over each ones offerings.
The large tenting over one of the booths caught his attention. He stepped closer to look at the items scattered over all available surfaces. Knick-knacks, little trinkets... not quite his own taste (what's the point of many small, little things to keep track of?), but they were still fun to look at. Reminiscent, too, of the things his uncle enjoyed collecting. (Always a story for everything, and he had loved to tell them.)
Abruptly, he realized someone had said something to him. He looked up from the teapot he had been examining. "Sorry, uhm. What did you say?"
He wasn’t able to keep a laugh in as Fin had to grab the back of his kid’s puddle jumper to keep her from rushing towards Angel.
“Yeah, I’m offering. It’s this or a free coffee at the diner, and my co-owner’s already being a pain in my a-” He cut himself off from cursing again, glancing at the girl still trying to wriggle out of her father’s arms to get to Angel, basically mirroring the way Angel was starting to give those big puppy-dog eyes to be allowed to be showered with attention from new people. “Uh. He’s mad about me giving out too much free stuff to people. Better to pay with my own money than cut off some from the diner, yeah?”
He didn’t turn away as he spoke, nodding towards the line for cocoa without having to look away and rely on what little he might be able to pick up over the general mess of noise that was this beach
“I’m Lucas. And this is Angel. You don’t have to worry, she’s good with kids, you can pet her if you want.” He directed that last bit to the kid. “What’s your name?”
He raised his eyebrows as the man narrowly dodged another swear word, amused and vindicated. (Isn’t it hard to break the habit?) “I guess I can’t argue with that. Besides, we won’t be leaving here for awhile, and I need coffee.”
Maybe if he were younger, and more sore & bitter, he would’ve dismissed the offer entirely and moved along as quickly as he could. Even the nicest hunters were still hunters, after all, and there was always risk in making any more than the barest of conversation. Finlay had learned to relax over the years, though. As long as they weren't one of the Order nuts, he could make conversation.
(Besides, why not enjoy the view while you can?)
Lucas, he mouthed, after the man said it. (I was close.) He didn’t even have to look at his daughter to know she was near overwhelmed with excitement about the dog. Still, she held it together enough to say, “I’m Olivia. I am…” she paused, scrunched up her face, and looked up at her dad.
He gave her a little nod. “You know it.”
She looked down at her hand and slowly raised her fingers. She stopped at three, then looked back at him. He gave her another nod, and she held up her hand at Lucas. “Three!” She proclaimed, before turning back to Finlay. “I wanna pet the dog, da!” Olivia said, with all the urgency she could muster.
"Okay, remember, be gentle," he said, setting her back on the ground.
As soon as her feet made contact with the sand, she rushed over to Angel. "Hi doggy!" she said, and immediately attempted to hug her.
closed starter for @finlaylevenson where: Bheagain Beach/Vendor's Market during the solstice festival when: noonish
Despite the fact there would be better lighting in the afternoon, Charlie insisted on getting footage during the day so her afternoon could be spent swimming and playing in the sand in the hours before the bonfire. They'd already worked the plans out -- film first, and when the Mosses went to take Star home for the afternoon, she'd drop her camera off and it would be time to play then. Not before.
Charlie was being particularly secretive, not telling Morgan what project it was she needed "b-roll of waves" and "beach crowd shots" for. Mother Moss did want to remind her daughter about talent releases for unwitting strangers, but since whatever this short film was wouldn't be making its way to Sundance, she let it slide.
Star was about finished in the sand as well, shaking her ears and kicking her back paws. Sprinkles of sand showered Morgan's sandals. "I know, Charlie's almost done," the woman mused, looking around and spotting a flash of pink amid a rustling towel. Morgan smiled, recognizing the man standing above the little bundle.
"Hey, Finlay!" They weren't terribly familiar, but he was in the neighborhood where Rosie's was. She'd seen him around. She hadn't seen the child. "Who is this cutie?"
Whenever Finlay thought he understood the energy levels of toddlers, he was vastly mistaken. Nearly five hours of swimming and playing had only been broken up by a few breaks, most at his insistence. There'd been a few points in the morning where he'd sat on the beach and watched her splash around at the edge of the water. She was winding down, though, and lunch was a pit stop on the way to the upcoming naptime that would keep her down for a few hours.
The puddle jumper could finally come off, having put in its service more than enough for today. He helped her dry off with a towel, squeezing it around her and rubbing down wet & sandy arms & legs. “You think about what you want for lunch,” he said, before the sound of his name pricked his ears.
He recognized the face (Moss. …Morgan. Local pub owner. Human.), though he couldn’t say they’d spoken much. “Morgan, hi,” he said, as he wrapped the towel around his daughter’s shoulders. Seeing the dog with her, he made sure to keep a hand on Olivia to stop her from making a run for it. "This is, uh, my daughter."
(That's obvious. You're supposed to include her name.)
Olivia looked up at Morgan. "I'm Olivia! I am three years old," she said, holding up three fingers. "I wanna pet the dog!"
"Olivia, how do we ask?" She looked back at him, and he prompted her, "Can I..."
"Can I pet the dog!" She yelled, looking back up at Morgan.
(Progress is progress.) He smiled faintly at Morgan. "She gets really excited about animals. We're... working on remembering to ask."
Click to view
Click to view
Finlay : Olivia
(wolf dad & his ocean pup)
“Okay— Olivia, you have to stop moving before I can set you down.” She kept squirming around, so he secured his hold on her and waited for the movement to die down. After a minute of no success in breaking free, she finally gave up. Finlay gave her a peck on the cheek and set her down on her feet, finding the end of her leash before standing back up. “There we go. Ready?”
when: a spring weekend where: a grocery store
“Is cold, daddy!”
“Yes, it is.” Finlay unbuckled Olivia from her car seat and picked her up out of the car. He supported her weight with an arm as he shut the door and locked the vehicle. “Do you want to walk, or do you want me to carry you?”
She wiggled in his arms, which was really answer enough on its own. “Walk!”
“Okay— Olivia, you have to stop moving before I can set you down.” She kept squirming around, so he secured his hold on her and waited for the movement to die down. After a minute of no success in breaking free, she finally gave up. Finlay gave her a peck on the cheek and set her down on her feet, finding the end of her leash before standing back up. “There we go. Ready?” The leash and harness were the only things letting him let her walk around anywhere like a parking lot — it stunted her frequent attempts to run off.
She grinned and took off, immediately testing the extent of her freedom. Finlay followed close behind, and shortened the slack as a car pulled down the aisle. She kept running forward toward the store. As she reached the front of the parked row of cars, he tugged back gently on the leash.
“Olivia,” he called out, “stop and wait for me, please.”
He paused for a moment. She stopped in place and looked back at him. Finlay hurried up alongside her and stopped as well, reaching down to take her hand in his.
“Do you see any cars coming?” He asked.
Olivia turned her head from side to side and loudly proclaimed, “No cars!”
Finlay glanced both ways to double check that, then nodded and stepped forward. “Good job,” he said, as they crossed the final strip of parking lot to get to the entrance. “We have to make sure there’s no cars coming so we—“
“—don’ get hurt!” She chimed in, gleefully finishing his sentence.
He squeezed her hand as they stepped through the doors and let go. He pulled a cart from the row and set his bag down in it. “Are you ready to take a seat?”
“Uhuh!” She stretched her arms up, and Finlay scooped her up, settling her into the seat with practiced precision. She stayed still long enough for that, but started pulling at her jacket zipper once she was seated. He just watched quietly as she managed to pull it down and open the jacket. After a half-minute of trying to tug it off, she huffed and threw her arms out. “Need help, daddy.”
“You got it,” he said. Finlay helped her out of the jacket, and draped it over the bag once it was off. “Good job trying it yourself. It’s tougher sitting down.” With her settled, he pushed forward into the store.
As they moved out of the entrance, Olivia groaned and covered her face with her hands. Finlay reached into the bag and fished out a tiny set of sunglasses. He nudged them gently against her hand. Eyes squinched shut, she reached out and grabbed them. Little hands fumbled with the glasses as she clumsily opened them and slid them onto her face. Finlay nudged them up the bridge of her nose the tiniest bit, and she blinked her eyes back open.
“Better?” He asked, as they rolled into the produce section.
She nodded. “Not bight,” she said, and settled a hand on top of one of his as it rested on the handle. Olivia didn’t do well with those bright fluorescent lights, and the sunglasses had been an easy enough solution to helping her keep calm. With that settled, though, she reached out at Finlay expectantly. “List, daddy.”
He reached into the bag again and pulled out the grocery list, passing it over to her. He didn’t used to write everything out, but it’d become routine for her to hold onto the list as they shopped. Though she couldn’t read, she still looked over his writing as he came to a stop in front of a fruit display. He snagged a mesh produce bag out from his bag and filled it with a selection of apples. He settled it into the cart, and pulled out another bag to hold a few stalks of rhubarb. “Do you want any other fruit?” Finlay asked her, leaning against the handle. “There’s oranges and strawberries.”
“Stawberries,” Olivia said, as though she were reading off the grocery list.
“Good choice.” He pushed the cart down the aisle and picked up a carton of strawberries. Giving them a sniff and a quick glance, he set them down in the cart. “Now, let’s get some vegetables, too.”
“Cabbige!”
“…yeah, cabbage.” He couldn’t complain that his daughter was absolutely obsessed with a vegetable, but it was no less perplexing. “We need carrots, spring greens, and radishes, too.”
“Hmmm… okay.” She didn’t sound too thrilled by the rest of those.
Finlay rolled up to the display of vegetables, stopping by the pile of cabbages. “Point to the one you want, Livvy,” he said. She looked over the mound of cabbages carefully, taking her time to make her choice. She finally pointed at one off to the side of the pile. Finlay settled his hand against it. “This one?”
“Yes!”
He eased it out of the pile, keeping the rest from shifting too much in its absence, and held it up for her to look at. “Wanna give it a smell?” He asked.
She reached out and grabbed onto it, then very seriously smelled the cabbage. “Is good!” She exclaimed, trying to pull it closer. Finlay let her take it, and she settled it in her lap as he moved the cart down the way to pick up the rest of the vegetables on their list.
“That should be it for produce,” he said. “Ready for the rest?”
Olivia nodded. “Chicken nugget?” She asked, as he pushed the cart along.
“Yeah, we'll get some more chicken nuggets.” They worked their way through aisles of the store, gradually knocking off items on the list (and grabbing a few things that weren’t originally included). Olivia got a say in her snack choices for the next few weeks, though nothing drew quite as much enthusiasm as the cabbage still lovingly cradled in her arms. Some ingredients and staples for the cupboard; another gallon of milk; juice; anything Finlay had noted them being low or out of. His aunt called him meticulous, but she couldn’t complain much when it kept her pantry properly stocked.
Olivia’s attention waned and wavered as they wove their way through the store; by the time they rolled into the checkout line, she was slumped over, head resting on the cabbage in her lap. Her posture read more impending nap than impending tantrum, at least.
He leaned against the handle as they waited for the line to move. “Are you sleepy, Liv?” He asked, softly.
“Yes,” came the muffled reply. “Wanna go home.”
“We’ll be out of here in…” he glanced up at the line before them, calculating how long this would be. “Five minutes, I think.”
“Tha’s so long,” she mumbled. A nap seemed more and more likely by the minute. Finlay watched her doze off as they gradually pulled up to the check-out. He unloaded the rest of the groceries, and had the clerk type in the cabbage. He paid and loaded the cart up, heading back out through the automatic doors.
Olivia stayed sleeping as they rolled out of the store and back to the car; he had to carefully pry the head of cabbage from her hands before he could move her to her car seat, safe & secure for the trip home. She stirred and stretched. Finlay picked a forlorn stuffed animal off the car floor and offered it to her. She pulled it into her arms with a small sigh, holding it as tightly as the car seat would let her.
He closed the rear door and got into the driver’s seat. He allowed himself a moment to relax against the seat and take a deep breath before starting the car up.
(Olivia’s going to nap for at least an hour once we’re back home. Aunt Juliet’s got dinner handled, so I can get at least a little paperwork done in the meantime.)
Finlay started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. In every glance in the rearview mirror on their way home, Olivia stayed fast asleep, slowly losing her hold on the stuffed animal. It finally hit the car floor with a gentle thud. Probably how it’d found itself there the first time.
(Note: bring that thing inside and give it a good wash.)
Back at the house, he was sure to bring Olivia in first. He slipped her shoes off and tucked her into bed, gently sliding a round bird plush into her arms. With her settled, he resumed putting away groceries. Everything found its place, and his aunt stepped into the kitchen right as he finished up with the pantry.
“Olivia’s down for a nap,” he said. “I’ve got some work to take care of in the meantime.”
She nodded and waved him off, and he obediently cleared out of the kitchen to let her handle dinner. It wasn’t like he couldn’t cook, but he knew better than to get in the way. He checked in on Olivia again, glancing into her room to make sure she was still there. She was, and he gently shut the door.
Finlay settled at his desk with a small sigh and opened up his laptop. (Parenting and personal life handled for the meantime. Time to get to work.)
“Nah, that was all me, shouldn’t have been walking backwards.” He pressed his lips together to keep from laughing as the man’s kid accidentally kicked his head, immediately having to whistle to stop Angel from jumping out to sniff the new people.
A closer look revealed that they weren’t new, exactly. He'd seen the man around, had a couple of his business cards shoved in a drawer somewhere, Lone Wolf Investigations, and he’d come into the diner a few times with his kid for their weekend specials. He wouldn’t call him a regular, but he seemed to be on his way towards it, enough that Lucas managed to summon his name from the back of his mind. “You’re... Fin, right? Lone Wolf guy?”
Well. He’d knocked the man over, cursed in front of his kid, and watched him (very lightly) get kicked while he was down, the least he could do is offer to pay for whatever he was getting in line for. He nodded towards the line for hot drinks. “Want me to cover whatever you’re getting? As an apology.”
Olivia's eyes lit up when she saw the dog, and Finlay had to grab her by the back of her puddle jumper to keep her from running over to it. "Honey, remember - if they're not our pets, we give them space," he told her. Just to be safe, he slung the bag over one shoulder and scooped her up in the other arm.
She looked absolutely betrayed by this reminder, but didn't complain about being picked up. "Jus' wanna say hi," she said, sadly.
"We don't do that by running at them," he replied. As the other man said his name, he looked back up at him. "Yeah, uh... that's me." Despite the several time he'd seen the man's name tag at the diner, he was blanking on the name still.
(...huh. You don't have to agree with the ethics of hunting to see that it clearly agrees with him.)
"...you'll have to remind me of your name," he said. And despite his instinct to turn down the offer, Finlay had worked hard to not swear in front of his daughter. (Even if it's a little funny when kids swear, Juliet will kill me.) "I got the last name, easy to remember from the diner. But I will take you up on that, actually, if you're offering."
@leather-and-grease
Finlay : Lucas
(A wolf and a hunter walk into a bar…)
⚲ | Kinrigg Building — South Borough — Eden Ros, Scotland
◴ | Posted office open hours (Note: Always closed evenings before & mornings after a full moon)
Monday: 9am—1pm Tuesday: 9pm—1am Wednesday: Closed Thursday: 9am—1pm Friday: 9pm—1am
For all the standard PI needs, consider hiring the Lone Wolf. This agency offers services from background checks to missing persons investigations, and much more in-between. Schedule a meeting or stop by open office hours to open your case today!
Where the reach of the law falls short, the Lone Wolf steps up to bridge the gap. Whether it's hunters on the prowl or supernaturals turned on their own, services are available to members & affiliates of the supernatural community* to help. Schedule a meeting or stop by open office hours to open your case today!
*Note: Exclusions may apply. Lone Wolf Detective Agency reserves the right to turn down any case inquiries for any reason.
Finlay Levenson (he/any)
Werewolf | The Underground
P.I., parent, & too tired to be putting up with hunter bullshit.
Who: Open When: Morning Dip, Summer Solstice Festival
One thing Lucas will probably never get used to is how cold Scotland summers were. Back home around this time of year, he’d probably be laying on his floor with all the windows open, trying to tempt in a nonexistent breeze to make up for a long-dead AC. Now, he was shivering a bit as he stepped out of the water, grateful for a towel from one of the event volunteers, and looking around to find the coffee setup, or where he’d left his brother standing with Angel on her leash, whichever he might find first. Jumping from Bonny Bay instead of the beach was a good choice, at least, the swim to make it to the right part of the shore to join the rest of the festival had done a good job of keeping him from freezing completely, but still. Yikes.
Towel around his shoulders and his dog at his side, he took a second to survey the coffee line, weighing his own impatience against the increasingly long wait. Nah. He could get all the free coffee he wanted back at the diner, and, more importantly, clothes a little warmer than swim trunks on a freezing cold beach.
He stepped back, not looking where he was going and immediately paying the price as he knocked over a person who had been crossing behind him. He turned, holding out a hand to try to keep the person from falling, or at the very least minimize the damage by helping them up, “Oh, shit, sorry! Didn’t see you there.”
(The things we do for love.)
Finlay was not up and at the beach at 7 in the morning for any personal drive to participate in this morning dip. He was here, in swim trunks and a t-shirt (both now wet and cold), at the insistence of a toddler. One so obsessed with swimming that it'd taken twenty minutes of coaxing & promises of hot cocoa to get her to take a break from the chilly water.
"Yes, you can swim some more after cocoa," he said, en route to the coffee line. "Are you sure you've got the bag?"
"Mhm!" Olivia exclaimed. She was certainly determined to carry it, even with the limitations of her puddle jumper. "I got it."
(Wonder where she got her stubbornness from.)
"If you're sure — Livvy, can you see where you're walking?"
She huffed and wrapped her arms tighter around the small beach bag. " 'm fine, da!"
He looked down at her. "I'm just making sure, Liv, it's important that you can see where you're—"
That was, of course, the perfect time for someone to run into him. Already a bit off-kilter from leaning over to check on his daughter, Finlay lost his balance and fell, managing to land without taking her down with him.
Ouch.
Adding insult to injury, he recognized that voice; seeing the face a second later brought the name to mind. (Dumont. Luke? L... something. Local hunter [not the Order]). A tiny foot accidentally kicked the side of his head as Olivia turned around & shuffled over to look at him. "It's fine," Finlay said, sitting up. "I.. wasn't really looking either." He got to his feet and brushed his hands against his legs, trying to wipe the sand off of them.
And this bright star Having traced its parabola With inexpressible speed Through immeasurable space Seems suddenly To have stopped Like an arrow piercing the earth Stopped for me It seems to me That this comet Feels me Feels my softened and uplifted soul And my newly melted heart Now blossoming Into a new life — "The Great Comet of 1812”; Natasha, Pierre, & the Great Comet of 1812
