lennox fairfax. druid. private investigator. fixer. intro. playlist. photos. interactions.
Peter Solarz
tumblr dot com
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祝日 / Permanent Vacation
noise dept.

#extradirty
NASA
KIROKAZE
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

Product Placement
Not today Justin
Stranger Things

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
One Nice Bug Per Day
i don't do bad sauce passes

titsay
d e v o n
trying on a metaphor

JVL
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@insomnivm
lennox fairfax. druid. private investigator. fixer. intro. playlist. photos. interactions.
depravae:
𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. the midnight sun. 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜. open.
godless ground was never meant to play home to something quite so profound ⎯⎯ club offered as 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮, & no amount of aged amber can DROWN the strange taste it leaves. she - devil knows he’s trying : moment of quietude finds aristide at the bar, pensive when he gazes into bourbon. ( knows he’s not alone, doesn’t seem to mind. ) silence is comfortable until he’s nudging emptied glass forward : ❝ one more, for 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 of us. on the house. ❞ finally, torso shifts / all elegant ripples & defined lines, something almost apologetic flittering at the edges. ❝ a rough day always calls for a drink. ❞
.
“ the first one is good enough for me, but i appreciate it. ” the shake of her hand and head were quick and apologetic to the bartender, with a thankful smile and nod to her would-be drinking partner for the moment... if she were drinking. the glass at her fingertips was short a few sips, equally for the show of it as her outfit was--- a false patron for the location of interest while stalking the true one at a distance. her focus had disappeared into some backroom and here she waited stagnant like the liquid in the glass.
“ what about a day just starting? think that warrants preemptive drinking? think i should be drinking with abandon, ” she added with a nod to his new glass of poison. finally her own drink lifted her lips, met them yet not a drop passed beyond her teeth before she placed it back down. “ looks like you had a rougher day than me. ”
svnctum
Green hues watch in curiosity as words are returned, and he doesn’t reply for a moment or two, just watches as the camera shutter sounds click away in the relatively quiet balcony. There’s a moment of amusement, a small tug of his lips that’s gone before it’s even there, and he turns to the cityscape, squinting a little at the lights. The only sound left is the camera and the crinkling of the end of the cigarette catching fire as he takes a deep drag, and exhales the plume of white smoke into the night air. “I think you also have to be good and they’ll give you wine,” he watches her in curiosity, feeling something that blooms in his chest as he recognises another. It’s not common, but he’s felt it enough to know what it is. But far be it for him to trample into someone else’s discovery moment. “Are you the official event photographer or something?” He’s not chatty, this is abnormal, but he figures that anyone who documents things would have some interesting stories or two. Plus, there is some interest in the purpose of the camera - if not for work, then a hobby, he deduces, and thus another interesting question that picks at him. “It looks like a very bulky hobby, if not.”
.
" if they want to hire me as the official photographer i’m open to negotiate fees but alas, this is my own amusement, a private collection, ” she added before turning the lens in his direction. her finger mimicked an exaggerated press of the button, yet no flash or shutter sound gave way to say she took a capture of his soul without his consent. “ it’s my hobby, bulky or not, ” she continued, lowering it to rest on its strap. “ i could have a heavier piece or a more destructive way to spend my time. ” though given the vibrations, albeit second sense of recognition between the two, no doubt they both had tendencies that could be more destructive if they so chose it... or perhaps that was just her. it resounded an equal curiosity accompanied by unwarranted barricades that made her lips thin and purse as she settled against the balcony. the stonework seemed to spread a cold touch despite the separating fabric, no different to the faces and passersby among the gathering below them in spite of the merriment and festivities. but hells and heavens, churches, all be damned if she couldn’t shake off the chill and misplaced mistrust for a night off she intended to enjoy, if she didn’t try.
“ i could be hiding myself away during a social event which would make for an interesting conundrum all together. good thing neither of us could accuse one another of that, right? officially, my excuse is for the art of the captured moment. what’s yours? ”
svnctum:
st michael’s day event early evening / open
It’s not his style to find himself at events where the masses seem to congregate but the lure of the possible is enough to extract even the likes of Luka from his cave. His introversion is hung up for the evening, and he knows that there is a merit to these things. Magic sizzles from his hands in despondence to his own decisions, and he reaches for the calming cigarette to bring some semblance of calm. It doesn’t come but that doesn’t stop him from finding that spot on the edge of the balustrade of the balcony, hidden half in darkness and half bathed in the sounds from the party to observe the scene of a few partygoers below in the garden. A sound behind him alerts his attention to the fact that he’s not alone and he turns, half a sullen retort on his lips before he stops himself. “I know, I know, it’s a church and this would be an example of me desecrating the place,” he almost rolls his eyes at the comments he’s sure are coming. “But give me a break, yeah? This is fucking dress up party.”
.
despite the cluster of necklaces draped around her neck, an attempt of high fashion for all the rage of an event, there was still a camera attached to her like a piece of life-giving machinery she couldn’t exist without. a night out, for once not in line with work that she could enjoy her photography for the passion of it, capture the glorious outfits and perhaps some embarrassing shots of her date, and hopefully a view of the city in celebration. she temporarily parted ways from her company to go mingle, to get some candid captures, yet her socialness needed a moment to gather again before rejoining into the crowd. she expected someone else on the balcony-- who wouldn’t want a view that made the lights of the city dance across their vision -- but when she made her way to the top, she hadn’t expected the slew of cheek that trickled out before she made a hum.
“ that’s a fair amount of words i didn’t say. ” nor would she say or speak her judgement to so little of an offense, if it truly was one. “ i wouldn’t even know half the etiquette for a church, perhaps be silent and pray. but i don’t think smoking is a desecration more than it is a vice, for whatever that’s worth or what it means, ” she added. her camera lifted into view, a few clicks and then adjustment of settings. “ always thought i’d burn when i’d step into one of these, anyway. ”
------st. michael’s annual festival,
lennox fairfax accompanying dr. jamie “coop” kuiper.
bloodfavored:
location: private investigation offices of lennox fairfax. when: around 11:30pm. who: @insomnivm
the snag about being immortal and needing to drink blood to keep that (aside from needing to drink blood in and of itself) were the rules about invitations. private property needed the invitation of the owner, but public spaces were free reign. permission could be rescinded at any time, but most people were too stupid to realize that a simple oh yes, come in was all they needed. some people were too stupid to remember that they’d said it once in passing, and that it didn’t just apply to their homes. lennox was not stupid, coop would never dare to assume she was, but he knew she had a lot going on at any given time. whether or not she’d studied up on the rules and regulations of her private business and what permissions were needed for a saint to wander in whenever they so pleased was not something coop was concerned with.
not when he’d just walked through the front door and made himself at home, at least.
locks meant little to a man who’d spent a good portion of his new life stealing. by the time the doorknob jiggled in earnest he’d been on his phone, feet up on the private investigator’s desk, in the dark, 200 comments deep on an AITA thread on reddit. “ welcome home, honey. ” he didn’t bother to look up from his screen, the soft light reflected against his features, illuminating the soft glow of his eyes that wasn’t at all unlike a cat. “ i’ve been waiting for hours. tell me you’re not seeing someone else behind my back? ” —the game, a tom and jerry schtick where coop felt as if he was chasing lennox by the tail where the druid eluded him deftly, easily. he could try to seduce her in earnest, but there was no fun in cheating. he’d rather her want him of her own volition, not because of saintly parlor tricks.
“ i missed you. i have work for you. ”
.
work hours for the investigator weren’t always the most average, but then most of the city didn’t abide by normal standards of time either. her best hours, her best clients, appeared in the shadows of the night when minds were desperate for answers, eager to fulfill their most secretive wishes, tired from grief and seeking a late night listener to tell them their problems could be solved. even the occasional wanderer with the poor idea of finding a fun time in the wrong establishment would stumble through her doors before being promptly escorted out. and who was she to say her hours special when most of her associates thrived after sundown and conduct everything else when the city of lights rested its eyes? so to see a figure already relaxed in her office was... yes, still shocking and made the woman jump a few inches in the air when the rasp of his voice reached her ears.
“ even if i were to see someone, they’d have better manners than you. ” it wasn’t the intrusion, that he snuck into her work place before she flipped the open sign, nor was it the knowing curve to his lips that he had startled her that that knitted her brows together as she began unloading her bag and its contents onto the wood top. no. instead her focus immediately shifted to his lounge, so free and unburdened that his shoes somehow were appropriate for her work space. “ feet. off. ” yet despite how biting she tried to make the words, how much she attempted to keep her own lips in a bitter grimace, she couldn’t help the genuine smile creeping underneath it all at his banter.
“ that’s really sweet. and thank you, but i’m not cleaning the dirt you leave on my desk. that’s your responsibility. ”
* † [ tuppence middleton , she/her + cis woman ] : is that LENNOX FAIRFAX wandering around ? under these neon lights i swore they looked like a DRUID, but in actuality they are a FIXER / PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR. the THIRTY FOUR YEAR OLD is known to be CHAOTIC and MISGUIDED, albeit HEAD STRONG and AMBITIOUS. after spending TEN YEARS in sin city, their favourite song to hum is CLOSER by CLANN, though people often associate them with a harsh street lamp discolouring leaves in the night / blood, ash, and honey smeared over pale lips / flowers blooming from a decayed rib cage, dark ichor still seeping from the bone / blackened fingers digging into white wax. † *
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