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A character or plot proposal in the works... pulling inspiration from Jacob's Ladder, In the Mouth of Madness, Angel Heart, Cronos, RFAD, Oldboy, and The Shape of Water. Yes, it goin be a beefy boi
⠀Lennox D. Fraser
This is The Lennox Archive.
//Quick update; I still remember this lil ol' guy but Lennox was birthed from the bowels of a dark, dark state of mind at the time. Beauty had come in the form of this darkness in my writing. Yet, this was a hinge I eventually used to drive my other characters to a happier ending, leveraging their pain of loss and failure, and the internal battle of choice (good vs evil), to show how grateful they can be with the little they may have.
If you're reading this and want to get something going with him, I can embrace that dark flavour again. It doesn't have to be a whirlwind romance, even I don't think that would go the distance with this particular OC, but something like The Fall starring Jamie Dornan. I liked that show. Or Hannibal. Just a jolly good murderer having to reluctantly work with or indulge in playing the cat and mouse game with his upstanding but flawed LE/Detective adversary. Hope can be a powerful emotion and tool in this kind of storyline.
Drop me a line yeah?//
— ❝ Lennox Dean Fraser ❞
I.
基本
BASICS.
࿊ Nickname(s). Knox / Fraser
࿊ Preferred Name : Dean
࿊ Alias(es) : 'Noctis'
࿊ Age : (21-25)
࿊ Species : Human
࿊ D.O.B. : ???
࿊ P.O.B. : Glasgow, Scotland
࿊ Gender : Cisgender male
࿊ Nationality. Scottish/British
࿊ Orientations. Heterosexual, heteromantic
࿊ Spoken Language(s). Scottish Gaelic, English
࿊ Family. Mother - Isla Fraser (neé Aitken) (deceased) | Father - Alasdair Fraser (deceased)
II.
服装
GUISE.
࿊ Eyes: Gunmetal blue
࿊ Hair: Dark brown; sides cut short, longer and wavy on top
࿊ Height: 6 foot
࿊ Weight: 180 lbs
࿊ Body Build: Mesomorph
III.
気質 | 好き
DISPOSITION/PENCHANTS.
࿊ Hobbies & Talents:
Lennox's main hobby is murder. This is something that would surprise the average person, although it is the one thing that he does continuously for his enjoyment. So whilst murder may not count entirely as a hobby, he has counted it as one because he believes that it's done enough to be considered one in his case.
As for his talents? Lennox is extremely talented at manipulating others. Lennox has always been good at gaining sympathy, and as he grew he began to master the art of manipulation, using this to his advantage when gathering victims. A lot of the people that Lennox lures in are unaware that he is predatory, and they often get led in blindly. Lennox is aware of his talent, and uses it to his benefit. Without being able to manipulate others, he wouldn’t be as lucky as he is when gathering victims.
࿊ Likes:
Lennox doesn't like many things, in fact, his dislikes most likely outweigh the very few things he does like. Some may believe that he wouldn't like anything, in light of his pessimistic nature, yet there are things that he does enjoy. For one, Lennox enjoys seeing others in pain or discomfort, specifically caused by him. One of the reasons that he is so entranced with murder is because he knows that the pain his victims feels, and the fear that they experience is caused by him, which brings joy.
࿊ Dislikes:
Opposed to that, he dislikes being undermined. Lennox was often told he was worthless as a child, and once he grew he had grown a resentment for anybody that degraded him. Lennox has no tolerance for being seen as lesser than, and holds grudges against people that do undermine him.
࿊ Personality:
In a public setting, Lennox is very polite and generous. He does his best to seem like a model citizen, somebody that anyone around is unsuspecting of, one who no one would expect to be a murderer. In this state he rarely gets provoked, and happens to be very popular amongst the populace, meaning that not much suspicion has risen about him. But when Lennox is acting as he usually does, he is filled with a bloodlust. He won't care for the well-being of his victims, relishing in their very suffering before they succumb to death. When irked, Lennox breaks things and/or punishes whoever provoked him by hurting them in whichever way he thinks will work, and be painful enough. In a genuinely good mood, which is once in a blue moon, Lennox is usually very passive, and still gruff.
IIII.
要約版
ABRIDGED BACKGROUND.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
· • ⸰ ° ❝For years I have known more than what flesh and blood can bear.
You must know, what cannot be cured must be endured. And so I kill.❞
Lennox Dean Fraser grew up in a catastrophically loveless environment, in a house that could hardly have been called a home — sucked dry of any emotions bordering on affection by his parents Iwan Fraser and Aoife Dùghlas. At the tender age of eight, it was made known to the little boy by the slip of a relative's tongue that Iwan had raped his mother Aoife in hopes to conceive a baby boy, which was him. Knox confronted his father on this, and most regretfully angered the man. Subsequently that night, he suffered a series of whips which would only begin the traumatic parts of his childhood: Any inquiries or fond touches upon the flagellation scars across his back will bring him back to that night and further dim his already crushed conscience. And God help the one physically nearest to him.
Growing up, his mother bore the brunt of his father's abuse. It was a thing that confused him— how could one love another that hurt them? Whenever Iwan came home after a bottle too many, he'd go straight to their master bedroom and undress, expecting Aoife to pleasure him as if it were her marital duty for each night. On some evenings, Iwan would make Lennox watch, adding one more whip each time the boy would look away. And he had looked away several, several times. The following mornings, his mother would be in the kitchen without fail, already cooking breakfast for a man whose heart was hollowed out with coldness.
School was not a matter of discussion. Born in Glasgow, Scotland, it was far and away a rough neighbourhood in which he’d been born: thievery, murder and rape was by large a more common thing than planes and working electric lights at the time, and not necessarily in that order. Ergo, Lennox lived a sheltered life for the most part. Only when accompanied with Iwan or Aoife was he allowed to wander out, and even then, his parents either kept him on a figurative leash, as one would a dog. Otherwise, being left locked inside the house no more different than a neglected dog, made him feel very, very lonely.
Amongst other things, the dinner table was a forbidden place for Aoife and Lennox, made such by Iwan; to which the mother would explain that the man was only facing trouble and stress at work, as if it were the one thing justifiable for the act of the harsh treatments toward Lennox. One night, when Iwan had gone out drinking, the mother and son sat at the very table, the need for permission from the Master of the household slipping from Aoife’s mind. As fate would have it, Iwan came back, having forgotten something—Lennox couldn’t remember pinpoint exactly what, but he recalled the actions that had happened then, when Iwan’s eyes had seemed to gone deathly dark, the intensity in the lines and wrinkles in areas turned harsh and his face reddening in sheer ire, and the boy had the scars on his right hand that whispered of the story—
—in all his rage, the man had cuffed Aoife across the face; or in an attempt to, smashed the bottle of tequila he grasped upon his son’s hand. Aoife stood, stunned, watching for a minute, then finally intervened when her husband began beating Lennox. Lennox had made a punch at him, and if it weren’t for that mere display of disrespect, Iwan, per his words, would have desisted from anything else. The boy missed, of course, then his target had laughed and demonstrated to him what a punch really was. Pushing Iwan away and surprising herself with her newfound courage, Aoife dragged the boy into his room, telling him to lock the door and that everything was going to be okay. It hadn’t been, especially not for her. The screams that echoed throughout the house ascribed to that.
...
Having cried and whimpered himself into slumber, Lennox awakened the following morning before the sun had fully risen, awakened to the haunting sound of an unfamiliar voice prior to a few knocks on his door. The voice was rough, a male’s, but certainly not his father’s. He didn’t open the door. The voice drawled, making all of the hairs on Lennox’s neck stand up:
“Things will be okay now.”
And at that, he heard footsteps receding, like a wave of the tide drawing back, settling the ocean into placidity—as it should, after the storm.
But, per the man’s words, all had not been as such. C
· • ⸰ ° ❝Look into my eyes, and see the remnants of a sentiment there. A sentiment for flesh.❞
---
Lennox was a sheltered, and well - behaved child. His father would rarely let him outside of his home besides attending school, and this is when most of the psychological abuse took place. Lennox’s father was very harsh on both him and his mother, going as far as to not allow them to eat at the same table as he did when they would ‘enjoy’ their rather cheap meals. Lennox’s family was not doing below average when it came to income, but Lennox found out at around ten years old that his father was in charge of their balance, and he would only spend the money on cheap items for his mother and him, buying expensive things such as cigarettes for himself with the money that was left after he supplied his family with ‘groceries’. This had originally bothered Lennox, but, he soon realized that he didn’t have much of a choice.
Lennox has a few specific memories during his childhood, one being the time that his father had returned home early to his mother and him eating at the large table, the table they’d been forbidden to sit at. The night was filled by the exchange of pained cries from both of them, and Lennox was very quick to learn that he should always obey his father. That night is especially memorable to him because of a dent in the corner of the table where Lennox’s father had thrown a plate which had chipped the table, and only dealt fuelled his anger further than it already was. Lennox was forced to clean the glass quickly with his bare hands, causing him to receive some small and deep cuts from his hands shaking in fear, he still has scars from the event if you examine his hands closely enough.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
//Quick update; I still remember this lil ol' guy but Lennox was birthed from the bowels of a dark, dark state of mind at the time. Beauty had come in the form of this darkness in my writing. Yet, this was a hinge I eventually used to drive my other characters to a happier ending, leveraging their pain of loss and failure, and the internal battle of choice (good vs evil), to show how grateful they can be with the little they may have.
If you're reading this and want to get something going with him, I can embrace that dark flavour again. It doesn't have to be a whirlwind romance, even I don't think that would go the distance with this particular OC, but something like The Fall starring Jamie Dornan. I liked that show. Or Hannibal. Just a jolly good murderer having to reluctantly work with or indulge in playing the cat and mouse game with his upstanding but flawed LE/Detective adversary. Hope can be a powerful emotion and tool in this kind of storyline.
Drop me a line yeah?//
— ❝ Lennox Dean Fraser ❞
I.
基本
BASICS.
࿊ Nickname(s). Knox / Fraser
࿊ Preferred Name : Dean
࿊ Alias(es) : 'Noctis'
࿊ Age : (21-25)
࿊ Species : Human
࿊ D.O.B. : ???
࿊ P.O.B. : Glasgow, Scotland
࿊ Gender : Cisgender male
࿊ Nationality. Scottish/British
࿊ Orientations. Heterosexual, heteromantic
࿊ Spoken Language(s). Scottish Gaelic, English
࿊ Family. Mother - Isla Fraser (neé Aitken) (deceased) | Father - Alasdair Fraser (deceased)
II.
服装
GUISE.
࿊ Eyes: Gunmetal blue
࿊ Hair: Dark brown; sides cut short, longer and wavy on top
࿊ Height: 6 foot
࿊ Weight: 180 lbs
࿊ Body Build: Mesomorph
III.
気質 | 好き
DISPOSITION/PENCHANTS.
࿊ Hobbies & Talents:
Lennox's main hobby is murder. This is something that would surprise the average person, although it is the one thing that he does continuously for his enjoyment. So whilst murder may not count entirely as a hobby, he has counted it as one because he believes that it's done enough to be considered one in his case.
As for his talents? Lennox is extremely talented at manipulating others. Lennox has always been good at gaining sympathy, and as he grew he began to master the art of manipulation, using this to his advantage when gathering victims. A lot of the people that Lennox lures in are unaware that he is predatory, and they often get led in blindly. Lennox is aware of his talent, and uses it to his benefit. Without being able to manipulate others, he wouldn’t be as lucky as he is when gathering victims.
࿊ Likes:
Lennox doesn't like many things, in fact, his dislikes most likely outweigh the very few things he does like. Some may believe that he wouldn't like anything, in light of his pessimistic nature, yet there are things that he does enjoy. For one, Lennox enjoys seeing others in pain or discomfort, specifically caused by him. One of the reasons that he is so entranced with murder is because he knows that the pain his victims feels, and the fear that they experience is caused by him, which brings joy.
࿊ Dislikes:
Opposed to that, he dislikes being undermined. Lennox was often told he was worthless as a child, and once he grew he had grown a resentment for anybody that degraded him. Lennox has no tolerance for being seen as lesser than, and holds grudges against people that do undermine him.
࿊ Personality:
In a public setting, Lennox is very polite and generous. He does his best to seem like a model citizen, somebody that anyone around is unsuspecting of, one who no one would expect to be a murderer. In this state he rarely gets provoked, and happens to be very popular amongst the populace, meaning that not much suspicion has risen about him. But when Lennox is acting as he usually does, he is filled with a bloodlust. He won't care for the well-being of his victims, relishing in their very suffering before they succumb to death. When irked, Lennox breaks things and/or punishes whoever provoked him by hurting them in whichever way he thinks will work, and be painful enough. In a genuinely good mood, which is once in a blue moon, Lennox is usually very passive, and still gruff.
IIII.
要約版
ABRIDGED BACKGROUND.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
· • ⸰ ° ❝For years I have known more than what flesh and blood can bear.
You must know, what cannot be cured must be endured. And so I kill.❞
Lennox Dean Fraser grew up in a catastrophically loveless environment, in a house that could hardly have been called a home — sucked dry of any emotions bordering on affection by his parents Iwan Fraser and Aoife Dùghlas. At the tender age of eight, it was made known to the little boy by the slip of a relative's tongue that Iwan had raped his mother Aoife in hopes to conceive a baby boy, which was him. Knox confronted his father on this, and most regretfully angered the man. Subsequently that night, he suffered a series of whips which would only begin the traumatic parts of his childhood: Any inquiries or fond touches upon the flagellation scars across his back will bring him back to that night and further dim his already crushed conscience. And God help the one physically nearest to him.
Growing up, his mother bore the brunt of his father's abuse. It was a thing that confused him— how could one love another that hurt them? Whenever Iwan came home after a bottle too many, he'd go straight to their master bedroom and undress, expecting Aoife to pleasure him as if it were her marital duty for each night. On some evenings, Iwan would make Lennox watch, adding one more whip each time the boy would look away. And he had looked away several, several times. The following mornings, his mother would be in the kitchen without fail, already cooking breakfast for a man whose heart was hollowed out with coldness.
School was not a matter of discussion. Born in Glasgow, Scotland, it was far and away a rough neighbourhood in which he’d been born: thievery, murder and rape was by large a more common thing than planes and working electric lights at the time, and not necessarily in that order. Ergo, Lennox lived a sheltered life for the most part. Only when accompanied with Iwan or Aoife was he allowed to wander out, and even then, his parents either kept him on a figurative leash, as one would a dog. Otherwise, being left locked inside the house no more different than a neglected dog, made him feel very, very lonely.
Amongst other things, the dinner table was a forbidden place for Aoife and Lennox, made such by Iwan; to which the mother would explain that the man was only facing trouble and stress at work, as if it were the one thing justifiable for the act of the harsh treatments toward Lennox. One night, when Iwan had gone out drinking, the mother and son sat at the very table, the need for permission from the Master of the household slipping from Aoife’s mind. As fate would have it, Iwan came back, having forgotten something—Lennox couldn’t remember pinpoint exactly what, but he recalled the actions that had happened then, when Iwan’s eyes had seemed to gone deathly dark, the intensity in the lines and wrinkles in areas turned harsh and his face reddening in sheer ire, and the boy had the scars on his right hand that whispered of the story—
—in all his rage, the man had cuffed Aoife across the face; or in an attempt to, smashed the bottle of tequila he grasped upon his son’s hand. Aoife stood, stunned, watching for a minute, then finally intervened when her husband began beating Lennox. Lennox had made a punch at him, and if it weren’t for that mere display of disrespect, Iwan, per his words, would have desisted from anything else. The boy missed, of course, then his target had laughed and demonstrated to him what a punch really was. Pushing Iwan away and surprising herself with her newfound courage, Aoife dragged the boy into his room, telling him to lock the door and that everything was going to be okay. It hadn’t been, especially not for her. The screams that echoed throughout the house ascribed to that.
...
Having cried and whimpered himself into slumber, Lennox awakened the following morning before the sun had fully risen, awakened to the haunting sound of an unfamiliar voice prior to a few knocks on his door. The voice was rough, a male’s, but certainly not his father’s. He didn’t open the door. The voice drawled, making all of the hairs on Lennox’s neck stand up:
“Things will be okay now.”
And at that, he heard footsteps receding, like a wave of the tide drawing back, settling the ocean into placidity—as it should, after the storm.
But, per the man’s words, all had not been as such. C
· • ⸰ ° ❝Look into my eyes, and see the remnants of a sentiment there. A sentiment for flesh.❞
---
Lennox was a sheltered, and well - behaved child. His father would rarely let him outside of his home besides attending school, and this is when most of the psychological abuse took place. Lennox’s father was very harsh on both him and his mother, going as far as to not allow them to eat at the same table as he did when they would ‘enjoy’ their rather cheap meals. Lennox’s family was not doing below average when it came to income, but Lennox found out at around ten years old that his father was in charge of their balance, and he would only spend the money on cheap items for his mother and him, buying expensive things such as cigarettes for himself with the money that was left after he supplied his family with ‘groceries’. This had originally bothered Lennox, but, he soon realized that he didn’t have much of a choice.
Lennox has a few specific memories during his childhood, one being the time that his father had returned home early to his mother and him eating at the large table, the table they’d been forbidden to sit at. The night was filled by the exchange of pained cries from both of them, and Lennox was very quick to learn that he should always obey his father. That night is especially memorable to him because of a dent in the corner of the table where Lennox’s father had thrown a plate which had chipped the table, and only dealt fuelled his anger further than it already was. Lennox was forced to clean the glass quickly with his bare hands, causing him to receive some small and deep cuts from his hands shaking in fear, he still has scars from the event if you examine his hands closely enough.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━