//   (  aldis Hodge .  cis Man  .  he/him  )  .    ⸻  cyrus Cromwell ,  A  thirty-eight  year

fawn's head whips around as kingsley speaks up and she snorts, "i never suspected you, trust me, but i would support you if you were." she tells him as they fall into step together, lengthening her stride slightly to keep pace with his longer legs. "you're right, though, it's definitely some annoying white guy. but the idea of a hot girl or NB is a nice thought, y'know as i support women and queer people's wrongs." she may draw the line at serial killing, but it really depends on how hot the perpetrator ends up being. plus, maybe they have a really good reason — you never know. fawn hums, inclining her head slightly in thought, "yeah, i hear you, but boogeyman kinda gives me scooby doo villain and that's a little less scary than just saying 'oh yeah, the brutal serial killer tormenting red creek.' it could be somethin' scarier like... the red creek ripper. that's more threatening, i think." not that fawn will admit any fear regarding the situation. she has enough going on in her life to worry about. "you'd make a really good shaggy if we were doin' real life scooby doo." fawn muses with a teasing grin on her face, "i don't think i fit the velma or daphne archetype unfortunately. plus, i'm sexier than both of them, no offense to hanna-barbera or whoever the fuck." the thought evokes the memory of mornings, siblings sat on the trailer floor watching reruns of old cartoons as she tried to make breakfast, but she shakes the remembrance away quickly, "ritten can be scooby, just a lot more temperamental."

○    NOW DELIVERING TO . . .    ⏤ @chappcdlips !

kingsley squints at the familiar figure walking on the other side of the street . that slumping of shoulders is par to his own , although kingsley leans back more as he walks ( like something out of ed , edd and eddy ) . people walk in very distinct ways , and kingsley has always enjoyed seeing the tiny mannerisms that make up a person . for fawn , she walks leaning forward , hair curtaining off everyone , quick steps that slow down every now and then as if she's remembering she's not in a race . his lips quirk up and he crosses the street easily , picking up his pace to try and catch up with fawn . even though he's tall , fawn is FAST . it takes him a few moments to realise that a grown man following a woman right now is probably not something that is very ASSURING . he clears his throat . " i'm not the boogeyman . i have a feeling that guy's white . 82% of american serial killers were white , so that's just statistics, you know ? " kingsley states as way of introduction . " then again , gender isn't real . i guess it could be a hot girl killing everyone . or some cute NB . " he shrugs , thoughts spinning in his mind . " also , should we even be calling him boogeyman ? isn't that SERIAL KILLER 101 ? don't call them by their name cause it gives them more power ? " kingsley has a lot of thoughts on the entirety of the situation , but he mainly keeps them to himself . well . to himself, and to fawn .

//   (  spike fearn .  cis man  .  he/him  )  .    ⸻  griffin talbot ,  a  twenty-one  year  old  ,  has  survived  another  day  in  red  creek  where  they  have  lived  for  his whole life  .  the  introvert  is  known  for  being  attentive  and  timid  and  is  often  associated  with  notes scribbled in margins, not speaking unless spoken to, long walks with no destination  .  in  a  small  town  where  they  work  as  a cashier at red creek pharmacy  word  travels  fast  .  it’s  hard  to  keep  a  secret  ,  and  it  looks  like  the  boogeyman  knows  that  redacted .

STATS

full name: griffin douglas talbot   hometown: red creek, mi   sexuality: bisexual  birthday: june 30   zodiac: cancer sun, cancer moon, capricorn rising  height: 5’9”  languages spoken: english, some spanish marital status: single children: none  traits: attentive, imaginative, independent, timid, oversensitive, evasive 

BACKGROUND tw drowning mention, anxiety  

the youngest of the talbot clan, griffin knew from a young age that his family was a Big Deal 

when he was little he liked the attention, he was a rambunctious and loud child, always running around trying to keep up with his older siblings 

this changed when he was 9; that summer, he was playing in a creek with some friends, he fell into a deep drop off and in a freak accident his foot got stuck in a sunken log and he was trapped beneath the surface for too long 

his friends eventually freed him but he had lost consciousness and was rushed to the local hospital 

he lived obvi, but the event left him traumatized and embarrassed and anxious all the time 

he started to withdraw, wracked with fear and anxiety, to this day he has pretty horrible social anxiety and is afraid to go near water 

he exceeded all expectations in school though, getting great grades and eventually getting into every college he applied to, including his dad’s alma mater, princeton

but he decided to stay local, commuting to school from red creek 

he’s in school to become a pharmacist which is why he works at the pharmacy part-time; he isn’t exactly passionate about pharmacology (he’ll happily collect those nice checks someday though) 

PERSONALITY & FUN FACTS 

painfully shy, social anxiety beating his ass daily 

much prefers to spend time alone or with very few close people 

reads a lot (likes horror, thriller, mysteries, but HATES true crime), plays videos games (idk which ones, i don’t go there), watches a lot of movies (letterboxd top four: star wars episode i, wallace and gromit (were-rabbit ofc), the parent trap, snakes on a plane) 

really into herpetology as a hobby and has a lizard, bearded dragon named wallace, and a snake, rainbow boa named gromit 

always has a plastic baggy of yellow starburst on him (he only really likes the yellow ones but will eat a different flavor if it’s offered by someone else) 

has so many pairs of socks that he just keeps them in a large cardboard box in the corner of his closet 

has never been in a relationship, is incredibly scared to do so and would not know where to begin 

but definitely has a number of crushes and a tier system for them 

writes shitty poetry and short stories for fun in a notebook he always carries around with his starburst baggy 

in typical baby brother fashion, thinks his older siblings are the coolest people alive 

a really good listener, he is observant and notices everything, so even though he’s probably not talking a lot he’s absorbing everything you’re saying 

hates the prominence of his family name these days, would rather live anonymously as some local nobody than be in the spotlight 

has had problems w insomnia since the incident at the creek, but he’s kinda okay with it bc more time to read and fall down a wikipedia hole or just go on a long ambling walk to nowhere 

big into tea, never drinks coffee 

sweet and very sensitive, like okay water sign 

incredibly caring towards those he loves 

 character inspo: jughead (riverdale), fez (that 70s show), ferb (really a ferb sun, baljeet moon) (phineas and ferb), quentin (the magicians), marcus (the bear) 

he looked up, eyes landing on none other than foster. naturally anxious already, he could feel his anxiety ratchet up a notch, his mouth suddenly feeling drier, pulse racing. griffin looked at him with slightly wide eyes, shrugging, "i don't study, um, marketing." he didn't know what possessed him to try a business school joke, but it was too late to backtrack, so he just plowed on. he much preferred to talk about his book anyway, "relate? um.. not particularly," though, the loneliness... sometimes, "i just think shirley jackson is so masterful at building suspense, in... in storytelling, really. anyway... yeah, i could write a thesis on her." he ducked his head a bit sheepishly, not used to being put on the spot — and by put on the spot, he meant literally just being asked a question by someone outside of his family and close friends. if he were braver even a little bit, he would ask foster if jackson's work had ever influenced his, but then that would make it known that griffin had seen pretty much everything the other had made and that would be very embarrassing probably. griffin nodded then, humming, "i, um... stuff related to tech is over in aisle six. i can't promise there's polaroid film, but i know there's disposable cameras and that sort of stuff so... there's a chance?" he told him, "would hate to see you flee town, but i can't make any promises." in griffin's own head, it sounded like he was practically begging foster to not leave town. though, that didn't stop him from the follow-up question that required incredible bravery on his part, "what do you need it for?" maybe he'd even get the scoop on what foster was working on now, which was an exciting enough prospect to keep him from avoiding eye contact completely.

ꜜ   ﹙   📹    ﹚   ﹕    INTRODUCING   A   BEGRUDGING   GARGOYLE   HUNCHED   OVER   A   BOOK   !   couldn't   even   be   bothered   to   look   up   when   the   bell   above   the   door   clanged   its   weary   tune,   foster   entering   the   pharmacy   and   stamping   snow   off   his   boots   onto   the   welcome   mat.   and   he   couldn't   help   but   snort   at   halfhearted   sales   pitch   tossed   his   way,   funny   how   griffin's   father   probably   had   the   charm   to   sell   used   condoms   at   the   motel   while   the   kid   couldn't   even   look   a   customer   in   the   eyes.      ❛     you're   really   selling   it   there,   champ.     ❜     foster   laughed,   more   tease   than   bite,   as   he   stepped   closer   to   the   counter,   boots   squeaking   faintly   on   the   worn   tiles.   and   he   planted   his   palms   on   the   counter,   leaning   just   enough   to   catch   sight   of   the   book   that   must   be   so   engrossing.   a   flicker   of   recognition   crossed   his   features,   eyebrows   lifting   lightly   as   he   drew   his   gaze   toward   the   younger   man.      ❛    hangsaman,   huh   ?   you   relate   to   it   ?     ❜    he   asked,   nodding   toward   the   book,   his   voice   dipping   lower,   gentler—   not   quite   mocking   now   but   probing,   his   curiosity   piqued.      ❛    the   loneliness   ?   the   descent   to   ...   madness   ?     ❜ but   foster   was   just   half-joking   with   the   inquiry,   a   small   chuckle   slipping   past   his   lips   as   he   fished   his   wallet   out   of   his   back   pocket.      ❛     i'm   just   here   for   some   polaroid   films,   by   the   way.   please   tell   me   you've   got   some,   or   i   swear   i'm   driving   straight   outta   this   town   and   never   coming   back.   well,   no.   but   i'm   definitely   not   gonna   be   happy   about   it.     ❜

fawn nearly snorted at kaz's attempt to be rude to her, a clever smile curling her lips as she looked him up and down patronizingly. he almost made it too easy. she clicked her tongue, "nah, buying food to drop off at my place. money's tight, my friend," she sighed, "sometimes you gotta watch your own back. but feel free to waste your money on charity. least you can do considering where ya work." she flashed a faux sweet smile, grabbing a box of cinnamon toast crunch and tossing it into her cart. "but be sure to tell june i said 'hey.'" she teased.

"i'm buying food to drop off at finch and june's apartment. is that what you're doing too?" he was never good at being mean, being the bad guy, provoking someone. he preferred to sit and watch, bide his time until they confessed to him. but he couldn't resist himself, add a little quip as he ran into fawn at amrak.

@chappcdlips

JESSICA HENWICK as PEG GLASS ONION: A KNIVES OUT MYSTERY 2022, dir. Rian Johnson

GERALDINE VISWANATHAN 2024, ph. Andrew Jacobs for Vanity Fair

ALEX CROSS 1.02 - Ride the White Horsey | dir. Nzingha Stewart

griffin tugged down the hood of his sweatshirt as he entered the kitchen — not necessary to be the more hermitic version of himself in kieran's presence — hands shoved in the pocket as he approached the counter. he wasn't sure what he expected when kieran told him to come downstairs, but the array of weapons spread out across the cold countertop weren't exactly what he had imagined. and he was sure his face said as much, eyes slightly widened and eyebrows shooting up his forehead, "this looks like a hunger games survival kit. who are you? haymitch?" he would be dead from the jump in that scenario. or maybe he'd hide like peeta. regardless, griffin wasn't sure of his skills with weaponry of any kind. "you're trying to cause me twenty-one more years of absolutely no dates, huh?" he gestured to the hello kitty taser, which looked about as threatening as a sleeping golden retriever despite its designated purpose. he looked up at kieran, "i'm gonna need a utility belt." then griffin paused, deciding to finally set the jokes aside and humor kieran as had been requested, a deep sigh pulled from his lips, "do you really think i'll be able to do anything useful with these things? not saying that they aren't useful, but i'm not the most..." he trailed off, glancing back down at the things his older brother had brought, "i feel like i'd just fuck myself up with the bear spray on accident or something like that, if y'know what i mean." he wasn't physically imposing like his brother and he wasn't exactly coordinated. he had thrown a punch maybe once in defense of angela when they were kids and he had missed and nearly fallen on his face which was mostly just incredibly embarrassing and not-at-all tough. but, all that aside, he understood what kieran was doing and why he was worried and he loved him for it. as a kid, griffin had practically hero worshipped kieran, thinking of him as a protector, as a person to emulate — everything an older brother is supposed to be. in some capacity, he still thought those things, but he knew, too, that now that they were older, kieran wasn't always around to be those things. griffin wasn't trailing behind him down the sidewalk like a shadow anymore. and even if he was, when if it came down to it, it seemed the boogeyman had no problem taking down those who seemed big and strong. griffin ran his fingers gingerly over the knuckle dusters, "it's only gonna get worse, huh? the murders and attacks? i mean, that was the pattern the first time, right?"

ꜜ ﹙ ⚰️  ﹚ ﹕ sometimes,  looking  at  his  brother  felt  like  looking  at  himself⸻    a  reflection  of  his  own  timid  set  of  shoulders,  the  way  anxiety  and  fear  clung  to  him  like  cigarette  smoke.  and  it  was  a  terrifying  thought,  that  griffin  could  be  carrying  all  the  same  emotions  he  did  when  he  was  at  that  age.  those  feelings  of  being  small  and  inconsequential,  so  insidious  with  how  it  could  compel  him  to  fold  himself  up  in  so  many  ways  as  to  not  take  too  much  space  and  draw  attention  in  such  a  big  terrible  world  that  devoured  people  like  them.  and  there  was  nothing  in  this  world  he  wouldn't  do,  not  a  sharp  knife  he  wouldn't  jump  in  front  of,  just  to  make  sure  his  brother  never  think,  even  for  a  second,  that  he  didn't  matter—  that  his  softness  wouldn't  be  enough  to  keep  him  whole.  but  kieran  also  knew  that  he  wouldn't  always  be  able  to  protect  griffin  ﹕  not  that  kid  who  used  to  follow  him  and  his  friends  around  anymore,  couldn't  just  put  his  hands  over  griffin's  eyes  whenever  something  abhorrent  happened,  like  taylan  beating  someone  up  or  finch  pissing  in  the  middle  of  street  like  a  bad  dog. though,  maybe  this  could  be  a  helpful⸻    objects  solemnly  laid  out  like  artifacts  on  display,  every  item  looking  incredibly  barbaric  on  top  of  their  father's  sleek  choice  for  a  countertop.  a  bear  spray,  bright  orange,  its  purpose  blaring  like  a  hazard  light  ;  the  hello  kitty  taser  he  got  on  sale  from  amazon,  as  though  violence  could  be  sanitized  by  design  ;  and  the  knuckle  dusters,  inherently  brutish,  something  primal  made  manifest.  and  kieran  stared  at  them  for  a  long  time,  as  he  wondered  if  his  brother  could  stomach  it  ...  how  protection,  if  it  came  down  to  it,  would  demand  more  than  tools.  it  called  for  instinct,  resolve,  the  kind  of  hard  calculus  that  turned  you  into  something  you  might  not  recognize.

then,  he  thought  about  the  memory  of  alaina  price,  not  just  the  soft  recollection  of  laughter  or  late  night  babysitting  when  they  were  kids,  but  the  raw  unflinching  truth  of  the  morgue.  he'd  been  there  when  thierry  gore  unzipped  the  bag  and  made  the  first  incision  in  that  sterile  and  cold  room.  he  was  the  one  who  weighed  and  cataloged  her  organs  like  they  belonged  to  a  stranger,  not  the  girl  who  taught  him  how  to  braid  piper's  hair  or  told  them  monsters  weren't  real.  and kieran  had  held  her  heart  in  his  gloved  hands,  felt  the  emptiness  in  it,  and  wondered  if  she  had  known—  really  known—  how  brutal  the  world  could  be.  how  wrong  she  was  about  the  monsters.  and  it  was  the  kind  of  knowledge  he  couldn't  risk  griffin  learning  the  same  way.  ❝  hey,  c'mere  for  a  second, ❞  kieran  beckoned  to  the  kitchen  once  griffin  finally  came  downstairs,  his  expression  quiet  but  deliberate,  hand  brushing  briefly  over  the  taser's  smooth  surface  before  retreating,  as  though  unwilling  to  impose  the  weight  of  his  fears  too  heavily  on  his  brother.  despite  how  raw  the  memory  of  seeing  alaina's  corpse  was,  the  lacerations  in  her  flesh,  the  way  memories  of  her  effortless  smile  had  been  replaced  with  seeing  her  lips  purple  and  slack.  ❝  just  humor  me,  alright  ?  i  want  you  to  carry  this  stuff,  please. ❞  no  sharpness  in  his  tone,  no  explicit  urgency—  only  the  quiet  unyielding  care  of  someone  who  had  seen  too  much  and  refused  to  let  it  happen  again.  ❝  it  gets  dark  so  early  now,  i  don't  want  you  walking  'round  without  anything  to  protect  yourself. ❞  @chappcdlips