DRIVE-AWAY DOLLS (2024) Dir. Ethan Coen

"what? it's even illegal to walk down the street these days?" her words come out in a deadpan as she stops in her tracks, a safe enough distance away to not scare the other even further. she's joking, mostly, but the tone doesn't leave her voice when she continues, "i'll start wearing a bell like a cat or somethin'." her own cat doesn't have a collar much less a bell – ritten is a citizen of the world, not fawn's house. her gaze flicks to the price house then and fawn hums, glove-free hands sliding into her warm coat pockets, "yeah, everyone's on edge. or on the edge. or both." she mutters, looking away from the house and back at maeve. growing up in town, she's accustomed to things suddenly becoming haunted. haunted by memory more than real ghosts. she was young twenty-five years ago, but she has pieces of memories of how things were before and after. her life was miserable before and after, so, really, she supposes it doesn't make that much of a difference. and yet, fawn, not a believer in anything, still finds herself avoiding the places that feel haunted. it's just what this town does to you. or maybe it's just what misery does to you. "it's only a matter of time before kids are breakin' in to try and see bloodstains or something." she shakes her head as if to shake that image away altogether. though, if she were younger, she may have been one of those kids, "but c'est la vie in red creek, i guess." fawn hums, a tight, mirthless smile slipping onto her lips.

🗝️ open starter for anyone. 📍 norwood street, just outside of maeve's front door.

✦ ⋰ norwood street feels particularly haunted now. it's a feeling that maeve can't escape – the moment she steps out of her front door, she's there. it's there. she often finds herself looking at the front door of alaina's home like a deer caught in headlights. so close, but impossibly far on the one night that it mattered. maeve nivans has finally met with a problem she couldn't fix ; alaina price was murdered- gone from red creek forever- possibly joined the uncomfortably long list of people that you just didn't talk about. she wonders if alaina's home will be notated as the price house in red creek history ; reduced to a horrific event & molded into a haunted house to prod at in the same way the thorne house was. her heart seizes at the thought. as she peers at alaina's front door, it almost feels like someone looks back — she nearly jumps out of her skin when she hears the footsteps. hand pressed to her heart, she nearly squeaks. ❝ oh my god. a warning would be nice. ❞ the anxiety is a new hurdle, too. an unwelcome guest that moved in with the ghosts on october 31st. she breathes out through her nose before offering a warmer expression– ❝ sorry, sorry. i'm just— on edge recently. you understand. ❞

always vaguely feeling like im in trouble for something but idk what

//   (  jessica henwick .  cis woman  .  she/her  )  .    ⸻  fawn liao ,  a  thirty  year  old  ,  has  survived  another  day  in  red  creek  where  they  have  lived  for  her whole life  .  the  pretender  is  known  for  being  clever  and  dishonest  and  is  often  associated  with  rings on every finger, a sharp tongue, the smell of incense clinging to clothes  .  in  a  small  town  where  they  work  as  a reader at sisters of the moon  word  travels  fast  .  it’s  hard  to  keep  a  secret  ,  and  it  looks  like  the  boogeyman  knows  that  redacted .

STATS

full name: fawn may liao   hometown: red creek, mi   sexuality: lesbian  birthday: april 2   zodiac: aries sun, capricorn moon, capricorn rising  height: 5’6”  languages spoken: english marital status: divorced children: none  traits: clever, adaptable, confident, dishonest, cynical, self-indulgent 

BACKGROUND tw parental death, neglect mentions 

oldest of the new generation of liaos and is just as bad as the rest <33 

when her mom died, fawn was barely old enough to brush her own teeth much less raise her little siblings but alas… that’s what she had to do 

their father, of course, was all but useless, fawn can’t remember a time when he actually did the things dads should do 

she tried to help keep things together at home and it made her angry and it made her strong in a way she shouldn’t have had to be, so naturally, she needed someone to blame — that person was june 

she tried at first, she swears, but it became easier just to let her frustration and anger reflect in the way she treated her youngest sibling 

she was smart and good at school, but not in the “pleasure to have in class” and way, more in the constantly trying to prove the teacher’s point is wrong sort of way that teachers don’t tend to like 

she graduated high school middle of the road, she skipped class a lot and had to take care of things at home 

as soon as she graduated, she moved out of her dad’s trailer and rented a house 

the house is tiny and a lot of shit is broken but she still lives there, it’s home 

she didn’t have money to go to college and she didn’t have the desire either, so she just kept doing what she does best: scamming 

since middle school, she would run little grifts, making false returns at stores and tricking adults into giving her money because she was “a few cents short” as well as planting hairs and bugs in meals at restaurants to get a free meal 

when she got older, the scams got more elaborate and she became a constant guest at the local hospital running car and bike accident insurance fraud scams— if she had had the time and money, she would have been a theater kid (derogatory), because baby is an ACTRESS 

now fawn works at sisters of the moon, which just happens to be another one of her scams bc… she’s not psychic and doesn’t have any magical “gifts,” she’s just really, really good at fooling people 

she was married, briefly, in her early twenties (potential wc…) but her wife left her after a few years bc… she’s kind of an asshole and also has never healthily expressed an emotion in her life 

PERSONALITY & FUN FACTS 

very angry, but good at hiding it most of the time, has a punching bag in her basement w pictures of her various enemies taped to it 

always lying, not just at work, she loves to lie just for fun <33 and about everything <333 

never talks about her mom unless it’s to guilt someone into doing something for her 

doesn’t believe in “guilty” pleasures, just pleasure 

scarily confident, a bit of a narcissist 

has a twitter where she shit posts and live tweets tv shows she illegally streams bc she doesn’t have cable or a single streaming service 

very charismatic and charming when she wants to be 

definitely sleeps around a lot and always has 

she has a skewed view of intimacy and sex makes her feel like maybe she’s kinda normal 

has a cat named ritten (rotten kitten) that she loves more than she’s loved any person including her ex-wife 

despite her known life of scamming and fraud, has only had a few brushes with the law, prides herself on this fact 

maternal in a tough love way, has a soft spot for Some (not june) 

again, zero emotional intelligence to be found 

trying to quit smoking, it’s not going well 

character inspo: fiona (shameless), rossi (criminal minds), zinnia (matilda), the wizard (wicked), kady (the magicians) 

GERALDINE VISWANATHAN 2024, ph. Andrew Jacobs for Vanity Fair

"with the amount of glasses they've got here? at least 45% of them are bound to be a little broken." cyrus assured with a slight shake of his head, "not your fault." he'd heard about the memorial, about the extra names, though he hadn't gone himself too busy with chasing his kids around. and he knew zeynep's name was there. he wasn't going to bring it up, but when she volunteered a quip about it, he hummed, "they'll notice." a pause, "we'll notice." it felt easy to provide that assurance. it felt true. in a town like red creek, with a family like zeynep's? he was sure everyone would know, that everyone would worry. he let out a soft sigh, leaning back in his seat, "and it's not going to happen, okay? nothing is going to happen." of course, cyrus couldn't promise that, but it was no use harping on the worst possible outcome, it would get them all nowhere.

location: redstone bar

time & date: february 15 & 6:00pm

status: open to everyone !

“it  was  an  accident,  i  swear!”  the  words  rushed  out  in  a  furious  whisper, she hadn't even noticed that she wasn't alone.  zeynep  pushed the empty glass she had been inspecting away from herself, before signaling the bartender for another around.  “the  glass  was  cracked  when  i  picked  it  up,  who  knows  how  long  it’s  been  defective...right?” she couldn't help but cringe at the sound of her voice, the brief crack felt foreign. no part of her wanted to admit that her name etched into the memorial had left her frightened. zeynep knew fear, it had plagued her nights. every red and blue flashing light had left her in a cold sweat for years. “anyways, apparently i'm on a hit list. they might not even notice before i become the next missing myth in town.” the words flowed so flippantly from her that zeynep could almost fool herself with the feigned nonchalance. “you don't think they'll notice, do you?”

he looks up, eyebrows lifting slightly at angela and the bag of rocks, "shopping spree?" though, he slips the bracelet onto his wrist without question and doesn't state the obvious - that he doesn't think any of this will protect him if the killer really wants him dead. "do i have to keep the stone in my pocket for it to protect me? or can it protect me from my desk at home?" he picks it up, running his fingers over the surface of the black rock, "i dunno anything about this crystal stuff." he admits. then, he gestures to the bag, "i hope you got some protective rocks for yourself in there too. otherwise, i'm going over there and buying more." and despite the recent loss of his cousin, all the victims thus far point to angela being a much more likely target then him, especially with daniela still gone. "and, y'know, maybe some pepper spray for good measure? a taser? how hard do you think it is to get a functional taser around here?"

𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲.　deer lake, around 7:30pm. 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵.　griffin talbot. @chappcdlips

〔　🦇　〕　　…　　𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗹𝗮  𝘀𝗲𝘁𝘀  𝗮  𝗯𝗮𝗴  𝗼𝗳  𝗰𝗿𝘆𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗹𝘀  𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻  𝗼𝗻  𝘁𝗵𝗲  𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲,  having  gone  to  the  sisters  of  the  moon  popup  for  a  reading,  only  to  come  away  with  much  more  despite  her  disdain  for  the  fundraiser  in  general.  why  should  she  give  the  sheriff's  department  her  money?  she  doubts  that  they'll  make  good  use  of  it,  her  trust  in  them  has  been  dwindling  with  every  second  that  passes  without  any  updates  on  daniela.   “  here,  ”  she  mutters,  handing  griffin  a  hematite  bracelet  and  a  black  tourmaline  stone.  “  it's  for  protection.  i  wanted  to  get  you  a  few  more  things,  but  i  thought  it'd  be  overkill.  ”  she'd  never  admit  it,  but  there's  a  small  part  of  her  that's  a  little  paranoid.  her  sister  is  missing,  her  former  babysitter  is  dead,  and  now  her  best  friend's  cousin  is,  too.  despite  the  pattern,  the  killer  is  still  unpredictable  in  ways,  and  she  didn't  want  to  risk  anything  before  it's  too  late.

Anthony Thomas Lombardi, from "self-portrait as murmuration"

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.     ❜

he looks up at the sound of her voice, grinning at angela, "mhm, then the week after that it's rope and boxcutters." he relaxes slightly. talking to angela isn't small talk and she's more than used to his antsy, neurotic presence. "hey!" griffin laughs then, shaking his head and grabbing for the book as she slams it down, "i'm not the most pretentious one." he'd argue that's probably his dad. "but it's a good book, i swear. you can borrow it when i'm finished if you want." though, then she'll have to put up with his barely legible shirley jackson fanboy notes in the margins. he tucks the book under the counter, glancing at his watch, "yeah, i get off in an hour. i'll grab some snacks before i leave too. that 30% employee discount... i'm practically the richest guy around." he gestures at the last aisle, "oh! most exciting thing to happen in awhile here actually," here as in the store, he wishes the rest of red creek would relax a little, "we got some of those sour patch kids that are just grape? i've never had them, but the just peach ones kind of rock, so the grape ones have to be pretty good too, right?"

“  𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀  𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁,  𝗯𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵  𝗮𝗻𝗱  𝗿𝗮𝗴𝘀?  ”   angela  jests,  having  come  from  the  other  counter  to  retrieve  her  new  prescription  bottle.  the  customer who'd just walked in  shoots  her  a  bewildered  stare  before  disappearing  into  the  aisles,  eliciting  a  snort  out  of  the  young  woman.  she  takes  the  book  out  of  griffin's  hands  and  flips  throught  the  pages, brows furrowed as she reads aloud a few passages.   “  sometimes,  with  a  vast  aching  heartbreak,  the  great,  badly  contained  intentions  of  creation,  the  poignant  searching  longings  of  adolescence  overwhelmed  her  —  ugh,  you  pretentious  little  bitch. all you talbots are the same,  ”  she  teases,  slamming  the  book  face  down  on  the  counter.   “  there's  a  silent  night,  deadly  night  marathon  at  polaris  today,  you  wanna  come  and  binge  'em  all  with  me  after  your  shift?  ”

ALDIS HODGE: Esquire Interview (2022)