"what? It's Even Illegal To Walk Down The Street These Days?" Her Words Come Out In A Deadpan As She

besides being a lifelong part of the town, shreya's gone to the memorial to cover it for the paper. she expected it would mostly be a puff piece with some in memoriam type parts to balance it, make it a respectful piece. but as soon as the veil drops, there's a gasp, and suddenly the piece isn't an article commemorating the town's losses. it's replaced with something darker, something hard to read and something even harder to write. "what the hell?" she murmurs, wide eyes flicking over the extra names, the names of people she knows, some of people she cares deeply about. when alara grabs her hand, shreya glances over, the realization that alara's own family is represented on the new list washing over her. "fuck. i... do you want to get out of here?" is what she asks, empathy bowling over the journalist inside of her.

LOCATION : the candlelit memorial , sometime around 5pm . open to everyone .

there  was  something  so  surreal  about  the  things  that  were  happening  in  red  creek  ,  for  the  first  time  the  thoughts  touching  her  in  more  than  just  a  passing  way  .  when  she  was  younger  ,  she  had  been  so  idealistic  ,  protected  by  her  parents  and  looking  forwards  to  life  .  she  thought  now  that  maybe  her  eyes  were  opening  little  by  little  to  what  was  really  going  on  and  how  those  losses  must  feel  ,  empathetic  heart  bleeding  more  and  more  for  those  left  behind  .  she  isn't  there  for  personal  mourning  but  to  think  about  the  lives  that  have  been  lost  ,  to  consider  the  hole  they  left  in  the  world  and  all  their  lives  .  then  ,  the  veil  is  pulled  back  and  there's  more  writing  than  she  remembers  ,  a  second  for  her  brain  to  catch  up  to  the  foreign  thing  that  is  taking  place  ...  she  doesn't  make  a  noise  as  others  seem  to  have  some  kind  of  reaction  .  blink  once  .  instinctually  ,  she  reaches  out  and  grabs  onto  the  hand  of  the  person  standing  beside  her  ,  having  came  alone  ,  separated  initially  from  anyone  .  it  is  almost  a  knee  jerk  reaction  but  she  doesn't  let  go  ,  least  of  all  trying  to  comprehend  the  presence  of  her  sisters  name  .  not  a  word  spoken  .  fight  ,  flight  ...  freeze  .

"Sorry... sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out." Griffin murmured, moving out of the doorway and into the room. He felt bad, terrible even, that he had accidentally stumbled upon his mom having a moment he was sure she didn't want him to witness. But he was glad, too, that she didn't have to be alone right now. "Mom..." He shook his head, "it's alright." It probably sounded stupid, since nothing really was 'alright,' but he wasn't completely sure what to do or say under these circumstances. "We'll get it cleaned up, Mom." He whispered, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her for a hug, "It's gonna be fine, Dad won't see." Though, given the situation, he wasn't sure his dad would be worried about something so trivial in comparison to everything else. He let out a slightly shuddery breath as he hugged her, trying his best not to lose his composure. Griffin wasn't generally that composed, mostly a nervouse wreck, but he felt like he had to be now. He felt like he owed it to his family to be strong. His dad always seemed so strong, his mom too, maybe he just wanted to prove that he was a Talbot after all. Prove that he could handle the tough stuff and still keep his head up.

He pulled away after a moment, crouching down to deal with the clothes scattered across the floor, "Is there a... y'know, a system? A donate pile or anything?" He asked her, picking up a wrinkled blouse on the top of one of the piles. He figured Charlotte's meltdown wasn't just about the clothes, but he thought dealing with the mess was a good place to start.

closed starter with: charlotte and griffin (@chappcdlips) setting: "her" and nathan's bedroom, 6pm, the night before the funeral

Clothes were everywhere, piled haphazardly in no discernible pattern, and Charlotte sat in the middle of it like the eye of a hurricane. There was a wild, desperate look in her eyes as she picked through items, giving each a brief look before tossing it in one of her piles and moving on to the next. She’d been doing it for hours at this point, and was so lost in the process that she jumped when she saw Griffin in her peripheral vision. “Oh God, you scared me Griff!” She threw the shirt in her hand on top of a pile to her right, suddenly deeply self-conscious of the disaster zone she’d created, and a long line of explanation began to tumble haphazardly out of her mouth. “I needed a dress for tomorrow, and I didn’t have anything in the guest room closet, so I came up here to look for something, and I just kept finding all these old clothes that I never wear, and I started to think, why don’t I just donate all of these stupid things that are just collecting dust,” she rambled, her voice growing more strained as she spoke. “And now I’ve just created this huge mess in a room that’s not even mine anymore, and that’s not even mentioning the fact that I am apparently not capable of finding a single black dress that I can wear to your cousin’s funeral.” Charlotte choked on the last word, fighting the overwhelming urge to crumple in on herself. She mindlessly moved some clothes around, trying to keep her trembling hands busy, biting the inside of her cheek to maintain her faltering composure. “Can you help me get these clothes put away before your father gets home?” Her voice dripped with embarrassment. This mess was evidence of her unraveling- something Griffin shouldn’t have to see, and something Nathan couldn't see. 

The best way to contact me is to meet me in my dreams at 3am

//   (  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) 

"i... i dunno," griffin admits, avoiding eye contact like a professional — professional in what? he's not sure. maybe just in being nervous, "my boss just tells me what's going on." and he goes along with it. that's what he's paid for. he looks up when the woman mentions his book, a slight smile on his face, "i really like her other work. and i agree, her writing style and the way she integrates everything thematically with realism and depth despite the subject matter... i could go on for days." he blushes a little, always a bit embarrassed when he talks too much about his interests, "is this all for you today?" he asks as he picks up the painkillers to scan.

" what a peculiar deal . " renee says aloud , fingers skimming over the shelves of products . she offers griffin a strained smile , tries to pretend not to be bothered by the omnipresence of the talbots wherever she turns . it's not his fault . none of this is his fault . he's so young , really . just like josie - and renee would hate for anyone to ever think poorly of her daughter just because of who her parents are . " not necessary for me , though . do you have extra stock or is it a christmas special ? " she slides down her packet of painkillers onto the counter . " shirley jackson has a way of showing women's desperation and grief so well . that's the real horror , in my opinion . " renee muses aloud , smile painted on her lips , never budging . " what made you pick it ? "

Spike Fearn Alien: Romulus World Premiere at the TCL Chinese Theatre in Hollywood, California (August 12, 2024)

10 Things I Hate About You (1999) dir. Gil Junger

cyrus barely registers that someone else is out there until he hears carlos' voice and when he does, he hardly flinches, eyes traveling over them in appraisal. in threat potential until he realizes that the other doesn't look altogether threatening. he's got maybe a hundred pounds on them he thinks, leaning against the side of building, arms crossing, "it's not me. and i'm gonna go out on a limb and assume it isn't you either, but looks can be deceiving." cyrus pulls out his phone and sends a quick text, the call he was about to make decidedly cancelld now that there's someone else present. he doesn't know carlos, but you can never be too careful who you say what around — especially in a town like red creek. "why are you standing back here alone if you're so afraid the killer's gonna get you anyway?" he asks with a chuckle, a teasing lilt to his voice, "that seems like a bad strategy."

𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘.　behind redstone bar, 11:30pm 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛.　anyone

𝗿𝗲𝗱  𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗸  𝗶𝘀  𝗮  𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗸  𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗲.  no  matter  how  much  carlos  tells  himself  he  should  leave,  that  there  are  so  many  reasons  he  should  get  the  hell  out  and  return  to  life  as  he  knew  it  (  despite  the  potential  consequences  they  could  face  if  ever  ████████  )  they  stay.  carlos  stays,  trapped  between  its  tragic  grasp  and  forced  to  watch  its  horrific  history unfold.  under the impression of being alone, carlos  jumps  at  the  sudden  noise,  nearly  dropping  the  cigarette  held  between  their  fingers.   “  jesus,  f  —  dude!  you  can't  be  doing  that  anymore,  there's  like,  a  killer  out  and  shit!  ”  brief pause,  eyes  narrow  at  the  person  standing  before  him.  it  doesn't  help  that  his  response  to  all  this  is  misplaced  carelessness,  the  kind  that  could  make  you  the  first  kill  in  a  horror  flick  —  not  the  kid  who  trips on air,  but  the  one  who  stands  face  to  face  with  the  killer  and  laughs  in  disbelief.  “  unless  . . .  the  killer's  you.  is  it  you?  ”

Spike Fearn