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Alia Shawkat photographed by Columbine Goldsmith for Vogue Magazine

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Alia Shawkat by Olivia Bee

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brigid-campanella​:

It truly wasn’t all that often that Brigid Campanella became suspicious of others, if ever, in fact. On this occasion, however, she couldn’t help but feel ever so slightly unnerved by the uncanny way Dana held herself. “I’m fine,” she offered, a little awkwardly as she hitched the worn strap of her backpack over her shoulder. She was in her nursing tunic, heading over to a client’s home to spend the afternoon with them when Dana very nearly collided with her and then decided to strike up a conversation. 

She realised then that maybe the reason Dana was so awkward around her was the reason that most folk in Lockhorn were awkward around her; they were thinking about what happened to her dear old daddy. She decided then to be a little less standoffish, in the hopes of salvaging what tatters of a reputation the Campanella name had left, “ Fine weather,” a weird fuckin’ thing to say but she was trying to be amicable, inviting even., “Summer’s here to stay, I guess” it was supposed to be a good thing, at least that was how she’d meant it but there was something in the way she spoke that made it seem like she just wasn’t quite sure how she felt about anything. Maybe that was true, maybe she wasn’t quite sure.

*** Dana sighed with relief as Brigid reassured that she was alright.  It’d be bad enough to injure someone with such a notorious history around these parts, and even worse when they were in a nurse’s look. “I will be more mindful in the future.” 

The way Brigid tried, to give off that easy going conversational flow, was something they couldn’t help but relate to. Perhaps their reasoning was different, and even the way they both lost their fathers was greatly different, there was a mirror in what they were trying to be good at this, and Dana wanted to reward that. “Yes, this heat is already showing itself.  Do you enjoy the summers? I imagine your patients do not.” They pointed to Brigid’s shirt, even as their eyes occasionally wandered to really check the walls for something, anything Panic related. “Are you liking your work?”

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banksrainier​:

—

Banks shrugged in response. “Seems fair,” he replied smoothly, considering that most of the time his normal day to day was miserable and left him seeking ways out of the trailer and away from the constant reminders of all the shit he did and continued to do wrong. As Banks slid into the passenger seat, his knees knocked against the dashboard before he managed to fit. “I was still debating that when you strolled up. It was either gonna be the auto parts shop an’ beg them for a part that I can’t afford or Parish’s an’ beg them for money for a part that I can’t afford. So you caught me in a real predicament.” His words came a lot easier than he felt they would, seeing as both were only going to put him in a place that he didn’t want to be in with money and that damn truck. “So I guess whichever is easier or closer for ya?”

***

Dana couldn’t help but smirk as they watched Bank’s legs touch against the dashboard. “You win, tallest passenger I have had. Your prize is being able to move the seat back if you would like.” They tapped their fingers on the steering wheel as they waited, getting situated themselves by adjusting their mirror. 

Dana listened closely as Banks explained, finding themselves biting their tongue at the topic of money.  Of course it was easier for them to detach themself from the hardships of those in Hazard, to say that the goal is for someone to prove themselves to earn the money. It wasn’t as easy when Bank’s attractive face was staring back at them. “How much is it? I guess Parish is closer.” The engine turned on and the car crawled out before Dana spoke. “Hope you are not looking for music because this car does not have a radio. Strategic, makes it less desirable for car thieves.”

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Alia Shawkat for Nylon, Jan 2017

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who: open where: on the streets around town (either hazard or prosper, dana goes to both!)

they didn’t want to seem suspicious, looking out from over the tortoise shell sunglasses that hung a little low on their nose. it had been a little while since the last panic event, and dana had been on edge to find out what was next. it was such a thrill to stand there, the energy around them pulsing as they watched those brave people make the leap. truly, it showed dana what a unique tradition they had in Lockhorn County, and how crucial it was for the future generations that it stay. however, dana knew people. enough experience had shown them that people are really bad at keeping secrets, especially when things like money and notoriety come into play. For this reason, Dana had left their beloved birds for the day in order for them to scope out the nearby area, see if any clues were there about the next challenge and then, find a way to protect those secrets from being exposed by the local law. 

they were so focused on their eyes laying on each surface around them to notice the person they nearly ran right into. “oh, i did not see you there.” a thing people say but in this case, actually true. “how, um, how are you this day, today?” 

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Alia Shawkat in Moonbase 8

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aceofbeas​:

“I live every day trying to aspire other people, so I guess we can check that one off the list.” A grin, rogue and almost threatening to be dangerous was offered, but only if you were afraid of a little excitement, or chaos, depending on whether or not you enjoyed that type of thing. Bea didn’t have the currency to be buying anything, so maybe it was simply better the pair of them didn’t go swapping empowerment, or sob stories. She had always liked Dana though, something seemed oddly comfortable there.

“You don’t have to, you can have a seat.” She makes sure to offer a way out, nodding toward one of the empty chairs next to her station. The mention of the hair did manage to rouse an honest laugh from her. “Nah, you’ve got the hair that makes folks just wanna run their fingers through it for hours.” Bea makes a motion with her hands before she picks up the broom, laughing a little more. “Shaving it would be a crime or some shit.” An honest observation before she earned another shrug. “I’m fairly certain my second to last client is having a baby that isn’t her husbands, but you know, small town drama aside.”

**

"makes me wonder what else is on that list, bea." they geniuinely pondered, but clearly they themselves were very successful, after all, the socializing book gave an instruction and dana followed it to a tee, bea even noticed. surely, they were an excellent social butterfly now, right? "i am aware i do not have to. also, how will i show off my exceptional sweeping talents?" they shrugged, leaving their offer in the air for bea to take or not. "i do?" dana puzzled at bea's hair mention, if they did, why hadn't people done it more often? though, that was more of a general thought dana had, what about them didn't lead to more romance? they knew they were a catch. that's why they figured it must be others being intimidated. "if they ever had hair awards here, they would have to put you on the council or something.." dana would win then, they'd have bea's superior judgement on it. dana was not above small town drama, and naturally went for the bait. "oh, that is a scandal. who do you think is the father? hopefully it is a step up from the husband appearance wise if we are thinking of the same person...blonde but not very obviously not naturally?" while dana would not want to be cutting hair all day, because they didn't really have the skill for it, the gossip side must be fun, after all, that was part of the appeal of the DMV.

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banksrainier​:

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The damn truck was pissing him off again, needing another part that he didn’t have the money for which meant he was going to have to beg or barter something with Parish for the help he needed to fix it again. Either that or he was going to have to keep walking to and from places as he shifted the strap of his pack higher on his shoulder as he walked. It was frustrating with how often he spent a good chunk of the money that he earned back on the truck and it never seemed to stay fixed long enough for him to ever get ahead. He was stuck in a perpetual cycle of constantly fixing it so that he could only make enough money to fix what broke next as he heard a car roll up alongside him.

            “How much it gonna cost me?” He replied with a half grin, joking as he slowed to a stop as he moved towards her car. “I ain’t got much cash on me.” Or any for that matter.

***

dana pondered for a moment, how much would this cost banks? of course, it didn't really cost dana anything for them to drive him around, and they liked banks. "nothing, but i if a need a favor someday, you might hear your phone ring." their voice was serious, their deep voice still even though their eyes read what their true intentions were, friendly. right now, they just envisioned banks helping clean the bird cages or reaching something beyond their own height but who knew what need might come up some day. "so, where are you heading off too?" they asked, part because if they were offering a ride, it seemed necessary but also for some good old fashioned small town nosey needs.

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#the saturday night for introverts starter pack

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Alia Shawkat, The New Yorker, 9 January 2022

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Mary Oliver, “Black Oaks.” West Wind

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aceofbeas​:

The excitement that seemed to thrum underneath it all, and even she couldn’t deny it. There was an internal struggle that came with it all, the will to want to win, but of course, the want to protect some of her fellow players, slip a little black tourmaline in all of their back pockets. Some, granted, more than others. Some, not at all, but that was her business. Personal bias was a motherfucker, and all that. Bea was easily caught up in her own inner dialogue, but soon that was stopped short, the sound of a familiar voice causing attention to drift, back to reality. 

“Small talk first, a nice touch.” She commented on the intention behind the question instead of the underlying want to simply tell someone that life was, and always had, felt a little like it was falling apart in her hands. Ah, mental illness. A small smile hinted at the corner of her mouth, her own apology for any negativity the commentary might have left behind before nodding. “Yeah, I got you, just let me get back in there and finish up sweeping.” It was the last bit of work she had before being officially free for the day. “Unless you’re finally going to let me cut that hair.” A tease called over her shoulder, as she had already started walking back toward the door of the salon. 

**

dana felt a smirk tug at her lips, if the small talk was supposed to make things subtle it didn’t, but what good was subtlety? “an affirmation, very encouraging.” it wasn’t even like dana felt there was much point of small talk or whatever, surely the other residents would appreciate how much faster it was to get to the point? as some shit empowerment VHS dana had attempted to watch before trashing it, it was really about selling yourself to the other party, which dana still felt was stupid. perhaps, more necessary since their feet continued to shriek at them in pain.

“i can help.” dana eagerly offered, though the rush of it came across like one would boast. the hair, dana tugged on it defensively. “maybe, i have been playing with the idea of pulling a Sinead.” the head shaving thing, not the pope picture thing but that was more because dana didn’t have a photo of the man. “how was your day here?” small talk dana had been saving for the ride but since they were still at the salon, it seemed appropriate.