did you hear that fallon ford is currently living in charming, california? they’re a twenty six year old who have been in town for about twenty six years, and are a member for the devil’s disciples & a mechanic at charming auto. it’s known around town that they’re quite magnetic but can also be arrogant. people in charming always say they’re reminded of fallon when thinking of neon eyeliner, grease stains on white tank tops, and pop-punk playing through oversized headphones.
tw: parental death, mental health issues, substance abuse.
THE BASELINE.
second generation disciple, raised by her single dad until he passed when she was twenty-one under weird circumstances to say the least. her dad was her best friend, her life line, her support system, and to say she hasn’t been right since would be an understatement.Â
 she can throw a right hook with the best of them but her best assets is her loyalty and her mind. raised with the idea that the disciples are family, not just something you’re a part of she does not take her membership lightly and treats each member as such. sometimes even calling them brother, sister or cousin out of affection.Â
which is where the thing she’s most known for pops up most often. fallon has a big mouth, and what’s worse is she’s smart enough to know how to use it. often playing the fool to her own benefit she has coined the term weaponized annoyance for this particular skillset. the idea being that if they’re too busy focused on her: they won’t see what everyone else is doing.Â
this has caused her to have a small rap sheet of spending nights in a cell for mouthing off to save others from getting in worse trouble without hesitation.Â
to the point where she even has a signature whistle that she does to alert members of law enforcements arrival, her distrust of them evident even if it is often unspoken. Â
she started taking things apart as soon as she could hold a wrench, small things at first: easy bake ovens, children’s toys, and now she can take a part and reassemble an engine in about an hour given the right music. it keeps her mind and her hands busy and out of trouble.Â
that trouble however, comes in the form of undiagnosed bipolar disorder that grew significantly worse after the death of her dad which can make her seem erratic at times. and on occasion leading her to impulsivity with certain substances.Â
PERSONALITY.
+ loyal, magnetic, intelligent, observant.
- erratic, mouthy, headstrong, guarded.
BONUS ROUND.
her insignia tattoo is on the back of her neck to guide every thought and decision. she has another tattoo just below her collar bone of four smiley faces depicting various emotions that colors in she uses to indicate what kind of day she’s having.Â
wants to get a third tattoo of a scorpion behind her ear to signify both she and her father being scorpios.Â
looks like a walking 90s revival when outside of work, various chokers and chipped nail polish.Â
RELATIONSHIPS.
ride or dies: @ulyssesflynn​ ,Â
childhood / highschool friends: @edieteller (childhood / ride or die), @scfiafm​ (highschool / drunk friends),Â
officer: @detectivecho​
WANTED CONNECTIONS.
connections wise i’m pretty easy, i’d love to explore her different relationships with each group member especially because that’s super important to her but some other ideas are:Â
friendly.
best friend / childhood friends / pseudo-siblings / a mentor / fellow club members / older club members / friends / they watch out for her / she watches out for them / drunk friends / new friends / roommate / co-workers / former co-workers.
romantic.
flirtationship / friends with benefits / tinder matches / exes (commitment issues mean this can go a bunch of ways) / unrequited crush (can be either way) / experimented with their sexuality together (she’s bisexual).
antagonistic.
enemies / former (best) friends / frenemies / rivals / negative influence / former co-workers / people she’s fucked over in the past or has fucked her over.
“Right? The fucking worst. I can’t stand them - so you have Mommy and Daddy money, good for you. If I had your daddy’s money, I’d go off too. Fucking brats.” Darcy rolled her eyes, and leaning over to perch her sunglasses on her nose as she watched Fallon work. “A Tesla? No, but if it were, I’d scream out the window Fuck Elon Musk! right loud, because trust me, I’ve done it before. Are all of your Tesla people fucking assholes too?” She asked, tilting her head to the side. “How is Sadie lookin’, Fals? Tell me it’s not bad - pretty please.”Â
“If I had their daddy’s money, I’d be driving the bike up somewhere where there’s bears and shit. Touch a pine tree. I don’t know.” At least she tells herself that. Then she thinks of the reality of being alone in the woods with nothing but her thoughts and the trees. It’s all bleak.Â
She’d miss her people, and hope they missed her too.Â
“Any Elon Musk worshipper is an asshole,” Comes her next comment. After accessing the damage, she gives her a nod. “Nothing too major, should be a twenty minute fix? You can get a coffee down the street or you can enjoy my lovely company.”Â
“I think people ask these questions thinking there’s some huge deep answer that every single person has that shows them the inner workings of their mind. But in reality, I want what every other person in this town, and on this planet wants. A job I like, got that one. Enough money to be comfortable, working on it. People who love me, like call at 3am no questions kind of love because that’s the kind of love I come chest first with. But if they can’t then I’ll match energy. To be fucking happy. And maybe a nap.”Â
“Faaaallon. Fallon, how much do you just adore me? Scale of ten thousand to twenty thousand? The whole twenty thousand? I thought so.” The funny bar owner walked into Charming Auto with her boots clanking against the floor. Taking off her sunglasses, she smiled, that mischievous smile, at her fellow sister in arms and tilted her head to the side. “Can you believe that my stupid jeep is being a brat again? I know, I know you told me not to race it against other cars, but I have this theory that sport cars think they’re so much fucking better than other cars and this one teenage twat thought she was so much cooler because she was in daddy’s BMW - anyhow, long story short, can you look at good old Sadie the jeep for me?”Â
Fallon is about to scold her for going against her instructions for what seems like the one hundredth time. But her train of thought is derailed by the mention of the sports car. She thought to her recent exchange with the sports car driving individual, and suddenly she can empathize. “No I get it, sports car owners are the fucking worst.”Â
The petty leapt out in her next question, “You sure it wasn’t a Tesla? By any chance?”
The question tossed over her shoulder as she pulls her hair up into a messy bun on the top of her head. As much as she liked to have her hair down at work, it always ended up this way. Too long, too in the way, some days a pixie cut looked really appealing. If it weren’t for her attachment to it.Â
“You are such a fucking bullshitter,” Uly accuses, though there’s affection colouring every syllable of it. Fallon was a part of his life the same way the sunrise was part of the morning. Expected and welcomed, enjoyed when he experienced it and causing him to be irked if its been too long since he caught one.Â
She glowed like one too, especially on a good day.Â
He steps away from her and turns so he can face her again, his hand mapping an invisible line from the top of her head to the middle of his chest just to really ring it home that he trashed her in the height department.Â
“Accept defeat and accept your true calling as one of Snow White’s little helpers.” With that, he also extends his arms at either side of him in invitation. “And give me a hug before you shrink too small for me to be able to.”Â
“You’re the fucking worst, you know that?” Came the echo of the affectionate retort as she threw her arms around him. Her hug a little too tight. A little too long. One that was an apology with every passing second. She held it together, managed to hide the way her eyes closed and she was transported to hug she gave him before he went away.Â
Even if it hadn’t been the last time, it had been a last time.Â
And no one tells you that the a call back to an ending in a new chapter would hurt just the same as the first time you read it.Â
“And you look, like, way better in daylight. Those fluorescence bulbs are bullshit.”Â
“I could do at least a twenty minute monologues about the humanitarian benefits of a ten dollar buffet,” Edie muses in answer to Fallons question, watching the man – who had obviously been trying to pull her – retreat in the direction of the slot machines.Â
Really, anyone who tried to pick her up was working with a lost cause – she hadn’t dated since Uly got arrested.Â
“And I wouldn’t have had to entertain him period if you’d been here at 9 like we agreed,” she adds, taking another shrimp and biting it down to the tail. “Want some?”
“Oh it’s like that huh?” Fallon teased her, before relaxing into the opposing seat. A shake of her head before her playful demeanor took an apologetic turn. She’d never say it, but Fallon puffed up whenever she saw someone too close to Edie. “Sorry, I got caught up at the shop.”
Uly was her friend, and no he didn’t ask her. And no he never would.
The reflex however still lived deep in her stomach, the knee jerk to look out for Edie: because she was her friend, because she was connected to the club, but also because Uly couldn’t when he was away.Â
And the lateness wasn’t a complete lie, she’d been returning a clinets car and in return: they’d slipped her the baggy hiding in the lining pocket of her jacket. A treat for her day off, something to keep her vibes constantly up. Alert enough to always be on guard.
“Is that even a question?” Fallon asked, before stealing a shrimp and popping it into her mouth.Â
As he listened to her verbally assess the damage aloud Rafe refrained from rolling his pupils back into his head. He knew exactly what the exterior damages were, even cried about them internally at length before having his vehicle towed there. Sadly this wasn’t the only car he has wrecked, nor would it be his last.Â
“I’m aware, but I need a written estimate. Six? Six what?” He was beginning to wonder if she was taking the job serious or hassling him for kicks. Things were hardly good but he had gritted his teeth together to prevent himself from speaking out of tone or making an unsatisfactory grunt that was sure to seep through. “A week and a half is sufficient. I’ll be surprised if you pull it off in under two weeks.”
“Grand.” Came the deadpan response. With every sentence of this conversation, she got less and less willing to do this man any favors. Making her way over to the forms she kept at her workstation, she started writing out everything he would need to know. Still, she gave him another chance to reign himself in.Â
Before she told him to fuck off and go back to the dogs he ran with.Â
When he implies that she can’t do her job however, her hand hovers in place. Straightening her spine as she turned to him. “But I’m thinking we might need an external part for this. Since it’s so new.”
“But you know what they say about guys and their sports cars.” Finishing out her papers, she held out the estimate toward him.Â
P-P-Posted, being a wreck of emotions
Ready to go whenever, just let me know
The road is long, so put the pedal into the floor
The enemy on my trail, my energy unavailable
“Sounds like you’re pretty sure of yourself. I’ve seen a couple of people waiting for them to call it, somewhere over on that end of the place.” Fluttering her fingers to the northeast corner of Overtime, Echo makes brief eye contact with a group of construction workers huddled around two pitchers. His smiles fades, eyes busying themselves elsewhere.
Yeah, that seems to be the average response to seeing her.
Fallon, on the other hand, isn’t afraid to make eye contract. Though if Echo had a nickel to bet on, she’d assume the other woman isn’t afraid of much. Not like a few of the perps she’d interviewed throughout her tenure in Charming, spittling and crying. No, Fallon owns who she is. Echo can respect that.
“I like trivia, even if m’not good at it,” she admits, turning in her stool away from the bar to drop her head against a propped fist. “And it’s a night off, so I’m out. Not often that I get to prowl Charming no strings attached. What about you, what’s going on in your neck of the woods?”
She swirls the whiskey in her glass. “I would say you gotta keep your friends and family out of trouble to see me less, but then you may miss me a little too much.”
“If you don’t believe in your own impressive trivia knowledge who will?” She was her own personal hype squad...When she was up that is. That’s why she always needed to be up. To not drain those already strung out around her. Fallon is the person who takes care of people, that’s her role always has been, always will be.Â
And maybe that’s the instinct that makes her smile at the men avoiding eye contact with the detective. Pussies, she thought. Maybe it was her lack of self-preservation, or maybe she was just cocky. But for all her distain of cops: she never feared them.Â
“Ah, so it’s your Street-Fighter than. That thing sucked me dry of quarters but I could never give it up. It’s my white whale.” Came an exaggerated shake of her fist to prove her point. Then came the smile, this one smaller, maybe even a little more genuine at the mention of her family. “My neck of the woods is as clean as it ever was. We’re looking into electric bikes now just to keep it that way.”
A pause, a beat that gives nothing away for free. “I’d like not to miss another drink that’s for sure.”Â
She hadn’t even realized she was sipping on air, but now signals to the bartender for another.Â
