no body, no crime

[ CALLIOPE WINTERS. 30. FEMALE. SHE/HER] is here! They’ve lived in Silver Lake for [ 30 YEARS ] and are originally from [ SILVER LAKE, CALIFORNIA ]. They are a [ PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR ] and in their downtime love [ TRUE CRIME PODCASTS ] and [ CHILLING IN DIVE BARS ]. They look a lot like [ DIANE GUERRERO ] and live [ ON REDCLIFFE STREET ].

it’s vex back at it again with another muse.

“This guy at the hardware store really tried to mansplain how to remove wallpaper to me. I had to bite my tongue because I didn’t wanna get thrown out but I wish I had woken up and chosen violence this morning.”

@slchat​

“No see there’s an easy and polite way to turn that around on them.” In fact, Callie had all but mastered the technique. “You let them finish, wait until they are completely down. Smile along if you feel like it. But when they’re done, just say. Right, I already knew that, but you’re so excited to teach me that I’m assuming you learned it recently?  Works a treat.” 

Callie: Wouldn't miss it for the world!

Callie: Did you already get glitter bombed? I'll bring two.

Joey: no i got a bloody nose 🥺

Callie: I'M SORRY WHAT?

Joey: You're coming down to pride, right?

Joey: Can you bring me a shirt?

Callie: Wouldn't miss it for the world!

"Him being a good guy to other people doesn't wipe his slate with me clean." Callie of all people knew he was a good guy, she'd seen it first hand. A highlight wheel of all the moments where he was affectionate, and loyal, and honest. How he protected his family and friends.

It's why it hurt.

She knew exactly the man he wasn't, and how he failed to be that for her. "Hardest lesson in life is that the people who hurt you are capable of being amazing for someone else."

Callie: Smashed it or dumped it in the pool?

Baz: Smashed it with a wrench then threw it off the highest point of Yosemite falls

Callie: Whoever you're dodging is about to be chasing Yogi bear

callie: endless beer, at least two hotdogs and...

callie: I get to ride in the truck :)

beau: beer, hotdogs and a ride in the truck?

beau: i can make that happen

beau: i'll even let you turn on the siren

callie: sold!

callie: tell me the time and the place

Being here because of her feels off. Foreboding. He’d attended the latter half of her funeral from afar, made sure he hadn’t mingled in order to keep the peace and leave the past where it ought to lay: six feet under with her. To know her family, to apologize, wasn’t something he felt he deserved. Javier’s face falls, brows furrowed as he shifts in the doorframe.

“…listen, Ms. Winters. I haven’t spoken to Jen in… I don’t know, when I didn’t have army casuals in my closet? We were good friends when we were kids, but I don’t see her needing to leave me anything.” He pauses, swiping a hand slowly across his mouth.

“Maybe it was to the wrong Navarro, I don’t know.”

“It’s possible but,” He looks just like you, her brain auto filled her silence. She could see him retreating, and hated to admit that she was already forming a back up plan. Something to say to Mateo to ease the ache. Callie knew what it was like to have a parent decide they don’t want you, and if she could prevent him from feeling that way she would.  Maybe it said a lot about her, that she trusted herself to protect her clients more than she trusted their loved ones. Maybe life had just taught her love was the easiest motivation for deceit.  “I don’t think so.” 

“Yeah, why? This because I didn’t send in my consensus or something?” he retorts, but it’s the name that follows stopping him in his tracks. Does he remember? ( Yeah, every fucking day of his life. An obituary in the newspaper; that’s about as far as he got to a reunion. ) “Heard she passed not too long ago. Fucking awful stuff, man. But I hadn’t seen her since I was kid.”

-

“No, it’s not a consensus issue although you should really fill that out-” She stops herself, she gets on that spinning wheel every time someone brings it up. Her dad instilling in all of them very young that voices can’t matter if no one opens their mouths to speak. It’s why she votes every chance she gets, it’s just her dad’s voice in her ear over and over. 

“I’m sorry, losing people we were close to is always hard. No matter how long you’ve gone without speaking.” She hadn’t known a loss quite like this, but there was no one who could say Callie didn’t know grief in all shades. “I’m actually here because of her.”

beau: name your price

beau: beer and hotdogs are our currency here

callie: endless beer, at least two hotdogs and...

Jimmy let out a hum with a nod. Peachy. Yeah, he got that. He stayed quiet for a long moment, his hands slipping into his pockets. It was still day time, but he felt like he needed something a little stronger than coffee.

“You can absolutely say no considering the history between, well, you know… but do you want to get a drink?” He asked. “For old times sake?” 

-

This is was Lorelei would call a self-destructive opportunity. It’s essentially when the world tempts you with a choice you know, is not a good one. Having a drink with you’re exes dad? When they’re probably on bad terms? Not amazing. 

Not to mention that, all things considered if he was not her ex-father-in-law this would sound kind of like a come on. But no one would cross that boundary. Then again, she didn’t think he’d sleep with Holland either. 

Choices were questionable, clearly. 

That being said, a drink sounded alright right now. “Sure, one drink.”

Jimmy hummed with a nod. Yes, there was a lot to unpack but Jimmy had gotten so used to being in an intimate relationship with his son’s best friend that it just felt normal for him now. 

He shook his head. “No you don’t need to say anything comforting or meaningful… break-ups happen.” He shrugged a shoulder, rubbing the back of his head. “So how have you been doing?” 

It had been a long while since Jimmy had really spoken to Callie, and admittedly he’d removed himself completely from the situation because he knew the reason why their relationship had ended and he didn’t want to open his mouth and say something stupid. 

“How have I been doing,” Callie echoed, really thinking about it for a second as she shifts her wait from the balls of her feet to her heel and back again. How had she been doing?

Not well, thanks for asking. Her life exploded, she ran away, yesterday she found Morgan’s scarf in one of her drawers because her brother had thought it was hers. She was shifting into a real life Veronica fucking Mars. Much to her pysch-sister’s dismay. 

Oh, and his son cheated on her. 

Can’t forget that one. 

“Peachy.”

beau: we're short a few dummies for the CPR refresher down by the reservior on saturday

beau: so naturally i thought of you!

beau: feel like having your ribs cracked by some over zealous volunteer?

beau: 😂😂😂

callie: considering it.

callie: considering it.

Baz: Save this number it's Baz

Baz: Unless I don't know you

Baz: Or I do and you're annoying

Baz: Then fuck off

Five by Night was one of her favourite places to visit alone, nursing a cup of coffee, hidden away in a corner of the establishment, flicking through the pages of the latest book she was devouring for work and savouring the melancholic voices of those who poured their heartache, grief and sadness into their crooning up on the small stage. Saturday nights always seemed to be reserved for the wilder songs, the one’s that got the crowd stomping their feet, clapping their hands and their hearts racing with excitement. 

Morgan tried to avoid Five by Night on those nights.

Tonight had been a mixed bag of performers. One girl had sung her rendition of Put Your Records On by Corinne Bailey Rae, a redheaded male who had played an acoustic cover of Sam Smith’s Latch and a couple who couldn’t leave the stage quick enough after choking before they even reached the chorus of Lost Stars. Somebody had called for any volunteers after a lull in performers, Morgan had deliberately sunk low into her seat until somebody else had stepped up to the challenge.

There were only two places Morgan was comfortable performing —— her shower and behind the wheel of her car. Not in a room full of strangers, all eyes focused on her.

With her hands wrapped around the steaming mug of coffee, book upturned on the table, she settled back into her booth as somebody new climbed the stage, a defiant smirk tugging at the brunette’s lips. Morgan’s stomach dropped as the brunette turned around —— as Calliope Winters turned around —— anger and betrayal seeping into every word of her chosen song.

Whose bed have your boots been under? 

Morgan pressed a hand to her throat, a shuddering breath climbing up her throat. She knew whose boots she was singing about, whose betrayal had scorned her. Bowie. For a moment she considered collecting her belongings and sneaking out the backdoor, putting Five by Night and Calliope Winters far behind her but that felt unfair to Calliope. As if Morgan was punishing her for something that was as much her fault as it was her own instead of her brothers. 

Instead, she sat through Callie’s performance, no matter how awkward and uncomfortable she found it. It was as if she was being made privy to a secret of Callie’s that the dark-haired siren was unaware of. Once she had finished her performance, Morgan slipped out of her booth and tentatively made her way towards the corner of the stage she was dismounting.

“That was,” Morgan started, searching for the right words. Brave, badass, vulnerable. Was there even a word for what that was? Callie had reminded her of The Erinyes —— Furies —— from Greek mythology, deities of vengeance who are sworn to undertake vengeance on men, whosoever hath sworn a false oath. “Honestly? I don’t have anything constructive to say, I just wanted to come over and say Hi.” Morgan confessed, an awkward smile tugging at her lips.

Callie had effectively bled out onto the stage, each uncomfortable glance downward coming with the catharsis that it made people uncomfortable. They should be uncomfortable. Cheating was fucking uncomfortable. Lying was fucking uncomfortable. She was uncomfortable. Every minute she walked around before she left, was a broken heart and a barbwire enema. This crowd could take a taste of it for four fucking minutes. 

And when she stepped off, she smiled at the couple who couldn’t meet her eye. That’s how she didn’t see the small blonde approach. To busy wrapped up in what little satisfaction she could grab to notice her ex-future-sister-in-law. 

That was, the words start to leave Morgan’s lips and Callie readies herself for whatever comes next. Bowie was her brother, even if he was her lying cheatin’ prick of a brother. What was she going to say? Rude? Brash? A bitch move? Unhinged? All applied surely, Callie just couldn’t bring herself to feel bad about it when her brother had slipped head first into someone’s cervix. 

Honestly, Morgan speaks. And she thinks, come on Morgan. Lay it on me. Show me how the Shores stick together. Show me every ounce of loyalty afforded to everyone else but me. 

She doesn’t. 

Instead she says hello, and Callie’s heart can’t help but unthaw the place his sisters held in it. “Hey kiddo.”

.Calliope Winters. Not a name he could remember off the tip of his tongue, though names and faces so rarely come together. Running a hand down his mouth, the man leans against the frame of his door with a simultaneous shrug. Things were never good; they came with consequences, and he was short on ideas for actions that may have caused it.

At least he hadn’t received an urgent message from family. That had been the only reason why there wasn’t an immediate jump to drastic conclusions.

“Depends on what kind of things, Ms. Winters,” he relents, glancing past her to survey the street. So it was just her, then. “But go for it. I’m all ears for the time being.”

.

“Have you been a resident of Silverlake you’re whole life sir?” She asked, as if she didn’t already know the answer. But people tended to like talking about themselves. It was an easier way to do this than just ripping off the bandaid. “Do you remember a woman by the name of Jennifer Mercer?” 

“The Chicks it is,” Joey nods, Callie’s wish her command – especially when it came to the mood music for backyard wine night. Especially when she had been gone for so long. 

But the absence had been something that Joey had deeply understood – she knew what it was like to feel haunted in places where you had once found the deepest comfort. There was no way to outrun the ghosts, but you definitely could throw them off of your trail for a little while.

She hums a little ‘Goodbye Earl’ under her breath as she queues up the playlist, hitting play and settling back into her lounger with her glass of rose – practically going bug-eyed at the way her friends story concluded.

“Wait, isn’t he like – sixty? Twins at his age, Jesus…” Joey shakes her head with a puff of breath, taking a deeper drink from her glass.

“Feeling like you dodged a bullet?”

It doesn’t skip past her, how Joey had forgive her absence. How she was the only one in town who seemed to even understand why she needed to not be here for a while. It had been her sister’s request sure, but...Callie took it because  she was exhausted. Looking at everyone in town and wondering if it was them. Or if they knew. 

“No that’s the fucked part,” She said, taking a long drink from her own glass. “The knee jerk was to call him.” And part of her is ashamed of it. The way that her first response was still to check on him. On his feelings. On how he was holding up. “I mean it’s not every day your dad knocks up your best friend. And I know he’d be shattered...”

Mr. Perfectly Fine hadn’t done shit to deserve it. Radio silence since the second he walked out of the life she thought they’d been building together. Left high and dry in the king sized bed they bought. To slum it back to Oasis and sleep with the fleas. 

She had to admit: being picked second to literal rats?

Ego killer.

“I’m so fucking stupid.”