lady galahad.

in the long run, if i get there in time, it'll be alright.

[untruthing]

— is your band, uh, death metal or something? — it's my podcast. i solve murders. — oh. nice work if you can get it.

#untruthing : charile cale of peacock's poker face. private & selective. written by k (she/they). series compliant with some little adjustments here and there.

rules. / about. / prompts.

[untruthing]

every rich character i interact with in this blog is just someone charlie is going to observe like a zoo animal

[hot-fuzz]

POKER FACE: SEASON ONE (2023) Natasha Lyonne as Charlie Cale • costume design by Trayce Gigi Field

Field: “Natasha is… a big fan of vintage so her initial mood board was ‘70s meets Western meets desert girl, you know? So we just tried to like combine all three of those vibes together. I try to keep it interesting by mixing and matching pieces and you’ll see that there’s some repeating [pieces] throughout. To me that just feels really genuine.”

[crimeshowsource]

Poker Face | 1.10

[untruthing]

@jupiter3 ( gwen. )

the show must go on despite attempted murder, or whatever. vegas seems to be especially bad about that. at first, charlie worried it was too close to old roots in laughlin. but she figured hasp probably wouldn't expect her to dare to be that close so soon.

really, she's just glad all of this isn't a the prestige situation, with a hundred tanks with dead gwens floating in them downstairs. and gwen's good people. "long night," she says easily. "but—no attempted murder. so i'll take it." then charlie considers for a moment. "you want a drink?"

[untruthing]

@holstering ( columbo. )

why does this always fucking happen around her? every time, charlie rolls into some new town and someone decides, as if compelled by the sound of the barracuda's engine, that enough is enough and so-and-so has to die. she's tired of talking to cops, tired of a string of corpses trailing after her. so charlie shakes her head slightly. "look, i'm gonna be honest with you here, alright? i don't really do the whole, uh, 'freely talking to cops' thing. i'm sure you're an upstanding officer or whatever. but still. if it oinks it's a pig, you know?"

the sentence leaves her mouth. then she winces. scrambles for something helpful to say. "besides, i've only been here for a few days. i barely know any of these people."

[untruthing]

perhaps a starter call as a treat. they'll be short as i work to get back into charlie's voice

[goodsirs]

Poker Face 1.01 “Dead Man’s Hand”

[notmorbid]

the free.

dialogue prompts from the free by willy vlautin.

your eyes are all red. even in this light, i can see that.

if you were gonna rate your pain from 1 to 10, what would it be?

it wouldn't kill you to leave the house, once in a while.

i'm so tired of being in pain.

i want to lose myself inside myself. disappear from the world.

worrying always makes me hungry.

if you walk me home, i'll make you breakfast.

everything's falling apart, so it seems like all i do is fall apart.

i love you more than all the candy bars ever made.

i love you, but i like you, too.

i hate to say this, but you look worse every day i see you.

there's no use being a tough guy around me.

i think it would be hard to be mad at you.

can you tell me how bad it hurts?

i called you four times last night. why didn't you call me back?

i know i might seem lonely. maybe that bothers you.

it's been years since i fell asleep next to anyone.

if you say anything like that to me again, you can walk home.

if you don't want to talk, that's fine.

my heart has so many scars on it, it's hard to breathe.

people can disappear right in front of you.

i'll let you know if i think you're crazy.

that's just the pain talking. it'll go away. don't give up.

it's your place as much as mine.

if you keep talking like this, i'll need a drink and a good cry.

i hated it there, so i ran away.

we can stay here. they won't find this place.

it's like the world is moving on, but i'm stuck.

i feel like acting like a family tonight.

i keep making bad decisions. why are all my decisions bad?

you made me want to keep going when i didn't want to.

you have to learn how to be alright alone.

back then, i wanted to be normal. that was my big dream.

you're not as bad as you think you are. i know that.

you're a good kid, no matter what happens to you.

you can cry as much as you need to, and hate me as much as you want. sorry to say i'll still like you tomorrow.

sometimes i feel fine, and other times i'm in so much pain i can barely stand it.

it costs a lot to get old. you should save your money.

to be honest, i thought you'd be better off without me.

i've never understood people's fascination with war.

if you quit talking, people forget you're there.

it's always strange, seeing a person out of context.

i have to tell you i'm sorry for making such a mess of things.

maybe you should blame me.

i can make things worse. i know that's true.

i can be better than i was. i will be better.

i don't want to spend my whole life angry.

why didn't you tell me your real name?

i try so hard not to make mistakes, but i make a lot of them.

you're not disappointed in me?

sometimes you have to treat yourself when you get beat up.

i don't want to own you. i just want to be friends with you.

maybe when i die, i'll disappear in you. live inside you.

the main thing to do when you're tired is remember to be nice. remember to be kind.

every person has their shadows.

it's hard to let yourself have a good time when someone you love is in pain.

[untruthing]

new tags.

[untruthing]

ok things to do on here today after work

clear out old inbox stuff

new tags?

new icon probably

pinned post finally

[notmorbid]

a crooked tree.

dialogue prompts from a crooked tree by una mannion.

did you know tears contain glucose, sodium, and potassium?

tears contain a natural chemical painkiller. you'll feel better afterward.

one more word, and you'll walk.

if you're such a big christian, why don't you just help us yourself?

if you have money, it's acceptable to break the rules.

you're not going to get anywhere with me.

don't take the 'fun' out of 'dysfunctional'.

why were you so mad at me?

are you okay? are you hurt somewhere?

i walked here. i couldn't go home.

is there anything you haven't said, that you're scared about?

no. no parents. it'll just make everything worse.

does anything else hurt?

scars aren't blemishes. they're experiences, written on your body.

you look nothing like a punk rocker.

see you later, munchkin. get some sleep.

you don't have to like someone to love them.

it's fucked up to force secrets on a child.

grief is exhausting.

put your shirt back on. everyone can see.

please don't tell anyone. i promise everything's okay now.

promise me if you need any kind of help at all, you call me. you can always call me.

shouldn't you be at home watching the brady bunch or something?

you're a very strange kid. i mean that as a compliment.

i knew you were a bad influence.

tell me a good ____ fact.

i almost forgot what a geek you are.

well, look what the cat dragged in.

you should probably stay until the storm passes.

investigating helps me forget.

i can't remember ever being so angry.

i never wanted to let you down.

you're very practiced in the art of scowling.

i can't speak right now.

let's try to make something completely different. something good.

i wanted to tell you, but i didn't know how.

sadness can be in your body, even when it's not in your head.

you're like a kid who covers their eyes, then thinks you can't see them.

you always make me feel good.

i know i look like a feral raccoon.

you out in the world again?

it's strange to picture you with a mother.

sometimes your body knows things before your head.

you've just given me the best day of my life.

it didn't sit right with me, not to say anything.

how are we going to get out of this?

with you here, i feel safe again.

i would do things differently, if i could.

i wish you felt you could tell me things.

i'm proud of all you did.

some things can't ever be put right.

people always make it about men heroes. the world makes better sense to them that way.

do i need a lawyer?

what have you done that everybody is scared of you for?

i just wanted to destroy things.

i wonder who i'd be if i had a different father.

will you come in with me?

that's a bit of a non sequitur.

it never occurred to me that you'd actually go.

why on earth would you be angry with you?

i feel like i've ruined your life.

[untruthing]

i hope poker face just keeps cycling through progressively more unhinged casino kingpins who keep wanting to murder charlie. i think that's a funny bit.

[goodsirs]

There is no corner of the country deep enough to hide from us. We’re gonna find you. And your death will be neither quick nor comfortable. Unless…

[untruthing]

@profanemouth left a voicemail: no! it's just dumb!

"i fucking know, right?"

charlie beams in agreement. the one thing she's learned from all of this, from months of running around the country and stumbling into death after death, is: mostly, murderers aren't that smart. not that she's a genius or anything. she can see lies and she's got a decent way to connect point a to point b.

most murderers think they can get away with it. you wouldn't do something like that if you weren't sure of it. losing a fortune or something versus going to jail for a decade at least? yeah. it's an ego thing. charlie hasn't lived like that in a long time, not since her days playing poker and thinking she was invincible.

yeah. she's well past that time in her life, and she didn't even kill anyone back then.

she leans forward slightly. "see, the thing about a lot of these guys—don't ask how many of these guys i've met by now, it's way too many—is that they think they're smart. also, a lot of them are rich, so they've insane to begin with. but they're not smart! the rest of them are so desperate that they get stupid."

she wants to say something about how a pair of washed-up actors used a fake argument stolen from a monologue and a piece of dry ice to kill one of said actors' rich wife. but that also sounds insane when you just say it, as she's learned by now, so she'll keep that one close to her chest.

thespians are just a different kind of person.

"i've seen weirder, okay? trust me. saying that in this situation it's very possible that this guy was killed by a freak accident that was not a freak accident is pretty likely. like, okay. when our guy here, pat the stock broker, said he hadn't worn gloves recently? he was lying. weird thing to lie about. unless you climbed up there and knocked out that piece of 'loose brickwork' or whatever, wearing gloves to avoid leaving prints."

she pauses. her hands gesture, from left to right, one step to the next. "then he schedules a business call so that someone'll ping his cell phone, which is in his apartment at the time of the murder. so he's not lying when he said he had a business call that he missed—and mike wasn't lying when he said that pat set up the call, and that he's usually reliable about these things. pat just kind of... doesn't see people as people, who might contradict him or have thoughts and feelings on him. he's a facts and logic guy or whatever."

a pause. "so, yeah. just dumb."

[untruthing]

@ellieharp left a voicemail: you’re not shitting me?

she doesn't usually show off the whole lying thing that much. in the end, charlie doesn't really bring it up unless someone else does. years and years working in laughlin, wandering the casino floor, and no one knew about it. not a single goddamned one. but ellie seems like good people, and, to be honest? she doesn't seem like the type to run around talking about it.

"nope." she grins a little, sequestered on the other side of the diner booth and prodding at the pancakes in front of her. they're definitely not the best pancakes she's had, but you can never really complain about what you get in diners. it's food, it's edible, and it's at least kind of cheap. what else can you ask for? "now, let me point out that i'm not a psychic or anything like that. i can't read minds, i can't tell the future. no crystal ball or anything like that. i don't know what tarot cards mean either."

she went to a tarot card reading once, more out of some kind of morbid curiosity. barely remembers any of it now. her and natalie went together, actually, which is enough to make her chest hurt. charlie's gaze drops back to her pancakes for a second. still, that's not what ellie's asking about. she likes ellie. she doesn't want shit to turn sad just because a memory is swimming up from the back of her head.

so charlie nudges a half-melted pat of butter around on the top of one of her pancakes until the feeling recedes a little.

"it's just a thing. if we can find a pack of cards i can prove it pretty easily. or i guess one of those random generators online."

[untruthing]

@crimeloyalty left a voicemail: ❛ A few cocktails before I’m murdered. ❜

bartending's a decent gig, all things considered. she likes listening to people. she tries not to make too many comments, but unless they're real asshole stock broker types, most tipsy people won't really care what she says to them. the more drunk they get the more that can change, but if someone's that many bottles deep then they've got other shit going on.

her gaze flickers to meet the woman's.

she isn't lying. she believes the joke, at least a little, if it's a joke at all. it doesn't really seem like it.

"you're saying that like it's a regular concern for you. is that a gotham thing?"

charlie regrets the question the second it actually leaves her mouth. but it's already out in the world, hanging in the air between them. it marks her as not from gotham, as if the accent and the attitude don't say that already. she tries, most days, not to make herself stand out at all. just another bartender. sometimes people know her by her hair, which is somewhere between a compliment and an insult.

the bar's countertops are sticky, plastic menus and lighting so poor that she's had to learn what some of the bottles are by feel and shape rather than the label. but just because the place is a real fucking dive doesn't mean she has to act like it.

"but, hey - you want cocktails, you got them. who am i to deny a last request?"

she laughs just a little despite herself.

"seriously, though. you sure this is what you need? maybe some kevlar or something? big bulletproof helmet?"

a ticket out of gotham, and maybe to the other side of the world?