sydney-grayson​:

Sydney usually left Rusty at home when she went to work at the café. A habit that was super hard to fall into because she had become so used to taking him literally everywhere she went. He hardly ever left her side from before enough as it was.  At least everywhere that was socially acceptable to bring a dog that wasn’t a service animal. But now, with everything that has happened…

Going anywhere without him was almost unthinkable. It took time. But she got there. Granted, she still took him everywhere. Just not the café.

So you could imagine the panic she felt once the weather got so bad, seemingly out of nowhere. She itched to run home to go get her dog, and she was foolishly considering braving the high winds and the pelting rain to go out and get him. She even started heading outside, barely making it out the door before being pulled back into the building, far from the door. “I gotta go get my dog,” she said, shaking whoever had grabbed her.

“Honey, you’re safety right now is more important than going out to find your dog.” That was debatable. “I’m sure the pooch is going to be fine. Let’s worry about the people in here, m’kay?”

Sydney bit down at her bottom lip, staring out the door for a moment before relenting. “Alright.” It was then she saw a familiar face rushing towards the café. Ray. She hadn’t seen him since first meeting him at the bench. She was quick to approach him.

“Hey, you alright? You’re lookin’ a little damp there,” she said with a tight smile. “The backroom would probably be the safest for us. Some people have already started heading back there.” She walked back towards the door, not that close, just to make sure no one else was outside. There was another pause to run out and go for Rusty.. When she saw no one else, she started towards the back, motioning for Ray to follow. “Come. I don’t think we have towels, but there might be some in the storeroom.”

“A lil’ chilly,” Ray admitted, looking down at his shirt. He wanted to take it off to avoid getting sick, but it felt indecent to start stripping in a room full of strangers. He focused for a second, trying to get his teeth to stop chattering now that he was out of the cold ran. It was partially successful, and Ray crossed his arms over his chest to try to generate some warmth for his torso.

He followed Sydney back, away from the storms and windows, to the back room of the Common Grounds. The supply closets were a bit more filled than they were at the Hard Times, but still nowhere near what their capacity was. Ray could see huge gaps in the shelves where missing items were never refilled. He scanned the room, looking for anything bigger than a washcloth to help him dry off.

Ray wanted to ask where’s Rusty? but from the look on Sydney’s face, he felt like that would be ill advised. Every time he had seen her around town, she was always with her four-legged companion. “You doin’ okay? That storm caught on quick. I hope it ain’t a hurricane.” The fact that he wasn’t here... well that probably wasn’t something Sydney wanted to be reminded of.

THEN&NOW; a questionnaire view of Ray Turner

myers - briggs - ENFJ (E-87%, N-54%,F-69%, J-55%)

enneagram - The Achiever

the four temperaments - Sanguine

the big five personality traits O-71%, C-68%, E-83%, A-94%, N-23%

moral alignment - CG

celtic tree astrology Reed - The Inquisitor

animal in you - Dog

western astrology - Scorpio

seven deadly sins - Lust

seven heavenly virtues - Liberality

hogwarts house - Hufflepuff

mischiefmaxed​:

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if she didn’t know better, didn’t see how uninterested he’d been in her beyond her games, she might’ve taken him up on exploring those dreams. she might’ve kissed him there and then and whispered about how good it sounded, taking him out back, showing him how dreams do come true.

but he pulls away, leaving her with her mouth open slightly and fun in her eyes.  maybe dreams were supposed to simply be that, after all.

and as she takes his hand, she plays the fall from the bar a little too dramatically, landing against him with a “oh my” and a grin. have this dance, he most certainly could.

“go on, sweep me off my feet like we’re cinderella an’ prince charmin’,” she tells him, putting herself in place, ready for him to lead. “make me forget abou’ midnight.”

Max’s warmth was addicting, and Ray was drawn to the casual physical affection. He allowed the indulgence when Max fell against his chest, keeping her steady on her feet.

“I ain’t no prince charmin’ though, Miss Max.”  If he were more sober, the words might be less teasing and more self-deprecating. “Maybe the stable boy in that situation.”

Ray’s hands settled in the appropriate placement without him having to think twice about it. His leading hand was up, ready for Max to clasp it, and his second hand settled firmly on her waist at a respectable place. His mother had insisted that Ray learn how to dance when he was in high school, and he and his brother had to undergo awful lessons with a woman old enough to be his great-great-grandma that got a little handsy.

jo-davis​:

— 🩺 —

“Well alright, sure, if you want to be all generic.” She hadn’t meant it was all about the beer, of course - but they were asking for feedback on the home brew that just so happened to be ready for consumption today. That was an odd set of coincidences if today wasn’t at least a little bit about the beer. “But no, you’re right - the fun doesn’t have to be associated with the drink by any means.” In fact, more often than not, she preferred it that way. It may be a nice change from the normal around Fairvale, but she didn’t need to be herding drunkards home all night…

“Hey, the fun is for you, too. Isn’t it?” She gave him a gentle smile, shoulders lifting in a shrug. “You planning on singing any other songs up there tonight? You’ve got a nice voice, cowboy.” 

Ray laughed at the slight dig. Out of everything he had ever been called during his like, generic had never been it. It felt nice to fit in with the crowd and just be able to go with the flow of it all. He was glad that Jo wasn’t here to be a damper on the party. Everyone seemed abuzz and happy, and there hadn’t been any ejections or big fights just yet. The night was still young, but Ray felt like everyone really was in too good of a mood to ruin it for everyone else.

“Oh me? I’m sure someone will drag me back up there for a duet or two. I’m good to let them have the stage, though. Not much of a center of attention kind of guy, yanno?” Ray’s buzz was still alive and the smile that settled on his face was indulgent and wide. “How ‘bout you?”

chahid-narayanan​:

Chahid felt like a little kid who needed to be looked after, and while the feeling didn’t go away despite how eagerly the other had them follow, Chahid didn’t stray from the path before them. They did feel caught, but they weren’t sure if they could formulate the reasons to a complete stranger. Already telling people about being deaf was a struggle, even more so when in a situation where being able to hear would’ve added to the experience. They weren’t ready for that type of pity.

They swallowed, like Fletcher, the person had a very distinct accent, one overly present in the way he moved his mouth. They were aware of it instantly, and did their best to follow along. It wasn’t as heavy as Max’, and they could gather the meaning. “Sorry, I am not uhm… normally this…” they paused. “Maybe I am… but, I’m good here, maybe it’s just not my thing.”

“S’alright if it isn’t your thing,” Ray answered with another kind smile and slight bob of his head. He took a sip of the beer in his hands. Ray wasn’t sure why someone would come if they didn’t like karaoke, but he can’t fault people for wanting to be apart of the experience. The whole party just felt so surreal and nostalgic. Ray felt himself get swept up in the crowd multiple times that night, and had been shirking his bartending duties a little. He would get back to the bar in a couple of minutes.

“Can I get ya something? A beer? A spot in the karaoke line?”

location: The Common Grounds date: July 26th 2020 time: start of the storm availability: open @sydney-grayson

The thing about living in the South was this: the weather could always drop at the turn on a dime. The morning had been a typical Georgia Summer day. Ray’s back had been slick with sweat, his plain white shirt sticking uncomfortably to him in multiple places as he walked back towards his apartment from the garage. The air was still and the clouds immobile, but Ray never thought anything of it. He was dressed down and slightly covered in grease from working on a motorcycle that had some kind of starter trouble. It took Ray the entire morning to figure out just what it was, stuck in his own world and tuning out the rest of Fairvale, and he was rewarded with a purring engine and a rumbling stomach. 

By the time Ray was free from the garage, a rough storm had ripped through the streets of Fairvale. He wasn’t made of sugar, so he braved the storm, figuring it would let up by the time he got near his apartment. He was wrong. The street was partially flooded, and he took a detour to his apartment building to avoid getting water in his boots. He stopped for a moment in the middle of the street, trying to wipe the water out of his eyes, when a tree branch cracks and falls down right next to him.

Well, shoot.

Ray made a split second decision and dipped into the nearest building, which happened to be the Common Grounds. There were a handful of townspeople there, including the familiar face of Sydney who had approached him in the park one day. Ray didn’t recognize the other two people in the storefront. 

“Looks like it’s gettin’ rough out there.” His thumb pointed back towards the town streets, where a large crash can be heard in the distance. Lord, he hoped the rest of the town was alright. “We should probably get back, away from the windows, just in case.” Ray’s teeth chatter as his drenched shirt and heavy jeans cling to him, full of ice cold water that would almost feel refreshing if the air wasn’t still so humid.

thehollyxwood​:

her lips tilt up at the expression on his face, happiness truly infectious “i’ll make sure i pay especially rapt attention to the stage then.” she comments as they continue posting up flyers, the repetition of the action calming in an odd kind of way. “and if the night goes off without a hitch, maybe you’ll be allowed to make it a regular thing - we could all do with more carefree nights around here.”

nights like her and mere had spent out in boston, karaoke spots and dimly lit pubs, small holes in the wall where they’d stay for hours meeting new people, hearing new music and just enjoying the whole experience together.

nights that didn’t end with hoards bursting through gates or the world caving in.

“i may need you to strike any and all covers of iris off the setlists though, i don’t think my sister needs the temptation.”

“I hope so.” Ray was a little worried about how much power the whole event would wind up costing the town. If it was too much, well, Ray would not blame anyone for making it a one time thing. The idea of a regular event - of a night, even just once a month, where they could all come together and forget about the outside world - still felt too good to be true.

“Duly noted. We’ll keep Miss Merrick away from all of the old broody tunes.”

They made quick work of the flyers. Two sets of hands was more than enough to get a dozen windows, walls, and poles around Fairvale set up with the handmade flyers. Ray found his hands empty and he looked back over at Holly with another friendly smile.

“Thanks again for the help. You make sure you find me at karaoke and I’ll make sure to buy ya  drink for your trouble.”

incendiarious​:

“cheers,” logan raises the offered shot glass with a twist of a lip that could possibly pass as a smile, before downing the shot. it’s much more effective than the beer, burning a trail down his throat and settling his nerves. he places the shot glass down on its rim, tapping the bottom of it once with his finger before picking up his beer glass once more.

“i’ll get a place of my own eventually, but i might take you up on that offer before then. hell, maybe even after.” he hadn’t planned on forming any attachment to ray—after all, the more people you care about, the more you have to lose—but the bond that comes from having gone through hell and back with someone is not one that requires his permission to form.

“things aren’t so bad now though,” he acquiesces. in his youth, he’d thought himself a sort of god—not in arrogance, but in penance. like atlas, he’d once thought he deserved to hold the weight of the world on his shoulders in penance for simply existing, had once been willing to martyr himself for the people around him. he’s a lot more selfish these days, not naive enough to believe that the world will ever go back to the way it used to be, but as long as he has the people he cares about within reach, he can’t bring himself to care about much else.

“i’m alive, you’re alive, no better ‘fuck you’ to the universe than staying alive.”

------------

mischiefmaxed​:

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“ugh, so obsessed wit’ your counter top, ain’ you?” she sighs dramatically, giving the bar a good pat. “can’ tell if you’re hintin’ for me to get off it or…” the thief leans in close again, brushing lips over ray’s cheek as she moves to whisper into his ear. “or if you’re hintin’ to get on here wit’ me.”

it’s all in fun, of course, evident by the way she can’t even begin to hold the nature of her words to any level of seriousness, falling into a fit of giggles that even included a small snort as she leaned back and wiggled with glee.

“can you ballroom?” she asks, “i wan’ to do somethin’ slow an’ romantic wit’ you.”

even if the music didn’t match.

Ray found himself laughing with Max at her antics. When she pulled back, he used the opening to lean in slightly, feeling dangerous and like trouble all on his own. His beard brushed her cheek when he placed a kiss there. Then, he leaned in a bit closer, so close to her ear she had to be able to feel his breath. 

“In your dreams darlin’.”

He pulled back after that. Max was always a wild card and Ray knew better than to press his luck any further. He enjoyed her company and their flirtations, but he knew it did not go any deeper than that between them.

“Any southern man worth his weight in salt can ballroom dance.” Ray held out his hand for her to take. He didn’t care how silly they would look with their fancy dancing in the middle of karaoke night. Some drunken fellow was singing Billy Joel behind them. Max was always a good time, and he did not want to disappoint her tonight. Not when everyone was in such a good mood, himself included. “May I have this dance?”

rinamunroe​:

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“raised them a bit too high and beyond, if you ask me,” rina snorts, eyeing the drink with a mild interest. it’d need to be her last one, she thinks. mixing pain relief and alcohol isn’t the smartest thing to do and yet it’s perhaps one of the better decisions she’s made when it came to the good old alcohol and drugs mix. 

she shudders at the thought.

and while the bartender remains uncomfortably close, his reassurances beckon a rare sorts of grin from her with a bonus of a small laugh. “is that something that happens often, too?” she questions. “watered down alcohol?” it’s about then that she brings her new drink to her lips with narrowed eyes, taking a sip and smacking her lips with a playful suspicion. 

“did you water down mine?”

Ray can’t fault her annoyance. The crowd of regulars could be annoying on a regular day, and for some awful reason they decided to play drinking games in the middle of the afternoon. Ray hadn’t figured out the rules of their game yet; he wasn’t sure if there even were rules, or if everything was being made up on the fly. Either way someone was not going to have enough tokens to eat this week.

“Yours is normal strength for the ‘Times,” Ray answered honestly, pulling back a little. He’s pretty good at reading body language and doesn’t want the newcomer to feel uncomfortable around him. There was no point in lying about their booze situation. It was all common knowledge. “Unfortunately, the boss lady waters down most of the liquor. Supply is just a lil’ too small and the runners don’t prioritize it. It also wouldn’t do good to have that lot,” Ray pointed his thumb behind him towards the drunken party, “that far gone every single day. They’ve gambled away at least half of their tokens for the week today.”

She was definitely new then, if she didn’t know that their liquor was watered down. Ray didn’t recall seeing her face at karaoke night either.

“I can bring ya a beer, on the house, if you’re a fan of it. The brew’s full strength and made fresh here in Fairvale.”

mischiefmaxed​:

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“bump n’ grind?” she repeats with an excited giggle, moving with his nudging only, in the wrong direction. max shifts until her legs sit over his side of the bar, a knowing and mischievous grin slipping into her features oh so easily as she hums and considers the sorts of dancing they could be doing. 

“shouldn’ tease a girl like that, ray,” she warns playfully, patting his cheeks gently. “an’ you definitely shouldn’ be teasin’ a thief, either.”

“No teasin’ here. I’m good for at least one dance of your choosin’.” Ray had hit the dance floor earlier, but he was still in a good enough mood to head back out. He was an okay dancer, better than his father for sure but that was not saying much. He could keep rhythm and he had been raised on the two step and square dance since he was out of diapers. A couple beers in, and still pacing himself, Ray had maximum energy and enthusiasm for the night. 

“And what do you plan on stealin’ tonight Miss Max? Besides my countertop and attention of course.”

rinamunroe​:

where: hard times tavern who: @southernrays​

it’s a terribly difficult thing, to sit within such a boisterous crowd. she’d assumed the tavern would be quieter this time in the evening, assumed most would begin to fall through the doors nearer to sundown and yet, here they all were, knocking back drinks that certainly didn’t taste of much and murmuring between themselves as if it’s another normal day passing by.

and she’s not entirely sure shes found her footing yet, the kind that meant she’d stay a little longer and simply enjoy the fact that she’d found society again — even if it came with her brothers — and perhaps it shows enough on her face how simply out of her comfort zone she is when the bartender comes to her table in the furthest corner with another drink in hand for her.

“is it always like this?” she asks, nodding to the patrons. “so… rowdy?”

There was so much hooting and hollering going on that day that Ray was a little worried. Not worried of the regulars and their normal shenanigans - Ray was stronger and much more sober, so if they needed to be kicked out it would not be hard to muscle them out of the door - but more so of the potential vomit situation that went along with binge drinking in the middle of the day. He walked around the bar, giving them a wide berth, and focused on the sole occupant of a corner table in the back of the Hard Times.

The person before him was new. Or, at least, Ray had not seen her around town yet so she was new to him. It was refreshing, to always have new faces in the crowd to learn, new people to befriend, and Ray hoped it stayed that way. Fairvale could continue to grow and exist in the awful world they've been stuck with.

“I reckon it depends on the day,” Ray said with a kind smile. He looked back over his shoulder at Harold and the boys running amok. “We’ve recently gotten some new drinks and it appears to have... raised their spirits as well.” Heaven help Ray and his bad puns. 

Ray sat the drink down in front of her, leaning in like he was sharing a secret. He was clear of this new stranger’s personal space, but it allowed him to drop his voice a bit. “If it makes ya feel any better, I’ve replaced ‘bout 80% of their liquor with water and they haven’t noticed yet.”

merrickwccd​:

“I think you think I am a lot fancier than I actually am,” Merrick laughed. “I used to love dive bars. We had two in the area that we’d sneak into in high school - I used to hustle pool with Ethan and con men into giving me their money just because it was fun.” She hated the fancy bars her friends had brought her to in New York, and even though her and Holly would find a pub over a wine bar in Boston, they still weren’t the same as the dives and pits that littered the south. “Even in Boston, I would have preferred dive bars. I just didn’t have many friends who would go to them with me.” 

All of those, she’d left behind in Georgia. 

“Bigger than running away from zombies and grabbing medical supplies and storages of food in the middle of the apocalypse?” she grinned; it was easy to be cavalier about her situation again, though she was sure it would never feel temporary again. The Kit Stamp ordeal had taught her one thing, if nothing else: this was what her life was like. The plans she’d had, the ideas and goals she’d never admit to - they were gone. 

“I dunno,” she admitted, allowing a little bit of vulnerability to come across. “I mean, I can’t write the next big American novel - there’s barely an America left, barely anything left. And I can’t get married and have kids - not like I wanted to, at least. I mean, I can find someone, and I can be with them until one or both of us dies, but procreating now….” 

She lets a shudder run through her, the idea of bringing more life into this world - it wasn’t something she would do. Not something she could do. “It feels irresponsible, you know? And I wanted to be a mom so bad. Now I don’t know if I’m gonna make it to see 24, much less if I’m going to get that ‘happily ever after’.”

.

“There might not be an America left that we’re used to, but places like this are the first step towards rebuilding. Yeah, we need guards and supply runners and the like, but civilized folk need culture - art, literature, something else besides day-to-day survival.” Ray takes another long sip from his whisky glass. “Don’t sell your skills short on that. Don’t sell yourself short either.” He’s entirely too optimistic when he thought about the future, what life needed to look like. This day to day surviving was just that, survival, but eventually they would need to live again. And maybe Ray just had a high opinion of Merrick, too.

“It does seem a bit selfish, but I ain’t one to judge.” Ray admitted. He felt guilt at the judgement, but he agreed with Merrick’s opinion.  Ray had his own hang-ups regarding fatherhood. It had never been in his future - doomed from the start with his lot in life - but Ray would have killed for the ability to have kids before the apocalypse. 

His big plans in life had been simple and linear. Ray would graduate from school, work his way through a distillery, winning prizes and bringing prestige until he could afford to open his own place. Atlanta was nice and all, but it was never long term for Ray. He’d meet a significant other along the way. Despite being a useless bisexual with everyone, Ray always saw it being a woman he wound up with. The land out near Jesup was cheap, incredibly cheap, and if he wanted to buy a couple of acres and have a farm-to-kettle-to-bottle place all to himself, he could also generate work in his hometown. They’d settle down with a big house and make a family together. Live a simple life in a slightly messy but always lived in house bursting with love and warmth.

“I planned on havin’ kids too.” Ray swirled the dissolving ice cube in his glass and kept his eyes down. “Adoptin’ probably.” Adoption was always an option, and coming from a very blended family Ray had nothing but positive ideas about it. In another universe, where it was biologically possible for Ray to have kids, he liked to think he would have. He wasn’t ready to share that issue, or part of himself, with anyone here though. The only person who knew was actively avoiding him like the plague, and Ray was alright with that.

“It’s all mighty personal decisions, havin’ kids.” Ray tried to keep his tone light despite the heavy feeling in his chest. He hadn’t had a talk like this with anyone, really, in a long time. It felt like bearing a piece of his soul and leaving himself open and exposed for someone to tear it away from him.

mischiefmaxed​:

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she liked it when ray called her trouble. when he acknowledged that very prominent part of her personality with a smile and a naivety she didn’t have the heart to shatter. trouble is a way of describing her simply and innocently, almost. 

it made her feel a little less terrible, even on a good day.

“i ain’ decided what i’m stealin’ you for yet, actually,” max corrects with a grin, pulling him all the closer with a hum. “mais, i suppose a dance is a good place to start anyway. what we doin’, somethin’ country?”

Ray could feel her warmth with how close she was. She was still sitting on his bar, of course. Max kept him distracted to get her way, a bit of misdirection that he was sure she had used a hundred times. Tonight he didn’t mind the attention though. With alcohol thrumming through his veins, Ray was more forward than normal. He wasn’t at the sloppy or stupid point and wouldn’t get there tonight, but he could meet the dangerous, teasing look in her eyes easily.

“Somethin’ country? You think that’s all these boots can do? I should be offended, Miss Max.” Another laugh. His hands moved up to her waist and he gave her a nudge forward, reminded once again that she was taking up important bar real estate. “I can bump n’ grind just as good as I can two step.”

addybryant​:

“Oh it is and you know it.” If Ray wasn’t going to toot his own horn she sure as hell was going too. “This is all because of you. Don’t let anyone else say different or I fight them.” Addy puts on her toughest face before bursting into a laugh. She meant it though. Until Ray they had stale beer and no one had thought about a karaoke night. They had done parties like the dance to help everything feel normal but something about this made Addy forget even more about what was actually happening outside their walls.

Maybe it also had to do with the amount she had to drink. “Well Fletcher already pulled me on that stage once so I rather not do that again.” She responded with another laugh. Patting the bar stool next to her, she was honestly just content with pulling Ray aside to sit and relax for a bit. “You on the other hand killed it up there all night. And you were worried about me serenade someone. You gotta have multiple people swooning after a few of your songs.”

“I don’t know ‘bout all of that. I’m just glad people are enjoyin’ themselves.” Ray didn’t feel right taking all of the credit for the event. Maintenance had helped them set everything up. The other employees of the Hard Times were working their butts off to keep up with the crowd. Even the idea for the party came from Kaz, honestly, during a conversation they had had over guitar. Speaking of Kaz, where the heck was he? Ray would be slightly disappointed if he went the entire night without seeing the guy.

“That was just liquid courage comin’ out. Everyone sounds good at karaoke after a coupla drinks.” Another laugh was shared between them and Ray was glad he had found Addy at the event. She was always a ball of sunshine, as fiery as her hair, and Ray enjoyed her company immensely. “This is a nice change of pace. Feels like I’ve been runnin’ ‘round all night. Not that I’m complainin’, of course.”

fletcherbailey​:

Somehow Fletch finds himself seated. Maybe he’s far enough gone things are happening in snapshots. Or maybe the lights inside of the tavern, the movement of people dancing and mingling, and all the music is just making it so easy to move side by side with Ray without a single thought about where his feet are carrying. (It is really probably because he doesn’t have to make a conscious choice about where to go while being led away.)

But he is seated now, and it’s not on the hard wood of the stool. Rather Ray makes it so he’s Fletch’s seat, and well with every stool taken and the booths filled this is about the best way to keep his friend to himself for a minute. “Uh, yeah. You can’t abandon me to go talk to the r'est of the town now, so works for me.” He leans into Ray, kicks his one leg and lets it sway as the added height makes it just so the toes of his Chucks touch the ground. He turns to look at Ray with a soft ‘hmm’?

“My eyes?” He might have heard that a few times, though he thinks they might be a bit… average either way. Every compliment waved off then and now, Fletch just shrugs. “Credit to my father - just about one of the only good things he gave me aside from my stubborn streak and my inability to share my feelings. Thanks, dad!” He waves up toward the ceiling as if toward 'the sky’, then rolls his eyes with a snort. “He’s not much of a talker nowadays.”

The joke is morbid, said in such a blasé tone that Ray was sure that Fletcher was drunk. It was also a deflection, another common tool that Ray had noticed Fletcher use more and more often each time they interacted. Well that wouldn’t do tonight. Ray was tipsy, and happy, and he wanted to flirt with pretty people, thank you very much.

“Good Lord, you make flirtin’ with you hard on purpose.” Ray teased. His head tilted up towards Fletcher, looking at those pretty blue eyes some more from the angle he had. “You really don’t see it, do you?” Ray mused out loud. His flirtation filter was definitely broken now. He’d have time to feel mortified in the morning. The hand that was not wrapped around Fletcher moved up so that Ray could rub his thumb and the back of his knuckles over Fletcher’s jaw line and the stubble there. “Entirely too pretty for your own good, you know that?” Ray’s voice dropped down a bit, but it was still audible for Fletcher to hear with their proximity.