#event four

The Hard Times was alive with energy, and Ray felt it thrumming under his skin. The flyers, with Livia’s help, had turned out gorgeous. Ray hung them around town with the help of some of Fairvale’ citizens, and the hope that someone would turn up for the party. They had the machines dusted off, the guitars tuned, the tables re-arranged, and a brand new beer ready for debut.

Even Ray himself was all shiny and new. He had a successful haircut with Addy, who shaved the sides down so smooth that Ray could feel whenever a gust of wind blew by. Ray also trimmed his beard to be less caveman. The white button down shirt was his last clean top, his jeans and boots were dusted off, and his cowboy hat was out in full effect.

The Hard Times had never looked so full of live and Ray beamed with joy at the turnout. He would never take full credit for anything, but Ray had a hand in planning all of this, and helping it come together, and there was pride in what they had accomplished. Ray had hoped that the town could finish its mourning and turn over a new page, and the residents seemed to agree with him.

It would be wrong to have anyone else start off the night on karaoke. Ray held the mic up to his mouth, just far enough away to avoid feedback, and waited for the crowd to simmer down.

“Good evening, everyone. For those of y’all who don’t know me, I’m Ray. Consider me one of your hosts for the night.” If Fairvale ran off of solar power completely, Ray’s smile could fuel the entire town for tonight. “Thank all y’all for being here tonight to celebrate with us. I’ll be takin’ feedback of the beer, too. Unless it’s negative. That can wait for tomorrow.”

I’ve Got Friends In Low Places was an oldie. Ray loved the simple twang, the ridiculous lyrics, and the general mood of the song. It was a southern karaoke classic and a Garth Brooks masterpiece.

“I figured I’d get us started off on karaoke tonight with an old classic.”

Ray sang his heart out, of course. He had had the song memorized by the age of twelve and didn’t need any screen to assist him with the words. Ray could carry a tune, and a country classic was right in his wheelhouse. He emphasized lyrics, raising his homemade beer glass when the line “and the beer chases my blues away” hits at the chorus and makes a whole performance out of it. By the end of his song there was a flush on his face, a slight sheen of sweat from nerves and all of his moving, and a warm feeling in his chest. This was exactly what he wanted when he arrived to Fairvale, and he can’t help but feel like it was good to go be true, still.

Happy pride month everyone!! The Osemanversenet is excited to announce that our fourth event  is based around the theme of pride. 

Any creations are accepted, we’d love to see everything and anything you make whether it’s a playlist, a fic, or something else. All we ask is that your creation focuses on lgbt+ characters, either through canon identities or ships, or your own headcanons (if it’s a headcanon please mention this in the post). You don’t have to be a member of the network to create something, and we encourage non-member submissions. The event will run throughout the month and will finish on June 30th.

he was standing in the balcony overlooking the garden, joint in his hand, just to silence the voices in his head. not actual voices, not that kind of insane, but the endless thoughts that never led anywhere good. hence the joint in the sunshine, taking a beat to take in some kind of peace.

then he saw azra slink out of the shadows, settling back on the bench with a measure of relaxation no-one else seems to have had in a while. he was going to dissapear down to talk to her when a second azra turned the corner, a hesitation that was far more familiar on her shoulders. 

was he hallucinating a double for her as well? 

but then they started to interact and he remember that only he was real and he watched with half an ear, theories and questions that he didn’t really understand (or care to) being thrown back and forth. 

then the conversation stared to heat up (or cool down, judging from the way that he started to shiver slightly in the warm june air), the double losing its relaxed self-confident air, taking on a more predatory stance and he shifted his weight, ready to jump down if she needed him to interfere. 

the words, the accusations, they echoed in his own brain and dammit this was why he was smoking. love, care, impossibility, and he agreed with the clone even as they were wrong and the clash of two lies battling in his head hurt.

but if those two were the same, and his was the same, but they were both talking about being more powerful - he started to regret not listening earlier, then azra was swinging, desperate in her attacks.

violence threatened, when miniature mountains started to erupt from the ground, and he stumbled as the floor shifted. he stared in shock (apparently he could still be surprised) as azra started to run into the building, then as the reflection moved in a way that could not quite be described as human, cackling in a way that gripped his spine.

there was no universe where azra was like that, so perhaps reflection wasn’t the best word. 

he continued staring, wide eyed, as the - the clone - seemed to evaporate into the shadows.

then the world came crashing back down as the joint burnt down to his fingers, causing him to drop it and reflexively grind it under his foot, before looking hear azra swung open the doors. he vaulted down, transporting himself for the last moment to not feel the impact, then chased her in.

Hello! Welcome to femmefatalenet’s fourth event! 

Event Theme:

Goddesses who deserved better. (This can be any goddess or mythological woman. It’s up to you how to interpret what “deserved better” means. We’d love it if you incorporated that element into your creation!)

Event Info:

Starts January 6 (Saturday) Ends January 13 (next Saturday) Reblog this post to get the word out! Caption your creation as: @femmefatalenet | event four | (goddess name)

they wait for bright minds to bestow the gift of divine inspiration in white-columned halls.

blair looked at them. "are you kidding? he can barely walk! he's not going anywhere."

naomi "that cut is going to get infected if we don't find some real medical equipment. my little first aid kit is not gonna do the job."

blair "but he doesn't need to go anywhere!"

damaris "naomi's right. blair- it'll be worse for daniel if we don't, and, we can take care of his wound quicker if he's with us when we find the supplies!"

micah "what do you think is going to happen if the doctor can't fucking actually see him? the doctor is going to magically heal him from afar? we can carry daniel if we have to. that is, of course, if there is a single living person here who can help him."

naomi "fine blair, don't go if you don't want to. just know that i'm not gonna be the one who amputates him when the time comes. so your choice. do you really want a legless boyfriend?"

blair "amputate him? you couldn't even watch him bleed."

daniel "woah, woah – let's not jump to amputation yet." he interjected, chuckling. "i'm fine. and maybe while we're there we can find some crutches or something, but arguing won't get anything done."

naomi "that's why i said i wasn't gonna do it. selective hearing much?" she repeated the words blair had said to her just a few days ago, "see? he'll be fine. and it's not that long of a walk from here so we can make it."

damaris "would you really rather we leave him behind? or..- or leave you with him, on your own?- it's safer for him to come with the group, and it's safer for you too!" she sent an apologetic look daniel's way, a little too late, "sorry for talking about you like you're not here."

micah "so we're mostly in agreeance--he comes with us, no one's getting their damn leg chopped off, and worse comes to worst we carry him cleopatra style. beautiful," he sighed, not quite fond of illogical arguments.

daniel flashed damaris a smile and a playful wink. "you all know i would hate to miss out on all of this." his shoulders rose into a shrug as his eyes scanned the group before landing on blair. "i'm a sitting duck here – we all need to go." he nodded.

blair "this wouldn't be so bad if we had a fucking van."

verena had been quiet during the groups back and forth. her adrenaline was slowly fading and the reality of the situation hitting her all at once. "let's just go. the person who did this could already be here for all we know and i'm not trying to get chopped up into itty bitty pieces!"

damaris "well we don't." she didn't mean to snap- but there was definite bite to her tone, before she managed to calm down, a little, and amend her words, "we don't, so, walking will have to do. i'm ready when you guys are."

naomi "well i'm ready. and i'm taking my camera. just in case."

micah laughed quietly, "if we had a van, we'd really be ripping off scooby doo. but yeah, let's get going. longer we wait, more likely we all will need help."

blair "i really really don't like this plan," she grumbled, walking over and helping daniel off the bed.

daniel grabbed his backpack and camera, doing his best to hop over towards the door with blair's assistance. "if anyone see any type of pain killers, let me know." he teased. "all set, gang?"

damaris "i've got enough flashlights for all of us, and batteries- can't think of anything else we'd need in a hospital, though."

micah slumped his backpack over his shoulders, heading towards the door. "i got the food and a compilation of whatever info we've gotten before this. i assume we all know where we're going right? like general location?"

naomi "i've got a map." she spoke up, "along with some walkie talkies from yesterday."

daniel "and i've got my camera, tripod, and a worried girlfriend." he teased. "let's do it."

blair let out a huff. "you're not carrying any of that."

damaris "i can take them-" skipping a little closer to daniel and blair, damaris held out her hands to him, "you know i'll take good care of it all."

micah "well, if we're all good and marginally pleased, then lead the way, n--you got the map so it makes the most sense," he advised, gaze turning towards naomi.

daniel rolled his eyes, letting out a long sigh. "my arms work perfectly fine." he groaned. "plus i drank the rest of that whiskey so i can barely feel a thing." he then flashed a grinned. "lead the way, naomi."

naomi walked ahead of everyone, unfolding the map in her hands "right well i'm going to try to keep us off the main road again. to avoid being seen by whatever it was that attack daniel."

blair "are you drunk?"

daniel lazily shrugged his shoulders as his hopped along, "it was the only thing to keep me from wanting to cut my own leg off."

damaris "no amputations, remember? even self inflicted ones."

micah "so that's where the half the bottle went. 'was half expecting it was stolen. but yeah, let's keep far fucking away from whatever could get us into tiny pieces, though that would be a rad way to die."

naomi continued to lead them down the right path "really feels like we're on the walking dead right now. who knows, daniel, maybe you'll get your own cool stump like hershel. he was a badass after all."

blair "it's not funny," blair hissed. "stop talking about amputations, got it?"

damaris "i never watched the walking dead," she said after a moment of silence, steering clear of amputations and trying to latch onto something else, "was never my cup of tea. do they do walks like these often?"

naomi nodded, "yup. they're always on the move. especially when they go out for supply runs. it's really interesting, you should watch it. but warning, the zombies are really gross looking so discretion is advised." she looked up from the map as they made it to the hill "can daniel make that trip?" she asks again, pointing in the direction of the hospital, "or destination is right on top of it."

damaris "i saw the zombies once in one of the trailers..." she shuddered, shaking her head, "no amount of interesting story could make me brave watching them. i'll take your word for it." she looked to daniel and blair, more than a little unsure

micah head turning towards daniel and his leg, having zoned out of the walking dead conversation, micah shrugged, "danny boy could probably make the climb. 'don't know if blair will let him though. he may need multiple assistants, but if he's fucking dying of pain or something then i guess we could leave him down here with someone."

daniel "i can handle it." he assured, giving the group a nod. "it's not that steep."

blair made a face, gesturing up the hill. "be my fucking guest."

naomi "you sure? we can get you a makeshift cane out of one of these tree branches."

daniel "what are you? a wilderness expert now?" he teased, shaking his head. "i've got this – don't worry."

naomi "i've watched enough of the discovery channel to kinda know what i'm doing. but if you say so— let's go before it gets late." she started walking up the hill, pointing her flashlight straight ahead.

blair walked behind daniel just in case he lost his balance.

naomi "well we're here." she said, slightly out of breath and she wiped her palms on her jeans. "we're gonna have to break the lock in the front to get in." she hoped no one would ask how she knew all these things.

daniel "well," he breathed out, doing his best to catch his breath after a difficult journey uphill. "how do you break it?"

micah "what kind of lock is it?" he asked, coming up the rear before having a chance to examine the door, "if you just have to pick it and someone has a bobby pin, then i've done this a few times before."

naomi "i dunno. here." she took the bobby pin from her hair and handed it to him "but i'm pretty sure you can't break into a hospital using a hair pin."

micah "this place is old, right?" he mused, getting on his knees before the front door, "before they had all the technology they do nowadays to make extra secure places. i may be able to get this. if not, we can just fucking break the door down."

damaris "... i'll look for another way in," not confident that they'd manage to pick the lock, nor as okay with breaking down a door as the rest of them, damaris headed off without hesitation to find an alternate entrance 

micah "god damn," he cursed, lifting upwards from the door minutes after damaris left, ruined bobby pin in hand. he turned towards the group, "i tried. so, shall we break this shitty thing down or wait for damaris?"

blair groaned, taking off her knapsack. "stand back,” she instructed, pulling a gun out of her bag.

naomi eyes widened at the sight of the gun "woah, woah where the fuck did that come from?" she asked, blair, taking a step back.

daniel "where the fuck did you get that from?!" he exclaimed, taking a hop back. "how long have you had that?"

micah was about to make the joke "what are you going to do, shoot it?" before she legitimately pulled out a gun. taking a few steps aside, his eyebrows cocked upwards, "i'm damn impressed."

blair shrugged. "i forgot i had it obviously otherwise the asshole that stabbed you would be dead." she turned off the safety and aimed the gun at the lock, shooting it. the sound of the gun and the plink of the lock breaking brought a grin to her face. "see? that was easy."

micah stepped towards the hospital, swinging the doors open. his eyes turned towards blair, hands clapping, before stepping inside. "so, who feels like fucking shit up at an abandoned hospital tonight?"

blair turned the safety back on, sticking the gun into the back of her shorts. "gonna save that for later," she mumbled, putting her knapsack back on.

naomi "we're not here to do that. just get things for daniel and then head back." naomi pulled her camera out and started taking pictures of her surroundings "so this is the infamous silverwood hospital."

daniel stood in disbelief, his mouth agape at the events that had just taken place. "what the hell just happened."

blair "you guys act like you've never seen someone shoot something before," she shrugged, following naomi.

damaris the van parked up round the side of the hospital had seemed pretty familiar at a distance... but, as damaris had gotten cautiously closer, she'd felt her heart speed up- it was, without a doubt, cristian's van. he was supposed to be...- well, anywhere but there. he'd ditched- why was his van outside the hospital? she'd been inching forwards intent on trying one of the doors to see was it unlocked when the sound of the gunshot made her jump out of her skin, and, with one regretful look its way, damaris turned on her heel and ran back the way she'd come. "what- the- heck- was- that-" she spluttered, looking from the open door to the group stood by it... and the gun, resting in blair's hands, "did you shoot the door?"

micah "yeah, blair shot the door and it was fucking badass." he was still quite impressed with the situation, "find anything, damaris?"

damaris "you can't just...- i heard that from all the way 'round the hospital! listen-" she didn't like the idea of a loud noise having gone out, now she'd seen the van. too much about the situation was making her uncomfortable. dropping her voice, damaris continued rapidly, "cristian's van is around the side. and before you say anything- /it's his van/. i'm sure. but i don't...- i don't understand why."

naomi turned to face damaris, confused by what she had just said. "so he's up there. i knew he was pulling some type of prank." but things didn't add up. they had been here a week and it would have been unlikely for cristian to of had been camping up in the hospital for that long just to make a stupid joke "well.. he's gotta be here somewhere."

daniel "so you mean to tell me that fucker was here the entire time?" daniel perked a brow, crossing his arms against his chest before remembering he could barely balance himself. "let's find that jackass."

micah would be completely lying if there wasn't some small joy in knowing that his best friend was possibly near, though it quickly fell with the possibilities of the wretched things that could have happened. "getting daniel fixed, finding cristian--sounds like a good night. should we get daniel on one of those beds over there? start searching for medical shit? look for cris later or do have search for cris half stay here?"

naomi "me, micah and vee and go look for him and you guys can stay here to look for supplies? since blair knows what to look for." she suggested

blair pulled the cleanest looking wheelchairs and wheeled it over to daniel. "want a ride, hot stuff?"

daniel pulled a smirk across his lips as he took a few hops in her direction. "thank you, my sexy, gun shooting girlfriend."

blair snorted in response. "are we using the walkies?"

daniel nods, "it's in my bag and naomi has hers."

naomi "yup, got mine with me. micah, you ready to go?"

micah "yeah, yeah. we should leave some extra batteries with them for their flashlights before we go, probably."

blair "damaris, has definitely got that covered, trust me."

naomi pulled some batteries from her bag "here, just in case." she gave them all a small smile "alright. we'll shout if we find anything."

micah "we'll also shout if there's some weird supernatural shit happening and we're dying, so don't trust if you hear screams," he joked, though probably inappropriate to do so at that time. to naomi, he suggested, "we should definitely start at the van. see if he left any clues to sleuth out."

blair "or maybe just use the walkie," she chuckled. "you guys should take harley," she mentioned, making sure she had maris before wheeling daniel away.

naomi nudged him, "cut it out," she bent down to pet harley and nodded "yeah, we'll take her. plus blair has a gun to protect y'all." she began walking back from where they came from, looking over at micah. "hopefully he left the keys in there."

daniel "you guys got her last time," he reasoned, shaking his head. "we get her."

naomi "you've got your girlfriend who knows how to shoot, kickbox and has medical care experience. you're better off without harley!"

micah "hey, hey, hey, the only reason why harley is here is because of naomi and i. plus, the dog can sniff out cris easier than the three of us on our own," micah replied, protective over his dog. he shifted back to naomi, "i know where he keeps a spare, if that counts."

daniel knew they had good points, so he let out a huff. "fine," he mumbled. "take her."

naomi nodded "okay then. let's do this. come on vee." she gestured for the girl to follow them.

blair "wow, thanks babe."

verena did as she was told and followed naomi, glancing back at the others as she walked away.

micah "god, watch cris just be fucking sleeping in his van, claiming he wanted to find all this shit on his own. i'd be impressed if a man could sleep through a gun shot, but wouldn't put it past him."

naomi "don't put it past him. that is a real cristian thing to do and not at all surprising."

daniel "well, wheel away, baby!" daniel chimed. "we've got a leg to repair!"

verena "what if we never find him? i know thats liks bad to say or whatever, but what happens if cris never shows up?"

blair shook her head and wheeled him down the hall, peeking into rooms for potential supplies with damaris.

micah "cristian is many things, but good at hiding is not one of them. but, guess we assume he's dead and murder any fuckers who try to tempt us with his death," micah shrugged, mind in its usual darkness even when about cristian.

verena gasped at how casual his dark words fell from his lips. "that's horrible."

daniel "can you believe c is still here?" he asked, peering up at blair. "what the fuck is his deal?"

blair made a face signalling for him not to talk about it and nodded toward damaris.

naomi "you get used to it" she told verena as they approached the van.

daniel "it was a shitty thing to do." he mumbled, shaking his head. "but what are we exactly looking for?"

micah "look, what do you want me to say? if cris is really gone then yeah, i want to avenge him or some shit," he spoke coolly, though was genuinely curious as to her answer. as they neared the van, micah nodded, "damaris was right, this is definitely the old van. it doesn't look like anyone has touched it from this side of it."

blair squeezed his shoulder gently as the continued to make their way down the hall. "i wouldn't trust drugs, but any supplies still in packaging would be ideal."

naomi "let's not think like that yet. not until we have some evidence to think otherwise." she snorted,"did you expect there to be werewolf claw marks all over it?" she opened the door on the drivers side and sighed as it wasn't locked. "well, he's not in here."

micah "some evidence to think otherwise," he replied to her sarcastic comment on what he expected, "it is weird though that he didn't lock it. he fucking loves this car and would die before letting anyone take it." he trailed around the vans, looking intently for blood, scrapes, the like. "yeah, no, the van is still in pique condition. what about the inside?"

verena me "good idea..." verena clutched her flashlight tighter as they approached the van, ready for anything to jump out and spook her.

naomi "well he's not in here." she closes the door and takes a step back. "do you have anything of his? so harley can smell it and help us track him down?"

micah "not on me, no, but you may be able to find some shit in the compartment between the driver and passenger shit. he may keep a rosary there. that, or we can hit up the trunk and see if he has a jacket back there or something," micah suggested, guessing the question was directed at him.

verena "uh, the van perhaps? i don't know but im pretty sure its got cristian scent all over it."

naomi opened the door on the drivers side again and leaned over to open the compartment, pulling out the rosary micah was talking about. "here we go." she bent down to get harley to smell it "come on girl, help us find this asshole."

demon suddenly a loud static shot through naomi's walkie talkie

naomi heard the noise and she pulled the walkie talkie from her backpack. "uh.. you guys alright?" she asked, looking over at verena and micah.

micah "what the fuck," he spoke under his breath after his head whipped towards the walkie, hearing the noise.

blair made it to the end of the hallway. "oh, an operating room," she chirped, propping the door open and going in.

demon a whisper could be heard behind the static

verena "okay what the fuck is wrong with your walkie naomi?"

naomi "very funny daniel. i swear its him. he picks the worst times to mess with us." naomi got up, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

blair made her way into the room. "wow, there's a lot of good stuff in here."

verena rolled her eyes. "shouldn't he be in like, immense amounts of pain right now? how could he possibly have a sense of humor right now?"

micah was very rarely frightened, finding most of the supernatural utterly illogical. thus, took naomi's rational explanation well. it helped that harley also seemed to be picking up a trail, which he brought to the attention of the others, "eh, he's also bored and alone probably. let's follow harley.”

demon blair's voice echoed through the walkie but the voice in the static could still be heard in the background.

naomi "jesus fuck" she cursed, turning the volume up to hear blair's voice. "this is so gross i'm like, one hundred percent sure they're fucking." she let out a noise of disgust, listening to micah and following behind harley.

demon "closer," the voice gurgled in the background. "closer pretty girl."

micah "definitely fucking. daniel needs to work on his dirty talk. oh god, hopefully damaris doesn't have to watch that shit," he rolled his eyes, still trailing behind harley.

verena "how are they even in the mood? if this were a horror movie-- which it's not, they'd definitely be the first to go!"

demon suddenly daniel and damaris were thrown away and the door blair had propped open slammed shut.

blair spun around. "what the fuck?!"

naomi "this is a horror movie for damaris if she's watching." she jokes, hearing the voice again through the walkie talkie. "okay not this is just straight up creepy."

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. 

the day had been a steady march of interesting events, the conversation with azra a highlight amongst them. to know it wasn’t just him suffering that particular branch of insanity, hallucinations with a face just a touch too close for comfort, threats to step away, a shared vision in this interpretation of life. 

did that lessen the promise? the half acceptance that he had already said? 

one day, he had said to himself, and that day hadn’t seem to come for him just yet, whilst the others had strange occurrences. not yet, but then it was.

he was on his way to grab a bite to eat, perhaps the ice cream he knew was in one of the kitchens, the hunger a strange feeling and he realised that he’d been chasing the sun and not slept in too long. perhaps ice cream, then he would sleep, here for once. 

he was about to step through the open doorway when he heard voices, tow intermingled, and one of them caused him to still, hesitating, half hidden by the frame. 

his own voice, though darker in weight, lighter in colour, the same ever present laughter still tucked behind every syllable. his reflection’s voice, he realises, talking to lailani.

some form of curiosity overwhelms him and he stays in the shadows as his reflection holds up a finger against his lips, a flash of movement as laila busies herself with something. there’s laughter in the air, a relaxed sense that he longs to bring, to breathe, to dwell within. 

some form of jealousy then, as well, that his insanity, his hallucination can be perceived by anyone other than himself (though he saw azra;s earlier and has no right to complain), that his reflection may belong even better than he does (but wasn’t that why he half agreed to leave? to become better, to not need anyone? to take a step to not being himself anymore?).

then laila reaches for his reflection, that comforting touch he always leans into, but his not-self dances away.

and he can picture her face, the confusion, the shock, and betrayal curdles in his gut - that something wearing his face would hurt her, even as they had claimed to not need them.

he opens the door fully, loudly, strides into the kitchen with a grace and an ease he half has. he’s acted before he’s thought, again, and there’s a beat before he speaks, some excuse coming unbidden to his tongue.