Javier Mondragón

Dragon | 772 Years | Closed Blog for Dark Skies RP

[traegics]

Kaidan came to a stop a few steps back, taking in the way Javi was squaring off with the restaurant window like it had personally offended him.

He didn’t comment on it right away.

“Lost in your head,” Kaidan repeated, dry, a brow lifting slightly. “Shocking. I was starting to think you’d found a new hobby—staring contests with reflective surfaces.”

His gaze flicked to the window, then down the street, clocking the options without attaching meaning to them. Just terrain. Light. Noise. Flow of people.

“You look like you’re deciding whether to walk into a trap,” he said, tone even, not unkind. “If it’s a bad meal, you leave. If it’s loud, you talk louder. None of this is irreversible.”

A pause. Then, more grounded:

“You’ve been wound tight all week,” Kaidan added, eyes back on Javi. “If you’re trying to pick somewhere to breathe for an hour, pick the quieter place. Less chaos. More room to think.”

He stepped past him, then stopped, glancing back.

“And for the record—standing on a sidewalk overanalyzing menus is a worse look than any restaurant you could choose. Commit to something and go sit down.”

Not a command. Just the kind of nudge that came from someone who knew when Javi was spiraling.

[javimondragon]

Javi was quiet for a few moments longer as his gaze picked apart a few other aspects of the establishment through the large glass window that separated them. When he finally turned to his rider, he shook his head with a small smile. "Your concern is appreciated, but misplaced today. I am not seeking refugio for myself. Not today." He explained.

"When you first started getting to know your mate," He began and turned to face the High Lord, "How did you make certain that everything was perfecto?" He allowed the question to hang for just a moment before he inhaled. "I met a young woman. Ellington. She's one of the many Mikaelsons to call this city their home." He cracked a smirk, "I suppose yo debería darte las gracias, since we would not have crossed paths had it not been for your storm all those months ago."

He adjusted his weight on his feet and continued. "She's agreed to a date - simple dinner. Yet I find myself paralyzed trying to decide where I should take her. Should I take her somewhere closer to her home - within this city? Should I take her to one of the Courts? Will it be too uncomfortable or too casual..." The dragon shook his head and chuckled at himself.

[traegics]

Reina had paused a few steps away, drawn less by the restaurant and more by the familiar, restless energy rolling off her brother. She watched him for a moment—hands in pockets, weight rocking back and forth, eyes locked on the window like he was waiting for it to give him answers.

When he turned with that sheepish apology, her brow lifted, amused.

“Lost in your head,” she echoed lightly. “That tracks. You’ve always treated sidewalks like meditation chambers.”

She followed his glance to the window, then back to him, curiosity soft but present. “You look like you’re trying to decide something important. Or trying very hard not to decide it.” A small smirk tugged at her mouth. “Which is usually worse.”

Reina shifted her weight, the streetlight catching the warm tones in her hair. “If you’re debating whether to eat here or two blocks down, my advice is simple: pick the place that smells better.” She tipped her chin toward the door. “Your instincts are usually solid when you let them be.”

A beat. Then gentler: “You don’t have to map the whole night before you take the first step, Javi.”

She bumped his shoulder once, familiar and grounding. “Come on. Whatever you’re overthinking, it’ll still be there after dinner.”

[javimondragon]

A slow, dragged out sigh escaped the dragon at the sound of his sister's voice. His shoulders dropped and he craned his neck to gaze skyward as he closed his eyes for a brief moment. "I am only a couple decades shy of being eight hundred years old, hermanita, and yet making a decision like this feels like the hardest thing I've done in centuries." He laughed out dryly.

"I asked someone on a date." He admitted softly. "Ellington Mikaelson. She's... beautiful, Reina. Inside and outside, she's brilliant. So kind and she just brings with her this light that warms my entire body whenever she's around." Javi grinned softly as his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "You caught me in the middle of trying to decide the perfect place to take her." He sighed.

[traegics]

violet had clocked him a minute ago — not because he was loud, but because he had that coiled energy people got when they were standing still and thinking too hard. she was cutting across the block when he finally turned, apology already in his mouth.

she stopped, heat rolling off her in lazy waves, eyes flicking from his face to the window he’d been silently negotiating with.

“you’ve been staring at that glass like it owes you money,” she said, voice low, dry. “either it’s winning the argument, or you are. hard to tell from here.”

her gaze slid down the street, mapping the lights and shadows with a predator’s ease, then back to him.

“city rule,” violet added. “if you stand still too long, the block starts making decisions for you. usually bad ones.”

a beat. her mouth curved, just barely.

“so—either go in,” she nodded at the restaurant, “or keep moving. but don’t let the sidewalk pick for you.”

she started to pass him, then paused half a step ahead, glancing back over her shoulder.

“and hey,” she said, not unkind, “whatever’s got you that deep in your head? it’s not gonna solve itself by staring through plate glass.”

[javimondragon]

"Un momento, Violeta. I think I've just about got this glass to submit and pay double." Javi played along with a smirk before turning his attention to the younger woman. "Nah, it's not that. I was trying to figure out if it would be acceptable enough to bring my... friend for a quiet meal." He explained and reached up to scratch the back of his head. "No sabo. I think it might be fancier than what I'm looking for." He shrugged his shoulders lightly.

"What mischief have you been causing?" He questioned, tone light and jesting. "We both know how difficult it can be for you to behave sometimes." He continued to tease.

[traegics]

Oaklee slowed when she clocked him standing there, half-leaning back on his heels like the sidewalk might give him better answers if he stared long enough. She wasn’t trying to interrupt—just passing through Lantern Row on her way home—but the way he muttered to his reflection in the glass made her pause.

“Hey,” she said gently when he finally turned, keeping her tone easy, non-intrusive. “You okay?”

She stopped a respectful distance away, hands still in her jacket pockets, eyes flicking once to the restaurant window and back to his face. Not nosy. Just checking.

“You look like you’re mid-argument with your own thoughts,” Oaklee added, a faint, sympathetic smile touching her mouth. “Happens to the best of us.”

A beat, then she gestured down the street where the lights blurred into evening.

“If you’re stuck deciding something, stepping away from it usually helps,” she offered. “City’s loud when you stand still too long.”

Her wolf stirred, curious but calm, and she tilted her head slightly.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” Oaklee said. “Just—sometimes it helps to be reminded you’re not the only one pacing holes in the sidewalk.”

[javimondragon]

The dragon's brows raised at the sudden voice and a smile crept onto his face. "Oaklee," He greeted and turned to face her, "No, no, I'm fine. I was simply... stuck trying to make some decisions." He chuckled out softly. As she offered her advice, Javi let out a quiet hum and pursed his lips just slightly - as if the motion made it easier to mull over her words.

"Perhaps you're right." He agreed at length. "Mira, I am going in circles trying to find the perfect spot for a... uh, date." He explained, finding the admission a tad more embarrassing than he anticipated. "Pero, what are you up to? On your way to find mi hermanito?" He smiled once more.

[traegics]

Ellington froze for exactly half a second at the sudden sincerity — not because she didn’t like it, but because she wasn’t used to being spoken to that plainly without some kind of edge attached.

Her cheeks warmed properly this time. She let out a small, breathy laugh and instinctively looked down at where his hands caught hers, then back up at him, eyes a little wide with that soft, caught-off-guard honesty she didn’t bother hiding.

“Okay, wow,” she said quietly. “You can’t just—” she gestured vaguely between them, flustered but smiling, “—say things like that and expect me to keep my composure. That’s rude.”

She shifted her grip slightly, not pulling away, just grounding herself in the moment. “For the record, I’m very bad at processing compliments in real time,” she admitted, a little shy. “But… thank you.”

A beat. Then, softer, more certain:

“I like you too,” Elli said. “And I’d like it to be a date. Not because it has to mean anything bigger, but because I think it’s okay to call it what it is when something feels… intentional.”

She ducked her head again, smiling at the ground before looking back up. “Sin expectativas,” she echoed gently. “That part I’m very on board with.”

Her thumb brushed lightly against his hand — tentative, warm. “So yeah,” she finished, voice still soft but steadier now. “Dinner. On purpose. A date. We’ll let it be whatever it wants to be.”

Then, because she was still Ellington and couldn’t sit in the vulnerability too long without a little humor:

“And if you call me exquisita again in public,” she added with a shy grin, “I might actually combust. So fair warning.”

[javimondragon]

The dragon let out a soft laugh at the wave of shyness and embarrassment that washed over the witch, and the warmth and rosy color that rose into her cheeks. "Perdon." He offered lightly. "But you are very welcome." He nodded.

The grin that stretched across Javier's face was nothing short of excited and brimming with warmth - wide, toothy, and reaching ear to ear. For a moment, heat rippled from his body in such a way that anyone could have sworn that had he possessed his wings in his mortal form they would have been fluttering with a youthful giddiness. "Yeah? Really?" He questioned as she shared her feelings towards him. Reining himself back in to reclaim his composure, he cleared his throat lightly and straightened his posture. "How about... this weekend? I'll find us somewhere nice. Romantico, but not too much. Just... simple." He smiled.

At her shy grin and wry humor, the corner of Javi's mouth lifted into an amused smirk. "I suppose it's pretty handy that I'm pretty comfortable with flames then, isn't it?" He joked back.

[javimondragon]

Javi stood on the sidewalk with his hands in his jacket pockets, rocking back on his heels as he stared at the restaurant’s front window like it might blink first.

Too loud? Maybe.

Too quiet? Definitely not enough ambiance.

Romantic but not trying too hard - that was the line; that was the impossible task. He replayed Elli’s smile in his head like it was a measuring tool, trying to see if it fit this place or the one two blocks down with the string lights and the suspiciously earnest chalkboard menu.

He exhaled, slow, rubbing a thumb along the seam of his pocket. "Tranquilo." He silently told himself. This wasn’t a battle plan. It was dinner. Just dinner. A table, food that didn’t require a glossary, and enough atmosphere to feel intentional without screaming 'I Googled “perfect date spots” at 2 a.m. before I remembered the Internet isn't a thing anymore.'

Javi glanced down the street, mentally mapping options like a chessboard - warm lighting versus window seating; cozy versus interesting; a place where conversation could stretch without being rushed. Somewhere she’d feel comfortable lingering. Somewhere that felt like him, but left room for her.

A laugh slipped out of him under his breath as he caught his reflection in the glass. "Dios mío," he murmured, shaking his head fondly. He’d faced down things that actually wanted him dead without overthinking this much.

Still - this mattered.

Decision hovering just out of reach, Javi finally stepped away from the window and turned to the sound of a voice that apparently - from the tone - had been trying to get his attention for a few moments now. "Sorry. I was lost in my head there." He offered with a sheepish smile.

( @darkskiesrpgstarters )

[traegics]

Ellington slowed, just a touch — enough that the pause between steps felt intentional instead of accidental. She looked down at the lantern swinging at her side, then back up at him, cheeks warming despite herself.

“…Okay,” she said softly, a small, almost nervous laugh slipping out. “I just want to make sure I’m not wildly misreading this.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a tell she didn’t bother hiding. “When you say dinner on purpose,” she continued, voice gentle, “are you asking me on a date?” A beat. “Or is this a very sincere, very well-planned dinner between two people who are being aggressively chill about it?”

Her smile was shy but real, eyes flicking to his and then away again. “I’m fine either way,” she added quickly, then winced a little at herself. “—Not that I mean I don’t care. I just mean… I like knowing what page I’m on.”

She nudged his arm lightly, almost apologetic. “I’m bad at assumptions,” she admitted. “They usually end with explosions. Or feelings. Or both.”

[javimondragon]

The curl at Javi's lips had practically cemented itself in permanence as Ellington didn't outright laugh at him or dismiss his question. "Uh, yeah. I mean, unless that's too much. We don't have to call it a date. It can just be... hanging out, if that's what you want." Javi explained and let out a small breath as the smile on his face softened. "Ellington, I like you, yeah? You are... such a genuine soul. Kind and sweet...beautiful. I just want to spend more time with you." The dragon rubbed the back of his neck once more.

"So... just dinner. Sin expectativas. It doesn't have to be anything more than you want or decide it to be." He took her hands lightly into his own once more. "Eres exquisita, Ellington".

[traegics]

Saint let out a low chuckle at that, shoulders loosening a fraction as the heat settled into something he could read instead of something he had to brace against.

“Good,” he said easily. “Because I left my starting something pants at home.”

He shifted his weight, boots scraping lightly against the stone, hands staying visible and relaxed. The warmth rolling off Javi didn’t bother him — not much did, these days — but he respected it. Same way he respected anything that could burn a city down if it decided to stop being polite.

“Santiago Becerra,” he offered, tapping two fingers against his chest. “Saint. And yeah, panic and I broke up a long time ago.”

At the mention of Summer, Saint glanced toward the shimmering veil again, lips pressing together in a thoughtful line.

“Trust me,” he said, dry amusement threading his voice, “pissing off a Court on purpose is way above my current pay grade. I just try to keep people from doing it accidentally.”

His gaze returned to Javi, sharper now but still open.

“You got that look,” Saint added. “The one people get when something’s pulling at them and they’re deciding whether to answer.”

A beat. Not judgment. Just observation.

“If Summer’s calling your name,” he went on, “you don’t look like the type who ignores it. But you also don’t look reckless enough to jump without checking the landing.”

A faint smirk tugged at his mouth.

“So no,” Saint finished, nodding once. “I’m not worried. Just… paying attention.”

He gestured loosely to the space between them, to the heat, the gold light, the listening air.

“And if this turns into one of those above my pay grade situations,” he added, tone light but sincere, “I’d rather know the guy standing in the middle of it before things get loud.”

[javimondragon]

A soft curl of the dragon's lips greeted Saint's introduction and joking words. "Don't worry, amigo." Javi reassured the man with a small hand wave and shaking of his head. "The Courts are not so precarious that visitations will see them fall into turmoil. "My family and I are dragons - like the creatures of your legends, but much more as well. We make our home in the Night Court of Valaria." Javi explained.

"Night and Summer are on amicable terms. It is Autumn you have to pay close attention to where our Court is concerned. Jaded history, those two." He shrugged his shoulders slightly. Javi looked the man over for a moment before the curl at his lips deepened. "Are you curious? Come - walk through with me. Summer truly is a sight to behold for oneself, as are all of the fae courts." He nodded his head towards the rippling veil.

[traegics]

Ellington didn’t answer right away. She walked a few steps ahead of him, boots crunching softly against stone, giving herself a second to let his words settle without rushing to smooth them over with humor.

“‘Anchor,’ huh?” she said at last, glancing back over her shoulder with a faint, amused lift of her brow. “Careful. Say things like that and people might start thinking you’re sentimental.”

But there was no bite in it. Just warmth she didn’t bother hiding.

She slowed so they were side by side again, lantern light brushing their shadows together. “I appreciate that,” she added more quietly. “Not rushing it. Not turning it into some grand spectacle. I don’t need legends.” A small shrug. “I grew up in a family full of those. They tend to leave out the parts that actually matter.”

At his question, her mouth curved — not a smile exactly, more a recognition of shared chaos.

“My family?” She exhaled through a soft laugh. “Define ‘adjusting.’ Half of them are pretending this is all temporary. The other half are already planning how to control it. Very on brand.”

She glanced toward the fractured skyline, then back to him. “I’m… somewhere in the middle. Trying to figure out what’s worth keeping and what deserves to be rebuilt differently.” A pause. “The Broken City makes it hard to lie to yourself. I think that’s why I’m still standing.”

Her gaze softened, steady and sincere. “So yeah. I want to see Valaria. Not because it’s beautiful — though I’m sure it is — but because it sounds like a place that doesn’t ask you to be smaller to survive.”

She nudged his arm again, lighter this time. Grounded. Present.

“And for the record,” she added, that wry edge returning just enough, “if I’m your anchor, you’re absolutely helping me carry groceries the next time you’re in my world. I'll even pay you a pastries tax.”

[javimondragon]

Javi laughed under his breath, shoulders easing even as something warmer tightened in his chest. “Groceries I can do,” he said, glancing at her sidelong, the lantern catching the curve of his grin. “Pastries tax, though? That’s dangerous territory.” He smiled. “You’re right about legends,” The dragon let out a quiet breath, “They make everything loud and shiny so no one notices what it cost. I’ve never been good at the shiny part anyway.” After a small pause, he continued in a softer tone. “I like the parts that matter.”

They walked a few steps in companionable silence, the Broken City breathing around them. Javi’s gaze tracked the fractured skyline before returning to her, earnest and a little vulnerable. “Valaria doesn’t make you smaller,” he said. “It asks you to show up as you are; the fire, the fear, all of it. Sometimes it’s a lot, but it’s honest.” He swallowed, nerves flickering across his expression. “And I, uh, I like who you are when you’re honest like that.”

He slowed, then stopped; not dramatic, just deliberate. Hands tucked into his jacket like they needed somewhere to be. “So… um.” He gave the young witch a crooked, nervous smile. “Would you maybe want to do a real dinner? Like, on purpose. No legends, no expectations; just food that requires a plate and conversation that doesn’t end because the world’s on fire.” He scratched the back of his neck, exhaling. “I can pick the place - or you can. Lo que tú prefieras. And I promise to carry the groceries after.”

[traegics]

Ignacio felt him before he saw him.

That was the curse of blood this old — the way dragonfire recognized its own long before eyes ever caught up. The warmth thickened, sharpened, shifted from ambient Summer glow to something tighter, more familiar. A living ember moving closer.

He stood just inside the reach of the veil, half in goldlight, half in shadow — leather jacket finally worn this time, arms crossed over a chest mapped in ink and scars. The Summer air kissed his skin without asking permission. He tolerated it. Didn’t melt into it the way some did. Fire respected fire, but it never trusted it.

When Javi’s voice reached him, Iggy’s mouth curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile.

“Siempre con el drama,” he said aloud, low and dry, before he even turned fully. “If the Summer Court wanted you dead, mijo, you wouldn’t be admiring the flowers.”

He pivoted then, molten amber eyes landing on his son with the kind of weight only a father like him carried — relief masked as irritation, pride buried under bark and ash. Smoke curled faintly from Iggy’s own nostrils as he exhaled, instinct answering instinct.

“You’re not trapped,” he went on, uncrossing his arms, posture loosening just enough to look casual. “And you’re not ‘just looking.’ Dragons don’t wander this far unless something’s chasing them. Or pulling.”

His gaze flicked, briefly, to the veil — the hum of Summer magic threading the air — then back to Javi, sharper now.

“And don’t tell me you didn’t feel it,” Iggy added, voice dropping. “This place sings to fire. Same way it always has.”

A pause. Then, quieter — not soft, but honest in that brutal way he’d never learned to sand down:

“You alright?”

It was the closest he ever came to I was worried.

[javimondragon]

Javi let out a slow breath, smoke slipping from his nose as he stopped in front of him. “Siempre con el drama, yeah - I learned it from you,” he said, the familiar edge there more from habit than heat. He held Ignacio’s gaze this time; didn’t dodge it, didn’t soften it. “I’m not being pulled. Not by Summer. Not by anything out here.” His eyes flicked briefly toward the veil, then back. “I came because it’s quiet enough to lie to myself for a minute.”

His jaw tightened as the truth settled heavier. “Night feels different now,” Javi went on, voice lower, steadier than he felt. “Every hall, every balcony - there’s this space where Raquel should be.” A pause, breath careful. “And she isn’t. Triad took her months ago, and some days my head still expects to hear her voice like nothing changed.” Heat stirred under his skin, restless but contained. “Summer doesn’t fix that. It just doesn’t echo.”

When Ignacio asked if he was alright, Javi didn’t answer right away. He shifted his weight, boots grinding softly against stone, then met his father’s eyes again. “I’m standing,” he said simply. “Breathing. Not burning anything down.” He gave the male a faint, wry twitch of his mouth. “I know hiding won’t bring her back, but standing here for a minute keeps me from breaking something important.” He inclined his head, respect clear, before shaking it slowly. “I’m not alright. I'm... lost, papá. I’m grieving in ways I should have grieved months ago.”

[traegics]

Kennedy’s brows lifted a fraction at that — not surprised so much as amused — and a soft huff of laughter slipped out before she could stop it.

“Relax,” she said, tone easy, waving off the concern with two fingers. “Good press. Mostly.”

She took his offered hand, grip firm but brief, warm sand shifting under her boots as the tide breathed in around them. Up close, the dragonfire hum under his skin was undeniable — not loud, not threatening. Just…there. Like a furnace banked low.

“Elli has a habit of mentioning people when they make an impression,” Kennedy added, brown eyes steady on his as she let go. “You apparently fall under ‘solid presence, doesn’t talk just to hear himself speak’. Which, trust me, is high praise.”

She slid her hands back into her jacket pockets, shoulders loosening as the breeze tugged at her braid.

“And no,” she went on lightly, nodding toward the water, “you don’t read as someone who owns places. More like someone who understands when to leave them alone.”

A beat passed — comfortable, unforced.

“As for borrowing Summer when your head gets loud?” A faint smirk curved her mouth. “Relatable. Mine gets loud when things stop breaking. I don’t trust it.”

She glanced back out at the waves, then sideways at him again.

“So,” Kennedy said, casual as the surf, “you here to think… or pretend you’re not thinking and see which one wins?”

[javimondragon]

Javi let out a quiet laugh, shoulders easing as he watched the tide roll in and out like it was thinking alongside them. “Good press, mostly. I’ll take that,” he said, warmth threading his voice. He glanced at her, a little sheepish but pleased. “Solid presence, huh? Eh, well, I don't know about all of that. I've just talked to her.” He rubbed the back of neck with soft embarrassment and, with a softer tone, added, “I’m glad I made a good kind of impression.”

He followed her gaze to the water, boots shifting in the sand as the breeze tugged at his jacket. “I get that,” he admitted. “When things stop breaking, my brain starts poking at them like it’s suspicious. Like - un momento, are we sure this is allowed?” He released a faint huff of a laugh. “Summer just happened to be where my feet decided to carry me this afternoon.”

At her question, he tipped his head, considering, then smiled; small and honest. “I think I came to pretend,” he said. “But if thinking sneaks up on me while I’m at it, I won’t fight it.” He glanced back at her, easy and present. “Call it a draw?”

[traegics]

Elijah listened without interruption, his pace matching Javier’s even as the words shifted the air between them. When Javi finished, Elijah didn’t rush to fill the quiet. He allowed it to exist — honored it — the way one does when something sacred has been named.

“That,” Elijah said at last, voice low and even, “is a rare gift.” He kept his eyes forward, respectful of the truth Javier had just laid bare. “To be seen not as a role, nor a consequence, but as a whole being — fire and restraint alike.”

He inclined his head slightly, as though acknowledging Raquel herself. “She did not soften you,” he continued. “She balanced you. There is a difference. One diminishes; the other teaches you how to carry your strength without being consumed by it.”

They walked a few more steps before Elijah spoke again, quieter now. “What you are feeling is not the absence of guidance,” he said. “It is the absence of witness. Someone who remembered you before the world demanded you become more than a boy.” A pause. “That kind of knowing leaves an echo.”

He glanced at Javier then — steady, grounded. “The quiet you describe is not emptiness. It is space. Uncomfortable, yes. But space is where choice lives.” A faint, thoughtful breath. “Raquel gave you the language to breathe through fire. The rest…” He gestured subtly toward Javier’s chest. “…she trusted you to learn on your own.”

The Summer wind stirred again, warm and alive. Elijah faced forward once more.

“You do not dishonor her by feeling this loss,” he said gently. “Nor by standing upright despite it.” A beat. “If the noise grows too loud, remember — strength is not proven by endurance alone. It is proven by knowing when to walk beside another.”

Then, without pressing, without claiming:

“We can continue,” Elijah said quietly. “Or we can stop here awhile. Either way — you need not carry it alone.”

[javimondragon]

Javi listened without interrupting, the way he’d learned to when words mattered more than filling the air. Elijah’s cadence settled over him like a steady hand at his back, not guiding, not pushing - just there. He nodded once at the distinction, the corner of his mouth tightening with something like recognition. “She would’ve liked that,” he murmured.

They walked on, boots finding an easy rhythm. When Elijah named the absence for what it was, Javi’s gaze dropped to the path ahead, jaw flexing as if the ground itself required his attention. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Witness.” The word landed and stayed. “It’s strange. Knowing the language, like you said, but missing the voice that taught it.” Smoke traced the air on his exhale, then thinned. “Some days it feels like I’m translating myself into a dialect no one else speaks yet.”

He glanced at Elijah then, gratitude plain and unguarded. “I don’t think I realized how much she trusted me until she wasn’t there to check my work anymore.” A soft, almost self-deprecating huff. “Turns out that’s heavier than any order.”

At the choice, Javi didn’t hesitate. He shifted his pace just enough to fall in step beside him again, deliberate and sure. “I do not wish to keep you from other matters you might have, Señor. Though, I would not mind continuing,” he said. “Talking helps. And I...” a brief pause, honest and unadorned, “...I don’t want the quiet to win today.”

[javimondragon]

Javi barked a laugh, sharp and unrepentant, smoke curling faintly from the corner of his mouth before he caught it. “Mírame, you’re the one threatening funerals over a Santa hat,” he shot back, chin lifting as he flicked a look at the drumstick like it might actually be lethal. “I’m just saying, Sebastián, hipotéticamente, she’d pull it off. You’d hate it; the crowd would lose their minds; and somehow I’d still get blamed.” His grin cut wide and unapologetic, pride humming under it like a bassline he’d known his whole life.

He sobered just a touch at the word balance, shoulders settling as he followed Sebastián’s glance toward the stage, the gathering noise and anticipation pressing in. “Yeah,” he said more quietly, voice warm with heat and something steadier beneath it. “That’s you, too, whether you like it or not. You keep the rhythm when the rest of us wanna burn or break.” Javi reached out, knocking his knuckles lightly against Sebastián’s arm; a grounding touch, familiar and protective. “Fire’s loud. The middle’s where things actually last.”

At the question, he didn’t hesitate. “Front row,” Javi replied, decisive. “Where I can see your face when it goes sideways and pretend I had nothing to do with it.” His grin flashed again, feral and fond all at once. “And if you end up in that hat - Dios me ayude - I’ll be right there suffering with you. Family obligation.” He tilted his head, eyes bright. “Besides; chaos is kind of our thing.”

[vilisisms]

sebastián snorted, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off the image of a santa hat before it could manifest. “family obligation, my ass,” he said, bumping javi back with his elbow. “you’d be enjoying every second of it and you know it. pretending to suffer while secretly telling people, ‘sí, that’s my brother.’” his grin lingered, but it eased into something steadier when javi talked about the middle—about things lasting. he tapped the stick against his thigh again, slower this time, grounding. “yeah,” he said quietly. “guess somebody’s gotta keep you idiots from turning the whole night into a crater.” a glance sideways, fond and sharp. “and apparently that somebody’s me.”

he nodded toward the stage as the noise swelled, anticipation thick in the air. “front row it is, then. no excuses. no disappearing the second things get loud.” his grin kicked back in, crooked and dangerous. “and when it does go sideways? i’m blaming you. loudly. on mic.” he lifted the sticks once, a quick salute just for his brother. “thanks for staying,” he added, softer than the rest. then, louder—because he couldn’t help himself—“now shut up and watch me make bad decisions in real time.”

[traegics]

Oaklee’s shoulders eased at that — not dramatically, not all at once, but enough that the tension she’d been carrying stopped feeling like a brace and more like a habit she could set down for a minute.

She looked back out over the city as he spoke, listening the way she always did when someone wasn’t trying to perform concern.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “That tracks. This place gets loud and my feet do the same thing.” A faint huff of a smile. “Guess the city trains us whether we ask it to or not.”

At the mention of Sebastián, her mouth curved — small, instinctive, honest.

“He is,” Oaklee said. “Good. Stubborn. Loud in all the right ways.” She glanced sideways at Javi then, catching the concern before it could hide. “And yeah. I am too. Or… I’m getting there.”

She shifted closer to the wall beside him, mirroring his stance without thinking too hard about it. Comfortable. Grounded.

“Some nights it feels solid,” she continued. “Other nights it’s like I can hear the cracks before I see them.” Her wolf stirred once, then settled again. “Tonight’s somewhere in between.”

His reassurance landed deeper than she let show at first. Oaklee tipped her head, meeting his eyes again — steady, grateful.

“Thanks for the check-in,” she said quietly. “I mean that. I’ve had enough people ‘check up’ just to see if I’m failing.”

A beat. Then, softer, more personal:

“And if the ground does give way?” Oaklee shrugged lightly, but her gaze stayed firm. “I’ll say something. I’m trying this new thing where I don’t pretend I can carry everything alone.”

She bumped her shoulder gently against his — an unspoken acknowledgment.

“So don’t worry,” she added, a faint smile returning. “I’m balancing. And if I slip…” Her eyes flicked back to the city, then to him. “I know who’s got my back.”

[javimondragon]

Javi let her words settle, the way you do when someone trusts you with the truth instead of a performance. He nudged his shoulder back against hers, a quiet acknowledgment rather than reassurance. “That’s good,” he said softly. “Not the cracks part. The saying something part.” A faint curl of smoke slipped free on his exhale, more instinct than heat. “Difficulty teach us to brace. People teach us when it’s safe to unlearn that.”

He tipped his head, gaze following the sprawl below before returning to her. “Between is allowed,” he added. “It’s honest, at least. Nights don’t have to be solid to be survivable.” His mouth twitched, half-smile, half-grin. “And Sebastián being loud in the right ways helps. Noise that reminds you you’re not alone is different from the kind that wears you down.” The dragon smirked now. “Pero, mi hermanito, has a tendency to be too loud sometimes.”

When she thanked him, he shook his head once, gentle. “Of course,” he said. “Checking in isn’t the same as waiting for someone to fail. It’s just… making sure the ground’s still there in case they do.” He rested more of his weight into the wall, relaxed now. “And if you slip, the family has got you.”

[traegics]

Thorval’s breath eased out slow through his nose, the sound deep and grounded, like thunder rolling far out to sea where it harmed no one. The grin earned him another of those almost-smiles — rare as clear skies over a Stormscale peak.

“Aye,” he said, conceding the point with a tilt of his head. “Summer sings whether asked or not. Always has. Always will.” His gaze lingered on the veil a moment longer this time, the gold reflecting faintly in his eyes. “Listening’s the harder craft.”

At the jab, his mouth curved a fraction more.

“I followed the winds because someone had to know where they cut,” Thorval replied, voice carrying that old, iron-worn humor. “And because younger fools — yourself included — were fond of pretending the edge wouldn’t bite.” A pause. “It always does.”

He stepped no closer, but the space between them felt… settled. Shared ground reclaimed.

“You chose well, then,” Thorval went on, nodding once. “There are nights when warmth is meant for whetting down the blade, not drawing it. Oaths and blood have their seasons. This needn’t be one.”

His eyes met Javi’s fully now, steady and unflinching, but softer than the reputation that clung to him.

“Holding the line is a habit,” he said. “One I’ve not yet found reason to break.” A beat. “Nor desire.”

When Javi spoke of remembering, Thorval’s gaze lifted briefly to the breathing light, then returned, resolute.

“Let it remember restraint,” he rumbled. “Two old fires choosing not to burn the world just because we could.”

He inclined his head in a gesture older than courts or accords.

“Todavía,” Thorval echoed quietly.

[javimondragon]

Javi breathed out a low laugh at that, the sound carrying more relief than humor. “You always did have a talent for making survival sound like a craft,” he said, eyes following Thorval’s to the veil before settling back. “Listening - well, that lesson is still trying to sink into this thick skull of mine, ya?” He shook his head slowly and offered a wry smile. “Being born of black and red makes some lessons incredibly difficult to master, after all.”

He shifted his weight, stance easy. The heat in his gut remained banked low and disciplined in the way only long habit could teach. “Tonight’s not for oaths,” he agreed. “Or blood. It’s for letting the blade cool so it doesn’t crack the next time it’s drawn.” His gaze met Thorval’s, steady and grateful. “I came to Summer as a distraction, mi amigo.”

At the line about habit, Javi nodded once, slow. “Holding the line’s easier when you’re not the only one standing on it,” he said. “At least you're still around. Makes it easier when I have someone else to pin any reckless impulses and behavior on. You always were a bad influence, after all.” He grinned teasingly and tipped his head back briefly toward the breathing light. Sighing softly, he returned his attention to his friend. “Two old fires choosing not to burn the world, aye. That’s a choice worth keeping.”

He inclined his head in return, equal and unforced. “Why are you here, though?” Javi question softly.

[traegics]

Kaidan let the words settle without rushing to fill the space. He kept his pace matched to Javi’s, shoulder to shoulder, the bond steady between them—no pull, no pressure. Just presence.

“That’s enough,” he said quietly when Javi finished. Not dismissal. Permission.

He inclined his head a fraction, acknowledging the truth Javi had named—the line between refuge and escape, the choice to stand where it hurts without shattering.

“You’re right,” Kaidan continued. “Night doesn’t stop remembering. It never will. And it shouldn’t.” A beat. “Memory is the price of loving something worth keeping.”

His gaze stayed forward, watching the gold-lit path unfold. “Bargaining with ghosts is human,” he added. “Arguing with silence, too. But don’t let the cold convince you that pain equals failure. Pain means the bond mattered.”

Another step. The lanterns hummed, attentive.

“When you go back,” Kaidan said, voice steady and sure, “go back on your terms. Not because the stars softened. Because you did.” He glanced sideways then, brief and intent. “And if they cut, you bleed—fine. But you won’t bleed alone.”

He nodded once at the promise Javi gave, the simple soon and the vow to fly if Night called.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Kaidan said, faint smirk returning. “Not as an order. As a fact.”

The bond settled, warm and anchored.

“Stand under Summer as long as you need,” he finished. “Borrow the light. Take the noise.” A softer edge entered his voice. “Night will keep your place. I will.”

They walked on together, the path bright ahead—no rush, no reckoning yet. Just time, given clean.

[javimondragon]

Javi didn’t answer right away. He let Kaidan’s words settle into the bond the way heat sinks into stone - slow, inevitable, and grounding. When he did speak, his voice was low, steady; not sharp with fire, not dulled by grief. “That’s why I trust you,” he said quietly. “You don’t try to spare me the memory. You just… remind me it’s allowed to hurt.” He gave the High Lord a warm and fond smile. “Night remembers. But she also raised us strong enough to survive remembering her. Someday.”

A breath slipped free, warmer now, the smoke barely there. “I won’t confuse pain for penance,” Javi went on, tone firm with a truth he was choosing rather than discovering. “And I won’t mistake rest for running. I just... need to hide away from the stars and Night's honesty for a bit.” A faint smile tugged at his mouth once more, not humor so much as resolve. “When I return, it’ll be with my spine straighter and my wings steadier.”

He dipped his head once, respectful, familial, bound deeper than titles. “Gracias, hermano,” Javi said softly, the word carrying centuries of shared skies and scars. “For keeping my place. For keeping me.” The bond answered warm and sure, dragon and rider aligned as they kept walking beneath borrowed light.

[traegics]

Maveric let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, shoulders finally easing as Javi angled away from the glow. The heat receded another notch, and with it, the sharp edge of this could go sideways fast that lived permanently in his chest these days.

“Good,” he said quietly. Not relief exactly — satisfaction. The kind you got when a patient chose not to make your night worse.

He tipped his head back slightly, staring up at the fractured sky for a second before glancing sideways at Javi again.

“Dragon, uninsured,” he repeated, mouth twitching. “Yeah, that tracks. Figures the one guy breathing fire on a city street is the one I can’t file paperwork on.”

He leaned his forearms against the low barrier beside them, stance open now, not guarding the veil anymore — just standing with another exhausted man at the edge of something too big.

“I like your weather analogy,” he said after a beat. “Power with opinions. Explains a lot about this city lately.” A pause. “And for what it’s worth? ‘Contained and supervised’ already puts it ahead of half the things I saw in trauma tonight.”

His gaze sharpened briefly at the word grief, but he didn’t push. He knew better. You didn’t rush someone out of that headspace; you just made sure they didn’t drown in it.

“Standing and breathing sounds perfect,” Maveric agreed. “I’ve been sprinting toward emergencies for twelve hours. I can spare a minute to run away from one.”

He offered his hand, casual, steady — not urgent, not formal. Just human.

“Maveric,” he said again, like it mattered. “And if you change your mind and decide to walk into glowing portals on a bad night? Do me a favor and find me first. I like my dragons alive and ambulatory.”

A beat, then a dry addendum:

“And if you do end up in my ER someday, uninsured or not, I promise not to charge extra for the smoke. Probably.”

[javimondragon]

Javi eyed the offered hand for half a second before taking it, grip warm and careful. “Alive and ambulatory,” he echoed, lips curling. “You say that like you’ve got a statistically meaningful sample size.” The grin sharpened. “How many dragons do you know, Médico, that you’ve developed preferences on how we arrive? Because I feel like I should be offended - or at least impressed.” He teased softly.

He leaned his hip against a lampost nearby, posture easy now, fire fully leashed. “Relax,” Javi went on, tone light and unguarded. “So long as you stick to the main roads leading out of this broken city, the Veil is nothing to be worried about - it will deliver you into the safety of the Courts' capitals. It is wandering aimlessly off the beaten path and crossing through that becomes... unpredictable.” The dragon explained. “Tonight, however, this denizen of Night was only debating hiding beneath Summer's rays.”

Javi squeezed Maveric’s hand once before letting go, a quiet acknowledgment between two men who’d seen too many edges. “Deal,” he said simply. “You may come to regret that offer, however. I can sometimes be... reckless and hotheaded.” His smile turned wry. “If I wake up in your ER someday, uninsured and smelling like a campfire - gracias for the friends-and-family smoke discount. I’ll try to keep the scorch marks tasteful.”