Travis Kinley

Human | Firefighter/Paramedic | 35 Years | Closed Blog for Dark Skies RP

[traegics]

Ares laughed outright at that, the sound warm and genuine as he shook his head. “Yeah, well, that's what happens when you've spent half your life hauling filing cabinets, rescue equipment, and whatever piece of the city decided to fall apart that week,” he replied. “I hate to ruin the mystery, but there's no supernatural secret. Just bad knees waiting for their moment to betray me.” His eyes narrowed slightly with amusement. “And for the record, if you're jealous of my ability to throw debris around, I should be jealous of the guy who willingly runs into collapsing buildings and somehow still has enough energy left afterward to complain about being benched.”

The teasing faded naturally as Travis continued, and Ares found himself nodding before the other man had even finished. He understood it. Maybe more than he wanted to. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly. “I get it.” His thumb traced absently along the side of his coffee cup. “It's like your brain knows it's a bad idea, but something else gets there first. Somebody needs help and suddenly every self-preservation instinct you were born with packs up and leaves town.” A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Then afterward everybody looks at you like you're crazy and you're sitting there wondering why they didn't see the same thing you did.”

His gaze lingered on Travis for a moment. “Leaving somebody behind was never really an option.” The words came simply. No dramatics. Just truth. When Travis finally conceded that he'd run himself ragged, Ares didn't celebrate the victory. He just nodded once, like he appreciated the honesty. The warmth creeping into Travis's cheeks didn't escape him either, though he was polite enough not to call attention to it. Mostly. Then the basket of fries got spun toward him. Ares blinked. Looked at the basket. Looked at Travis. Then back at the basket. “Well now I'm suspicious,” he said immediately. “You give up the fries this easily and suddenly I'm wondering what the catch is.” Still, he dutifully reached over and dipped one into the ketchup-and-mayo mixture. He took a bite, chewed thoughtfully for a second, then pointed the fry at Travis. “Okay, that's annoyingly good.” His expression suggested he hated admitting that. “Which means you've either discovered a culinary masterpiece or you've Stockholm-syndromed yourself into believing this combination works.”

Ares stole another fry before Travis could change his mind, dipping it with considerably more confidence this time. The quiet thank you caught him off guard. Not because Travis said it. Because he meant it. For a second, the humor softened around the edges. “You don't gotta thank me,” Ares said, voice quieter now. “That's what friends do.” Then, because apparently neither of them was capable of letting sincerity survive for too long, he immediately pointed another fry at him. “Besides, if we're keeping score, I'm pretty sure listening to you complain for an hour only covered the first handful of fries. You're still in debt.” The grin that followed was easy and warm. “And lucky for you, I accept payment plans.”

[traviskinley]

Travis watched with no small bit of amused triumph as Ares accepted his culinary discovery. "Don't mock the genius of a hungry man." He retorted and laughed. He watched a few moments longer before stealing a couple fries himself and some of the dipping concoction.

The modest dismissal of his gratitude made him shake his head some. "I know, man. It's just.. you know, nice to have someone else that just gets it." He offered. The remark about still owing the male earned, at first, a gasp of disbelief. Finally, however, Travis nodded a few times. "Okay. Don't let it be said that I can't keep my debts." He boasted before chuckling softly.

"You want another boat?" He gestured at the now-empty basket between them. "Or, we can hit up someplace else? I'm restless anyway - need to find somethin' to do." He commented lightly. And, if he was being honest, he wasn't quite content enough to let the male leave just yet. His company was... easy to be in.

[traegics]

Saint caught the second fry chunk, looked at it, then looked at Travis with an expression that suggested this was becoming a concerning pattern. “See? Repeat offender,” he informed him. “The jury's gonna have a field day.” He popped the fry into his mouth anyway.

The second Travis realized Saint wasn't joking about the magical duel, the hybrid had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing outright. The look on Travis's face was worth every second of this conversation. “Oh, for real.” Saint nodded solemnly. “Two grown adults. One parking spot. Somewhere in the middle of the argument, one of them decided the logical next step was magic.” He spread his hands. “I don't know what to tell you, man. The city keeps finding new and exciting ways to disappoint me.” The groan that followed only made him grin wider. “Always a cat,” he repeated. “I don't make the rules.”

Then Travis launched into exactly what Saint knew he would launch into. The second the kid got mentioned, the paramedic brain kicked in and suddenly they weren't talking about fire elementals anymore—they were talking about welfare checks, family support systems, and follow-up care. Saint pointed a fry at him. “There he is.” His grin softened into something fond. “The guy who claims he would've taken it easy.” A laugh escaped him as he shook his head.

“Travis, hermano, you would've been halfway through a community outreach program before lunch.” He took a sip of his drink before relenting. “But yeah. Kid was okay. Scared out of his mind, but okay. Had family there. Somebody from one of the local covens got involved before we even packed up the trucks. Whole support system showed up like they'd been waiting around the corner.” That seemed to ease something in him too, if only slightly.

“Honestly, I think the lecture from his grandmother was scarier than the elemental.” Saint leaned back in his chair and watched Travis take the obedient bite of sandwich he'd been ordered to take. The pout made it worse. “Look at you,” he said. “Arguing with me while actively following instructions. That's growth.” He pointed toward the sandwich.

“Keep that up and they'll let you out unsupervised.” The threat that the argument wasn't over earned a bark of laughter. “Oh, no. This argument's never ending. Twenty years from now you're gonna bring this up during a retirement party and tell everyone about the time Saint cruelly forced you to eat lunch.” His grin widened. “And the worst part? You're gonna survive it.”

[traviskinley]

Despite being called out for it, Travis continued eating his sandwich in small bites as Saint teased him. "Twenty years? You think I'm going to last that long? Being friends with you - give myself a good three more years or so before you've convinced me I can run and do something completely stupid and walk away from it." Travis remarked as he finished the last bite of sandwich and moved on to his fries. "Probably to try and save your dumb ass without remembering what you are, let's be real."

"So, what, this was just some secret supervision mission? And here I thought you cared enough about me to just check in on your close buddy." Travis feigned being upset and laughed it off. He was quiet a few more moments before visibly fidgeting and leaning forward again. "Alright, so the magic fight - what happened there? We talking small spells or did we go full Harry Potter?"

[vilisisms]

tonia gave him a look over the top of her sandwich—the kind that said she'd worked enough shifts with him to know exactly when he was full of it. “mm.” she chewed, swallowed, then pointed her own fry back at him. “see, i almost believed you right up until the part where you claimed you'd know when to stop.” her eyebrows lifted. “travis, i've watched you finish a twelve-hour shift, say 'i'm fine,' and then immediately volunteer for another call because somebody looked mildly overwhelmed.” she snorted. “your self-preservation instincts are held together with duct tape and caffeine.”

she leaned back in her chair, the teasing never quite hiding the sincerity underneath. “and don't get me wrong—that's part of why you're good at this job. you care. you show up.” her head tilted slightly. “but the people who care the most are usually the worst at realizing when they're the ones who need help.” another bite of her sandwich disappeared before she continued. “as for saint…” she waved a hand dismissively. “saint's basically a walking building code violation. you don't get to compare yourself to him.” the corner of her mouth twitched.

“and i have absolutely seen a country boy go stir crazy.” her eyes narrowed with exaggerated suspicion. “pretty sure i'm looking at one.” she pointed at his sandwich. “eat. recover. annoy the station group chat if you're desperate for entertainment. but if i catch you sneaking back onto a truck before you're cleared, i'm telling the chief you tried to lift something heavier than your own ego.” a small grin spread across her face. “and between us?” she added. “i'd rather spend one afternoon listening to you complain than spend the next shift scraping you off the pavement because you couldn't sit still.”

[traviskinley]

Travis muttered something along the lines of 'nuh-uh' or 'I totally could make myself stop', but fidgeted in the same manner that a child does when they're embarrassed about being caught doing something. "I mean... anyone would do that though. That's nothin'." He finally tried to argue, but the felt the words fall short even as he spoke them.

"He really is. You know, it's kind of not fair to us fragile humans. What do ya think? I could get a vampire to bite me or something. I don't know how that stuff works, exactly." He had never really asked Saint the how to becoming a vampire. Other than the pretty obvious 'you die' parts, he really didn't have a desire to know and certainly no actual plans to ever become anything but purebred human. Reckless as he could be.

Travis let out an exasperated sigh and shoved sandwich into his mouth before he could go off on a southern ranting. His eyes spoke volumes though as he narrowed them back at her in response to her own. They softened at her final words, however. "I appreciate it." He admitted after finally swallowing his food. After a few moments and a couple of fries, he spoke once more. "So how did you end up mixed up with all of this anyway?" He gestured vaguely around them.

[traegics]

Ares barked out a laugh at that, shaking his head as he settled back in his chair. “That is an incredibly convenient interpretation of the law, and I suspect you change the rules whenever it benefits you,” he informed Travis, though there wasn't an ounce of real accusation behind it. The grin lingering at the corner of his mouth made that clear enough. “Besides, if we're being honest, you've committed far worse offenses against yourself than I've committed against your lunch.”

The amusement stayed with him for a moment before Travis turned the conversation around. It always caught Ares slightly off guard when people did that. Most people were happy enough to let him sit on the sidelines and listen. Travis, unfortunately, had a habit of paying attention.

At the mention of supernatural juice, Ares rolled his eyes immediately and pointed his coffee cup at him. “Oh, absolutely. That's my secret. Not years of bad coping mechanisms and an unhealthy relationship with caffeine. Definitely magic.” He snorted softly before taking a sip. “We're both human, Travis. Which honestly makes our inability to quit while we're ahead a lot less impressive and a lot more concerning.”

His smile softened after that. The sounds of the market drifted around them—people talking, dishes clattering somewhere nearby, life carrying on despite everything—but for a moment Ares's attention remained fixed across the table.

“The truth?” he said quietly. “I don't know how to do it either.”

The admission came without much hesitation.

“I don't know how to put myself first. I know we're supposed to. I know every speech about burnout by heart. I know exactly what I'd tell somebody else sitting where you're sitting right now.” His gaze dropped briefly to the coffee in his hands before lifting again. “But every time I think about slowing down, somebody needs something. Somebody's missing. Somebody's scared. Somebody's hurting. And every time I tell myself I'll rest after the next thing.”

His mouth curved into a small, self-aware smile.

“Problem is, there's always a next thing.”

For a second he just watched Travis. The concern. The restlessness. The way he seemed fundamentally incapable of walking away from somebody who needed help. There was something frustratingly admirable about it.

“You care because it's who you are,” Ares said finally. “Not because it's your job. Not because somebody expects it from you. You just do.” His eyes held Travis's for a moment. “You see somebody hurting and you move. Most people stop and think first. You don't.”

There wasn't any criticism in the words. If anything, there was something dangerously close to admiration.

“Which is exactly why they're forcing you to sit down for a day,” he continued, the warmth in his voice impossible to miss. “Because everybody else can see you're running on fumes except you.”

A crooked smile broke through the seriousness then.

“And before you get any ideas, no, this isn't me pretending I'm any better at taking my own advice. Honestly, if we're being fair, we're probably having the exact same argument from opposite sides of the table.”

The sincerity lasted approximately three seconds before Ares reached across the table and stole another fry. A good one this time. He popped it into his mouth with absolutely no shame whatsoever and leaned back again, looking far too satisfied with himself.

“Compensation,” he declared immediately when Travis caught him. “You made me have feelings. That's at least two fries worth of emotional labor.”

His eyes danced with quiet amusement as he gestured vaguely with the stolen fry.

“And before you start arguing, remember that you're currently under strict medical orders to relax. I assume that includes surrendering portions of your lunch to your friends.”

The look he gave him afterward was entirely too smug for a man actively committing repeat offenses against a basket of fries. Worse, he looked completely unapologetic about it. The fact that Travis was laughing only seemed to encourage him.

[traviskinley]

"You sure? Just human? I don't know, Donovan, I've seen the way you lift debris and toss it aside sometimes like it's nothing. Totally ain't jealous or anythin' or wonderin' why I waste weekend nights at the gym sometimes." Travis remarked and let the words hang there for a few seconds before his lips curled and gave away his teasing. It took several moments for that smile to settle back into a neutral expression.

"So you get it." Travis acknowledged. "I don't know. It's like every part of me that should be tellin' me to think rationally or get out of dangerous situations, tells me to go runnin' headfirst into them so no one else has to. And leavin' someone in trouble? That's just not gonna happen." The medic explained as he bit another chunk off his sandwich to chew on as Ares continued speaking.

The warmth in the man's tone as he justified the reasoning for his orders to take it easy brought a slightly warmth into Travis' cheeks that made him clear his throat for just a moment. "Alright." He conceded. "I get it - I ran myself ragged." He confessed. He eyed the stolen fries once more, but sighed and spun his fry basket around. "Here. If you're gonna swipe 'em, at least dip 'em in this. Old childhood trick of mine - some ketchup, some mayo, salt and pepper." He kissed his fingers like a chef revealing some intricate secret recipe, and leaned back in his seat watching the male. "Thanks." He finally offered. "For, you know, your hard work." He finished teasingly.

[vilisisms]

tonia snorted softly around a bite of her food, shaking her head before setting it down. “travis, buddy, the fact that you’re comparing yourself to saint and naveen is exactly why they told you to take the day off.” her tone was dry, but the grin tugging at the corner of her mouth took most of the sting out of it. she leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest.

“you got hurt. that’s the whole argument. doesn’t matter if osha packed up and left with the rest of civilization.” she pointed at him with a fry she'd stolen from her own tray. “the goal is generally to keep firefighters from becoming the emergency.” a small laugh escaped her as she shook her head. “and for the record? if saint got hurt, i guarantee somebody would be forcing him to sit down too. he’d just be ten times grumpier about it.”

tonia took another bite before continuing. “you know what your assignment is today?” she asked. “eat your sandwich. complain about being benched. maybe annoy a few coworkers. that's it.” her eyes narrowed playfully. “and if i catch you answering a call anyway, i will personally drag you back here and make you take another day off out of spite.” a beat. “so honestly? enjoy it. the city's probably only giving us one quiet afternoon before something catches on fire.” she paused, then added, “preferably not you.”

[traviskinley]

Travis gave the woman a harmless roll of his eyes and laughed once. "If anythin' actually manged to hurt Saint in any meaningful way, I think it'd be beyond reasonable that we all be concerned. Probably not the best call to use someone that's 'basically impervious and bulletproof' as any sort of standard of measurement." Travis mused.

"I wasn't going to become any emergency. I'm not just a firefighter, y'know? Paramedic too? I was perfectly aware of how far I was pushin' myself. I would've stopped and taken a break when I needed to." A lie and they both knew it.

Travis grumbled the entire time he picked up his sandwich and took an obedient bite of it. Once he had chewed and swallowed, he wiped his mouth with his napkin and pointed a fry back at her. "Don't even joke like that, Rivera. I cannot take another day off. I will literally go insane. You ever seen a country boy go stir crazy? Ain't pretty."

[traegics]

Ares caught the lie immediately. Not because he was particularly gifted at reading people, but because Travis Kinley was, quite possibly, the worst liar he'd ever met. The man could probably talk a frightened kid through a panic attack, stabilize someone with half a building on top of them, and navigate the Bayou in the middle of a supernatural storm. But apparently saying I'm tired was where his skill set ended.

“You weren't tired one bit,” Ares repeated dryly.

His gaze drifted pointedly to the dark circles under Travis's eyes, then to the coffee sitting in front of him, before returning to the man himself.

“Right.”

The stolen fry disappeared before the evidence could be reclaimed.

Ares was still chewing when the burnt fry came sailing across the table and bounced harmlessly off his shoulder. His eyebrows shot upward in immediate offense.

“Oh, that's how we're handling conflict resolution today?”

The grin he'd been trying—and failing—to suppress finally won out.

“I steal one fry and suddenly I'm public enemy number one. You know what? Fair.”

For a moment, his eyes lingered on Travis longer than they probably needed to. There was something infectious about him when he laughed. Something that made the constant weight sitting behind Ares's ribs loosen for a minute. Dangerous, really. The city was already full of hazards. It didn't need another one sitting across from him eating a sandwich and making him forget about his own problems.

“You know what's really unfair?” Ares continued, leaning forward slightly and pointing his coffee cup toward him. “The fact that you keep acting surprised every time somebody notices you're exhausted.”

His expression softened into something more knowing.

“You got benched because you've spent the last month operating entirely on caffeine, stubbornness, and what I'm increasingly convinced is divine intervention.”

Ares narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Seriously, when was the last time you got more than six hours of sleep?”

A beat passed.

“No, don't answer that. I can literally see you trying to calculate a version that doesn't sound terrible.”

The amusement remained, but it settled into something quieter after that.

“You care about people, Travis.”

The words came simply. Matter-of-fact. Like stating the weather.

“That's a good thing.”

His thumb traced absently along the rim of his coffee cup as he looked at him.

“But people who care about everybody else are usually the worst at remembering they're included in that group.”

The honesty slipped out before he could dress it up with a joke or bury it beneath sarcasm. For a second, he let it stay there between them.

Then, because apparently sincerity had a strict time limit, Ares immediately reached across the table and stole another fry.

A better one this time.

“Compensation,” he informed him without a shred of remorse, popping it into his mouth.

His eyes danced with quiet amusement.

“Emotional labor isn't free.”

And judging by the look on his face, he was absolutely daring Travis to throw another fry.

[traviskinley]

"Hey man, what can I say? Mess with a man's food and you become the enemy. I don't make the rules, I just enforce 'em." Travis rolled his shoulders at Ares' remark. That grin never left his lips, however. At least, not until Ares leaned forward and began casually 'lecturing-without-lecturing' him about his habits.

"Not everyone's got some supernatural juice pumpin' through them to keep going. Some of us poor mortals have to rely on coffee. What about you? Don't think I don't notice you're still out here trying to volunteer wherever they'll have you." Travis countered, words lacking any real edge. Of course he noticed. "How do you do it?" He questioned. "Because, yeah. I do care about people. I always have. And I don't know how to put myself first above other people in need."

The words hung in the air for longer than Travis expected them to when Ares snatched up another victim from his plate. "Compensation." Travis rolled his eyes and gave the man a soft laugh, shaking his head.

[traegics]

Saint caught the fry without even looking, plucking it neatly out of the air before it could hit his shirt. He held it up between two fingers like evidence being presented in court and arched a brow. “See? Violence. Completely unprovoked. Right in front of witnesses.” Then he promptly ate it, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

The grin lingered for a moment before softening when Travis admitted it. Not because Saint was surprised—he wasn’t. Anyone who spent more than ten minutes around Travis could figure out he was the kind of person who measured his worth by how useful he could be to everyone around him. Saint leaned back in his chair, balancing it briefly on two legs before letting it settle again.

“You know the funny thing?” he asked. “Nobody’s worried you can’t help. They’re worried you won’t stop helping.” He shrugged lightly. “There’s a difference.”

Without asking, he reached over and stole another fry from Travis’s basket because apparently all food became communal property once they sat at the same table. At the request for call updates, Saint immediately groaned and pointed at him.

“Absolutely not. That information is classified. Firefighter contraband while you're on medical leave.”

The refusal lasted all of three seconds.

“Okay, fine,” he relented with an exaggerated sigh, as though he were being forced to reveal national secrets. “We had a false alarm at an apartment building because somebody’s kid decided summoning a fire elemental indoors was a reasonable science experiment. Before you ask, yes—the kid survived. The fire elemental was significantly less pleased about the outcome.”

He held up another finger.

“Then there was a call about two grown men fighting over a parking spot who somehow escalated things into an actual magical duel. Which is still the dumbest sentence I’ve said this week, and that’s saying something.”

A third finger joined the others.

“And there was a cat.”

Saint paused, expression completely serious.

“There’s always a cat.”

He took a drink and let the silence sit for a beat before looking back at Travis.

“So no, you didn’t miss anything important.” His mouth twitched. “Except the fire elemental. And maybe the duel.”

A laugh escaped him as he pointed his cup toward Travis.

“But you would’ve absolutely gotten yourself put back on leave trying to investigate both, so I stand by my original position.”

He nudged the basket of fries back toward him.

“Eat the sandwich, Kinley. The city will find a brand-new way to make terrible decisions tomorrow.”

[traviskinley]

"You'll never take me alive." Travis stated and plucked another burnt fry chunk from his plate to send Saint's direction. "The witnesses will never talk." He added with a small chuckle. He almost immediately regretted Saint's agreement to spill the beans on what he had missed during this little 'staycation'.

Travis' eyes widened and the expression on his face was nothing short of 'Are you serious, man?'; and only intensified as he learned about a fire elemental and a literal magical standoff. "Come on, Saint - a magic duel? For real, not shittin' me? And a damn elemental-thing?" Travis asked and groaned in irritation.

"Always a cat." He parroted at the remark.

"I could have helped! I could have... I don't know, researched or talked to the kid that summoned the elemental. I could've been involved and taken it easy." Travis argued, although they both knew it was nothing but lie after lie. There wasn't anything on this planet Travis couldn't do less than 'take it easy'. "The kid. Did you - did you talk to him? Ask him if he knew what he was doing or - or find out if he had any relatives that could help him if he didn't?" He quickly jumped into assessment mode.

"This argument ain't over, Becerra." Travis stated with a pout, even as he slid his fries and sandwich baskets back in front of him and obediently took a large bite.

[traegics]

Ares had been doing a respectable job of pretending he was focused on his coffee.

Respectable until Travis started talking.

By the time the rant reached OSHA, emergency calls, and the apparent injustice of being forced to sit down for one afternoon, Ares was already fighting a smile behind the rim of his cup.

When Travis finally stopped long enough to apologize, Ares looked up and immediately lost the battle.

A laugh slipped out—warm, quiet, genuine.

"Absolutely not."

He leaned back in his chair, one arm draped over the backrest as he studied the other man over the crowded food stall tables.

"You've been medically ordered to rest for what—" he pointed vaguely with his cup, "—six hours? Maybe seven?"

His brow lifted.

"And somehow you've managed to make that sound like a human rights violation."

The amusement lingered in his eyes as he shook his head.

"Saint and Naveen aren't being told to take the day off because Saint would ignore the order and Naveen would somehow convince the person giving it that they needed a day off instead."

Ares took another sip of coffee before adding:

"You, unfortunately, made the mistake of being responsible enough that people know you'll actually listen."

The corner of his mouth twitched.

"Mostly."

His gaze dropped briefly to the sandwich and fries in front of Travis before returning to his face.

"Besides, you're terrible at doing nothing."

It wasn't an insult.

If anything, it sounded suspiciously fond.

Ares had noticed it weeks ago—that restless energy Travis carried around like a second heartbeat. The way he was always moving toward a problem before most people had even realized one existed. The way helping people seemed less like a choice and more like a reflex.

It was admirable.

Also incredibly annoying.

"Let me guess," Ares continued. "You've already checked your radio three times, considered sneaking back to work twice, and spent the last hour convincing yourself that lifting heavy things is technically different from lifting patients."

A beat.

Then, softer:

"You know they're not benching you because they think you can't do the job, right?"

The humor eased from his expression, leaving something steadier behind.

"They're doing it because everybody else can see you're running yourself into the ground."

His eyes held Travis's for a moment before the seriousness broke beneath another faint smile.

"Which means, for today, your heroic responsibility is to finish your sandwich, complain about it if necessary, and let somebody else save the world for a few hours."

Ares reached across the table and stole one of Travis's fries without asking.

A completely shameless act.

"There," he said, pointing the stolen fry at him. "Now you've got a real problem to focus on."

And judging by the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, he wasn't remotely sorry about it.

[traviskinley]

Travis fidgeted for a few moments and let Ares laugh at his predicament - a warm sound that made him feel a little bit more at ease with his 'orders'. Just a little. "For a lifetime, it feels like." Travis corrected with a raised finger. "Come on, you know how unpredictable this City can be even before the weird fog rolled in. The people are safer with more feet on the ground and I wasn't tired one bit." A lie. He had been needing a day of rest for at least a week now from the constant coming and goings from the mostly defunct paramedic's barn.

The male sighed and shifted his position in his seat to lean back as best as he could. "You know, I hate how right you are about Naveen and Saint." He rolled his eyes, but the gesture lacked any true dismissal. He nodded his head a few times as he listened to Ares speaking, though he found his mind wandering and listening more to the sound of the male's voice rather than the words themselves. The tone; the slight drawl to the words. It was the betrayal and kidnapping of his french fry that broke his dazed listening and had Travis sitting up in his seat in a start.

"Hey! Oh, you're askin' for it Donovan." He remarked and bit back the urge to laugh at the action. "Two injustices in one day..." He stated in awe before flicking a burnt fry he'd cast aside at the man.

[traegics]

Saint looked up from his fries somewhere around the middle of Travis’s rant, chewing slowly as he listened with the kind of patience that came from knowing the man well enough to recognize when he just needed to get it out of his system.

By the time Travis apologized, Saint was already shaking his head.

“First of all,” he said, pointing a fry at him like it was evidence in a court case, “you absolutely would bite somebody. Maybe not hard, but let’s not spread misinformation.”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“And second? They told you to take a day off because you’re the kind of idiot who’d show up to work with one arm hanging on by a thread and call it a minor inconvenience.”

He popped the fry into his mouth and sat back in his chair.

“Trust me, if Naveen got hurt, they’d bench him too. He’d just be more polite about complaining.” A beat. “And I’m pretty sure they’ve tried to send me home before. I’m just harder to kill and significantly worse at following instructions.”

Saint took a sip of his drink before fixing Travis with a pointed look.

“You know what your problem is?”

The question hung there for exactly half a second.

“You don’t know how to rest without feeling guilty about it.”

His tone wasn't judgmental. Just matter-of-fact.

“You got told to sit down, eat a sandwich, and let somebody else handle the emergencies for one afternoon, and you're acting like they sentenced you to exile.”

A laugh escaped him, low and warm.

“Which, for the record, is exactly why they made you take the day off.”

He nudged the basket of fries toward Travis.

“Eat your food, man. The city will still be broken tomorrow.” A pause.

“Probably more broken, honestly. Gives you something to look forward to.”

[traviskinley]

Travis narrowed his eyes slightly. "You have no proof. No one would believe you." He retorted at the remark about biting people. He opened his mouth to argue once more, but found himself lacking any viable counterargument. "Hey - I'm a paramedic. I know when I'm still good to work and when I need to go home." He finally settled on, but still found it lacking any real weight.

"Naveen really would though, wouldn't he?" He chuckled with amusement and popped some fries into his mouth to chew on as Saint continued to speak. "Stupid hybrid ass." He tossed a fry end at the man and shook his head. "You're basically cheating, so that's not a fair argument."

He groaned slightly and sat his fry basket down. "I am." He agreed with only a slight reluctance. "I've never been good at just sitting around. Especially when I'm fine and can help?" He sighed in defeat, but his shoulders relaxed. A sign that he was finished with his energetic outbursts for the time being. "Come on, at least tell me what calls have gone out today, man." He accepted his fry basket once more and bit off a small chunk of sandwich to accompany them.

[traegics]

The city was loud tonight in all the wrong ways.

Not the good kind of loud — not music drifting from open windows or people laughing too hard on Bourbon Street because they’d survived another week. This was the restless kind. The kind that crawled beneath your skin and sat there.

Nikki stood on the balcony of a half-lit building overlooking the Broken City square, one elbow propped against the iron railing as she watched the crowds move below like shifting constellations. Magic sparked somewhere in the distance. Someone shouted. Somewhere else, glass shattered followed immediately by a very tired, “Seriously?”

She snorted softly into the rim of her drink.

“See, this is why I don’t trust quiet days,” she muttered, mostly to herself. “The universe always starts compensating after sunset.”

A breeze tugged through her dark curls, carrying the scent of rain and smoke and something faintly metallic she couldn’t quite place. Nikki’s expression sharpened for half a second before she forced herself to relax again, lifting her gaze toward the skyline instead.

“You ever get the feeling the city’s holding its breath?” she asked after a moment, voice quieter now, directed toward the presence nearby whether she knew them or not. “Like everyone’s waiting for something to happen, but nobody wants to say it out loud because then it becomes real.”

She glanced sideways then, finally acknowledging them properly.

The tension eased instantly into a crooked smile.

“Anyway,” Nikki said lightly, raising her glass in lazy salute, “welcome to tonight’s existential crisis. Drinks are imaginary, the view’s decent, and if anything explodes nearby, I’m leaving first and acting shocked later.”

A beat.

Then, warmer:

“You can stay, though. I think I’m officially done pretending I wanted to be alone tonight.”

[traviskinley]

Travis wasn't exactly silent as he climbed took the stairs two at a time and shuffled out onto the small balcony the young woman was seated. From the quick rising and falling of his chest as he panted, he had been jogging for some time already - even before the sound of shattering glass carried out in the distance.

"Y'know, I'm startin' to feel that way the longer I live here." Travis rasped out and shook his head a few times to mask the gulps of air he took to settle himself. "Didn't mean to interrupt. I was cuttin' through this area anyway when that glass shattered. Feet carried me up here before I realized it - to see if I could see anything, I reckon." He explained lightly and offered a smile as she didn't shoo him away. "Thanks. Looks like it was a false alarm anyway. Don't hear any sounds of panickin'." He sighed with a small bit of relief.

[traviskinley]

"I just don't see what the big deal is," Travis was ranting to the person seated at the table with him as he enjoyed a sandwich and fries from one of the nearby food stalls. "It's not like we are exactly covered by OSHA or any other real rules these days. So, if I want to keep workin' and not take an entire day off doing absolutely nothing, why not?" He sighed with defeat. "But no. Here I am - eating a sandwich and forbidden from lifting a finger to answer any emergency calls this afternoon. It's not fair, really. I don't see Saint or Naveen being told to take a day off..." He grumbled and finally looked at his conversation partner.

"I'm sorry." He gave them a genuine smile and sheepish look. "I'm just talkin' and ramblin' your ear off. You can tell me to just 'shut up'. Promise, I won't bite ya for it." He held his hands up and chuckled.

( @darkskiesrpgstarters )

[traegics]

Indi had been posted up under the overhang by the vending machines, rain jacket half-zipped, coffee gone lukewarm in her hands because she’d forgotten it existed. She’d come in with a guy from the café who’d sliced his thumb open on a broken mug — nothing dramatic, but enough blood to make him pale and dramatic about it. While he got stitched, she drifted. Old habit. Hospitals made her hyper-aware in that quiet, humming way. Too many corners. Too many exits.

She watched Travis without meaning to.

The way he crouched to the kid’s level. The jokes — light enough to keep the kid from spiraling, steady enough to keep him still. The way his eyes kept flicking for the things people miss when they’re trying to look brave. It was competence without sharp edges. The kind that didn’t demand anything in return.

When the kid rolled off, Indi pushed off the pillar and wandered closer, boots scuffing wet concrete. She stopped a respectful few feet away, not crowding the space, eyes lifting to Travis.

“You make that look easy,” she said quietly. Not flirting. Not awe. Just an observation. “The not-freaking-people-out part. Most folks in uniforms go straight to authoritative voice.”

She tipped her cup slightly toward the rig, then the bay. “You do this a lot, or was that your ‘public service announcement of the day’?”

[traviskinley]

As Travis turned away from the kid's retreating figure, he gave a small grin to the young woman and shook his head. "Nah, ma'am. It's nothin', really. Just gotta reassure 'em and don't let 'em know that you're actually checking them for signs of concussion or worse injuries." Travis explained with an air of modesty and rolled his shoulders.

"Travis Kinley. Before the fog, I was a firefighter and paramedic. I'd only just moved to New Orleans before everything started getting... complicated." He smiled sheepishly. "Nowadays, it's kind of hard to keep being a firefighter without working trucks that can keep being serviced and filled. And without ambulances, my medical skills have been reduced to foot patrols and roadside injury assessment." He gestured after the kid and chuckled softly.

[traegics]

Easton had been leaning against the chain-link at the edge of the bay, hood up against the thick air, counting the rhythm of sirens the way some people counted breaths. He watched the whole thing play out—the way Travis moved in smooth, practiced lines; the way the kid’s shoulders dropped once someone competent took over; the way pain shrank when it was named and handled.

When the board rattled away and the space went quiet again, Easton pushed off the fence and crossed a few steps into the spill of fluorescent light. Close enough to be heard. Not close enough to crowd.

“You’re good with them,” he said, nodding toward the curb the kid had vacated. His gaze flicked to the rig, the gloves half-snapped at Travis’s wrists, then back to his face. “Most people make it worse just by talking.”

A beat. Thunder muttered again.

Easton rolled his shoulders once, like he was loosening a knot he’d been carrying too long. “You keep that up, you’re gonna convince half this city it’s safe to fall down.” His mouth twitched—almost a smile, almost not. “If you’ve got a minute… you got any tape left? My knuckles and concrete don’t get along.”

[traviskinley]

The young man's words earned a small smile of gratitude as Travis tucked away his supplies into the small hand bag he had at his side. Once he had finished, he approached and widened his smile just a little bit. "Thanks, man. It took me a while to get the hang of workin' with younger folk, but I learned the trick is to not jump onto that instinct to baby them about whatever injury they have. A little bit of respect and learning where you can lighten up goes a long ways." He explained with a warmth in his words.

"Hey, it's always acceptable to fall down." He stated at the man's words. "What's important is whether you get back up again after you're done. And if you can't? Well, that's what we're still here for." He tapped himself on the chest. "Travis Kinley. Lemme take a look." He gave a nod towards the male's hands. Travis gingerly reached out, careful to not grip the man's hand as he tilted it in analysis. "Bruised and a little swollen... but, they don't look like you broke anything." He hummed out and began fishing in his bag once more.

"What'd the concrete say to you to make you lash out at it?" He questioned with a joking mask.

[vilisisms]

evelynn had lingered just outside the bay doors, arms loosely folded against the damp air, watching the exchange with quiet attentiveness. she didn’t interrupt — didn’t need to. she just observed the way travis shifted his tone, the way the kid’s shoulders loosened by degrees under that steady cadence. when the skateboard wheels rattled off into the distance, she stepped closer, glancing down at the faint smear of diluted blood on the pavement before looking up at him. “‘aggressively rude levels of sting,’” she repeated lightly, one brow lifting. “that’s very clinical of you.” there was a softness behind the tease — not mocking, just warm. appreciative.

she leaned back against the side of the rig, gaze drifting briefly to the low, restless sky. “you’re good at that,” she added after a moment. “making it feel smaller than it is. not dismissing it. just… containing it.” her eyes returned to him, steady. “that kid’s going to remember that more than the fall.” thunder rolled again, closer now. evelynn tipped her chin toward the clouds. “storm’s deciding whether to commit,” she mused. “you planning to outrun it, or are we pretending we like dramatic weather today?” a faint smile curved at her mouth as she met his eyes. “also — for the record — if you ever ask me whether i’ve seen jesus, aliens, or my mother looking disappointed in me, i will absolutely lie.”

[traviskinley]

Travis laughed softly, his broad shoulders shaking with the motions. "Hey. Don't let anyone ever tell you that I'm any sort of expert at speakin'. I've never had a way with words even before the drawl steps in to have its fun with things." He chuckled quietly. "Thank you, though." He nodded once in gratitude and smiled warmly. "Name's Travis. I've been a firefighter and paramedic for most of my life. I was new to the area when this mess first started and now... guess I'm just stuck in the middle of things. Oh well. That's kinda where I do my best work." The man shrugged his shoulders.

His gaze followed the tilt of her chin and a small hum escaped him. "Eh, I think I can risk a few more minutes just in case there's any more accidents." He concluded and returned his gaze upon her. "Oh, is that so?" He laughed softly at her remarks. "Got it - ask you different questions." He joked back.

[vilisisms]

naveen had been leaning against the side of the rig, arms folded loosely, watching the whole exchange unfold with quiet approval. he stepped forward once the kid rolled off, gaze following him for a second longer to make sure he didn’t immediately eat pavement again. the thunder overhead made him glance at the sky, then back at travis with a faint, crooked smile.

“‘aggressively rude levels of sting,’ huh?” he said, nudging the jump bag lightly with his boot before reaching down to take it. “i’m stealing that. bedside manner’s strong today.” there was warmth in it—no edge, just the kind of easy ribbing that came from long shifts shared. he popped the rig’s side compartment open, tossing the used saline and wrappers into the bio bin with practiced precision.

his gaze drifted back toward urgent care, scanning automatically the way it always did. “you checked his pupils?” he asked, not doubting—just thorough. “last thing we need is him face-planting two blocks away because he didn’t realize he bounced his head.” a beat, softer, more amused. “though if he did see jesus, aliens, or his mom, i appreciate that you covered all major possibilities.” he clapped travis lightly on the shoulder before stepping up into the back of the ambulance. “storm’s coming. let’s restock before the universe decides to test us.”

[traviskinley]

"Hey, man. That's Kinley trademark secrets you're swiping there. Copyright pending a return to somewhere that actually has lawyers at some point." He cracked a smirk. "My bedside manner is always strong." He added confidently as he tucked away the supplies he'd gotten out to tend to the kid's fall.

"What? Yeah - with glances though. Pulling out the pen-light probably would have spooked the kid. There weren't any abnormalities I saw that needed worryin' over." Travis reassured and wandered towards the ambulance. Placing a hand upon the cold frame, he sighed. "Remember when these things actually had a purpose and weren't just some fancy filin' cabinet and tool box?" He questioned lightly. He shook his head and dropped his hand. "It's cool though. I've almost gotten used to the treks across this city. Good for my thighs." He grinned wide in Naveen's direction.

[traviskinley]

The ambulance bay carried that humid, rain-on-pavement smell, the sky hanging heavy like it couldn’t decide whether to storm or just threaten it. Travis leaned against the open rear doors of the rig, gloves half-snapped onto his wrists, watching the morning traffic of minor emergencies roll through urgent care. When he spotted a teenager on the curb clutching his hand to his chest beside a fallen skateboard, he pushed off the bumper and grabbed the small jump bag out of habit.

He crouched in front of the kid, posture easy and non-threatening. "Hey, man. You wanna show me the battle wound, or are we waiting for it to introduce itself?" After a second, the kid revealed a messy stretch of road rash across his palm. Travis gave a low whistle. "Good news? You still have all your parts. That’s my favorite starting point."

He worked efficiently but without rush - saline rinse, antiseptic, gauze - narrating in that calm, grounding cadence training had drilled into him. "This is gonna sting. Like, aggressively rude levels of sting. But infection is way less fun than this." He angled the kid’s wrist to keep runoff from dripping, eyes flicking automatically for swelling, deformity, anything that suggested more than surface damage.

Once the dressing was taped down, he leaned back slightly. "You dizzy? Hit your head? See Jesus, aliens, or your mom looking disappointed in you?" The kid snorted out a laugh and shook his head. "Perfect. Then you get the deluxe ‘you’re probably fine but don’t do that again’ package."

Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance as Travis nudged the abandoned skateboard lightly with his boot, attention settling right back on the kid. "Be careful, 'kay?" He smiled and rose fully once more as the kid rode off.

( @darkskiesrpgstarters )

[traegics]

Ares let out a slow breath through his nose, something easing in his shoulders when Travis said his name like that — familiar, grounded, not panicked. He glanced at the claw marks again, then back toward the dark water, cataloguing angles and exits the way muscle memory demanded.

“Yeah, well,” he said quietly, a hint of dry humor threading through it, “I appreciate the concern. For the record, if I ever do start bleeding out down here, I’m putting it in my report that you took too long.”

He crouched again, this time a little closer to the edge, lantern tilted so the light skimmed across the grooves. “Big and confident,” he echoed. “And recent. That’s the part I don’t love.” His jaw tightened, then relaxed. “Things that know they own the night don’t usually leave calling cards unless they want company.”

When Travis admitted he wasn’t with the shelter, Ares nodded — like he’d already known the answer. The Bayou had a way of pulling in the same kinds of people, over and over.

“Yeah,” Ares said. “That quiet? That’s not nature settling. That’s something making room for itself.”

He straightened, moving just enough to put himself half a step closer to Travis without making it obvious. Not shielding — just positioning. Shared ground.

“I’m doing a sweep for the Bureau,” he added. “Couple of folks didn’t make curfew near the marsh. Could be nothing. Could be this.” He tipped his head toward the tracks again. “Either way, I wasn’t planning on poking it alone.”

A faint, tired smile tugged at his mouth at Travis’s comment about stupid decisions. “Funny thing about people like us,” Ares said. “We keep calling it ‘checking things out’ like that makes it safer.”

The water rippled again, closer this time. Ares’s hand shifted instinctively, not to a weapon — to the radio clipped at his belt.

“Tell you what,” he said softly, eyes still on the waterline. “We don’t chase it. We don’t corner it. We watch, we listen, and we back out if it starts acting like it wants a second audience.”

He glanced sideways at Travis, meeting his eyes — not challenging, not commanding. Inviting.

“Sound fair?”

[traviskinley]

"That's cold and heartless." Travis remarked with a deadpanned expression as Ares threatened to mark it in any medical reports that he was too slow. The male looked around them and let the sound of the occasional cricket or other bayou resident drift through the stillness in the air. "I remember when my normal days were wading into burning buildings or patching up car crash vic's. Now look at me. At this place..." He shook his head slowly. "'Move and move on with your life' my Mama told me..." Travis scoffed once and chuckled.

There was a clear uneasiness that crossed Travis' expression when Ares informed him a number of individuals missed curfew check-in. "And this bayou is a complicated place as it is. They could've had an accident in the waters, or just wandered into town and lost track of time... but now we have to be considerin' whether they wandered through that there Veil or something came through to our side." Travis frowned.

His eyes returned to the waterline at Ares' proposal. "You know my instinct is tellin' me to dive into the water myself and find out." He remarked, but brought his gaze to the man. "I'm not that stupid. Right now. I say we leave it alone. Whatever it is... it can't be natural, right? And what are a bunch of guys like us gonna do against somethin' like that?"