Davion Travers

► basics;

Full Name:  Davion Jamal Travers  Age:  30 Birthday:   October 30, 1991  Sexual Orientation:  Pansexual  Relationship Status:  Single   Religion:  Don’t ask - he’ll get poetic  Occupation:  Director (stage)  Nationality:  American 

.

There was only cutting to the chase. In the past, Emerson had listened to so many spiels out of nothing but politeness, but now she had the luxury of informing people that her time was expensive. And it was, truly. Time was the one thing she could never get back. If her show was on a brief hiatus, she could only do quick projects. 

“Some would like the stability, though,” she pointed out. She braced her knuckles against her leg to pop them for a moment and rested her chin on her hand. “I’ve been fine. I’ve been working on a project, but I’m not supposed to talk about it until everything’s been said and done.” 

.

He sighed, his smile betraying him.  “I haven’t decided if I like it or I hate it,” he revealed, his eyes trained carefully on her the whole time.  Watching her had never been something he minded doing.  He found her utterly... compelling.  Even as she cracked her knuckles and resettled into her posture.  “Those NDAs never stand.”  It was a light argument, but it also didn’t contain a question.  He wasn’t going to push.  “When I can I expect to see it, though?” 

“I love being around people too, or at least if that is what you meant. Something about the energy and being able to observe sparks you with motivation.” Jackie said contently as she settled. Her eyebrows raising when he said stage design, immediately sitting up in her spot. It quickly brought her back to her days in theatres, remembering the days when she’d work with people just like him to figure out how the design would fit with chorography. “Well its crazy how many moving things go into a show.” She said softly, a small smile on her face. But one of her hands moved up quickly at what he said next, waving it slightly. “Oh no, no! I just use to perform and choreograph a lot of theatre shows. It just gave me a little flashback.” 

.

“It does,” Davion agreed.  “I think a lot of it here, too, is all the motion.  It’s not chaos, but nothing stays the same for long.  It’s fascinating.”  He watched her posture change and her face light, however gently.  It made him smile, too.  “Used to?” 

The sheer relief of having her sneaker back on normally. Never again was she going to power through it because it didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. “Yes, that was actual hell.” Her interest was piqued at the mention of a play. “Oh! That sounds fun! Or highly stressful. Is it a big secret or am I allowed to ask for details about said play?" 

.

“I’m glad you made it through,” he said, though he lacked his usual sarcastic lilt.  He was being completely serious, unsure how some people coped with things they wore.  Especially when the style items were behaving badly. “It’s not a big secret, but unless you’re a thorough theater nerd like I am, you may not have heard of it.  I’m reimagining Machinal, which was originally on Broadway nearly a hundred years ago.  It’s about a woman who kills her husband and doesn’t get away with it, essentially, but it’s so much more appealing than that makes it sound.” 

Cameron had no intention whatsoever to take over the coffee shop today with his work, but it had certainly happened in the past and could quite easily happen again one day in the future. When he got started sometimes he got a little carried away. “I guess that we will,” he responded with a slight chuckle, leaning down to pull a book from his bag.

When the notebook was moved in his direction, he leant forward to get a better looking, taking it all in for a moment. “If you’re the director it’s gotta be right.” He’d learnt that much from his days on a movie set over the last year or so and he had to admit, he nit-picked a lot himself seeing as he was the creator. “Writer. Editor. Depends on the day,” he answered, head tilting very slightly.

.

Davion nodded at the other man’s assessment.  “Exactly.  You understand.”  After a moment of listening, he realized they probably had even more in common than he’d thought, at least without having to dig too far for details. Creativity always overlapped more than it diverged, really.  The biggest wildcard was the medium, but the attributes of the individuals tended to have a lot in common. 

“I’m also writing, working on a play, but I’m afraid writer’s block has gotten me there.  That’s why I’m doing this instead today.  What kind of things do you write or edit as the case may be?” 

who: open | @seattlehqs-starters (5/5) ​ where: any coffee shop really  when: monday afternoon 

Another day, another coffee. Ingrid wondered if a part of her subconsciously just wanted to go through the whole menu: each different creamer, roast strength, sugars. It was either that or Ingrid just loved wasting money. 

Now, Ingrid was just expecting for the café to be just empty enough for her to find a quick spot to enjoy her overpriced beverage, however that wasn’t the case. Her fingers wrapped tightly around the paper cup as her eyes hunted for a place to sit. Thankfully, there seemed to be a fellow loner. Since Ingrid was in no way shy, she marched over to the table with her chin high. “Can I steal a corner that isn’t buried?” She asked, tone nonchalant. Thankfully, the man wasn’t stingy, which earned them a toothy smile. “Thanks, no apologies though, I think it’s totally normal to hog up a table.”

.

He continued smiling even as he squinted at her a little.  “You think?  I’ve just been waiting for someone to bust my balls over it.  In all truth, though, it wasn’t this crowded in here when I sat down.  At least half the appeal is I can’t spread out this way in my apartment.  I don’t have a desk of any kind yet.  I’m still unsure if I even want to get one.”  He nodded toward her coffee.  “Is whatever you’ve got there delicious?  My drink is black coffee and the little of it that’s left has seen better moments.  I may be due for a reorder.”

who: open | @seattlehqs-starters (4/5) ​ where: any coffee shop really  when: monday afternoon 

Whenever Jackie had to go to physical therapy she’d treat herself with some coffee and a pastry after. Although when she stepped into the coffee shop she didn’t expect it to be so busy.  She glanced around trying to find a spot, hoping that maybe after she ordered a spot would open up. Although when that time came there still wasn’t any luck. 

That is when she spotted a spot, although one person seemed quite occupied there. She took a few steps up there, “I am so sorry to interrupt you. I was just wondering if I could take a seat.” A relieved laugh escaped her at his words. “I mean it looks like you are working on something very important and coffee shops are one of the best places to do that. I don’t blame you.”

She took a seat and sat her mug and plate down, “May I ask what you’re working on?” 

.

Davion continued to shift, closing the book and the magazines he wasn’t using, and setting them aside as she spoke.  He glanced at her in between movements.  While he could be a little high strung, he didn’t want to be rude.  “Well, it’s important to me.  I don’t know about on a wider scale.  But this place isn’t as quiet as my apartment and I think my creativity feeds off the energy.”  he glanced to the things he had open as she asked.  “Stage design.  I have to be able to draw what I think it should look like, because God help me or anyone near me if I try to just describe it.  I’ve found this way much easier.”   He held up the rough sketch he had, only for a moment.   “Wait.  You’re not the competition, are you?” 

davionjtravers​:

who: open | @seattlehqs-starters (3/5) ​ where: any coffee shop really  when: monday afternoon 

Paige felt like she was intruding. He had gotten there first after all. His stuff was all over that table. “Sorry I’ll be quick I really just need to readjust my sneaker.” The inside had gotten jammed when she’d put the shoes on. She finally had a moment to fix it after her failed attempt in the car on the way here. She’d gotten a drink too of course as she borrowed the seat to fix the problem shoe. “Can I bug you about what you’re working on?" 

.

His eyes drifted over the woman as she apologized and then bent down to fix her shoe.  As far as she was concerned, she had nothing to apologize over.  He offered a chuckle when she had a followup question.  “You may.  Staging concepts and design for a new play.”  He stopped to reconsider his words.  “Well... the play isn’t new.  Just new to me.  Still.  Conceptualization.  Did you get your shoe all sorted?”

who: open | @seattlehqs-starters (2/5) ​ where: any coffee shop really  when: monday afternoon 

Cameron had been doing his best not to disturb, he knew how it was when you were engrossed in something, but after several sweeps of the coffee shop he’d come to the conclusion there really wasn’t anywhere else to sit and he needed to be getting on with some work himself. So he approached, offered a casual greeting, laughing a little when he received a response.

“I don’t know. You haven’t seen how much space I can take up when I get started,” he responded, still chuckling as he took a seat at one of the now vacant tables. “What you doing there?” He figured it wouldn’t hurt to continue the conversation for a moment or two. After a sip of a coffee, he took out his own pile of paperwork; a chunk of pages from the latest book he’d been editing.

.

Davion chuckled.  “You’ve seen the worst of me, so I guess we’ll just have to overlap if it comes to that.”  He still shifted things around around anyway, though it took him some time to do it without spilling his rapidly cooling tea.   “Stage design, of sorts,” he explained, tipping the notepad he’d been sketching on toward the other.  “I’m the director, but I’m trying to force a vision to come together and I’m only getting moderate results.  What about you, if you don’t mind my asking?”

davionjtravers​:

who: open | @seattlehqs-starters (1/5) ​ where: any coffee shop really  when: monday afternoon 

Charlie had been cramming working on her research project. She was always one who did her best work in the afternoons just right before. Packing her backpack up she went and found herself at a coffee shop. Ordering herself a coffee, and looking for an empty spot she sighed as she saw the man who was taking up four tables just for himself. 

She smiled softly and sighed, “I appreciate it. I only need the one if you need more then one.” She said softly with a smile. 

.

“I don’t know if I need more than one.  Obviously, I’ll take it if it’s there but take two and then you’re at less risk of spilling coffee on something important.”  He set a couple of lesser needed items on the bench beside him to open up the space.  “I get a little too into these projects sometimes anyway.” 

It took Davion a moment to come out of his self-imposed study.  He knew it was old fashioned of him to sketch out his ideas in notebooks, to read paper copies of books for inspiration, to look at old magazines.  He did not care and, not only that, he had no shame about the fact he was taking up an entire cluster of four tables in the corner of the coffee shop.  

He did have the decency to act at least a little ashamed when someone approached him because they needed somewhere to sit in the otherwise full room.  With a chuckle, he moved his stuff to at least one table, stacking things precariously.  “You mean it’s not normal to take up this much space for the whole afternoon?  Sorry about that, truly.  Please take the table with my best wishes.” 

Open Starter Pike Place Market @seattlehqs-starters​

Skye hummed to herself as she walked through the farmers market. The airpod in her ear playing something reminiscent of the backstreet boys. It wasn’t the most apt music to be picking out her bachelor viewing food, but it was making the shopping experience a little more entertaining. 

The blonde stopped at a bread stall, jaw a little eskew at all of the different types of loaves. If there was one thing Skye loved more than pizza and her job, it was bread. “Holy shit!” She preened, picking up a fresh loaf of sourdough and squeezing it. 

Despite the squished appearance, the action made her happy and she looked at the person beside her. “Okay, feel this bread. It’s fucking amazing.” 

.

At least once a week, he came to Pike Place and hoped it would start to feel like his vibe so he could maybe feel like he hadn’t made a mistake coming to Seattle.  Some places, like Purple Cafe and Wine Bar, made him feel as though that revelation would land soon.  Other places, like Pike Place, did not.   The people watching was fun, though, and he really always had an eye out for someone who looked talented or for something that could fit into a design aesthetic for a show.  So at least it wasn’t a complete waste of time. 

The woman admiring bread, for example, was worth stopping for.   “I think if you squish it, you might be required to buy it,” he said, hesitating slightly.  He didn’t actually eat bread all that often, so he was sure he didn’t want to buy it.  She seemed excited enough, though, maybe she would even if a stranger had manhandled it.  “But it is very... squishable.” 

closed starter for @davionjtravers​

Love was one of Alaina’s favorite things. The falling, the being, the making. She loved a lot and often. It wasn’t unusual for her to be seeing more than one person at a time. Presently, she was spending a lot of her time with a professional contact. She’d vowed once not to fuck the people she worked with after fallout with an old bandmate, but she’d been damned with Davion from the start. He was too hot for anyone’s own good, and as passionate about her passions as she was. 

“Sweeter than wine.. softer than the summer night.” There was music playing and people dancing. They’d been drinking, and Alaina felt the urge to move. She sang along with the song as she did, graceful but not practiced. While song had always been her talent the dance part was an afterthought. She’d had training during her theater years, but outside of the club she didn’t dance much. “This magic moment…” 

.

If Davion were honest, he didn’t mind attending a Valentines event.  He loved the spectacle of it all and somehow managed to reject the loneliness.  Then again, he generally wasn’t particularly lonely anyway.  He could find the company he wanted when he so chose to seek it out.  As it happened, this year his company was in the form of a colleague he shared a few things in common with.  It appeared she, too, was into the bold, the sparkling, the fun, the celebration.  He had no complaints as she lured him onto the dance floor, and every confidence in his own capabilities.  After a turn performing in a poorly adapted version of Strictly Ballroom for a high school elective, he had never been unsure of his dancing again. He was sure enough, between alcohol that exceeded his usual careful intake and ability, to dance close to her even as she sang.

.

Lunch meetings often ran a little longer than necessary, but Emerson had years’ worth of practice. They were often orchestrated by her team, but this was more of a favor to an old acquaintance than an official meeting.

She’d taken a break for her project for this, if necessary. It’d be a gigantic gamble, but she’d do it. 

“Alright, Davion, let’s see what you’ve got,” Emerson commented as she took a seat in her chair and scooted it in. “How are you?”

.

There was absolutely no small talk and he remembered instantly he had liked that about Emerson.  While she did ask after him, it was still straight-forward.  “I’m well, thank you.  I accepted an artistic director position here in Seattle, so it’s a little more tied down than I’ve grown used to, but it may have its benefits once I’m settled.  How are you, Emerson?  It’s been a long time.”