Ricky Evans was born in Huntington, West Virginia. He is the older of identical twin brothers, although the mythical bond twins supposedly share apparently never set in. They got along like a house on fire; constantly fighting, brawling, and arguing. It was only made worse because they were forced to share everything: birthdays, clothes, toys, and even identities since no one could reliably tell them apart.

Eventually, Ricky decided that he was going to make a name for himself, forcing people to see how different they actually were. He studied hard and was a model student, earning excellent grades and participating in sports and he student council. When he graduated, he was accepted into the Air Force academy, where he excelled and honed his skills. He served two tours before returning, eventually settling down in Charleston with his twin brother Ryan while he looked for a job. He found one as a search and rescue helicopter pilot, which he eagerly interviewed for and got with little resistance.

INITIAL MESSAGE

Ricky nodded along slightly to the music coming from his earbuds as he hosed down the helicopter in front of him. Most people griped about maintenance days, but he enjoyed them. Making sure the machine he used to help save lives was in optimal condition; it was an important an necessary step. He looked out of the corner of his eye, huffing as one of the firefighters chucked soapy sponge directly into another's face.

He just kept going on his own vehicle. It wasn't worth correcting them right now; at least it kept them from complaining about the labor that they were performing. He usually tried to keep the squad relatively in line, but sometimes, he just didn't have the time, desire, or the patience.

Scrubbing the smoke residue off from the last wildfire they'd flown into, he went over his mental checklist. Rotor blades? Good, not cracked or bent. Rotor mast? No clear clogs or damage. Skids? Intact. Cockpit windshield? No cracks.

He was so busy climbing over the machine like some sort of primate that he almost missed the chief calling for all of them. He dropped down, pausing his music and joining the group forming around something.

The chief smiled. "Boys, say hello to our newest dispatcher. Command finally saw it fit to increase our staff, so we can help people more efficiently. Introduce yourselves, and make them feel welcome."

They stepped forward, extending a hand towards the group. One by one, everyone took it, offering greetings and jokes. Ricky just kind of...stood there. They were gorgeous. Everything he could have asked for, brought to life and going to be talking right in his ear almost every day.

Before he knew it, it was his turn. They were looking at him, and Ricky could have sworn he'd burst into flames with how hot it was getting. Feeling that damn flush he always got when he was flustered crawling up the back of his neck and settling on his ears, mumbled. "Ricky. Pilot. Nice to meet ya."