. . . . . โฐโโโฎ a cherry-cola milkshake sweating in the summer heat, a cat curled up on a leather jacket, beer bottle caps sewn into a crossbody bag โ each one a souvenir from a place barely remembered.
in texas, ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ is known to most as ๐๐๐๐. he have been riding with the diablos for ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐. he is originally from ๐๐๐๐ and the ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ is known to be very ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ & ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ but the other club members will tell you he is ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ & ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐. as the years go by, he have gained a lot of respect in the club and around town. he is usually at ๐๐๐๐๐, working as a ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐. he rarely ever drive a car but when he do ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ by ๐๐๐๐๐๐ is usually heard blasting.
i. musings ii. edits iii. pinterest
basic infos.
โ nicknames โ to close people, he is still called jett, but others call him jeff when they can't pronounce his thai name right. the gang nicknamed him milk, a nod to the ever-present milkshake in his hand and the cat that follows him like a shadow.
โ age โ 29, born april 7.
โ ethnicity โ thai, southeast asian.
โ languages โ english, thai, chinese & italian.
โ sexuality โ homosexual (& bottom).
headcanons.
โ heโs got a reputation for being a big eater, always the first to dig in and the last to put his fork down. milkshakes are his true weakness of it all โ cherry-cola, vanilla, and passion fruit, to be exact. if you spot a few empty milkshake cups on the asphalt, chances are he passed through not long ago.
โ he has a black and white cat that he always carries in his bag when riding with the gang, which is why heโs always at the back โ the last one of the bike line or in the truck. though he never officially adopted the cat, it never stops following him. they say the cat was the one who adopted him. and no, the little one hasnสผt gotten a name yet.
โ the front of his bag is covered in soda and beer bottle caps, a small collection from his travels with the gang, each one a quiet souvenir of the places they've been. he tells people heโs collecting them for a reason, that one day, when he finds his sister again, heโll lay them out in front of her like a map of everywhere heโs been without her. every cap a story, every story a promise that he never forgot. a colorful, tainted map of the roads he could take again, this time with her.
background.
THE CITY OF THOSE LEFT BEHIND. reno was never meant to be a place to settle โ it was a city of passing faces, of gamblers chasing luck and immigrants searching for a foothold. for jett jirapat chakri, it was where his mother landed after leaving thailand, where she remarried a man who never wanted a stepson. his real father stayed behind, a distant memory blurred by time, and in his place came a man who looked at him like a mistake. jett was never enough, never strong enough, never disciplined enough, never his. mistakes were met with sharp words and sharper hands, and the house never felt like home โ just another battlefield he had to survive.
BROKEN HOME. his stepfather had expectations, dreams of a child who carried his blood, a son who could be everything jett wasnโt. so when his mother gave birth to a girl instead, the man walked away without a second thought, leaving behind a broken home and a woman who drowned herself in liquor to forget. his mother was never truly there, too lost in her own sorrow to care, so jett stepped up. he shielded his sister from the worst of it, held her close when the world felt too cruel. he told her stories about the life theyโd have far from reno. he swore that one day, itโd be them against the world. at least, thatโs what he believed.
THE SOUND OF THE WHEELS. but then the motorcycles came. they roared through the streets like they owned the world, untamed, fearless, free. they were everything he wasnโt allowed to be. the temptation was too strong to ignore. when the diablos gave him a chance, he took it, swearing heโd come back for her once he made something of himself. only, he never got the chance, until then.
HI, NONG. every year, he sent his sister letters, hoping to keep his promise, but they never reached her hands. his mother, bitter and empty, kept them hidden, swallowing his words before they could ever be read. jett thought she was ignoring him. mew thought he had abandoned her. one more cruel twist in a life already full of them.
HIS WORTH. proving himself to the diablos was another battle. he wasnโt the biggest, the loudest, or the strongest, but he was relentless. he threw himself into everything โ into fights, into rides, into reckless choices that should have killed him more times than he could count. he was always the first to help, to step up, to take the fall for someone else. loyalty ran deep in his bones, even when it should have been self-preservation. one day, it was going to cost him his life. maybe he knew that. maybe he didnโt care.
WAS I TOO LATE? when he finally came back, older, more sure of himself, ready to make things right โ his little sister was gone. he searched, but reno swallowed people whole, and she had learned how to disappear just like he had.
THE MILK. so he did what he had always done: he kept moving. newton became his world. the diablos became his family. at deseo, he worked the bar, a fixture of the clubโs nightlife, quick with a drink and quicker with a joke. he had a reputation โ foolish, charming, too trusting for his own good โ but respect wasnโt something he had to chase anymore. he wasnโt just a ghost trying to prove himself. he was here, he belonged, even if he still felt like he had to earn it every day.
kept connections.
โ mew wanphen โ sibling.
note: beyond these, iสผm open for anything else. we can combine the connections [ tumblr / discord ] or we can freely develop them on dash. honestly, up to you! you can assume the connections but they need to be in line with both characters.
ooc.
wen, brazilian, he/him.
english isnสผt my first language and this is my first foreign roleplaying, just letting it know in case the mistakes are inevitably noticeable so bear with me. also, donสผt ever feel the need to match the length of my writings, either way is appreciated by me! <3
discord โ wondy#2146 ( never feel intimidated to reach to me btw. iสผm just a silly player :p )
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STARTER: with @tempor4ry
WHERE AND WHEN: deseo, 4am or so. post brawl.
. . . . . โฐโโโฎ jett was wiping down the bar at deseo, the shift nearing its end near 5 a.m. the place still had some life โ the clients and other dancers moving around, nothing unusual. he was half on autopilot, dragging the rag across the counter, when he spotted kris heading his way โ an unexpected friendship heโd forged with someone from the rival gang long ago, still holding strong today. however, he wasnโt expecting them, not this late, and a grin broke across his face, bright and sudden.
โ โ kris! โ he said, voice lighting up with enthusiasm. โ โ what brings you out this late? you got a story to tell? โ jett let his eyes linger on them for a moment, head tilting slightly. the atmosphere had been off all midnight, something in the air just a little tense. maybe kris felt it too. either way, he didnโt mind the distraction.
STARTER: with @dcmnedbythelight
WHERE AND WHEN: outside the sheriffสผs office, later 5am
. . . . . โฐโโโฎ the night had bled into morning. the haze of the night still clung to the air. jett was down to the last of the cleanup, the place mostly quiet now โ just a few staff finishing up their closing routines, the occasional clink of glass breaking the stillness. he tossed a few more empty bottles into the bin, then stretched, rolling his shoulders back as he crouched to pick up a crumpled can from the floor. his knees ached when he straightened, a dull reminder of how long heโd been at it. thatโs when he checked his phone. the screen lit up with missed calls from an unknown number. brows furrowed, he tapped into his voicemail, pressing the device to his ear. then came the voice โ low, familiar, and vaguely irritated.
hey, sorry. iโm in holding. can you get me?
he sighed, rolling his shoulders back. of course he is. by now, this little game between them had become second nature. a messy, tangled fling that sparked before either of them knew they were on opposite sides of a war, but neither had the nerve to full walk away from, either.
jett peeled off the bartender gear, swapping it for a basic t shirt and jeans, tying his jacket around his waist. outside, he straddled his bike, the sunrise bleeding orange across his helmetโs visor. wind biting his knuckles. no rush โ dc wasnโt going anywhere โ but he got there soon enough, handled the paperwork, paid the damn bail, then waited out front โ helmet still on, head low to dodge any eyes that might clock him. dc finally shuffled out, and jettโs voice cut through the quiet, dry and edged.
โ โ your reaper friends left you hanging? โ the words came easily, laced with something between amusement and exasperation. he didnโt bother with pleasantries, just watched him approach before he pushed off the bike, one boot hitting the pavement with purpose. he asks, โ โ how do you plan on getting home? โ
she pauses what she was doing, looking at her phone and tuning out the people around her when the figure appeared on the corner of her eyes in front of her. she looks up, head tilting slightly as the options are listed and a small smirk tugs at her lips "have you ever known me to go with anything other than something strong? i thought you would have guessed by now." she shrugs.
. . . . . โฐโโโฎ there was a flicker of recognition, a shift in his expression โ something lighter, easier. good to see her here. even with the club packed, some faces stood out more than others. โ โ so many customers tonight. โ he exhaled, reaching for a bottle with the ease of someone who could do this in his sleep.
he moved without rush, mixing tequila with grapefruit and a sharp citrus bite, finishing it off with a red cocktail umbrella and a lime wedge perched on the rim. sliding the glass across the counter, his lips curled into an easy smirk. โ โ does that say something like someone who knows rose? โ playful, but the drink spoke for itself. he tapped a finger against the counter, head tilting slightly. โ โ are you waiting for someone? โ
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. . . . . โฐโโโฎ jett huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he reached for a clean glass, fingers idly tracing the rim.
โ โ only if you push it too far, โ his voice carried a hint of amusement, like heโd seen enough nights spiral out of control to know the difference. with a tilt of his head, he added: โ โ some drinks just make it guaranteed. โ
he gave the glass a light spin on the counter, waiting just a beat before looking back up. โ โ would you like something like that, sir? โ
there's a sly smile, brows raised, on her face when he asks her the question usually reserved for paying customers. it's probably her fault for sitting at the bar, pretending she's not actually on the clock, swinging her feet like she isn't due to be on the stage again in half an hour . . . but, sometimes she simply can't help herself from slacking off. it's like it's in her blood. her grin widens even further before she opens those lips to respond. "we're always feeling reckless, i fear." leaning forward she props her elbows on the bar, chin on balled fists. "but it's kind of mean to offer me a drink when we know i can't have one yet." out here at least.
. . . . . โฐโโโฎ jett let out a short chuckle, shaking his head as he quickly wiped down the counter. โ โ canสผt blame a guy for following protocol. โ knowing she was gonna dance soon, he reached into the fridge beneath the bar and pulled out an energy drink, setting the green can in front of her with a light thunk. โ โ maybe you could use something with a kick, then. a little warm-up before the real show. โ a slight tilt of his head toward the stage before sliding a bottle of water next to it. โ โ and this oneโs for after. canโt have you face-planting mid-spin. bad for business. โ
it had only been an hour since she arrived. her attention fell upon new faces and old, and selene fluttered about like the social butterfly she was. you could also call it manipulation, being able to say what she needed to say to get a foot in the door or gather information she needed even if it were scraps. she could work with a single sentence if she were a rag journalist. nope, she's chasing a bigger story.
taking a break, she approached the bar and took a seat. she smiled at the other, somewhat familiar as a slow patron making her face and presence more known with each appearance. โi think i'm feeling reckless tonight. what do you suggest?โ
. . . . . โฐโโโฎ jett recognized the answer for what it was โ a clear invitation to shake something up. reckless wasnโt just strong; it was the kind of drink that had you waking up with regrets or at least a few missing memories.
he reached for the bottles without hesitation, the pour smooth, practiced. vodka, rum, gin, tequila, triple sec โ a mix strong enough to make most people rethink their choices come morning. he topped it with a splash of cola and slid the glass her way with a flick of his wrist. โ โ long island iced tea. it wonโt kill you, but itโll definitely try. โ he nodded.
his gaze lingered for a second, curiosity flickering beneath the usual laid-back exterior. the customer had been around for a few weeks now โ long enough to not be a stranger, but not long enough for him to figure her out just yet. and jett had always been the type to wonder. โ โ tell me, what brings you here in stratford, miss? โ
" dealer's choice , darlin' . " texan accent drawled , heavy on the president's tongue whilst he perused the top shelf bottles . anything to take the edge off โธป nothing expensive , but god save the moron that tries to sell him anything dirt cheap . his kutte's insignia , his patches are worth nothing within the walls of deseo , not within no man's land , but he feels the sharp stares of the devils . the greedy will always bite more than they can chew . " something easy to swallow . "
. . . . . โฐโโโฎ jett clocked the reaper insignia before the guy even settled in. nothing out of the ordinary, deseo wasnโt diablos-only, but then he recognized the face. the president. well. shit.
he swallowed that knee-jerk tension, playing it cool. professional. still, the air felt heavier, like the whole place was watching. or maybe that was just in his head. whatever. he could handle it.
some lines werenโt meant to be crossed. but he wasnโt looking to cross anything โ just to keep his head attached to his body. so, really, when the president asked for something easy to swallow, the answer seemed obvious to him.
without much thought, he reached for the first thing that popped into his head. water. simple, safe, no way to screw that up. he grabbed a glass, filled it up, and slid it across the counter like it was the most natural choice in the world.
โ โ there you go. โ a beat. then, with a nod, โ โ on the house. โ that was safe bet, right? after all, the man did say it was dealerโs choice.
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. . . . . โฐโโโฎ jett was on his way to miss ginaโs, already half-lost in the thought of his usual vanilla milkshake, when the brunette stopped him. clipboard in hand, smile dripping sweet like honey left too long in the sun. โ โ nameโs jettโ โ he starts, then hesitates. almost corrects himself to milk, then second-guesses that too. his lips part like heโs about to say something else before he just nods, committing. โ โ yeah, jett. โ
she talked about the orphanage. about how a signature could make a difference. it couldโve been a trap, some well-placed sob story to bait suckers like him โ but doing it for the children alone convinced him. no way in hell heโd say no to that, considering your past.
jett takes the pen without a second thought, already scrawling out milk in his usual, slightly messy handwriting. itโs only after he hands the clipboard back that it hits him โ wait. would that even count? did they need, like, a real name for this?
his brows knit together for half a second before he just grins, leaning in slightly. โ โ hope they take road names, cause that oneโs mine. โ a small chuckle follows, a little sheepish, but not enough to take it back. the damage is done.
he couldโve asked to fix it, but was afraid to mess up again. instead, he just shifts his weight, hands tucking into his pockets, and nods towards the clipboard. โ โ real nice thing youโre doing. not a lot of people would bother. โ his grin is easy, genuine, because he means it. โ โ how many more you need? โ
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐: could be at the diablos party, down the block from the reapers, etc.
๐๐๐๐๐๐: open to anyone ( capped at 0/4 )
"Oh, C'mon. Who's gonna know? Nobody's gonna know." Pocketknife out, shoulders pressed tight to the bricks at her back, Sami flicked a glance north while she used the open blade to clean her nails. "It should be easy." DebatableโBut it should be fun.
Fuck, she needed fun.
She'd already done a round at Deseo's, already jumped in on a blunt. Already bloodied her knuckles and earned a split lip (that one was surprising, if not stupid on their part) when a patch bunny decided to get tough, thinking she was big shit just because she'd screwed her way through a few guys in the club.
Between the strippers, the quick smoke, and the savagery she should've been having the night of her life, and yet... Nothing. She was empty. Numb.
Sami had a feeling she knew why, too, but considering she couldn't do anything about that yet, she shoved off the wall instead, her ruined mouth carved with a vulpine smile. "Shit goes south, just blame it on me." Wouldn't be the first time she took the fall for something. At least this time the accusations would be honest.
. . . . . โฐโโโฎ jett should probably ask questions โ should probably think this through, but thinking was never his strong suit, and samiye knew that better than anyone.
he rocks back on his heels, gaze flicking to the truck, the slightly open gate, then back to her. the pocketknife, the split lip, the way she looks too at ease for someone about to do something reckless. yeah, this was trouble. but it was her trouble, which meant he was already in.
โ โ you say that like you werenโt planning on dragging me into it from the start. โ his grin is easy, wide, the kind that says fuck it, why not? before he even opens his mouth again. โ โ how many we talkinโ? โ he asks, already moving toward the truck like the fool he is.
STARTER: open โ capping at ( 06 / 06 )
WHERE AND WHEN: deseo, around 8pm or so.
. . . . . โฐโโโฎ the music is loud, the air thick with smoke and laughter, the kind of night that promises trouble before it even really begins. deseo is packed, the bar drowning in orders, and jett is in his element โ moving fast, pouring drinks, trading easy grins with familiar faces.
he leans against the counter, forearms resting on the polished wood, and looks at the person across from him. his smile is lazy, teasing, the kind that makes it seem like heโs got all the time in the world when, really, he doesnโt.
โ โ so, whatโs it gonna be tonight? โ he asks, tapping his fingers against the bar top. โ โ something strong? something smooth? or are we feeling reckless? โ
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