#rideintro.

[tempor4ry]

(    KATY    O'BRIAN.    THIRTY-TWO.    NONBINARY.    THEY/THEM.    )    in    texas,    KRISTIAN    BARTLETT    is    known    to    most    as    KRIS.    they    have    been    riding    with    the    reapers    for    TEN    YEARS.    they’re    originally    from    STRATFORD    and    the    ROAD    CAPTAIN    is    known    to    be    very    SCEPTICAL    &    STUBBORN    but    the    other    club    members    will    tell    you    they    are    LOYAL    &    RESOURCEFUL.    as    the    years    go    by,    they’ve    gained    a    lot    of    respect    in    the    club    and    around    town.    they’re    usually    at    THE    QUAD,    working    as    a    PERSONAL    TRAINER.    they    rarely    ever    drive    a    car    but    when    they    do    POINT    BLANK    by    BLACK    MATH    is    usually    heard    blasting.    (    black    sunglasses    resting    comfortably    on    the    bridge    of    the    nose.    satisfyingly    sore    muscles    after    an    extensive    workout.    selfless    helping    hand    with    infinite    love    to    give.    )

I.     BASICS.

FULL  NAME:  kristian  bartlett.  NICKNAMES:  kris.  AGE  &  DATE  OF  BIRTH:  thirty  -  two,  1993.  PLACE  OF  BIRTH:  stratford,  texas.  CURRENT  RESIDENCE:  straton,  texas.  OCCUPATION/STATUS:  personal  trainer  @  the  quad.  &  road  captain  for  the  reapers.  BIG  THREE:  capricorn  ☼  taurus  ☾  scorpio  ↑  GENDER:  nonbinary.  PRONOUNS:  they/them.  SEXUALITY:  queer.

II.     APPEARANCE.

FACECLAIM:  katy  o'brian.  EYE  COLOR:  hazel.  HAIR  COLOR:  black.  HEIGHT:  5'7  /  170  cm.  DISTINGUISHING  CHARACTERISTIC(S):  round  sunglasses.  leather  jacket.  air  of  fiercy  protectiveness.  grounded  nature  felt  through  deeds  done  for  close  ones. slicked  to  the  side  hair. wearing  silver  brass�� knuckles  (in  memory  of  their  father)  on  the  front  of  the  belt.

III.     RELATIONSHIPS.

PARENTS:  connor  bartlett  (father  -  deceased),  iris  bartlett  (mother  -  alive)  SIBLINGS:  n/a.  CURRENT  PARTNERS:  tba.  PAST  PARTNERS:  tba.  ENTANGLEMENTS:  tba.

IV.     PERSONALITY.

POSITIVE  TRAITS:  loyal,  resourceful,  selfless,  supportive,  protective.  NEGATIVE  TRAITS:  impulsive  (at  times),  stubborn,  repressed,  persistent,  sceptical.  LOVE  LANGUAGE:  physical  touch.  ALIGNMENT:  lawful  good.  MBTI:  ESFJ-A

V.     BACKSTORY.

TRIGGER WARNING FOR: PARENTAL DEATH.

although  you  are  an  only  child,  growing  up  rarely  did  you  feel  a  lack  of  love  from  your  parents.  your  father,  specifically.  thanks  to  him  your  childhood  was  a  bright  one,  at  least  the  first  ten  or  so  years.  connor  was  a  carpenter,  loved  and  adored  by  all  in  stratford.  a  kind  soul,  as  you  now  remember  him.  he  loved  working  with  his  hands,  always  building  something  new,  always  full  of  ideas.  during  the  last  seven  years  of  his  life,  however,  your  father  developed  a  fascination  with  bikes.  most  likely  it  was  just  the  influence  of  some  of  his  closest  friends  at  that  time.  they  joked  about  being  in  this  cool  secret  club  only  people  with  'special  bikes'  could  join.  that  served  as  enough  of  a  push  for  connor  to  consider  getting  his  own  bike. half  a  year  later,  connor  had  finally  bought  a  somewhat  cheap-ish  bike,  but  nonetheless  graceful.  he  decided  to  fix  the  bike  himself,  of  course  after  learning  how  to  actually  do  it  first.  you  got  to  witness  his  determination,  his  fascination  and  interest  bloosom  during  those  years.  it  touched  you  in  ways  you  still  struggle  to  put  in  words  today.  it  was  like  something  out  of  an  animated  movie.  ingiting  that  first  spark  that  would  later  turn  into  a  fierce  inferno.  this  first  introduction  to  a  hobby  that  was  later  supposed  to  develop  into  a  life-style  of  sorts  persuaded  you  to  always  follow  your  heart,  no  matter  where  it  led  you. the  two  of  you  spent  the  following  six  years  working  and  enjoying  riding  the  bike  together.  during  the  years,  it  has  turned  into  one  of  connor's  greatest  possessions,  even  if  your  mother  frowned  upon  the  time  that  'was  wasted'  in  that  garage  of  yours.  something  you  really  admired  your  father  for  was  the  fact  that,  although  his  friends  had  managed  to  'inspire'  him  to  buy  his  own  bike,  connor  did  not  rush  into  joining  this  'secret  club'  right  away.  instead,  he  had  taken  his  sweet  time  finding  and  building  his  connection  to  his  bike.  and,  he  made  sure  to  share  all  that  time  and  effort  with  you,  thus  including  you  in  his  hobby. you  will  never  forget  the  first  time  he  took  you  for  a  ride.  it  felt  magical.  freeing.  unfortunately  the  ride  was  short,  which  kept  you  wishing  you  could  experience  it  again  for  yourself.  the  rides  continued  from  time  to  time  throughout  the  following  year.  that  is  until  connor  finally  decided  to  try  and  join  the  mysterious  club,  which  later  turned  out  to  actually  possess  a  name.  the  reapers. connor  was  a  successful  prospect  for  the  reapers  for  the  most  part,  trying  to  prove  himself  to  the  club,  doing  its  dirty  work.  however,  some  limits  restricted  his  potential.  he  didn't  want  to  kill,  even  if  it  was  for  the  sake  of  the  club.  perhaps  that  was  his  downfall  in  the  end.  you  can't  really  tell  that  now  as  you  weren't  there  when  he  lost  his  life  that  fateful  night.  only  a  couple  of  months  were  left  before  a  treaty  would  be  enforced  between  two  rival  clubs,  but  connor  wasn't  there  to  witness  it.  you  were  told  by  your  mother  there  was  an  accident  involving  his  bike.  of  course  you  believed  it  being  barely  a  teen,  but  the  more  time  passed  the  more  suspicious  you  became.  something  in  your  heart  told  you  that  there  was  more  to  the  story  that  met  the  eye.

life  had  turned  quite  bleak  after  your  father's  passing.  his  bike,  now  damaged,  was  cast  aside  in  the  dark  corners  of  the  garage.  the  only  things  that  remained  with  you  were  the  precious  memories  of  your  time  together.  of  how  being  with  him  made  you  feel.  how  riding  a  bike  made  you  feel.  you've  seriously  considered  joining  the  club  once  you  turned  eighteen,  but  your  mother  was  too  relentless  and  stubborn  as  hell,  certain  that  if  you  joined  the  club,  you'd  follow  in  your  father's  footsteps.  though  a  small  part  of  you  wouldn't  have  minded  that.  he  was  supposed  to  still  be  there  for  you,  watching  you  grow  up  into  a  person  you  were  now  becoming  without  him. there  wasn't  much  consideration  involved  in  terms  of  your  career.  you  have  always  enjoyed  physical  education  classes,  so  after  graduating  high  school  you  got  yourself  a  personal  trainer  certification.  not  only  you  enjoyed  working  out,  but  it  was  quite  a  beneficial  tool  to  manage  your  frustration  and  anger,  which  often  you  ended  up  suppressing.  the  flexible  hours,  working  with  clients  and  helping  them  better  themselves  was  fullfiling  for  a  while,  but  there  was  something  else  that  gnawed  at  your  mind  every  other  moment.  there  was  an  undying  need  to  finish  what  has  been  started  by  connor.  and  spending  three  full  years  in  this  awful  place  of  uncertainty  only  pushed  you  towards  the  next  big  decision  in  your  life. now  that  you  had  your  own  place,  you  decided  to  take  and  fix  your  father's  bike  and  make  it  your  own.  thankfully  learning  the  ropes  wasn't  a  struggle  for  you  as  the  underlying  passion  and  determination  made  you  flow  right  through  the  process  smoothily.  days  later,  you  were  placed  exactly  in  the  same  position  your  father  once  was.  a  prospect  for  the  reapers.  thus  this  time,  you  were  deadset  on  seeing  it  through  it  to  the  very  end. safe  to  say,  your  story  was  a  more  successful  one.  the  club  seemed  to  be  impressed  by  your  willingness  to  be  a  part  of  such  community  and  and  selfless  acts  towards  other  club  members.  soon  enough  you  found  some  of  the  most  meaningful  people  in  your  life,  the  ones  you  couldn't  imagine  your  life  without  right  in  this  very  moment.  it  only  strengthened  your  beliefs  that  joining  the  club  was  the  right  decision  after  all.  if  not  the  best,  that  is. now,  a  road  captain  for  the  reapers,  you  eagerly  organize  the  runs  for  the  club,  taking  the  role  of  a  mentor  sometimes  among  other  things  as  you  can  easily  spot  new  potential  when  you  see  one.  always  true  to  your  word,  you're  more  than  willing  to  give  your  life  for  the  club,  but  most  importantly,  you're  ever  determined  to  push  on  and  excel  in  your  position,  hoping  to  make  your  father  proud  by  living  for  yourself  as  much  as  you  do  for  him.

VI.     WANTED  CONNECTIONS.

ESTRANGED  MOTHER  [  OPEN  ] … you  were  never  close  with  your  mother,  although  she  did  provide  for  you  and  kept  you  fed  and  safe.  on  paper,  she  was  a  great  mother,  but  there  was  little  to  no  love  that  you  felt  from  her.  maybe  she  didn't  know  how  to  show  it,  maybe  she  didn't  want  to  show  it  to  begin  with.  either  way,  with  each  year  that  passed,  she  had  grown  more  and  more  dismissive  of  your  father's  interests,  believing  it  to  be  a  ‘waste  of  time’  and  how  it  was  a  dangerous  hobby  to  pursue.  now  that  you  have  moved  out  and  have  a  place  of  your  own,  you  see  her  less  and  less.  a  part  of  you  feels  relieved.  the  other  feels  agitated  and  worried  for  her  wellbeing.  she  had  always  kept  her  feelings  under  the  wraps,  just  like  you  do  even  if  you  try  not  to.  perhaps…  reaching  out  to  her  one  more  time  wouldn't  hurt?

RIDE  OR  DIE  /  BEST  FRIEND  [  0/1  ] … the  two  of  you  met  at  the  club  soon  after  you  were  officially  welcomed  as  a  reaper.  you  clicked  naturaly  and  quite  fast,  too.  both  of  you  felt  this  special  connection  in  being  a  part  of  something  bigger  and  greater  than  yourselves.  but  most  of  all,  you  knew  you'd  give  your  life  for  them  in  a  heartbeat  should  they  need  it.  this  is  the  very  first  and  probably  only  person  who  has  seen  you  at  your  lowest,  rawest  self.  they've  seen  it  all  during  the  years  and  yet,  when  most  had  moved  away  from  your  orbit,  this  one  had  grown  even  closer.  and  it  never  ceased  to  amaze  you.

SLOW  BURN  [0/1] … you're  not  the  best  in  expressing  yourself  emotionally.  nor  are  you  a  relationship  guru,  even  if  you  try  and  do  help  your  closest  friends  by  giving  out  some  pieces  of  dating  advice.  things  are  always  easier  when  you're  looking  in  from  the  outside.  the  other  way  around?  not  so  much.  and  yet…  there  is  something  about  this  person  that  attracts  yous.  is  it  their  personality?  their  humor?  way  with  words?  you  cannot  say  as  of  right  now,  but  you  don't  mind  being  around  them.  well,  maybe  you're  a  bit  eager  to  see  them  again.  but  they're  probably  just  another  future  acquaintance  of  yours  anyways.  so,  why  not  entertain  yourself  a  bit  while  you're  both  at  it?

CONFIDANT  /  FOUND  FAMILY  [0/3] … you  might  not  be  the  most  social  person,  but  that  doesn't  mean  you're  not  good  at  making  friends.  given  your  selfless  nature,  you  have  done  quite  a  few  nice  deeds  for  others  and  well,  some  of  them  went  out  of  their  way  to  return  in  kind.  not  only  do  you  go  out  for  drinks,  but  support  one  another  when  things  get  rough.  there  is  an  unspoken  loyalty  lying  under  the  surface  and  you  would  never  do  anything  to  break  it. 

MENTEE  [1/2] … having  a  decade  of  experience  of  being  a  reaper  under  your  belt,  you're  quick  to  spot  new  potential  in  new  members  and  help  them  settle  in  and  excel.  however,  more  than  that,  you  found  yourself  unable  to  resist  lending  a  hand  to  those  that  need  it  most.  whether  it's  an  encouraging  word,  a  supportive  pat  on  the  back  or  even  a  look  of  acknowlegement  -  you've  got  them  covered. … [  PARTIALLY  TAKEN  BY:  ISA  ACEVEDO  ]

DRINKING  PAL  [0/3] … it's  nice  to  wind  down  after  an  eventful  day.  it's  even  nicer  to  have  good  company  to  share  a  drink  or  two.  they  just  happened  to  be  there  one  day/night  when  you  arrived  and  you've  found  yourself  having  a  good  time.  it  could  be  their  out  of  the  box  insights,  witty  remarks,  or  simply  shared  stories  of  the  past.  you  obsorb  it  all  the  same  along  with  your  liquor  and  hope  to  see  them  there  the  next  time  you'll  show  up.

SITUATIONSHIP  [0/2] … one  night  stand?  simple  flirtationship?  friends  with  benefits?  matters  in  this  regard  can  get  quite  messy  quite  quickly.  you're  not  the  best  material  for  a  ‘typical  relationship’,  but  then  again,  are  they?  you  swore  to  not  get  attached,  but  did  they?  how  is  that  working  out  for  you  when  you  hesitate  to  delete  their  number  after  telling  them  you  won't  see  them  again?  how  do  you  feel  after  finding  out  that  the  person  you  ended  up  spending  the  night  with  is  actually  a  new  member  of  the  reapers/diablos?  safe  to  say,  things  aren't  the  best  when  it  comes  to  the  matters  of  the  heart.

CLIENT  @  THE  QUAD  [0/3] … despite  your  unwavering  loyalty  to  the  reapers,  you  are  just  as  dedicated  to  your  job  as  a  trainer,  ensuring  your  clients  are  always  satisfied  and  their  needs  are  met.  whether  it's  adjusting  their  diet,  creating  a  workout  plan  to  build  muscle,  lose  weight,  just  staying  in  shape  or  even  self-defense  -  you're  prepared  to  tackle  any  challenge  that  will  present  itself  in  your  way.

HEADACHE  [0/2] … you  consider  yourself  quite  a  patient  person.  you've  seen  a  diverse  range  of  personalities  during  the  years,  but  there  are  a  few  that  somehow  manage  to  send  all  the  rest  mild  annoyances  scurrying  away  with  their  tails  between  their  legs.  how  on  earth  do  they  do  that,  you  keep  asking  yourself.  there  is  no  way.  and  yet…  they  emerge  victorious  each  time  they  manage  to  make  you  roll  your  eyes  and  sigh  in  frustration.  they  couldn't  be  more  different  than  you,  but  you  don't  blame  them  for  it.  well,  mostly.  because  as  much  as  you  try  to  tolerate  them,  they  keep  proving  their  undying  persistence  to  get  on  your  nerves  for  one  reason  or  another.  sometimes  you  wonder  whether  they  hold  a  secret  grudge  against  you  or  they  simply  enjoy  to  watch  you  suffer.  either  way,  you  can't  seem  to  escape  them  for  long.  unfortunately.

RIVAL  [0/3] … no  matter  where  you  look,  there  always  seems  to  be  at  least  one  troublemaker.  the  type  that  live  against  the  rules  most  of  the  time,  if  not  all  the  time.  it's  almost  like  they  are  wired  differently.  or  maybe  they  just  want  to  take  you  down  for  one  reason  or  another.  it's  never  fully  clear  with  their  kind.  you  keep  a  watchful  eye  on  them,  but  how  prepared  can  you  be  for  when  they  might  strike?  the  obvious  ones  are  easy  to  spot,  however  those  that  lurk  in  the  shadows?  they're  the  ones  having  you  break  a  sweat.

BAD  INFLUENCE  [0/2] … you  consider  yourself  a  ‘methodical  rebel’.  the  type  that  rebels  according  to  the  plan  you  yourself  have  came  up  with.  with  meticulous  care  and  clear-defined  goals.  but  there  has  always  been  that  impulsive  streak  in  you,  the  chaotic  side  that  is  simply  itching  to  let  loose  and  cause  some  damage.  and,  well,  there  are  a  few  individuals  who  simply  know  how  to  crack  the  code  and  let  the  beast  out.  sneaking  out  on  night  runs?  messing  with  some  of  diablos'  equipment?  knocking  that  irritating  drunk  out?  say  less.  all  you  know,  is  that  the  next  morning  you  always  find  yourself  regretting  allowing  the  bad  influence  to  sway  your  judgement,  no  matter  how  ‘fun’  things  felt  at  the  moment  of  commiting  any  of  those  reckless  acts.

ADDITIONAL  SUGGESTIONS  [OPEN] … have  some  ideas  where  you'd  like  to  take  our  characters?  angst?  something  spicy?  would  like  to  create  a  unique  connection  between  our  characters  that  is  not  yet  mentioned  in  the  connections  list?  or  simply  would  like  to  create  a  new  thread  and  test  out  the  waters  with  chemistry?  please,  do  not  hesitate  to  DM  me,  i'd  love  to  hear  any  and  all  ideas  you  may  have!!!

[everythingholy]

(  PEDRO  PASCAL.  FORTY  FIVE.  CIS  MAN.  HE/HIM.  )  in  texas,  ÁNGEL  MOLINA  is  known  to  most  as  THIRTEEN.  they  have  been  riding  with  the  diablos  for  TWENTY  years.  they’re  originally  from  STRATON  and  the  ENFORCER  is  known  to  be  very  SOBERSIDED  &  JADED  but  the  other  club  members  will  tell  you  they  are  LOYAL  &  UNWAVERING.  as  the  years  go  by,  they’ve  gained  a  lot  of  respect  in  the  club  and  around  town.  they’re  usually  at  MISS GINA'S,  working  as  a  COOK.  they  rarely  ever  drive  a  car  but  when  they  do  I’LL  BE  SEEING  YOU  by  BILLIE  HOLIDAY  is  usually  heard  blasting. ( midnight  cups  of  black  coffee,  old  medals  and  army  regalia  in  a  box  under  the  bed,  fingernails  stained  orange  with  tobacco,  a  rosary  dangling  off  the  handlebars  of  your  bike,  tattoos  with  stories  you  don’t  tell.  )  [  rome.  21+.  cst.  they/he.  ] / TW: ALCOHOLISM, GUNS.

you’ve  been  running  for  as  long  as  you  can  remember.  you  were  a  boy  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  tracks  with  an  itch  in  your  bones  to  break  the  rules.  other  boys,  older  and  wiser,  taught  you  how  to  live  free  and  die  hard  on  the  great  open  road.  the  first  time  your  hands  gripped  the  handles  of  a  motorcycle,  your  feet  could  barely  touch  the  pedals  —  but  you  took  to  it  like  a  champ.  you  knew  from  the  second  the  world  around  you  seemed  to  slow,  no  matter  how  fast  you  were  going,  that  this  would  be  a  dragon  you’d  spend  the  rest  of  your  life  chasing.  these  older  boys  influenced  you  further  down  this  reckless  and  delinquent  path  and,  soon  enough,  you  were  bobbing  and  weaving  past  the  cops  in  stolen  vehicles  at  the  ripe  age  of thirteen.

soon  enough,  daddy  dearest  caught  wise.  what  a  mess  you  got  yourself  into.  him  and  your  mother  spent  nights  screaming  at  the  top  of  their  lungs,  missing  sleep  over  figuring  out  how  exactly  they  were  going  to  deal  with  you.  eventually,  the  dust  settled.  you  had  to  cope  for  every  kid’s  worst  nightmare:  military  school.  there,  you  ate,  slept,  and  shit  routine.  it  carved  a  man  out  of  you  like  michelangelo  with  a  chisel.  they  taught  you  that  you  exist  in  this  world  to  be  a  man  with  a  gun,  and  who  were  you  to  complain  when  you  read  the  letters  your  mother  sent  exclaiming  how  proud  she  was  of  you?

you  signed  the  army’s  papers  the  moment  you  graduated  and  advanced  through  their  ranks  as  a  skilled  and  decorated  marksman.  after  your  first  deployment,  however,  a  switch  seemed  to  flip.  it  became  harder  to  ignore  the  panic  attacks  that  bordered  on  cardiac  arrest,  the  sudden  bouts  of  uncontrollable  sobbing,  and  the  nights  spent  drinking  you  can’t  remember.  before  you  knew  it,  the  discharge  papers  were  filed  and  all  of  those  medals  didn’t  mean  shit  anymore.

things  changed  when  you  arrived  back  in  straton.  everything  felt  smaller,  your  father  was  six  feet  underground,  and  your  mother  remodeled  the  kitchen.  the  lack  of  routine  and  incessant  quiet  made  your  skin  crawl,  so  who’s  surprised  that  it  didn’t  take  long  for  a  dog  like  you  to  get  back  to  his  old  tricks?  despite  what  would  become  a  new  job  ( that  you  hated )  and  a  new  home  ( an  apartment  the  size  of  a  shoebox ),  you  came  to  realize  that  you  couldn’t  live  without  a  purpose.  what  was  the  natural  solution  to  this?  staying  too  late  at  bars  you  had  no  reason  staying  late  at,  making  friends  who  all  seemed  to  have  devilish  little  tattoos,  and  spending  the  money  you  made  flipping  stolen  cars  on  a  jet  black  harley.  you  named  her  abeline.

 HEADCANONS

ángel  has  tattoos  just  about  everywhere  but  his  hands  and  his  face.  most  of  them  being  regrettable.  he  will  not  be  taking  anybody  on  a  tattoo  tour  any  time  soon.

the  only  thing  that  brings  him  real  joy  outside  of  church  and  his  bike  is  his  dog.  his  name  is  beaker,  he’s  a  rescue  german  shepard,  and  he’s  a  handful.  let  me  know  if  your  muse  can  dog  sit  lmao.

he  has  piss  poor  luck  in  the  man  department.  every  single  crush  he’s  had  on  a  man  has  been  a  fruitless  endeavor.  for  the  last  five  years  of  his  life  he’s  been  single  because  he  doesn’t  even  want  to  bother  anymore. 

he  works  on  his  uncle’s  farm  a  few  times  a  month  but  despite  dressing  and  sounding  like  a  cowboy  straight  from  the  rodeo,  he  doesn’t  spend  much  time  around  cattle  or  horses.  he’s  like  a  cowboy  if  his  bike  was  his  horse.

[jettail]

. . . . . ╰──╮ 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 – each one a souvenir from a place barely remembered.

in texas, 𝐉𝐄𝐓𝐓 𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐑𝐈 is known to most as 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊. he have been riding with the diablos for 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒. he is originally from 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐎 and the 𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐆𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 is known to be very 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇 & 𝐆𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 but the other club members will tell you he is 𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐂 & 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆. as the years go by, he have gained a lot of respect in the club and around town. he is usually at 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐎, working as a 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑. he rarely ever drive a car but when he do 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘 by 𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐒 is usually heard blasting.

i. musings ii. edits iii. pinterest

basic infos.

∙ nicknames — 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.

∙ age — 29, born april 7.

∙ ethnicity — thai, southeast asian.

∙ languages — english, thai, chinese & italian.

∙ sexuality — homosexual (& bottom).

headcanons.

∙ he’s 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 – 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.

∙ he has a black and white cat that he always carries in his bag when riding with the gang, which is why he’s always at the back – 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 hasnʼt gotten a name yet.

∙ 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 he’s collecting them for a reason, that one day, when he finds his sister again, he’ll lay them out in front of her like a map of everywhere he’s 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 – 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 – 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 wasn’t. 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 they’d have far from reno. he swore that one day, it’d be them against the world. at least, that’s 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 wasn’t allowed to be. the temptation was too strong to ignore. when the diablos gave him a chance, he took it, swearing he’d 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 wasn’t the biggest, the loudest, or the strongest, but he was relentless. he threw himself into everything – 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 didn’t care.

WAS I TOO LATE? when he finally came back, older, more sure of himself, ready to make things right – 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 club’s nightlife, quick with a drink and quicker with a joke. he had a reputation – foolish, charming, too trusting for his own good – but respect wasn’t something he had to chase anymore. he wasn’t 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.

∙ mew wanphen — sibling.

note: beyond these, iʼm 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 isnʼt 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, donʼt ever feel the need to match the length of my writings, either way is appreciated by me! <3

discord — wondy#2146 ( never feel intimidated to reach to me btw. iʼm just a silly player :p )

[ofsvcrifices]

in texas, MIKAELA MORALES ( THIRTY FOUR. FEMALE. SHE/HER. ) is more commonly known as MICKIE. they’ve been living in newton for THIRTY FOUR YEARS and are currently A VETERINARIAN. some say they are STUBBORN & UNTRUSTING but i’m more inclined to believe those that say they’re EMPATHETIC & PATIENT. if you walk by their house, you can sometimes hear LIGHT ME UP by INGRID MICHAELSON playing from their window. ( colorful scrubs with tiny tears from stray paws, ramen eggs always in the fridge, and discarded take out containers in an overflowing trash can )

───────────── google doc ○ pinterest ○ inspo ──────────────

ABOUT

Full Name: mikaela sofia lopez morales

Nickname: mickie (preferred), her mom (who refuses to call her mickie out of spit to her dead dad who gave her the nickname) calls her kayla

Age/DOB: april 20, 1990 (34)

Zodiac Sign: taurus

Gender: cis female

Place of Birth: newton, tx

Current Residence: straton, tx

Education: dvm (doctor of veterinary medicine) from texas a&m 

Sexual/Romantic Orientations: bisexual / biromantic

Relationship Status: single, but she feels widowed

Religion: technically she’s christian but she’s very much non-practicing (much to her mother’s dismay)

Occupation: owner & veterinarian at the infurmary vet clinic

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & PERSONALITY

Hair / Eye Color: brunette / dark brown

Height / Build: 5’5” / thin athletic build

Tattoos: none currently, but she’s planning a memorial one for declan

Piercings: right ear › three in her lobe and an industrial; left ear › four in her lobe, tragus, helix and daith

Scars: various on her arms and hands from work; an old, long one on the back of her left calf from a very unfortunate shaving incident when she was first learning

Negative Traits: stubborn, untrusting, overly cautious, judgemental, naive, emotional, easily overwhelmed

Positive Traits: empathetic, patient, dedicated, resourceful, compassionate, energetic, inexorable

Likes & Dislikes: extra crispy fries, the warmth of a dog snuggled up next to you during a nap, iced coffee no matter the season, any and all flavors of buldak ramen, watching a cat make biscuits, laughing so hard no sound comes out, burrowing beneath a blanket while the room is cold, stargazing, fondue, the sound of horse hooves on a solid surface, shower karaoke // wasting money, being rushed (to make a decision, get somewhere, etc), gas station bathrooms, small spaces, the smell of gasoline, holey socks, yellow mustard, dirty dishes lingering in the sink, unpainted nails, being told she won’t succeed/can’t do something, the dentist, motorcycle clubs, unannounced visitors, raspberries, people who dislike animals

FAMILY

Father: rafael ‘rubble’ morales (was a diablo; killed in prison in 2006, would be 62 if he were alive)

Mother: maribel lopez (56)

Sibling(s): none

Other Family: tbd

Pets: a tripod tortoiseshell cat named steven (6 years old), a black american shorthair cat named binx (8 years old), and an orange cat named martha (8 months old)

BIOGRAPHY

The surprise product of a one night stand between her 22 year old, wild child mother and the older man who’d caught her attention at the bar with the scar through his eyebrow, scruff covered jawline, and smile that could melt the polar icecaps, Mikaela Morales’ life should have been full of leather vests, the sound of motorcycles, and people who looked intimidating but weren’t to those that mattered. She should have been someone who mattered. But her mother had other plans.

About, oh, a third of the way into her pregnancy Maribel Lopez found herself with some spotting and, understandably, panicked. This was her first child and surely this wasn’t a good thing. After a not-so-quick trip to the hospital the woman’s day went from bad to worse. She got into a car accident and ended up back in the ER and that’s where she met them. A group of women who prayed over her and Mickie and invited the expectant mother to their prayer group. This was the beginning of Maribel’s “journey to Christ” and Mickie and Rubble’s nightmare.

Before Mickie was born, Maribel laid down the law. Rubble was allowed to be in their daughter’s life on two conditions: he’d go with her to church at least twice a month and he promised to never take their daughter around the Diablos’- whether that be the clubhouse or the members. Rubble, of course, said hell no. The club was his family and his daughter deserved to be raised around people who loved her. But Maribel and her cult support system wouldn’t budge. Mikaela would be raised in “a life of Christ”, which did not involve the Diablos. At first, Rubble was angry enough to tell Mirabel that if she didn’t want him in his own daughter’s life then fine. He wouldn’t be. But then Mickie was born and from the moment he saw her through the hospital window he was cooked. Done. And he agreed to all of Maribel’s guidelines.

Mickie’s childhood, to her, was normal. Her dad had her every other weekend and she spent most of her time with her mother and her mom’s friends. She went to church every Wednesday and Sunday, attended Sunday School, and (unknowingly to her mom) spent her dad’s weekends with him at the Diablos’ clubhouse. Her world consisted of a lot of secrets, but the delicate truce formed between her parents quickly came crashing down. All because eight year old Mickie forgot to lie. 

Once Maribel found out that Rubble was taking Mickie to the clubhouse, therefore breaking his promise to not expose their daughter to “his world of sin” and she banned Rubble from seeing Mickie. Not only did she cut her daughter off from her father, but she began a very convincing slander campaign against Rubble and all motorcycle clubs. And thus began Mickie’s disdain for motorcycles, motorcycle clubs, and her father. She was an eight year old girl who loved and trusted her mother, after all. Why would she lie?

When Mickie was 12 years old, after a full two years of no contact (she’d allowed her mother to manipulate her into drawing an impassible line with her father, who’d been reaching out in whatever way he could to keep contact with her), Rubble was sent to prison. His sentence had been for ten years, but he’d only spend three behind bars before he was killed. Maribel used his prison sentence and subsequent death as proof that her father was leading an ungodly life and suffered the consequences, which in turn solidified young Mickie’s view on the clubs and the lifestyle her father led.

It wasn’t until she went away to college to pursue her dream of becoming a vet and got some space from her mother and her friends’ toxic viewpoints of their hometown. Her world view had suddenly expanded and she began to see the clubs and their members, her father, in a different light. It was around this time her relationship with her mother began to truly fracture and she was flooded with guilt for the way she treated her father, a man who’d only ever loved her and tried to be in her life.

As Mickie continued to grow and mature, her view of the world softened and her true, compassionate and empathetic personality was allowed to shine. As she began to find herself outside of her mother’s religious and overbearing shadow, she truly blossomed. And naturally, the happier she became, the better her life was.

She was a junior at Texas A&M when, on a visit home, she met the man who’d end up turning her entire world on its axis. Declan Evenson was beautiful, charming, and everything Mickie didn’t know she’d been looking for. He was older, intelligent, a steady man she found herself drawn to like a moth to a flame. Their romance blossomed and flourished just like the plants he loved so much. So when Mickie learned of Declan’s rather… illicit form of income, she decided to pull from the grace she hadn’t been taught by her mother, but by her father. She wouldn’t judge, instead she’d learn and try to understand. And once she understood that Declan wasn’t a hardened criminal like her mother would have her believe, he was a good man doing the best he could to support his family, it was easy for her to look past his illegal operations.

Their relationship grew along with her career, with the help of Declan, some grants, and a few angel investors, Mickie was able to buy a small plot of land that had two structures on it. One, a very small three bedroom ranch served as her home. The other was nearly demolished to create a state of the art animal clinic she dubbed The Infurmary. She had everything she could ever want. Her career was thriving and she’d found the love of her life. But as Robert Frost once said… nothing gold can stay.

It started off small, Declan staying out later, having to go further. Spending more time working on his creations than he had been before. At first Mickie chalked it up to his passion, his love for his craft, but soon enough it wasn’t as easy to overlook the way he was constantly looking over his shoulder. His dealing operation had grown along with her clinic, and while her side of their lives remained lawful, Declan’s had slipped further and further into the shadows. While she wasn’t the naive girl who cut her father off anymore, she still had pretty strict moral compass, and she was worried that she could lose the love of her life in the same way she’d lost her father. Except this time she’d be around to mourn. And this time she had the opportunity to stop it.

Their once solid relationship began to fray at the seams, her worry for the people Declan was beginning to associate with turning to anger in his seeming inability to hear her. She wasn’t trying to hurt him or his business, she wasn’t trying to impose her own morals onto him, but she wanted him safe. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him without having to look over their shoulders. Without needing weapons tucked in the glove compartment and security systems installed around their respective homes. But Declan was too far in, going down a path Mickie was no longer willing to follow.

The end of their decade-long love story would come swiftly. She’d put up with the danger, with his customers showing up on her doorstep looking for him, with the club members he’d been dealing to using her as a pseudo off the books doctor once word got around she was willing to help (damn her empathetic heart), but the final straw was when she noticed narcotics had gone missing from the clinic. She watched the video back and there he was, the love of her life, stealing from her. And when she confronted him, his initial reaction was to lie. She knew he hadn’t taken the drugs to take himself, but lying and stealing? She couldn’t handle it anymore. She loved him, but she was getting to a point where that love wasn’t enough. So she made the singlehanded hardest decision of her life and ended the relationship. It was never meant to be forever. He was supposed to get himself together and come back to her as the man she knew he could be. The man she knew he was. But a year after their breakup Declan was shot and killed while delivering to a client and her world was thrown into a turmoil she still hasn’t recovered from.

It’s been a few months now and the guilt hasn’t lessened. Neither has the weight of the loss that had a vice grip on her heart and Mickie was beginning to crack beneath the weight of it all. There are time she feels like she can’t breathe knowing Declan is no longer a phone call away. He should still be here with them, with her. She should have been there for him. Had she not left him to his own devices, had she not selfishly put herself first, she was certain he’d still be alive. Mickie is trying to learn how to navigate this new world, one where the color has faded and the light has dimmed. 

HEADCANONS

In the wake of Declan’s death, Mickie has been feeling an immeasurable amount of guilt for abandoning him the way she had, which has sort of sent her in a downward spiral. She’s hanging around both of the clubs’ hangouts and Deseo- places she wouldn’t have normally frequented- and becoming a woman even she doesn’t recognize. She’s drowning her sorrow in the bottom of liquor bottles, searching for any feeling against the lips of strangers, trying to smother the guilt beneath the sheets of beds in seedy motel rooms. But nothing’s working and she’s finding herself falling, afraid she might lose herself beneath the onslaught of grief but unable to swerve to avoid the inevitable collision with rock bottom.

Declan is the reason she began treating members of the local clubs- he’d gotten in the middle of something one night while delivering to one of his regular customers, a member of one of the local chapters, and the customer ended up getting stabbed. In a panic, Declan brought him to Mickie, begging her to help stitch him up. She was reluctant, knowing that working on humans could lose her her license, her dream, but she’d do anything for Declan and she hated seeing the other man in pain. However, word quickly got around that the couple could be a one stop shop. Avoid the hospital, get stitched up, and get something to help take the edge off. Even after their breakup she’s had people showing up at her door. She always lets them in, but she’s becoming more and more agitated by the whole thing. 

Growing up, her single mother worked as a home healthcare and hospice nurse, and because she kept such long hours Mickie was often left to fend for herself for meals. She was never really taught to cook by her mom, but she can make anything out of a box or a package and gets by pretty well with that. Before Declan’s death she didn’t eat out much, but lately she hasn’t had the energy to cook and a lot of her income is going to take out meals and bottles of booze.

Makes what she calls ‘Mickie’s Mac’ and claims it’s the best mac and cheese since, well, the original mac and cheese (all it is is the boxed stuff but she uses both the powder and velveeta-esque cheeses along with butter, milk, black pepper, and garlic salt). It’s her favorite meal and you can often catch her buying boxes of mac and cheese when they’re on sale for this specific reason.

The only semi-healthy coping mechanism she’s picked up from losing Declan is running. She goes for a run every night, usually at some odd, unsafe hour, because she’s been unable to sleep since she found out the news. However, while running is good, it’s healthy, the way Mickie does it isn’t. It’s not the fact that she doesn’t eat nearly enough to sustain her body on the runs she’s been going on, it’s that she runs quite literally until her body gives out and she can’t run anymore. So if you see her somewhere weird just laying on the ground… mind your business. She’s just resting.

One of her favorite things to do on a clear night is lay out a blanket on her roof and stare at the stars. She and Declan used to lay out there, making up their own constellations since neither one of them could point anything out except for Orion’s Belt, until they fell asleep, wrapped up in each other’s embrace. She hasn’t been on that roof since he died.

Has never met a breakfast burrito she didn’t love and breakfast is truly her favorite food category. She’ll eat it any time, any place. 

She’s also a big true crime fan. She really likes watching Dark History and Murder, Mystery, and Makeup by Bailey Sarian on YouTube. 

Got incredibly lucky with her acceptance to Texas A&M, as she was awarded a partial academic scholarship that covered most of her expenses, with the rest covered in grants she’d applied for and was awarded- so when she left school with her degree she had very minimal debt. She was able to pay off her small student loans before opening up her clinic.

Has her very own ‘product of’ jacket along with her dad’s kutte tucked away in the back of her closet. She doesn’t understand the significance of any of it since she wasn’t really raised amongst the club (like she wore her dad’s vest as part of SOA Halloween costume one year in college), but she’s sentimental about it because it’s a small piece of her father. Of a man she wasn’t allowed to know but now wishes she had been.

[ofareios]

in  texas,  RHYS  BLANCO  is  known  to  most  as  BULLET.  they  have  been  riding  with  the  reapers  for  ONE  MONTH.  they’re  originally  from  HOUSTON  and  the  PROSPECT  is  known  to  be  very  CULPABLE  &  RASH  but  the  other  club  members  will  tell  you  they  are  METICULOUS  &  PENITENT.  as  the  years  go  by,  they’ve  gained  a  lot  of  respect  in  the  club  and  around  town.  they’re  usually  at  THE  FORGE,  working  as  a  BARTENDER.  they  rarely  ever  drive  a  car  but  when  they  do  INSTANT  CRUSH  by  DAFT  PUNK  is  usually  heard  blasting.

BASICS.

name  :  rhys  blanco

alias  :  bullet

age  :  thirty-two

dob  :  september  28

gender  &  pronouns  :  cis  man  &  he  /  him 

orientation  :  bisexual

occupation  :  prospect  for  the  reapers  &  bartender  at  the  forge

HISTORY.

hometown :  houstan,  texas

ethnicity  :   venezuelan  &  serbian

relatives  :  rafael  blanco  (  father  ),  gwen  blanco  (  mother  -  deceased  ),  tba  blanco  (  half  -  brother  )

education  :  high  school  dropout

APPERANCE.

height  :  185  cm

build  :  lean,  toned

hair  :  dark  brown

eyes  :  brown

tattoos  :  skull  (  on  his  right  forearm  ),  a  shadow  of  a  fire  flaming  (  on  his  ankle  )

faceclaim  :  sean  teale

BIO.

trigger warnings : murder, fire

rhys  blanco  has  always  been  drawn  to  fire.  not  just  the  warmth  or  the  light,  but  the  hunger  of  it  and  the  way  it  turns  everything  to  ash.  he  was  too  young  to  understand  consequences  when  he  struck  that  first  match,  too  young  to  know  that  curiosity  could  kill  more  than  a  cat.  by  the  time  the  flames  swallowed  his  childhood  home,  by  the  time  his  mother  stopped  screaming,  it  was  too  late.

his  father  never  forgave  him.  never  looked  at  him  the  same  way.  rhys  grew  up  under  hatred  and  grief  so  strong  that  it  cut  him  open  from  the  inside.  but  he  never  ran  away,  he  let  it  fester.  he  deserved  it,  maybe  he  deserved  worse.  what’s  the  worst  punishment  a  man  can  get  ?  rhys  still  hasn’t  figured  it  out.  he  keeps  testing  fate,  playing  with  his  lighters,  throwing  himself  into  the  flames  just  to  see  if  this  time,  it’ll  burn  him  for  good.

the  reapers  are  another  game,  another  chance  to  get  what’s  coming  to  him.  his  older  brother,  a  current  member,  vouched  for  him  and  got  him  that  ‘prospect’  title  that  barely  holds  weight.  a  month  in,  and  rhys  still  isn’t  sure  how  much  of  him  belongs  to  the  club.  loyalty  isn’t  really  his  thing.  he  doesn’t  stay  in  one  place  long,  never  has.  he  dropped  out  of  high  school,  hopped  from  bar  to  bar,  mixing  drinks,  running  his  mouth,  disappearing  whenever  the  walls  started  to  close  in.  he’s  good  at  making  himself  useful,  but  he’s  better  at  slipping  away.

but  the  thrill,  the  rush…  he's  obsessed  with  that.  the  blood  thumping  in  his  veins  when  things  get  dangerous.  the  heat  of  a  fight,  the  snap  of  a  lighter,  the  feeling  that  perhaps  he’s  one  bad  decision  away  from  finally  getting  what  he  deserves.  at  least  the  fire  still  loves  him  &  the  flames  don’t  judge.

[scturnz]

name    ⏤    kendra    moore    .    affiliation    ⏤    civilian  (  diablos  nepo  bby  )    .    age    ⏤    thirty  -  seven    occupation    ⏤    owner  of  deseo    .    zodiac    sign    ⏤    capricorn     .    gender    +    pronouns    +    orientation    ⏤    cis    woman    +    she    /    her    +    pansexual    .    inspired    characters    ⏤    mary  jane  paul  ,  bonnie  bennett  ,  charlotte  york  ,  sidney  shaw  ,  prue  halliwell  ,  cece  parekh  ,  tara  knowles  ,  blanca  rodriguez  ,  haley  james  scott  ,  meredith  grey

daughter  of  one  of  the  founding  members  of  the  mc  and  the  only  man  to  ever  enchant  queenie  moore  ,  kendra  was  second  in  the  family  line  but  never  considered  any  less  worthy  than  her  brothers  .  her  mother  had  the  highest  of  expectations  for  her  too  ,  which  is  why  she  was  in  private  schools  right  out  the  gate  .  weekends  were  filled  with  gymnastics  and  ballet  ,  after  school  piano  practices  and  language  classes  on  the  weekdays  .  to  this  day  ,  she's  still  fluent  in  spanish  ,  french  ,  and  arabic  .

if  the  pressure  ever  of  her  mother's  wants  for  ever  weighed  heavy  on  the  young  girl  ,  she  didn't  outwardly  show  it  .  however  ,  she  remembers  spending  her  sunday  mornings  praying  that  her  mother  would  forget  about  the  ballet  class  she  had  to  get  ready  for  ,  that  she'd  go  on  a  run  so  she  could  skip  her  after  school  classes  .  the  latter  never  even  happened  ,  her  babysitters  were  always  well  informed  of  what  she  had  to  do  .  so  kendra  would  go  and  she  would  excel  but  she  was  never  truly  happy  about  it  .

in  high  school  ,  kendra  became  much  more  aware  of  who  exactly  her  mother  was  .  she'd  always  known  her  mother  rode  motorcycles  and  ran  a  club  but  after  her  father's  unfortunate  passing  ,  the  young  girl  watched  as  her  mom  threw  herself  into  the  club  and  into  deseo  .  kendra  wasn't  allowed  to  slack  on  her  grades  or  her  extracurriculars  but  neither  was  her  mom  ,  who  was  determined  to  create  not  just  a  legacy  for  herself  within  the  diablos  but  smth  for  her  kids  to  take  on

when  kendra  got  into  tulane  ,  it  was  to  no  one's  real  shock  .  her  first  year  there  ,  studying  business  ,  it  went  fine  .  her  first  three  years  were  fine  .  it  wasn't  until  her  senior  year  ,  a  little  worn  out  with  the  party  scene  ,  did  she  return  home  for  a  weekend  only  to  find  out  her  mother  typically  took  fridays  off  to  drive  to  houston  and  manage  one  of  her  other  businesses  .  kendra  ,  with  a  sudden  and  slightly  uncharacteristic  urge  to  raise  a  little  hell  ,  snuck  over  to  deseo  and  convinced  the  manager  to  let  her  on  stage  for  a  short  five  minute  show  before  the  club  got  too  packed  .  there  was  a  lot  of  hemming  and  hawing  but  soon  enough  ,  she  was  spinning  around  the  pole  and  had  earned  herself  a  smooth  $500

a  deal  was  struck  ,  she  performed  under  the  name  diamond  on  fridays  ,  nobody  was  to  tell  her  mother  ,  and  she'd  live  out  whatever  little  bad  girl  fantasy  she'd  cooked  up  in  her  head  until  she  graduated  .  and  she  was  a  hit  ,  making  hundreds  every  friday  ,  a  star  in  the  making  at  one  point  .except  of  course  her  mother  found  out  and  when  she  did  ,  she  tore  kendra  new  one  .  for  once  ,  she  stood  up  for  herself  ,  asserting  that  if  she  couldn't  dance  at  deseo  ,  she'd  just  do  it  somewhere  else  .  the  two  women  faced  off  and  for  once  ,  kendra  won  . 

she  continued  to  attend  school  ,  except  she  got  her  masters  at  university  of  houston  for  an  easier  weekly  commute  ,  and  was  set  to  quit  after  she  recieved  her  last  diploma  …  and  then  she  met  lee  .

another  stab  to  her  mother's  gut  ,  lee  was  not  the  kind  of  man  queenie  had  wanted  kendra  to  end  up  with  but  it  was  who  she  got  ,  especially  after  the  two  ran  off  together  .  she  swore  that  she  had  never  been  happier  than  she  was  for  those  brief  six  months  .

their  divorce  was  her  choice  ,  a  sign  of  her  stubbornness  truly  ,  because  she'd  regretted  even  asking  for  a  divorce  as  soon  as  she  had  uttered  the  words  .  however  ,  she  stuck  to  her  guns  and  filed  the  paperwork  .  she  went  back  to  her  mother's  house  with  her  tail  tucked  and  dedicated  her  time  to  deseo  .  she  was  the  one  who  spearheaded  the  renovation  project  ,  turning  the  club  into  the  two  floor  ,  three  stage  ,  high  end  powerhouse  it  is  now  .  when  her  mother  retired  two  years  ago  ,  she  signed  ownership  of  the  club  to  kendra  ,  with  the  promise  that  she  would  continue  to  pay  a  percentage  of  her  earnings  to  the  club  and  let  them  carry  out  business  there  .  easy  ,  not  a  problem  .

now  ,  she's  the  big  boss  in  charge  and  she  loves  it  .  her  social  life  is  pretty  bland  ,  has  been  since  the  divorce  but  she  acts  like  she  doesn't  mind  it  .  really  ,  she's  sort  of  miserable  ,  sitting  in  her  house  with  her  pink  furniture  and  her  rottweiler  ,  wishing  she  was  still  the  wild  girl  she'd  been  when  she  was  on  that  stage  or  riding  around  with  lee  .

[dcmnedbythelight]

( LUCIEN LAVISCOUNT. THIRTY FOUR. CIS MAN. HE/HIM. ) in texas, RIAN WASHINGTON is known to most as DC. they have been riding with the reapers for FOUR YEARS. they’re originally from ROSWELL, NM and the SOLDIER FOR THE REAPERS is known to be very CALCULATING & DETACHED but the other club members will tell you they are LOYAL & EMPATHIC. as the years go by, they’ve gained a lot of respect in the club and around town. they’re usually at THE QUAD, working as a PERSONAL TRAINER. they rarely ever drive a car but when they do LEAVING TONIGHT BY THE NEIGHBORHOOD is usually heard blasting. ( wired earphones wrapped around an mp3 player, the smell of rain in the middle of the night, messy hair flying in the wind as he rides his motorcycle )

STATS:

Nicknames: DC

Character Age:  35

Affiliation: Soldier for the Reapers

Occupation: Physical Trainer @ The Quad

Sexuality: Bisexual

Birthday: November 13th

Faceclaim: Aaron Taylor Johnson

Hometown: Roswell, NM

WANTED CONNECTIONS (coming soon)

Character Inspiration: Kevin (Shameless), Angel (BTVS), Spooky (On My Block), Rick Grimes (The Walking Dead), Tim Riggins (Friday Night Lights)

tldr;

dc grew up in a very wealthy family and he always seeked out one thing; the thrill of danger. he was rebellious and very much found trouble everywhere he went. falling into the vices of an adrenaline junkie began with street racing, eventually developed into being the driver a bank heists with a crew that eventually got caught in a different continent, but being the driver gave him a great advantage enough to run back to america and restart his life. he joined the reapers in aspiration to find solace in a group of people, rather than the thrill of it all. the first couple of years as a prospect, he was a little paranoid but nowadays has found a place with the reapers. usually more on the quiet side of life, but is a people person. he will do anything for the reapers as loyalty is his favorite language, basically.

learn more about him...

random facts

has very silly, small tattoos all over his body and he can’t remember how he got half of them. he also has one of his nipples pierced because he was dared to do it and he’s not a quitter.

loves spending money on the most random things he can buy for some reason, it's a problem

it's very athletic but hates sports ??

can come off as pretty selfless despite struggling to connect with people at first, and is down right a people pleaser

talks a lot, but doesn't say much, if that makes sense

he knows where his parents and siblings live but has not talked to them in over a decade (since he began his life of crime)

he’s so competitive that one time he played a monopoly game for over 8 hours just to get the win

loves to sleep and will nap literally anywhere

lives in a farm with fellow reaper, emine

although he is disciplined and logical, follows his heart most of the times when it comes to important decisions in his life

biography

born in roswell, nm to a family that owned a ranch and multiple businesses.

back then he went by rian, and rian was raised to be a successful heir to a pretty large and famous conglomerate but such thing was never in his own plans

as he grew up, he began to show a wilder side and was sent to boarding school until he hit high school. when he came back home to his parent she had been expelled from five schools.

it was in roswell, as a teen that he began street racing. it was simple at first; mostly for money but really more to satiate his need for adrenaline

the first time that he did his first heist was because he owed money and being the driver was used as his payment. but that led to more and more heists.

the money was great but he had found something he always lacked; a family, in this group of people that went around the world wreaking havoc and having fun.

it was in France that one of those heists went wrong and he had to make the decision to wait for his team or to run away. DC waited for as long as he could, but ultimately, he ran away.

by the next morning, he was back in america. DC never looked up what happened to his team or where they went; he had done the unforgivable and that was to run away

the first few months back in his home country were a nightmare of paranoia and feeling guilty, but after traveling aimlessly he found himself at the forge almost everyday, simply existing

joining the reapers was something he didn't exactly planned, but just happened, he saw them come in and out of the bar and stroke conversation with a few, finally he decided to start his process as a prospect

although he misses driving cars, he's found solace in riding bikes, but most importantly he has found a second home with this group of people and he is determined not to ruin it this time. he'd do anything for the mc and everyone involved in it.

possible connections;

the first reaper: this could be maybe someone that helped him get familiar with the mc and probably a sort of mentor for him, leaving it pretty open here, tbh

someone from his past: could be someone that met him when he was with the heist crew, in europe or somewhere else in the world and got to see him before he became more quiet, like he is now, could be a friendly connection or maybe a romantic connection.

a rival: i think it'd be fun if maybe dc and this person met when he was a prospect for the reapers (maybe y/c was also a prospect for the diablos at the time) and they just constantly hate on each other and probably make everything a competition. if we want it more serious perhaps one of them hurt the other during a bar fight and it's just stuck that they just don't like each other, maybe.

+ friends, childhood friends, fwb, hook ups, exes, one night stands, enemies, rivals, drinking buddies, partners in crime, love interests, anything you can think of that your character can fit into his life!

[grcatride]

introducing… RICKY ROBLES

in texas, RICHARD ROBLES is known to most as RICKY. they have been riding with the diablos for TEN YEARS. they’re originally from DALLAS and the ENFORCER is known to be very IMPULSIVE & IRRESPONSIBLE but the other club members will tell you they are CONFIDENT & INDEPENDENT. as the years go by, they’ve gained a lot of respect in the club and around town. they’re usually at DESEO, working as a SECURITY GUARD. they rarely ever drive a car but when they do CATS IN THE CRADLE by HARRY CHAPIN is usually heard blasting. ( white knuckled fists that were clenched a bit too long, tattoos that have lost their meaning, and a black eye but you should see the other guy )

➨ BASICS

FULL NAME: richard "ricky" robles.

AGE: 33.

BIRTHDAY: october 26th.

ZODIAC SIGN: scorpio.

GENDER: cis man

FACECLAIM: danny ramirez.

HOMETOWN: dallas, tx.

OCCUPATION: security guard at deseo & enforcer for the diablos.

➨ BULLET POINTS

triggers: violence

Originally from Dallas, Ricky was in foster care almost his whole life. It's made him paranoid, even though his fosters parents always treated him kindly and some what say the ones that he was placed with the best. But Ricky didn't like to accept love and all that good stuff, he was more into the woe is me and that stuff. He figured he didn't deserve the niceness, and kind of had a chip on his shoulder. It caused him to have a lot of built up anger and resentment.

After he aged out of the system, Ricky made his living by entering fights in different areas. People would place money on him, or against him, and that's how he made a good chunk of it. He'd also do odd jobs here and there.

He eventually found his way to Stratford. He pretty much felt like the Diablos were his calling, and wanted to be patched as soon as he possibly could. It took a little while, of course, but he proved his worth.

Enter Natalia. She was patching him up one day, and thinks just kinda happened from there. They've always been on and off, maybe because Ricky also doesn't think he deserves to be loved like that, but nonetheless, she's given him the perfect little man. Their son is the light of his life (besides Natalia), and being a dad has been given him a new meaning of life. It's been a few years since he was born, and he's tried his best to be a good dad but it's sure as hell hard. At least he's not getting into as many brawls. That's a start.

He may be a little hot headed but it's seemed to work out for the better in this line of work. Now he spends his days working security at the Deseo, and as an Enforcer for the Diablos.

➨ WANTED CONNECTIONS

best friends

sparring buddy

foster sibling(s)

more to be added!!

[badreviws]

( pat chayanit. twenty six. cis woman. she/her. ) in texas, wanphen suthamphong is more commonly known as mew. they’ve been living in stratford for one month and currently a waitress at miss gina's. some say they are flighty & impulsive but i’m more inclined to believe those that say they’re adaptable & lionhearted. if you walk by their house, you can sometimes hear midnight sky by miley cyrus playing from their window. associated with : the feeling of falling in love with every stranger you meet, long bus rides as you think about the past left behind, the desire to find a new place to be from, becoming a faded memory. )

⌗ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 :

has never known what it means to be a stable. from the moment you're born, your entire life feels like a tidal wave. chaos brimming in every corner. your father? gone. your mother? surprised she can even be called that — she didn’t love you. not like she said she did. if she truly loved you, you would’ve been one of her main priorities. instead, it was always the next bottle. the next trip to the liquor store.

now … your sibling? they are your rock – well, were your rock. they were the closest thing to a parent you could have had. the one who stepped up when your mother couldn’t. the one who did they’re best to hide the horrors of life before you were old enough to really open your eyes and face reality. they kept you safe. made a promise that one day it’d be you two against the world. you’d get out of this town, together, and never look back. that’s the kind of person your sibling was. who are they now? you wouldn’t know. you may have made it out of your hometown, but it wasn’t together. not like they said.

you were only fourteen when they left. the promise that they’d return lingering in your thoughts as the days passed on. days turned to weeks. weeks turned to months. months to years and you never saw them again. all that remained was their memory. it took a couple years before you finally gained the understanding that they weren’t coming back. it was okay, though. you found solstice in someone else. someone who understood how you felt, someone with the same desire to get out and never look back. then came graduation. future plans discussed but they never seemed to align with yours — no matter how much you try to convince them. the future plans didn’t involve the way you saw it at all. to make matters worse, you stopped being apart of their future plans all together. the relationship you held onto so strongly was ripped apart from the seams and you’re left crying with another disappointment to bear. another loss.

there’s a moment where you feel like you’re never going to leave. it’s going to be you, your barely sober mother and this horrible town forever. it didn’t take long for that sadness to turn to rage. a rage so strong that you never stuck around to hear an explanations because by the next morning, you’re already gone. an anger so strong that it gave you courage to get on a late night bus and disappear without a second thought. it was you and only you ready to tackle on the world.

and that’s how it’s been ever since.

⌗ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 :

don’t let her sweet smile fool you. while she may be nice, there’s only one person mew looks out for and it’s herself. it doesn’t matter who gets hurt in the process.

treats everything like a game or as if there’s not an issue with how she handles everything. she knows what she’s doing is fucked up (most cases) but there’s not a single thing she’d change. the type to leave you and then when you see her again, she’ll smile in your face as if nothing was wrong.

commitment issues run rampant in this one. coming from a house that didn’t have any love, constant promises made but never kept. she doesn’t have it in her anymore to believe someone when they say they’re here to stay. friendships, relationships, her living situations. everything she does in her life stems from the fear of commitment. when something feels a little too real, mew runs away. leave before your left, that’s what she stands by.

has been a little bit everywhere throughout the years. her longest relationship is with the public transportation system. it’s how she gets around and travels from state to state. never really has a map in mind or a direction in place — she just goes whatever one way train / bus ticket is cheapest and figures out life from there. which is absolutely WILD but it works for her. hardly stays in places for longer than a year — which is a rarity in itself.

was in texas previously, but in the big city. not the small town. honestly, this town was never on her list but merely a stop on the way to her initial destination — maybe a small part of her missed her hometown or maybe she needed as close to a reminder as she could get for why she left home. whatever it was, something called out loud enough for her to get off the bus and call this town her temporary home.

actually a real big flirt. it’s in her dna, how she skurts through life — stroking egos, laying in beds and all for her own benefit i fear.

more tba <3

⌗ 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 :

high school sweetheart. ( will send to the main. ) whether y/m was a transplant in louisiana or a native, the two of them immediately hit it off from the second they met each other. puppy love some would call it, and eventually, mew understood why. the two once had the same idea of what they wanted from the world — to actually see it — but eventually, any future plans came crumbling down the day they broke up. mew disappeared after that and life is so funny because what do you mean they’ve somehow wound up in the place?? this place of all places??? — open to f/nb.

older sibling. ( will also be sending to the main. ) they haven’t seen each other in years. 12 years to be exact and the relationship that once was strong seemingly faded the minute he left town. their homelife was terrible and y/m was the one who seemed to keep everything afloat starting from a very young age. they’d made a promise to mew that they’d get out of their small town together and left with an assurance that they’d be back once situated. only, they never came back. the reason as to why is completely up to you — could’ve gotten involved with the biker gang and didn’t want mew associated, understandably wanted to live their life for themselves, never felt ready, whatever works for your muse. they also could’ve came back, but mew was gone and impossible to get in touch with — open to any gender identity, has to be at least half- thai or half-chinese.

ex. ( also sending to the main 😗 ). there had once been a time after leaving when mew believed that maybe settling down wasn’t as bad as she thought. everything was going smoothly until they asked her to move in with them. a stepping stone into building their future together and at first, she agreed. hesitantly. with not much to bring anyway, she was in their home by that same night. that’s when reality kicked in and the very moment when mew decided she wasn’t ready for it. the past repeats itself and by the next morning, she’s gone with nothing but a note left behind. :)))))))) karma’s really out to get her ass, i fear. AND GOOD. — open to m/nb.

people she’s met throughout the last six years. could be from anywhere! i don’t really have all the places where she’s visited mapped out, so any of the 50 states shall do. they good be on good standing or bad ones (maybe mew fucked them over, ghosted them when leaving, etc. )

roommate(s). someone(s) that mew immediately hit it off with when arriving to town. call them both crazy, but that had good feelings about each other and they wound up letting mew stay with them: with the understanding she’s not going to be there forever. she’s a great housemate i promise ! taken by mikhail.

one night stands, flirtationships, hookups, etc.

friends that she’s made since coming to texas.

people that just don’t like her. maybe they get off vibes from her and we get it. drag her ass.

regulars at the diner.

someone(s) who has managed to pull mew out of a bad situation (because im sure she unintentionally finds herself in many)

a person that she's fucked over in the past (whether it’s cheating, stealing, using them, etc.)

someone who sees right through her.

confidants (people she felt/feels a strong enough connection to open up with / at least partly)

a person she’s met up with while on the road and maybe they went to a couple different cities together and then separated.

more to be added.

[windturns]

in  texas,  camille  king  is  more  commonly  known  as  cami.  they’ve  been  living  in  newton  for  one  year  and  currently  work  as  a  librarian at eternal  books.  some  say  they  are  insecure  &  pretentious  but  i’m  more  inclined  to  believe  those  that  say  they’re  shrewd  &  attentive.  if  you  walk  by  their  house,  you  can  sometimes  hear  lacy  by  olivia  rodrigo  playing  from  their  window.

༄　𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗩𝗜𝗘𝗪.

full  name.　camille  angeline  king　　aliases.　cami　　birthdate.　23rd  december ( 24 )　　hometown.　roanoke, virginia　　gender  +  pronouns.　cis  woman  +  she/her　　orientation.　bisexual　　zodiac.　capricorn　　occupation.　librarian  at  eternal  books　　face  claim.　simone  kessell　　aesthetics.　tucking  away  strands  of  hair  that  stick  to  glossy  lips,  perfectly  manicured  nails  impatiently  tapping  against  a  surface,  opening  a  box  of  old  clothes  from  your  mother  that  you  never  got  to  wear.

༄　𝗜𝗡-𝗗𝗘𝗣𝗧𝗛.

you  were  born  on  just  a  few  hours  shy of christmas eve,  much  to  the  delight  of  your  devoutly  catholic  parents.  ever  since  then,  beliefs  were  hammered  into  you  like  a  nail  gun  on  wood,  over  and  over  again.  you  never  understood  it,  even  as  as  you  grew  older.  all  you  knew  was  that  one  wrong  move,  and  you  would  feel  the  flames  lick  your  skin  in  the  afterlife  unless  you  chose  to  repent  and  turn  to  god. as  expected,  you  were  a  relatively  sheltered  child.  you  had  no  real  friends,  save  for  you  older  brother,  who  you  adored  with  every  fiber  of  your  being.  you  regarded  him  as  your  hero,  your  idol,  a  saint,  in  your  eyes.  but  he  was  far  for  saintly.  he  was  trouble  incarnate,  coming  home  late  at  night  smelling  of  cigarettes  and  alcohol  and  taking  regular  verbal  lashings  from  your  mother  once  morning  came.  the  last  you'd  seen  of  him  would've  been  when  he  came  into  your  room  and  kissed  your  forehead  thinking  you  were  asleep. you  spend  most  of  your  teenage  years  alone.  you  tell  yourself  it's  fine,  who  needs  friends  when  you  have  books  to  keep  you  company?  but  your  heart  aches  and  threatens  to  burst  out  of  your  ribcage  when  you  hear  laughter  on  the  street.  the  pain  is  too  much  to  bear.  you  want  to  claw  your  way  out.  is  this  how  your  brother  felt?  is  that  why  he  left? college  is  your  ticket  to  freedom.  you  get  accepted  into  one  in  texas,  and  you  plead  your  parents  to  let  you  go.  by  the  grace  of  god  (  how  ironic,  )  they  let  you  go.  you  major  in  english  literature,  because  books  might  as  well  be  the  only  thing  you  know,  and  soon  enough  you've  graduated.  you  settle  into  the  town  of  newton,  unaware  of  biker  culture  between  two  towns,  but  as  the  months  pass  by  it  calls  to  you.  will  curiosity  kill  the  cat?

༄　𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦.

suffering  from  #religiousguilt  but  trying  not  to  think  about  it.  it  creeps  into  her  mind  in  the  darker  hours  of  the  night,  though.  thoughts  that  haunt  her  like  ghosts  that  can  never  pass  on,  slowly  eating  at  her  like  maggots  on  rotting  meat.

camille  owns  a  gold  cross necklace  gifted  to  her  by  her  parents  on  her  twelfth  birthday.  she  wears  it  all  the  time,  and  refuses  to  take  it  off for reasons not even she can explain.

extremely  insecure  and  jealous  of  everyone  and  everything.  hates  that  she's  just  starting  life  when  most  people  her  age  have  lived  a  million  lifetimes  compared  to  her.  wants  so  badly  to  experience  but  is  stuck  observing  from  afar.

books  and  literature  are  her  one  true  love.  classics  are  her  favorite,  and  she  can  be  a  bit  pretentious  about  it.  camille  has  considered  becoming  a  writer  once,  but  she  doesn't  believe  she  has  the  skill  or  talent  to  be  a  good  one.

[wcstlcys]

Westley Thorn - Reapers - Enforcer

( PENN BADGLEY. THIRTY THREE. MALE. HE/HIM. ) in texas, WESTLEY THORN is known to most as WEST. they have been riding with the reapers for FIFTEEN YEARS. they’re originally from STRATFORD and the ENFORCER is known to be very CALLOUS & RECKLESS but the other club members will tell you they are INTREPID & DEVOTED as the years go by, they’ve gained a lot of respect in the club and around town. they’re usually at GOTTI AUTOBODY , working as a MECHANIC. they rarely ever drive a car but when they do I NEVER TOLD YOU WHAT I DID FOR A LIVING by MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE is usually heard blasting. ( A CRUEL AND CROOKED SMILE, BLOODIED KNUCKLES THAT NEVER HEAL, AN UNDYING LONELINESS. ) [ june. 28. gmt+2. she/her. ]

Tw for abandonment, mentions of violence, and a garbage mans

✘ Westley grew up raising himself, his parents far too focused on furthering their careers than raising their son. He wasn't planned, nor entierly wanted, but having children was the norm. He had no siblings or knew his extended family. The older West got, the less he'd see his parents. By the time he was old enough to cook for himself, they only showed face after dinner if he was lucky.

✘ West formed a sense of loneliness, something that never truly ever vanished. He didn't know what it was like to belong, to feel loved. He gravitated towards anything that would give him attention. He was lost, desperate for a sense of belogning.

✘ Westley was sixteen when he first saw the reapers, the way they rode together in a pack, sparked the first thing he ever wanted in life. Nothing else mattered, he wanted that patch on his back and the family that came with it. He barely passed high school, his only goal to join the club. He tried to befriend anyone he could and by the time he was eighteen, he was a hangaround.

✘ At twenty-one, West was finally able to prospect. His devotion was concerning at times, giving up anything and everything he had to simply belong. He did whatever was asked of him with little to no fuss, learning to fix up bikes and following every order given to him. By the time he was twenty three, he finally made it, he was a patched member. It was the first time he truly felt happy.

✘ His devotion did not falter once he was patched in, only growing stronger and stronger. Westley kiced, breathed, and bled as a reaper. His club was the only thing he cared about.

✘ Westley's loyalty is deadly, willing to put anything on the line for his club. He's been in fights, committed felonies, gone to jail and landed himself in the hospital all in the name of the reapers.

✘ Westley's commitment meant he was content with dying for the club, which is why he became an enforcer. His life was only ever meant to be a reaper, and his death would be the same. The protection of his members is his priority, especially those higher ranked than him.

✘ Ironically enough, despite his loyalty, West has commitment issues when it comes to his relationships. He doesn't trust anyone unless they have a reaper on their back. His relationships often fail, West is unable to ever fully commit himself. He can be toxic, emotionally unavailable, and distant. He sleeps around a lot in an attempt to fill the void.

✘ Overall, he's fun. He's reckless, down to throw himself into any fight. He's sarcastic, unable to take himself seriously outside of club business.

✘ Westley currently has a partner, but their relationship is very rocky. If you ask either of them, they're both single. They fool around with others at times as well. However, they cling to each other and are otherwise inseparable. It's complicated, and he isn't one to talk about it. ( cassiopeia johnson )

( BASICS )

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥  𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 - westley thorn

𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞  -�� west

𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦  - penn badgley

𝐚𝐠𝐞  - thirty three

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫  - male

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬  -   he / him / his

𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲  -    biromantic / bisexual

𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐧  - wrath

𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞  -    stratford

𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 -   mechanic at gotti’s autobody

affiliation  -   reapers

rank -   enforcer

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬  - loneliness, betrayal, abandonment, love.

𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐤𝐬  - gap in front teeth, fidgeting with rings when nervous, sarcastic humour, compulsive smoker, refuses to drive a car, permanently scarred knuckles

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭  - chaotic neutral

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬  -  devoted, intrepid, reckless, callous

𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬  -  a cruel and crooked smile, bloodied knuckles that never heal, and undying loneliness 

[2wheelz]

✱ ( benjamin bratt. cis man. he/him. fifty - two. ) in texas, 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐆𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐇𝐔𝐀́𝐍 is known to most as 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀. they have been riding with the diablos for thirty - one years. they're originally from newton and the sergeant at arms is known to be very arrogant & vindictive, but other club members will tell you they are diligent & passionate. as the years go by, they've gained a lot of respect in the club and around town. they rarely ever drive a car but when they do remedy by the black crowes is usually heard blasting. ( bruised knuckles — the roar of his engine as the gang rides out like a second heartbeat — years of history stitched into his leather jacket, the weight of tradition heavy on his shoulders, inked into his skin like a map of every scar and sacrifice — a lifetime of forgotten loyalty, resentment leaving a bitter taste on his tongue ).

✱ 𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘 ...

born in peru, raised in lima by a mother who loved fiercely but had little else to give. he was wild from the start, a boy with fire in his veins and fight in his fists. as puberty hit, the streets had started to call his name and his mother, fearful of what he might become under her gentle touch, made a choice that changed his life. at the age of twelve, he and his little sister were on a plane to a foreign land, texas, sent to live with a stranger, his father.

( ** tw: abuse ). his father was strict, hard in ways that left scars beneath the skin. a forgotten 'sir' or missed sunday service earned a beating. god was always watching from the crosses nailed into every wall as his father spoke of sins and salvation, of a world with no place for soft hearted boys. though it wasn't the blows that stung the most — it was the favoritism. his sister; the golden child, daddy's little princess, treated like a delicate thing to be protected whilst diego was trained to be a soldier. taught that boys didn't cry, men provided, and emotion was a weakness best buried.

by seventeen, the streets had called his name once again. he ran away, carrying nothing but his mother's name and the weight of expectation on his back. he learned to survive, to fight, to hustle, and then he found the diablos. or maybe they found him. they gave him something his father never did: a place to belong. his father's house was never his home, and neither was texas until he earned that patch on the back of his leather jacket.

he started at the bottom. a prospect with something to prove, pushing through every test, every hazing ritual, every bloodied knuckle initiation the gang threw at him. loyalty burned in his chest, and ambition even hotter. the diablos rewarded men who bled for them, and diego bled plenty. he climbed the ranks the only way he knew how — with fists, fire and hunger. prison slowed him down, but never stopped him. a few years behind bars for the kind of charges that came with the life he chose — assault, possession, a job gone sideways — but a diablo never snitched, so he took his time on the chin and came out even hungrier than before. the gang was still his when he got out, waiting for him like an old lover, and so he picked up right where he left off.

but five years ago, everything changed. a new president was crowned, and it wasn't him. instead, they gave him sergeant at arms. third in command. the bronze medal. a pat on the back for decades of loyalty, but not the throne he'd been chasing since he was seventeen. the gang knew he was erratic. said he was too impulsive, too prone to outburst, too hot - headed to lead. he swallowed the decision, a traditional man that has always respected his leaders, but the bitter taste of resentment hasn't left his tongue since. will he start questioning his life - long loyalty to the diablos ?

✱ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ...

his biker nickname, killa, comes from the quechua meaning for moon, a nickname his mother used to call him, but most of his gang believe it to mean he's a cold blooded killer, which he doesn't correct.

carries cash, never cards. he doesn't trust banks and certainly not paper trails. always has a wad of cash in his pocket, folded tight with a sentimental money clip.

fixes his own bike. he doesn't let anyone else touch it. spends hours in the garage, fixing her up, hands stained with grease, listening to country rock or music that reminds him of home, like rancheras or spanish ballads.

drives a pick up truck. keeps his bike in pristine condition, but his truck is a mess - empty beer bottles, old maps, and spare bullets scattered inside.

never complains about pain. could literally be bleeding out and he'd say " i'm fine, it's just a scratch. "

has a leather jacket collection. but his oldest one - the one covered in patches, scars and history - is his favorite.

can't sleep without background noise. too many years on the road.

he's quite the artist. he loves creating charcoal pieces.

never says 'i love you', but his actions will always show it - fixing a bike, paying a debt, standing between someone and a bullet.

✱ 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ...

wife ... wc on the main.

nephew ... wc on the main.

turned head? / enemies to lovers ... ( open to f/nb, must be a reaper, 37+ ) diego has always been a one woman kinda man. okay, not always, but the vows he made to his wife set him straight. however, their marriage is slowly falling apart, and somehow y/m has slipped through the cracks. nothing has physically happened... yet... but it may as well have with the kinda thoughts he has about them. bonus points if they're a reaper and it's an enemies / underlying attraction kinda vibe hehe???

like a sister ... ( open to f/nb, must be a civilian or diablo ) diego lost his younger sister a few years back during a dodgy dealing and blames himself. y/m reminds him of her n he just wants to protect her ( and clings onto her bc subconsciously he's not ready to let go ) </3

enemies ... ( open to any gender ) trust me he has plentyyyyy, from reapers to law enforcement to civilians alike, he's a troublemaker. we could even have some diablo haters as he's known in the gang for making impulsive decisions that aren't always agreed with. we can plot the details!!!

fellow diablos ... ( open to any gender, must be a diablo ) maybe they're scared of him, maybe he's taken them under his wing, maybe they want him out of his position due to his explosive nature, maybe they're on his side and want him as president, maybe they're connected to the og members and we can do something there bc diego grew up with them, etcetc. we can plot it out!!!

ride or die ... ( open to any gender, must be a diablo, 45+ ) he needs a friend </3 he doesn't open up easy, he's v much "i am man i make fire i provide" but y/m is as close as he's gotten, bar his wife. they're partners in crime, grew up in the gang together, etcetc.

more tba!

[openseascn]

in texas, 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐈 ( 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄. 𝐒𝐇𝐄/𝐇𝐄𝐑. ) is more commonly known as 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐈 ( 𝑺𝑨𝑯-𝑴𝑬𝑬 ). they’ve been living in newton for 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 and currently 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋’𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐄. some say they are 𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 & 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 but i’m more inclined to believe those that say they’re 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅-𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 & 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃. if you walk by their house, you can sometimes hear 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒 by 𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐆𝐀$𝐏 playing from their window.

❝ a crushed pack of Marlboros in her back pocket and a switchblade in her boot, the creak of weathered porch boards, citrus candles burned to the bottom of the jar, borrowed t-shirts, resting bitch face, wounds of betrayal that never heal. ❞

────── 𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲 › 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 › 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 › 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ──────

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬.

birthday: april 6th, 1992

zodiac sign: aries sun, tbd moon, tbd rising

ethnicity: turkish

faceclaim: devrim ozkan

sexual orientation: pansexual, panromantic

relationship status: it's complicated? with august eversen; 4-5 months

positive traits: energetic, courageous, direct, compassionate, fiercely loyal, dependable, gregarious, bold, confident, resilient, steadfast, open minded, unfussy

nagative traits: impulsive, impatient, attention seeking, volatile emotions, bullheaded, prone to aggression, doesn't trust easily, vengeful, petty, holds grudges easily and without limit / expiration, nostalgic

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬.

mother: neslihan burakgazi, nee aksoy; deceased.

father: sarp burakgazi; deceased.

paternal uncle / adoptive father: yusef burakgazi

aunt / adoptive mother: elif burakgazi, nee tbd.

cousins / adoptive brothers: tbd burakgazi (wanted connections)

other: n/a

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲.

TW: parental death / hit and run, drugs, incarceration

sami is second generation turkish american and third generation 'diablos' by blood and birthright. the burakgazi family, starting with her paternal grandparents, moved to newton in the 70's and her grandfather patched up as the club was putting its first bikes on the pavement. her father and uncle followed in those footsteps as soon as they were old enough to patch.

ironically enough, it wasn't the lifestyle that led to the death of her parents but a hit and run while umut and neslihan were on their way home. sami was only four at the time and immediately went to live with her uncle, yusef, and his family. a few years after that they made things more official than mere guardianship and adopted her outright.

while sami had no qualms or judgements as far as the diablos went and grew up right alongside her cousins running the streets outside of their clubhouse, she never saw herself being part of it in an serious capacity—or sticking around in newton at all. she wanted to get out into the world and had big plans for her future before it all went south.

one relatively normal night, when she was 23, the cops arrived at sami's door with a search warrant. and then, when they found exactly what they were looking for, that warrant turned into one for an arrest. with her name on it. without her knowledge, her cousin made the rash decision to temporarily store some of the clubs drugs on her property and somehow the cops found out.

aside from her name being on the deed to the land where everything was confiscated, all they had was circumstantial evidence tying sami to the crime, but her known association with the club was damning enough. she was offered a deal—give up intel the club or go away for however long the judge could be persuaded to decide.

even though it meant the destruction of her dreams Sami refused to comply and ended up charged with a first degree felony for possession with intent to distribute. texas being texas, a state that shows no mercy for such crimes, she ended up ultimately serving seven years in exchange for her loyalty and silence.

she's been out and back in newton for a little over a year now, all prior prospects for that shiny future gone. rather than leaving town and making something of herself, like she always planned, she's bartending at hell's gate just to get by.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬.

is The Most™ petty and vindictive bitch you will probably ever meet. if you piss sami off she will seduce ur mom, fuck ur dad, ghost ur sister, break ur brother's heart— basically, in the words of beth dutton, "chop down your whole family tree" all over something as little as eating the last spoonful of ice cream.

is quite adverse to wearing pants at home so show up uninvited at ur own risk (or reward? idk i don't make the rules i just live here).

her entire TikTok algorithm is masked men, lesbian thirst traps, scary stories, and funny cats. the end.

even though sami technically still owns her parents house she hasn't lived there or really even gone to take care of it since the night of her arrest; she's thought about fixing it up and renting it out about as much as she's thought about burning the whole damn place to the ground.

whether it's a baseball bat by the door or a blade in her boot she's never not armed. it's a habit partly born from growing up as a 'product of' the diablos, but mostly due to lessons learned in jail.

she has by far the biggest sweet tooth known to man and could easily be convinced to commit ungodly acts if you promise to put treats in her mouth. while ice cream is hands down her favorite go-to sugar fix she doesn't discriminate. also stress / sad bakes and will force you to help her eat the consequences of that habit.

every day is a good day for a dance off, and she's likely to serenade you with raunchy, incorrect lyrics to otherwise wholesome christmas songs. and no, as a non-practicing muslim, she doesn't even really celebrate christmas beyond buying gifts for her friends that do but that's not the point, is it?

is the embodiment of "the only good thing about people is their pets"

likely drinks her body weight in sprite on a daily basis

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬.

aside from all of the basics like childhood neighbors, childhood friends, current neighbors, new friends, co-workers at the bar, connections through the diablos, etc. I'd love to find───

her older cousin / adoptive brother (would require a new character): they were always extremely close growing up even if they fought a bit like cats and dogs. he was sami's best friend and the person she turned to first—always—whenever something was wrong. their relationship has been extremely strained every since he let sami go down for the decisions he made*. deep down she still loves him, but she doesn't fucking trust him and that loss of trust probably hurts more than anything else. ( * there could absolutely be more to the story here on his end! )

her other cousin / adoptive brother (would require a new character): whether they're older or younger than sami is UTP. if their older brother was who she found safety and stability in growing up, this character is who always helped her find trouble. they were—and still kind of are—like two peas in a very chaotic pod. whether or not they knew the drugs were hidden on her property is UTP, but I do imagine in the aftermath they, at least seemingly, took their brother / the clubs side. it wouldn't have wrecked their relationship but it would awkwardly put them in the middle now.

her ex (m/f/nb 31+): this would either be someone associated with the diablos or outside of the clubs altogether. they and sami were dating (however casually or seriously) when she got arrested and went to jail. maybe they ghosted her after the fact, maybe they tried to keep it together but she cut them off. whichever is the case it ended pretty soon after she was sentenced.

whoever tipped off law enforcement all those years ago: this would either be someone associated with the reapers, a diablos traitor, or someone outside of the clubs altogether. how they found out about the drugs moved onto sami's property and why they cared is up for discussion, but the rest is pretty self-explanatory. whether to hit the diablos, to go after sami / her family directly, or for some other random reason they were ultimately the one responsible for her going to jail.

[ofsvcrifices]

in texas, NADIA YOUNG ( THIRTY NINE. FEMALE. SHE/HER. ) is known to most as NADIA OR NAY. they have been riding with the reapers for NINETEEN YEARS. they’re originally from STRATFORD, TX and the NEGOTIATOR is known to be very MANIPULATIVE & VAIN but the other club members will tell you they are LOYAL & CHARMING. as the years go by, they’ve gained a lot of respect in the club and around town. they’re usually at DIAMOND INK, working as a PIERCER. they rarely ever drive a car but when they do DIFFERENT PEOPLE by JESSIA is usually heard blasting. ( dark red lipstick staining the sides of coffee mugs, abandoned crossword puzzles on the coffee table, forgotten produce in the fridge, the subtle smell of strawberries, lost chapstick containers that had only been used once)

───────────── google doc ○ pinterest ○ inspo ──────────────

ABOUT

Full Name: nadia amira young

Nickname: call her naynay at your own risk, nay will only get you a small glare and the cold shoulder, older club members (who have been around while her dad and uncle were) might call her spitfire

Age/DOB: october 26, 1985 (39)

Zodiac Sign: scorpio

Gender: cis female

Place of Birth: stratford, tx

Current Residence: stratford, tx

Education: high school graduate, member of the association of professional piercers

Sexual/Romantic Orientations: bisexual / biromantic

Relationship Status: single (and heartbroken but we don’t need to talk about that)

Religion: she’d call herself ‘spiritual’ at best, but she’s never set foot in a church on her own volition (always for a funeral or wedding, etc.) and only really talks to ‘god or buddha or anyone who rules the universe’ while she’s in the shower

Club Affiliation & Role: negotiator for the reapers (been patched since she was 20)

Occupation: piercer at diamond ink, former dancer at deseo

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & PERSONALITY

Hair / Eye Color: brunette / brown

Height / Build: 5’2” / athletic build

Tattoos: reaper skull on her forearm, some kind of chest piece beneath her breasts, a snake surrounded by billowing smoke as a lil nod to her uncle & dad on her outer right thigh, 'young' in script on the back of her neck, a snapdragon along her left side for her mother, the rest tbd

Piercings: both ears pierced multiple times, a removed tongue piercing, belly button, both nipples, and she had her clitoral hood pierced for a few years but took it out and it healed over

Scars: one on the back of her neck from a rogue firework incident when she was a teenager, a few various ones on her legs from various falls (and one from the kickstand on her dad’s bike when she was learning to ride), a three-ish inch long scar on her hip from when she had her appendix removed

Positive Traits: loyal, charming, sincere, romantic, brave, passionate, humorous-ish

Negative Traits: vain, manipulative, melodramatic, jealous, possessive, secretive, vengeful

Likes & Dislikes: the combination of leather and lace, red lipstick stains on the edges of ceramic coffee mugs, cinnamon toast crunch dust sprinkled on popcorn, the smell of a bonfire left on your clothes, the roar a bike engine makes when you start it up (and how multiple bikes create a symphony of sound together), music turned up at near full volume, toasted pb&js at midnight, an ice cold beer on a hot summer day // dishonesty, nails tapping on any surface, room temperature drinks, losing her sunglasses, sleeping alone, complete silence, people who flip flop on their loyalties/decisions, being the first to show up at an event/party, the smell of gunpowder, anyone asking questions she deems ‘too personal’, how chicken in to-go pasta from restaurants is never cut up in bite sized pieces, dasani water, the smell of cigars

FAMILY

Father: keith ‘smokey’ young (67)

Mother: rosa young nee aguilar (64)

Sibling(s): none

Other Family: neil ‘snake’ young (uncle, deceased); zavian young (cousin)

Pets: she doesn’t have any official pets, but she feeds a couple stray cats that hang around the clubhouse

BIOGRAPHY

Born in the parking lot of Stratford County Hospital because her mom waited too long to leave the Halloween party she and her father were at (to this day Zahra continues to say she’s ‘sure she had more time’), Nadia’s emergence into the world wasn’t in a sterile hospital room but the back seat of her mom’s 1980 Ford Pinto. Ever since then, her life continued down the unorthodox path it began on. 

Growing up, Nadia spent more time at The Reapers’ clubhouse than she did any daycare or pre-school. Her early education was… you guessed it, unconventional. She learned her alphabet from the letters on the kuttes and bikes and signs around the clubhouse, her first words may have been dada and mama but her vocabulary was more… colorful, as she got older, than most other kids. And while her father and uncle enjoyed their little spitfire’s love for the family that had been created, neither of them pushed for her to join the club or learn to ride. She made those decisions all on her own.

While her mom had spent years trying to get used to riding on the back of a motorcycle, Nadia took to bikes like a fish would to water. She was sitting on any bike she could get her small frame up on, and despite being unable to to even reach the footpegs and shifter she was begging anyone who would listen (incessantly, some might say) to teach her how to ride. But her love of bikes wasn’t the only adrenaline inducing hobby she fell in love with. In truth, Nadia was dubbed ‘Little Kneivel’ by her father because of her propensity to enjoy things that could and did get her hurt. Dirt bike racing, demolition derby, climbing the highest tree to jump down onto unsuspecting members (testing to see if they’d catch her)... you name it, she did it. And was a bit of a menace at the same time. 

Luckily, with age and maturity, Nadia grew out of most of her daredevil ways. Sure, she waited until she was old enough to go skydiving and bungee jumping, has even done base jumping once in her early 20s, but for the most part she’s mellowed. She made it through high school without getting expelled (though she was threatened with expulsion once or twice for some innocent pranks the principal wasn’t too fond of… and a couple of fights… and truancy), her GPA nothing to brag about the diploma still hanging proudly on the wall of her parents’ living room next to her senior photo. 

Upon graduation, Nadia found herself a bit adrift. She’d always planned to throw herself into The Reapers as soon as she graduated but something held her back. It was the only time in her life (so far, at least) that she’s chosen something, chosen herself, over the club. She spent the year after graduation traveling around the country on her bike. Sleeping wherever she could afford and seeing everything she could possibly think she’d want to see, Nadia made sure that she had no regrets before returning to Texas, excited and ready to live the life she felt she was born for.

Becoming a prospect for The Reapers was truly a dream come true for Nadia. It felt like she was finally living the life she was born to live, fulfilling some kind of prewritten destiny, and she couldn’t have been happier. However, her loyalty to the club life was quickly tested. Shortly after becoming a patched member she found herself in the midst of a shootout between The Reapers and The Diablos. A shootout where her favorite uncle lost his life and the young 20 year old ended up with blood on her own hands. It was after this catastrophic event that Nadia decided she’d not only made the right decision in dedicating her life to the club but that she wanted to work her way into one of the vacant negotiator roles. She may have been a reformed adrenaline junkie and a Reaper through and through, but she found peace to be something she craved rather than violence. Though it was part of the life, she’d rather do everything she could to prevent a loss like Snake’s from happening again.

Just like her goal to become a Reaper came to fruition, her ambition took her from member, to tail gunner, to (finally) negotiator for the club. A role she’s kept and enjoyed for years without any plans to change.

HEADCANONS

When her dad and uncle realized she wasn’t gonna grow any taller than her measly 5’2, they both took it upon themselves to teach her how to defend herself. The world she was in was cutthroat and dangerous, and her size was a disadvantage. So they taught her to fight and shoot. They taught her to use her size to her advantage because she will always be underestimated. She did her best, but unfortunately her hand to hand skills aren’t exactly stellar, but her shooting? She can hit a moving target while operating a moving back with alarming accuracy. Because of this, she’s usually got a Glock tucked into the back of her jeans. You know… just in case she needs it.

She’s also always got a five inch switchblade on her that her dad gifted her when she was patched in. It’s usually tucked into her bra (because girls pants don’t have decent pockets and that’s a crime in and of itself). 

After coming home from her travels, Nadia realized that living the broke life wasn’t really for her. She wasn’t exactly bougie, per se, but she’d rather avoid eating ramen and bologna sandwiches for every meal. So she got herself a job as a dancer at Deseo (known as Ember) and quickly garnered herself a loyal client base. She worked there for ten years, often taking new dancers beneath her wing and showing them the ropes. Something she still does if asked.

She actually met the man who she apprenticed under to become a piercer while working at Deseo. He wanted to move out of Texas to be closer to family but didn’t want to leave the shop without someone he trusted. So Nadia, on a whim, decided that amongst her Reaper duties and her dancing, she’d apprentice, unpaid, during the day at Diamond Ink. It took her six months to love the job, two years to gain her mentor’s complete trust, and another four months to become the Diamond’s main piercer. 

Nadia’s entire life, really, revolves around the club. She’s completely loyal to them, the Reapers are in her blood, but… she met Emre, the president for the Diablos, while carrying out her normal, negotiator duties. But there was something about him, maybe a spark or something, that she couldn’t shake. She hadn’t meant to fall in love with him. She hadn’t meant for hidden glances, stolen touches, and secret rendezvous to overtake her life. But it’d all been worth it to spend time with a man who quickly and easily captured her heart despite his affiliation and position of power. They were together for five years before it all came crashing down around her. He asked her to choose. Him or the club. He even offered her solace within the ranks of the Diablos. And for a second she thought about taking it, but it wasn’t realistic. Even if she was the type of person to leave one club for the other, to switch sides, she couldn’t. Her uncle was a founding member, they’d never allow it. It wasn’t an easy decision, per se, but it was quick. She wouldn’t leave The Reapers. So Emre left her with a broken heart and doubts that have begun to eat at her.

Nothing about Nadia’s lifestyle lends to luxury or wealth, but she saved up enough money during her time at Deseo and from living with roommates to buy herself a small two bedroom ranch. It’s nothing special and a little run down, but it has a garage to keep her bike in and the best water pressure she’s ever experienced, so she loves it. 

While she’s not a bad cook per se, Nadia’s fridge is often full of rotting produce because she prefers the ease of picking something up on the way home or ordering in. She has a bit of a Gilmore Girls mentality when ordering food, too. She’ll order way too much and eat off of the leftovers for the week while the wilting lettuce and molding berries are looking at her like ‘bitch, really??’ every time she opens the fridge.

Just doesn’t like tacos. It’s weird, it’s dumb, and she’ll happily eat a burrito. But a taco? Nah. Don’t ask her out for Taco Tuesdays because she’ll order nachos and ruin the whole thing.

[ofareios]

in  texas,  MIKHAIL  RHODES  is  known  to  most  as  ARES.  they  have  been  riding  with  the  diablos  for  TEN  YEARS.  they’re  originally  from  NEWTON  and  the  SOLDIER  is  known  to  be  very  CUNNING  &  FIERY  but  the  other  club  members  will  tell  you  they  are  VALIANT  &  AFFABLE.  as  the  years  go  by,  they’ve  gained  a  lot  of  respect  in  the  club  and  around  town.  they’re  usually  at  THE  QUAD,  working  as  a  PERSONAL  TRAINER.  they  rarely  ever  drive  a  car  but  when  they  do  SMELLS  LIKE  TEEN  SPIRIT  by  NIRVANA  is  usually  heard  blasting.

BASICS.

name  :  mikhail  ivan  rhodes

alias  :  ares

age  :  twenty-eight

dob  :  december  19 

gender  &  pronouns  :  cis  man  &  he  /  him 

orientation :  bisexual

occupation  :  solider  for  the  diablos  &  personal  trainer  at  the  quad

HISTORY.

hometown  :  newton,  texas

ethnicity  :  moroccan  &  white

relatives  :  travis  ‘zeus’  rhodes  (  father  ),  lina  rhodes  (  mother  ),  tba

education  :  high  school  graduate  from  newton  high

APPEARANCE.

height  :  185  cm

build  :  muscular,  lean

hair  :  silver

eyes  :  grey

scars  :  jagged  line  on  the  bottom  left  corner  of  his  mouth  (  from  a  fight  with  zavian  young  when  they  were  teenagers  ),  burn  mark  on  his  right  arm  (  from  his  father's  accident  when  he  was  ten  years  old  )

tattoos  :  devil  (  on  the  back  of  his  hand  ), lucky number 777 ( ribs )

piercings  :  ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓

accessories : an obsidian stone ring with a band made of pure gold ( gifted  to  him  by  his  father.  engraved  on  the  inside  :  dulce  periculum.  sweet  danger.  to  the  common  eye,  it  is  an  ordinary  ring.  to  mikhail,  it’s  his  preferred  weapon  of  choice.  it’s  not  a  beloved  possession,  but  he  feels  as  if  it’s  haunting  him.  like  something  unfortunate  will  happen  if  he  doesn’t  give  it  the  attention  it  deserves.  so  he  pried  it  open  and  inserted  thin  razor  blades  inside  the  band.  they’re  concealed,  but  when  he  twists  the  stone  counterclockwise  four  times,  the  blades  slide  out  neatly.  when  his  fist  connects  with  a  jaw,  the  sound  of  skin  slicing  and  bones  breaking  reminds  him  that  he  was  made  for  this  life )

faceclaim  :  emilio  sakraya

BIO.

mikhail  rhodes  wasn’t  supposed  to  exist.  travis  ‘zeus’  rhodes,  founding  president  of  the  diablos,  never  planned  for  fatherhood,  never  expected  to  raise  a  son  in  the  middle  of  his  empire.  but  really,  he  needed  mikhail  with  him.  nicknamed  ‘ares’,  the  boy  grew  up  to  the  growl  of  motorcycles,  the  clatter  of  casino  slot  machines,  and  the  blood-stained  floors  of  underground  fight  clubs.  the  diablos  were  his  uncles,  his  aunts,  his  brothers  &  sisters.  he  belonged  to  them  before  before  he  even  understood  what  that  meant.  he  never  had  a  childhood,  just  a  training  ground  promising  freedom  at  the  cost  of  blood.

his  father’s  accident  wasn’t  bad  luck.  it  was  fate,  or  something  close  to  it.  mikhail  had  no  business  trailing  zeus  that  day,  a  ten-year-old  boy  caught  in  the  crossfire.  his  father  would  never  ride  again  and  his  reign  as  president  was  over.  mikhail  made  it  out,  and  that  was  enough  to  make  his  father  obsessed.  his  son  had  survived  for  a  reason.  he  was  meant  for  something  bigger.  his  mother,  lina,  saw  it  differently  —  smothering  him  with  love  like  she  could  keep  him  from  slipping  away.  mikhail  let  her  adore  him,  let  her  pour  every  ounce  of  fear  and  devotion  into  him.  but  mikhail  was  never  meant  to  be  held.  he  was  meant  to  fight.  meant  to  survive.

by  his  teens,  the  fight  clubs  weren’t  just  entertainment.  they  were  a  calling.  the  rhythm  of  fists  meeting  flesh,  the  calculated  elegance  of  a  well-timed  dodge,  the  intoxicating  crack  of  a  perfect  hit.  it  was  addictive.  schoolyard  fights  turned  into  suspensions,  turned  into  warnings  from  diablos  higher-ups  to  quit  acting  out.  but  mikhail  didn’t  care.  every  bruise,  every  split  lip,  every  bone-deep  ache  was  a  badge  of  honor.  violence  wasn’t  just  in  his  blood,  it  was  his  heartbeat.  his  first  language.  the  only  thing  that  ever  made  sense.

boxing  could’ve  been  his  way  out.  he  was  good,  too  good,  dead-set  on  going  pro.  but  zeus  wasn’t  having  it.  walk  away  from  the  diablos  ?  from  the  life  he’d  been  raised  in  ?  unthinkable.  the  choice  wasn’t  really  a  choice;  either  he  swore  loyalty  to  the  mc,  or  he  was  nothing.  his  mother  begged  him  to  stay.  so,  for  her,  he  did.  got  the  devil  inked  into  his  skin  the  same  day.  a  soldier.  his  dreams,  forgotten  underneath  the  weight  of  his  father’s  ultimatum,  were  ignored.

ten  years  later,  the  bitterness  still  lingers.  he’s  loyal  to  the  members,  of  course.  but  does  he  feel  the  pride  his  father  did  ?  does  he  want  to  continue  the  legacy  ?  you’d  think  so.  but  really,  he’s  just  a  guy  who  wanted  to  make  his  parents  happy.  even  if  it  means  being  a  puppet.  even  if  he’s  a  ticking  time  bomb.  at  least  he  can  shake  it  off  with  his  fists.  at  least  the  pain  is  real.

[erraticismshq]

( YANDEH SALLAH. TWENTY EIGHT. CIS FEMALE. SHE/HER. ) in texas, CASSIOPEIA JOHNSON is known to most as CASSIE. they have been riding with the reapers for TWO YEARS. they’re originally from SEATTLE and the HANGAROUND is known to be very ERRATIC & CARELESS but the other club members will tell you they are LIVELY & INTELLIGENT. as the years go by, they’ve gained a lot of respect in the club and around town. they’re usually at THE FORGE, working as a BARTENDER/TABLE RUNNER. they rarely ever drive a car but when they do HABITS by TOVE LO is usually heard blasting. ( empty pill bottles scattered across the floor, hazy thoughts and messed up words, shorts and laddered tights paired with worn out vans, paint stained hands, bright computer screens illuminating a room at 2am, puffs of smoke obscuring her face. ) 

tw for mentions death, car crash, domestic abuse and drug use!

backstory !!

✦ cassiopeia johnson was born to lynn and gerald johnson on february 7th three minutes behind her older brother cepheus. they were named after stars (and not the husband and wife duo from mythology) because gerald worked for nasa.

✦ cassie and ceph had an incredibly loving and happy childhood. they wanted for very little and often took trips out hiking and camping in national parks to be under the stars. cassie and ceph were very close. they were best friends.

✦ tragedy struck when the twins were 17 and their parents died in a car crash. cassie always blamed herself as they were on their way to pick her up after an art class. 

✦ this was the beginning point for cassie’s spiral. she met her first boyfriend around about this time, but he was from a bad crowd. cassie was grieving and wanted to not feel. he brought her into a world of drugs to help her forget. 

✦ she was stuck in a cycle and a toxic relationship for about three years. in this time it caused a big rift between her and ceph. he was concerned for her future, mental well being and physical health, as her boyfriend had begun to physically and mentally abuse her.

✦ while cassie finished high school, she flunked her opportunity to go to college. ceph was disappointed in her about this as she was the brains of the family. it took their grandmother left dying for cassie to change her ways and realise how important family was to her, since their was only her and her brother left.

✦ she got cleaned and got rid of her boyfriend. she applied to college again and her and ceph moved there together. they had a decent amount of money to fall back on since ceph wasn’t using his college fund.

✦ cassie was incredibly smart and studied computer science. she had a knack for hacking, but at this point in her life didn’t really use it for any illegal means or gain.

✦ finally when cassie was 24 she graduated with a degree, while ceph had made his way up to a manager of a business. life seemed to be going well for them both. but then cassie fell back into her old ways of recreational drug use.

✦ recreational drug use turned into daily drug use. it was this time she ended up back in contact with her ex. she tried to hide all of this from her brother at first until they were on a trip with their friends and he found her stash. she promised she would change and pretend to throw them away.

✦ but she still had some left. and when it was her time to drive, she did so high. she though she would be okay, the road quiet and it was night. but her reactions weren’t as quick as she though they were.

✦ cassie was the only survivor of the crash. her brother and two friends as well as her current girlfriend all died because of her actions. frightened and stressed, cassie ended up calling her ex to help cover up that she was actually the driver so she wouldn't go to jail. she’s not set foot inside a car again.

✦ ever since that event cassie, she ended up stuck with her ex since he held her 'secret' over her. this lasted a year or two until one day they ended up in stratford.

✦ it was here she met reaper westley thorn. he broke her out of her toxic relationship and she's been hanging around the reapers ever since. the two are currently romantically involved, though both will deny they're actually dating - despite acting like a married couple. it's complicated.

personality !! 

✦ cassie has always been a little on the weird side. head up in the clouds. she’s always lived in her own little fantasy and not wanted to acknowledge reality and the world around her.

✦ this has only been enhanced by her drug use. she’s frankly a little weird. sometimes laughs to herself, constantly doesn’t pay attention to conversations and often ends up saying random things or zoning out.

✦ very adventurous. always up for some stupid shit at 2am and other kinds of fun. she's friendly and talks to anyone, even if they're a diablo (despite having the crossbones tattoo)

✦ but she does have her burn out days. days where she’s not high. they’re awful and she’s incredibly closed off on them. refuses to speak, to come out of her room. sad girl hours

✦ but she's actually incredibly smart. is a talented hacker and can get into most things. hospital records, police files, confidential lawyer documents etc.

✦ she's also quite the talented artist, mostly favouring drawings and paintings. constantly has paint stained clothes and hands. particularly loves designing tattoos despite never getting her own designs.