# data[].attributes.body
Name: Jabami Reika

DOB: November 09, 1996 (28)

Nicknames: Rei

Zodiac: Scorpio

Former Occupation: Only daughter of the Jabami Corporation, Artist

Current Occupation: Cashier at Sweet Tooth, Front Desk at Sunny Day Vet, import model

Education: Tokyo University of Arts (BFA,MFA)

Sexuality: Bisexual

Relationship Status: actually complicated | single

TW: this character indulges in drugs, alchohol and toxic/unhealthy spiraling behavior. You've been warned!

# data[].attributes.body
Father: Jabami Reito

A shrewd businessman with a well-known soft spot for his only daughter, he had always supported her every endeavor, even when it meant allowing her to stray from the family’s legacy. But Reika’s recent scandals, now dragged into the public eye, have left him with no choice but to end his indulgence. With a voice edged in disappointment, he cut her off from the family’s wealth, vowing not to reinstate her privileges until she takes responsibility for her actions and admits she was wrong.

Mother: Jabami Akari

Renowned Socialite and Chairwoman and Chief Art Curator of the Cultural Art Committee of Japan. Unlike her husband, she is far more critical of Reika, of the friends she keeps and the company she surrounds herself with. She wishes her daughter would conduct herself more traditionally, yet believes her husband’s years of indulgence may have already made it too late to steer the young woman back onto the right path.

Eldest Brother: Jabami Reiji

Heir of the Jabami Co. He shares their mother’s belief that their father has been far too lenient with Reika. Inwardly, he resents the freedom she enjoys, knowing he was the one forced to shoulder the weight of the Jabami lineage. Yet he has never allowed that resentment to show. Instead, he supported her at every exhibition and even orchestrated the quiet removal of her art scandal articles from the internet.

Older brother: Jabami Reizou

The "spare". He has been outspoken in his support for Reika, even going so far as to offer her a position back in the corporation should she ever decide to abandon art for good. Still, he believes she is too stubborn for her own good, convinced she cannot make it on her own without the influence of the Jabami name.

# data[].attributes.body
Hair is either short or shoulder length. Depending on the season. Rarely grows it as she associates long hair to her past and naivety

Curvy mesomorph, 5'4 in stature

Dark brown eyes.

Notable scars/birth marks:

no notable scars at present

one mole under her left eye, on her left shoulder and chest.

# data[].attributes.body
Her voice can cut through a room, clear and commanding when she wills it, honeyed and sweet when the moment calls. Perhaps that’s why she so often gets what she wants. Media-trained from a young age, she perfected the role of the poised, picture-perfect daughter of a conglomerate, only to shed the mold at eighteen and begin carving out a style and identity entirely her own.

It was this individuality, paired with a fearless audacity in a world where most of her peers were confined to quiet decorum, that truly set her apart.

When she enters a room, she doesn’t simply arrive; she commands attention.

Conversations spark around her, whether it’s the designer piece she’s effortlessly toting or the subtle influence she wields as a trendsetter even among heiresses. It’s precisely this magnetism that makes keeping a “low profile” nearly impossible.

# data[].attributes.body
MBTI: ISTP (virtuoso)

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Enneagram type: 1,4 and 6

Likes: golden hour, the different hues of the sky during dusk and dawn, Visiting and discovering small galleries, Reading art theory at midnight while classical music plays in the background, Old and worn sketchbooks (the recycled paper kind), Easy and loose fitted clothing as of late, Classical music

Dislikes: Performative philantrophy (she's seen it one too many times, used by new money people to climb their way up to society), media exposure, Using her family name because of their influence, Failed plans, Being too early for functions, Cheap perfume, Pretentious art snobs, Classical music

Habits:

Glancing at her nails when contemplating, picking on her fingers as well, often leading to small cuts when nervous.

Sleeping at ungodly hours and waking up late. It's been hard to correct this habit so she's often late for her part time jobs, earning her several warnings.

Has difficulty sitting still when not busy with her hands, often prefers to stand in informal settings like social gatherings.

Wearing expensive clothing until it’s frayed – not out of necessity, but emotional attachment.

Using expensive perfumes to scent her canvas or studio. Reika thinks it adds a personal touch to the space and art she creates.

Cuts her own bangs. She's been doing it for as long as she could remember.

# data[].attributes.body
"Come on, darling. Let's adore one another before there is no more you and me."

Name: Eris Park

# data[].attributes.body
Personality:

On the surface, she could pass for the textbook spoiled heiress. In reality, she’s anything but. As the only daughter of the Jabami Corporation, Reika knows exactly how much her last name can open doors—and she refuses to walk through any she didn’t unlock herself. Every achievement, every venture, every risk has been hers alone. It makes her driven. It makes her stubborn.

Reika doesn’t waste time on coy games. If she wants something, she takes it. If the direct route fails, she’s more than willing to play the long game until it’s hers. She’s magnetic without being aloof, her confidence drawing people in like moths to flame.

She smiles easily, flirts shamelessly, and laughs like the world is hers.

But her warmth comes with sharp edges. Betray her once, and she’ll never let it go. Reika’s grudges are legendary, and her loyalty to the few she calls friends is unshakable. Fierce enough to burn anyone who dares threaten them.

# data[].attributes.body
Reika wears a lot of Celine and Dior in varying hues depending on her mood.

Slip dresses layered under cardigans or over sheer blouses, both sensual and nonchalant.

High-waisted tailored trousers paired with oversized shirts or backless tops.

Her makeup is minimal or smudged like she forgot she was wearing it and wiped her eye.

Perfume is something woodsy, musky, or with hints of amber and fig. Warm, intimate, and not overly floral.

Signature scents: Diptyque: Philosykos (Eau de Parfum), Le Labo – Another 13

# data[].attributes.body
↳ As old money as old money could be, Jabami Reika was born into one of Japan’s most prominent families—wealth built over centuries through shipping and commerce. Though the Jabami dynasty followed strict tradition, Reika, the only daughter of the corporation, was granted more freedom than her brothers, who were expected to carry the family legacy on their shoulders.

Reika understood the privilege that came with this rare leniency, and she was determined to carve out something of her own. With striking looks and the weight of her family name behind her, she experimented with modeling, tried her hand at becoming a socialite, and flitted through the glamorous circuits of high society. But it wasn’t until a university gig of posing for a painting class that she discovered where her true passion lay.

Curiosity turned to fascination, and fascination grew into obsession.

She knew she was starting late. Her journey toward becoming a skilled and respected artist would be long and grueling. So she made the choice to leave business school and enroll in fine arts, quietly cutting back on her social life and keeping only a few trusted friends close. Most people only wanted proximity to her name, not to her.

But in time, Reika began to shine. She never clung to a single style, instead infusing each piece with elements she admired and techniques she refined. Her early exhibits were small and deeply personal, attended only by those who mattered to her. Yet word spread. One invitation became ten, ten became fifty, and before long, curious eyes from across the art world began turning in her direction.

Eventually, she garnered a quiet cult following. They called her “the artsy heiress.” Corny, perhaps but fitting. Reika had finally found a place that was wholly hers.

# data[].attributes.body
Her downfall came from a betrayal she never saw coming. A childhood friend, someone she had continuously vouched for—even turning her back on other friendships for their sake ultimately betrayed her. That same friend published a so-called whistleblowing article, spreading lies that Reika wasn’t the true hand behind her own art. The piece claimed that the ideas, the creativity, and even the finished works were not hers, but her friend's.

With no one left in her corner, Reika’s once-promising art career collapsed almost overnight. The circle that once admired her turned away, and her lack of close social ties left her defenseless. She was quickly shunned by the very world that once embraced her.

She disappeared from the public eye for nearly half a year. And when she finally returned, there was nothing left of the person she once was. After such a public humiliation and wave of rejection, she couldn’t bring herself to face a canvas, let alone pick up a brush. Instead, she began indulging in the expected clichés of a disgraced heiress. She was seen at endless parties, drank recklessly, and eventually turned to drugs. It was a painful contrast to the Reika who once found fulfillment in quiet creation, in breathing life into a blank page.

The Jabamis, though initially tolerant of her decision to step away from the family legacy, eventually had enough. Without informing her directly, they cut her off financially. Reika only found out after her card was declined at a party in Bali.

With nothing left to lose, she finally packed her bags and left...Hoping to escape it all, even if only for another summer.

# data[].attributes.body
Arriving at Willith Beach, Reika was hit with a wave of disappointment. The once-tranquil town where she had spent countless summers escaping the chaos of her world was now being transformed into yet another tourist-driven cash grab. It only added to the growing list of things that seemed to be going wrong in her life.

Now that she has been cut off from her family's wealth, with her spending habits still unchecked and her savings quickly running out, Reika finds herself needing to live quietly and start searching for part-time work to stay afloat.

But chaos, and heartbreak, always seem to find her, even when she wants nothing more than to be left alone. The recent arrival of a nearly unwelcome housemate, adds another complication. As she navigates the uncertainty of this season in her life, one question lingers.... Does she still have it in her to fight for her art and the things that made her feel alive, or is it time to let it go for good?

# data[].attributes.body
3/4 threads available:

Na Jaejoon― Sweet tooth/Dalian (replied)

Completed:

Eris Park― Beach

Eris Park― Beach 2

Eris Park― Eris's Residence

Cha Hyunwoo― Cafe

Park Haejun― Contacts

Park Haejun― Dalian

# data[].attributes.headline
I am not my character, please separate ic and ooc. 

# data[].attributes.subject
I am not my character, please separate ic and ooc. 

# data[].attributes.body
hello! you can call me chevalier/knight or any of my characters' names

My timezone is gmt-5 but I have a really bad sleep schedule nowadays so I'm mostly online whenever I can.

Writing style and length: 3rd pov only. Para to novella, please don't be pressured to mirror but also please no one liner replies. My replies could get lengthy especially in settings that require me to describe a scene (purple prose) but do let me know if it ever becomes too much! I'd be happy to adjust to a length that suits both of us. I'm not too fond of "going with the flow" in terms of threading.

At least have an idea if you're the one approaching me to plot because I will have ideas if I'm the one approaching you. With that said, don't expect me to carry the plotting on my own. Even if it's my idea and I see that you're not reciprocating, I'll drop the plotting altogether. No hard feelings!

If the thread is unreplied for a month without prior communication then I will drop it out of respect for the both of us.

I prefer plotting over winging a storyline so we have a clear understanding of what we both want out of a connection.

Do not force a narrative that we both did not agree on. I will be vocal if the thread derails from what we originally discussed. Please do not take offense. I expect you to do the same if you see me writing something that has not been discussed prior (this rarely happens, but I am human too and we all make mistakes.) I will, and have dropped threads simply because my characters have been godmodded.

If you mention my character in any form of writing, please give me a heads up first!

HARD NOs

any plots involving incest/familial relations.

detailed SA or multiple mentions of it during a thread without prior discussion.

vore

terminal illness and the extensive writing of it.

god modding

ooc drama

Genres I'm comfortable with:

angst

tense/antagonistic relations

romance (only plotted.)

smut (minors dni) (only when it helps drive the plot, I will not write pwp)

DON'T BLUR OOC AND IC LINES, THAT'S WEIRD. Lets have fun!

Even if a connection shows potential for an endgame, that doesn’t mean it's set in stone unless we have both agreed. Please avoid making assumptions without proper communication. I strongly believe that open and ongoing dialogue is essential, so I prefer in-depth discussions both before and during a thread.

Do let me know if you want to drop a thread. No hard feelings! A heads up is much appreciated <3

# data[].attributes.body
𝙏𝙞𝙩𝙡𝙚: EX

𝘿𝙮𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙘: its actually so complicated.

summary: The other side of Reika's wretched coin. If there’s one person who has witnessed every side of Jabami Reika—the beautiful, the ugly, and everything in between, it’s Eris Park. Together, they were magnetic, the kind of pairing that burned too brightly to last. Passion bled into jealousy, love tangled with resentment, and two years ago, it all imploded. Nothing has been the same since. Now, their paths cross again....In Willith Beach of all places.

# data[].attributes.body
𝙏𝙞𝙩𝙡𝙚: Kouhai (!?)

𝘿𝙮𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙘: Complicated(?)

summary: Jaejoon, Junko, and now Jianyu. Reika has known him through all his phases, their friendship rooted in a shared love for the arts. He was one of the few—perhaps the only one—who stood by her when everyone else turned away. Meeting again in Willith Beach feels almost unreal, as if time has circled back to remind her of what they once shared. She wonders why ‘Junko’ no longer appears in the art spaces they used to haunt, or why he now hides behind a lighthearted smile, running a small pottery shop when she remembers the depth and sincerity of his work. In a town like this, the past lingers. And in this final summer, with their paths crossing again, it seems inevitable that the ghosts of who they were will quietly find their way back to them.

# data[].attributes.body
𝙏𝙞𝙩𝙡𝙚: boss

𝘿𝙮𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙘: positive!

summary: Someone who knows Reika's past and isn't judging her for it.. someone who's been VERY patient despite Reika's shortcomings as the worst receptionist known to man.

# data[].attributes.body
𝙏𝙞𝙩𝙡𝙚: La Santa

𝘿𝙮𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙘: Positive

summary: Both fleeing scandals in Japan, they had never been close despite moving in the same social circles. In Willith Beach, fate throws them together, and an unlikely friendship begins to take root. Ren becomes the calm to Reika’s chaos, while Reika becomes the voice Ren never knew she needed—steady enough to stay when everything else has fallen away.

# data[].attributes.body
𝙏𝙞𝙩𝙡𝙚: boss

𝘿𝙮𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙘: Positive

summary: The owner of 'Sweet Tooth.' Another kind...and perhaps too trusting(?) boss. More forgiving than Yeseul, she lets Reika lounge around when the shop is slow. .

# data[].attributes.body
𝙏𝙞𝙩𝙡𝙚: Reizou's friend?

𝘿𝙮𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙘: neutral

summary: Jabami Reizou’s friend first, and Reika’s thorn in the side second. That was always Haejun. He’s in Willith because, like her, he’s running from something. Whatever ghosts trail him, he hides them in the same careless indulgences Reika uses to smother her own troubles. In that, they’re not so different—two people who should have outgrown the past, yet keep finding themselves circling back to it.

# data[].attributes.body
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

ᴅᴇꜱᴘᴜᴇꜱ ᴅᴇ ʟᴀ ᴘʟᴀʏᴀ

⟢ ᴀɢᴇ: 22+

⟢ ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ: ᴀɴʏ

⟢ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ꜱʟɪᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ʟɪꜰᴇ(?)

[ taken by Wu Hailin ]

After a long day by the sea, Reika leaves the beach as the sun dips below the horizon, sand clinging to her skin and the salt still fresh in their hair. Just as she's about to go, something catches her eye. An object washed ashore, half-buried in the wet sand.

Usually, she has little interest in things that don’t belong to her. Still, she picks it up, fully intending to drop it off at the beach office’s lost and found — assuming Willith even has one. But when does find the office and she steps inside, she spots you there, worry etched across your face, only for it to melt into visible relief when you notice her holding your item.

Instead of handing it over, she shifts it behind her back with a hint of mischief, almost childlike in the gesture.

“Prove it,” she says. “Prove this is yours.”

(Can discuss what kinda trinket your character dropped! Dm me!)

# data[].attributes.body
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

ᴏᴊɪᴛᴏꜱ ʟɪɴᴅᴏꜱ

⟢ ᴀɢᴇ: 25+

⟢ ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ: ᴀɴʏ

⟢ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ᴍᴜʟᴛɪᴘʟᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇʀꜱ, ꜱʟɪᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ʟɪꜰᴇ (?), ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ(?)

-

Restless yet jaded, Reika’s art had been little more than abandoned lines and unfinished shapes for months. Inspiration came in flashes these days, if at all. Then she met you, a fleeting encounter on an ordinary day, and something shifted.

It wasn’t dramatic, not at first. Just small, idle sketches in the worn notebook she carried everywhere. She told herself it was nothing, but somehow your eyes kept appearing on the page, each attempt capturing a little more of what she remembered but couldn’t quite explain.

Days pass. Then, by chance, you met again, at a café, on the pier, somewhere along the restless sprawl of Willith Beach. While she sat with her sketchbook open, you caught sight of the drawing.

“Who’s that?” you asked, leaning closer.

She froze for a beat, as if debating whether to answer. You didn’t know it yet, but you’d unknowingly breathed life back into a part of her she thought was gone.

(Could develop to a friendship! Dm me!)

# data[].attributes.body
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

ᴄᴀʟʟᴀɪᴛᴀ

⟢ ᴀɢᴇ: 25+

⟢ ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ: ᴀɴʏ

⟢ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ(?)

[ taken by Na Jaejoon ]

You’re at a party. Doesn’t matter if you came willingly or got dragged along, the night slipped away in a blur of laughter and too many drinks. You got so drunk you found yourself dancing with strangers, including Reika.

Whether you know each other already or are just meeting now, it doesn’t matter. There’s something about her that pulls your gaze, something you can’t look away from.

But before anything can happen, she vanishes into the crowd. You search for her, but she’s gone. You leave the party feeling a quiet disappointment settling in.

The next day, fate throws you a curveball. You find her at her day job, looking utterly hungover but trying to hold it together. She sees you, recognizes you, but instead of greeting you, she freezes. Embarrassed about last night’s antics, she puts on her best customer service smile and pretends not to know you.

“Hi! How may I help you today?”

(Further details can be discussed in dms!)

# data[].attributes.body
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

"ʟᴀ ꜱᴀɴᴛᴀ"

⟢ ᴀɢᴇ: 25+

⟢ ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ: ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ

⟢ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ

[ taken by Ren Matsuno ]

You came to Willith Beach to escape the storm raging in your life. So did Jabami Reika, though the two of you couldn’t be more different. You follow rules, keep to curfews, and live by carefully crafted plans.

Reika lives on the opposite schedule. She sleeps deep into the morning and wakes only when most are settling down for the night. Yet somehow, your paths cross, your routines occasionally overlapping like waves meeting on the shore.

Out of those moments, an unlikely friendship takes root. She becomes the voice you didn’t know you needed, and you become the steady calm in the chaos of her mind, the peace that tempers her storms.

Together, you discover that friendship can bloom in the most unexpected places, between the most unlikely people.

# data[].attributes.headline
𝙐𝙣 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙤 𝙎𝙞𝙣 𝙏𝙞 ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

# data[].attributes.subject
𝙐𝙣 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙤 𝙎𝙞𝙣 𝙏𝙞 ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

# data[].attributes.body
[ ᴍɪᴅ-ꜱᴘʀɪɴɢ, 2025 ]

Fuck.

It seems like Dad’s finally had enough of my scandals. Rich, isn’t it? Coming from the same man who used to boast about supporting me, my “endeavors,” my artistry and my choices. . .no matter how questionable they were.

I can’t even blame him, really. There’s only so much filth a family name can soak up before it starts to stain, and the leniency they claimed to “afford” me was always on borrowed time. If I were him, I’d be sick of me too. . .Hell, I am sick of me.

God, I’m so fucking tired.

I can’t stay here for another second...

And I sure as hell can’t leave for Korea. The last thing I need is to see his face again, smug and self-satisfied, gloating in the face of my failures. No. I won’t give him that.

But there is one other place...Willith Beach.

I doubt he’ll be there. . . I want to doubt it. After everything that happened, surely he wouldn't ever come back.. unless he really doesn't care anymore. Besides, I still have my key. I could stay there until the summer ends, long enough to decide whether to quit art for good or try clawing my way back to a muse that’s long since abandoned me.

Though if the whispers about property buyouts are true, he might already know. He might already be planning his return. Small world, after all. Cruel one, too. . . No idea if he's still sentimental.

It’s strange. The thought of losing that place feels like losing the last scrap of reprieve I have.. It just won't be the same when the mass tourists pour in.. when it becomes so gentrified... Another thread cut, another nail in the coffin. Nothing lasts forever. I’ve always known that, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch pieces of my life vanish.

Regardless, I can’t stay. I would rather vanish than bend my neck for an apology I don’t mean, or admit to offenses  I’m not ready to own.
Maybe this escape will lead somewhere. Maybe it will just be another wasted detour. I don’t care. I need air. I need quiet. Japan has been suffocating me, and these endless, hollow parties have drained all the colors I used to see so vividly.

I still have my savings, even if my credit cards are useless now. That will be enough. It has to be.

The rest, I will figure out once I’m there. . .

# data[].attributes.body
Jabami Reika had managed to secure exactly two part-time jobs since arriving in Willith Beach in the middle of spring, settling into a beach house that may or may not have truly been hers.

Her first job was on Mondays and Thursdays as the receptionist at Moon Yeseul’s veterinary clinic. Yeseul was a stern woman, efficient, precise, and armed with a gaze sharp enough to cut through excuses. Yet she was not without kindness. Her discipline came in the form of fines and penalties she referred to as “dues,” which Reika apparently owed for every infraction. Being late meant not just a smaller paycheck but an extra hour after closing, scrubbing and tidying every corner of the clinic.

To Reika’s great dismay, she despised cleaning and disliked labor in general. Still, she remained quietly grateful. Yeseul had been the first to take her in despite her lack of experience, and that counted for something.

Her second part-time job was on Wednesdays and Fridays at Sweet Tooth, a cozy local ice cream shop owned by Han Yeoreum. Yeoreum was, in every conceivable way, the opposite of Yeseul. She was so relaxed about work that Reika sometimes wondered if she had simply given up on the concept of rules. Tardiness was overlooked. A hangover was barely acknowledged. Somehow, Reika still got paid.

This leniency baffled her, but she did not complain. Sweet Tooth gave her space to be lazy while still earning enough to get by. When business was slow, she could prop her sketchbook on the counter and lose herself in idle drawings of whatever happened to catch her attention, whether it was sunburnt tourists, dripping ice cream cones, or the occasional stray dog wandering past the shop window.

Her punctuality had yet to improve in either jobs, but she still held both positions. . . For now.