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peacockstop2024-10-15 09:00 pm
TDM 06
【 Thank you for choosing the Golden Peacock, 5-star resort and casino. You are currently registered as a WILDCARD in our system.
On behalf of the house and resort, we would like to advise all Game 52 players to exercise caution around the Golden Peacock for the next few weeks. The veil between 'what is' and 'what has been' grows thin and the threads of fate have tangled in unexpected ways. We are currently observing how these two phenomena behave when they occur simultaneously and act in concert.
We advise that all guests monitor their physical states until the veil thickens once again and the threads of fate return to running parallel. If you find yourself undergoing any strange transformations, please report to the Broken Wing clinic for observation. We will do our utmost to make sure you are comfortable during this time.
You may also notice other strange phenomena around the Golden Peacock while the veil is thin. Please continue to exercise caution. New wayward spirits have joined us during this time. While spirits are crossing, it is possible for guests to get swept along into the ghostly realm.
As always, please let us know if there is anything we can do to improve your stay. 】
HEADS
TAILS
MAIN LOBBY
BACK HALLWAYS & STAIRS
MONSTER MASH
THE VALE
SMOKED EGG
BALANCE RETURNS
OOC NOTES
▶ All characters on the TDM are WILDCARDS, which means they have not yet been assigned a card value. Suits will not manifest until characters are accepted into the game.
▶ All TDMs are game canon. This TDM acts as the game's October event. Changes to the above locations will ICly be present from October 15th - November 3rd. All supernatural phenomenon will increase in strength over time, culminating in peak activity on All Hallows' Eve. The days following Halloween will relax, leading into eventual normalcy. Some locations are spared the supernatural frenzy, so players can play as normal if they wish to avoid these tropes/prompts. Players may assume that the supernatural come and go in the above specifically incorporated locations.
▶ Current characters may top level on the TDM. Any current characters posting to the TDM should note they are current in their subject header.
▶ The top level directory is for new characters only. We want to make sure new characters are prioritized and receive attention! If you would be interested in a game invitation, you can note that in your comment header.
▶ If you aren't satisfied with these prompts, please feel free to check out our LOCATIONS to explore more of the resort!
▶ Smut threads that take place on this TDM can be used for rewards. If both parties in the smut thread join the game, you may retroactively apply the character's initial card values to your 52 bank. If one character does not join the game the thread will not be applicable toward rewards (as that character would not have a card value). The character that does join would still receive a small payout for the encounter. Hopefully it was a fun thread regardless!
▶ We ask you to kindly add content warnings to your threads as appropriate. This TDM in particular has the potential to get real wild, so we want to emphasize this request!
▶ If you do not currently have permissions and kinks listed in your character’s journal we suggest leaving a note in your top level of any limits or boundaries for other players to reference.
▶ Go forth and let your freak flag fly!
cw: somnophilia
Pinocchio couldn't begin to count how many times he shakes himself apart on Wriothesley's cock thereafter — like his mind has been reduced to something animal and unreasonable, there isn't a thought that isn't him, his relentless instinct to breed him, how ravaged by sensation he feels, how tender it is that he licks the tears from his face, how gratifying to feel his teeth sink into his skin.
He doesn't recognize when he's reached his limit, the world goes syrupy and dim. With his eyes rolling back behind his fluttering lashes, Pinocchio swoons, a limp hand caught, fingers tangled in Wriothesley's mane, his temple thumping into the churned dirt. Every bit a puppet with its strings cut, he's gone limp. ]
no subject
It's a shame the man isn't awake to feel the way Wriothesley's cock expands at the base, a knot forming to lock himself inside the small frame, to connect them as one. How he grinds deep into the puppet, spilling his seed into them, but not stopping his rutting no matter how much seed is spilled into the lithe frame.
He'll eventually slow down once his blood calms and the urge to rut from his suit slowly fades, but not without absolutely decimating the limp puppet.]
no subject
It's a little like having a slideshow played out for him, snatches of light and sound punctuated by periods of syrupy, smothering darkness. But Wriothesley's knot swells and crowds his well-used hole, hard and thick inside him, and his flashes flutter again over the whites of eyes rolled back. His mouth drips, with spit and sound, a senseless groan.
His return to consciousness is marked twice, by a gasp, by the way his body clenches up around him and the heat he's pouring into his gut. What's slower to catch up is his understanding of what's happening, and when it finally does — he's still going, he's come but he's still — he shudders out an inarticulate sound.
It's not ecstasy, it's not pain, it's gratitude, it's exhaustion, it's his all I've ever wanted. Useful, used, fucked out and full, warm and wanted. When Wriothesley's instinct to rut seems to have run out of steam, the puppet mumbles his name, clumsily batting at him with a hand in a manner that was likely meant to pet at him, coordination eroded, his exhaustion absolute. ]
no subject
Breathing coming in warm pants, the usual coolness that comes with his Vision unable to keep up with the frantic and hurried rutting from earlier. He doesn't pull out though, his knot still pressed inside Pinocchio, and merely falls onto his side and forcing the other to lay with him. He crowds the other, pulling them close, a low whine from the heads as they sniff and nose at the other. One starts to lick at the other, less out of hunger and more with some attempt to soothe.
His mind is clearer, slowly settling into a shape that is much more characteristic of himself. More aware. More aware of what he had just done.] Hey... [The voice is a little more gruff. A growl accompanies it in its roughened state.]
When...when did you return? [He's processing a lot right now.]
no subject
The warm tongue painting his cheek rouses him, starts to bring him back from that thunderstruck haze. Hey doesn't find him all the way back; Pinocchio's initial response is a soft, monotonous: ] uh?
[ He shuts his eyes, scrunched up his face before he forces them back open, a breath punching out of him. ]
Return, [ after the way Wriothesley had him howling earlier, his voice should be rough and torn. It isn't, but weariness threads through it, leaden and sluggish, he shakes his head and somewhere loses the lede; it turns into a nuzzle. He's thinking, and this close, the ticking of clockwork busily turning this over and over is more noticeable, ] ...Like Eiden?
[ Who was gone and then he wasn't. He tips his head back against him, craning to catch the eye of one of his three heads, ] I don't... How long?
no subject
He doesn't think too much about how he had ravaged the other, cock still buried deep and no intent to pull out, but he is aware of what he had done. Steps. There's still so much on his mind.] ...Like Eiden. [Wriothesley so often wears his emotions on his sleeve and there's something a little pained in his tone. It's merely human for him to lament when people leave his life and he was not immune to missing someone.
The heads bury themselves against damp hair or the crook of the man's neck or press against skin, as though intent to hide their faces away.] A few months. [Instinctively, his arms around the other tighten.]
no subject
Reflecting on his own reunion with Eiden, when it was him who had vanished, any humor he might have found in how similarly they'd been 'welcomed back' is subsumed entirely by his fatigue. He's spent, utterly, even thinking feels like a chore. Better to bask in the warm ache, the languid affection in the tangle of them. ]
I'm sorry.
[ Wriothesley is usually so open, so the quiet pain in his voice, the way he tucks his faces as though hiding his feelings, makes his heart drop. Months... it's almost too dizzying to consider. Months..! Too fucked out to fully contemplate the disparity between his experience and the length of time that had actually taken place, he pushes his hand into Wriothesley's mane, seeking to comfort him, clumsily carding through his hair, scrubbing at him affectionately. ]
I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I would never... choose to leave your side.
no subject
He laughs. It's quiet, not the usual bark of laughter that comes with a bright grin. It's more somber and tired.]
It's not something you need to apologize for. It isn't as though we choose when we arrive nor do we choose when this place decides it wants us no more. [And Wriothesley was not about to blame the other for their fate.] Sorry. Your scent...you... [He sucks in a breath.] Something in my mind made me snap, I guess. I didn't intend to force myself upon you.
[Regardless if Pinocchio was fine with it or not, and he was sure they had been very into it regardless, he still had forced himself onto them in a feral hunger.]