【 Thank you for choosing the Golden Peacock, 5-star resort and casino. You are currently registered as a WILDCARD in our system.
Due to a high volume of check-ins, temporary accommodations have been made in our parking garage for all new arrivals. We aim to have all guests moved into their reserved rooms as soon as possible. We deeply apologize for any inconvenience!
All are invited to There Is No Tomorrow, a Phoenix Casino soiree to celebrate our beloved guests. The festivities will begin at 1800 hours on January 20th and end at 1800 hours on January 27th. Please look forward to 168 hours of delight.
In an effort to raise happiness and encourage better guest relationships, attendance is required. The house will assist guests that are too shy to appear of their own accord. Please note that black tie attire is mandatory. As always, we hope you enjoy your stay! 】
PARKING GARAGE
ANY CAR IN A STORM
PHOENIX CASINO HALL
WELCOME TO THE NEXT 168 HOURS
Phoenix Casino is a-flutter with activity and packed to the beak with guests. As a famously ever-changing space, the staff would be remiss if they didn't deck the crown jewel of the Golden Peacock out. The casino glitters from top to bottom, shining brighter than diamonds, rubies, sapphires, opals! Party-goers are shiny and glamorous with picture perfect makeup, fluttering gowns, and sharp suits. Card tables are packed and the slot machines are a-ringing as guests play, play, play! Prizes, luxury, booze, attractive people, it's the place that everyone wants to be at.
Those people being dragged inside by some invisible force...? Silly, they were so excited to come that their bodies moved before they realized what was happening. Those are struggles of joy and definitely not the casino's infamous ghost hands dragging unwilling guests to the party at the behest of the house. Look, they're literally hurling their bodies at the card tables with unrestrained glee!
All clocks indicating day hours and night hours have been removed from the casino. Once a guest has entered, their Watch will jam, making it impossible to keep track of the time. You don't need to worry about that tonight.
▶ 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 January event.
▶ 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. This month we also have an ongoing ATP / EMP where players can connect. Please feel free to utilize this for all of your peafowl needs!
▶ 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.
▶ 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.
( the list of things that are bad for asaba harumasa is a lot longer than the one of things that are good for him, the latter of which comprises mostly of one lighter lorenz at this point in time. for his demeanor. for his indelible heart. for his way of somehow looking like he does and being as he is; he thinks they call it range. he wishes he had more wherewithal to enjoy it, but his attention veers from "working relationship" to lighter sort of curling over him.
it's not like harumasa doesn't know the warmth the other man radiates but it's clear he's actively implementing it as he exhales. it makes harumasa sigh shiveringly, body angling more into his with ease. finesse more often used to sneak away from an office room or shoot an ethereal down with several electrified flights, reformed into the soft lean of a smaller cat that can't conceal the shaking.
his tone at least, remains light. )
Ha...ah yes...our working relationship. Well, I wouldn't want the HSO to come down on you besides. Though...
( harumasa's smile softens at the corners, but with his head lowered to lighter's shoulder, trying to absorb as much heat from him as he can as his body reacts to the cold that's so biting it can't just be plain old AC, it's not visible. softens. a there-then-gone wind of something like...a hand reaching up into the blue sky like the sun was a yellow ribbon his fingers could close around.
...they wouldn't be surprised, I think. is what he means to say, but ends up murmuring, sort of against lighter's shoulder, but close to the juncture of his neck, )
...public property damage's no joke of course. Lots of paperwork...hey, you wouldn't do that to me, would you?
( if he's honest, harumasa chooses to live as long as he can but not without discontent sometimes; now for example. that his physical frailty confuses other things they've been dancing around over and over is...well it doesn't have to be frustrating, he supposes; if he just asked. if he just said. but the son of calydon has his own to take care of, and he's helped asaba harumasa enough that harumasa finds he can't...do it. maybe if he were healthy, if lighter hadn't already clearly undefeated champion though he is hadn't lost so much already. maybe. bad enough he needs this now, the drape of his robe long and falling half across lighter's lap with how close they are. one might imagine if harumasa were an actual stray cat he'd be burrowing even more relentlessly, complete with mewls and tail curls. a likely blessing: he's just a person who, understatement, doesn't do well in the cold, hard for him to even open his eyes.
he wonders if he's imagining it, the faint ease of his breaths the longer he holds onto him.
Rude draws the ace of spades. It's an alarming realization that he doesn't consider himself to be dominant. Maybe on the field, or in a fight, but even then he's a strict follower of orders. He doesn't ever give them. Even his subordinate, Elena, ends up pushing him around if he's not careful.
So he's already out of his comfort zone when he comes into contact with a new stranger that's apparently drawn a submissive card. He clears his throat to get his attention as he approaches, looking them up and down behind dark sunglasses. Maybe a little on the younger side, but seems like he's seen some shit in his life that has given him a bit more of a mature demeanor--or Rude could be completely misreading the guy.
"Have you done this kind of thing before?" he gestures vaguely to all the bdsm equipment around them to choose from.
I fucking will. I'll take it all away in a fucking second if I don't hear that mouth.
[ texas isn't the only one who can growl, and sure, her own rumbling little threat is hardly a contender in terms of volume and presence. it's barely even voluntary; watching texas swallow up her fingers and leak steamy hot fluids into her palm with every thrust has turned her throat thick with renewed and reinvigorated arousal, her chest heaving with the effort that it takes to breathe through the ache. texas should really always be this beautiful — she should forever get no farther away than the very tip of w's fingers. ]
'Thank you, W, for pounding this pussy so good.'
[ she'll even help! in that teasing, silkenly-purred sing-song, the same sort she might have used to taunt texas and her team from the rooftops back in the day. let texas remember, make it impossible for her to forget exactly who it is twisting her fingers deeper and deeper with every hard tug on her hips, who it is she's pleading for more from. maybe w's got her suspicions all wrong and texas is like this for everybody who pokes her down here, but that shit won't be happening on her time anyway. this is her week to not only use texas, but make this part of her all her very own.
fuck pretending or being shy about it. w serves her strokes she'll feel all week and spares a few torturously elusive licks to her clit until it twitches right against her tongue. all this need is doing something to her, settling over her in a fevered haze, her face on fire as she purrs: ]
Fuck, courier, you're so fucking hot inside. I think you're gonna melt right here in the fucking palm of my hand. Might as well beg me to ruin you right now.
[ she's still got so many fingers left, still has this wide open mouth waiting. and she doesn't even care if texas crashes into her face so violently that she can't breathe until her lancing fingers send her rocking back again, it's a point of pride when the lower half of her face comes away wet and warm, when she knows it's probably an awful misery to lose the sweet but fleeting suction of her lips. the one thing w definitely isn't shy about is getting filthy in any regard, and if texas has still got an eye on her (which she should, w's not waggling her tongue until it aches for nothing), she'll even see her delighting in it. ]
( please, he does not fret. if anything, he merely....considers. perhaps overmuch at times, but nevertheless.
but he does follow her lead, and places his hands dutifully in hers as directed. there is no embarrassment to be found in being the follower rather than the leader; factors like height or gender ought not dictate what role a person plays on the ballroom dance floor. he wouldn't be much of an impartial judge if he made decisions based on stereotype alone. )
Very well. I will do my best to match your movements.
( and, if nothing else, the first few steps are blissfully accident-free. )
[Normally, the House's endeavors struck him as too time-intensive to ever scam. Whether it be scavenger hunts, in-depth feelings sharing, it usually meant too long dealing with any particular person and Aak was able to resist the siren's call of gambling. Here, though, with the promise of accumulating as many toys as he could get his grubby little hands on, for free, the House finally has him with an idea.]
[So, here he is, with a literal arm-full of toys. They're not won (yet) but he's confident in his ability to use them before the time is up. Provided, of course, he doesn't lose them. A ball gag slips from his armful and clacks against the ground as he turns to a familiar voice.]
Oh! [recognition, followed by a cheery look,]
Hehe, taking part in a less traditional festival, huh? [Aak's tail swishes while he ignores the fact something in the mess of items he's holding starts buzzing. It's clear, with absolutely no need to read the future, the Feline's probably going to end up on the bad side of the House.]
Go ahead and spin! Treat yourself to something. I mean, I guess, [he shrugs, barely keeping a pair of handcuffs from sliding over his arm,] you could pick something but it's the spin that's fun, ain't it?
So copious amounts of ( ahem ) debauchery is uncommon where you come from as well?
( good to know. he pays half a mind to her casual conversation and the other half to asking the idle waitress for two glasses of water, which she agrees to bring with a lazy nod. well, at least that's one problem taken care of. a shame there's still so many left to grapple.
but first: the fact that so much of this is familiar to her is worth paying attention to, and once the waitress slinks away with his request, neuvillette turns his full attention back to layla. )
Do you frequently attend parties like this one?
( she does seem quite comfortable here, unlike him. )
[he's got guts indeed! guts for days! . . . perhaps a nice dose of overconfident stupidity, but that is neither here nor there. the sharp bits press a little more into his neck and Akira sucks in a sharp hiss, body tensing like a coiled spring, ready to move. but. . . then the sensation is gone, and the tension seeps out of his shoulders like evaporated water]
Huh. And suddenly, I feel so much more motivated.
[without the threat of a stabbing looming over him, Akira shifts in the front seat, one arm resting against the center console as he peers at his companion. Bandit King, he had said. interesting. . .]
If you have to know what I was doing, I was trying to hotwire the car.
[he points to the opened ignition console and all of its exposed wires, like that is explanation enough]
( "kind". what a dreadfully polite turn of phrase. and yet he supposes he should be grateful for the relative freedom they have been given here as opposed to immediately being captured and chained and put to all manner of uses.
(he isn't, but now isn't the time or place to voice those frustrations.)
his gaze lingers on the soft glow of his watch screen a moment longer before it lifts again, first out towards the crowd and then back to arlecchino. they could dance around the subject all night, a method he's never been all too fond of, or they can get straight to the point. )
I assume you sought me out for a reason beyond that of the appearance of socialization.
( even if he is a familiar face, he does not believe the knave would make any move without first considering all possible use cases and outcomes. unlike childe, she has always been driven by more than mere battle lust. )
Aw, promise? [ don’t threaten her with a good time. her extremely sane laugh is only temporarily interrupted by the detonation, replaced again by coughing while there’s still ash in her mouth and now her tongue is singed. deservedly, again. her tail starts to move, the punishment and sear to her mouth and the sharp of the heel to her back met simply with greedy anticipation.
the knife can’t cut much of anything, not without effort, but she has enough sharp to her nails to start slicing clawmarks to w’s legs, removing her tights in long cuts and ribbons. she doesn’t have to lick tights clean if she simply shreds them. that’s the kind of flexible thinking the worst ex-famiglia wolf has. anyway she’d prefer to lick bare thighs instead and dips down to do just that as her hands go to spread w’s legs apart. ]
I was your willing partner, tesoro. Surely you can dance and be mine for a round too. You were so kind as to fill two of my holes, even… it’s only fair if I could have at least one of yours as well. [ as for which—her hand holding the slick knife slinks down w’s thigh to grope her ass, give it a nice claw-studded squeeze. the toy knife is generously and filthily dripping with her juices already but well, she doesn’t mind licking w open a little more beforehand or even salivates at the opportunity. ] This one, for instance, I think would make a cute sheath.
( it's a good thing aventurine has long grown used to the house's ministrations, because waking up on a bed that is not his without the usual company he has around doesn't come wholly as a surprise; he's not the kind to drink himself into forgetfulness... at least not without reason. and the party the casino had thrown had hardly been reason enough to do it.
besides.
even if he had done it, and therefore forgotten about it, he doesn't think he would have laid with one (1) miss stellaron. not because he doesn't like her (he does), but because he doesn't quite yet know where their partnership-turned-friendship lies with her. the last thing he recalls of penacony is talking with ratio, and laying in the dream pool. the last thing some other people remember are way ahead of that, where the game of penacony had come to an end and his job was long over.
so, well. it's easier to know how many pretenses he has to keep up before he willingly takes her to bed, you know. )
I guess they do say a healthy night of sleep is about eight hours long. ( 'they' being ratio, but like, neither here nor there. imagine listening to what the good doctor says.
still, aventurine turns towards stelle, properly welcoming her in on the cuddle. figures that, depending on her reaction, he might be able to tell where they stand. or not, considering how unpredictable she can be, but that in itself is the fun of gambling, isn't it? )
But you've been sleeping for a while, so maybe that's a little too much. The conductor wouldn't want you to harm your health now, would they?
[ Too bad he's still wearing his slick as hell shutter shades indoors like a dork. -100 cool points from the cool score, my man! Being the paragon of socializing that she is, Mayou responds to his question with a totally baffled look like he's asking her to explain why the sky is blue and grass is green. ]
Wands are wands. Point and shoot. [ #restofthefuckingowl. ] You don't have magic where you're from?
[ The wheel spins slower while ticking through numbers – 26, 27, 28, 29 – monotonous background noise that she tunes out to demonstrate her point instead. With two fingers of her right hand extended, a tongue of flame bursts to life over her fingertips, cheerfully flickering without candle or wick but otherwise seemingly mundane. ]
It's like an amplifier, I guess? Whatever spell you feed into it gets magnified and focused with the right tuning. [ Mayou rolls the flame along the backs of her fingers, letting it go out with a puff of smoke once it's made a full circuit. ] So instead of getting a headache trying to do all the work yourself, a wand does the heavy lifting and you get bigger, better results. Make sense?
[ Meanwhile, the wheel spins even slower. 7... 8... 9... ]
[ He gives the man's hand a warm squeeze, even as his gaze momentarily drifts, cataloguing the attention of those now watching curiously. Too many of the long-term guests, the ones that have been here even before him and those he arrived with, enjoyed lounging and waiting for a show to start, finding it to be their favorite sort of entertainment.
Sylvain's been on the wrong end of that a time or two, and how uncomfortable it could be. The new arrival already had enough to adjust to, without that thrown into the mix.
Which is why he tucks Dan Heng's hand into the crook of his arm and guides him away from the main part of the room, towards one of the shadowy little alcoves or rooms that lined the lounge. ]
Come on. let's find somewhere a little quieter. You can ask anything you like, if you have questions, and I'll do my best to answer them. Or, if you'd rather, I can distract you from how... overwhelming everything else is right now. [ He inclines his head slightly at the Ace of Diamonds Dan Heng has been assigned here. ] Looks like the House had something in mind for you, after all.
[ Sylvain's hand just gives a comforting pat to the fox clinging to him like very pretty arm candy and ignores the security as he intently strolls right past without stopping.
He sees one guard open his mouth to stop them, but another clears his throat to interrupt. Sylvain hides a smirk. As he'd been strolling about the resort all last month as an Ace, he supposes he'd left an impression. Not that he had any intention of abusing that - he tried to use it to help the other lower ranked guests where he could, and he didn't mind flexing it as a metaphorical middle finger to the House itself when he could.
When they get fully inside, Sylvain starts steering them away from the door to put a little more safe distance from them. ]
[ Definitely still bubbly. Some would say it's a character flaw. ]
Who knows what they expect. Not all their decisions make sense. Sometimes I think they just enjoy fucking with us to see what we'll do about it. Then again, the older guests do seem to seek out new forms of entertainment they haven't tried before, just for the novelty of it. Perhaps this is more for them.
[ Those do seem to be the ones that are seeking out the sensation willingly, rather than those like Sylvain, who indulged on accident.
If you wanna try and fix it with a blowjob, he's probably not gonna object, though. ]
[ what the fuck must they be thinking out in the hall with all this unhinged laughter blaring like klaxons from this room? poor lappland's blackened tongue triggers those shrill, abrasive giggles of w's and... they're having such a wonderful time, aren't they? let's hope no one comes in to see what all this fucking racket is about.
mostly because w really wasn't anticipating losing her tights tonight. it's her fault for figuring it wrong, but it's mostly lappland's fault that she doesn't do more to prevent it. that flash of wicked sharp claws is too enticing for her to do much more than watch in dark fascination as nylon gives way to her own pale skin, to the ruined black silk thong beneath them. that won't be putting up much of a fight, it's already practically given up and resigned itself to chokehold her ass in the events of this recent scuffle. thanks for nothing. ]
Ooh? You think this should be fair?! Who the fuck pr— [ those cloyingly-sweet taunts fade off into a shrill squeal as lappland grabs up her handful of ass, but the most humiliating part of it all is how her legs fan open wider, how she can feel wetness escaping the scant string of her thong and beading just beneath her hole. so close to where lappland is, where her mouth is. w rakes her own blunt nails through lappland's mane furiously. her chest is heaving so hard she's practically breaking her own ribs trying to catch her breath. ]
You've got five seconds to lick like you've never tasted pussy this good or I'll cut out that sick tongue of yours for insulting me.
[ Sylvain just lifts his hand to wave away that statement - literally. ]
It's only a maybe because they changed my room on me again so this is probably mine - especially if you don't have a room yet.
[ He's heard all the wildcards have 'cars' instead, whatever that means. The staff never do well with the new arrivals and overbookings. This has got to be better than all of them waking up naked in someone's bathroom though, right? ]
And no, I didn't kidnap you. I don't remember getting returned here either. Maybe you kidnapped me. You do seem the possessive hoarder type. [ He casts a pointed glance at the blankets. ]
Dang, dude. Right to the point, huh? Alright, fair, she can respect that.
"Beats me. I don't recognize the herbs."
That's a worryingly carefree answer for someone actively amusing herself by trying (and failing) to make intact smoke rings float all the way to the roof, but Mayou doesn't seem all that bothered with twig's mystery origins in the first place. With the drug balanced in her fingers like some old timey cigarette holder, she gives Zoro a blatant once-over from head to toe, noting the subtle tension drawn taut in his posture like a drawn bowstring.
"It's not like you'll be missing out on much, you know? Trying to get any sleep with this racket going on is bound to be an exercise in futility." She nods at the interior of the room, lazy trails of twig winding up from many mouths, a mass of people with fever-bright eyes. "Might as well enjoy yourself while you're stuck here with the rest of us."
One amber eye peers out from beneath his arm, as his lips quirk into a faint smirk.
"It could be worse? At least they left us in a bed. One with blankets, even."
Sorry, Ekko, if that's your requirements, you might not be leaving right away. A cursory glance around the floor reveals not one piece of their missing clothing anywhere in sight.
[ Those sure are gonna be in for a shock around here, sorry man.
Sylvain waves a hand dismissively at the question of his homeworld, though, his nose wrinkling a little ]
They certainly weren't great. My country was tangled in a war it didn't want to be fighting, but were left with little choice. Although I suspect the same can be said of many wars. It... wasn't going well.
[ Although Dimitri's return, along with Byleth, had at least given them a fighting chance. Before that... it had mostly been he and Felix delaying the inevitable. ]
[ ...That. Sure was a mouthful. He was never going to remember that. ]
Uh-huh. Nice to meet you, General. [ And your lovely pillowy tits. ] I'm Sylvain. Sylvain Gautier.
[ He doesn't add his title. He doesn't want to have anything to do with that anymore, even though announcing himself as a future Margrave would certainly curry favor - or at least respect - from some. ]
[ listen he'll take a meatball covered in chocolate over an entire piece of chocolate! why is he questioning leona's hopeful logic, despite knowing full well how silly it may sound? even in dim lighting, the beastman's eyes adjust pretty quickly. it's the shape that gets him.
he does, for the most part, catch it. not with his hand. not with his head. with his mouth.
chew, chew. swallow. ]
... ain't my cup of tea. [ he sniffs. ] You're not holding out on me, are you?
Jackpot. Now, some ( read: the house ) would argue it facilitates fateful encounters and allows new friendships to form. Hard to argue against it, considering our situation.
( it's a surface-level read, but for what it's worth, the particular level of calmness over their current situation and what it could imply that his new friend-slash-temporary roommate is exerting aligns well with aventurine's own, and he thinks they could get along like that. easier to deal with someone with a head on their shoulders and the confidence that surely, without a shred of doubt, they did not drink themselves into a blackout, which means neither did aventurine.
which then, by process of elimination, means no one could have brought them here if not the house. )
That's what they call themselves. Or it calls itself. Ask someone else, and they will have a different guess on what or who the House is.
( on his boxers, aventurine fetches his pants from the pile of his clothes off the floor. he doesn't mind getting stripped off nude without his general consent, but man, creasing his clothes is so uncool. )
But considering the Golden Peacock is mainly a casino, you can imagine why they do it. They have the upper-hand in everything that happens in their domain, and luck is always on their favor. That's why they're 'the House'.
( though at the end of the day, it's still speculation from his part. once aventurine is properly clothed again, he rounds his new friend, looking at the food options. none of it really seems appetizing, not to mention the aphrodisiacs that may or not even be in the food, so he reaches for the coffee, instead. )
Zoro quietly walks through the lounge, observing the other patrons. At this point, he's only half-surprised to find more couples fucking than talking. Being in the middle of it all is surreal, and he moves in a way so as not to draw attention, soon slipping into one of the unoccupied bedrooms. The whole setup reminds him of a brothel. And while he's visited a brothel once or twice, that had always been his own choice. This feels different.
Rude arrives before he has enough time to consider making a hasty retreat.
Zoro clears his throat, looking him up and down in return. A grin curls at the corner of his lips when the older man asks a direct question instead of lingering on awkward greetings. "I've been tortured before, but I didn't get off on it." He shrugs, like this is normal information to casually drop at first meeting. "Not that that was their goal..." He trails off, taking a closer look at some of the equipment before turning his eyes back to Rude. "Have you?"
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