【 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.
[ OKAY NOW IT HURTS it's enough to get ishmael to jump slightly, at least. ]
Ow, okay, I get it! My bad for underestimating you...
[ her poor tush... she rubs at it with her hand before sitting down. at least it doesn't hurt too much like this. her pain tolerance may be rather high due to the hundred of times she's died under limbus company's employ, but still. ]
Anyway, it's my turn, right?
[ she gives the dice a good shake and lets it go. a 5 and a 2. im on mobile so please trust me 🥺 ]
[thank goodness, wei wuxian is always so understanding of the circumstances. sizhui cannot think of anyone else who might be like him and, even if he could, they still wouldn't be as accommodating as him. perhaps sex is just sex and it can be fun, as he's learned, it's still something that he found hard to accept the first time because of just how casual a thing it seemed to be for other people.
fortunately, he had a special person who was just as new to such things as he was and they were able to learn together.
if wei wuxian asks, he'll answer, just like he has been doing. there's no reason to hide what he's gone through from someone so important to him, so he'll keep right on talking for as long as wei wuxian wants to listen.]
Pucas are shape-shifting spirits, usually of the rodent variety on Noctium. [now, he wouldn't normally act smug about anything, especially not something like this because his worry would override it, but he can't help smiling and puffing his chest a little at the remark about him looking impressive.] I like to think I do. Perhaps you'll have a chance to see it sometime.
As for why it's there... they were part of us because we were encouraged [encouraged like it wasn't forced out of them] to be intimate with each other to produce Manna, which is a type of magic that was used to help the Gods of that world.
[After all, he has made him pay the price twice over now. It seems, Matoba thinks with some indulgence, that their previous entanglements have left an impression. Good. If that means that Kizuna will think twice before brushing too close along the razor edge of Matoba's conscience, if that means that the memory of the snarl and heat and ruthless claws digging in past his defenses will come to him before he tries to reach too deeply, then he is doing his job- as one who must live the life of a shield to others, as one who must repel any attempt at ingress.]
[Today not a shield. Just a mask. Drawn in towards him, Kuromine Misa's footsteps are light and graceful as they manage to follow after in an approximate mirror of the intended movements. It's apparent there isn't a lot of experience in this area, but enough to guess without becoming tangled up in two left feet, an innate nimbleness helping above all else. Her hands come to rest on his upper arms for balance, glancing downward at their steps to read and match the pattern, then drawing back upward to focus every attention on her opponent.]
I like deference in a man. [A pretty smile curves her mouth as they meet, eye to glimmering eye, through the veil. Bitch.] Since you've showed some manners, I'll accept your offer.
[Not one who takes his plans being derailed lightly, Matoba supposes that this isn't the worst way he could be discovered. His intent on using this face to do some "sightseeing" among the fresh wildcards must be set aside for now, but in its place he finds an opportunity. How is this little heartbreaker coming along in the den of heartless spirits?]
[Their movements coalesce into a slow sway, hypnotic in its lulling rhythm, but not enough to dull the knife of KuroMisa's tongue.] I wonder what you could want with me? [She muses softly as they turn, clock-work,] When there are so many other hearts to wear on your sleeve.
[Physical altercations can be fun. This guy initiating in such a blithe way left Charlie hopeful for the same play in kind. Instead, he's dragged into a different type of game.
Jaw dropped with - genuine, which is an accomplishment - incredulity, Charlie's silent as the clerk rules against him. Who the fuck cares about the petty rules? Don't you want us stripping each other and fucking!? The argument stalls in his throat, choked behind tense jaw working from one side to another.
He shakes his head.
After a pejorative glance to his opponent, Charlie waves the same clerk back to attention.]
Hold on!
I think you missed something- [Is making his demand undeniable worth the twinge of hunger that will sour his gut? Probably not, and as the clerk stares impatiently, Charlie's already reevaluating this stupid exchange.] No. Nevermind. Thank you, you can go. [He reaches for the dice, fingers perched atop them to roll them idly across the table beneath. This guy doesn't seem the type to shy away from pain. He's just-
A pain. What kind? Charlie's not sure yet.] There's nothin' in the rules against calling a re-roll, you know. [Nothing explicitly allowing it, either.] So long as I'm willing to do what comes up, there's no penalty. If you wanted me to toss 'em again, all you had to do was ask.
[Fingers curl, gathering the dice into his palm. Charlie gives them a petulant, vulgar shake before casting them to the table. Bite Ass.
[ music to her ears, that declaration of hate. her tail instantly starts wagging like the absolute worst canine in this entire casino or dimension or wherever this place might be. she may as well race to the bottom in being the worst patron of this establishment... well in terms of perversion. she likes to think she has some class, just maybe. just maybe, when it comes to cuisine.
and pussy is her favorite meal, and w's tastes exquisite. or honestly taste isn't even her favorite part of the dish. it's the whole experience, licking deep into the wettest and tightest part of her body (well until she might whet her tongue or this knife in that ass), feeling w tremble and clench beautifully down on her tongue. hearing her whine, watching that expression on her face turn increasingly desperate as their eyes lock. she loves it. and all right, she wants to give this pussy a workout and she does, alternating thrusts with her tongue and the knife, the slick slide of both sinking into w one at a time--then both, deep as she can go, with a sudden twist of the fake weapon.
a twist in which she slips her tongue out of w's body entirely, just in case she might cum from it. ]
Ahaha... you taste even better than I imagined, la mia pericolosa puttanella. But I mean it when I say I want to savor this. [ a savage dig of the knife deep in w, to scrape at her insides and--she could speculate, just from knowing where her own g-spot is, maybe what could be a particularly sensitive spot within. well, everyone's different and that includes sarkaz and lupo pussy.
one clawed hand grips w's chin to keep her face turned so she can watch exactly how lappland thrusts the knife inside her, her pace suddenly turning languid and thorough, her ears pricked, ] The taste, sensation, and even how you sound. I've had wet pasta sound like this before, you know! [ a bark of a laugh, because she thinks she's so funny, ] That's how you know it's good pussy! We'll just stir you up inside like this, we can make a mix of my juices and yours deep inside you juuust like this~ [ with a sudden vengeful drag of the broken edge clawing into w, like an extension of her black talons. ]
[with and amused twitch of his lips, Akira tosses another chocolate at Leona, purposefully trying to land it into his mouth. and on this day, a new game has been created: Bonbon Ball]
[ Despite the relatively short distance between Jae Ha's arms and the floor, Gen does a pretty quick job of righting himself and landing smoothly on his feet. He might be an embarrassment, but he is a physically capable one.
And he's using those physical capabilities to quickly scuttle out of arm's reach of Jae Ha now. ]
[ It might simply be pretty words, to ease her concerns, but Hamel's not entirely a poor judge of character. Not when it counts, anyway, so she opts not to argue, instead following him over to the table and the chair.
... Which she doesn't sit at, quite yet, instead casting her gaze about and stepping away briefly to fetch another chair and plunk it down on the other end of the table. Sir, it's okay. You don't have to loom. ]
[ Oh, he must have noticed the tension. Hamel frowns, a little apologetically. Right. He's already helped her to this extent and she's entirely stiff. ]
--I'm sorry, and thank you for the help. This is fine. [ It was more the suddenness than anything. ]
Since the walls of the parking garage are concrete, the luxury vehicles housed within are ill-equipped to to break through them. Even the largest car will crumple well before any structural damage occurs, and the hotel security will be more than happy to try and accost any wreckage-causers to cover the cost of all repairs.
[ So they're about the same in that way, are they? Nehan moves closer, and Broca's expression stays steady even as the hand reaches out to rest against his sternum and fingers begin to trace over the muscle there.
Quick motions towards him, unpredictable movements that might precede violence are something else. Broca would tense up, move back, maybe even lash out at something like that. The occasions that people moved like that towards here here at the Golden Peacock were few and are between though, and most touches were clear and predictable like Nehan's touch is now.
One of Broca's ears twitches at the question, a thoughtful frown tugging down the corners of his mouth at that question. ]
Second, I guess, but it'd be weird for someone to do this if it were anywhere else.
[ He can't imagine he'll ever play dirty dice again once he gets out.
And he still firmly believes he will, despite over a year of time contradicting that thought. ]
[ He didn't say that; her face is pretty. She's so hot, actually! That flat voice, pretending to be unimpressed. Beowulf knows it's all a farce (HAH) because he thinks he's pretty irresistible, but he loves a challenge and is hoping to see her break from that. Consider him accepting of what she's putting out... or what he thinks she is putting out, at least. ]
Yes m'am! Don't gotta tell me twice.
[ He's a go with a flow kind of person, surprisingly, when it comes to sex, wanting more than anything to please his partner, much like how he wants to please his fans. If she wants to ride him as a cowgirl or have him in more control in doggy, any of it sounds good. But yes, he's getting ahead of himself here. Anyway, he makes a brief but embarrassing little howl noise before getting right to it. angelika, you can walk away at any time, girlie.. spare yourself.
Any bit of the duvet that is left covering her gets pushed aside, and he settles his large hands around her waist, sliding her towards him to encourage her to lay back against the disheveled pillows from the night prior. There are other ways he could do this, but perhaps it's best to keep it simple starting out. His hands glide down to the thickest parts of her thighs, coping a feel here before he spreads them apart, finally pulling his gaze from her body to her face. Time for some honest. ]
[ he's quiet at first, again letting the silence of the room (not counting whatever the heck is going on around them in adjacent ones) carry some unseen weight as he turns. he sits, cross-legged, sitting up straight with his hands staying in his lap. no longer is a tail batting itself against lighter--- instead, it's the focused glare of a cat who wants to get a better look at someone he might carve up.
and then he leans forward, tilting his head. the long, sandy colored braid that coils around his neck and over his shoulders falls in that same direction. ]
[ Despite the fact that Broca himself looks like the kind of man who lives in the gym, he's not bothered by the build of others. Wei Wuxian's got a perfectly good chest for kissing, and the parted shirt leaves more than enough space for Broca to do what he needs to do.
Leaning forward, Broca's eyelids flutter shut, before his lips press lightly on the right side of Wei Wuxian's chest a couple inches below the sternum. ]
Edited 2025-01-22 05:16 (UTC)
Alice Liddell 🐰🎩 Alice: Madness Returns 🔪🩸 New Player
i. down the rabbit hole.
parking garage
( open to one or two men )
"I'm late!"
Alice shouts as her body pops up from the bed like a corpse with rigor mortis, rigid and alert. The raven-headed girl looks around with her chest fluttering, worrying that she's overslept and is running late for work. She looks down when the emptiness registers and her eyebrows furrow in confusion: Rabbit isn't clutched in her arms like he normally is every morning.
She isn't in her pyjamas either, though the black satin, feathered robe she is wearing could very well pass for the same thing. Alice can't help but chuckle at the absurdity, feeling incredulous and confused, and a little exposed. Why does it almost feel... tantalizing? The thought makes her shiver, goosebumps raising along the exposed, velvety skin of her inner thighs.
Her demeanor shifts back to concern suddenly as her head snaps up, vibrant green eyes blinking in the details of the vehicle (a very beautifully crafted vintage one, but not a horse and carriage like she's used to) that she's woken up inside. Is this a vivid dream or has she begun hallucinating again? It has to be one or the other.
The set of eyes blinking back at her from between the two front seats look like they're wondering the same thing. "Hi," she manages breathlessly, her pale skin darkening with a red sheen as she realizes she's in company. One look out the window confirms this isn't Wonderland, but one look at the watch wrapped around her wrist informs her of everything she needs to know.
"So," she starts again once the reality (maybe) of the situation settles on her, catching her bottom lip in a lick and tug as she looks up from her watch to continue, "Wake up in a... strange vessel half naked and confused often?" Alice's tone is dry and sarcastic, but the curve of a playful smile gives her intentions away.
"I wish I could say it was my first time."
ii. we're all mad here.
phoenix casino hall — just a puff or two ( open to everyone )
Modest despite her striking features, Alice prefers to dress purely for herself. Tonight's outfit isn't flashy or as luxurious as many of the gowns in attendance at the party, but for an orphan who once wanted for nothing until that's all she had left, a simple satin dress could easily make her feel like a thousand bucks regardless.
Her hair is sleek and half of it is tied back with a matching silk bow, her glowing green eyes a bright contrast to the rest of her monochrome outfit. Miniature versions of the same ribbons were tied at the back of her supple thighs, marking where her sheer nylons end just beneath her skirt.
Her nails have been manicured and the rest of her has been thoroughly groomed, a sort of ritual she'd started indulging in at home as a means to take care of her mental well-being more than anything. It didn't hurt that her dedication meant she finally felt ready to jump into whatever suitable opportunities came her way over the course of the night.
"Don't tell anyone, but I'm usually already asleep by now," Alice confesses to the other lost tourist at the Twig bar, both of them there in an attempt to ensure they don't pass out before any of the fun starts. Who cares about getting a mind splitting headache when FOMO is already achingly real? "I'm hoping this works something like cocaine and I won't be knackered for at least another twelve hours."
She looks down at the strange smoking apparatus (cigarettes are a few decades away from existence in her timeline) with a curious smile before she plugs it between her lips, leaning over and into the stranger's personal space just enough to indicate she needs them to light it for her.
Her eyes are piercing when they lift to stare up at them, a sweet lilt to their wideness, begging for their obedience in her indulgence.
iii. curiouser and curiouser!
game rooms — house of cards ( open to everyone )
A game of questions? The thought of answering anything about her past was enough to set Alice in the opposite direction, but just as she pivots to slip away somewhere else, a ghost hand decides they know better.
"Do you mind?" She snips at the magical air, gesturing wildly as she pushes at the invisible force that drops her back off in front of the game room door. She has a sinking feeling that attempting to walk away again will be met with endless resistance, so she sighs in vain and cautiously enters.
Fearing a choice will be made for her, Alice quickly scans the room in search of someone to take pity on her. This was about to be uncomfortable: Who wants a trauma dump while they're on vacation?
She catches the eye of someone who smiles back at her and nearly feels guilty when she watches them approach because of it.
A few minutes later, Alice is strategically drawing the premier card ("Prettiest should go first," they'd said) and feeling very positive when the house stays intact and the question is harmless. If we were a band, what would our name be? "Flat of Letters," she jokes, playing on the wording of the game as she discards the successfully retrieved ace of spades with a mildly embarrassed shrug.
"Go on, then. Let's see what you get."
iv. it's always tea-time.
hangover aftercare
( open to a woman )
Alice wakes up in the wee hours of the morning, then proceeds to try and make out the features of the woman she'd stumbled into bed with the night before. She also tries remembering her name, but the effort to do so knocks her back into her dreams and she falls asleep a mere hour after she'd stirred awake.
It's the smell of breakfast that drags her out of her slumber awhile later. She expects to find her companion having left without a goodbye, but is pleasantly surprised when sauntering into the dining area reveals the truth: She's just been waiting for Alice to join her.
"What day is it?" She asks with a hoarse laugh that transitions into a cough — all the smoking the night before has coated her lungs and throat in itchy residue. She wonders briefly whether the strange package labelled "Hangover Kit" on the island counter has anything in it to help with that.
Alice sits down with a shy smile, unsure of how to verbalize the relief she'd felt when she realized she wouldn't be spending the morning alone. So she doesn't, instead reaching for a scone, cream, and jam.
— Alice is a true switch who enjoys topping, bottoming, subbing, and domming regardless of her partners' genders, so there's not much she isn't into trying. Muse chemistry will always be #1. Full kink list TBA.
— I assume prose generally but am happy to match your preference if it's brackets.
— I love writing cross-canon (though I'll take a Cheshire kitty boy for her if you're offering) and against OCs as well, so don't hesitate to initiate with them!
— If you think you'd have fun playing with her: I need an invite ✨
Unfortunately for Hank, Gen's spent too long here among people who have made a game out of being obnoxiously flirtatious with him to get a rise out of him. A little sarcasm in response to his own obnoxious comments isn't going to be nearly enough to chase him off, and if he's relying on his age to be a deterrent for Gen...
He's spent a decade obsessively trying to gain the attention of a man not that much younger than Hank. There's nothing about him that's going to chase Gen off, especially not when Hank is carefully plucking at his competitive nature.
And right now? Gen feels like he's starting to win this stupid game of theirs. Between Hank's fingers digging into his hips, and the feeling of him stiffening under the pads of his thumb, it really feels like victory is close at hand. His grin stretches wide, his thumbs still moving in tight circles.
"Bet it counts for the game, but you sure you want me to stop? Seems like you're having a good time here."
[ don't dwell too much on her words, furina, she's just a certified Hater™️. even more so when some unfamiliar woman's been spooning her like they've known each other for centuries. ]
That's what I thought too. But considering how they dumped some of us in the parking garage, it only means there have been some booking problems in this hotel... or something.
[ a shrug, then a sip of her coffee. ]
Hopefully they'll get it straightened out soon. Me being here is a mistake, after all. [ lmao ]
[ to survive in her world, one has to read the waves as well as one could read people, and ishmael likes to think that she's good at doing both. from the way he sits and talks, she can tell that he's from the upper crust of some sort, like the richer people in her Nest before she decided to abandon it all.
at least that what she initially surmises, but when neuvillette says his piece, she flushes slightly in embarrassment. ]
I... I see. I apologize for jumping to conclusions, then.
[ the way he had to pause and think real hard on it is not helping ishmael's impression of him at all, nor this place. she waits patiently for his answer because she's got a feeling he's hesitating on telling her, which is something she can't blame him for. that's a very personal question, one that shouldn't be asked by a total stranger in the first place, but... too late now.
she lets his final answer sink in for a moment, before nodding. ]
...Okay. That's fair, I suppose.
[ one shouldn't be fucking in the gardens, she supposes. but now she's curious. ]
Is it that normal? To be fucking in public without caring who sees and hears?
[ because she is not looking forward for her turn if that day comes. ]
[Because this is the most important thing right now. Not the fact that Lighter is obviously suffering from whatever he had to drink nor the fact there's a stranger in his bed.
Well, in this place, a stranger in your bed is pretty normal all things considered. While Lighter ran hot, Wriothesley ran cold. Like a pillow that always stays cool, he reaches over to give the man a gentle pat on the arm. Wriothesley's touch was cool; a balm most likely to whatever Lighter was suffering from.] Perhaps that's why you've ended up in my bed despite us not getting to even have fun. Truly, what a travesty.
[ life is the privilege of the living. but how odd it is, somewhere along the way ever since their origins in siracusa and, actually, before that originium bomb, she somehow found herself in a world where she could admit that maybe there was absolutely nothing in her life worth living for, except--
for one person. one person she could fixate on in a life-ruining way after all, in the way that she really could just about slaughter anyone for, even or especially family or even possibly herself. her ears tremble, pinned back. what a paradox it is because it took years of nearly losing a life purpose to be with texas when texas disappeared and now, finally, years later she could haltingly consider what the hell life could be if she really gives up on her. there's the part of her that burns with jealousy that texas truly will have a whole rest of her life without her and well, maybe it's all the better if she could try to space or cut their relationship and her obsession. whether she could do so is another question. texas will have the rest of her life to be with that angel and idol and forte and giovanna later, so wanting her now beyond friendship is slightly useless unless she really goes insane.
and she thinks about it all the time. ]
If you really think you can stop me, you have another thing coming. [ all the time. it's not really a joke at all if she fantasizes of kidnapping her, of locking her away, of keeping her all for herself. the toxicity and blackness and violence that she vents on corpses.
and then there's the reality of the truth where she'd kill and die and go to jail for texas after all. still, she mock-snarls in texas' direction, her claws rip the last of texas' accessories and ascot off, then hook to the buttons of her shirt to simply cut them loose and tear. ah... it's really, really such a pain. for all that she scorns people for masking their real selves, she knows she might be the biggest culprit. ]
I'll see if I can make you regret it yet, then.
Come on. Take it all off. [ of course, she's helping. but she's just saying. ] If I'm naked here, so are you. If you think you want me, I'll either cure you of that delusion or we can die trying.
[ He will never beat the dork allegations, but it seems he's long resigned to that. Social anxiety makes people do incredible things.
Though his gaze does linger long on the flame as it curls about her fingers, attention rapt. ]
Oh, yeah. Makes sense to me. I guess what we've got is more... [ forgive me i have no idea how explain this stupid ass gacha game mechanic but god am i trying (what is an attribute, hoyo. what is it.) ] like an affinity, I guess. Mostly for combat. You can route it through weapons, so it doesn't sound all that dissimilar. Never thought about seeing if I couldn't get my weapon back though... something tells me our hosts wouldn't take kindly to anything capable of bringing this place to the ground.
[ Eventually, he does turn his attention back to the slowing wheel. ]
But let's see if you've got better luck than I did.
truly, texas is that sort of girl to not overstay a welcome. lone wolves like her are expected to not do such things, they are not allowed in society to be anything else than what fate was given to them. exiled like one she knows, or her case it was....different. patricide was not a sin the mafiosi took lightly, not even her slaughter of her familiga that night. her choice to run after setting that fire to the manor only cemented that status while nobody cared to know the truth. that a girl like her had grown tired of it all, and that she held no wish to be in this system of wolf eat wolf after her father murdered her grandfather.
but that's not here, it also isn't conversation she's willing to have after a night with a stranger. texas had risen first (as former mafia wolves do) for the sake of quietly leaving, but decided against it. instead she stayed, dressed in a nice button up shirt and black panties only while taking in hand a bit of egg and bacon for herself. she didn't expect company (honestly it's a blur on if they did anything, texas has slept with her fair share during the party) nor did she question being in this room much. she was starving and had a raging headache of her own.
so it's best to eat then worry about anything else later when a single wolf ear, pierced and everything, rises in alice's direction. her mouth was open while those wolf teeth of hers bit down into a thing of toast, how did she sleep? amber eyes fall on alice quietly while she joins in thought. she slept too well. she doesn't always, but it was enough rest for her to feel less like death from the week of partying.
"I slept fine."
quick and easy, but she's a terrible conversation partner on even her best days. not a bad listener, though, or bad for company despite her appearance and demeanor. she's only like others making do with what she has in this hellish resort.
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peacockstop2025-01-15 09:00 pm
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