【 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.
An undisclosed favor is a gamble itself. Betting the odds that you'll have something of value at a later date.
[Which is, of course, not inherently a dealbreaker; he's plenty fond of blank checks and owed favors, but right now he knows he's got leverage, and he's never been one not to use it when he's got it.]
Well, as the saying goes, the bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. I'll give you a hand, but I'll take two favors owed in return.
Oh, there'll be plenty of time for that. We've got rounds to go yet.
[And to his credit, he manages not to shiver at the pressure of that tongue, distant and blunted by the barrier of fabric between; it would've felt better to have it wet on skin, but maybe that's why it's all the better that he left it a tease. It wouldn't do to get keyed up too early.]
And who knows how the dice will roll next?
[So he says, picking them up and starting to rattle them in one hand.]
[ one day w will cut off that fucking tail and nail it to a goddamn wall. she'll make lappland stare at it while she kicks her to wheezing pieces, just like lappland holds her still and groaning for the excruciating drive of that awful plastic thing between her thighs. the jagged edge of it is whatever, a sharp but bendy burst of pain every time it catches her at just the right angle, but the seam where both halves of the hilt were pressed together has her seeing stars. every time her pussy clenches she can feel it, papercut-sharp and searing.
she'd still take it any day over that tongue that wriggles into every last nerve she has and makes her body leap and hop helplessly. her muscles are sore just from enduring it this long, her body heavy with ache like she's been in a head on collision. the only thing worse than that is when it's both, when she has to chew her lip to pieces to keep from crying out. all that work and it hurts worse, her pussy too sore and swollen to bear it all and still forced to balloon so abruptly wide she truly isn't sure whether or not she's burst.
it's almost a mercy when the knife twists. her vision goes red and white, her whole body jolting into the air, her cunt squeezing on — no tongue, she realizes with pain so acute it's incomparable to anything that came before it. her hips beg for what won't come in violent, stuttering thrusts, but it's all just a nice display of her abused, upthrust pussy gushing one great big spattering wave of — come? blood? maybe it's just the spit that foul bitch left in her, drooling into her box like that. ]
Ffffuck you.
[ her lips are numb and filthy with blood from every time she's popped her lip. it's tough work to spit it at lappland, but she does manage to drool it thick into her hair, across her pretty cheek. as well she deserves for trying to excise w's g-spot with a broken prop knife; it could really feel like she's accomplishing the task, the way w bleeds slick and probably real blood every time she stabs it at the right angle.
but some insults won't stand. pink spit bubbles at the corners of her lips as she snarls: ]
My pussy's... way better than some fffucking noodles.
[ it's still so hungry, even after this, her lips and clit blood-red with beyond-excruciating need. the dragging is good, she can ride it like a dying whore, furiously scratching an itch that's already bleeding in miserable pursuit of relief. ]
[ ...in all honesty, it's a little strange to be met with such a kindly response when he's bellyaching about something that's (presumably) his own fault. It also makes his throat run bone dry when he finally lifts his head from his cushy bedding prison, meeting his pretty bedpartner's gaze with his unadorned one.
Only for a moment though, as if the eye contact unnerves him. He's otherwise calm, though. At least outwardly. ]
Mor — [ That dryness causes his voice to crack slightly. He clears his throat. ] ...Morning. You weren't busy, were you?
[ Seeing as how she's already up and dressed and he is not. ]
Well, he certainly sounds pleased with his own answer. Weiss, seated on the opposite end of the small table, doesn't outwardly react to it, but it certainly gets her to think of her own answer. She has several best friends and she wouldn't be able to choose just one, though saying something like "all together, they kind of add up to one best friend" feels like it'd get the hairs on her arms to stand from how embarrassing it sounds.
At the very least, the House seems to accept the answer, not yet marking him a loser.
"Alright then. Here I go," she announces as she stands up to get a closer look at the house of cards. It's one of the cards that's flat and sideways that she pokes to get it to jut out from the other end. So far so good! Once she's pulled it out successfully, she quickly sits back down to not disturb the pile of cards stacked upon each other. The farther she is, the better.
"What is the best prank you’ve experienced or planned? I can't say I've ever done anyth- oh!" She sounds excited now, even lifting a finger as she recalls one of her brightest ideas.
"My teammate told me to add five teaspoons of sugar in her coffee when I told her I'd make her a cup." She pauses. Wait for it... wait for it... She lets out a snicker before the kicker, "But I only put four!"
So evil! So dastardly! Truly a master of all pranks.
[ Whoever said eight hours was a healthy amount of sleep was just jealous of people who can sleep right through to the heat death of the universe — which doesn't seem too bad right now, considering the way her head throbs behind her defiantly shut eyelids. Maybe if Aventurine would stop his yapping and just let her rest...
...
Ah, there it is, the mental record scratch. Beckoning of the heat death of the universe be damned, Stelle's eyes fly open, hands rising swiftly to push her ashy hair out of her face (and away from him, did she touch him anywhere awkward??? help) to clock a familiar set of Avgin eyes. It hasn't been long at all since she assisted (citation needed) with his and his fellow Stonehearts' departure from The Reverie, yet the way she stares at him now, it's like she's seen a ghost. Like, if anyone she knew was going to be here, of course it would be him, but — ]
In my bed?! Aventurine, you — [ she got her words SO scrambled ] W-wait, did we —
[ Did they? She had a lot to drink, sure, but she'd remember, right? He seems the type to make it memorable, which is not what she needs to think about right now.
Scurrying back to the far edge of the bed, her lips press into a thin line, poised to say something — before she turns her face back into her pillow and utters a muffled: ] Pom-Pom has forsaken me. Let me sleep forever.
(living of course never was the easiest thing, some could give up without even trying. texas for a time had done similar in how she moved through the motions, life was nothing she enjoyed. that she faded fast and felt almost as if nothing might ever drag her out of that pit. then eventually, texas found herself thinking that wasn't what she ever wished for. to die that easily when she began to find her way once again and rebuild. but, rebuilding could be another hardship. with or without how her life's direction changed; she found it to be one of the hardest moments she's ever experienced. going from living corpse to back to a girl that had lost more than she'd ever talk about.
as that title she was given, her past was and still is falling under a single word (omertosa) in everything that happened. texas isn't thinking about it, what she thinks more about is that there are some things that she should have done better. those were regrets, she would always carry them. yet here they are, alone. they aren't bound by their dni, not even by the fact rhodes island contracted them. all they're here as is two wolves. two wolves that nobody knows the history of, two wolves who have been picked apart cleanly by the system they were once part of. they do not belong here, perhaps, not any further than they did in terra. likely not ever would they find a true home even if texas did make friends. cellinia is good at it, but that didn't mean she's the greatest of friends and people.
her demeanor leaves much to be desired, though she pauses her thoughts and snarls back at the mockery she's met with. the two of them would never know if cellinia doesn't try now, won't they? she didn't say that just to sound "cool", not even to sound like she's a big shot of sorts. texas intends to try. that's all she can do.
that's all she has to do, with or without a weapon in her hands.)
I'm hardly being delusional, despite what you think.
(a hiss, the cloth and fabric rips easily, the buttons popping off at least to reveal familiar (that one lappland gave her along her side and abdomen in particular) and not so familiar scars once her dress shirt falls to the floor with accessories. maybe even signs of another newer scar in the shape of talons along her right arm. those were healing from an event in october, but it must have been bad if a winged clawbeast got its hands on her.
her bra is exposed too, black and sitting pretty with patterns in the fabric whenever texas reaches to undo her belt. annoying clothes, but she's almost freed of them. almost free as the belt buckle comes undone and the sound of her zipper coming down fills the air. she's in a hurry to undress all the same.
they're likely never bound to change in some ways, but they're both culprits of being hypocrites about their own ideas. their own thoughts and more.)
Long, huh. [ Lighter does seem to consider the command at length, giving a cursory sweep of the immediate area with his shaded gaze. (After a long list of harrowing challenges at the behest of the wheel, he did at least manage to pull a nice pair of sunglasses.) The party hall is... busy, to say the least. Mostly with people chasing their own highs and pleasures, but the place seems to value image above all else, the heat mirage of luxury. Not even a mop in sight. ] Easier said than done, I'm afraid.
[ But now that he's offered the help, he's not going to go back on it. Loosening his tie and shoving his sleeves upwards, he follows Sunday's drifting from below at an amiable pace. ]
But I've got an idea. Think I can convince you to relax up there?
[ This is definitely the face of a man who might cause a spectacle. ]
[ It's either Amphoreus, or Pom-Pom's sense of direction may be way off. But they hadn't even made the jump yet...she has to admit something isn't adding up, not the least of which is what he asks next.
...She taps a finger against the glass bottle. Maybe the drinks can wait. ]
However it happened, they can't have gone far. These never go as smoothly as they're supposed to.
[ Even so, she's reaching for the pocket of her robe, expecting to find her phone, only to find it completely empty. Oh.
Nuh-uh, no way. If this is your room, I wouldn't be here!
[ She hasn't gotten the memo about how the resort likes to pull this sort of bed shuffle, and though she was pretty drunk last night, there's no way she would have just stumbled into a stranger's room and gotten into bed with them. She's bold, but not quite that bold! ]
Prove it.
[ She's decided the burden of proof should be on him, since he's being so calm about it. ]
[ A distraction, but not in the way Lighter expects. Familiarity, but also not in the way Lighter expects. He's gone still in consideration, save the instinctual flicker of muscle as a curious coolness dissipates on it. The heat of his skin isn't very normal by the same measure, as if fire sits just below its surface. ]
Yeah. Used to. [ He amends, though the memories of it are, as always, all too near. ] Sorry, this is your bed?
[ Of course it is. It's not his bed. Did he have a bed, even? He heaves a dispassionate sigh. ]
I'm not used to the matchmaking services here yet.
[ somehow she didn't register her tongue is under her fingers until texas is licking at the skin above her breast. but it felt good, enough to get a shuddering exhale from ishmael as she swallows down her trepidation. from here, even she can tell that texas is the predator, and she herself is the prey who'd let herself into the lion's den. or wolf's den in this case?
but before she can respond with her own name, texas bites down, and ishmael can't help the soft moan that emanates from her throat, and she clamps her mouth down in time to prevent any more from coming out. it had felt good, sure, but her heart's practically threatening to leap out of her chest with every heartbeat; just a little deeper, and it would've been easy for texas to rip her own heart out of her ribcage and leave no crumbs behind.
but it never comes. still, it's making ishmael breathe hard against texas's ear, her hand going for the other woman's shoulder for balance. are they done? they should be. and yet, she finds herself clamoring for the rush of adrenaline just now. ]
Busy? [ she laughs lightly, shaking her head. ] No, I don't think I'll be busy for a while.
[ she's seen all manner of things these past few years in the midst of war, but there's really nothing quite like getting dropped into another place all of a sudden. especially in a place where she's certain she couldn't imagine even in her wildest dreams.
but her smile remains, softening a little now as he seems to be getting his bearings. ]
There's some food and water here, if you're ready for it. [ one hand lifts slowly, palms and fingers open to show that it's empty, hovering just above his pillow. ] If not, will you allow me to ease that headache of yours instead?
[ Huh, she's got a point about the dress...but Stelle isn't all that attached to it, anyway. She vastly prefers shorter skirts, anyway, so if that's the problem, the solution is easy!
Reaching down, she snags the hem of her dress that has settled around her ankles, and starts to pull on it, in an effort to just. Start tearing it. The dutiful staff member that put her in this number would probably give up the ghost at the sight of such a beautiful gown being ruined so liberally, but what else is she to do?
Except...it's not that easy to tear with her bare hands? Who'd have thought. ]
Yeah, I'm pretty sturdy! Hey, d'you have a pocket knife or anything? We can take care of the dress length, easy!
[ Never mind that there are much easier ways to shorten the length of the dress... ]
[ Wouldn't be the first. Probably won't be the last, either. Chronically unable to back down, Lighter is drawn to the sensation of that glare. Enough to peel his eyes back open to meet it, the pinch of his brow somewhat... soft, despite himself. Cats can sure be scary. ]
If I had to say... [ Inhale, exhale. He finally dredges himself up, giving the back of his neck a rub. ] Actually, I'm not sure. But I know what I don't deserve.
[ His legs shift beneath the covers, edging towards the opposite edge of the bed to hopefully swing himself out of it without incident. ]
And that's to be in bed with someone who didn't sign up for it.
Used to? Ah, that's a shame. It's hard to find a sparring partner who boxes in this place apparently. I suppose I'll have to keep looking. [Wriothesley relents easy enough. If the other wasn't interested, then he certainly wasn't going to force their hand. He liked a good fight, but he wanted a good match where both of them had fun.]
My suite even. I don't know how you managed to get in here since I don't recall bringing anyone up with me, but this place does the impossible, so I'm not going to lament on it either. [Wriothesley carefully maneuvers the pillow away from Lighter's face, letting cool fingers brush against their forehead.]
That's to be expected. I imagine that you aren't used to ending up in a place that demands you sleep with every person you come in contact with. [He isn't going to fault them. Especially if they're new here.] It seems you had too good of a time though. There's food and drink and hopefully something to help with the hangover. Or is getting out of bed still out of the question?
[ so what she's getting at is w wants some tail. it's just too bad hers isn't tailfucking material but who knows, maybe where there's a will there's a way.
anyway wow. she's being spoiled spoiled. spoiled spoiled spoiled. the nice thing about eating pussy, besides the other hundred reasons why, is that it did actually slake her mouth a little more of those ashes. still, she finds her bastard heart skip several beats seeing w bleed both from mouth and that cumstained and now bloodstained box. her mouth nearly goes dry again. the sheer thirst and the thrill that she could really wound after all with that edge of the broken plastic knife. truly where there's a will there's truly a way. ]
Oh, no question. The only issue is when you're this much tastier a meal, I might just have to eat you every single day.
For hours, even. Every. Single. Day. [ especially if she cums gruesomely like this. it may as well be like blood in the water to a shark, her mouth is watering again until she has to wipe it, then wipe w's straight to her tongue. don't give her treats like this, she'll legitimately go insane. her tail is beating madly; she really has to make an effort to reel her thoughts in from trying to legitimate carve w up somehow, see how deep or real she can truly cut with this completely shitty unsatisfactory weapon.
but this much cutting will do. just maybe. she steals one more kiss with the deliberate slice of her teeth to coax just that much more blood onto her demanding tongue, her moan entirely deranged as that wolf's tongue goes to lick it straight from cuts, straight from w's teeth. well they're both infected. they're both going to die. what a nice game it would be if she could slice w's short or vice versa, just as long as it hurts.
and then she withdraws the knife, dripping disgustingly with the ungodly mix of both their body fluids. she lets a thick drip of it land straight to the loll of her tongue, her eyes fluttering in bliss, a heavy blush rising to her cheeks, ]
I still want one more, la mia bella stronza. Surely you can give me that.
I want one more of your holes. [ as her black claws stroke down to where w drips cum and blood in a trail to her asshole. ]
(luckily she knows not to keep latched down, but she can admit that she likes it. that sound she made and how ishmael's pulse quickened. her teeth let's go of the spot she clamped down on with a slow lick over it to soothe any pain. the predator role always fits her too well, a patient one that takes her time. she doesn't eat people alive. she almost surely wouldn't kill ishmael, either. there is that for them. she's not the sort to make it a business to end the lives of those that don't deserve it. they're strangers, but she's got a feeling they'll get along swimmingly.
once she's done soothing the bite (very much like a dog helping lick something better) she pulls away. tentatively. she must have wanted to leave more, hear more of those soft pretty moans. maybe even feel how fast her heart might get from a night alone. but that's not texas, that's more her stupid spade mark half pushing her over the thought she did find her cute. anyway, she can wait to hear ishmael's name after she recovers.)
Hope that wasn't too hard.
(she's considerate, observant of her partners for a reason. her bodily differences can make things interesting. maybe not as interesting as aak's since texas remembers he's completely furry.)
[ It shouldn't be weird. And when Dan Heng asks and she stops to think about it, it isn't weird. She'd trust anyone on the Express with anything, and they mean more to her than her own life. She'd never really hesitated to get changed in front of any of them before, but maybe it's the entire pretense about this resort that makes her a little...uncertain.
It's not an emotion she likes, especially around someone she trusts as much as Dan Heng. Puffing out her cheeks and blowing out a breath, she forges ahead, nodding. ]
Nope. Learn from my mistakes. Don't get your robe wet.
[ She hasn't averted her gaze away from him. She may be a little out of sorts, but she's shameless as ever! She rarely gets the chance to see Dan Heng not covered from head to toe. Let a girl enjoy a little disrobing. ]
[ She makes a fair enough point. Busy here probably isn't the same as busy in a more familiar setting, though he can see on his peripherals that there's some sort of... supplies, or gifts left for them. Maybe the former makes it sound too dire, but in all honesty, he feels pretty dire too.
Lighter's gaze still flicks upwards to the pale breadth of her palm, considering it at length. Lucky that he looks like hell in general right now, making the state of his eyes seem more natural. ]
Sure. [ His head tilts. ] What have you got in mind?
[ she's patient while he considers her palm, her expression still the same font of gentle serenity. she's used to it—the instinctual wariness, the suspicion. some of the soldiers they'd picked up along the way had regarded her with that same look in their eyes, weighing the merits of cutting their losses and losing a leg rather than let her stitch them back together with faith magic. in the end they'd relented, living to fight another day. ]
It's easy. [ a soft light gathers around her hand as she reaches over, her fingers settling gently over his cheekbone. her hands are smooth and delicate despite the blood they've been steeped in for the past five years, her touch feather-light. ] You just need to stay right there.
[ her thumb smooths over his brow in slow, gentle passes, like coaxing a child to sleep. soothing a headache doesn't take nearly as much as mending a limb, thankfully, and he'll feel nothing more than a cool tingle as the pain eases and then disappears entirely. ]
( ... well. if this man can't even fake enthusiasm, that makes him somewhat odder than most.
it should be dismissal. if he wants left alone, then she should give him that much. in the small amount of time that she's wandered, a handful of days really, she's come to understand that privacy might be a precious commodity here. no sense for disproportionate umbrage at a perceived snub when intimacy is currency you can request from a different seller. nothing to it. time to move on.
... but.
she lingers, nevertheless, her heels clicking on the marble tile as she turns and settles at a polite distance by his perch in this little alcove. her empty tray is brought to her chest not so much in modesty, but because she can tell enough from his fleeting gaze that it somehow makes him more comfortable to have her covered. most people here aren't shy about where their eyes land. the way his eyes settle on her face and look nowhere else is respectful, almost refreshing. )
Do you mind company? I was thinking I'd be allowed a break here and there.
( as she tilts her head at him with her photogenic smile, her hair falling too dark over her face to be this nostalgic, no wings to be seen besides those shabby ones taped to her back.
her finger lifts over her red painted mouth. )
I'll be completely quiet if you'd keep this a secret.
( it sounds like a joke: an empath willingly throwing himself into the parking garage with the emotions of all these newfound captives let loose. the dealers should reward him generously for the grand way he's about to screw himself over for putting himself right at the epicenter of fuck. the ground zero of spinning on it.
but the narrative digresses.
fair enough — this limousine seems like a decent choice in the line of vehicles he could experimentally jimmy to his heart's desire. the same tumult of human emotions that radiates from every newcomer is also present here: confusion, scandal, heartache, but therein lies the strangest rub...
by the time kizuna gets a passenger door open, there's just a single girl inside, scantily clad in a silken robe and holding her head and blinking owlishly as a mellowed peace saturates her in a glimmering vision of oscillating color. and thus, him too. )
Oh. Hello, good evening. Thank you for your assistance.
( —a frequency only interjected when another woman's speaking from... the driver's seat of the limo, the screen partition lowered enough for robin to peer in and smile congenially at the two passengers in the back. something practiced for the camera.
it's hard to tell with the barrier: there must be feathers lining the robe she wears. why else would there be so many of them lining the sides of her throat too?
... but it must pinprick something awful to kizuna's feelings if he stares at them too long, a little like the mortifying ordeal of being known. )
Rather than helping myself to the amenities, I don't suppose you can point me in the direction of the exit?
Raziel has been doing her share of cataloging what she comes across, mentally or in her book, and while there have been plenty of things that interest her or strike her as odd, very few are quite as intriguing as the woman standing across from her.
She'd noted the hands, but had assumed they were gauntlets or some other type of armor. Now that she's touching them, she feels the heat radiating from beneath the skin, in a way that's entirely atypical of skydwellers.
This woman... is she not human? A primal beast of some kind? Fascinating.
Raziel is so intently looking at Arlecchino's hands that she barely registers what the other woman is telling her.] Huh--? Oh- oh yes, that would be very kind, since- since enjoying it is the point of intimacy, isn't it?
[She watches as the woman dons the gloves. It's almost a disappointment.] ...my name is Raziel. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Arlecchino.
If you don't mind, may I ask about...? [She indicates the other woman's hands with a nod of her head.]
[Of all the Revans Mugen really is one of the more annoying ones... Haase 5* was such a gamechanger for real
Raziel's trusty pen is in her hands, and she taps the tip against her lips in thought listening to him as he outlines his particular ideas.
Her cheeks are slightly flushed with embarrassment; she's hardly a naive blushing bride and in her duties she has catalogued quite a few, ahem, more risque things... but it's always been part of her job, nothing more. Primals like her may be fully equipped and functional for intimacy, but they have no need of it.]
But what you're describing is wagering on something that could lead to intimacy. How would you make a wager on the act of intimacy itself? That's what I'm wondering.
Given how everything is here, I'm somewhat surprised we haven't seen that.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
goldmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
peacockstop2025-01-15 09:00 pm
Page 109 of 213