【 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.
( all the potential reasons that they've been kidnapped have run through harumasa's head on a sped-up carousel of repetition, all resulting in dissatisfying conclusions amounting to: this doesn't make sense. beyond that, he's having an increasingly more difficult time focusing. cold permeates straight through to his lungs, or so it feels. he shudders involuntarily, sighing with the same soft relief of the warmth from lighter's exhales before he adjusts their positions. for harumasa's part, he utters an inarticulate hum of 'sure that's fine' or so the impression goes. and it's easy, dangerously easy in fact, to let those multitudes of familiarity between them leading up to now, then pathway into how harumasa slips his thin arms up around lighter's neck to let himself burrow more against him. as if they're strays in an alley and not people in a luxury vehicle, but maybe the comparison isn't so far off, given said vehicle's apparent intent for freezing at least one of them out.
seems, harumasa, thinks sluggishly, like a lot of trouble to go through to kidnap two people like themselves. again, there are easier ways to kill at least one of them. but he keeps that repeated thought to himself, his eerily quiet smile tucked against the juncture of lighter's neck and shoulder where his delightful tiger print robe has gone just askew enough. if there were onlookers, it would seem more intimate than that, the kiss of a lover asking for more.
he thinks, based on everything he knows of lighter lorenz, everything he's gleaned or outright researched, this probably isn't comfortable. but the champion shoulders a sense of responsibility and stubbornness befitting of caesar's entourage. befitting too of someone with his background. a good person who, harumasa has discerned, does what he can. and it doesn't matter if lighter can't unload even a fragment his past; if one were to ask harumasa, he'd say well of course — no one can. it's part of him. bone and blood. fire.
but one will have to forgive harumasa for still seeing him as just a larger than usual cat, at times. the stray at home (harumasa hopes enough food is out), is a little like lighter too, though it's the one doing the curling around, tucked against harumasa's side like an anchor to living.
the thought now makes him laugh a little, puffs of shivering breath against lighter's neck, along with the brush of harumasa's eyelashes as he blinks, tucked so close as he is. it's easy to notice when despite the warmth lighter is trying to convey to him, the would-be inhale and exhale has paused. with his arms already over lighter's shoulders, the strain worth the increase in contact and therefore heat, it's easy for harumasa to draw circles against his nape with his fingertips, which turns quickly into petting: it's alright. relax.
he's not sure lighter can, but it's worth a shot. )
I guess I can trust my business partner.
( whether this is in regards to attempting to blow the doors off the car and pray it's not supernaturally reinforced to just microwave them instead, well, it's not entirely clear. on top of that, harumasa can't tell if he's imagining it: how with the increasing cold, there's an odd sort of scent. it's sharp, but not chemical. still, he prefers lighter, and instinctively presses his face more against his throat, even as one of his arms slides back down to rest motionlessly at his side, the other lightly hooked over lighter's shoulder still. lighter's warmth so-far has kept harumasa's body from shutting down entirely, but it's still getting colder. hazily, he half smiles against lighter's collarbone. is it too soon to make him promise to feed his cat, if...well...? probably. probably any time would be too soon.
he refrains for now, instead murmuring a little too slow and slurred, )
Mmn...I could also try....
( the arm limp at his side lifts and reaches blindly for the door handle closest, faint crackles of electricity making the scent in the air morph again confusing. unconsciously, harumasa tries to press his body even closer than it already is to lighter, desperate to fend off the chill. at the same time, he pushes electricity through himself as a conduit, but it seems to diffuse before actually connecting with the car. harumasa's body seizes at the same time, and the hand still curled now at lighter's shoulder, grips perhaps a bit too hard, his chest heaving with the effort to breathe normally. it's not really a laugh, too weak, but harumasa's lightheartedness is a relentless thing as he murmurs, )
[ marco starts a little. of the slew of information he'd thrown at her, he had 't expected that that would be her initial takeaway. it leaves him a little speechless for a moment, one of his hands even trailing up to cover that mark of his as if in guilt... ]
No, [ he says before too long, ] no that's not the case, I.
[ certainly he's got people he can rely on. many of the players he's come to know her are generous and understanding; they're all suffering under the same plight, after all... but. ]
I don't... [ hm. that is— ] I would rather not trouble anyone, until I have to.
[ he drops his hand, giving the mark a critical look. ]
I have some time yet. [ a week, perhaps. two if he's lucky. ] Don't worry about me.
[ pls??? she's the new arrival here, certainly she should focus more on gathering her bearings.
ah, speaking of— ]
I didn't introduce myself, I'm sorry. My name is Marco.
( there's a quick second where something more genuine flashes in aventurine's face, at being called dangerous. he had expected anything else, and there's something unfortunately real in that word that forces a particular kind of smile to appear on his face, the one that can't help but submit to his fate, but it disappears soon after, replaced by the usual smile he wears around people. the one trained to be everything but a window into his real feelings. )
Hahah, scared I'll eat you up? ( almost the more curious side of him inquiring, and it only motivates aventurine to do more.
it takes a bit of readjusting from his legs, finding support where it can, to start pushing his hips far up, then slowly back down. that alone steals a long and deep moan from aventurine, enjoying the feeling of rude inside of him, filling him to the brim. it doesn't take much to find himself a consistent rhythm, and this time aventurine is deliberate in how lewd the sounds coming out from him are, though genuine all the same, but he doesn't hold back his whimpers and moans. )
It's really hard to place doubt in those encouraging words, paired along with that easy grin. Unless he's a really good actor... yeah. He almost doesn't know what to do with such honest support, a part of him embarrassed, but mostly appreciative, especially as that lingering feeling of loneliness that he's been carrying fades. Something eases in Scott's expression, before he finally starts to smile back.]
Yeah, I'd like that.
[It really means a lot to feel normal. Usually it's him that's pulling the other mutants around to hang out, but he's been a little out of his element since coming here. It's kind of nice to have someone take that first step.
Some of that initial shyness fades, replaced by something a little more confident. He's feeding off a little of Akira's energy, but it's clear he's gotten more comfortable with him.]
[ Definitely new here. This place couldn't be trusted to play fair, but if it decided to follow certain rules for its "games", they would be followed. Xue Yang would love to figure out just how someone or something could do that; even gods back where he's from probably weren't so powerful that they could do things like determine lie from truth with absolute certainty. But the explanation and methods, like many other things, have remained elusive up to this point despite his attempted investigations.
And that isn't what he needs to focus on right now.
He's up in a single motion, hand lightly tapping on top of the table to launch his whole body over it, avoiding any collision as the object sails underneath him. There's no hesitation as he makes his own attack in response. The momentum might not quite make sense but he pushes himself off the table with that hand and manages to propel himself forwards rather fast with it, his own foot aiming for Vanitas's chest. ]
[HAH. that's the spirit. Akira snorts as he finally hops out of bed, hands linked and raised above his head in a biiiiig stretch]
Yeah, maybe in your dreams.
[it's nice to know that despite the uncertainties. . . there's still a part of Scott that is willing to bite, however gently, however playfully. he seems like a guy who has a lot on his shoulders-- not just here, at the resort, but. . . at home as well. and if Akira is good for anything, he thinks it's being a shoulder to lean on when things get rough]
I'm Kurusu Akira, by the way. But just Akira is fine.
[a beat. and then, cheekily]
No point in using formalities when we have officially shared a bed.
Yes, a lot of the way anyone may or may not react is dependent on rank. For me, they avoid me because of my standing being second lowest.
(though he's helpful, despite it. being restricted to the basement levels of just about anything provided him with more knowledge on how they mistreat those unfortunate, but that's nothing that he can fix aside from trying to move up the ranks. failing at it if he were honest, on top of that given circumstances are not in his favor. his heart mark is covered up mostly, but it's clearly saturating.
which means that it's only a matter of time. the comment about the restaurants distracts karna from thinking about it further, since they're all trapped in the casino for now....that means exploring is off the table. exploring the other areas, anyway. karna personally did consider taking her around later when given the opportunity as a means of allowing the young woman to have that chance to get acclimated with everything.)
It is. Since I do not have a kitchen in my suite or access to one, I eat there primarily when I can help it. Truly, I am not that fazed by the environment due to my circumstances. The issue is more that I dislike the hedonism and debauchery.
(not that karna couldn't understand that, he much more prefers something humble over glamour.)
[ Thank goodness he’s managed to summon up a bed of flowers underneath her—all roses and lavender, naturally—as he finally sits up with a sigh, the blanket slipping off of him to reveal that he’s very much in the nude.
He knows he barely drank any alcohol at all, but apparently what little he’d had during this whole party is enough to give him one hell of a headache as he glances down over to her side of the bed with a smile, slipping on his glasses to get a better look at whoever he ended up in bed with this time around.
…No, he doesn’t remember going to bed with her. Not that he particularly minds, in any case. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d woken up with a surprise bedmate, though this is the first time said bedmate has attempted to flee from him…
Come on, Hamel. At least wait until he threatens to experiment on you first… ]
[ Xue Yang bursts into laughter as he watches the man go down and then whine about it. That was in fact exactly as hilarious as he thought it would be. ]
What was that? Are you even a cultivator? [ Xue Yang sits back and crosses his arms, then gives Wei Wuxian a small nudge with the toe of his boot. ] Of course it's not fair. It's because life's not fair that I kill people. If everything were fair, why would any of them need to make up for a mistake worth more than their lives? They just wouldn't have done whatever they did in the first place.
[ He goes to kick a bit harder the second time. ]
Are you gonna keep going, or do I get another turn?
[it's a lot easier to determine truth from lie if you simply believe everyone's a two-faced liar in the first place. only goody-two-shoes vomit up crap they call "truth" when it's nothing more than feelings and thought they think'll make themselves feel better. surface level bullshit true only to one person. everything else is a lie waiting to happen. peace? agreement? fairness? truth? all of it corrodes into lies the moment a certain limit's reached and "self" erupts as the only star in their goddamn sky. why the hell would he believe anything someone says?
seems this bastard's got some skill. completely missing the table by vaulting clear over it. a soft grunt notes annoyance and he sweeps his hand, fingers curled around the handle o-
handle?]
Wha-?
[it's not appearing? his head jerks to his hand for a split second, stunned at something. impact right in his chest, slamming into something amazingly solid and stubborn. pain blooms across his sternum, little more than an ache, yet it's enough. wind rushes past his head before his back hits a machine behind, sending up a cacophony of lights and noise. so that happened... they really think it's over with this?
shadows pulse and leak around his body and he sinks both gloved hands straight into the slot machine. glass cracks as punches through its face, metal bending on its sides, those pretty little noises distort when he twists and pitches the entire thing overhead towards xue yang.]
( a sobering answer, albeit along the lines of what he would have expected. were it so easy to simply reverse the condition, then surely it would not be so discriminated against to begin with. and yet it still seems unfair, unjust.
to be labeled sinner or corruptor simply due to external factors....no, he can't say he agrees with it. )
I see. Thank you for the explanation.
( for humoring him in this morose conversation in the middle of a lively party. truly, he is ill-suited to be a party-goer. )
Though I would like to say something, if I may. The role of any judge is to remain impartial, and to deliver a fair verdict after all truths are revealed, regardless of how many layers of deception obscure that truth from view. And I believe the truth of the matter here is that you are no sinner simply for being afflicted with a malady for which there is no cure.
( whether or not she's committed other crimes is another matter entirely. although: )
Even were you a criminal, our pasts do not always define who we wish to be in the present, and you have shown no ill-will or malice towards anyone at this party thus far. Therefore, there should be no conflict of interest in me tendering aid to you.
( dear mods, if you're reading this: please make him a 2.
but her tongue-in-cheek reply does earn a smile from him, along with a raise of one arm in preparation for a small twirl in tune with the music. )
But of course. It would be the least I could offer in repayment of your generosity thus far.
( she is welcome to his bathrooms at any time should he be so lucky as to acquire himself a suite with a personal bathroom attached. provided, of course, she gives some advance notice first. )
Do you still practice astrology here in the resort?
( can he still read her columns in his free time )
Yes, I arrived just recently, though I was not alone when I first woke up.
( in the backseat of a 'car' with an unfamiliar but polite young man. not the usual way he greets his early mornings, but he'd come out of the whole experience unscathed and judging from his even tone of voice, the incident hadn't seemed to ruffle him much. )
I have since met up with a few whose names I recognize; those from my 'world', so to speak. Though I am told that is not always the norm for those who arrive here.
( maybe that's what prompts him to make his next offer, the knowledge that he at least has acquaintances here he can rely on while she might not. )
Perhaps it is presumptuous of me to offer ( especially when they're complete strangers ) but if there is anything I can do to put you more at ease then, within reason, I would be happy to offer my aid.
( although he has so little to offer here - no power, no wealth, no experience - that perhaps making the offer in the first place is entirely moot. )
... or not. There's no telling whether the staff would've offered them a private room if he'd been giving the newbie a piggyback ride. With Kabru's legs locked around his waist, they came across more like two people amorously entwined, leaving the crowd so they can consummate their love. (Or lust.) That misconception wound up playing to their advantage. All's well that ends well!
Not that anything has "ended" yet. Kabru's condition sure hasn't, as it's still giving him trouble.
Hiyori hears the door shut behind them; the "nice" staff member must have closed it. He hopes, sincerely, that the door doesn't lock from the outside. But he's got bigger concerns at the moment, as the new boy proceeds to levitate right off the couch, clutching his shirt again. Still having problems with gravity!]
Yep, I can see that!
[Hiyori's hands find their way to Kabru's shoulders automatically, pushing down. But when he tries to think of a solution, well... there's only one that springs to mind immediately.]
Mind if I sit on your lap?
[He decides to come right out and ask it. He doesn't sound awkward or embarrassed, at least, despite his lack of enthusiasm about Game 52 and the aphro and other things around here.]
I wouldn't normally ask, but that seems like the safest way to keep you anchored. And I'm nice and light like a feather, so it shouldn't be too uncomfortable.
[Some of his fans would kill for this opportunity.]
Miss Ishmael, then. ( the words are accompanied by a polite incline of his head. ) In return, you may refer to me as Neuvillette.
( no point in bringing titles into the mix, especially when said titles hold no sway here in this place. all that matters is the rank and suit he will be given once his status as a wildcard is cleared. )
As for your question, are you referring to the question printed on the card or something else?
That's where communication can be very important. Obviously, the fact we're all forced to be here against our will makes even the choices we do make for ourselves questionable... but I think we're all just trying to make the best of what we're given.
[ he pauses, glancing off to the side. it's never great to be the bearer of bad news... but he wouldn't feel good about leaving reno in the dark either. ]
There will be times where even talking about it beforehand might be difficult. Food and drinks could be spiked, your suit could activate... any number of things could keep you from being completely sensible.
[ a sigh. ]
I hate to say it, but it seems like the safest way to keep your wits about you is to simply comply, and make the best of the situation while you can.
[ The cliché is “I’ve woken up in stranger places”, but honestly, no. This is definitely the strangest of the bunch, and that’s a situation with some fierce competition, considering her line of work. However, what is familiar is being in the back of a police car. That’s also how all of her jobs end up at one point or another.
She’s awfully calm about all of it, though, even as she tries the door and finds it locked. With an appraising little hum, she shifts and plucks at her sheer robe as she appraises it and to hike it up in the back a little to give her tail more room to move. ]
for fellow newbies
[ Luckily, she’s not alone in here. Her new best friend is just on the other side of the separator, so she leans forward in her seat to the grate and taps at the plastic sliding window. ]
Hello, officer.
[ …Not that she actually thinks they are, considering they’re just as much in a state of undress. It would be funny if they were, though. ]
for passersby
[ Or maybe you’ve already escaped your car prison or are just wandering around the garage to see what’s up. Either way, the manual windows at least come down enough for Jane to call out, but alas, a police car doesn’t quite roll down enough for the person in the back to, you know. Maybe make an escape. ]
Hey there~ Help a girl out?
[ And she is very, very intentionally angling herself in such a way that the sheerness of her robe leaves nothing about her chest to the imagination. Look, if it takes appealing to peoples’ basic instincts, it works just fine. ]
ii. 𝓭𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓭𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓲𝓽 𝓷𝓸
[ It might not be over the top glam, but Jane just feels more comfortable not drowning herself in jewels. Otherwise, though? She has no problems with the dress code, since she doesn’t want to stand out too much. So she might not be drowning in bling, but the low-cut, high-slit dress still makes a strong first impression. She’s all confidence and presence as she takes a seat at the table with an elegant swish of her tail to get it out of the way to sit comfortably. ]
Hi.
[ Her voice is low and sultry, and after a moment of eye contact, she turns her attention down at the dice. She laughs a little to see the faces (that explains a lot), but reaches out with a manicured finger to roll one of them playfully. ]
Want to play?
iii. 𝓵𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓷𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻
[ …Well. Considering the options on the wheel, how could she not give it a spin? It’s mostly just amusing to see what it might end up on. Honestly, she didn’t have any plans to use it so immediately, but as it turns out, them’s the rules.
So. It’s good luck that it’s her favorite. ♥
Whether they’d had a nice conversation and she’d casually asked or if they’d just been curious and/or eager right away, it leads to the same place. There’s a nice, private bedroom, and Jane stands in front of the mirror as she tightens a strap on her accompanying harness. The translucent purple dildo wiggles at the adjustment, and it’s easy to see that this is not the first time this woman has gotten strapped up.
She's briefly preoccupied with her own preparations, but she does feel her volunteer's eyes on her... So she looks their way with a sly smile. ]
Oh, I guess I should have asked. Have you done this before?
iv. 𝓲𝓬𝓮𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓻
[ Or, if you’re in the mood for a more typical game, Jane is trying out the cards too. At least this one isn’t quite so charged, but she also can’t help but be interested in this one. She’s nosy, when it comes down to it.
Jane takes a card from the tower with delicate and deft care, and it barely wobbles from the disturbance. She watches it for just a moment more to make sure that doesn’t end the game, but satisfied, she looks at the card and reads it off. ]
“What skill do you believe everyone should possess, regardless of their profession?”
[ She reads it off, but then raises her hand towards her mouth thoughtfully. Jane at least takes this seriously enough, since so far, it’s nothing so sensitive that she feels like it’s better to lie. ]
…How to talk to people. Just being able to connect quickly will get you far in life. [ Though, having said that, she laughs lightly. ] Or just make strange situations like this easier.
𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓭
The generic toss me something else if none of these work/ooc notes! aka skitters in extremely late... not planning on apping this round (obviously) but giving jane a shot with some really excellent-for-her prompts to see if I might bring her next time! some notes/prefs:
— jane is bisexual with a moderate preference for women and strong preference for topping. ♥ — since it might not be clear in her icons, she's a rat kemonomimi, so she has cute mouse ears and a tail she's happy to tease with — 18+ for smut! — kinkwise, you can find my catchall prefs here. if something's not listed, I'm probably down for it! — otherwise if you have questions feel free to DM this journal
( it's funny, in a way, to see his own tricks turned on him. conversation is an easy tool, yet only the most skilled can manipulate words in a way that keeps the focus on someone else, or takes advantage of their own lack of modesty. he's met more people in this resort that like to talk about themselves than not; no matter how useful, it's information, and he's coveted information ever since he'd left the safety of that youth hospital and struggled on his own on the streets. yet this girl is different: this girl wants to turn it back on him, which is so wholly unfamiliar that he almost smiles. almost.
instead, he lifts his glass, pressing it to his mouth for one smooth swallow--when he sets it back down again, he abandons the side of it, moving instead so that he can pry one of his cigarettes away from his crumpled box. )
Got kicked out of the casino for awhile. It's quieter here.
( a curt explanation, but it's enough to prove that he isn't fully unwilling to talk--just that he might be more unwilling to divulge anything more meaningful.
with the cigarette between his lips, he lights it the same as hers: theatrical, but at least it's easer than tracking down a lighter. )
Asking me who I was 'running from' is interesting, you know. ( the smoke dwindles past his lips as he takes a drag, though he directs it towards the bar. ) That mean you were running from someone, before you ended up here?
( just a guess that he hazards out--because no matter what the answer is, it'll teach him something new about her. )
Better tell me your name, so I know who to lie about when they come asking.
( there's a flagrant roll of his eyes, but it's mostly in jest--he's leaning his back against the door, both hands sliding down to hook into his pockets; he just wants to leave his weight there for a moment, in case they're pursued. with a tilt of his head, he listens for any sound of a scuffle outside the door, but he can't really hear anything that belies a threat.
with a slow breath in through his nose, and then out, he pushes off the door. )
So you're one of those mages, or whatever. ( not a word that he's picked up from his own home, but rather, a word that he's learned from being here; there's a nod to his chin at her, as though in indication, though there's no one else in the room. )
Gonna cast some spell on me?
( a half-hearted smile, almost a smirk, as he looks to her again, and then slides further into the room; there's the standard golden peacock fare, here, tables of toys and lubricant and condoms and towels, but there's also a vanity, if she wants to check her hair in the mirror.
on his part, he's scoping out the room for a mini fridge, or at the very least, a bucket of champagne. )
( the mirror gets flagged up, and then immediately down--mostly so that he can look across the table, brows lifted, as though the thought had never occurred to him. )
Why would we bother anyone? Unless Shouko-chan is in there.
( he's not the type of person to start sticking his nose into everyone's business if there isn't a reason for it; for strangers, even less so. his usual dealings with large groups of women involve them all fawning and swooning for him, and while he's not quite sure the maid getup suits him, he doesn't think he looks half-bad. if anything, he thinks it's more likely that they'll be bothered: but he doesn't mind that, either.
with a slow smile, he shakes his head a little, lifting the mirror again. )
...My friend. Shouko-chan. Other than that, I just want to eat chocolate-covered strawberries and relax.
( in the end, he decides the sunglasses don't really go with the vibe--so he's peeling them off with a sigh, folding them up and setting them, and the hand mirror, on the table again. it's the full force of vibrant blue eyes, then, sizing marco up: )
Do you need help? Don't bust the zipper or we'll get in trouble.
( there's something almost romantic, as nanami's hand slips over his--almost like he wants to hold it, and not like he's only draping it there out of circumstance. years of experience stretch between them, and though nanami had always been handsome in his youth, his features have filled out more here, accentuating sharper angles and the disapproving curve of his mouth. has he done something like this before? sat at a bar, holding hands with a date, ordering them drinks? the thought makes him smile, too, something actually genuine; his head tilts, back towards the bar, and then towards nanami again after the order.
he actually hasn't had a chocolate martini yet, so he trusts nanami's judgement. maybe he can just add extra chocolate, if it tastes bad.
his hand shifts, lifting slightly up under nanami's palm, but only so that he can start to snag his fingers in between nanami's, threading them together, knuckle to knuckle. )
Are you ordering me around? ( with a gasping tease, but he does as he's told: his chin tilts in his own palm, letting the six eyes calculate their findings out across the whole of the party; there are plenty of private rooms, apparently, which he'd figured would be the case, but he's now trying to decide if he should lie and pick somewhere relatively populated, or not.
another glance towards their hands-- )
We can get a room. There are a lot of them that don't have anyone using them. ( his mouth is still tugged up into a smile, even as the bartender returns with their order; the next question seems out of the blue, but it follows his train of thought. ) Do you do stuff like this often? Going out to bars, holding hands, going home to get all hot and heavy.
( his shoes skid--they're expensive, shiny, the sort of thing he would wear only to some silly sorcerer gala, or the usual parade of the gojou clan heir around to other clans, showing off pristine goods; even here, they've gotten little use, sticking instead to sneakers and boots as though it helps him feel more at home. he lets shouko drag him closer, lets her plant herself right in front of him, and with a dramatic gasp, he flings both of his arms up into the air like he's being arrested; his fingers stretch out, palms splayed.
her fumbling and tugging at his belt is quick and succinct, in a way that's almost sexy--but then she's always been like this, focused to a fault, cutting through his bullshit like a knife through warm butter. eventually, his arms lower, hands sliding down to just barely ghost over her bare shoulders; he's never felt odd about touching her like this until now, with the resort putting them in this position.
and he's not going to be ashamed that her feeling around for his zipper does get a little puff of interested breath; her fingers brush against him through the fabric.
--it's the sudden rush of cooler air on his bare thighs, pants sunk down around his ankles, that has him tensing up. )
You... ( he starts, stops, deflates; with a push of bemused breath, he hobbles in a small little circle, turning around so that he can bend, leisurely, against the edge of the table--if he's going to be humiliated like this, then he should try to make it look good. his underwear's tight around his ass, cutting into the backs of his thighs; he even gives a little theatrical wiggle, as though encouraging. )
( there's an appalling rush of breath, like he doesn't quite believe it--but as he's looking down the line of gladiolus' jaw, considering, he can see that there's actually more growth here than he expects. maybe he's just gotten too complacent, staring up at gladiolus in the shadows of his room; maybe it's just he really does have so little concept of how quickly facial hair grows when he barely gets any to begin with. his lips press together, considering; his thumb pushes up on the razor's power button, humming it to life.
well, a month is fine. they've got months upon months in this place, stuck almost in a permanent limbo, and nothing has changed, really, except a few odd moments of disrepair--maybe they just have to wait out the storm, let the resort consume itself before spitting them back out into their own worlds.
his hold on gladiolus' chin is firm, at least, sliding forward on his thigh on purpose--his back arches, skimming the razor gently down from gladiolus' sideburns, trimming one layer down his jaw. )
Doesn't bother me. My face won't get all itchy when you kiss me.
( a wolfish sort of smile, but his concentration is on the work at hand; he's not quite practiced with this thing yet, so it takes a few passes to start to smooth the hair down to nothing on this side. )
Besides, you like it. ( this: whether that means the maid outfit, the shaving, or his weight on his thigh. ) Right~?
[That emotional resonance nearly stills him in place like tar around his feet — he has not felt his sister's interior world since they were children, when it was normal for them to share everything with each other, their experiences jointly had. Even upon his last goodbye she was as opaque to him as a sky without stars, everything below the surface finely tuned. He wonders when that became the expectation between them. Perhaps she would have reached out, if he'd allowed it, but their separation demanded further distance instead.
Have they spent more of their lives, now, apart than together?
She will find his own emotions — quieter. Except for that first harsh pluck of a discordant string, the dread and uncertainty combined in the realization of her presence here, Sunday marshals himself. He's had plenty of practice at it, and perhaps such a habit is more difficult to break even afterward. Even in the wake of his great failure. Perhaps it is even more extreme, to show that he has stood back up and continued on as she'd wished for him.
An empty bedroom he does find, as it seems this place holds no lack of them. The guard has let them go unimpeded. In a strange moment of courtesy, he holds the door for her to enter first ahead of him, and if Robin looks at him she'll find his eyes diverted, his face downturned.
The room isn't large, but there's a chaise and a dresser, a vanity, a standing mirror... and the bed, which Sunday pointedly ignores. There's a fake window as well, guised to appear as if they're in the forest surrounded by trees. There's the distant sounds of birdcall far off somewhere.]
How long have you been here?
[Please sit down and are you okay? are competing in his mind — but instead he chooses this, somehow tenuously between both, a question that burns out of his throat.]
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peacockstop2025-01-15 09:00 pm
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