【 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.
[ He could probably just call him Wei. It's his last name but, hey, it works.
But for now, he'll let himself be led and notices the same issue Sylvain does when they get there. Huh. Sure is crowded in here. When Sylvain sits regardless, Wei Wuxian does wonder if he should stand next to him when — oh.
He's pulled forward, into Sylvain's lap and it's surprise enough to get him to laugh, a little amused, a lot delighted. What a fun day this is turning out to be. Wei Wuxian shifts to straddle him comfortably, letting his arms loop around Sylvain's neck and hang off his shoulders, fingers idly threading through the back of Sylvain's soft hair to pet him gently. Ruse or not, Wei Wuxian is enjoying himself.
He gives a thoughtful look at the question and opts for — ]
Something sweet, I think. Sweet and crisp, if there's an option like that.
[ Well. At least he made Xue Yang laugh, though what he says next is kind of. Uh. Hm. Yeah. Part of him wants to argue, to point out the hypocrisy in Xue Yang's words but he's also well enough aware that Xue Yang knows the hypocrisy but doesn't care. So, he just winces at the second kick and shifts to push himself off the ground. ]
I'm going, I'm going. Just — give me a second.
[ Lifting himself up off the ground along with his chair, he stands up and straightens out his clothes before sitting back down. Alright, back to the game. Less talk about killing people. He picks up the dice and rolls them.
First one is fondle and Wei Wuxian is grimacing already when the second lands on chest. Okay, not the worst combo in the world and he can manage it. ]
Okay. C'mere.
[ He's reaching out with his hands, jerking his chin towards Xue Yang's chest. ]
— And, well. You really don't remember me, right? No clue who I am? [ . . . ] I'm not a Chang, so you don't need to get revenge on me.
[ The offer to help comes and he feels a beat of gratitude in response. He hasn't had too difficult a time getting up to speed on the differences of this world and his own, but if this man is someone like him, if this man is Xiao Xingchen, then that would be an even better help than anything else.
So, he nods before remembering himself and speaks aloud instead. ]
It's very strange here, compared to where I come from. We don't have... most of what's considered normal here. Very different worlds altogether.
[ A pause, he eats some congee before finally just offering — ]
[ That. Is a little bit of a weird way to phrase that but Wei Wuxian doesn't judge him for it. Just takes it in and keeps it moving. This game is a great way to get to know people though and he's enjoying himself a lot!
Especially since it seems like he and Kabru are on the same wavelength. He likes it, and he's interested to get to know this guy some more.
Which means, he nods eagerly at the suggestion. ]
Only way to make it fair, right? We're still playing the game but if it's an embarrassing question, then at least you won't feel left out.
[With breakfast finished and a plan somewhat made between them, Scott soon gets up from the bed as well, stretching just briefly before turning to face Akira with that more relaxed smile. It's small, but genuine, and for a few seconds, he thinks that maybe dealing with last night wasn't so bad if he was able to connect with the other teen.
He's being dumb. Since when did he want friends and become attached to others so quickly?]
Scott Summers. [He responds-- before immediately snorting, covering all thoughts with the return of something snarky.] And here I thought it was because we shared chocolate and eggs together.
[ even in their little trip back to volsinii that was more than enough for her to press her ear back to the grapevine of the homeland. the discontent that the famiglia wolves had, the shackles or leashes of control the signora had over the famiglie, over the country. she’d never consider her a famiglia wolf again, but she knew there was a truth to, if anything, the wilderness or desolation that she turned to outside the city…
every touch, every nip of teeth has a shiver run harsh down her spine. her ears nearly bend back, a whine nearly rising in her throat; not even exactly from submission, just from… want. the desire of her entire life. she didn’t care about being a famiglia wolf, they were both born into the life, but she only wanted— ]
I’m saying, [ her voice a low snarl, her own hand suddenly fisting into texas’ hair, claws cutting towards her scalp. the other hand going to texas’ shirt to start cutting the threads of her buttons, to start undoing the vest and blouse with careless or deliberate shreds of her claws, ] You ran and you still run from everything. You’re a creature who gets going when the going gets tough! [ it’s accusatory, but it’s the truth. she knows it most of all of anyone in the world, as someone who’d always chased her. ] Real wolves might just fight and bite and tear the throat out of anyone who stands in their way—
You didn’t even do just that. [ that day, back before the fire. she’s over it, she really is, she could think as such but maybe she can’t help it if it’s the most defining moment of her life. just about the most beatific moment she thought she could give texas everything, and then she was rejected.
her clutch into texas’ hair tightens; as much as she wants to bite her neck, she wants, so badly, absolutely everything of texas and from texas. the infatuation that defined her. she’d fantasize of pinning texas down or having texas nip her neck just like this… it’s almost everything she wanted but accepted wouldn’t happen. she could imagine texas sinking her teeth in and her legs tremble with how much she desires just that—but her grip in texas’ hair holds her back from doing just that, yet. ]
[if it's any consolation, aki's hands were busy working on someone else's clothes. unless he wants to use his damn teeth for his own, they're staying on until he's done or his partner rips them off at the same time in a tangled mess of limbs. tempting to do the latter; already half naked and his tongue won't stop fucking moving in his mouth from the sight.
what the hell's this guy staring at? his scars? can't be the first time aki's seen someone with healed wounds before. enough decorate the hunter's body to tell him that. red eyes wander between them, flicking from a cut to a curve of defined muscle to a burn to a plane of toned skin to a pale tear to a shapely arch of pelvis above the stupid hem of his pants. attractive enough he's interested in pulling everything off, screw what initial hands-off plan aki had when he first came in here. the only thanks his clothes are getting is being a tether catalyst for hauling the hunter into his space and making it clear what he wants. taking control of his own decisions. not cause the damn hotel told him to, but because he fucking wants it.]
Thanks for the warning. [boring] Prove it and I'll kick you out the fucking door. [elbows dig into soft fabric, radiating lines as he craters the bedding to prop himself up and watch a good show. shoes fall away from the bed's rim, pants slide down aki's legs, belt pulled free after the man's already slipped out of his slacks (kinda cute and stupid), and his briefs lastly, leaving him naked without seeming to care. hmph. nothing impressive. whatever he did in his line of work gave him more than scars. lines and curves of toned strength under light skin suggest an active lifestyle if not focused intent. this isn't the work of some damn bodybuilder pumping up for a stupid underwear catalog.
as aki settles on the bed, he shoves down with his elbows and pushes himself further up it, digging a heel into the mattress rim to heave himself to center bed proper. a small bounce sends his back arching for a moment before he drops flush to the comforter and stretches out, one hand gripping the headboard and pulling to stretch his arm. aki has to chase him up there if he wants to drop the damn thing on his hardened stomach. as the hunter messes with a bottle of lube, he picks up the stupid pink rod and scowls at it, inspecting the thing like it's some problem mocking his face. and tosses it to the side above his shoulder opposite aki for the time being.]
Good. [strong and smart, huh. attractive. red eyes narrow in a swift snap, catching aki's bare smile swimming through his blue irises. hmph. stretch him or not?] You're not cramming that thing in there raw, idiot. [this is supposed to feel good. he props rolls onto his side, head propped on his hand, and makes it obvious he's looking aki over. head to foot, naked and pretty damn handsome too...] Don't take too long. I'm not some damn bird for basting.
[ at the end of the day, it's all about survival, isn't it? they all must learn to adapt; some may achieve that quicker than others, just as some who would prefer to observe may not always have that luxury. such is the nature of this place. but neither of them are the kind of people who would settle for being in a position of defeat, and as strange as it may be, a part of her is interested to see how arlecchino's stay will turn out: whether she will aim to raze the resort to the ground before she secures herself at the top of the ranks. ]
Quite. As well as the fact that you and I are both here at the same time. [ if the resort was aiming to cripple fontaine's defenses, taking her and wriothesley out of the picture would be more than sufficient. bringing the knave as well doesn't align. ] There's something else they stand to gain.
[ what that is, she hasn't figured out yet. for now, she leans back in her seat, the hand at arlecchino's jaw falling away. but clorinde's hand remains on her knee, waiting to see what combination arlecchino rolls next. ]
[ He'd deliberately chosen a table out of the way and started scrolling through his Watch to avoid drawing any attention, hoping to skate by for a while and get a few minutes of quiet to himself before getting dragged back into this mess of a party, and Fuuta can't help giving an exasperated little huff when someone takes the seat opposite him. Can nobody here read the room? Isn't he radiating blatant enough 'leave me alone' vibes?
At least he refrains from immediately saying anything shitty when he looks up to see who's claimed that seat. -- not a familiar face. But also, more importantly, she, uh, sure is a lot to look at. ]
... sure. [ He'd been quiet for a moment, cautiously looking her over, but Fuuta shifts to sits properly after a moment as he rests his arms on the tabletop and props his chin up on a hand. Is he a little intimidated by her aura? ... yes. But also, there's no way he's going to let that show, and so here Fuuta is, feigning casual to the best of his abilities. ] Guess I might as well, since the staff'll probably come bothering me if they see me sitting by myself too long. Those annoying assholes.
[ Wow, how charming! It's still just as growly and brusque when he adds, ]
[NO MATTER WHERE YUSUKE GOES HE IS ALWAYS BROKE. . .]
[. . . though the comment about being picky gives Akira pause, because it makes him realize. . . he actually has no idea what Yusuke looks for in a partner. it had simply never crossed his mind before now, busy as they were back home conquering Palace after Palace, slicing through Shadow after Shadow. Akira had never entertained the idea of relationships and intimacy when it came to his team. . . not because he hadn't noticed his thieves in that manner, of course. most of them (Yusuke included) had given Akira pause at least once or twice, allowing him to nurture a fleeting thought, a momentary curiosity, before he'd let it go to drift off in the wind like a wayward butterfly, never to be seen again]
[he always felt as though he had no need for anything more than the support and friendship of his team. they were his cohorts and co-conspirators; the people who had given his life meaning. was there anything more precious in the world than that?]
[this place. . .]
[. . . well. it makes him wonder. and for once, he cups that butterfly gingerly between his palms, and he contemplates. . .]
[does Yusuke like to hold hands? is he content to sit in silence, or would he rather fill the void with comfortable chatter? does he prefer a bit of build up beforehand, or would he rather skip the formalities? that captivating look he has when he is painting a subject, that intense gaze of his that seems to strip whatever he captures in his art down to its barest parts, soul exposed. . . is that only for art, or—]
[Akira doesn't wear his thoughts on his sleeve, but a light dusting of pink blossoms on his features too. he cuts through the flush with a sharp grin, fingers snagging at Yusuke's as he joins their hands together like it's the most natural thing in the world]
I bet you and I could run a damn good hustle in the casino, if we wanted.
["get dressed," Akira had said, except. . . does he even have anything to wear other than the fancy suit he was shoved into the night before?? kind of the hotel staff to hang it up neatly for him when they played swaparoo with his room. he supposes it'll do, but he is making a mental note to buy some more casual clothes the very first moment he can]
Ah. Good point.
Rank one was the bed, and rank two was the chocolate and eggs.
[irritation, jealousy, despise, annoyance, selfishness, so many negative emotions swirl and rise within a single group of people at one table alone. all because of him. how fitting. unaware of what they're even producing with such shallow pathetic hearts. it'd be nothing to craft unversed from their emotions and sic the entire lot on them. kick back and watch their own creations rip them apart and ruin their sad miserable little lives.
his thoughts abruptly skewer through a brilliant laugh, shaking him from his ire. lights reflect in his helm as he turns his head, regarding this strange guy beside him. does nothing bother him? ... no, it's the opposite. covering up his own impatience with these people via mirth one part charming, one part mocking. young and proud. no one would dig so hard into someone's ribs accidentally. does he think he's being helpful? possibly, though it sends those emotions churning anew around them.
these plastic chips and cards mean nothing to him, but if it'll piss off the people at the table, then he's taking them.] Hey old man. Gonna need a bag or something. [extending his arm, he gestures with two curled fingers, accenting his expectant demand. does it look like he has pockets on this thing? a quick snatch yanks his impressive-looking embossed fabric pouch from the table dealer's fingers and a rattling clatter of fake "cash" sees all of it dumped inside. he lifts his gaze to the woman who seems the most disgusted with his victory, and raises the bag up by the neck, level with his own throat. then jerks the drawstring tight with his free hand, throttling it, and earning her sudden jump.] Hahahaha.
[oh he really wants to. let her shudder instead. content, he tosses his winnings up and down in his free hand, intending to turn and leave. until a pair of hands catches his shoulders and tries to pull him. his head snaps around fast enough to crack his spine, and blinding reaction rams his elbow straight towards the other guy's stomach. no pulled punches, he fully intends to rearrange his organs with that blow.] Hands off! Touch me again and I'll kill you.
[ Oh come on. A part of him might have been desperately hoping for her to blush and act flustered and look away shyly, because then he could have nobly volunteered to pass on his turn to avoid making her uncomfortable? But no, she just has to meet his gaze bravely, and, like, he can't be the one to back off like some sort of coward, so.
So. Clearly, he has no choice. ]
... y-yeah? [ His voice cracked a bit. Fuuta hurries to clear his throat, trying to pretend something was just caught for a moment. ] Yeah, just. Stay there.
[ Is his face red? His face feels red. His movements are stiff, too, when Fuuta gets to his feet and slouches forth, awkwardly bracing his hands against the back of Hamel's chair over his shoulders before shuffling his feet forward to ... straddle her legs. Not yet putting his weight down, and instead hovering for a little longer as he tries not to think about how mortifying a position this is.
His voice comes a little squeaky with nerves when he grits, ] -- you're sure you're okay with this? I ain't gonna do anything you're uncomfortable with, you know.
it's an outlandish thought. but here, where nothing seems quite so outlandish anymore — and that had been after a perpetual dream, for xipe's sake — it isn't the most irrational thought to have. still, she does feel it prickle, a little, as she steps into the room after his show of chivalry, only to find herself looking at her mirror reflection with a slight sense of embarrassment.
this outfit would not have made it past some commercial censors back at penacony. no doubt the moment her brother found out about it, the station would have been taken soundly off the air, the company closing down under mysterious circumstances.
it's a slight exaggeration. she may be catastrophizing. sometime in their rush, a rip has opened up in the stocking along one thigh which she is soundly ignoring. she doesn't know what her brother might think of her when he looks at her like this, but she doesn't need the open feedback of his emotions to recognize the intense discomfort even under the deliberate stoicism of a consummate professional, too serious, too severe. )
It's been about three days now...
( quieter, maybe, because she doesn't know.
she doesn't know anything, really, of anything with real substance. when her brother had lost his sweet tooth, or where this prim and proper man had come from, and why it still feels like there's that wall stretched up between them, and he's so close and yet so painfully far away. back on penacony, it would've made sense with what he was planning... but here? )
... Brother.
Can't you — speak to me without a disguise this time...?
Most people wouldn't stay that about themselves, you know! Even if -- I mean, regardless of if it's true or not!
[ Of course he can't let that slide without a snippy retort, but there's no real venom in his delivery. It's hard getting properly at a guy who sounds so earnest, after all. What kind of guy so openly offers to watch out for other people like that? Ugh, he's probably one of those overly friendly, overly trusting idiots.
Fuuta takes another long swig of his coffee then starts picking himself up off the bed. Regardless of if they did anything or not, he can't linger here forever. He looks around for any traces of his lost suit jacket while continuing: ]
Those monsters weren't that big, and I also haven't seen them in a while. But knowing this place, there's probably more dangerous bullshit that'll show up eventually. -- and be careful, alright. Even if you're a good wrestler, those monsters were real monsters.
What do you think. You see any horns or tail on me right now?
[ The shitty retort is just because he usually has a shitty retort for everything, nothing personal. Though Fuuta does chase it up with a scrutinizing stare, eyes narrowed at Wei Wuxian, before he continues. ]
You don't sound surprised about it. You from someplace where that stuff is common? [ A little huff. ] Feels like I'm the only normal person here sometimes ... Too many of you people here come from places with all sorts of weird stuff going on.
[Sunday doesn't try to disguise the interest in his expression, because like this man before him, there's no reason to hide. A fact that is surreal to consider in the moment. He's met a handful of strangers over the course of these last few days, but few have seen — him as himself. With his face, with his halo. And even fewer have seen him under such private circumstances. Sitting here, eating breakfast across a table from one another still sleep-edged and soft, clothes wrinkled from slumber, white feathers scattered on a pillow case.
Perhaps if he had to wake up next to anyone, then it's better they don't know who he is. He doesn't need to behave any particular way. Wei Wuxian has no expectations of him.]
Yes, I'd like that. I wouldn't want you to go to the trouble of anything extravagant, either. Just... whatever is easiest for you.
[His desires shouldn't become a burden upon someone else.]
I did have one question first. Do you know how these ghosts might react to — ah, mental interfence? There might be a better word to use. ... Do you have any insight into how the minds of these ghosts work?
You can leave as many kisses as you like, monsieur~
[Wriothesley isn't going to complain when someone is offering him a bit more affection than the dice asks of them. Nor is he exactly going to be conservative with his responses.
He pulls Ashe closer until the man is definitely straddling his lap, hands moving to cup the smaller man's ass. He squeezes a little, fingers kneading into the soft flesh.] Don't mind if I do, really.
[A Diamond. His fingertips are hesitant, barely making contact with Mona's slender wrist as if not daring to visit the flawless surface of her skin — but his eyes have found that elegant suit and affixed to it. He can't really look away from the sight of patterned stars surrounding the mark, delicate as freckles.]
It's beautiful.
[Yes, he whispers it aloud, and unlike the flustering of earlier his voice is confident. He doesn't feel ashamed to state his opinion, since it is the truth.
— Lack of initiative? The remark goes over his head, as unfortunately he still lacks the knowledge of what the suits each mean; he only knows that there are four, and they divide all of the guests into categories. It's her question that shocks him, chin tilting up, expression open.]
I... beg your pardon. You'll need to be more clear, Miss Megistus. Your disciple?
[ Again her brow creases. A typewriter? The word itself kind of makes sense in this context based on what she's learned but she'll have to look into what exactly it is. ]
Think of the video option as kind of window between you and the person you're communicating with. On your screens you can see and hear each other almost as you would in person.
[ It's remarkable, in her opinion. How convenient to communicate with other people this way despite any distance. To say nothing of how these methods of communication could change managing an army.
It isn't much longer, by his count, than his own time in this place. Perhaps they'd even arrived along with all of the other guests branded as Wildcards by the resort staff, left to fend for themselves in the parking garage. So what does it say about him, that his sister has been here just as long — and he did not find her? She's wandered around in a place making such obscene demands of her, uprooting her from all safety and security, stranding her alone. He should have been there from the beginning.
Yet the thought comes up against a competing belief. That other side of him, like the reflection of glass Robin looks in to see herself — an awareness and acknowledgement that he doesn't deserve to be there.
Sunday turns partially away at the question, feeling it like a blow, though on the outside he continues to grasp at composure for the lifeline it offers.]
It will be... harder for us if I do. [Harder for him. Sunday knows his sister is stronger than him, and he also understands his own cowardice for the disguise at all.] But I will, if that's what you want.
[He keeps his gaze cast aside as he hesitates.]
Have you seen any of the others yet? The Trailblazer. And... the IPC.
(maybe she does want to sink her teeth in lappland's neck badly, maybe she wants to despite the tight grip on her hair. the way claws threaten to rake lines along her scalp, maybe she also wants to kiss her quiet and breathless. rut and grind against her gracelessly with where her emotions are; leave teeth marks along her breasts that won't be healing for a bit. the thoughts not leaving, it has yet to, even as her teeth are kept short of leaving the marks she craves from bites. so she doesn't. what she does instead is take part of the pale skin of lappland's neck along the column of her throat and sucks hard on it.
she's being quiet, but she's thinking. thinking while her bare hand teases, brushing against lappland's panties with an index finger along her cunt, her lips. the claws of that hand threatens to rip them open as if that's the intent while they press lightly into fabric.
her other hand (gloved and everything) reaches to tug down that evening down with other intentions of its own. to cup a breast and squeeze, brush thumb against her nipple roughly through her bra if she were wearing one. she noticed that, the shiver and the tremble in lappland's legs while fabric rips of her vest strings and blouse coming open. she can presume it's both careless and deliberate, just like the pressing of texas being more deliberate. that part has been clearer since they started, whenever her mouth lets go of lappland's neck. leaving behind a black-blue mark, nice and pretty for now. it'd only be one of many.) Constant violence doesn't do anything, either. Just like how me running away doesn't. So maybe I do run away from talking about it, from anything remotely near remembering. (because that's how she's been. avoiding speaking about it, conversations that she should have been having by burying herself in something or other as a means of not thinking. that only worsened during her stay.)
But do you really think it'd be worth me being that angry again? The way that I was in Volsinii near the end as I kept watching the way they used, abused, and did everything they could to claim a win at the cost of multiple lives?
Or the way that I felt it after the fire? (the words are hummed out, again, her lips take another patch of skin. another hard suckle and her tongue brushing along it slowly. to taste her, to leave those bruises. the leather fabric of her gloved hand brushes along more pale skin with each squeeze, each passing second getting rougher. the scents getting more obvious and thicker from texas, she might be considering ignoring the game and playing it. not the way they intended, anyway.)
... ok, but i'm here for the angst and the smut is just one of the perks
the question's on the tip of her tongue, her throat drying around something harder to swallow. in penacony, it had made some sense — even if it was a bitter pill in the aftermath, knowing there would be a long way to go before she could ever welcome him home again.
but, a man on the run is one thing. here, it's another thing entirely when sunday refuses to look her in the eye at all. it would've been easier if he'd feigned ignorance than if he threw out all second doubts about his identity, pretended not to know her, and acted as if all of this were just some show of care from a complete stranger. then again, her brother's repertoire has only expanded to contain all manner of business — but his ability to act, maybe not as much.
she's hesitant about it, even when it should come naturally between them, even when she could hang onto his body in freefall and think nothing of what could come after. when she reaches out, she manages to grab the cuff of one sleeve, looking at the profile of her brother's disguise for something she's not sure she'll ever be able to find again. )
I have. Some in passing... Knowing we're among — allies... brings a sense of comfort.
And equal amounts of concern.
( in disguise, she's a nobody. though stelle may later catch her out of it, because what is a trailblazer if not to disrupt the way that things have gone.
but she's not sure what he's asking. if jade is to be trusted, then sunday was freed for a price that robin is already paying. it isn't a debt to be collected upon with interest — even if robin would pay any greater sum without hesitation. )
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