【 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.
[No response to that perfunctory backtalk. None needed. It's not that he expects anything like perfect obedience out of Gojo, just that doing what he's told in this instance is a step toward getting what he presumably wants. He feels Gojo's hand move, fingers slotting between his, and glances down. Slowly he curls his fingers inward as well, locking their hands together. His gaze shifts as their drinks are set in front of them. His is a tall glass of pale gold liquid, bubbles glittering in the light, garnished with a lemon wedge. A simple classic. Gojo's martini is more decadent, the rim of the glass dipped in chocolate with visible swirls of chocolate syrup looped around the interior and curls of shaved chocolate sprinkled on top. As he taps his Watch to pay, his brow creases reflexively at the question.]
Every weekend. [Deadpan.] —No, not really.
[Honestly, he can't fathom what goes through Gojo's head sometimes. (A lot of the time.) Was he hoping for a yes or a no? Regardless, while Nanami has occasionally had to seek out new partners and wound up picking someone up (or being picked up) in a bar, it's generally more... transactional. No hand-holding, just a terse agreement to help one another out. If not for the power this place holds over him with the suit marks and the risk of turning to stone, he wouldn't be doing that much at all. He didn't at home.
He finishes off his previous drink in a few swallows and picks up the fresh one, readying to depart.]
[ not me forgetting to backread threads LMAO. she waves a quick hand as she gestures back to the tower. ]
Never mind. I thought you wanted to add more to that answer. Please, your turn to ask, Sir Neuvillette.
[ what a fancy name, one that she's able to pronounce properly on her first try. sometimes it helps having a fantasy fr*nch seatmate on the eponymous bus. ]
[ ohhhh he wants to howl about this so badly, but those fingers trailing down the solid core of his stomach catches his attention soon enough. Ishmael will find, in fact, that yes, he is about half hard. But who can blame him? Ishmael stripped in front of him first! Surely, they’ve just been lowkey flirting back and forth this whole time.
He practically purrs from being touched, though, wrapping his arms snugly around Ishmael, right at the rib cage. ]
I like it. Spontaneous. I can follow direction really well. Maybe you’re like that, or—
[ His hold on her loosens to prove a point, also getting right to it with the touching. Beowulf also wastes no time, stroking along her pussy from underneath the water. ]
—maybe you like someone more direct, huh? I’m flexible.
[She doesn’t press it. He wonders if that’s better or worse — better, allowing him to remain in this disguise at his own discretion, not bending his will to her request; worse, it means she’s too kind. She lets her brother go on feeling sorry, because that is his version of penitence. Or perhaps she’s being gentle with him given the circumstances, their new and unusual surroundings, and his own unease clawing under his skin to be so out of his element. So out of control.
Sunday’s eyes are drawn by the tug, finding his sister’s fingers curled there at the cuff of his suit. A sigh compresses his chest. Her hand is so small, he could cover it completely if he just —]
No. They aren’t. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be careful, but it’ll be good to have an ally in Stelle. If she is here, the rest of the Crew can’t be far.
[The interaction with Aventurine had proven… what, exactly? That man’s desires are as alien to him as another planet, and one game on the casino floor was not going to reveal much, except for the most immediate lack of threat.]
I’m more concerned for you. Are you well? Has anyone… bothered you?
[She must know what he means, even though the idea itself threatens to send his mind into a spiral of dark worry, and perhaps lends to why he now avoids her gaze. The sight of her in that outfit, her own disguise, along with the knowledge of this place — what is he supposed to do? How can he protect her?]
[ Nehan's not the type to rail against the confines of any cage he's put into. Besides, there is no great sense of urgency to get home, because the people he's left behind are surprisingly good at taking care of themselves, moreso than he'd think to have given them credit for once. But there is an... itch. An unsettled piece of him that chafes as he sits here, amidst all the excess and glamor.
He ignores it for now. It's easier, having someone around who reacts more than he does, deflecting the need to do so himself. He raises a brow with a muted amusement. ]
Go figure.
[ He can imagine the type. ]
Being annoying is an affectionate gesture, I'm sure. [ Said dryly. ] Your turn.
[ Breakfast and a nice little beverage. Except this isn't supposed to replace a tasty cup of coffee or juice. He lifts his mug, speaking at the rim of it and not bothering to hide the faintest trace of amusement at his breakfast companion's reaction. ]
...Most tea is "leaf litter."
[ Most of the patients he sees are kids, and they'll get candy to go along with it, but everyone else will simply have to deal with the bitterness. He rattles off an explanation, textbook. ]
You don't have this for the flavor. It calms the stomach, and helps reduce absorption of certain substances... like, say, alcohol. I don't know if drinking is what got us here, after all.
[ Because he doesn't remember. And it's better to deal with all that before taking any meds. ]
[ so true and i hope you got a bajillion valor badges despite dodge/reflect/zombify/81923801 buff hell
He listens patiently, not bothering to toy with the chips on the table anymore. It's not even what she's saying that interests him, really—he may be a researcher of his own right, but for the most part, it hadn't been by choice. He does not operate on scientific curiosity.
When she starts talking about parameters to measuring intercourse, he slowly inches up a brow and speaks up. ]
Have you ever actually slept with anyone?
[ Timing... A point-based system for sex... Do they get gold stars, too? ]
[ he obliges so far as a tiny tilt of his head, the minute lean of one of his ears. subtle, but enough to be purposeful.
and it's worthwhile, because isn't that a curious want. a little homewrecking. ]
...People do put plenty on the line for that.
[ the risk of being caught, the potential to lose what they have, the possibility of hurting those closest to them, ostensibly. he grabs a drink off a nearby server's tray as he speaks. ]
What sort of "patrons" do you serve? [ moreso than the desire itself, he's curious about the framing around the answer. ]
[ he's just a mangy runt of a wolf. not nearly as amiable as a certain dog general. but consequently, being in the presence of a person like itto is like staring directly into the sun—warm, bright. overbearing. straightforward enough that nehan doesn't surmise he'll be a threat, at least.
so he responds with nothing but a flat stare at his pun and... everything else that comes out of his mouth. ]
A dog, huh...
[ the people here really are from another world. ]
Oversimplification, but sure. [ they span a wide breadth of animals, from donkeys to dogs, like him. ] I'm an erune. That's a skydwelling race, which... doesn't mean anything to you.
Nehan has his own reasons for oversharing, though it's almost always to unnerve and unsettle, to deter people rather than bridge the gap. That doesn't feel like Viktor's aim here—and perhaps there's no motive at all. But he guesses that there is, considering his crutch hanging idly beneath the table.
For their similarities, he gives nothing away. Viktor's mindset is too different from his. Broader, and more altruistic. He takes the card, places it in the pile with the rest. ]
People who slip between the cracks.
[ He studies the structure again. ]
You look sturdier now.
[ Maybe not better—the mottled texture of his skin is not exactly healthy—but whole, at least. ]
[ he saw that as flirting? they were just having a normal conversation, bro... well, as normal as they can get in a resort that encourages debauchery anyway. might as well get used to that kind of talk now or never if she's going to stay here for a while.
before she can dryly comment on how she'd never had someone whoop and holler over getting pussy from a ginger, however, her cunt twitches from the sudden contact of his hand, and she folds her knees up so that he can have better access to between her legs. she has yet to let go of his cock though, and matches his pace accordingly. ]
I mean... I can't really pretend that I know what I'm doing here, right?
[ an awkward laugh to help disguise the soft moan that threatens to slip out her tongue just now. ]
Just tell me if... If I'm doing well enough. [ she picks up the pace in stroking his cock, her freckled shoulders trembling slightly. ] It's the least I can do for you.
There's a very specific type used in these scenarios... Ah, here.
[ After several pleas to the hotel staff — yes, they're about to have a splendid time, or at least try to, yes, they will be back — the pair are rather huffily permitted to exit the casino grounds. Midnight leads them to the shopping floors, clearly navigating the many, many specialty shops by memory. ]
Well, as I was saying, I was kindly given a lesson or two in an encounter a few months ago, and it does seem like this spoon will retain enough heat to melt wax meant for one's skin... It really won't take much. The point isn't to blister one's skin after all.
( ever the mind for strategy... but this isn't the kind of politics that her brother excels at, and likely not the kind of freedom that he would enjoy naturally.
the thing is, it's been a long time since sunday has played a real game with her that wasn't some puzzle to be put together, or some grand mystery to be solved. it's... difficult... to think of him here. but it's not easy to think about him anywhere now, when the freedom of roaming in an unbeautiful world is fraught with unknowns. it's an empathy that robin cherishes, an anxiety spun with a golden thread: ah, she'd thought, sat within sunday's office a day or two after he'd left, listening to the birdsong in her dreams just like the faint, far-off chirping that she can hear in the room now. so this must be how you had felt, brother.
but this game isn't one that she's naturally engaged in, either, although she's... trying to adapt. the outfit was easy enough to put on; easy enough to think of it as simply show business — if maybe it was a little showier than most.
it's... a little shameful to think about what her brother might think about her in it, even if she's still staying well within his peripheral for the moment he'd turn to look at her, never shying away, not once. it isn't quite comfort that stays her. there's a prickle of distant awareness that robin is steadfastly ignoring in her bid to stay beside him, not quite content enough to stay in his shadow while he steadfastly ignores her gaze in turn. )
... you mean, in context of the game?
( or in general. she shouldn't think about her brother in this context, if he'd find it filthy, and if he'd find her filthy in turn, for considering it at all once she's exhausted all of her options. ) They... haven't really. I have been fortunate that people have been so kind... It should be expected. We're all captives here and it would be beneficial of us to work together.
But it seems so absurd of an idea... How can such a thing grant us our freedom?
it takes a moment, two, for the pause to translate in the slow untensing of her shoulders, or the way her nervy hands finally stop fidgeting, all of that fake hair in her face with no more real drive to fix it.
this time when she laughs, it's inelegant but genuine. apparently formality is a joke here that should be told to other people more interested in hearing it, because this man certainly isn't her target audience. breathe — but instead of relying on harmony, robin leans back on her imagination instead, imagining this boy's long fingers along his cigarette. strong hands. perhaps he might hold the smoke in his chest for a long time, letting it cool and coil in his lungs, grow heavy and steady her where she sits, and then she exhales and straightens up on the stool. )
How could anyone be anything but, with a charmer like you?
( as her hand tugs the wig free from where it last clings sadly to her head, black threads falling past her face like the descent of his next puff of smoke.
her hair is brighter underneath, and then brighter than that when the contrast is stark when it had been black before. it's the white wings that are, frankly, a little jarring, fluttering like a bird taking flight as soon as they're freed.
or like an angel, since aki has been trying so hard not to make the comparison on his side of the narrative. )
Allow me to start over, then. My name is Robin. It looked like you got saddled with a ride you weren't very eager to take.
( in very pretty lines, humored, courting neither controversy or even a real tease. the kind of lilting enunciation that must have been practiced once, or rehearsed for television in all its charismatic trappings for one (1) aki hayakama to find charming or incredibly off-putting. )
We could spend the next two hours discussing more convincing ways to get rid of it, if you prefer.
Or, if we're really both willing, we can use it together and save the chips and dignity that you — and I, having touched it — would otherwise lose.
[ What a measured answer. Lighter's shoulders slope a little, as if he's wise to the fact that she'd been holding all of that in but chose instead to share it with him after all. It makes him less keen on leaving, even though it's presumably morning — even though he can't, also presumably, stay here with her forever. ]
That makes sense. Luxury's pretty glaring when there's not much of it to go around. All of this must seem in pretty bad taste to you.
[ Hanging on that peripheral, he lifts his opposite hand. ]
Medic? [ He guesses. He runs his fingertips over his brow where his head had been pounding, now soothed to a near memory. ] If this was anything to go by.
[ she hums in agreement—bad taste is one way of putting it. admittedly, she would say the same; it would be a cold day in hell before mercedes actually says she hates something out loud, but it's close enough.
her gaze follows the path of his fingertips and her expression softens. ]
Yes. [ wryly, ] They'd tried to teach me swordsmanship, but I'm very clumsy. I'd sooner hurt myself before anyone else.
[ It's a new year! And for one particular, formerly lowly-ranked 2 of Diamonds, the new year brings a new revelation. Somebody had their relationship status changed. (OooooOooOOooo-) For the better part of December, Ragna endured the trials and tribulations of having his rank and room jostled around along with the rest of the guests, but otherwise? He remained content, and perhaps a little more determined going into the new year- hoping that he could crack the very foundations of this world once and for all and find his way back home. Find a way back home for everyone that wanted or needed to be anywhere else. All so that he could finish his own business...then fulfill a new promise that he's since made here. A promise to someone that when this was all over, he'd be by their side.
A lot has changed, not just in Ragna's disposition, but in his current standing at the Golden Peacock. No longer a middling rank, yet just shy of the royalty that would be considered a "real pain in the ass" when it came to unwanted attention and fawning. As the new year rolls on through and life seems to "settle" as well as it could in this haunted smuthole, one hand to ask...
What was next for Ragna the Bloodedge? ]
Hey!! Easy, asswipes! I'm here! I'm here!!
[ ...A whole helluva lot of the same, it would seem. Ragna either opting out of the resort's "festive" shenanigans still after all this time, or reluctantly succumbing of his own accord and sucking it up as he arrives via supernatural dragging. That was enough to get the hairs on his neck on end, knowing that phantoms were involved in tugging him along! But he would never build up a true immunity to his deep-seated phobia of ghosts. As for the physical personnel that have managed to wrangle the Grim Reaper to come and mingle with the rest of the wildcards and beyond?
They're met with a glower for all their trouble, previous disdain for his rank now being kept under wraps with cordial smiles that only serve to piss Ragna off even more.
Fake ass staff... Tersely tugging away his sleeve from the staff member tugging him towards the front entrance of Phoenix Casino, he snorts. ]
Your ass is lucky I know I'll just get thrown in the slammer if I start beating the brakes off you. Now just-
[ Sigh, and hand running down his face... ]
Let's get this over with. [ "Yes~! For 168 hours at that." ] Let's get this over with in 168-freaking hours.
[ If nothing else, at least Ragna remembered his black tie. ]
► Party Time
► IT'S GETTING BUBBLY
[ Ahh, this was all beyond luxurious, wasn't it? Mountainous piles of quality food, libations galore, and countless seating arrangements... One could even take their food and drink elsewise and indulge more privately. Perhaps with the company of another? If one glossed over the more salacious intent behind this party, this was almost a magical experience- ]
WHAT IN THE HELLLLLLL?!?!
[ -scratch that? It technically was a magical experience. One that saw Ragna floating nigh-uncontrollably after just a few sips of a special champagne that has him bubbling above the wining and dining crowd below. Like always when things don't go Ragna's way, it usually ends in...a free ticket to point and laugh, really, because he's slowly rotating like a lazy cartwheel through the air whilst his arms briefly flail. ]
Well THIS is just great. Got no effin' control of my trajectory...can't think of any real Ars that can GROUND my ass...
[ Yeah don't mind him. He's already speedrun his way to the acceptance stage. But now he's trying to muse how he can get down...that is, with a growl of a sigh, he finally sucks it up and makes eye contact with you. Are you seated and eating? Mingling? Between crowds? ...Did you drink the bubbly and you're just as stuck as he was? No matter the circumstance, he's embarrassed that he's gotta get bailed out like this without knowing when the effects were going to wear off. ]
Hey uh, do you mind lending me a hand? ...Literally?
► DIRTY DICE: EVEN DIRTIER (Optional 🌶️)
Huh. So this is how they stir things up. Just add more sides... Shit, why the hell didn't I think of that?
[ Further musings as far as Ragna was concerned, as he rolls the 12-sided die between his fingers as he inspects every side. Nothing seems off about it...only that they correspond to specific actions and body parts. As usual. Perhaps not so usual if he found himself roped with a wildcard. But the last time he played a game like this?? It was with Cellinia...luckily for them? Neither one was rushed into anything titillating. By this point? Ragna was well and comfortable with it...with the right people, that is. But now this edition seemed very dangerous.
But there was also a lot of money on the line. The "holidays" had made a sizable dent in his chip fund, which is part of the reason he was here alongside being urged by the staff. Still, as he eyes up his partner in their own private booth, a curtain at their beck and wave should things escalate and neither wanted prying eyes, Ragna greets said partner with a half-frown. ]
Well? [ A beat. ] Whaddya say? Whose rolling first?
► 1 OR 11 (🌶️)
[ For all intents and purposes? This was Ragna's genuine attempt to have a breather from the hustle and bustle of this seemingly neverending party. There wasn't a lack of bedding or comfortable spots to lie down (his internal clock was helping him keep some form of track on the time) but this was the first time it felt like he was being confined harder than ever. At least when he was "living" in a dingy capsule bed, he had the choice to sleepover with someone else higher than him. So when he takes a turn away from the main hall, heart pounding faster as the core of his diamond tattoo beneath his shirt was taking on a deeper hue...
"Pick a card, love." ]
Oh yeah? What's the gig this time?
[ "This will be your role inside Lovers' Hideaway," ]
[ "-should have asked more questions? Oh, Mr. Bloodedge..." The game manager, seemingly all too familiar with this guest's line of thinking (or lack thereof), can't help but press another button, gliding her silken-gloved hand up the line of his chiselled jawline before cupping his cheek, a brush of her thumb coaxing a hitched breath from the much taller Grim Reaper.
"Be a good boy...and play your role~"
The role the world expects him to play. A dominant criminal whose name stokes the fires of fear in the hearts of the common folk back home. Here? A dominant, well-seasoned player of the game whose appetite was insatiable once he got rolling. Now the real question was... ]
Tch...
[ Who was his little club? Who was his submissive little diamond in the rough? ]
► HOUSE OF CARDS
Just forewarning you now. [ He says to his opponent of the evening, corner of his mouth turned with a smirk as he fixes his collar for added flair, ] I've got nimbler fingers than you might think.
[ Yeah at this rate? If Ragna's going to be stuck in here "partying" all day and night? He's going to at least try his hand making some easy money from it. The rules seem simple enough! And he's got a really steady hand all the while thanks to his years of training with his Master. It wasn't just about brutally crushing his foes in a fight!
He's surprisingly gentle when he wants to be... ]
► HIGH CLASS OASIS
[ Now this? This is what he was talking about! In all truths, Ragna pursued a higher rank mainly for the sake of others he spent his time with. His lowly rank dragged others down and threw awkward wrenches into outings in the past when the staff on hand would war between treating him like garbage and whoever he was with with common human decency to royal bootlicking.
Now that he was just shy of royalty himself? He was still given unfettered access to the High Club Oasis. That was all well and good for him and a few others he knew, but for other low ranks... ]
SCENARIO A
[ Ragna has made himself at home after finally getting away from the mobs of partygoers below, lounging with his legs spread, not a care in the world for once as he tips his head against the cool cushioning of the luxury booth he's occupied for himself. The smell of roasted black coffee wafts through the air, a fresh pot, creamer and sugar, and a pair of cups left on the table as per Ragna's request.
Whether you're a familiar face or another wildcard waiting to be shuffled in with the rest of the deck, he's far too tired relaxed to give a damn who joins him yet. Have a seat and a cup? It's on the House. ]
SCENARIO B
The hell do you mean they can't come in?!
[ Ragna, bless his heart, might have seen that your character was looking for a bit of a reprieve from everything. Whether he's familiar with them or not, it didn't really cost anything to try and get them inside, right? Besides, even if he's got the privilege of getting in due to his rank, maybe it's because of how long he spent on the bottom (and how many times he's watched other low ranks get treated like trash) but he hasn't forgotten about screwing with the system and finding loopholes.
Except...well, ]
[ "Exactly what we mean, sir. No access for the lower ranks. High rollers only." ]
You gotta be kidding me!
[ With a clenched fist and gritted teeth, Ragna's usual solution of punching his way through solutions wasn't exactly going to do him or his newfound compatriot any favours... Which only serves to piss him off further. They weren't going to deny Ragna access if he was on his own, regardless.
There had to be something they could do...right? ]
► Hangover Aftercare
► A Little Aftercare [ Dawn finally breaks on this seemingly neverending party. Was it a good time? Did you get your fill of fun in? Drinks? Merriment? A couple of cards to your hand? Was it too much? However the fun and festivities unfolded for you, at least the bed you find yourself stirring awake in was a rather luxurious one.
Not quite the royal treatment, but the deep red and blacks of the bedroom that greet your sights was still pleasant enough. The fake sunlight that pours in through the curtains off to the side casts a warmth across the bedspread.
Where are you? This isn't your bed. It's... ]
Z Z Z . . .
[ Ragna's; who is still fast asleep, lying on his back without a shirt on. Curiously, his right arm is sleeved to his shoulder, concealing whatever may lie underneath. ]
► Wildcard
► Wildcard & OOC Notes ( If there are any scenarios or ideas you have that you'd like to hurtle my way, feel free to let me know! PM, Discord @ clandon. or Clandon are best. Ragna is OTA with M/F pref for smut, but otherwise I'm open to all kinds of shenanigans. More info and prefs/kinks can be found here.
To note, for SCENARIO B of the high rank club, Ragna has a magical ability where he can turn himself and whoever's in close proximity/touching him invisible. If anyone is looking for a potential way of getting smuggled in for a while.
[ Kaveh smiles, visibly relaxing—of course he knows that Eiden won't laugh at him, but it's still a relief to hear him say it. He smiles into that brief kiss, listening to the other's suggestion: a work of art, he says, becoming what it needs to be with his guidance; the color in his cheeks heightens, but his expression sharpens, something curious and interested in his eyes as his head tilts.
A work of art...
He reaches up, fingers brushing Eiden's hair back from his face, letting the tips trail over the softness of his skin. Yes, he can see Eiden as a work of art. ]
Alright. Shall we find somewhere a little more private, handsome?
[ A long exhale sighs through his nose, amused by the tone she takes. Even without knowing her for long, he thinks he understands the sentiment well enough to glean meaning from its softness. Which means this whole situation might be a little worse than he thought, actually. ]
I... [ He pauses, the words slow and ashy in his throat. ] Yeah, I don't like it one bit. It's sketchy, what's happening. No matter how much I tried to grasp at what was really going on, it's like it all just kept slipping through my fingers.
[ And there's so few things that can really escape him, when he puts his focus on it. ]
Is playing the game to find out really the right choice?
[ the secondhand embarrassment can knock out an outskirts child, tbh. rip kabru. luckily ishmael isn't the type to use blackmail to get what she wants, but she will tuck that TMI info away in the back of her mind for future reference. yeah. ]
But I can kind of understand the sentiment. [ scratches the back of her head. ] Did you arrive here all on your own, or did you come here with someone? You probably just miss them that badly, which is something I can't blame someone for.
[ it's a pleasure, quite literally. ishmael pulls her worn-out hand from mona's thigh and just... keeps them to herself for now. she's going to need a bit of an intermission before they proceed, especially when mona mentions something very much unfamiliar to her. ]
[ eiden can feel and see the shift in mood, slow and gradual like a flower blooming and uncurling its petals. fingers brush his hair and he shivers a little, laughter escaping him from the sensation of it. for a moment his eyelashes flutter just a bit at the sharpness he comes to meet with his own eyes.
emotionally, eiden heats a bit more, ears hot, a flush over his skin. a swell of desire and something deeper than that, adoring the other and simmering beneath it all. ]
Lead the way, [ said with a smile that is full of trust, his thumbs gently stroking the rise of kaveh's cheeks before falling to take one of his hands in his own. ] I'm in your very capable hands.
[ her voice trails off as she ponders on this. it's no different from the City then, with how the people with well-off houses and stable income in the Nest are more revered compared to the ones who had to fight for their lives in the Backstreets on the regular. ishmael came from the former, but even then there was no pleasure to be found from just earning money all the time. she wanted something different in her humdrum life, and look where it had gotten her.
although of course, it's not like the latter life in the Backstreets is any good either. she turns to texas and asks: ]
How do they determine ranks, exactly? Is it how good you are at sex, or...?
[ because she'd only had sex once (1) and it was literally nothingburger. she's going to be sent to the brig equivalent of this resort, that's for sure. and the last thing she wants is to rely too much on other people's handouts......... ]
[ that makes the two of them. she's not a scholar or a scientist by any means, she's far from capable of coming up with some kind of reason or explanation for their appearance here aside from some type of magic, maybe. a summoning spell, of sorts. why it saw fit to summon them specifically, she can't say either. ]
There's no reason why we can't search for a different path while playing it. If there's a way in, there must be a way out.
[ it's clear that she'd rather not play at all, but she has a feeling drawing more attention to them would be more detrimental. ]
[You know who is also sleeping peacefully? Kazuya. Like this, you probably wouldn't even know that he has a little baby spat with Ragna. Not with how he's curled up against his side with an arm drapped over him, clinging tightly to a warm body that's all too comfortable.
How did he get here? Who knows. Maybe the House. Probably the house.
The point is, that Kazuya is snoring softly, cozied up against a man that he's not entirely nice too, despite the fact that Ragna hasn't really done anything to deserve the treatment.]
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peacockstop2025-01-15 09:00 pm
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