【 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.
( it's not difficult to hear the way her voice sours, vinegar seeping into an otherwise sweet tone, even for someone as emotionally inept as him. he can only surmise that he's stepped into the middle of some sort of lover's quarrel. even so, it's nothing worse than any of the heated arguments he's witnessed on the court floor, and he makes note of the description she provides, tucking all those words away to memory. )
Noted. If I see anyone matching the provided description, I will be sure to let you know.
( after asking their name, of course. tall with long black hair are common enough descriptors, after all, and he himself has met a few people matching that same description already.
as for her other offer.....he's caught off-guard, eyes widening briefly, a small exhale of surprise filling the air between them. )
Ah, I would not wish to impose. You must have many other things to worry about. ( such as this takumi of hers. ) But I would be more than happy spend time with you whenever you would like.
[At the moment his mind can't quite comprehend being in this situation the night before and not being able to remember it. He grunts softly at the scratch, struck by the warm wetness of her around him. And from this angle she's a sight to behold.
Rude leans back a little, staring at her with his hands moving over her hips and thighs appreciatively. One reaching upward to take one of her breasts, thumbing over her nipple as she moves, his own hips pushing up to meet her movements.]
Not just the view. [He wants to tell her that she feels divine, but the words don't quite make it out of his mouth.]
It's hard to look directly at her. There's something about the earnestness in her eyes that feels like she's looking directly into his soul. Unsettling isn't the right word, but it makes his heartbeat quicken the longer they look at each other, and her compliments cause heat to spread from his face and warmth in his chest.]
I don't think anyone has ever thought that about me. [Or at least no one has ever been so honest with him about those thoughts. He finds the corners of his lips tugging upward a little, unable to help it.
Rude's eyes widen before they close, a little self-conscious about if she's bothered by his facial hair. His hands end up on her waist and he's reminded that the sheer outfit she has on leaves little to the imagination. Rude takes things slowly, his hands moving under the pink fabric to feel along the sides of her thighs, settling near her butt for the moment as they kiss.
It feels experimental and new with her for some reason, but he curiously allows their tongues to touch when both their lips happen to part at the same moment.]
The place definitely gives brothel vibes, but he's never seen a hotel/casino/resort quite like this. It's as if the Gold Saucer had an adults-only night that got way too out of hand. Rude isn't sure what to make of it all, and since he's also not here of his own free will, it's all the more difficult to accept.
"I haven't, but like you, I've had to endure torture--which is very different from this."
He doesn't know exactly what the stranger likes, or if he'll be able to arouse him at all, but from what he's been told and what he's experienced so far, it's unlikely that they can leave until that's taken care of. His voice is soft and unsure at first when he speaks again. "Take off your shirt." Followed by a less firm: "Please."
( it's a reasonable suggestion, and one that caters to his desire to leave these trivial party games behind. and yet there will alwyas be a part of him that feels obligated to obey rules that have been laid out before him, and to follow protocol whenever possible.
so: )
If I may...
( he doesn't wait for a reply, leaning forward one last time to draw a card from the structure between them. this time, there's no elegance to the flick of his wrist, only a crude tug of a card at the very bottom that sends the rest of the house toppling immediately down, cards fluttering every which way through the air.
satisfied, he sets his card down without even glancing at question written upon it, and motions towards wei wuxian as he rises from his seat. )
I do believe we are free to go.
( the loss of a large sum of chips doesn't bother him as much as it could; his immediate needs have always been fewer than most others anyway. )
[That's certainly a rather unpleasant expression he's getting from the other teen that's only sitting just a few feet away from him. It makes Scott tense just slightly, shoulders drawing up, but he doesn't back down from anything he just said. If he folds this easily, then he'd be letting everyone down-- including himself. And being with the X-Men is the first time he's really found any sort of goal or purpose, something he actually believes in.
He still listens to what Getou is saying though, if just to understand the context and maybe a little more about him. Based on what he's saying, it doesn't sound like he's a mutant and there's still that feeling of disappointment that he's not exactly like him, but it's something he easily shoves aside. It's made even easier given Getou's disagreeable philosophy.
Weren't they supposed to be playing a card game? Oh well.]
Do they even know they're creating these monsters? Monsters just form? [....] It doesn't sound like it's even their fault.
( her words are reasonable. logical, even. yet he cannot help but sit straighter in his chair, hands folding perfectly in his lap. some of his previous stiffness has since returned, all traces of emotion swept back behind the curtain of formality. )
As the victor, I believe it is my right to choose how to spend the chips in my possession. And I chose to bequeath half the sum won to you.
( that, too, is logical in his eyes. )
As for our brief acquaintanceship, I believe it is also only fair to treat all with equal kindness and courtesy. I would have done the same for anyone else. ( simply and truthfully said. ) But if you feel as though I have overstepped my bounds, I would be happy to find some way to reverse the transaction.
( though he'll have to call over the staff member once more to repeat the steps of transferring chips from his account again. )
( it was a far too complex relationship she had with this man who she wasn't even dating, but she absolutely did not want to run into him here even if others seemed joyous of finding people they recognized.
even that much she could understand, but her fear of being alone in a strange place hadn't gotten to her yet. especially when neuvillette was offering to keep her company-
something she would take advantage of eventually. )
Ah I suppose I do...
( for now though, she would rise up from her table and polish off whatever water remained in her glass. as interesting as this man was, the call to explore the rest of the hotel was getting to her. especially now that she wanted to keep an eye out for takumi. )
Well I won't impose on you further, thank you for helping me to find water. I think I'm going to take some time to explore the hotel further and see what exactly awaits us here.
[ Honestly, the ghost doesn't even need to appear for it to be enough.
Almost every demonic cultivator uses a flute, and it's for a very simple reason: they have no goddamn clue what they're doing. When Wei Wuxian appeared he turned the cultivation world on its head with Chenqing, and dozens of cultivators looking to follow in his footsteps sought to imitate his techniques. They took up the flute and copied his playing, and a few of them even managed a bit of success with it. But that was all the were doing: copying. If they tried something other than a flute they failed, and if they tried a different song, they failed.
This noise? This tune, whistled with purpose? This is not a copycat technique. As one of the few people who understands the fundamentals that Wei Wuxian was the first to uncover, Xue Yang is immediately certain that this is someone with mastery of those fundamentals.
If this isn't Wei Wuxian, then there's a third person in the same tier as the two of them.
Xue Yang watches as resentful energy is bent and commands, and a ghost obeys its call dutifully. It's not exactly the form he recognizes, but he's long gotten used to things being different here, ghosts included. He watches, gaze intense enough to burn through as he takes in every detail of the resulting movement. At the question his expression breaks into a grin wide enough to split his face, prominent canines revealing themselves. There's no Jin Guangyao around to interfere. ]
The Yin Tiger Tally. How did you refine it?
[ He's all but forgotten about their game of dirty dice for the moment. ]
[ Wait, Archons, are those tears? Suddenly Baizhu feels completely horrible, as though he’d viciously bullied her and regrets it.
And perhaps he might have. After all, hadn’t he failed to take her unusual mental state into consideration? For all he knows this might’ve been the last straw from a particularly difficult night or something—
Right. He’s getting off the bed and not even bothering to throw on so much as a robe as he rounds the bed to her side to kneel down and brush the tears from her eyes.
Cupping a woman’s cheek while they’re both kneeling in a little patch of flowers would’ve been so utterly romantic if it weren’t for…yeah. ]
I apologize for having upset you. Please allow me to make amends by helping you onto the bed, at the very least.
[ He can just get out and find more considerate staff to take care of her instead— ]
[ It sounds like something out of a storybook to her. But she's living it. She's here. She takes a bite of the food and looks thoughtful, face screwed up in concentration. ]
( he opens his mouth to protest - he doesn't find her an imposition at all, despite what his own words might say about him - but she's already standing, her empty glass being set back on the table with a light clink. if exploration is what she wishes, then he will not stop her. )
Very well. Please take care, Miss Layla.
( all things considered, he should probably do the same, and as she departs, he rises from his own seat to venture out on his own. )
[ Though they both had similar pink hair, the worlds they were from - at least perhaps the current state of them sounded different - though neither of them realized that they had barely scratched the surface of that truth. War was hardly a pleasant topic nor was it unique to any world. And Hilda, as a general rule of thumb, tried her best to avoid thinking about unpleasant things. On a vanity level it introduced the potential for wrinkles. And on a serious level? It brought a gloomy cloud filled with possibilities that she didn't want to entertain. But even living in ignorant bliss had come to an end with a bone shattering crash, landing her in the situation she finds herself in now.
Despite everything that she keeps at bay her voice betrays none of it. She may as well have been talking about the weather - if there were really weather to be had in here that was real. ]
I was.
[ But as soon as she admits it she offers Reira a kind smile, almost teasing, as she continues to fix her makeup. ]
But I'd be surprised if you had heard about the war I was in before arriving. I don't think you're from Fodlan. Unless you are in which case we'll have to try and remember one another when we return.
[ truthfully speaking, the young man before him didn't even need the mascara if he wanted to be striking. the wispy pale hair, and those equally long and pale lashes easily drew the eye without needing any additional enhancements or fussing... but it's those bright blue eyes themselves that pin you down and hold you in place. whether or not that's an entirely pleasant experience is admittedly something marco hasn't decided on yet.
he responds in kind with a faint, polite smile. ]
I should be okay, thank you.
[ after separating the garments from the pile, he can see it's a fairly simple set up. there is the apron, of course, and a simple, one-piece dress of all black, with a high collar and puffy sleeves that end tight around the wrists. after taking a moment to sort out a gameplan, he decides the dress it long enough it's probably okay he keep his pants on, and so without further ado he begins unbuttoning his long-sleeve before eventually casting it aside. briefly, his entire torso is made bare, showing well-defined muscles and a scattering of scars that range in age. the dress is shrugged on before long, though he does immediately find himself unable to fully reach behind himself to draw that zipper up..... seems he misjudged just how far up it had to go. ]
Ah — it turns out I'll be needing some help after all... [ sheepishly, he turns to present his back to the young man. ] Do you mind?
[ She doesn't push; they've just met, after all. But she nods to acknowledge those feelings. Even if the situation is frustrating, it's validating to know that she's not the only person who feels concerned. ]
( his jaw locks, a stubborn little huff of breath, as gladiolus' strong fingers hook around his wrist, cuffing it to adjust the pressure with guidance--it's not that he doesn't appreciate the help, but at the same time, he likes to figure things out with his own intelligence, his own knowledge, and having to be taught anything is maybe a thought that he's left too far in the dust. the good thing about his technique had always been that it had been so well-known, and so documented, that he knew from a young age what he would be capable of: but learning how to manipulate his body to do those things had been mostly an unknown. no one to teach him how to utilize both limitless and the six eyes--and though yaga had taught him a lot, and the elders of the gojou clan had helped, he had still been mostly alone.
blood wheezing through his breath, lungs collapsing, panic settling in: he had learned, alone, how to heal his body, without any understanding of shouko's cute little noises to assist him.
so he shakes off gladiolus' hold after a moment, straightening up his shoulders, though he does proceed with exactly the same amount of pressure--he works down gladiolus' jaw, his free hand turning his head the other direction so that he can work up the other side. he'll leave the slight stubble over his upper lip for last; he's worried about how to manipulate the space there. )
Guess we could always put you in a mask. ( lilting, teasing--but his thighs squeeze, tented around gladiolus' strong thigh, rocking forward, and back against it; all the bunched up fabric of the long skirt doesn't help create a lot of friction, but still, he's doing his best to rub himself out against him. ) Don't know what other services you need~.
( what was it they always said in silly hentai? oh, right. ) Master~.
( there's a loud repetition, as though he fully intends for the whole bar to hear it--but he's grinning, tipping forward, and he has to straighten back up again so that he can look more pointedly at his drink. it does look sweet, probably too sweet for anyone else to have more than one at a time; here he is wondering if he can get away with ordering at least three or four of these every time. the resort has really indulged his indulgences; it's almost a testament to his softer sides that he hasn't become a completely spoiled brat in this place.
he tugs the glass towards himself, holding it by the stem, and he takes a small sip off the top--some chocolate smears onto his lips, licking it clean, and once he can tell the flavor is gojou satoru approved, he beams a close-lipped smile at nanami. )
Okay. But I think we should come back after for another round.
( another mouthful of chocolate and liquor sounds like the perfect epilogue to sex: enough that it makes him laugh, a little, as he slides off the barstool, careful to keep his drink in his other hand while he holds onto nanami tightly with the other.
a nod of his chin forward, encouraging nanami to lead-- )
If you cut down, straight, between all the dice tables, there's a few empty rooms along that back wall. The best one is the one on the far left.
( --which, for now, is still unoccupied, at least. )
( it's not fully the reaction he's expecting--but it also isn't completely out of left field, with the way this stranger has been the whole time. in truth, he thinks that he's doing the rest of the patrons a rather extreme service: if he left the table, went off wandering through the casino, leaving this helmeted guy behind, what would happen? a few good rounds, maybe, and then a round that might wipe him of all his chips--and what then? anger? rage? an outburst like this, directed at mere humans who can't handle it?
he can't snap up limitless, not when he's touching him--but that doesn't mean he's without protection, when that elbow comes right towards his stomach, creating space between them. maybe it's more accurate to say that he creates the space between them, palms lifting, a little concentration of cursed energy mixed with his technique, pushing the other away just as much as he pushes himself away. a lucky little shift, given what he can tell about the power behind that pointy elbow--even with his training, it would have hurt. would have caused some damage.
with a little click of his tongue, he shakes his head. )
Is that how you treat your friends~? ( dramatically, with both hands sweeping down the front of his suit, he pretends to dust himself off. ) I'd hate to be your enemy.
( with a warm, lilting smile, he tilts his head, taking another few steps back: more inviting than anything, because if he can at least keep this guy's temper focused on him, it means that they can keep the other players at the table out of the middle of it.
with another smile, encouraging: )
Come on, let me tell you a secret about this place. I don't think you're gonna like it.
( there's a patient sort of breath, when fuuta starts--but by the time he says it's called being an adult, his eyes have rolled towards the ceiling, like he's standing in for another lecture from the principal. for being so concerned about 'acting his age' or whatever it is that's crawled up his ass, fuuta's acting a little like a child now, all grumpy faces and grumbling voices; his fingers tap a little, impatient, against the table in front of him, like he's biding his time.
and then fuuta just keeps going--his hand lifts, a lackadaisical wave through the air. )
Yeah, yeah, I'm a child, blah blah blah. You done acting all high and mighty yet?
( which leads them to fuuta's agreement, really, and while he could very easily snap something back about how none of that 'knowing his limits' has apparently kept him from doing anything, he bites his tongue. it's better if they go together, and he doesn't want to piss fuuta off entirely and have him leave; when there's two of them, it'll be easier to lie if they have to.
pushing up from his seat, he claps his hands together with a bright grin. )
Ha~? ( it's repeated with a certain level of playful rage--as though it's a real insult, something that will stick in his head. he knows it won't; of course he's terrible at this. if anything, he prefers it the other way around, though that doesn't mean that he doesn't offer a certain level of insolence no matter who's telling him what to do. at least this way, he's firmly in control: as far as the games go, anyway.
with a soft click of his tongue against his teeth, he takes a step back, purposefully knocking his knee in against one of leon's legs, draped over the edge. )
You know what? I'm not gonna take that kinda backtalk.
( he's so tempted to add another or whatever, but holds it back.
instead, he's leaving leon on the bed, taking a few wandering steps around so that he can find one of the many tables in the room, decked out in fervor. there's nothing that the golden peacock won't provide, if it's for sex: his fingertips wander the table, sliding over whips and floggers and blindfolds, before he finds something akin to what he's looking for.
he loops the ball gag up onto one wrist, humming now, playful, as he continues his search. )
Take off your clothes, down to your underwear, and lay flat on your back. Arms and legs spread out.
( his chin turns, tucked to his shoulder, to look at leon over it, behind his glasses. )
Thirty seconds. You don't wanna know what's gonna happen if you don't.
[Her willingness to believe in him and his plan, even one mucked up from the depths of uncertainty, desperately constructed in light of the knowledge that the most important person in his life is here of all places — it aches. That touch finds his hand, though his fingers are gloved to provide a fabric barrier against the contact of skin. He can still feel the warmth of her palm, safe and alive. It seems the pain of this situation sits somewhere beneath his ribs, visceral in how it sparks a pervasive burn inside of himself. There's no possible way he could deny that seeking grasp for comfort, so even in disguise, his hand curls to gather her fingers. The illusion of the Harmony is only an exterior one, so perhaps it will feel a little more real as a result. Their palms seem to fit together perfectly — made to be held by each other.]
It isn't, but we also haven't been assigned our rank yet. It's possible we'll be fortunate enough to acquire a position of high standing. Then we won't need to worry at all.
[They would have enough, at least, to support each other. To support her, so that she will not have to go out and comply with the demands of this gilt prison. He cares far less for himself.]
We can survive. [A promise. A squeeze of his hand to seal it like a letter.] As for the exit... don't worry about that yet. There's much of this place we don't understand, but if people can enter, then they can leave. There must be some mechanism for it — otherwise, a world like this would've been noticed a long time ago.
[Is it false hope, to believe that out there in the universe, some entity would know where they are? He's heard of worlds being hidden in the shadows of Aeons... but something like this couldn't escape all notice. And if members of both the Astral Express and IPC are here, there's hope.]
Robin. [Now he turns to face her more fully, though he seems to hesitate in the moment.] Will you promise me something?
( he's hunted and killed enough fiends, enough devils, that the feelings run like clockwork, shuttled along a track that's familiar; there's nothing to feel sorry about, nothing to be upset about, because every time he's fulfilled a mission, the opposition has always fought back. always made some comment about killing humans, maiming humans, always filled with such vitriol and evil that it's easy to feel righteous. to let everything fuel his anger and his guilt and his desire to wipe out the most evil part of them all, even at the cost of his life. and it had taken denji's stupidity to make him consider that there could be another option--that a painless death could be a kindness, for a thing that had never deserved kindness to begin with. he still thinks it's ridiculous, but that hard wall is starting to soften, even now; even at a distance, with neither denji nor power in sight, he still questions his resolve.
because robin's wings curl, like she's afraid of him. like he's going to go for her throat, slash and cut it open, stand over her body like a victory. he doesn't miss the little flicker above her head, either--and how ridiculous is this? that he should be faced with someone who would raise his guard up, only to be proven wrong, in the end? it's a necessary dig, maybe, for an ego that has hardened over the years, too focused on doing what he knows to do.
with a slow breath, he shakes his head. halovian. never heard of it. )
We aren't from the same world. ( he confirms it with a soft breath--and rather than close the space between them again, and spook her further, he takes a step back, almost inviting. like she can follow him, or she can escape out the other side of the bar--whatever makes her comfortable. )
I'm a Devil hunter. I know someone that looks...like you. A Devil.
( but one that cooperates with their squad, so he wouldn't have killed her anyway. he doesn't think explaining that now would do any good; he's already let himself into a complicated situation, and the best route is an easy defusal. )
It wasn't my intention to insult you, or your...appendages.
( his jaw rolls, like he can't decide if that's the right way to put it: but he takes another step, encouraging, as though he would rather continue the conversation in pursuit of an empty room. )
( it's not clinical at all--he realizes it, with the way that bakugou moves, with the tent of his knee up between his own legs. he hadn't considered that at all, hadn't considered that bakugou would touch him, while being touched, or that he would do anything but lay there and take it; obviously he's not going to say that out loud, though the temptation is there. he might be able to get away with pissing him off with his fingers buried inside of him, but he doesn't want to take that bet. instead, his lips part with a slow breath, like he's only just realizing that his own arousal might become a part of this: that his interest is hard to hide, now, given that they've done away with all their clothes. it matters less to him, as usual, than the mission at hand--the important part is to use the toy, use it on bakugou, use it until he gets off. anything else around that is collateral damage.
the words make his gaze unlock, like bakugou's turned a key--shifting, it slides to stare down at his face, instead, as though fighting against his own worries, his own bashfulness. if he can't look at him while he's doing this, that serves as some kind of weakness, doesn't it?
with a pursing of his lips-- ) I know you're not made of glass.
( a flicker of blue eyes down, purposefully dancing along the nearest scar, and then back up again. )
But you've broken apart enough times to be.
( still, he knows what's being asked of him, which means that he's shifting, twisting his hand enough to drag his finger back, despite the tighter clench that bakugou makes around it; two fingers in is just like the first, a slow descent to his knuckles and then back again, stretching the muscle there more carefully, like it's less about speed and more about success. the last thing he wants to do is have to push harder on the toy than necessary--which is why, after a thoughtful breath, he pushes in a third finger, curving them together for a little more width.
naturally, he's working his breath to steady as he continues, though this time when his head tilts, it's a curious lance of his gaze across bakugou's expression, the words parted only slightly with the effort of his fingers working inside him. )
Are you--afraid of anything? ( apparently he's not going for sexy talk, instead just airing out his curiosities--in his opinion, that's bakugou's fault for being scattered with so many egregious scars that he has to ask. ) You don't seem like--you are.
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