【 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.
I think that's understandable, I had seven years to get used to doing things alone. There are some things I can do without, though. Like the opulence reminding me too much of people who tried showing off their wealth in every method they had.
(never mind the debauchery, or texas being someone that gets attention herself given her proximity to the face cards. part of why she entered the lounge is thanks to her friends who are royalty ranks, lying about them giving her access did wonders.
or not so much a lie, they likely would have had her as a plus one to their visitations at any time had she needed it.)
Or how suffocating the spotlight can feel again, I can agree with that. I'm not ungrateful, but it feels like it's too much on occasion. (given her own low rank friends (the ones in the basement that is or adjacent) texas has seen it herself.) ....and I guess me getting stared at by staff a lot also doesn't help.
[Oh, well, indeed. For an instant, something dark and powerfully interested flashes through Rufus's blue eyes before smoothing back down into that same placid calm, and he wags the toe of his dangling foot a bit as if to signal the challenge Reno is going to have at accomplishing his feat, given the way Rufus is currently sitting.]
Looks like you'll be back on your knees again already.
[Oddly enough, that's a question that he doesn't get often — usually because most people wouldn't dare to suggest that anything even could be wrong with him to begin with. It draws him out of his thoughts almost immediately, snapping him back into the present moment — where he abruptly takes stock of the crumbs on her mouth and the half-bitten quiche in her hand, and, well — now it's a dice roll, isn't it.]
[At least Reno isn't one to give up too quickly. So he takes a breath, smirk back in place, and brushes over his suit to straighten it a little.]
Now, the question is, what do ya count as behaving?
[He chuckles, but after another moment, he figures to play along, and he drops back on his knees to crawl the distance between his seat and Rufus', stopping right before him and placing his hand on the knee he can actually reach. Holding Rufus' gaze like a challenge as he starts to gently nudge it aside.]
Hmm. I’m not sure I can say I have one, honestly. I prefer trying new things, rather than going back to a favorite all that often.
[ Sylvain has no idea what a lotus flower might look like, but he can hear the fondness in Wei Wuxian’s voice anyway. Even if there’s a hint of something else lurking there, too. Considering how complicated his own relationship with “home” is, he doesn’t press. That could very well delve into territory not fit for first meetings.
The bartender comes back a moment later anyway, with two glasses of apple wine. Sylvain lifts one with a smile and brings it to Wei Wuxian’s lips. ]
[It isn't inaccurate to make that call of judgment, Sunday's eyes turning down to his own appearance in a moment of self-recrimination — his hands attempt once more to smooth and flatten the wrinkles of sleep. As Ratio tucks his feet into a pair of ducky slippers, he sees his own glossy dress shoes, which can only mean...
He slept with them on, in bed.
Disgusted with himself, Sunday turns away in time for that request to reach his ears. His brow furrows, a headache beginning to form in hairline cracks of pain at his temples.]
If neither of us recall the situation last night, then we ought to share the blame. [Please...] I would never have gone to sleep in this state. It's unbecoming.
[Acquiescing with great reluctance, first he goes to the pillows — circling around the other side of the bed to get out of Ratio's way, of course — and begins plucking up his own feathers. Don't touch them? This is his mess to clean up?]
Am I to understand you've also arrived in this place against your will, then?
( it tickles, when she's close. he's not sure what else he would really expect--the little brush of her hair, of her feathers, of her breath is so close to his skin that it does feel treacherously dangerous, or maybe that's just because the only person he thinks that he's let this close is the type to pull his cigarette out of his mouth to clamp her own lips around it, as though there are no boundaries between them whatsoever. he can't picture robin doing that, not necessarily, but the fact that her melodic voice and lilting words are both hard to believe and hard to bleed the truth out of...well, that has to mean something. maybe he's thinking his impression of her over again, like a sketch that's now being painted in with color.
the casino is loud around them, the sound of various card and dice tables lush with the noise of not only the patrons but the staff; he reigns her in a little closer, his arm tightening, and considers that offer. would that make things better, or worse? her spread out on the sheets, her hands between her legs, and this atrociously bright thing--
his shoulders tighten a little, a small, resolute shake of his head. )
You're not cold. ( he can tell, even when it's just the curl of his palm against her back, through the corset of her dress. ) Don't pretend to be just for my sake.
( by the time they've cleared most of the casino riffraff, it's a quieter hallway that meets them--and the promise of private rooms, lines of doors down with no indication of what might be inside. with a glance to her, he lets his arm slip down, moving forward so that he can reach the first door on the left, twisting the knob to bob his head in--and immediately out, shutting the door firmly.
there's a minute shake of his head, a muttered 'occupied', before he goes for the first door on the right, creaking it open with less determination--and then he stands there for a moment, with a sigh, before he cocks his head in invitation. )
( the answer, as testy as it is, actually makes him smile--and he doesn't hold it back, feeling his lips stretch to meet the shape of it. it looks like something that he rarely wears, and maybe that's because he rarely meets someone with the same sort of bullheaded passion that he has, deep down: that failure isn't an option, that fear is admitting you might lose. even if it's his life on the line, even if he has to give it up to accomplish it--none of that matters, and the fact that it's taking some stranger in a multidimensional love hotel of sorts to match his determination feels funny, in some way, like some kind of sordid irony. this is the last place that he wants to be, and yet he's found someone who understands him better than most of the people back home could even hope to try.
but it's true, too: who the hell asks that during sex? unbidden, his breath escapes in a raspy chuckle through his nose, like he just can't help himself; his wrist twists, another gentle probe forward with the ring of his fingers, arching further inside bakugou without warning. )
Sorry, do you want me to be talking sexy? ( he waits a beat, his weight shifting, a curl of his fingertips up before straightening them back out again. ) I don't do dirty talk.
( but his perversely good mood seems to be prevailing, at least, when he draws his hand back, careful of the stubborn tightness around his knuckles; by the time he's curled his hand back, popped free of that ring of muscle, he's reaching it upward, snagging the atrociously pink vibrator off bakugou's stomach to slowly haul it down. between his legs, there's another sticky puddle of lubricant, some of it dribbled onto the sheets, some of it errantly flicked onto bakugou's inner thighs--he's still doing this one-handed, smearing the shaft generously.
with a roll of his eyes, annoyed, he has to tear his gaze off bakugou's heated face, looking down instead to make sure that he's thoroughly slicking up all parts of the damn toy, before he shifts, adjusts, holds the base and twists until the cold head of the vibrator presses pointedly to bakugou's hole, though he doesn't turn the power on just yet. instead, curious, he watches, at least as much as he can, as he eases and shifts and rocks the vibrator inside, letting just the tip of it fit for a moment, allowing bakugou's body to react before he tries going farther. if he positions it right, he thinks those stupid bunny ears will end up nestled around bakugou's sac; but he'll have to see how much bakugou squirms, first. )
[He can say as much with confidence — although the crack of the partition breaking cuts short the end of that discussion. Sunday stands up fully, short enough that he doesn't hit his head on the top of the vehicle's roof, although his halo is pushed down a few inches to accommodate.]
You opened it? That's good progress. Let me see.
[The way Stelle is doing the brute force work and he gets to sit around looking pretty/suggesting ideas. True teamwork.
Coming beside her, he leans forward to peer into the front seat.]
Hm... There's no one here, as suspected. Do you think you might be able to fit through this window?
Oh, Akira seems interested. Hmm! Yu's expression brightens maybe a small amount; it sure is interesting how much they seem to have in common. This becomes extremely ironic when looking at their later thread, but who's looking, right. Yu can't help a short huff of laughter at the question. Like, it's a very valid concern, here.]
They do. Promise. I wasn't expecting it, but...a lot of it even seems like a normal library.
[If you ignore how suspiciously comfortable the reading rooms are, it's almost like you're not there at all.]
[Silence falls in gently, without the discomfort that might naturally accompany two strangers who have only just exchanged names. The game has not yet started, and Sunday cannot find it in himself to disagree, however bleakly it paints their time spent in the resort so far. A waiting period — the gray static-charge before a storm, quiet and deceptive.
Before he can summon a response, there's a knock on the door, and a staff member enters carrying a tray of desserts: shortcake, tiny donuts glazed with red sugar, ginger cookies, strawberry cupcakes. These are set neatly on the table, along with... a bowl of peppermint candies, evidently 'on the House'. Sunday eyes these cautiously.]
Please, help yourself. I might be careful of anything given to us for free — I don't know what these are.
[Aphro??? Or something less sinister like the champagne's floating curse? Either way, unfun.]
I suppose I should see if my own ailment has worn off.
( that she sees himself in such a way does steal a genuine laugh out of aventurine - heartfelt and amused in spades, something warm blossoming in the pit of his stomach. it's not the world's kindest compliment, not when it has a few potential layers of envy in it, but it's... well. it's certainly one of the nicest he has received in his life, sigonian and all.
aventurine doesn't reply just yet; instead, he stands up from the bed, walking up to his shirt so he can begin dressing himself. there's something here, too, a weird tinge of... shame, perhaps, something aventurine can't quite pin-point, at stelle seeing the unsightly parts of himself. for all of his pretty face, his body is anything but, blemished with scars as it is. stories of a life that didn't treat him so kindly. )
Hahah, is that how I look to you, my friend? Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed? ( the irony of being called bright-eyed when his eyes are dull, etc. ) Sorry to disappoint, but I'm just like you, though I'm used to it. Is this your first hangover?
( how much soulglad did you drink in penacony, girl. still, properly dressed, aventurine searches through their breakfast table for a simple glass of cold water and, after more rummaging, a couple painkillers. it's unsurprising the house has put these there, considering the very long party they just forced onto their guests.
back to stelle he goes, offering both. )
It'll help with your headache. Everything else... Well, it'll take some time. But nothing Ms. Stellaron can't power through, hm?
[ WHY'D YOU HAVE TO CALL HIM OUT LIKE THAT......... Wei Wuxian leans back slightly when Xue Yang gets in his space and he frowns. This guy... agh... he hates their similarities, he truly hates it. ]
Then... I guess you'll have to wait until I get bored again, huh?
[ Seen all his notes, huh? Fucking Jin Guangyao, he would make sure you get killed a second time if he could. ]
[ The bartender returning is indeed a relief, a reason to switch away from unhappier topics. And as Sylvain lifts the glass to Wei Wuxian's lips, Wei Wuxian looks pleased and nods his head.
He'll take a sip of the wine as it's fed to him and makes a happy noise as he tastes it, swallowing down the liquid. ]
Oooh, it's quite refreshing. I like it! I like it very much.
HAHA yeah reno has a whole 10cm over aventurine!! hope he feels tall 🙂↕️
Four, and two. ( because aventurine is keeping track of it, of course, it's only smart to do so in any game one plays. ) Don't tell me you're already thinking of forfeiting? Or are you lamenting we're halfway through?
( because aventurine is neither a fool nor blind, having seen the way his new friend reacted to his kisses on his neck. it's not unexpected, not with how sensitive the neck is for most people. yet still, aventurine watches the dice roll, and land on quite the numbers.
his smile doesn't falter once, and he meets reno's gaze with his own. )
My turn to strip, is it? Very well.
( and strip he does, fingers skillfully removing his belt, unbuttoning his pants. aventurine doesn't so mind not wearing them, folding them so they don't crease too much, and over his shoulder they go. he's sporting simple black boxers, and judging by the way he stands there half-hard, neither does aventurine mind letting his game partner know he's clearly enjoying their game. )
[ It's a fair question in most situations, though there's very little the dice could come up with that would bother him. Some things that might have him suggesting they move away from the center of the floor first, but that was a different matter.
He'll just give a short, curt nod. ]
Doesn't bother me.
[ He'll even tilt his head to the side a little, give Wei Wuxian a little more space to work with. ]
[Something a little embarrassed, maybe verging on slightly overwhelmed, starts forming when Kizuna not only starts making the coffee, but brings it over to him with that bright and welcoming smile. It just feels like he's being taken of, maybe even spoiled, when he didn't even do anything to deserve this. He was just sort of a cranky asshole and this guy is just treating him so nicely. It's a lot to him, especially early in the morning.
He really is just one of those really nice people, huh? Scott knows they exist, it's not like he hasn't encountered them before in this casino. Helping him out when he was not only influenced by two suits at once, but also just acting out because he's been separated by his friends and family. He kind of forgotten that he isn't alone and people aren't crap and Scott knows that he can't just blame the party for that. He needs to be better.
Scott warms his hand the cup for a few seconds before placing some cream in there and stirring. There's a moment of quiet as Kizuna settles next to him, with the mutant listening to his words and slowly nodding.]
Hey. [He starts quietly, but that thrum of appreciation can be easily sensed and it's not like Scott's trying that hard to hide it.] Thanks. For all this.
[Her legs are strong enough that if she truly didn't want him going anywhere, it would give him a true challenge to dislodge himself, but as it turns out, Rude really wants to stay.
Whatever happened between them the night before seems a lot less important now that they've reenacted it in some way just now. ]
Nothing. [He considers saying thank you, but that would be weird, so he laughs instead, without warning.] I've never done anything like that before. With a stranger. [Rude doesn't know the first thing about one night stands, or proper etiquette afterward. If he's overstaying his welcome, he'll apologize for it later, but for now is quite content just like this.] You're a very impressive woman.
[ As for him, each tantalizing clench of her cunt squeezes out needy moans of his own. He appreciates the shift in position for a better view, and although Beowulf likes his own needs met, he's almost always more focused on the other person... at least until he can gauge what they're like in bed. Ishmael has basically used his body and his well endowed cock to please herself, and although he used his hips to rock into her, she definitely had more control over it all. After she peaks and that sweet friction is gone, Beowulf marvels at her through it all, even when she unravels in his arms. He catches his own breath as he holds her, allowing her to take everything in for a moment, but she can probably feel just how fully erect he is against her. ]
Hot damn--! I know you've got more of those inside of you, baby. It's my turn to fuck you relentlessly. Can you handle that?
[ A little bit of dirty talk, and the way he holds onto her, she can probably tell he wants to keep going. In fact, his arms slide out from around her waist and he shifts out from beneath her, slushing around what little water is left in the tub until he has her pinned against the back of the tub and he is facing her. One hand holding her by the wrist against the wall and the other one comes around to part her thighs and open her legs wide, one leg even has to hang off the side of the bath. ]
Let me see you enjoy yourself this time.
[ That same hand slides from her thigh to his dick, pressing his glans against her pussy. He's going back in; hold onto something. ]
[ There's a stubborn edge--not to her words, necessarily, but a glint to her eyes when she looks up at him. Albeit miserably. Because surely he's merely being kind and she truly has no idea how she's ever going to be able to make it up to him after he's already helped her once and she'd done him the disservice of forgetting a second encounter. ]
[ What a bold little guy he's bagged this evening. His hands settle back on Kabru's waist, but they soon slide fully around him, embracing him. Looks like they're going to relocate, but Beowulf keeps the other man close, lifting him with ease off of the chair as he stands. He must looks pretty silly holding Kabru with his legs around him like this, but he was so light and weightless in comparison to Kabru's strength. ]
Sounds more than fine to me.
[ Eventually, he does take him to what seems to be a quiet corridor, but there are many other doors leading to other rooms. ]
Oh? Color me surprised. A game you haven't grown tired of yet?
( the curiosity is genuine, all things considered. the way aventurine's gaze almost glistens in curiosity, in spite of the dullness of traumatized eyes. the offer of a game is much like dangling fresh steak in front of a starving lion, to a gambler. aventurine shifts in his chair, leaning slightly forward. rufus has his full attention. )
I suppose that counts for talking as well. It will give me insight into the kind of person you are. ( for a man whose work revolves around connections and understanding how deeply his client's ambitions and desires go, at least. ) Do tell. What game are we playing?
[ He just gives her an exhausted look that fades away quickly once she starts eating with her manners intact. He didn't take his eyes away from her just yet, letting his attention on her linger for just a few more moments as the seed she planted in his mind took root.
Huh. She is pretty cute.
Troy then looks at the other tray, which he supposes he can eat. He usually starts with the eggs, something he never gets tired of eating in the mornings, but since Stelle is still under his surveillance, he opts for the toast as well. It makes it easier for him to watch her when he can just shove the entire thing into his mouth too. But he doesn't, taking a reserved bite of the toast as opposed to Stelle just shoving it into her gob. ]
Making your jaw work too hard like that is gonna be bad for your headache.
[ He feels her get wet against the damp of his own underwear. He's surprised by the kiss, actually jerks back, but slowly eases back down as he realizes that she isn't trying to get his face away. He tries mirroring what he does; he may not be a brainiac, but he can follow a lead when he sees one. He closes his eyes. It feels... Weird. Warm. Ishmael makes a small sound, and it sends thrills all the way down to his cock. He supposes that means it's a good kiss. ]
Why... the fuck... didn't you drop 'em... before you got so bloody close?
[ Heathcliff huffs, face flushed and cock hard, but he lifts her hips with both hands, then pulls her panties down before he can get in his head about it. He only realizes how hard he's breathing when his head starts spinning. The wet of her panties left a small, glistening smudge on the inside of her thigh. ]
Fuck. All right.
[ Suddenly, trying to keep from coming seems like insanity. He leans over her, gets his own underwear down and over his feet, then immediately tossed away and forgotten. Her skin against his cock feels... probably a better word than fine, but Heathcliff can't think of it. Thinking of bigger words to use is Faust's job. Yi Sang, if you want puns.
Those thoughts flow in and out of his head with no real beginning or end. He hikes up Ishmael's hips again, discovers it's easier to angle himself in the right place when her hips are higher, yanks a pillow to stick it under her ass. Okay. Learning a lot. Fuck. ]
You... need to tell me. Where it goes.
[ Heathcliff looks furious about this because he is. He doesn't know which part is which, or what goes where, and a lack of knowledge keeping him from what he wants makes him want to tear his hair out when what he wants is right there. And that's not even touching the fact that he has to admit this to Ishmael, of all people... but what else can he do? There's no one else to ask. She's the expert, here. ]
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