【 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.
[ The response might be muted, but it's exactly what Keita prefers. He never knows what to do with sympathy and concern—Aak's straightforward manner is much easier for him to digest. (However, getting distracted playing around with the scars would be antithetical to their whole plan here, so it's probably for the best that Aak reigns his focus in.)
Once the first of his arms is cuffed, Keita relaxes it, letting his wrist rest against the circle that contains it. The cuffs were made for this kind of play, so they're surprisingly comfortable, actually—not at all like what Keita was expecting, metal that would bite into skin. He's pleased to be wrong in this case, since these cuffs are less likely to cause chafing. ]
Please, be my guest. [ Keita's other hand comes down to help a little, but mostly he lets Aak be in charge of removing his slacks. Sock too, while he's at it, so that when the garments are removed Keita is fully nude stretched out on the bed.
There's no embarrassment or shyness at being so exposed, although Keita does shift a bit to make himself more comfortable. He's half-hard by now, and growing more aroused bit by bit the more Aak touches him. ]
[If it happened in such a way that Keita can talk normally about it, he's clearly standing here in front of him now, it would be weird to get all swept up in it. It'd be way too awkward if he were expected to give sympathy now when the mood was so playful.]
[Instead, he can unwrap his present, so to speak. Aak's fingertips and palms are like a regular human's. As he moves clothing out of the way, every now and then a bit of fluffy fur will brush up against the exposed skin. While Aak has a certain regard for Keita's clothes he's not polite enough to actually fold them or anything. They'll go flying over to a corner of the room as Aak stares him down.]
Hehe, anticipation, huh? [he can't blame him, seeing the half-stiff cock also gets him excited]
[Aak rests his knee on the mattress and a hand on each of Keita's legs. It's a little pause to touch and tease but not a place he intends to linger while he's still got set-up to do.]
[ the attention to his ear only has him more and more aroused - ears are erogenous for many species, but certainly for vidyadhara, with their long and tapered shape. but of course, it's the grasp of that warm hand that really has him gasping.
if seimei is observant enough, he might feel that there's something a little different about what he's grabbing - the shape a little unusual, compared with a human's, and more.. bulky? it's likely hard to feel, but dan heng has not one, but two cocks, both of them aching and hard already. ]
I.. mm. Only if you're sure. I'm - I'm different. My anatomy.. hah..
[ he certainly doesn't want seimei to be entirely turned off the moment he opens dan heng's pants, after all. it's a fair warning. ]
[ The fox leans in with even more excitement, encouraged by Dan Heng's obvious pleasure in response to his touch. Seimei is familiar enough with partners who aren't human, and as he feels the shapes pushing against his palm, he makes sure to tease each separate cockhead with his fingers, stroking them until they are both straining as he pulls his hand back to squeeze Dan Heng's thigh. He hums against the pointed ear, nipping at the edge. ]
You look perfect to me. I don't see anything wrong with your anatomy. Ah, since you've decided to pass, isn't it my turn again?
[ He's shamelessly cheating and makes no real effort to hide it as he flicks his wrist and magically makes the dice turn to exactly what he wants: kiss ear. Seimei immediately goes back to nibbling at the tapered edge and licking just inside the pointed tip before whispering against it. ]
I want to hold you right here. They look like they could use my attention, and I'm happy to give it to you. Why don't we finish the game here and I can give you some proper care?
[ Seimei kisses a hungry path down Dan Heng's neck back to his exposed chest, licking one hard nipple and letting his fangs press lightly against it to hint at a bite. ]
[ seimei certainly has the practice of seduction down to a refined art, and dan heng is little more than a willing canvas to be painted upon, his heart pounding and his skin flushed, barely able to do anything more than react, for now.
kiss ear, the dice command, and it should come as no surprise that dan heng's long, tapered ears are indeed quite sensitive, the attention given to them enough to send another shiver down his spine, goosebumps raising on his forearms. he feels overheated, almost overwhelmed, the drag of seimei's tongue and the practiced pressure of his hand enough to make dan heng whine under his breath, his hips rocking forward. ]
R-right.. it's.. mmn, it's my turn.
[ he says, then reaches for the dice with trembling fingers, scooping them up. he doesn't have any telekinetic abilities, unfortunately. he rolls them, receiving caress genitals for his efforts. his eyes flick downward just as seimei's mouth finds his pink, hardened nipple again, prompting a shuddering exhale. ]
[ Even if Keita's clothes do end up a bit wrinkled, it's nothing a trip to the dry cleaner can't fix—as long as Aak doesn't leave any holes in them, so he can wear them back home afterwards, Keita isn't precious about it. In fact, almost as soon as his clothes are off his body he stops thinking about them entirely, much more interested in the sensation of Aak's hands moving over his skin. ]
Can I be blamed? [ Keita says with a smile. ] You've made me so many promises, after all.
[ It's the fault of anticipation indeed, and the way Aak presses his palms to Keita's thighs certainly isn't helping matters, even if it's clear he's mostly teasing and not going to get serious until after he's finished tying Keita up. And hopefully blindfolding him—that part of their evening still appeals to Keita greatly.
Companionably, Keita stretches his other arm out so Aak can tie it up whenever he wants, then leans back against his pillows and lets his thighs fall open, giving Aak full access to his body. He can touch whatever he wants—Keita wasn't lying about being sensitive, though, so who knows what responses those touches might elicit. ]
[Murmured, a little thoughtful, a little disdainful. But KuroMisa doesn't pull away from the brush of Kizuna's warmth against the veil, a mere whisper that separates them from diving too deeply, too irreparably into the abyss.] Mm. A promise like that is leaning closer towards gluttony, I think. If you're so hungry, then what manner of partner would I be not to indulge you?
[Fingertips laced between Kizuna's press in against the weak points between sinew and bones, a snare that promises to be inescapable. But this prey won't try. That has become abundantly clear: he would welcome even destruction with open arms, trying to find what he seeks. What he seeks is something Matoba understands only conceptually, too denying to acknowledge it in himself, but it's to the man's fortunes that the pride that drives Matoba's mistakes flares in the face of it, confident in his ability to press himself up against the mirror and refuse it his reflection.]
[As he has done. So he will, again.]
[Pressing against the mirror once more, silky fabrics fold against Kizuna's heat in an embrace that brings their dance to a taut crescendo. The hand that isn't a snare smooths down from his shoulder, tracing him, and coming to rest daintily over that too-precious heart.]
A date's not much without a meal, is it? I'll warn you: I have expensive taste.
[ No two people with the same animal... wow, that's got to make for a lot of variety, he thinks! A fox might be fun. He likes foxes, though sometimes they make him a little wary since they're so dog like. But they're still better than actual dogs.
But at Sizhui's words, he looks up at him with actual sincere feeling in his expression, a softness he can't get rid of and a smile full of warmth. He needs to hug this boy, he needs to.
So, he will finally shuffle forward a little, awkwardly, so he can wrap his arms around Sizhui's shoulders and drag him into a hug. Carefully, so they don't bang their head underneath the table. ]
It’s okay. They’re not meant to last forever anyway.
[ With this, they must have satisfied the requirements of the game, right? Genya removes his hands from Sunday and then plops down onto the floor next to the other man, enjoying the quiet of the room before they’re thrust back out into the frenzy of the party. ]
I had sisters when I was younger. They’re gone now, but I still remember how to braid from them—they used to bully me into it every once in a while.
[ A good memory in a sea of bad ones. Sunday isn’t a young girl threatening to tell mother if he doesn’t comply, but the warmth that cottons in his chest isn’t very different. It doesn’t hurt that Sunday’s hair is just as downy as Sanemi’s. Light and soft to the touch. ]
[Aak traces his fingertips along the inside of the thigh, thinking about the wide muscle beneath the skin. The little paths he could appreciate because of his knowledge. As muscle gives way to tendon, it's time for Aak to roll off to the other side of the bed to go secure Keita's other hand.]
[There's still something strangely novel about his promises being anticipated... positively. It's good, it's a good thing, he's just gotten so used to thriving off of people's complaining and dread. Keita's acceptance and invitations are a change.]
S'more fun to be eager anyways. [his tail flicks as he tugs to make sure the next handcuff was there. He says that but a bit of his energy is more focused on getting all the pieces together. He wasn't as prepared to do all these ties and cuffs as he was, say, to do a surgery.]
[It's only after he's got the legs secure that he grabs the blindfold. For some people, being forced to watch would be part of the pleasure. Keita is so accepting of it, though, that Aak doesn't even consider it. He wasn't going to get any twisted expressions of trying to hide how pleasurable it was- and he wouldn't need the proof of their own hard-on in front of them. Even without the future sight angle he gets why being blindfolded would be better.]
[Perching now by the head of the bed, he does pause to brush his fingers through Keita's hair. He wouldn't ruin his clothes and he doesn't want his hair to get stuck in an unsexy position from the blindfold going over. Priorities.]
Thanks for waitin'~ [as if it were a briefly delayed date instead of a tying up.]
[sizhui hardly considered the idea of the fox being a canine, but if it was something that frightened wei wuxian, he wouldn't wish it upon him. in that case, the crow would be better, although he doesn't know if they could change shape once they had been decided. having wei wuxian be afraid of his dtf the entire time wouldn't be good, after all!
he meets the other man's gaze, grinning outright at the expression on his face; it's something sweet and kind and wholehearted and sizhui's own features mirror that look, even when wei wuxian moves in to hug him.
in fact, despite the slight surprise shown by the widening of his eyes, he can't stop beaming the whole time he's pulled into an embrace. he raises his own arms and hugs wei wuxian back, giving him the faintest squeeze, also making sure that they are careful enough to not hit their heads against each other or the table.]
[ no ceremonious gentleness as he takes the coat from him either. in all manner of speaking, Kagami is smaller than him; neither his bulk nor his length would be covered by wearing it properly, and so Getou begins tying the arms around the dip of his waist. it'll keep his ass and crotch covered and until he can find better accommodations, get his bearings, realign the compass. ]
[ gaze finding the man near him again, it's a somber, assessing thing, mouth curved into a frown and bookended by a lifeless hangs of black hair. just before it might be time to ask him what the fuck he's looking at: ]
I owe you. [ it's not like he meant to traumatize a normie — and at the very least, he still feels some personal responsibility. a finger raises. ] Just one.
[ and with that he turns to walk away, disinterested in giving Kagami a means to reach him apparently — but maybe someday he'll put eyes on the network username dragonlord and have an inkling. ]
[ fingers pinch filter and, as he inhales nicotine and tar, exhales bluish smoke, he looks only at her. strength in numbers is probably true, but it does bring up the difficult conversation he'd been having with himself since his arrival: is it easier to bed people you know, or complete strangers? maybe the answer is actually a spectrum of answers varying and changing depending on other factors, but inexperience refuses to even let him understand generalizations or broad strokes... ]
[ and as he pulls Ieiri's body gently against his own, he starts wondering at it again. he's a strong lead, and they move in rhythm and beat together, close enough to kiss, connected enough to feel the press of her chest against his upper abdomen, his broad hand in the small of her back. it's an analytical curiosity, and truthfully, he isn't sure if she'd prefer the bluntness of discussing it or the continued coyness. ]
[ frankly, neither is he. ]
What do you think? [ he asks finally, genuinely close, voice low and susurrous — close enough that her fringe tickles along his jawline. ] Is it easier to wind up in bed with someone you know, or a total stranger?
( like recognizes like indeed. always pleasant to see, and always enjoyable to play games with someone who knows the rules of the games aventurine plays. the question is repeated, and for a moment, aventurine just keeps on smiling, so calm and unbothered as though effort isn't being exerted to keep his body from falling victim to the prospect of pleasure itself. it's not surprising his mind wishes to wander to thoughts of being controlled, yet aventurine reins it back.
he can take his time, can let hands wander down to rufus' chest, his fingers careful over the buttons of his chest, curious when they wrap around his tie. the dress code certainly facilitates some things. )
Asking questions you already know the answer is quite like you.
( he's teasing, playing the long game, deflating not so much for the sake of deflating and keeping his true feelings hidden, but because it adds a particular flavor to their interaction. it makes it more fun, when aventurine pulls on that tie, firm but hardly rough, to bring rufus closer to him. there's a power dynamic at face-value here, like a struggle for control that is only a performance; aventurine is, after all, looking down at rufus, in spite of his position on his lap like a pet.
but maybe it's the wrestling itself that makes it worth it. )
Instead, let me ask you. How much do you enjoy controlling?
You could find out. If you'd just let me do whatever I want with you.
[He leans back a little, opening himself up invitingly to the touch of Aventurine's questing fingers, before letting himself be tugged back again by the draw of his tie. It's more playful than anything else, the way one might expect a performer to tease at an adoring audience — and really, that's precisely what Aventurine is right now, save for perhaps the adoring part.
There are better words than "adoring", is the thing. Intrigued, enthralled. The vibrator's remote, he notes, has a special button for a controlled burst, and he thumbs down on it in a short pulse just to see what will happen.
As he does, his voice turns lilting, coaxing — a dangling offer, so easy to crave.]
Don't you want to let me do whatever I want with you?
( he has to stop thinking of them like curses. they're not curses, but they look just like them: strange shapes, odd shapes, things that shouldn't be able to move, shouldn't be able to bounce around or slide across the floor, here and there, as though they still have agency. is his opponent creating them to puppet them around, or do they simply work under his command? do they have any kind of free thought? well, if they are like curses, then likely not: they respond to chaos, more than anything else. a single-minded desire for destruction, maybe, fueled by his companion's anger. or is it hatred? it's hard to tell what the mix of emotions is: is he enjoying himself, or is he miserable? or is it both?
they seem to splatter out into nothingness when they're destroyed; they don't really leave behind actual bodies. even in the mess that he's created, the mass of destruction that's now a lump of tables and chairs and glass and splintered wood, he doesn't see any of these creatures squirming around, trying to escape. it's like all of the ones that he's pulled away from guests and doors have just ceased to exist; but again, he can't feel any cursed energy from them. it's peculiar: and he loves peculiar, loves to reason and puzzle things out himself, but his friend here isn't really giving him the time to.
he teleports out of the mess, before it all collides, before it crushes him--and he had expected just as much, but the easy win, denied from him, earns a click of his tongue in dismay. )
I suck at making friends. ( he says, matter-of-fact, as he brushes off his sleeves, taking a few steps back to put more space between them; unlike vanitas, he doesn't have a weapon at his disposal other than himself and his techniques, and he wants to stay out of range of that odd, key-shaped blade as much as he can. it won't do anything, not with his infinity around him, but even so: there's something about it he doesn't like.
the six eyes easily size up the new additions; similar to the others, really. other techniques can't get through limitless, so whatever it is these creatures can do...he's not particularly concerned, but that doesn't mean he isn't still on edge.
he's really going to have to either knock this guy unconscious, or kill him. that should stop the onslaught of new creatures, and give the remaining humans in the room time to escape out the doors; even now, there are still some people working their way out of the area, and the noise is so loud that he has to tune it out. people yelling, screeching, shifting furniture, crunching on glass as they run; the golden peacock speakers are still playing music, despite the destruction, and it's all a little overwhelming.
one hand lifts--fingers poised, his eyes awash in that bright blue, but it's a trembling, flickering ball of red that launches out from his fingertips; rather than at the new arrivals, he sends it spiraling towards vanitas himself, hoping that at least he'll block it with that key-like blade: otherwise, the force of the cursed technique will likely shred away at his clothes, whipping through skin and bone, if he has any of it underneath. the power of that repelling energy pushes, urged on by his own irritation--dragging vanitas back, off the table, through the remains of a few behind him, back further, splintering through pillars and beams and anything that might stand between him and the wall at the back of the room. it's only once he's collided into it that he drops his own hand; a quick teleport has him in front of vanitas and whatever rubble he's caused with the collision, jaw locked.
he doesn't reach for him: he can't, not if he wants to keep infinity up. he's solely focused on vanitas, now--the six eyes tell him a little about those monsters he left behind, but he's discarded them as useless. not worth his focus. he may or may not be right about that. )
Are we done yet? ( his head tilts; one of his hands lifts, but it's only to wipe at his own nose, like the amount of cursed energy he's hitting again and again might be inspiring some kind of nosebleed--it doesn't, which means his healing is working as intended. ) You're not winning this, no matter how many friends you want to bring to the party. Accept defeat gracefully, or you'll accept your own death with less grace than the last person I killed.
( of course, it's said with the smear of a smile--but it doesn't meet the tremoring superiority in his gaze. )
( maybe it's something in her eyes. something pretty, something that moves like waves do across the tide, where sand seems to scatter but never really goes away; trails and patterns of it, across a shore, where the water takes something away, but always returns to give something back, all the same.
he doesn't feel like they're scars that can be healed, or it could be that he's never taken inventory of the ones left deep below the skin, severed across a heart that beats only for revenge, for retribution, and nothing more. he hasn't had dreams since he'd been seven years old, ten years old, when he'd wanted for things and then, quite suddenly, had nothing left to want for.
but it's her eyes, maybe, or the soft patter of her breath across her own lips, or the way that her hair hangs around her face that gives him the sense of some kind of peace; her fingertips touch at him and he feels more want, than worry, feels more desire, than determination. she isn't afraid of him, surely, not anymore: he watches those feathers that whisper above her ears like they might tell him a secret.
but does she really want him? could someone really want him, a husk of a man, burdened by a life that he's so willing to give away?
her laugh makes him embarrassed, but not in a bad way, not in a way that gets in the way of anything else. because he wants to laugh, wants to shake his head, and instead just lets his chin duck, like she shouldn't be saying his name like that; she shouldn't be able to say it so warmly, pretty on her lips like it belongs there. abandoned, his fingers give up somewhere in the midst of tightened ribbons along the corsetted back of her clothing; she doesn't peel his slacks off, and he leaves them like that, for now.
wordless, he pulls his hands back, measures his weight, and sits neatly on the end of the bed, his knees spread: not to offer her some kind of lascivious offer, but more in case she would rather find purchase on his thighs, than the bed, than the floor, than anywhere else. )
If it's Robin, then it's Aki. ( he decides, with some low, quiet thread of amusement. ) Unless you like hearing something else.
( the pleasure he gets from seeing bakugou writhe underneath him seems to war with the odd, lingering sensation of disappointment; that hand moves from his cock to his thigh, smearing his own interest there without permission, and his tongue flattens over his lower lip, like it wipes away some of that smug pleasure, some of that haughty hubris. beneath him, bakugou's body is tensing, shifting, pushing and pulling against the sheets like he might just peel himself away entirely, run and claw up the headboard and slink out from the pressure of the vibrator entirely. but he's surprisingly well trained, laying there despite it all--despite the way that he can feel the vibrator through his grip on it, rattling around the thin, slender bones of his fingers as he clutches at it. he's not one to force it too soon: he waits for bakugou's limits to expand, waits for him to get used to a little more, before he pushes forward, waits, snags it back a half inch to nestle it in again.
even that curse is a little funny; it's muffled between wet fabric, muffled there between his teeth, where bakugou's nagged his mouth into the pillow--his lips split with one raw, real smile, teased between shallow breath, before he recognizes the odd sensation on his face, and tries to wipe it away. bakugou's squirming helps: his own hips tense, like they want the feeling back but don't quite know how to ask for it.
it doesn't matter. the point of the whole thing is this--where his hand pushes, wags and nuzzles the head of the vibrator in further, until it feels like that's all that bakugou is willing to give; the bunny ears flick and nuzzle, teased in towards his sac, humming and roving around with gentle, tender circles. )
You don't have to talk if it's too much for you. ( he says softly, a little smug, despite himself--and rather than give bakugou the opportunity, he slides himself down, skin brushed to the top of bakugou's naked thigh; he uses his free hand to pivot, to hold bakugou's legs apart at the knee, to wedge himself down between them, rather than stretched out against him. there's some relief there, at least, that the twitch of his own erection is left between his thighs, rather than the mercy of bakugou's clenched fingers, as his knees bend to hold his weight there, spread out beneath bakugou's legs as though he's propping him up.
maybe like he's there for some other reason, really, except the vibrator is still stubbornly pushed where he might go, and his free hand is now clamped down on bakugou's pelvis, holding one side of his hip down to the sheets. )
Is it too much for you? ( he's more sure of himself, now that there's a little more space--and part of that, honestly, is his own brand of kindness; if bakugou's muffling himself into pillowcases, then maybe it's best to put this space between them, and not work to overwhelm him. ) Tell me to stop if it is.
[ Even just the drag of Aak's fingertips along Keita's skin is enough to make the muscle of his thigh twitch slightly, an almost ticklish sensation and yet surprisingly arousing. Just as Aak is surprised by Keita's anticipation, so too is Keita surprised by Aak's enthusiasm—but the weight of Aak's stare and his touch is pleasant, too, leaving Keita even more aware of himself.
He stretches out where he's guided, allowing both wrists and both ankles to be bound however Aak wants them, and when it comes time for the blindfold Keita tips his head back against the pillow to let Aak do what he likes. The brief pause to brush through Keita's hair makes him smile slightly, a small gesture but an appreciated one, and then the world vanishes behind fabric and Keita shivers at the strangeness of his immediate future-memories all going black. ]
My pleasure. [ Evidently. He's grown even harder in the interim, although not quite fully there. ] I don't know what I'd expected, but the restraints are surprisingly comfortable.
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