【 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.
[A little bow of the head, though somehow this does NOT help his case in trying to appear monk-like.]
A most assured proclamation. Oh, youth, so certain in your sensibilities, mmhm.
[And......now. That's a question. Douman blinks, before his smile grows wide with obvious mirth - its like he just said something equivalent of an inside joke.]
Ufufufu. I am not technically alive, you know! I am a Servant of the Throne, a shadow of humanity...if I had to answer the question, since I have only been as "alive" as long as I've been in this place...why, right now!
'cause I'm not ready to get up. And neither are you.
[ the problem for nehan is that in order to push that bottle into the oni's cheek, he has to be close. unless this guy's got some kind of hidden physical super strength then there's no way he's match for the greatest oni ever? then again, it's not like itto is really trying to hurt him. call it 'polite roughhousing'. persuasion of the physical form. ]
Gimmie five more minutes and I'll crawl outta bed. That sound okay to you?
[ does nehan have a choice in the matter... being held in those strong arms of his... ]
i'd apologize but you basically dared me to ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
[The man...lizard...thing that hops onto the stool across from Del (which he just shoved one of the hotel residents out of, but don't worry about it, it's fine, it's cool) is clearly drunk, from the way he sways and nearly topples right back off to his out of sync blinking. It's not the fun kind of drunk, either; the vibes are bad, the kind of belligerent that's looking for a fight or a hookup or both, possibly at the same time.
Bltizø leans one elbow on the table, pointing a weaving finger at the purple sinner(?) across from him. He idly scratches his chest, the sequined suit they'd forced on him at the door catching the light in frankly upsetting ways, all swirls of neon color that looks like the 60s puked in a stripper's glitter collection.]
Y'know, I can help with that. What're you into, bondage, roleplay, butt stuff?
[ truthfully, marco appreciated the sudden cold splash of water down his front. it helped chase off the cloying daze of the evening (week?) that had otherwise left him blankly staring at the ceiling overhead.
still, he is much slower to get up, if only so he can pull on a nearby pillow to cover his lap as he does. ]
I...
[ oh, it's strange to find himself on the other side of this conversation. had enough time finally passed that the house saw fit to fill its rooms again? that must be the case. distractedly — stalling — he rubs a hand down the side of his face, momentarily obscuring the gruesome scar left behind from years past.
after a moment, he tries again. ]
You're in one of the suites of the hotel. Do you remember arriving elsewhere, before? Or is this your first time...
[ ah, no matter. ]
This place has a habit of placing its guests wherever it likes. The nudity is... just as common.
( it's that same feeling again: that same feeling, seeing the glimpse of those feathers, a glimpse of that golden hair. for a second, just a second, he thinks maybe the resort is fucking with him; maybe it's just a hallucination, brought on by this ridiculous party, that there's no way hawks could be here again after everything. hell, hadn't he just recently dressed that statue of him up for christmas, and presented it to that stupid hero kid like some kind of peace offering? and now there's this: now there's hawks himself, weaving his way through crowds, eating and laughing and drinking, like he's brand new, like he's never been here before in his life.
strange. he doesn't think hawks remembered it the last time either--forgot all about their stupid fake wedding, the honeymoon suite, the arcade, all of it. the result of what happens when someone gets turned into a statue? or could it be something else entirely?
he follows him because he's curious, because there's nothing else better to do in this damn party; by the time that hawks bumps into him, he's been tailing him from the bar, and with that little jostling, his own drink threatens to spill, a glass of three fingers of whiskey, neat, that licks at the glass and settles before staining his hand, or worse, his neat suit. )
Seems like you're always in your cups, hero. ( with the slow curve of a smile, bemused. ) Almost wasted my drink, here. Think that means you're buying the next round.
( pointedly, he lifts his glass--and swallows down a mouthful, nearly draining it, in indication. )
You miss me this time, pretty bird? ( between swallows: he tips the glass again, drinking it dry. ) Haven't seen you in awhile.
[Yusuke immediately messes up the dice, not wanting to give the staff the impression that he tossed them or anything; Akira doesn't deserve to be put in such a position right off the bat. But... he can't help but admire the flush that covers his cheeks, and it's hard not to flush in response as well, since, well... implications.
He sighs, pushing hair out of his face, and pretends to signal for some drinks from the guy that's passing by with glasses of... whatever. It's not like they are going to drink it, it's a distraction and delay, and giving him the opportunity to completely turn his back to onlookers so he can talk with Akira.]
Trust me, I wish it was for myself. I've been here for... a while. [Very long while. In ten days he'll even turn 18.
But thoughts drift from that and Yusuke shakes his head,] It's not a person specifically. None that I know of anyway. So beating up is off the table. As for the punishment, [he removes the glove from his left hand and shows Akira the suit of diamonds that is slowly becoming distorted and breaking into smaller diamonds, covering his palm,] there is some kind of curse placed upon the "guests" if we don't, well.
[He motions at a couple several tables down that are making out on top of the table now and from the looks of it, might take it even further.] This thing triggers personality traits that you'd never act upon.
[The words move up and down in a playful lilt - a cat who's dancing around just prodding a cup right off the table. Another pause, before he retracts his hand. This Servant can play nice. I am a harmless sort. I am not to be feared..]
....Now! [And he's moving to sit up in place, clapping his hands together - his robe is definitely not very well-attached, draping down his arms and broad shoulders.] Shall this Servant wait for your order? You are much the worse for wear. Please. Let this Caster attend to your needs. Relax. I may not be your Servant, but I will be most happy to help.
[The thing is, Akira's right. It's a weird thing to say. A weird thing to think, too, when it comes to a total stranger.
And yet, the thought is there now, stuck firmly at the front of his mind.
But he's not going to puzzle through this right now, either, so he reflects Akira's expression instead, pulling levity back into the conversation -- if for no other reason than to distract himself from the puzzle trying to nestle itself in his thoughts.]
Could've been the fall. [He points upward, lightly, at the floating party guests.] What do you think? Need to have your head checked?
[ does he? robin has an inkling of who might be the mystery man behind the door. the voice is familiar. seeing his face would probably do the trick. the buttons just below the window don't seem to be working. it makes sense because the car isn't running. who would guess a vehicle housed in the golden peacock would act just like a normal one? amazing. ]
No, I don't. [ hunger. thirst. some kind of mix between the two. as he taps against the window with his knuckles, robin frowns at how useless he feels. ] And were we married? I feel like that'd be pretty important to remember.
( getting dressed up is a waste of time. it's not like it matters what he looks like, or what they put him in: the scars are always going to be obvious, the staples are always going to be obvious, and very little is going to offset the color of mangled, charred skin--and that's what he's said, patiently, and a little impatiently, to the staff at the door of the party. naturally, he'd been dragged out of line for being underdressed: which leaves him here, at the mercy of staff trying to decide which color tie will look best on him, running back and forth. the last one they pulled had been a pale lavendar--and he'd immediately declined.
for now, at least, he's got on a pair of slacks, nice shoes, and a white shirt that he's stubbornly unbuttoned around the collar to keep it loose--that's part of the issue, too, that every time the staff returns with another tie, they neatly, and gently, do up the buttons again.
the voice at his side draws his attention, but it's just the narrowed glance down towards the girl: just in her underwear, which makes him scoff a breath. )
Why don't we just burn it off and call it good? ( with a glint of a smile that doesn't meet his eyes--his hands are working, once again, to undo the buttons of his shirt collar. )
Or just go in your underwear. Bet you'd get all the attention you want. ( another ghost of a smile. ) Gonna be undressed probably more than you'll be in full dress, with this kinda party. Wanna make a break for it?
( honestly, at this point, the idea of picking her up and hauling ass past the staff, right into the party, is far more favorable than waiting for the 85th color tie to be 'not quite right on his complexion'. )
His hand remains in the air, almost like a beckon to come forward without the curling fingers. It doesn't appear to bother him that he is the smaller one here.]
Viktor. I won't hurt you.
[Dominant or not, he doesn't have any intentions to be truly mean here.]
[ They might as well make the most of the private time they have together while they can, and he naturally is all about skin ship here. His acquaintance could keep going lower if he wanted to also. Beowulf encourages just that after he’s been properly touched on the chest, taking hold of Wei Wuxian’s hand and guiding his hand down his core, stopping shy at his robe belt. His voice falls surprisingly soft for someone who has a lot of stage presence. ]
Be as curious as you’d like, baby.
[ Though, the next question earns him a chuckle. ]
A sword? Hell no! I use a steel chair! I’m really pissed off it’s not here with me!
[ Oh, damn. He struck gold here. Another strong willed, busty babe. He knows this time considering so many of them are frequents on the streets and the casinos he finds himself in. His city isn’t cut out for just anyone.
But he follows, obediently, with a crooked smile on his face. ]
Yes m’am.
[ Though, his eyes bounce down to the rope in Clorinde’s hands after they finally tear away from her physique. What a knock out! ]
( a randomized card is way more fun than being given a card in accordance to his current rank. he draws an ace of diamonds instead, assigning him as submissive, and aventurine is fine with it. if he's lucky, maybe he will find someone interesting.
if he's luckier, perhaps, he'll find a familiar face - not one he has met, per say, but with how tight the dealings with the xianzhou yaoqing are, and the current agreements with the xianzhou luofu, it's hard not to match a description to a face, and find the seat of divine foresight himself within the lovers' hideways.
aventurine minds not if he's not recognized - the ipc is quite the large company, and most of the contact with the xianzhou alliance is done by the marketing department -, but at least he's dressed up just as nicely, thanks to the house. he did miss wearing a nice suit. )
It's not so fun if I just tell you, is it? This is, after all, a party in a casino. Should we not add some gambling to this game?
[food and drink he's never experienced churns inside his stomach, liquor vestiges pound in his veins and head, and now he's given this to assist? along with a man who apparently needs validation on what sort of person he should be.]
Huh. You should really decide your character before opening your mouth.
[as if he believes this strange would "be" anyone another person wants him to be. perhaps if he offered it devoid of emotion and baiting tempt, a vapid idiot or power mad greed would take him up. swinging his legs from the bed, he plants them and rises, dragging the fabric around his waist off after him. tattered edges slap the backs of his thighs and he smoothly tosses one bottle into the other hand. frees up a hand for something else.
oh look. now he's giving information. a bare turn of his head suggests he's paying attention at least.]
I figured that out a while ago. [when he attempted to leave. even the corridors of darkness remained locked to "within" this thing.]
So, didja come in here on your own, or are we bedmates supernaturally?
It's only when the kid rolls over and pushes himself up, reacting more than responding, to someone being in the same bed with him, that Hawks recognizes him. The kid who won the Sports Festival, and he's pretty sure they'd talked a little at some point when he was interning with Endeavor. Hadn't they?
In his slightly groggy state, it takes a moment for him to remember his name, but eventually he snaps his fingers, "Bakugo." he says, nodding as the boy seems to shake out whatever hangover or headache he's dealing with after addressing him. Hawks keeps that same relaxed attitude as he lets Bakugo sort himself out, even though his mind is ringing with questions and a mild adrenaline spike. Why is Bakugo here? Why are they in bed together? Why is Hawks here? What does Bakugo mean, by 'you're back,' as if he's been here before?
Instead of asking anything, for the moment, he shifts and makes sure he's completely covered by the blanket, stretching out his wings with their singed spots and awkward feather regrowth and then folding them back against his back. Little things to do, to keep his hands busy.
"Back?" he asks, after a moment, the intonation of his voice still calm and collected, a little amused, like this is a funny little incident of getting lost or something, and not jarring and a little horrifying, "You say that like I've been here before."
The cold is not the same for him, but he does feel the pressure of the blast. It swooshes his hair forward into his face before he turns to glance at the vents.
He's stuck with a demon and a ghost apparently.]
No, I thought you may need to get warm.
[The AC switches deftly to heat to blast them both with hot vibes, and it makes him look again at the vents.]
[Hawks is not so lucky - as a Wildcard, it seems he has almost no rights, though his personality and training have held up enough that he'd managed to get at least a nice suit for the evening. He's kept it clean and neat, despite wearing it for many hours at this point, and his attitude is just as neat and calm. Rightfully, anyone should be freaking out a little at the situation, especially with what he'd come from before waking up here, but Hawks looks unphased, unbothered, his elbow on the edge of the table and chin resting in his palm.]
Good taste!
[Eyes half-lidded as he replies that, and then considers the second half of what she'd said. The question. His friends, huh? He can't help but think of Endeavor, for a moment, chiding him constantly whenever they see each other, and he chuckles a little.]
Well, I'd guess they wish I'd stop being myself.
[It's said with a smile and a chuckle, but his eyes are sharp as he looks at her, sizing her up for a moment.]
At least the game isn't so difficult to understand on just a few naps worth of sleep. Hawks lifts his chin and looks at the guy across from him, who seems disheveled and exhausted and maybe a little cranky. Hawks keeps the smile on his face, leaning his elbow on the edge of the table and then his chin in the palm of that hand, gold eyes half-lidded as he looks at the other young man there.
"Well, you've got one on me. This is my first time." he says, chuckling lightly, "I hope you'll be willing to go easy on me! I'm a total virgin."
Not literally, of course, but it seemed like an amusing commentary considering where they are.
"So, I guess now I have to actually pinch your thigh, hm? That's not too bad, is it? No biting my fingers off now!"
With that having been said, Hawks shifts and reaches out, lightly pinching at the top of the other guy's thigh, expression amused, "Your turn."
[sounds like a mirror, albeit quieter with less words. he said those same words months ago, snarled back in anyone's face who attempted to warn him about the payments. what a surprise someone else new has the same damn reaction.]
Che. I said the same thing.
[reality's a bitch and he fucking hates it plenty. without knowing if this guy's been around for a few days or is drinking off the first hours of his existence, it's not his problem to coach him in results. even now, wheels spin behind those dark eyes. he rejects it with a defensive dismissal, but he's thinking about it all the same. good, someone who takes a warning seriously rather than recklessly charging into the unknown. he'd been the same, dismissive, but listening...
turning back to the casino, he leaves his focus on other people, brows furrowed above a face radiating "don't fuck with me" vibes to anyone who might be looking for some fun. bristly ass wallflower, this one.]
Depends on your suit. They all end up screwing with your head and body, making you go crazy until you fuck around with someone.
[that's the nice way to put it, each suit has its own preference. he's disgusted with his own: spades. as for the other question-]
[ there's a flicker of confusion before he decides to simply acknowledge that wizards are not humans wherever shylock happens to be from, but whatever those differences are outside of that probably aren't important to begin with. he stopped questioning things a long time ago whenever they didn't fit his narrative. not because he wants to live in ignorance, but because he wants to live with the belief that everyone is telling the truth. who could lie to him anyway... ]
Out of reach? [ he gasps! ] No one's ever out of reach! Even if it takes you years and years and years, I'm sure you could find them again!
[ hehe ]
Maybe I could help you! I don't know where Western Country is. Is that in the States or something, or...
( it's not like he'd woken up here out of the blue--well, that's something of a lie, really, given that he's sure the resort knows precisely what it's doing. fall asleep in one place, wake up in another: it's the same recipe for disaster he's seen happen countless times in his year stuck in this hellhole, which means that he's not all that surprised to be staring up at the glittery roof of some glitzy limousine, when he comes to. the lack of clothing isn't surprising, either: one hand palms between his thighs to tuck the silken edges of the robe between them, as he sits up.
the woman in the car with him is clearly less interested in him than anything else, which is fine with him--he watches her go for the small compartment that holds the mini bar, brows lifting, though he says nothing, at first. instead, he's reaching into cupholders, feeling along the seats; what he pulls back is a half crumpled package of cigarettes, but that's still good enough for him.
dragging one out, he sits up enough to slide his back to the back of the seat, the whole length of the car the distance kept between them. )
You wanna take it easy? ( the wine, he means, a lazy drawl of amusement; his thumb rubs over the end of the cigarette, lighting it up, and the end glows as he sucks a breath through it, lets it out. ) You're not in purgatory, calm down.
( though, he does feel for the door handle nearest to him: it's locked, even as he messed with it, twisting it this way and that. perfect. )
[Concord, on the other hand, is more rude than his folksy tone might lead one to believe,]
I don't think you could.
[for, like, a few reasons. He's not entirely a brat beyond the words. He's a military type, he can follow orders when given, so Concord will approach to be within reach.]
[ Fuuta snips back that retort without looking up from his Watch at first, before looking over the rim of his device and realizing Wei Wuxian's actually looking at him properly. Ugh. And here, he'd been looking to have a quiet break.
He ends up heaving an overdramatic sigh before leaning an elbow against a knee, propping his chin up on his hand as he stares at the other. ]
Almost a -- [ Pause. Scowl. Actually -- ] ... a little over a full year.
[ Not something he's particularly excited to think about! As punishment for raising the topic, Wei Wuxian is treated to an ornery growl. ]
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