【 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.
[ Whether he means that offer legitimately or not, she replies with her usual brand of blunt pragmatism. ]
A trip to the burn ward isn't my idea of a good time, believe it or not.
[ Her gaze slides over him from head to toe - nice suit by the way - taking in this kindred spirit's unique sense of style with muted curiosity. Are those staples she's seeing? Huh... very punk rock of him. That goes some way towards explaining where his suggestion stems from. Mayou meets Dabi's sharp-edged smile with the same lazy sidelong look, allowing the attendant at her side to yank more clothes over her head without much change in expression - still stubbornly planted in 'family cat getting put in gag outfits' territory. Truly the most relatable of vibes.
Oh look, another dud dress. Shocking. Off it goes.
As for his bright idea... ]
I might. [ Her eyes narrow - less lazy now, sharper, caught somewhere between speculative and actively scrutinizing. It won't do her any good if he's promising something he can't deliver. ] Are you offering to run distraction duty or just spitting hypotheticals here?
[ It'd be all kinds of disappointing to get scruffed at the door and marched right back to square one. Nothing personal. ]
[ given how loud he is, she didn't expect him to be so obedient. something she files away for later, as she spots a room further away from the main area. ]
I haven't decided yet. [ testing the doorknob reveals that it's unlocked, and she guides him in first with a steady and firm hand at his back. ] But I'm open to suggestions.
[ the room isn't very large and there's no bed, but there are a number of chairs and a few loveseats scattered around forgotten. this may have been a storage room of some kind, but it should suffice. ]
[ Heathcliff gives Ishmael a funny look. This is all backwards and forwards... ]
You feelin' all right? We ain't been outside T. corp in a minute. We're lucky to be anywhere near leavin' with our bus, what with that debt them loonies tried to saddle us with.
[ Did the stay in their mercifully air-conditioned holding cell make Ishmael snap or what...? Can't be too different from being cooped up on a ship for months, can it? ]
( there's a slow breath pulled through his nose--and dramatically let back out again, as though he'd fully been expecting gladiolus to just roll over. he knows that it's harder than it looks, and despite the many ways that he's able to bend gladiolus and wrap him around his finger, it doesn't always work in his favor; sometimes he gets his way and sometimes he doesn't, and though he'd never say it out loud, he does appreciate the few times that gladiolus puts his foot down--it's attractive, but more than that, it makes him feel less like that honored golden child, the clan's best hopes. so while he sets his mirror down, and tucks the mascara aside, it's only so that he can rustle through the little makeup kit that he'd brought, digging long fingers in for the thing he's looking for.
when he stands, the long skirt of the maid outfit drapes around him, covering up the black stockings underneath; he thinks that might be the only thing that gladiolus finds attractive about this whole thing. )
Well, first of all, girls don't walk around with a five o'clock shadow, so.
( one hand braces against the bottom of the makeup bag: the other whips itself out in a flourish, brandishing the small electric razor that he'd grabbed, on purpose, when he'd finally gotten gladiolus to agree to accompany him.
with a slow smile, he takes a step forward, and then another--he straddles one of gladiolus' thick thighs between his own, the skirt bunched up and trapped there as he sits himself down on his knee, facing him. )
Nothing I can do about your hair, though. Or your voice. So we might need a wig...
( he's musing this as he sets the makeup bag down into gladiolus' lap; he needs both hands, one to hold gladiolus' chin and turn it, and the other to move the razor up close to his cheek. he doesn't have to shave a lot himself, but he has watched suguru do it more than enough times to know what he's doing; besides, he's definitely sat in the bath and watched gladiolus do it himself, so many times that he's lost count. )
[Normally, he wakes early. Up at 5:30 or 6 to get started on an exercise or jog. But sometimes, this shitty place has other ideas and he's left worn out, sleeping in for some extra hours to recover from staying up too late the night before. Doesn't mean he's at all used to getting dumped in some damn car instead of sleeping in his bed. Amid the neon lights and lush interior of the limousine, he's tucked on the seat nearby, blanket drawn around his ribs and one arm crooked under his head in slumber.
At least until someone's voice warbles its way through his mind. Interrupting whatever dream he's having as if some guy's calling at him from underwater. Brows furrow, doggedly trying to shut them up before going back to sleep, but another call dislodges it entirely. Red eyes open halfway, glaring in half-asleep irritation at the leather in front of hi-
Leather?
-dea what this is?
He snaps awake instantly, adrenaline and anger fueling hot shot through his veins. One second he's down, the next he's upright in a seated position, one hand slung out in front of him with palm forward in a threatening mixture of strike and back off. Lips peeled from bared teeth in a snarl, eyes narrowed as his vision quickly focuses in on a man in front of him. Red hair, slender, fucking gross opulent robe... and a disgustingly posh vehicle interior. He abandons the man for a few seconds to check out the inside, then growls and drops his arm onto his shin.]
Fucking bastards did it again. Every other damn month! [He slams his fist against the small bar next to him, rattling the glasses on its surface.]
[She can still hear the murmuring and a bump around and then the slam of the door, and at this point sleep is pointless. Her eyes are open and staring in the dark under the covers, for the first time since finding out about her powers mourning for not having them.
Mel's not grumpy, per se, she's just having a headache, she cannot recollect last night and has a weird feeling that something's very off. Or maybe that's just her upset stomach after the questionable amount of alcohol, feeling queasy.
She finally peers from underneath the covers when she's asked about coffee, not really having any sort of reaction to Wade's looks (she's honestly seen worse, have you seen Viktor?), except for the part where he's naked. He really couldn't find anything to wrap himself with? There's no way there's only one sheet, the one that she's specifically using.]
...just cream. [Mel finally sits up, holding the covers up, but otherwise looking disoriented and frazzled.] What the hell happened here? [Aside from the obvious.]
[ regrettably, nehan is not hiding any sort of superhuman ability with which to eradicate all cuddlers. his constitution is as impressive as a fifth grader's balsa wood bridge. twisting around to try and wake itto up is as much as he can manage, so after one last (failed) effort, he just sighs and flops uselessly back into place, oozing like a defeated cat trapped under a dog.
this may as well happen. ]
Yes. I love... spooning.
[ he is so tired. it's not uncomfortable, just annoying, so he doesn't put up even the semblance of a fight, his only upset being a furious swivel of one of his ears. ]
Do you usually cozy up with total strangers, or am I just a special case? [ they are going to have pillow talk, because by god, he does not want itto to fall back asleep. this man is a giant and he will never be free if he does. ]
[well, at least waking up in a vehicle isn't strange at all for this guy. he cracks open bleary eyes, glancing out the window to the garage; the first of his words are half-yawned as his brain starts to kick back into gear.]
Sorry, sorry, must've dozed off before we... parked? Are we here already? Sure wasn't much of a... trip...
[oh. while the interior is definitely very bus-like, this is an unfamiliar vehicle. this seat is far too plush, his ass far too comfortable for this to be the bus seat he's used to. there's a pole? why is there a pole. faust would not install this.]
W-wait a tick, where are--
[gregor begins to stand, and regrets it just as quickly as he realizes what he is (and isn't) wearing, quickly falling right back into his seat with his face lightly flushed.]
...I don't know what the most important question here is, anymore.
[where is this where are his CLOTHES what is he doing here who are you--
enjoy waking up on a fancy-ass party bus with this man. luckily, the size of the vehicle means that his big bug arm isn't immediately getting in your way! congratulations.]
game rooms, etc-
1: [first of all, who talked him into sex toy roulette. he looks a little bit like he wants to just melt into the floor as his watch gives him the next instructions after he rolls lucky number thirteen.]
You don't really mean that you want-- listen, all other complications aside, what do you do with a spoon?
[there is such a low chance that he's going to actually complete this.]
2: [you can also come across him studying one of the houses of cards curiously. you know what, this one seems safer... so if anyone else is also checking them out:]
Say, you wanna give this a shot? Looks like it's simple enough.
((ooc notes- hi! i don't have full permissions or a kinklist so for now i'm just keeping it simple: he's not going to engage in nsfw stuff with teen characters, otherwise i don't have any firm no's, but feel free to ask if you aren't sure of going for something! you can dm me with questions or just to hit me up. :>
i didn't want this to get too long but if you're interested in the roulette failure penalty scenario i'm down, and if you want to wildcard me on anything else, go ahead!))
( there's an immediate shake of his head, playfully balking at the thought. )
No, the handcuffs chose you and you're sitting here, anyway, so.
( --mostly he just thinks that it'll be easier for someone who looks like this guy to get them drinks; already he's twisting in his seat, as though trying to confirm that the same bartender from before isn't working on this side of the bar. still--with a sigh, he twists to look back at reno with a grin.
the handcuffed wrist lifts again, but this time, it's to show off his watch instead. given his rank, he's got plenty of chips to spare, honestly, so he'll do this round. )
Fine. I'll pay, but you're ordering. Get us the worst and best thing you can think of.
( with a slow smile, expectant, he lifts his other hand to flag down the bartender--and then it's another expectant smile, as he swings his gaze to look at reno, waiting. )
Probably...? The air conditioning has to come from somewhere.
[ The glitz and glam of the place has grown a bit tarnished after a couple hours, so of course Mayou's finding this little excursion much more engaging! No personal stake in the outcome, hanging out with a stranger, some (however slim) chance of property damage as a treat... what's not to like? Mayou straightens up once Rin's done her communing with the floor. ]
[Sunday awaits her return patiently, though with no small amount of discomfort. Suffice to say, he was not raised to be idling in a woman's bedroom suite like this, and he can't help that oppressive feeling he is somewhere he shouldn't be. He makes a point not to go rifling around any of her things; eventually he does take a seat at the foot of the bed where the plates for breakfast have been left on a tray for them. In her absence, he doesn't begin eating yet — although now he recognizes the hunger gnawing at him after however long it has been since he last ate.
At her reappearance, Sunday looks over and... clears his throat. Ah. The feathers.]
My apologies.
[It comes quietly under his breath.]
... What is your name? You said you were a genius astrologist, correct?
[ The man looks like he's resigned to his fate, which amuses Wei Wuxian greatly. He can already hear the hypothetical funeral march playing in the background. Still, it's not as if Wei Wuxian is really going to slap him. Or, at least, not hard.
He is curious about the clinic comment though, he's gotta know the details there. ]
You got it.
[ And then he lifts a hand, ready to slap...!
... Before bringing it down in a rather gentle bop against Broca's nose instead. Look, he's not going to hurt the guy, this is all for fun. ]
[ before gregor can really take in the interior of the vehicle he's found himself in, he's going to hear a series of harried knocking on the door. and a whole lot of familiar orange through the glass window.
it's ishmael, of course, looking quite panicked. open up bugboy or else ]
[should've? yes. bakugo grumbles before resigning himself to wake and rolls over onto his back. sheets scuff against his chest and stomach as he sits up, settling around his hips. one hand goes to the side of his head, rubbing at his temple and above his ear. right, right. he's up. no more sleeping. now he has to deal with a shitty headache and a stranger in his bed.]
This shitty place dumps people into bed together a lot.
[he was alarmed enough to try and pop the guy with an explosion earlier. then got over it. bakugo drapes an arm across his shins and looks at the man's back and the basket in front of him.]
Tch, the hell's that? Was it here when you woke up? [he extends his arm as nehan moves the bottle.] Oy, gimme that.
[ That comment seems to make the corners of his mouth curl deeper, as if Kizuna is taking that as a benchmark and also somewhat of a dare. He does like to play the game, even when it doesn't benefit him, when it pushes the limits of what someone might consider self-preservation; resistance only gives so much room for information. Though it's not without its place, all the same. Maybe he just has a natural fondness for terrible attitudes, for blonde and unforgiving red —
Kizuna reaches across the table to deposit the dice in his awaiting palm, fingertips brushing just so against its breadth. ]
Kagami Kizuna. [ He leans back, head canting. ] The table's all yours.
[ His gaze does cut to the box as he waits for him to roll. ]
Though it seems like this isn't your first game of the day.
(the second he began lying, karna felt that nagging sense in his mind. must he remind him? no, the clown might appreciate it if karna didn't expose him for now. discernment of the poor was a cheat skill when it comes to detecting these things, no matter how good a liar a person is, karna would know. he doesn't comment further on that outside of scowling; a change to the usual of karna though briefly before it fades to karna's usual blank expression. douman as usual is difficult to deal with.
fine, he'll play along. later he'll question him further on why he finds need to hide these things, but that might not be any time soon. douman always did have his usefulness, he's sly and that's not something to overlook. not while they'll likely both be stuck here. actually. maybe that's better for them.)
Karna.
(that first, before he turns his attention back into the question presented to him. hmm, interesting.)
Not worthless, I see it more as an honor. I won't give up my life needlessly.
[Truth is, Hawks doesn't see much reason not to give in to the hedonism at least a little. It seems like the point of this place is playing this Game 52, and that's the only method he can think of that might lead to getting out and getting home. Then again, Hawks has never been either shy or a prude about those kinds of things, so it's understandable why the other man might narrow his eyes like that when Hawks flirts.
It's cute, though.
When the other man says that they brought a pot of coffee, though, Hawks slides to the edge of the bed, and stands up, tying the robe roughly around his waist since there doesn't seem to be holes in the back for his wings. While the other guy lights up a smoke, Hawks sets about pouring himself a cup of coffee and doctoring it up with sugar and milk. It's not his ideal, but it'll do to tie him over, and he makes his way back to the bed, settling down in the sheets with legs crossed, sipping at his mug.]
Haven't decided if I trust the food yet.
[A shrug of well-muscled shoulders and he watches the pretty man smoke for a few moments, lips pursed around the rim of his coffee mug and sipping. It's a companionable enough silence, and Hawks closes his eyes for a moment, inhaling the warm chocolatey scent of the dark roast in his cup and enjoying it.]
I don't belong here either. In fact, I had some pretty serious stuff going on back home that I needed to take care of.
[For all that the words are somewhat dire, his attitude and tone of voice are casual, and he sips at his coffee again, gold eyes looking at the other young man over the rim of his cup.]
( the kind thing, he figures, would be to explain the rules. talk about the different chip values, or the fact that now this stranger is likely deep in the red--that the watch on his wrist has likely already neatly calculated the amount that that fistful cost him, chips scattered onto his side of the table. but what would be the point of that? he can't take advantage of a situation if he's always playing nice, and besides, he'd been the one that advocated for the strong not needing to take care of the weak--or the other strong, as it were. he doesn't have to help this powerful stranger.
doesn't have to make things easy for him, either. to hide his smile, he picks up his glass, taking a sip from it in a way that says how unaccustomed he is to the taste--if he finishes the whole thing, he thinks the headache will be just enough to prevent him from having any more. )
You make me sound so nasty. ( --comes the complaint, as the dealer sets the cards in front of them, and deals out to the other players. with the gentle clink of ice shifting in his glass, he sets it down; lips pursed, he looks at his card, then at the stranger's card, and taps the table for a hit. ) Maybe I like the face you have underneath better.
( a warm, almost teasing smile--and he taps the table again, knowing that the card total on his side will be an even twenty; he stops there.
with an expectant swing of his head, cheek tucked towards his own shoulder, he looks over at his new friend's card, waiting patiently to see how he plays. that'll determine whether he decides to declare another personal bet or not, and gives him the opportunity to lean further in his direction, crowding his corner of the table. )
[ In a game like this, where they're supposed to be revealing information and risking toppling a more and more precarious structure.... going first is the obvious choice, at least in her mind. Anything else would show uncertainty and insecurity. He might not have a taste for this casino's over the top festivities and games, but at the very least, sitting across from him, she looks to be having a good time, appraising him like a jewel in the rough. Is he fun to toy with? Or a total killjoy? That's what she's more interested in, than the house of cards in front of them.
Plucking one of the horizontal cards out of the structure is easy enough, without disturbing any of the surrounding ones, so she does that first, flipping the card once through her fingers to get a look at the question. ]
Let's see... "what is your favorite season?"
[ Lucky, she got an easy one. She tosses the card nonchalantly onto the table in front of them, crossing her legs just as he is. ]
Spring. It's when all the flowers start bloom again.
[ When Coquelic settled in across from the other woman, she did so lazily, stretching out like a cat on the opulent sofa, drink in hand. One gets the sense she's very at home here in the Golden Peacock. Case in point: ]
If you're too shy, you could just forfeit right now to me.
[ She doesn't have any qualms about playing this game.... if they're going to be made to play, well, she's going to do everything she can to win. Competitive, yes, but more than that? Hungry for more power and status in this place, and willing to play along with their little parlor games to get it. At least she might have some fun while doing it. Coquelic splays a hand out at the dice in front of them, laughing — the sound airy and haughty. ]
( it's said with a scoff, as though that's a paltry offer--but he's interrupted by the staff again, where this time, a red tie is tentatively held towards him, and despite his better judgment, despite knowing how to keep a tight leash on his temper, he immediately offers a stiff shake of his head and a flare of his irritated gaze. )
No red. ( it's said between his teeth to the poor guy, who immediately bows in apology. ) Don't come back with red again.
( it's too much like him--his jaw locks for a moment, fingers flexing in at his sides, but rather than lash out, he simply lifts his arms, folding them in loose against his chest as the staff disappears again in search of something else.
well, it would be easy enough. the girl probably weighs less than the little lunatic back home, and he's hauled around taller people, heavier people here; with his quirk there to end any hope of pursuit, they could get into the party and disappear somewhere into the crowd. )
...I pick you up, we run, you hang on and don't get in my way. ( he says it quietly, conversationally, as the staff hold up another dress towards her, and then seem to think better of it, skittering away again like it's not quite right. his arms drop, casual--but one of his hands stretches out, a half-damaged open palm towards her. ) C'mere.
It's pretty commonplace, here — most of the people who've been here long enough have.
[ She remarks lazily, twirling a long silvery strand of her hair around her finger. Coquelic is dressed equally skimpily, though her breezy comfort seems to imply she's either very confident, or used to dressing this way. Maybe both! She trails her hand across her bare collarbones, dress covering the bare minimum of her chest necessary. ]
If you're unlucky enough to get a bad placement, you have to play if you want your life to improve. Just like the real world.
[ She smirks. ]
That being said, if you won't play, I can find someone else willing.
[ The teasing gets a sharp look from Gen, his short brows pinching together as he moves to cling tighter to the column as if proving a point.
Though it really just makes it look like he's fighting harder to hold on, whether that's entire true or not. ]
Not even a little bit.
[ And that part isn't entirely untrue. The man might not look like it at a glance, but he does put himself through some pretty strenuous physical training on a daily basis. While back home he happens to have some impressive pieces of technology that help him do a lot of literal and metaphorical heavy lifting, he's got to be in pretty good shape in order to use them in the first place. ]
[the thread was dropped, rip conclusion Bakugo drums his fingers on the table surface, eyes narrowing as the dice get dropped into his palm. Takes more time than necessary to lay them in there. Kizuna's fingers find the other guy's palm is surprisingly tough-skinned. Worn so from enduring years of explosions thanks to his Quirk. Which he'll probably see at some point in his interactions with Bakugo. He curls his fingers at the end, briefly catching Kizuna's fingertips on purpose before pulling his hand and the dice back. Then palms them a few times before looking at the options.
Ugh, does his face fall. These bastards. There's even more selections this time, dammit! His luck... And throws the dice onto the surface, felt-muffled rattling purring across as they bounce and roll. As for the box, it's something lewd, considering the little bird logo on the top cleverly incorporates a dick in the design. Perverts.]
A-10. B-8.
[And with the key, that means... Chomping down on his ear.]
Shut up. Roulette's got the best chance to win money, but you get this crap along the way.
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peacockstop2025-01-15 09:00 pm
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