【 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.
[ She starts to object with a scowl and then her companion leans right over the table and there are fingers against her lips. A little caress and tap that leaves her red-faced and a little heated - a shiver that goes running straight up her spine. Oh, yeah. This definitely reminds her of Luce in a frustrating and enticing way. ]
I didn't say it was hard.
[ She growls the words, which means she's probably not as seductive as she could be. But she leans over in turn and after a brief moment of hesitation she slides the tips of her fingers over her lips. A little brush; her own nails are trimmed short. Utilitarian. But the touch is there - warm and a little hesitant, but she's participating. ]
[ For the second time since arriving in this resort, Aerith wakes up in a compromising position in an unfamiliar place. At least this time she's in a bed rather than the spacious backseat of a car, but even her robe from her first awakening is entirely gone; her dress from last night is draped over a chair nearby, her modesty protected only by the thin drape of the bedsheets, her long brown hair splashed around her like extra fabric on the pillows.
Until Tseng speaks, she's only vaguely aware that there's someone else with her. Which, in and of itself, is odd—she certainly does not recall going to bed with anyone else, nor should she have drunk anywhere near enough for her to simply forget doing so. She enjoyed some drinks, of course she did, but the unfamiliarity of a new place kept her cautious, and as far as she can tell, she has perfect recall of the rest of the evening...
And so it's with something akin to confusion that emerald eyes blink open, that she stretches first one arm and then the other before sitting up, bedsheets held modestly against her breast. Her brain processes his words before it does the sights of the room, and so she's halfway to formulating an answer, lips parted, when she recognizes her companion.
Aerith stops, and she blinks. ]
...Tseng.
[ She doesn't know whether to feel relieved, or happy, or concerned, or embarrassed, or something else entirely, and so instead, she tries for a small joke: ]
Surely you'll get paid extra for finding me all the way out here.
[ Randomly transported to a castle — was Mo Manor a castle? No, but it was a manor. So. Maybe that counts too.
Either way, Akira is making leaps that Wei Wuxian can't explain but he's going to... roll with the logic anyway because it's the closest thing to an answer either of them have. Sure, why wouldn't that be the reason they're here? ]
It could be a castle. We'd have to leave the car to find out.
[ Fitting her hand into the crook of his elbow as they walk, Kizuna chuckles. It does seem like he has an idea of where to go, cutting through decadent halls at a relaxed (if not confident) pace. There's a short stairwell he turns into, matching his gait with Mona's as they ascend the steps covered in red velvet and gold embroidery, lush greenery and pretty marble marking the path. ]
If the rumors are true. There's supposed to be a more private venue for ranks 10 and higher, if the actual party starts to lose its shine...
[Hawks keeps it neutral, still trying to suss out what the atmosphere is between the two of them. Bakugo had been kind enough to explain the timeline issue, and well, he can't tell if Dabi is from earlier on, knows Hawks as an ally, or if he's from after Hawks had exposed himself. Best to play it as neutrally as possible, fraught as the situation is, until he knows for sure. The last thing he wants is to trigger a knock-down drag-out fight in the middle of a high-class party, not because he'd be embarrassed but because there are too many people here to take out of the way of Dabi's flames for the small amount of feathers that have grown back in the past half-day.
Still, it's impossible to hide the slight damage about him, the charred down on his wings, and Hawks feels...well...a little out of his element. Usually he's the one on top, with more information than the other party, but in this case he's at complete disadvantage. He knows he's been here before, and if Dabi had been here for almost a year, he'd certainly run into whatever iteration of Hawks that had been here before, whether it was just him from a different timeline or from a different reality altogether.
It's going to give him a headache if he thinks about it too much.
That hand hooks around his waist, then, urging him toward the bar, and he frowns a little at Dabi before putting that neutral expression on again and speeding up just a touch so the other man doesn't have to urge him on, doesn't have to touch him, though whether Dabi will stop remains to be seen.
When Dabi asks if he's had the explanation about what goes on here, Hawks finally cracks a real smile, just for a moment, and a single little chuckle.]
I've been told, but you know, I think I'd like to see you blush, just to know you can.
[games, huh. he remembers them. only so much as watching ventus learn and play them with his stupid friends. never often enough to learn them himself. too busy getting his body torn to shreds by an damn geezer. he's not looking to make up for lost experiences in this place. this is simply something to do. unaware of what's happening in the watch or notching in his account, he settles in for the round. whether or not he expects this guy to teach him the rules goes unsaid.]
Most people are. [as bored as if he were stating the weather. even when they try to hide it. thinking of ways to advance themselves, concerned with their image or status, using others to their gain, always so eager to battle for their own, people are nasty. pretending to be otherwise makes them worse. he takes the card dealt to him and flips it up, but in a way only he and the other guy can see. obviously the intent is to keep the cards concealed until revealing later. he gathered that already. if the signal's to take another, then he looks to the dealer expectantly.]
It's not my face. [his voice runs mean, spiteful as much as it's flippant.] Mine's uglier.
[without any knowledge of the rules, he simply exposes a total of 13. nothing near 21, but certainly not enough to challenge the dealer with any confidence without taking another card and hoping for less than a 9.]
( low risk and... a variable reward, depending on who is asked. not bad. he hums in thought, waging his options. it's not so bad a game to play, but is it fun, for a crazed gambler? how bad could it be, to hit on an important figure of the xianzhou alliance? )
Surely we didn't come here only to talk preferences, did we? How about - to every preference we don't confess to, the other gets to do anything they want. A risk makes it more enjoyable, don't you think?
( well - and whether jing yuan accepts his proposal or not, aventurine still snaps a die into existence. eight faces, and he offers it to the general. )
Why don't you do the honors? Ah, and if you're wondering if the die is enchanted in any way, I can give my word that it's not. There's no fun in that.
( there's a faint roll of his eyes, and it's pointed that he doesn't agree--doesn't say anything, really, except to close her hand in his just for a moment; it's just so that he can tug her closer, maneuver her in front of him so that he can bend at the knees, bracing one arm under her ass, and the other arm around the backs of her legs. she said don't carry me in some weird position which means he's carrying her like a sack of potatoes, instead--he lifts, straightening, and drapes her stomach over his shoulder, letting her top half dangle down his back. once there's enough balance there--
well, then it's just one arm, braced around the backs of her thighs, his other hand jerked out in front of them to clear the way. )
Comin' through. ( he says, loudly--there are at least a few staff members who try to stop him, but all it takes is a small snap of his fingers to light up one of those pretty chiffon dresses, blue flames that lick and spit at the hems, clamoring hungrily up the material. with even just a small fire to contend with, there's enough chaos--and distance--that he can keep moving forward, his steps light, not quite a jog but something quicker than walking.
an elbow gets him through the double doors at the back, and then they're in the party: the sudden burst of sound, music and chattering and drink glasses and cards and chips, is almost as bad as all the lights, wincing slightly as he turns, moves forward, tries to put some distance between them and the door behind them.
with a little shrug of his shoulder, jostling her playfully: )
You want me to put you down here, princess? ( a soft snicker of breath. ) Bet we could find you a jacket or something, at least.
( especially if they head towards some of the casino tables--plenty of drunk people, unawares. )
the boy's earnestness is sooooo adorable. the cuteness aggression is strong. shylock can barely hold himself back from reaching over and pat his silly pink head like so. ]
I'm afraid your world and mine aren't one and the same. But I may have exaggerated the part about him being out of reach.
[ he casts his gaze on something further away, as if murr is fuckin around here somewhere. ]
No need to rush. I can take my sweet time till I can reach him fully.
[ She's still grinning like the cat who got the cream as Red goes through the motions of her task, her fingers gracing the natural curve of her lips. Even if she objected, yeah, she's definitely starting to think of this woman as a stuttering, flustered virgin — an act which is obvious, considering the appraising glance she gives the redness in her cheeks, brow arching every so slightly. Well, it'll do for now. Satisfactory. So, she won't hound her anymore.
About this round, anyway.
Languidly, she reaches out in front of her to pluck the dice from the table, rolling them with an equally slow and lax flick of her wrist, which ends up landing on slap and neck. Could be worse, she supposes... this is the kind of prompt someone who's a total brute wouldn't make alluring at all. In the confines of her own mind, she arrogantly thinks the other woman lucky to be sitting across someone so willing to give her a fun time, instead of just crudely slapping her and being done with it. Expectantly, with a thoughtful hum: ]
Hmm... lay your chin here.
[ She gives the order with ease and confidence, reaching out a hand and cupping it as a perfect chin wrest. There's not much room to push back or disobey, at least not in the sureness and force of nature of the tone she delivers it with. One thing about this woman is that she is accustomed to — no, actively expects to — order people around. Falling in line with her general air of haughtiness and confidence, and connecting the dots that she's a woman used to having people under her thumb is simple. She'd say unless you're going to chicken out?, but she'll throw her a bone and give her a chance to prove herself. Moreover, she'd like to see this bristling pup obey a command. ]
( that hurried movement seals the deal--he doesn't want to be touched, especially not by these hands, which means the crumbling wings at his back are in fact his own doing. with a slow curl of a smile, he lets his fingers arch back into his own palm, arm dropping down, and he lets hawks guide them forward, lets him clear the path so that they can make it to one of the empty sides of the bar. there, he comes in at hawks' side, sliding his empty glass down on the bar top before he tilts his head back, trying to get the attention of one of the bartenders.
there, he orders them two beers--and jerks a thumb towards hawks in indication. )
This pretty thing's paying. ( that earns a nod from the bartender, who shifts to pull them two beers off tap; he hadn't specified, and doesn't really care. the drink is only his secondary interest. ) Well.
( his hand closes into a fist, rapping lightly on the top of the bar, as though he can't imagine having to explain this--but his lurid grin says otherwise, as he angles his head, looking at hawks' through playfully lidded eyes. )
Didn't know you were that kinda pervert. I blush all the time.
( he doesn't. sometimes he's not even sure if his face can get that red anymore. )
But, since you're asking. ( the bartender returns with two glasses, and he palms at one, sliding it closer so that he can take a sip off the top, licking away the foam left on his lips. ) It's a sex resort. You gotta fuck to make money. Fuck to earn cards. Earn the fifty-two cards of a deck and you're out of here.
( his brows lift, as he takes another gulp of beer. ) Or so they say, anyway.
Sharp as ever. Noticing he was being looked at. He'll learn in a bit, when they reach that discussion topic. What Hawks does or doesn't know isn't going to stop him from making sure the other hero hasn't been dumped into this stupid place injured and lost. It's not issue for him to realize Hawks is doing the same. Tch, don't look down on him. In a few weeks, he's going to be 18. Kind of sucks he'll be having a birthday while kidnapped and imprisoned in a stupid sex hotel, but there's not much he can do about it now. There's no shame in his scars, even if he didn't have that same attitude about it when he entered U.A...
Now for the messy part. Trying to explain to Hawks how the House works. He props his elbow on the crux of his knee, jaw shoved grumpily in his hand as he messes with the invisible timeline midair with his other hand. "No. I'm from further in our timeline." Our meaning their general world's placement. "Probably about a month and a half in the future from your last memories." Given the burns on Hawks' feathers and lack of scars, he's guessing the man came from either after the Nomu attack on Endeavor or sometime during the PL War.
Obviously this mean he can answer a lot of questions Hawks has about their world, but... that's only if the man wants to inquire about them. Some people would say 'fuck no' to knowing their future. Not that it matters much to them here. Dammit, it pisses him off he's happy to see Hawks here again. He should've stayed! Not gotten kidnapped! Goddamn peacock. And yet... he's still glad.
"Aa. Shigaraki, Dabi, and Compress." Aka: Nutsack Face Lackey, Bacon Face/Crispy, and Maho Aho. Now for the painful part. "Endeavor was also here for about the same time as the previous you. But he's gone now."
[ w is a merc, which means she's been exposed to a whole hell of a lot. bloody, gruesome battles, raging, sleepless parties, and a thousand flavors of hedonistic delights, sure. all of it from a young enough age to ruin her forever.
but as much as she's a merc, she's never been a part of anything. ines and hoederer were always their own thing, and hoederer knew very well what mystique her codename brought with it, employing it to great effect. the result was that her reputation often preceded her well enough to make whatever job was on the table exceedingly easy, but apparently there was always the one drawback she's never really considered.
never HAD to consider. she's never wanted to be close to anyone and she's always known it's for the best that she never will be. and when your ideal has always been fucking theresa, the flawless, radiant king of sarkaz... it wasn't like she ever felt like she was missing out on anything either. there's never been anybody else like theresa and even now, w isn't about to start believing there's someone who could even try to compare, so why bother at all?
the thought of touching anyone in anything other than an act of violence makes her sick. and the thought of being touched... w jolts away from texas the second she extends her hand, as if the threat is there and real.
stupid. she's just showing her something. w mumbles a few sarkaz curses beneath her breath and takes a peek. ]
Real nice. They branded you like a burdenbeast.
[ oh, she's going to kill everyone responsible for that fucking mark. and then she'll hunt down their families, their children, end their bloodlines by her blade. she stares hatefully at the suit, and then blinks innocently up at texas. this is too heavy and serious, she needs to be a dick and smirk and comment: ]
I don't know, you seem pretty testy already. You sure you're not bugging right now?
[ Unfortunately for Aerith, her dress isn't offering the same level of comfort as Reno's suit. The lace and gems are all itchy, and she's managed to catch her arm on them a few times, earning herself little scratches in the process.
But, hey. At least she looks cute. Right?
She's on her second champagne of the evening, sipping lightly from the flute when a familiar figure approaches, making her eyes light up, her hand reach out. Her fingers come to rest on his wrist, curling slightly to take a hold if need be. ]
Reno—you're here too? [ Despite everything that may have gone down between them in the past, there's genuine relief in her voice. ]
[ you would betray me like this.. here..... in the golden house of cock
it probably burns oxygen to chat, but better to keep the mood light, even if he's in no real danger of hyperventilating. he's accepted the circumstances of being stuck in a car out of nowhere, rubbing his temple and shutting his eye because there's nothing worth looking at, anyway. ]
...I don't remember.
[ hotel hospitality. at least whoever else is stuck in this car probably got shoved into the backseat, since he's alone in here. ]
And if you're asking, then I take it you didn't put me here.
[ as hilarious as it'd be if someone kidnapped him and went about a weird play-act otherwise. ]
It seems that's the will of the dice, [Matoba chuckles, giving a light shrug with a roll of his shoulder and rising slowly from his seat across the table. He takes two strides closer, just enough to stand over Shylock and cast his shadow, his good eye falling to the mark just inside of his shirt.]
[How interesting. Certainly not just a coincidence, Matoba wonders if that mark is something like a curse, or more like a protective charm. He reaches out, brushing fingertips along the shape of Shylock's collarbone with a touch that barely brushes enough to scratch- light enough to tickle- and then round with a flourish to feel out the skin over that mark.]
[...He doesn't sense something malicious from it...]
[The path of his fingertips dips just under the curve of Shylock's chest, and nails claw lightly against the top of a rib before his hand draws out again. Maybe just enough to leave a light scratch?]
Hmm. I'm not especially partial to it either way, [He decides, a flippant dismissal as he steps back to his seat and plops back down.] But the prompt was a little boring.
Maybe yours will be more fun. [He pushes the dice back across the table for Shylock's turn.]
[ Wade answers defensively. But a moment later his tone brightens with amusement, certainly an unserious fellow. To his credit, he at least sets the tray down within easy reach before turning away to investigate the closet for something to throw on. Which means she gets an eyeful of bare, very scarred ass. Sorry, Mel, you deserve better. ]
Mistakes, likely, just not the fun kind.
[ Because then there would be signs, and Wade doesn't detect any of them. Ask at your own peril, because he's also prepared to go into that in gross detail if prompted.
Tossing the decorative pillow aside, Wade throws on a robe over his back and yanks the sash into a tight knot before slipping his feet into some slippers with a groan. They're incredibly a thousand times more comfortable than crocs, which only further upsets the whole fucking balance of Wade's understanding of the world all over again.
...God, his head hurts.
He makes a dull whine through his nose, turning on his heel to approach the bed again, wiggling his fingers at the coffee before pouring them each a cup, leaving the cream closer to hers before taking his black. ]
What about you, remember anything? [ Something smells incredibly like bacon under that cover, so Wade immediately goes for it. ] Oh, thank fuck.
[ Red isn't really a virgin - she's just not all that used to public displays of affection. Especially with someone she doesn't know that well. But she's not going to let that stop her now, not after she's been well and truly challenged and she's committed to the game. Instead she watches as Coquelic picks the dice up and rolls. They clatter softly and her eyes widen a little as she sees what's come up. For a moment she's puzzled, not quite sure how it's going to work out, but then she glances up and meets Coquelic's gaze and finds herself a little enraptured by it.
Yes, she's put in the mind of Luce almost immediately again - the way the woman sits, the way she demands attention and - well. Obedience. The languid gestures, the lack of care... the hair color. If she squints she could almost see her.
Almost.
Red shakes herself after a moment. Not the time to be thinking about that. So it's with a faint sense of guilt and cautious, bristling glance that she slowly leans forward, hands braced slightly against the table, to rest her chin in her hand. It's a gesture of trust, in a way - as well as one of defiance and obedience at the same time. A refusal to let her own initial sense of shock control her. A refusal to let the teasing make her storm off. But also doing exactly what's wanted of her. Funny how that works. ]
Should I loosen my collar? [ She asks with a touch of irony. ]
(ugh. ignoring that comment on her being branded like a burdenbeast aside (the one on her seeming more testy than usual too) they had to focus. her losing her savings meant trouble. like if both troublemakers wind up in the basement like broca and aak did, someone needed to foot the bill. she's not dumb enough to assume otherwise about what may or may not happen, just because texas got the big shot suite doesn't mean she's going to be dumb. someone has to be useful, rake in the money while also hustling her ass off in whatever way she can manage. honestly if she can get rid of this mark? she would have, but since this is their means of keeping people in check, there's no other solution to that problem.
they needed to keep it satisfied, which means sex. no sex means it starts to flare and saturate. her suit activating twice has taught her that she doesn't want a third one (though she can't quite remember the second, only vaguely) for the sake of not being in constant danger of it. she's gotten to know a few people better, they'd worry like hell any time her mental state seems different from her usual. not exactly the sort of place texas can do her usual avoiding others bit at. or in truth, avoiding people until she had to socialize for her own sanity.
she's at the end of the day a lone wolf (there is no changing that, she can blend in all she wants, but that won't change) that comes and goes as she pleases. the people around her had picked up on it more than the girls from penguin logistics, that caught cellinia off guard. especially after one called her out recently by one person she got to know more about.
texas won't say anything, not now about it. the hateful glance of that spades mark told her that w was being w, not wanting to admit what she's thinking in a similar vein. ha, she might be a forerunner for heading into spades territory like texas did if she winds up at check-in. that's hard to say. given they're on the way to a more private room while the clock is ticking, they better make this count. nothing more than what needs to be done, texas has to use it on w after all, or else they're both in trouble.)
Chips are the main draw of these games, anyway. That's the currency for this hellhole, basic casino stuff with gambling or sex being what pays out typically.
His gaze lifts to the young woman's face, studying those unfamiliar features with more scrutiny this time. The possibility seems astronomically low, given that he has met no one else he recognizes in this place — but he's no stranger to chance. And hadn't he once looked up into the eyes of another senior manager of the IPC not long ago, unexpectedly lending him aid and freeing him from punishment? He sorts through his mind, thinking back on anything else he'd found in his research into the Strategic Investment Department. What did he know about Topaz? A better question — what would she know about him? Certainly his face. But how much other information had they all shared among each other?
Sunday realizes he'll look suspicious if he pauses much longer, so he answers:]
Wonweek. 10 of Clubs. [The number because it's the lowest on the list allowed in the lounge; the suit because it's not hers, so if she asks him questions about it, there's a chance he can get away with bluffing.] I don't have an opportunity to meet royalty like an Ace too often. I suppose that's why I've found it hard to socialize, I don't quite feel like I... fit in. As you might have noticed, I'm not used to indulging, either.
[Domming a guy twice her size is a challenge, but it's a challenge she's willing to accept.
She hops up on a nearby table, casually crossing one leg over the other, and tosses a collar to the man. There's a thin chain attached to it, the other end of which is in her hand.]
[ Well. This isn't really what she'd call elegant, but it'll do.
Mayou is perfectly content to let him do all the hard work while she watches the world go by, not offering resistance as she's tossed over his shoulder, bar some minor adjusting at the start of their little field trip so she can prop herself up on an elbow braced against his upper back. From potato sack to pampered housecat... still counts as an upgrade where her pride is concerned. Is she petty enough to give the staff behind them a passive-aggressive little wiggle of her fingers in farewell once they notice? Yes. Is the startling burst of blue flame going to command 100% of her attention? Very yes.
Mostly because she herself has never seen naturally occurring fire that color or ferocity before. A tiny voice in her head - the one responsible for all her bad decisions - loudly and shrilly insists she needs to figure out how to replicate it immediately. (pls bring a fruit basket to her funeral pls and ty.) ]
Hmm? [ Oh. Are they inside already? That was fast. ] Here's as good as there, I suppose. There's bound to be tablecloths ripe for the taking somewhere in the building.
[ She doesn't make any move to make him put her down though - resting her chin in the hand propped up against his back, surveying the casino interior without much concern for her state of undress or her trusty(????) steed. First thing's first... ]
[ it's a dense enough answer that he has time to carefully extract a card without the whole structure coming down. he takes it right out of the middle of the house. he speaks quietly, without warmth. ]
...Building up all that love in your heart, just to die alone. What a waste.
[ there's plenty in this wizard's words and sentiments that he agrees with, but that's all he actually says before flipping the card.
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