【 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.
roulette i'm sorry i had to [ honestly, he hadn't intended to play. he'd just been wandering by, bored out of his mind, and somehow eventually finds himself at the front of the line meant for the giant spinning wheel. he didn't like being told what to do, but unfortunately for him that currently comes in second for the more urgent desire to be curious as fuck, and so spin the wheel does and—
he frowns as the pin lands on CUCUMBER. before he can turn back around to the attendant to attest it, said attendant has already drawn out a cucumber, causing fig to launch himself back at least five feet from the shock of it all.
the squawky noise of protest he'd made had been pretty embarrassing... but not nearly as embarrassing as having crashed right into someone else in the process. ]
aftercare 1 — [ sure is a shame that the person you wind up stuck with just so happens to be fig, who has already demolished his entire tray full of breakfast and is currently working his way through yours. asshole doesn't even look a single ounce of sorry when he finally notices you stirring, cheerfully piping up from where he's folded himself into a cross-legged seat in one of the wooden chairs by the table. ]
Morning!
[ he's awfully chipper for someone who is supposedly suffering the same sort of ailments as you............... but that might have something to do with the fact he's got a breakfast and a half currently sitting pleasant in his tummy, soaking up all that alcohol he had imbibed in the night(s) before. (is that how it all works? don't ask him, honestly.) ]
2 — [ then again, maybe you're the one to get it together first. maybe you're the one who happens to fare better, at least up until fig himself finally pokes his head out from under a mountainous pile of blankets to let out a single, unflattering wail of misery. ]
Fuck this body!
[ he blinks his eyes open, spots you, and decides you're all to blame for the fact he can't ever seem to understand what foods and liquids this human body of his can handle. ]
Fuck you. [ maybe it'd have more sting, if he didn't sound so pathetic about it all. ] Who are you?
et cetera ( oc info can be found here and here! tldr fig is an ex-familiar amnesiac who still is still very much a cat in every way but literally. as far as cr/smut cr preferences go, due to his trauma he is far more open towards males. for females, especially those who happen to be extremely powerful magically/spiritually, it's very Complicated. he is both drawn to them (passive) but resistant (active). feel free to pm to hash things out! )
( Cucumber vs cat, the true contender for most arduous fight in the history of existence. So many casualties are caught in its crossfire, and Kyros is unfortunately one of them. Rest in peace, lad.
Except he's not dead, despite the collision and the sudden scare of it all. He'll have to give it to this place; never before in his nearly five centuries of life has Kyros ever dealt with so many... hmmm... well... inconveniences? Or chaos. Chaotic inconveniences, really. He's so much more used to people walking up to him fully intended to kill himself when he least expects it that something this direct almost throws him off balance.
At least he doesn't hate it entirely, and he hasn't fallen on his ass from the collision, though his chest hurts a little from it. Out of instinct, his hands hold onto the man's arms, holding the both of them steady on their feet. )
Can't say I'm used to meeting people like this. ( A little joke, to lighten up the mood and awkwardness of crashing into someone. Kyros is not offended!! ) Are you alright? I don't think I'm the softest surface to land on, unfortunately.
[ kyros may not be offended, but the same cannot be said for fig himself, who flinches away from the other man's otherwise very helpful and guiding hands, the very same hands that fig stares at now with a look of such disdain, as if they were the ones holding that offensive vegetable and not the attendant several feet away, looking on at them perplexed.
unfortunately for kyros, in the area of effect that is fig's easily-provoked grumpiness, he is the closest and easiest target. ]
You could have tried harder.
[ to be softer, that is. fig's unsettling stare flickers very briefly towards the man's right arm — not enough to be completely accusatory, but just so that the implication is there.
fortunately, fig's attention is as fickle as his mood, and he's turning back towards the attendant who has now stepped closer to continue to try and offer fig his hard won (?) cucumber.
[ Sylvain is not a morning person. In fact, if he doesn't have to wake up before noon, it instantly becomes the best sort of day.
Unfortunately, his bladder and a hangover dictate this is not going to be one of those mornings. Although he's taking the whole 'waking up naked in bed with a stranger' surprisingly calmly. Or maybe not so surprising, considering he's been here a year now and it can no longer be considered unexpected at all.
Which is why, at that very plaintive yowl, he winces at the noise and just casually reaches over to place a large hand over the stranger's mouth. ]
Shhhh. All three of you need to stop making that noise. Thanks.
[ one would think it should be impossible for fig's mood to turn even fouler, but sylvain happens to find himself in possession of the right sort of je ne sais quoi that would accomplish this very thing.
no, fig obviously does not take kindly to having a hand put over his mouth like that, and so his response is thus: swift, proportionate, and entirely justified.
fortunately for sylvain, fig is without his usual set of sharp teeth and fangs at the moment, but you can't say the man doesn't try his best to make up for these stupid blunt teeth by gnashing them incessantly around that hand until it inevitably pulls itself away. ]
All that tells is me is you're blind, not who you are.
[ fig attempts to sit up a little more on the bed, pulling roughly on whatever meager portion of the blankets sylvain had managed to scrape for himself during the night. ]
Answer quick! Before I bite another part of you that's much softer.
[ nope this is his 1/4 of the blanket thanks, you already have too much of it. And to emphasize that point, he drags it back with considerable stubbornness. Potentially stealing whatever bit the noisy stranger is hoarding as well. ]
Kinky. You could have at least bought me a coffee first. [ This place has been such a bad influence. ] I'm not blind, I'm hungover as hell.
You could tell me who you are, you know. Since you insist on being so noisy when I'm trying to keep my head from cracking apart. [ He's not typically this verbose in the morning, either. Hungover or not. He's blaming it on the lingering effects of all those energy drinks. ] Or being a tease with all the offers of biting. It's just polite. Especially when you're clearly a blanket hog.
[ it's a different flavor of disdain when sylvain's speech tilts flirtatious. honestly, if the circumstances were just slightly different, fig might have happily played along (until his attention inevitably drifted) but as it stands what might have amused fig a different day now only further irks him. he hasn't nearly as much strength as the larger man beside him does, but he still puts his all in those tugs back. these are his blankets until he decides he's done with them, thankyouverymuch. ]
You've been told you were charming before, haven't you.
[ he sniffs, turning up his nose. ]
Probably once, and probably said under extreme duress. I would lean on your other, actual qualities.
[ he does sylvain a great service by sparing a moment to consider this. ]
[ Sylvain squints one eye open at that. Great. He's down to two noisy spinny figures taunting him. he's pretty sure that's still wrong, unless he'd somehow landed himself in bed with identical twins.
...Granted, that's happened before, but they were a lot more enthusiastic than this. ]
I happen to be very charming, thanks. When it's not ass-o'clock in the morning. [ Is it? Who knows. It's not like this place has real windows.
It feels like ass-o'clock in the morning, though. That's his story and he's sticking to it. ]
Did you just call me pretty? That almost makes up for you being a blanket hog.
[Indeed- unfortunately for Fig, the domineering fatass he wakes up with has pulled the Uno Reverse and is already working his way through the majority of their complimentary pastry tray. With a cherry danish in one hand and a chocolate croissant in the other, one might wonder how he manages to stay so slender....... A fact that Fig can take in for himself, since he's wearing nothing but the vestiges of a silky black robe, pooled around his waist and under his cross-legged seat.]
[Turning to the sudden stirring and the declaration from his bed-partner, Matoba appraises the being beside him with his one visible eye- slitted not unlike Mister Cat here, blood red- the other covered by a strange spell whose tug feels markedly unpleasant in a way that any sensible animal or spirit would take as a glaring red flag to stay away.]
[He simply takes another bite from the danish, replying through the sputtered mouthful of pastry and jam,] New to this, are you? Pitiful thing.
If you need assistance.... [He swallows, licks his lips, and brandishes a smile.] Shall we make a deal?
[ the first thing fig smells is the sugar. even from the pastries long demolished by the other being in the room with him, the scent lingers on wickedly curling lips, on slender fingertips that look just a little too sharp if your eyes aren't focused enough. it makes fig's stomach curl; he'd never been very particular to sweets, even now with a tongue that can actually appreciate it.
the second thing fig smells is the magic. not an entirely unpleasant smell, though he's lived and died enough times to know that that doesn't really mean much. thick and pungent and a little piquant, his nose wrinkles from the way it lingers and clings. were he not afraid doing so might fully explode his pounding head, he might have tried a sneeze or two to clear it.
warily, he eyes the source of the magic from beneath his blanket haven. ]
...I'll pass.
[ his head feels like someone cleaved it two with the wrong side of a rusty axe, but even then he's still got enough of his wits about him to know that agreeing to that would be the second stupidest thing he's ever done in his all his lives.
(what's the first, you ask? he doesn't actually remember. but there's enough lingering dread from whatever it was that he knows nothing he can ever do in this</> life could ever possibly compare.)
he sits up, pulling on the blankets so that they more or less come up with him in a pretty uncanny imitation of a tent. ]
Where am I? [ a pause. ] Or is getting that answered gonna cost me too?
[Matoba knows what it looks and feels like to be appraised by something unfamiliar with him, and he quietly observes back as Fig ascertains the shape of the exorcist with the senses available to him. "Fuck this body", he'd said- so then, this is a new form? That's the read he gets from the slow roll of caution from the creature hiding under the blankets, peering out with slow blinking eyes in a gesture that feels somewhat... familiar. What form might this ayakashi take normally, he wonders...]
[At least it doesn't seem to be carrying malice, or the stench of blood. He can probably weave his way around it without too much worry. How nice it is, not to have a reputation for once.]
Hmm. [Matoba seems to deliberate on that wariness a moment, turning his danish in-hand to lick at a bit of dripping jam.] I could charge you for that, but you will get an explanation quickly enough for free that will diminish the value of my offer.
So, as a show of good will, [lol] I will give you the simple version free of charge.
You are in a realm created by, or perhaps shaped by, a supernatural force of will. It has taken on the form of an extravagant hotel and resort. [He turns his eye on Fig in his blankets again, and considers him. Is this one old, and unfamiliar with human ways?] ...Do you need that one explained, or are you familiar with such things?
] fig sits with this information for a good handful of seconds, staring unblinkingly at the man even long after he's finished speaking, and perhaps even drifted back to his snacking. fig tries to reconcile the conflicted emotions he's feeling, or at least try and put a name to some of them, and he isn't all that surprised to find when one of them tastes an awful lot like anger.
but that one doesn't take much to rouse these days. ]
I know what a hotel is, [ fig gripes, but he's steadily losing the heat of his anger as a gaping sort of dread starts to settle in the pit of his stomach. ] I take it we're trapped? At least until some sort of goal has been met?
[ he knows how these things go; supernatural entities, by their very nature, cannot resist a good deal. or a bad one, depending who you talk to. case in point, mr. danish himself. the fact this hotel can cage in someone of that caliber is... depressing. and makes fig want to retreat further into his blanket cavern. or tear up something expensive. he could honestly go either way.
for the moment, he slinks back down till he's more or less horizontal again, the mess of white that is his hair peeking out from the crack in the blankets. ]
[And we can't all be nimble, crisis-navigating repression machines, can we? That has its own costs for a human, though not much is evident of it in the man that sits calmly in front of Fig, licking his fingertips of jam.]
[For his part, Matoba presumes that the ayakashi must not be especially powerful, to lack the senses to feel out this world for himself- and thus, not to be treated as an active threat. Like the minuscule spirits that roam the forests, such beings were merely a facet of life, for those who can See. And, unfortunately for Fig, this exorcist has only two modes of regard for such things: that which can be used, and that which is useless.]
Haha, forgive me, [He smiles unseriously, not the least concerned about offense,] I am accustomed to the bumbling old sorts who know very little of modern human ways. But, that makes things a bit easier. You're correct, more or less.
[Matoba reaches a hand out, plucking a strip of bacon from the tray. He dangles it pinched between two fingers over towards the opening of the blanket cave, like bait.]
As to what that goal may be............ This is where my tutorial ends. So, what will you offer for my information?
[damn this place. dragging him in here, stuffing him in a stupid suit, choking the life out of him with a shitty tie! as soon as he was out of sight of the front doors, bakugo ripped the damn thing off and stuffed it into his pocket instead. changing it up a bit wasn't too difficult, tugging the jacket open and undoing the buttons until he's in a far more comfortable version of the original white and red clothing.
casino bells, slot machine tells, the whirling of roulette wheels. he glances towards the spinning monstrosity nearby. that wasn't roulette that he knows. more akin to american jeopardy games. tch, of course the payouts are perverted. like everything else in this place. you'd think they'd have gotten tired of-]
OY!! [bakugo stumbles to the side, snarling at the impact as someone crashes into him. he slams one foot to the ground to brace himself, one arm slaps against the nearby column, and his other hand finds and fists into whatever this body's wearing. hauls him right up with a growl.] Watch where you're going!
[ fig had been fortunate (?) enough to get sent off with an outfit that didn't require a jacket or blazer — but that could largely be due to the fact he complained of how restrictive each one felt whenever the "friendly" attendants tried to put him in one. unfortunately, the delicate material of his shirt isn't exactly conducive to the kind of rough-housing bakugo is choosing to engage them both in... much like fig himself. ]
Oh, a loud one.
[ that part fig mutters entirely to himself, right before he attempts to gently extricate himself from the blond's hold... which for the moment just involves giving that fist a few pats of his own hand. ]
Listen, you're free to take the vegetable for yourself. You don't have to fight me for it.
[as much as the hotel wants people to stay locked in their black tie attire, bakugo's apparently not the only one who either refused to wear it full time or managed to escape the entry's watchful eye. his fingers crush sheer material into his palms, fig's shirt's ample crenelation and fabric being the only reason it avoids tearing from his rough treatment. stronger than it looks too.
tch, so it wasn't on purpose. accidental, meaning the guy's avoiding something or trying to speed somewhere. bakugo snorts once and opens his hand, letting fig's shirt spring free with an obvious "something went wrong here" bunch in the front. smooth it out on your own. no attempt to even strike back or free himself. great, a runaway wuss.]
Haa? What vegetable? [red eyes sweep through the area before landing on the table concierge. and his offered cucumber.] Pffft! Is that for you?
[it's a fucking cucumber! why the hell is it being handed out at the goddamn sex toy roule-- ... WHAT THE FUCK?! WHY IS THAT EVEN AN OPTION?! it's not even a fake one! these people are sick!
he arches his back as the other man tries to sidle around him, attempting to shield himself or whatever the hell he's doing. the man behind the table still pressures someone to take the big green thing and bakugo finally ends up snatching it with a growl just to get it out of his damn face.
then promptly shoves it right over his shoulder towards fig's face.]
I'm gonna cram it down your throat if you keep talking.
[ Beowulf's already played this game, and his prize is the less scary ball gag but he's been mingling around this area for awhile now. It feels really invigorating to get back into the scene of things. He's not exactly elegant or hyper aware of where he is going, but when somebody else catapults into him, it definitely catches his attention, and, being the caring person that he is, he reaches out to grasp Fig by the shoulders to prevent him from falling back on his ass or hitting the ground. He's tall, and very solid, so someone crashing into him doesn't knock him off balance or anything. ]
Whoa-ho, hey there, easy! You okay? Are you running away from something, man?
[ From the looks of it, it must be something really scary! Anyway, cat coded person meet dog coded person. ]
so grateful for everyone who wishes to be silly with me flmsdnksk
[ okay, ow? why does it feel like fig just ran into a brick wall— oh because he basically just did. what's this guy's problem??? lay off the milk, jesus. ]
Unhand me, [ he sniffs, though it should be noted he makes no attempts to detangle himself on his own. this is largely because he's not entirely sure he wouldn't hurt himself in the process, because those large hands could most definitely snap a bone or two of his with ridiculous ease.
behind them, an attendant jogs forward, waving the offending cucumber in the air.
Sir! Sir! Your prize!
fig tenses and turns his face away, as if ignoring the attendant outright will somehow be enough to make it go away. ]
[ Beowulf may be stupid, but he certainly knows an irritated person when he sees one. He’s about to say something, but the attendant rushes over with.. a cucumber in tow? It’s either a stroke of genius to rid Fig from the source of what’s scary, or Beowulf is thinking without acting. He releases his hold from his acquaintance and reaches over to take the cucumber. ]
Oh, thanks—
[ it’s not your prize?? But then he lifts the cucumber to his mouth and takes a big bite out of it. ]
It’s like they detected I was hungry! You want a bite too?
[ both fig and attendant stare in varying levels of gobsmacked as beowulf easily chomps down half of the cucumber. the latter seems unsure how to proceed, slowly glancing back towards the wheel as if contemplating if this counts as an immediate disqualification or a redo—
but the former finds himself cracking up, and loudly enough that the attendant decides this situation is above his paygrade. whatever consequence comes from this (if any) is no longer his problem!!
once fig manages to get a few breaths in between his laughter, he's reaching over to slap a hand over the larger man's shoulder. (ow.) ]
Genius! Hit them with utter stupidity! [ ah, he's wiping a tear from his eye. ] You, I like you. [ he slips his arm to link with the other man's. ] Come, I could use you as a buffer against the rest of this place's insanity.
[Being a 10 means being afforded more luxury than most, so it's usually quite nice to wake up in the morning. Not so much today after whatever the hell happened last night ... or the night before that -- Vil is still too out of it to attempt a timeline of events, trying to carefully remove grit from his eyelashes without rubbing at his eyes. "Carefully" isn't really working with his current level of coordination.
The cheerful voice that cuts through the relative silence is unfamiliar, and he attempts to sit up, managing to flip ungracefully onto his chest, his upper body supported by a very nice pillow. (Belatedly, he realizes there's been a clatter of plates and cutlery above the sounds of the shifting blankets.)
And then he's just staring uncomprehendingly at the stranger in his room. A stranger sitting at a table that definitely was not there before, eating food that definitely was not there before. A stranger who has been sitting there while he's been disheveled and completely outside of his normal beauty routine. He would be more self-critical if he wasn't still figuring out the situation.]
Who ... are you, and why are you...
[His mouth is grossly dry. He flaps his hand in tired annoyance as if that will convey his unfinished questions, frowning.]
[ fig has, by now, made his full rounds of the space. curiosity, and all that, topped off by an inherent nosiness that would have been prominent in any form he'd taken. but at least in this case it lends to some pragmatism; it's always a good idea to get a sense of where one's ended up, after all.
in his investigation, he'd more or less come to the conclusion that this particular space is, in fact, lived in. there are touches of a personal preference that can't go ignored, not to mention the fact it smells wholly of the man who'd been content to lay sprawled out on the bed. fig did the math, suffice to say.
does that make him act any less like the space might as well have been his own? no. of course not. ]
Lovely room, [ he chirps, as if vil's tone was not in itself an invitation to get the fuck out. ] I'm Fig. [ he had also just eaten a fig — jam form, spread over a few buttery crackers.
he offers helpfully: ]
You look like you've been run over.
[ he should know. he's known a many good cat who had it happen to them. ]
[Rather than take offense to what's probably an accurate statement, Vil musters up enough strength to sit up more properly, if with the help of the pillow, and sighs tiredly.]
I may have made some bad choices.
[Yesterday or the day before. Whatever made the most sense for such a terribly long ... party. He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to push those thoughts away to focus more on the present.]
Where did the food come from?
[It most definitely wasn't his; even if he cared for such decadent breakfast dishes, he's sure the spread included ingredients he didn't normally keep around.]
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peacockstop2025-01-15 09:00 pm
fig | original | new character
[ honestly, he hadn't intended to play. he'd just been wandering by, bored out of his mind, and somehow eventually finds himself at the front of the line meant for the giant spinning wheel. he didn't like being told what to do, but unfortunately for him that currently comes in second for the more urgent desire to be curious as fuck, and so spin the wheel does and—
he frowns as the pin lands on CUCUMBER. before he can turn back around to the attendant to attest it, said attendant has already drawn out a cucumber, causing fig to launch himself back at least five feet from the shock of it all.
the squawky noise of protest he'd made had been pretty embarrassing... but not nearly as embarrassing as having crashed right into someone else in the process. ]
aftercare
1 — [ sure is a shame that the person you wind up stuck with just so happens to be fig, who has already demolished his entire tray full of breakfast and is currently working his way through yours. asshole doesn't even look a single ounce of sorry when he finally notices you stirring, cheerfully piping up from where he's folded himself into a cross-legged seat in one of the wooden chairs by the table. ]
Morning!
[ he's awfully chipper for someone who is supposedly suffering the same sort of ailments as you............... but that might have something to do with the fact he's got a breakfast and a half currently sitting pleasant in his tummy, soaking up all that alcohol he had imbibed in the night(s) before. (is that how it all works? don't ask him, honestly.) ]
2 — [ then again, maybe you're the one to get it together first. maybe you're the one who happens to fare better, at least up until fig himself finally pokes his head out from under a mountainous pile of blankets to let out a single, unflattering wail of misery. ]
Fuck this body!
[ he blinks his eyes open, spots you, and decides you're all to blame for the fact he can't ever seem to understand what foods and liquids this human body of his can handle. ]
Fuck you. [ maybe it'd have more sting, if he didn't sound so pathetic about it all. ] Who are you?
et cetera
( oc info can be found here and here! tldr fig is an ex-familiar amnesiac who still is still very much a cat in every way but literally. as far as cr/smut cr preferences go, due to his trauma he is far more open towards males. for females, especially those who happen to be extremely powerful magically/spiritually, it's very Complicated. he is both drawn to them (passive) but resistant (active). feel free to pm to hash things out! )
roulette because it made me laugh
Except he's not dead, despite the collision and the sudden scare of it all. He'll have to give it to this place; never before in his nearly five centuries of life has Kyros ever dealt with so many... hmmm... well... inconveniences? Or chaos. Chaotic inconveniences, really. He's so much more used to people walking up to him fully intended to kill himself when he least expects it that something this direct almost throws him off balance.
At least he doesn't hate it entirely, and he hasn't fallen on his ass from the collision, though his chest hurts a little from it. Out of instinct, his hands hold onto the man's arms, holding the both of them steady on their feet. )
Can't say I'm used to meeting people like this. ( A little joke, to lighten up the mood and awkwardness of crashing into someone. Kyros is not offended!! ) Are you alright? I don't think I'm the softest surface to land on, unfortunately.
lmfaklsdja ty for validating my poor choices
unfortunately for kyros, in the area of effect that is fig's easily-provoked grumpiness, he is the closest and easiest target. ]
You could have tried harder.
[ to be softer, that is. fig's unsettling stare flickers very briefly towards the man's right arm — not enough to be completely accusatory, but just so that the implication is there.
fortunately, fig's attention is as fickle as his mood, and he's turning back towards the attendant who has now stepped closer to continue to try and offer fig his hard won (?) cucumber.
fig leans back slightly, lips curling. ]
No.
aftercare 2 because lol mood
Unfortunately, his bladder and a hangover dictate this is not going to be one of those mornings. Although he's taking the whole 'waking up naked in bed with a stranger' surprisingly calmly. Or maybe not so surprising, considering he's been here a year now and it can no longer be considered unexpected at all.
Which is why, at that very plaintive yowl, he winces at the noise and just casually reaches over to place a large hand over the stranger's mouth. ]
Shhhh. All three of you need to stop making that noise. Thanks.
the horrors (fig's foul mood) persist
no, fig obviously does not take kindly to having a hand put over his mouth like that, and so his response is thus: swift, proportionate, and entirely justified.
fortunately for sylvain, fig is without his usual set of sharp teeth and fangs at the moment, but you can't say the man doesn't try his best to make up for these stupid blunt teeth by gnashing them incessantly around that hand until it inevitably pulls itself away. ]
All that tells is me is you're blind, not who you are.
[ fig attempts to sit up a little more on the bed, pulling roughly on whatever meager portion of the blankets sylvain had managed to scrape for himself during the night. ]
Answer quick! Before I bite another part of you that's much softer.
no subject
Kinky. You could have at least bought me a coffee first. [ This place has been such a bad influence. ] I'm not blind, I'm hungover as hell.
You could tell me who you are, you know. Since you insist on being so noisy when I'm trying to keep my head from cracking apart. [ He's not typically this verbose in the morning, either. Hungover or not. He's blaming it on the lingering effects of all those energy drinks. ] Or being a tease with all the offers of biting. It's just polite. Especially when you're clearly a blanket hog.
no subject
You've been told you were charming before, haven't you.
[ he sniffs, turning up his nose. ]
Probably once, and probably said under extreme duress. I would lean on your other, actual qualities.
[ he does sylvain a great service by sparing a moment to consider this. ]
You have pleasant coloring.
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...Granted, that's happened before, but they were a lot more enthusiastic than this. ]
I happen to be very charming, thanks. When it's not ass-o'clock in the morning. [ Is it? Who knows. It's not like this place has real windows.
It feels like ass-o'clock in the morning, though. That's his story and he's sticking to it. ]
Did you just call me pretty? That almost makes up for you being a blanket hog.
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aftercare 2!
[Turning to the sudden stirring and the declaration from his bed-partner, Matoba appraises the being beside him with his one visible eye- slitted not unlike Mister Cat here, blood red- the other covered by a strange spell whose tug feels markedly unpleasant in a way that any sensible animal or spirit would take as a glaring red flag to stay away.]
[He simply takes another bite from the danish, replying through the sputtered mouthful of pastry and jam,] New to this, are you? Pitiful thing.
If you need assistance.... [He swallows, licks his lips, and brandishes a smile.] Shall we make a deal?
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[ooc; Magical info/permissions here! Sorry in advance for this cat fanatic....]
hope this is ok! lmk if it's too godmoddy u_u
the second thing fig smells is the magic. not an entirely unpleasant smell, though he's lived and died enough times to know that that doesn't really mean much. thick and pungent and a little piquant, his nose wrinkles from the way it lingers and clings. were he not afraid doing so might fully explode his pounding head, he might have tried a sneeze or two to clear it.
warily, he eyes the source of the magic from beneath his blanket haven. ]
...I'll pass.
[ his head feels like someone cleaved it two with the wrong side of a rusty axe, but even then he's still got enough of his wits about him to know that agreeing to that would be the second stupidest thing he's ever done in his all his lives.
(what's the first, you ask? he doesn't actually remember. but there's enough lingering dread from whatever it was that he knows nothing he can ever do in this</> life could ever possibly compare.)
he sits up, pulling on the blankets so that they more or less come up with him in a pretty uncanny imitation of a tent. ]
Where am I? [ a pause. ] Or is getting that answered gonna cost me too?
all good!
[At least it doesn't seem to be carrying malice, or the stench of blood. He can probably weave his way around it without too much worry. How nice it is, not to have a reputation for once.]
Hmm. [Matoba seems to deliberate on that wariness a moment, turning his danish in-hand to lick at a bit of dripping jam.] I could charge you for that, but you will get an explanation quickly enough for free that will diminish the value of my offer.
So, as a show of good will, [lol] I will give you the simple version free of charge.
You are in a realm created by, or perhaps shaped by, a supernatural force of will. It has taken on the form of an extravagant hotel and resort. [He turns his eye on Fig in his blankets again, and considers him. Is this one old, and unfamiliar with human ways?] ...Do you need that one explained, or are you familiar with such things?
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but that one doesn't take much to rouse these days. ]
I know what a hotel is, [ fig gripes, but he's steadily losing the heat of his anger as a gaping sort of dread starts to settle in the pit of his stomach. ] I take it we're trapped? At least until some sort of goal has been met?
[ he knows how these things go; supernatural entities, by their very nature, cannot resist a good deal. or a bad one, depending who you talk to. case in point, mr. danish himself. the fact this hotel can cage in someone of that caliber is... depressing. and makes fig want to retreat further into his blanket cavern. or tear up something expensive. he could honestly go either way.
for the moment, he slinks back down till he's more or less horizontal again, the mess of white that is his hair peeking out from the crack in the blankets. ]
Save me some bacon, at least.
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[And we can't all be nimble, crisis-navigating repression machines, can we? That has its own costs for a human, though not much is evident of it in the man that sits calmly in front of Fig, licking his fingertips of jam.]
[For his part, Matoba presumes that the ayakashi must not be especially powerful, to lack the senses to feel out this world for himself- and thus, not to be treated as an active threat. Like the minuscule spirits that roam the forests, such beings were merely a facet of life, for those who can See. And, unfortunately for Fig, this exorcist has only two modes of regard for such things: that which can be used, and that which is useless.]
Haha, forgive me, [He smiles unseriously, not the least concerned about offense,] I am accustomed to the bumbling old sorts who know very little of modern human ways. But, that makes things a bit easier. You're correct, more or less.
[Matoba reaches a hand out, plucking a strip of bacon from the tray. He dangles it pinched between two fingers over towards the opening of the blanket cave, like bait.]
As to what that goal may be............ This is where my tutorial ends. So, what will you offer for my information?
roulette - too, because hilarious
casino bells, slot machine tells, the whirling of roulette wheels. he glances towards the spinning monstrosity nearby. that wasn't roulette that he knows. more akin to american jeopardy games. tch, of course the payouts are perverted. like everything else in this place. you'd think they'd have gotten tired of-]
OY!! [bakugo stumbles to the side, snarling at the impact as someone crashes into him. he slams one foot to the ground to brace himself, one arm slaps against the nearby column, and his other hand finds and fists into whatever this body's wearing. hauls him right up with a growl.] Watch where you're going!
[what's this guy doing, jumping on people?!]
i'm so glad
Oh, a loud one.
[ that part fig mutters entirely to himself, right before he attempts to gently extricate himself from the blond's hold... which for the moment just involves giving that fist a few pats of his own hand. ]
Listen, you're free to take the vegetable for yourself. You don't have to fight me for it.
a meme worthy reaction
tch, so it wasn't on purpose. accidental, meaning the guy's avoiding something or trying to speed somewhere. bakugo snorts once and opens his hand, letting fig's shirt spring free with an obvious "something went wrong here" bunch in the front. smooth it out on your own. no attempt to even strike back or free himself. great, a runaway wuss.]
Haa? What vegetable? [red eyes sweep through the area before landing on the table concierge. and his offered cucumber.] Pffft! Is that for you?
[Oh this got even better.]
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It was, but it's all yours now.
[ he shifts deftly on one foot, angling himself so now it's bakugo who stands closer to the table than fig himself.
on his wrist, of course, goes ignored the notification demanding the use of said cucumber. ]
Have fun! But maybe not too much? You don't look the type to enjoy that sort of thing...
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[it's a fucking cucumber! why the hell is it being handed out at the goddamn sex toy roule-- ... WHAT THE FUCK?! WHY IS THAT EVEN AN OPTION?! it's not even a fake one! these people are sick!
he arches his back as the other man tries to sidle around him, attempting to shield himself or whatever the hell he's doing. the man behind the table still pressures someone to take the big green thing and bakugo finally ends up snatching it with a growl just to get it out of his damn face.
then promptly shoves it right over his shoulder towards fig's face.]
I'm gonna cram it down your throat if you keep talking.
[why's this guy's watch beeping?]
Check your watch before it shrieks.
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cucumber LMFAO
Whoa-ho, hey there, easy! You okay? Are you running away from something, man?
[ From the looks of it, it must be something really scary! Anyway, cat coded person meet dog coded person. ]
so grateful for everyone who wishes to be silly with me flmsdnksk
Unhand me, [ he sniffs, though it should be noted he makes no attempts to detangle himself on his own. this is largely because he's not entirely sure he wouldn't hurt himself in the process, because those large hands could most definitely snap a bone or two of his with ridiculous ease.
behind them, an attendant jogs forward, waving the offending cucumber in the air.
Sir! Sir! Your prize!
fig tenses and turns his face away, as if ignoring the attendant outright will somehow be enough to make it go away. ]
beo was made for silliness
Oh, thanks—
[ it’s not your prize?? But then he lifts the cucumber to his mouth and takes a big bite out of it. ]
It’s like they detected I was hungry! You want a bite too?
and 🔞🔞🔞, with a body like that—
[ both fig and attendant stare in varying levels of gobsmacked as beowulf easily chomps down half of the cucumber. the latter seems unsure how to proceed, slowly glancing back towards the wheel as if contemplating if this counts as an immediate disqualification or a redo—
but the former finds himself cracking up, and loudly enough that the attendant decides this situation is above his paygrade. whatever consequence comes from this (if any) is no longer his problem!!
once fig manages to get a few breaths in between his laughter, he's reaching over to slap a hand over the larger man's shoulder. (ow.) ]
Genius! Hit them with utter stupidity! [ ah, he's wiping a tear from his eye. ] You, I like you. [ he slips his arm to link with the other man's. ] Come, I could use you as a buffer against the rest of this place's insanity.
😘
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aftercare 1
The cheerful voice that cuts through the relative silence is unfamiliar, and he attempts to sit up, managing to flip ungracefully onto his chest, his upper body supported by a very nice pillow. (Belatedly, he realizes there's been a clatter of plates and cutlery above the sounds of the shifting blankets.)
And then he's just staring uncomprehendingly at the stranger in his room. A stranger sitting at a table that definitely was not there before, eating food that definitely was not there before. A stranger who has been sitting there while he's been disheveled and completely outside of his normal beauty routine. He would be more self-critical if he wasn't still figuring out the situation.]
Who ... are you, and why are you...
[His mouth is grossly dry. He flaps his hand in tired annoyance as if that will convey his unfinished questions, frowning.]
You're in my room.
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in his investigation, he'd more or less come to the conclusion that this particular space is, in fact, lived in. there are touches of a personal preference that can't go ignored, not to mention the fact it smells wholly of the man who'd been content to lay sprawled out on the bed. fig did the math, suffice to say.
does that make him act any less like the space might as well have been his own? no. of course not. ]
Lovely room, [ he chirps, as if vil's tone was not in itself an invitation to get the fuck out. ] I'm Fig. [ he had also just eaten a fig — jam form, spread over a few buttery crackers.
he offers helpfully: ]
You look like you've been run over.
[ he should know. he's known a many good cat who had it happen to them. ]
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I may have made some bad choices.
[Yesterday or the day before. Whatever made the most sense for such a terribly long ... party. He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to push those thoughts away to focus more on the present.]
Where did the food come from?
[It most definitely wasn't his; even if he cared for such decadent breakfast dishes, he's sure the spread included ingredients he didn't normally keep around.]