【 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.
[ having never been in or even seen a car before, Fidelio's has no first thought about what space he wakes up inside of. it could be a bedroom for all he knows, and frankly it's larger and nicer than almost any he's ever slept in for that matter, so you'll find no major complaints from him here. at least, not about that part. no, the luxury limousine is tall enough for him to stand up straight in (not that that's saying much) and long enough to stretch out on the sectional seats twice or even three times oveer (not that that's saying much), well lit and extravagantly furnished with drinks in ice buckets and snack trays galore. it'd almost be a dream to live in, save for the lack of a bathroom, maybe.
the problem isn't the space; it's the fact that he can't get out of the space. waking up in nothing but an extremely oversized robe, hastily belted closed, with no idea where he is and having figured out the door handles only to find they don't open is a bit more threat than Del's willing to patiently put up with. he throws his shoulder hard into one of the doors, swears under his breath, and then clambers across the seats in the direction of the driver's spot where there happens to be another door.
before he can reach it, though, he winds up damn near climbing into the lap of his car buddy, who just so happened to have slept through the initial ruckus. the abrupt discovery of another berobed living person in the car with him provokes a clipped shout, and he tumbles back right onto the gear shift, which prompts yet another shout, this one in the form of a highly colorful expletive. ]
Don't tell me you were in here the entire time?! Quit messing around and—ngh—get the door open already!
black tie and tail(s)
[ there may have been a little urging from the ghosts to get him here, but the decision to head straight into the epicenter of activity and try to get a feel for what's going on was mostly entirely Del's. the choice in attire was not, however, and the result is that he's standing here looking like an absolute dipshit in a tuxedo that's made entirely out of gold scales. scales, as in, like a shiny magikarp. they're obnoxiously metallic and flashy and liable to blind anyone standing in the line of fire between them and the glint of an errant chandelier, but hey, at least it fits. he's already small, hardly breaching five foot even, so finding something in his size seemed like an impossibility, but he raised absolute hell over the notion of being put in something that'd make him look like a dumb child playing dress-up in papa's clothes, so concessions were made. actually, if not for how heinously gaudy the suit is, he'd pass for quite dapper.
in spite of his attempts to, er, "mingle," Fidelio wears a perpetually suspicious and wary expression as he moves through the crowd, studying faces and observing activities. already well aware he's out of his depth and not exactly market standard for what the folks around here are typically going to be looking for, he's chosen to allow this to serve him in favor of some much-needed recon. from time to time, his gaze will pass over someone else's and then travel all over, mostly their face and head, and he'll look puzzled for a moment before he looks elsewhere.
what... tribe are these people from? in a lot of cases, it's almost impossible to tell.
eventually, Fidelio finds himself where many party-lurkers do: at the food table. that's one thing he's not entirely suspicious about, at least, and he has absolutely no qualms with horking down everything on his plate, held in one hand, eating with the fingers of the other. you might even catch him hovering protectively over a tray of meat pies, the hair on his tail standing on end. there are three left, and he clearly doesn't plan on letting them go. ]
Move along, eh. Those're spoken for.
fidelio.carrd.co
[ of all the games to play, the house of cards seemed like the safest option. answering potentially personal questions honestly in front of strangers isn't his idea of a good time, but between that and sniffing someone's knee in the other room, it's a cross he's willing to bear. as it turns out, Fidelio seems to have some talent for finessing cards out of the house without so much as causing a wobble—probably thanks in part to his steady hand and quiet, thoughtful concentration. the questions thus far have been entirely harmless (favorite food, favorite color, boring things like that), and he's answered all of them straightforwardly, with little to no editorial. while he's clearly listened closely to answers and conversations happening around him, he hasn't seemed interested in participating in talking very much, himself.
shy? (maybe) nah, taking it all in. sizing up this place and everyone in it. figuring out how best to get home and back to his brother, his job, his life.
that's not to say that he's completely socially stilted, though. when his next turn comes around, Del decides to impress the table by selecting a card in a highly precarious spot. he slips it free with care and quirks the corners of his lips in a faintly cocky sort of way—but that smirk fades as soon as he flips the card around to see the question. ]
Uh...
[ What's it say? urges a random Peacock resident who decided to pull up a chair and watch the match. they seem to know it's going to be something juicy, and that's all but confirmed by the way color floods into Fidelio's face like he's not sure it's ever done before, pooling in his cheeks and blotching up his complexion all the way down to his neck. a weak clear of his throat, and he opts not to read the question aloud. he answers simply: ]
No. Nope, sure haven't. Can we just—whose turn is it?
[ and then places the card face-up for everyone to see. the question: Have you ever given or received oral sex from another person?
talk about a royal flush. ]
ooc
( feel free to wildcard me anything, i'm down for whatever! ota, m/m preferred but m/f is fine too. regarding Del's age, he is between 19 and 25, but due to a canon reason that is somewhat unfortunate and traumatic, his aging was stunted so he looks a lot younger than he is (like, 15-16ish). i'm not super interested in making that a Thing (other than size diff, which is a rad kink no matter what), but i get how it might be awkward in a sex game setting, so if you'd prefer to keep things gen, that's cool. he's an adult and will act like one, just figured i'd mention!
feel free to pm this journal or pp tarocchi for plotting and whatnot! )
[ How does he keep getting roped into these games? Easy, he's usually bored and easily distracted, and maybe he's weak to one particular local who keeps batting her lashes at him and always asks pretty please when it comes to (mostly) harmless activities like this. The first time was that game of dice all those months ago and now? It's sort of a regular thing, although for the moment it looks like she's abandoned him all by his lonesome at the table to go fetch a round of drinks and more of those little fancy pastries that he seems to like so much. It's all fine and dandy at any rate because although the side she was at feels cold and empty, his attention winds up traveling to the man looking like a chocobo caught in headlights.
And like the rest of the table, Roche can't help his own curiosity — the barely-there cough and the way the card gets placed face-up has him leaning up and peering over with everyone else, even as he silently answers that whose turn is it by reaching for one of his own. An easy one, just to make things interesting. ]
No shame in that, my friend. Although... I can't imagine you'd have any trouble finding someone if you were looking to change that.
[ Is he offering???? Who knows? Roche doesn't look up as he says it, his attention drifting down to the card in his own hand for a moment. Then, it goes down onto the table: What’s the weirdest food you’ve ever eaten? ]
Deep-fried malboro tentacles. At least if we're talking about food from my home, otherwise... I'd say one of those gaudy burgers they've got over at the Egg — you know, the ones with caviar and gold flakes? Horrible aftertaste, but I'd say it's worth doing at least once simply to say you did it.
[ this place is like, the sex depot, he gets it. the instant flush of color in his face utterly refuses to vacate the premises, so he settles for folding his arms and living with it like it isn't there until it does fade. he's half-expecting the next card to be a filthy question, too, but they're blessedly spared a twofer. not that he can't handle it or anything, it's just, like... geez. ]
Malboro—tentacles? Like off a sea monster?
[ not this shit again. Del's nose wrinkles, albeit not necessarily with disgust. looks nasty, but would he have eaten it if they'd fried it up and served it? ...........possibly. his gaze, in the meantime, scans the card house, searching for his next mark. maybe showing off was a mistake, last time. ]
Haven't been to that place yet. Or rather I went there, but the look'a the place made me positive I'd yack everywhere if I went about grubbing with a smell like that coming from inside. If they're puttin' metal in the food, then I was right.
[ first they put mercury in the gatorade, NOW THIS?
a turn of the wrist, and he traps his chosen card between two fingers, tugging delicately at it. steady.. steady... ]
Mm-mm, close but not quite. Imagine... Hm. A head of lettuce the size of a small house with tentacles, a mouth full of teeth, eyes, and a very foul odor that'll stick with you for days if you get hit with it. I've had it a few ways but frying it was, uh... Let's say it just about tasted about as good as it smelled.
[ AKA not good at all. Roche's nose wrinkles at the memory of it, his eyes following the motion of Del's hand. Easy does it— Not too fast, now— ]
The rest of the menu isn't nearly as off, I promise you that much. They've got a damn good soup that I try to pick up at least once a week and the rolls they serve with it is much better than any gold they could serve.
[ There's a pause and a quiet gasp from someone off to his right when the stack of cards barely moves, but it doesn't fall. Even Roche lets out a breath he hadn't known he was holding, and leans closer as if he means to peek over the top. ]
[ for a second—maybe two seconds, or even three, actually—Del lifts his head and looks Roche right in the face. his expression speaks louder than any amount of words could: what is wrong with you and why would you eat that.
or maybe just: that's nasty.
doubtless the mental image in his head is nothing compared to a real malboro, cooked or otherwise, but either version absolutely rankle his appetite. good thing he already stuffed his gullet full of meat pies before he got to the table!
it's while his gaze is still fixed on Roche's that the card slips free, which is kinda unintentionally badass, especially with that wobble. once it's loose, Del turns it between his fingers to read the question, brow furrowing. ]
"Family, or friends"? What kind of stupid question is that?
[ before recent events, he would've said "family," hands down, the end, no question, no contest, but—well. it's still going to be his answer, but it makes him feel kind of... weird. the way things have been going, the subtle shift in dynamics between himself and everyone else, it really gets him thinking, for a minute... or it would if he didn't give his head a shake as if to clear away the overthink-y thoughts. Del lays that card down with the rest of the ones he's drawn. ]
Family, obviously. Can't choose 'em. They're all you've got when it comes right down to it.
Shit, he's apprehensive about the perfectly tailored suit, and weird apparitions urging him toward the party hall. Nothing about any of this makes sense, and without anyone to give him orders or guide him into and through social interactions, he ends up doing a lot of surveillance himself. Standing around like an idiot as the people around him have a good time earning some sort of currency that he's unfamiliar with. It would make more sense if the place was a casino but he hasn't found a single poker table without half naked players.
But the food looks appetizing, at least. He lingers nearby to watch people eat and others avoid it all together, so it's hard to tell whether or not its safe. At least until someone small barks at him for staring too long at food that was already claimed.]
All yours... [Naturally he doubletakes. Was that a tail?]
[ so far, nothing weird's happened to him, save for it being apparently so delicious that he's one step away from barking at anyone who tries to make off with his meat pies. but give the guy a break, he hasn't eaten like this in a minute. or ever, really. the fancy finger food at the last soirée he went to didn't have anything on this, if only because the paripus weren't invited to have any of the good stuff, no matter whose crew they were part of.
at any rate, Del's shoulders relax. he's just shoved an entire half of one of those bad boys in his mouth when he catches that glance toward his tail. it's real, alright, and so are the flopped over ears on top of his head, both of which pin back in annoyance. ]
What? Ain't you ever seen a paripus before?
[ i mean, he's starting to think that might be accurate. no obvious hint what tribe this guy's from, either, which seems to be a theme. are people even, like, from tribes here? Rude's kind of big... maybe rhoag? ]
[Rude watches him in awe of his mannerisms. He definitely gives off puppy energy, but something tells him that this kid will bite if he expresses that sentiment out loud. Lucky for the both of them the only thing he can think to respond with is a long drawn out sigh.]
I don't know what that is. Is that your cosplay?
[There are youngsters into all sorts of things lately, he wouldn't put that past the guy. But he's not here to yuck anyone's yum. He simply watches for any sign of discomfort or illness or strange aftertaste in the stranger and after a moment decides to taste some of the untouched food into his plate. That food being the most vegetable heavy-- go figure.]
[ you'd think that question might piss him off more, but instead he just looks confused. more about the first part than the second, funnily enough. at least this time he isn't talking with his mouth full. ]
Must live a real nice life if you've never even heard of a paripus, mate. We're kinda all over the place. Y'know, maybe stepped over one on your way to the opera, something like that?
[ hard to judge if anyone here is actually someone important or from a higher tribe when they've all been forced into dressing up to begin with and don't look like anything he recognizes, but what other conclusion can he draw here? ]
[ Okay, this is not... exactly how Wei Wuxian wanted to wake up but here he is, getting assaulted by a cat boy before he even has the chance to realize he's naked. He was out cold on one of the limousine seats, dozing lightly when he's suddenly got a lapful of Del and doesn't know what to make of it. He winces, rubbing at an eye and isn't sure if he should shove off the guy or let him be.
For now, he sits up on his elbows and looks around. Is he... naked? What is this place? Where is he? Ah, beans, don't tell him someone summoned him without his consent again. This better still be his own body though. ]
Okay, I won't tell you that. [ But it's true, so!! ] Now, what's the problem with the doors?
[ that question's half answered with the gearshift ramming into his spine, but there's still a solid half of him to shove aside. on the other hand, he's at least decent enough not to kick and flail obnoxiously and make everything ten times worse, so there's that. if anything, he's only tempted to kick the door—if he weren't barefoot, he probably would. or also just naked in general. ]
They won't open. Hang on—
[ he's going to try and extract himself from this situation without anyone getting flashed, kicked in the face, or otherwise traumatized by this interaction (more than the standard, at least), but it involves some very awkward wriggling as he tries to pull himself into the passenger seat. ]
Did you try 'em already? What about the... that's a window, right?
[ You know what? Wei Wuxian is even going to be a gentleman and not call attention to the fact that Fidelio is kind of in a compromising position here. He just lets Fidelio do the squirming thing, staying in his place until the last bit of him is out of Wei Wuxian's lap and then he shifts to adjust, sitting up instead of laying sprawled out on the seat. ]
I was asleep.
[ So, nope, he didn't try anything. Windows though, he glances at the shiny surfaces surrounding them and considers. It looks... expensive and definitely gives him hesitation. He doesn't have much experience with glass windows so he wouldn't know it as something to break, but he can put together the context clues here. ]
I think you're right, it must be a window. It looks like something we might be able to break.
[ bless him for that, because boy does he know. first thing he does is pull down on that robe and readjust how he had it belted, since loosened during all his rumbling around. not that he's overly concerned with modesty at a time like this, but—come on, man. ]
Not bare-handed, unless you're gonna say you're that strong. You don't look it, no offense. I already tried banging on it a little.
[ there's a special sort of lack of apology in his voice at that "no offense," like he's used to being a smartass all the time and maybe half of what he says "no offense" to is actually offensive, but in this case he's definitely not trying to get on Wei Wuxian's nerves. not when they're stuck in here with no clothes and no idea what's going on. a tilt of his head toward the back he just crawled through from, and Fidelio finishes fiddling with his robe. ]
There's bottles 'n whatnot back there. Could work, maybe. Or the trays? If that glass's as thick as a runner's, though, we got problems.
[For being so small, Fidelio is hilariously hard to miss, shining almost like a disco ball in his extremely fancy suit. Yu's look is more subdued, by contrast; a sensible black suit, yellow shirt, black tie. Easy. Chill. Yu himself is usually like that, too, and honestly he'd be perfectly happy to ignore the meat pies entirely, except...
well. When Fidelio says it that way, it sounds almost like a challenge.
The typical protag combo of bravado, chaos, and only using one (1) single brain cell takes over. Making unblinking eye contact with the smaller (dog-eared??? he'll deal with that part later) guy, he reaches for one of the pies.]
[ it was a challenge as much as it was a warning, and evidently he had every intention of acting on it, because the minute that hand reaches out, Del springs for it. this isn't the sort of behavior he'd ordinarily engage in, really, at least not these days (his days of mauling someone for some food scraps are behind him, thankfully), but something about this particular meal's got him fucked up. if it's in the sexy way like the peacock god intended, that must be taking awhile to kick in, because all he's left with is food aggression.
he grabs hold of Yu's wrist while somehow managing to keep ahold of the half-full plate he's already got in his other hand, ears pinned back and lips pulled back. too bad the tough guy snarl is watered down a bit by the awkward shuffle he does to try and body-block that food. ]
You wanna go, mate? Don't think I won't boot you across the floor if you try that again.
[They say that stupid is contagious. Well-- not really, no one says that, but the stupid seems nonetheless to be escalating rapidly. Yu's surprised, maybe a little impressed, by how this guy seems to be giving off such a tough guy impression when Yu has almost a foot on him in height and he's dressed a little like a nightmarishly bedazzled furry art. Not to mention the fact that he's got Yu's wrist and his own plate held in a perfect balancing act while presenting that tough guy front.
Thou art I. I am thou. Thou hath fucked around, and thou shalt find out.
And he's going to continue to fuck around, apparently.
Because Fidelio currently has zero hands free, and he has one, so he's reaching for one of the meat pies directly off of the plate now.]
[ okay, well. he said he was going to boot Yu, but that's not what he does, actually. not that it wouldn't be a fair play, using his feet while his hands are occupied, but it just so happens that a better weapon is available thanks to the proximity of plate plus reaching hand plus height difference. it's just mathematics, babyebebe.
anyway, what i'm getting at is Fidelio tilts his head down and bites Yu's hand. just chomps that sucker. in spite of appearances, he doesn't have rabid carnivore teeth with a locking jaw or anything that dire, but they are pretty sharp. sharp enough that they'd break skin if this wasn't simply a warning bite. it'll bruise, but Yu won't have to worry about turning into a werepuppy or anything. ]
[It's not the first time he's been awoken by way of not knowing where he is. In fact, it happens so frequently here he's just come to expect it by now. Normally this means someone else is in his bed or something, and while this isn't his bed, someone else is here.
Kazuya creeks one eye open as he's yelled at, the epitome of calm and collected.
Hm.
Cat?
No, not quite.
Cat person. Cute...
He's too sleepy to stop himself. Probably wouldn't stop himself even if he wasn't as he reaches out to try and fucking pet the guy yelling at him.]
Cat...
[He's being so fucking helpful.]
i'm calling the police (sends a message in a bottle to stewart copeland)
[ of all the discriminatory things he's heard, cat is really up there. the level of offense is so high. jail for Kazuya for one thousand years.
no, but it is jarring that while he's busy having a gearshift drive uncomfortably against his tailbone and just discovered he's not alone in this weird, long, fancy naked prison, he also suddenly has a hand reaching toward his face. in the confusion, he doesn't even get it together enough to smack that hand away (or bite it, because i guess he's going to bite all the atlus characters today) and winds up being innocently pet on the head. his ears twitch unhappily.
[ Oh no... the ear twitch is possibly one of the cutest things he's ever seen, despite how disgruntled cat-guy is. It's like an arrow right into and through his heart.
Even if he's still being yelled at. His hand is slow to move. Very slow to move, but it does eventually, and he ends up blinking. ]
Oh. Sorry. Not the time?
[ There is never a right time to accost cat-boys, idiot.
He does, also very slowly, realize this is not his bed. And that the backseat isn't nearly as comfortable as it. So he'll roll, and hit the floor momentarily before he tries to get up and put the pieces of the puzzle together. ]
[ while Kazuya sorts his life out, Del focuses on fixing his robe and then his hair, in that order, ears flattened back. for being canine, he sure does look an awful lot like a scottish fold. it's an easy mistake to make. ]
Not ever the time, like. Do you just go around touching random strangers normally or were you feeling extra numpty today?
[ grumble grumble grumble. as if he doesn't want to be pet, actually? just, yeah, maybe not right now. not like this. it took long enough for him to let Junah get away with it, this kid's got a long way to go. in the meantime, Fidelio casts a cursory glance around at the word "car", with absolutely no recognition in those eyes whatsoever. ]
Dunno what it is. Some kinda weird room. Woke up here same as you.
[The man...lizard...thing that hops onto the stool across from Del (which he just shoved one of the hotel residents out of, but don't worry about it, it's fine, it's cool) is clearly drunk, from the way he sways and nearly topples right back off to his out of sync blinking. It's not the fun kind of drunk, either; the vibes are bad, the kind of belligerent that's looking for a fight or a hookup or both, possibly at the same time.
Bltizø leans one elbow on the table, pointing a weaving finger at the purple sinner(?) across from him. He idly scratches his chest, the sequined suit they'd forced on him at the door catching the light in frankly upsetting ways, all swirls of neon color that looks like the 60s puked in a stripper's glitter collection.]
Y'know, I can help with that. What're you into, bondage, roleplay, butt stuff?
pardonne waht is zis.. zis qu'est-que ce... leetle fucker? leetle freak fucker in mon inbox?
[ things were going so well up until that card, man. so normal. just a perfectly regular house of cards game with boring questions, and now this. and now this. Fidelio's ears flatten as his new... competitor?? hops onto the table. he's seen some shit in here, but no lizard people, which is a tribe he can't even begin to guess at and doesn't dare try. especially not while he's being dragged to filth in front of everyone. ]
I never said—! Shut your fat gob, wouldja?
[ if he was flushed before, he's beet red now. and here he thought he was difficult to scandalize. not even the whole "sex casino where you have to fuck everybody to leave" got more than a flat "what the bleating fuck" out of him (although that might've also just been because he didn't believe it at first, but still). ]
None of that was on the card. You try'n pull one, you're gonna lose on the first round. You sober enough to catch that?
[oooo, struck a nerve! Blitzø bears all his teeth in an unsteady grin. This might actually be fun. Fucking finally. So far everyone he's encountered has been DTF but way too pleasant to be interesting. This one, though... this one has a mouth on him.]
Yeah yeah yeah, unbunch your panties, sister.
[What even is this game? Take a card from the tower, read the question and answer it? Too easy. Blitzø has this one in the bag (he thinks). Shame is for other people.
He leans forward and snags a card, making the tower wobble precariously.]
Pfhhbbt. "Sexy clown or sexy cowboy?" Easy. Whichever one is bringing the horse, amiright? [The dealer just stares at him, then makes a "go on" gesture. Tough fucking crowd.] Ugh, fine. Cowboy. At least they usually bring their own ropes.
[At least the dress code this time is actually tolerable. Even if it's probably something about having more pieces of clothing to remove... whatever. Akechi's drifted aimlessly to the food table, half hoping something will be spiked so he can have an excuse to slip away.
(The House would let them out to play the game, wouldn't it?)
He gets distracted by Fidelio almost immediately. Maybe someone from Aak's world? He looks young, but he's never known the house to bring someone unreasonably underage.
Akechi considers him, for a long moment, and how nice he wants to be.]
...Careful, now. They like to put aphrodisiacs in the food and drink.
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peacockstop2025-01-15 09:00 pm
fidelio magnus / metaphor: refantazio (new character)
black tie and tail(s)
fidelio.carrd.co
ooc
THROWS DA WHOLE DECK OF CARDS AT UR FACE
And like the rest of the table, Roche can't help his own curiosity — the barely-there cough and the way the card gets placed face-up has him leaning up and peering over with everyone else, even as he silently answers that whose turn is it by reaching for one of his own. An easy one, just to make things interesting. ]
No shame in that, my friend. Although... I can't imagine you'd have any trouble finding someone if you were looking to change that.
[ Is he offering???? Who knows? Roche doesn't look up as he says it, his attention drifting down to the card in his own hand for a moment. Then, it goes down onto the table: What’s the weirdest food you’ve ever eaten? ]
Deep-fried malboro tentacles. At least if we're talking about food from my home, otherwise... I'd say one of those gaudy burgers they've got over at the Egg — you know, the ones with caviar and gold flakes? Horrible aftertaste, but I'd say it's worth doing at least once simply to say you did it.
memo to me: maim you after my meeting
[ this place is like, the sex depot, he gets it. the instant flush of color in his face utterly refuses to vacate the premises, so he settles for folding his arms and living with it like it isn't there until it does fade. he's half-expecting the next card to be a filthy question, too, but they're blessedly spared a twofer. not that he can't handle it or anything, it's just, like... geez. ]
Malboro—tentacles? Like off a sea monster?
[ not this shit again. Del's nose wrinkles, albeit not necessarily with disgust. looks nasty, but would he have eaten it if they'd fried it up and served it? ...........possibly. his gaze, in the meantime, scans the card house, searching for his next mark. maybe showing off was a mistake, last time. ]
Haven't been to that place yet. Or rather I went there, but the look'a the place made me positive I'd yack everywhere if I went about grubbing with a smell like that coming from inside. If they're puttin' metal in the food, then I was right.
[ first they put mercury in the gatorade, NOW THIS?
a turn of the wrist, and he traps his chosen card between two fingers, tugging delicately at it. steady.. steady... ]
(👁 ͜ʖ👁)
[ AKA not good at all. Roche's nose wrinkles at the memory of it, his eyes following the motion of Del's hand. Easy does it— Not too fast, now— ]
The rest of the menu isn't nearly as off, I promise you that much. They've got a damn good soup that I try to pick up at least once a week and the rolls they serve with it is much better than any gold they could serve.
[ There's a pause and a quiet gasp from someone off to his right when the stack of cards barely moves, but it doesn't fall. Even Roche lets out a breath he hadn't known he was holding, and leans closer as if he means to peek over the top. ]
What'd you get this time?
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or maybe just: that's nasty.
doubtless the mental image in his head is nothing compared to a real malboro, cooked or otherwise, but either version absolutely rankle his appetite. good thing he already stuffed his gullet full of meat pies before he got to the table!
it's while his gaze is still fixed on Roche's that the card slips free, which is kinda unintentionally badass, especially with that wobble. once it's loose, Del turns it between his fingers to read the question, brow furrowing. ]
"Family, or friends"? What kind of stupid question is that?
[ before recent events, he would've said "family," hands down, the end, no question, no contest, but—well. it's still going to be his answer, but it makes him feel kind of... weird. the way things have been going, the subtle shift in dynamics between himself and everyone else, it really gets him thinking, for a minute... or it would if he didn't give his head a shake as if to clear away the overthink-y thoughts. Del lays that card down with the rest of the ones he's drawn. ]
Family, obviously. Can't choose 'em. They're all you've got when it comes right down to it.
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black tie
Shit, he's apprehensive about the perfectly tailored suit, and weird apparitions urging him toward the party hall. Nothing about any of this makes sense, and without anyone to give him orders or guide him into and through social interactions, he ends up doing a lot of surveillance himself. Standing around like an idiot as the people around him have a good time earning some sort of currency that he's unfamiliar with. It would make more sense if the place was a casino but he hasn't found a single poker table without half naked players.
But the food looks appetizing, at least. He lingers nearby to watch people eat and others avoid it all together, so it's hard to tell whether or not its safe. At least until someone small barks at him for staring too long at food that was already claimed.]
All yours... [Naturally he doubletakes. Was that a tail?]
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at any rate, Del's shoulders relax. he's just shoved an entire half of one of those bad boys in his mouth when he catches that glance toward his tail. it's real, alright, and so are the flopped over ears on top of his head, both of which pin back in annoyance. ]
What? Ain't you ever seen a paripus before?
[ i mean, he's starting to think that might be accurate. no obvious hint what tribe this guy's from, either, which seems to be a theme. are people even, like, from tribes here? Rude's kind of big... maybe rhoag? ]
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I don't know what that is. Is that your cosplay?
[There are youngsters into all sorts of things lately, he wouldn't put that past the guy. But he's not here to yuck anyone's yum. He simply watches for any sign of discomfort or illness or strange aftertaste in the stranger and after a moment decides to taste some of the untouched food into his plate. That food being the most vegetable heavy-- go figure.]
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Must live a real nice life if you've never even heard of a paripus, mate. We're kinda all over the place. Y'know, maybe stepped over one on your way to the opera, something like that?
[ hard to judge if anyone here is actually someone important or from a higher tribe when they've all been forced into dressing up to begin with and don't look like anything he recognizes, but what other conclusion can he draw here? ]
What's a cosplay, anyway?
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lowrider!
For now, he sits up on his elbows and looks around. Is he... naked? What is this place? Where is he? Ah, beans, don't tell him someone summoned him without his consent again. This better still be his own body though. ]
Okay, I won't tell you that. [ But it's true, so!! ] Now, what's the problem with the doors?
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They won't open. Hang on—
[ he's going to try and extract himself from this situation without anyone getting flashed, kicked in the face, or otherwise traumatized by this interaction (more than the standard, at least), but it involves some very awkward wriggling as he tries to pull himself into the passenger seat. ]
Did you try 'em already? What about the... that's a window, right?
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I was asleep.
[ So, nope, he didn't try anything. Windows though, he glances at the shiny surfaces surrounding them and considers. It looks... expensive and definitely gives him hesitation. He doesn't have much experience with glass windows so he wouldn't know it as something to break, but he can put together the context clues here. ]
I think you're right, it must be a window. It looks like something we might be able to break.
[ It must be, right? ]
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Not bare-handed, unless you're gonna say you're that strong. You don't look it, no offense. I already tried banging on it a little.
[ there's a special sort of lack of apology in his voice at that "no offense," like he's used to being a smartass all the time and maybe half of what he says "no offense" to is actually offensive, but in this case he's definitely not trying to get on Wei Wuxian's nerves. not when they're stuck in here with no clothes and no idea what's going on. a tilt of his head toward the back he just crawled through from, and Fidelio finishes fiddling with his robe. ]
There's bottles 'n whatnot back there. Could work, maybe. Or the trays? If that glass's as thick as a runner's, though, we got problems.
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black tie and stupid, more like
well. When Fidelio says it that way, it sounds almost like a challenge.
The typical protag combo of bravado, chaos, and only using one (1) single brain cell takes over. Making unblinking eye contact with the smaller (dog-eared??? he'll deal with that part later) guy, he reaches for one of the pies.]
formally idiotic
[ it was a challenge as much as it was a warning, and evidently he had every intention of acting on it, because the minute that hand reaches out, Del springs for it. this isn't the sort of behavior he'd ordinarily engage in, really, at least not these days (his days of mauling someone for some food scraps are behind him, thankfully), but something about this particular meal's got him fucked up. if it's in the sexy way like the peacock god intended, that must be taking awhile to kick in, because all he's left with is food aggression.
he grabs hold of Yu's wrist while somehow managing to keep ahold of the half-full plate he's already got in his other hand, ears pinned back and lips pulled back. too bad the tough guy snarl is watered down a bit by the awkward shuffle he does to try and body-block that food. ]
You wanna go, mate? Don't think I won't boot you across the floor if you try that again.
soon to be formerly...rip
[They say that stupid is contagious. Well-- not really, no one says that, but the stupid seems nonetheless to be escalating rapidly. Yu's surprised, maybe a little impressed, by how this guy seems to be giving off such a tough guy impression when Yu has almost a foot on him in height and he's dressed a little like a nightmarishly bedazzled furry art. Not to mention the fact that he's got Yu's wrist and his own plate held in a perfect balancing act while presenting that tough guy front.
Thou art I. I am thou. Thou hath fucked around, and thou shalt find out.
And he's going to continue to fuck around, apparently.
Because Fidelio currently has zero hands free, and he has one, so he's reaching for one of the meat pies directly off of the plate now.]
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anyway, what i'm getting at is Fidelio tilts his head down and bites Yu's hand. just chomps that sucker. in spite of appearances, he doesn't have rabid carnivore teeth with a locking jaw or anything that dire, but they are pretty sharp. sharp enough that they'd break skin if this wasn't simply a warning bite. it'll bruise, but Yu won't have to worry about turning into a werepuppy or anything. ]
Paws off!!
[ lol ]
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im here to macroaggression del, sent by way of one (1) Faltora.
Kazuya creeks one eye open as he's yelled at, the epitome of calm and collected.
Hm.
Cat?
No, not quite.
Cat person. Cute...
He's too sleepy to stop himself. Probably wouldn't stop himself even if he wasn't as he reaches out to try and fucking pet the guy yelling at him.]
Cat...
[He's being so fucking helpful.]
i'm calling the police (sends a message in a bottle to stewart copeland)
no, but it is jarring that while he's busy having a gearshift drive uncomfortably against his tailbone and just discovered he's not alone in this weird, long, fancy naked prison, he also suddenly has a hand reaching toward his face. in the confusion, he doesn't even get it together enough to smack that hand away (or bite it, because i guess he's going to bite all the atlus characters today) and winds up being innocently pet on the head. his ears twitch unhappily.
this is the weirdest moment of his life. ]
I'm not a—can you not do that right now?!
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Even if he's still being yelled at. His hand is slow to move. Very slow to move, but it does eventually, and he ends up blinking. ]
Oh. Sorry. Not the time?
[ There is never a right time to accost cat-boys, idiot.
He does, also very slowly, realize this is not his bed. And that the backseat isn't nearly as comfortable as it. So he'll roll, and hit the floor momentarily before he tries to get up and put the pieces of the puzzle together. ]
... Are we in a car?
[ Obviously. ]
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Not ever the time, like. Do you just go around touching random strangers normally or were you feeling extra numpty today?
[ grumble grumble grumble. as if he doesn't want to be pet, actually? just, yeah, maybe not right now. not like this. it took long enough for him to let Junah get away with it, this kid's got a long way to go. in the meantime, Fidelio casts a cursory glance around at the word "car", with absolutely no recognition in those eyes whatsoever. ]
Dunno what it is. Some kinda weird room. Woke up here same as you.
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i'd apologize but you basically dared me to ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
[The man...lizard...thing that hops onto the stool across from Del (which he just shoved one of the hotel residents out of, but don't worry about it, it's fine, it's cool) is clearly drunk, from the way he sways and nearly topples right back off to his out of sync blinking. It's not the fun kind of drunk, either; the vibes are bad, the kind of belligerent that's looking for a fight or a hookup or both, possibly at the same time.
Bltizø leans one elbow on the table, pointing a weaving finger at the purple sinner(?) across from him. He idly scratches his chest, the sequined suit they'd forced on him at the door catching the light in frankly upsetting ways, all swirls of neon color that looks like the 60s puked in a stripper's glitter collection.]
Y'know, I can help with that. What're you into, bondage, roleplay, butt stuff?
pardonne waht is zis.. zis qu'est-que ce... leetle fucker? leetle freak fucker in mon inbox?
I never said—! Shut your fat gob, wouldja?
[ if he was flushed before, he's beet red now. and here he thought he was difficult to scandalize. not even the whole "sex casino where you have to fuck everybody to leave" got more than a flat "what the bleating fuck" out of him (although that might've also just been because he didn't believe it at first, but still). ]
None of that was on the card. You try'n pull one, you're gonna lose on the first round. You sober enough to catch that?
dios mio la creatura
Yeah yeah yeah, unbunch your panties, sister.
[What even is this game? Take a card from the tower, read the question and answer it? Too easy. Blitzø has this one in the bag (he thinks). Shame is for other people.
He leans forward and snags a card, making the tower wobble precariously.]
Pfhhbbt. "Sexy clown or sexy cowboy?" Easy. Whichever one is bringing the horse, amiright? [The dealer just stares at him, then makes a "go on" gesture. Tough fucking crowd.] Ugh, fine. Cowboy. At least they usually bring their own ropes.
im coming for the paripussy i mean meat pie
(The House would let them out to play the game, wouldn't it?)
He gets distracted by Fidelio almost immediately. Maybe someone from Aak's world? He looks young, but he's never known the house to bring someone unreasonably underage.
Akechi considers him, for a long moment, and how nice he wants to be.]
...Careful, now. They like to put aphrodisiacs in the food and drink.