【 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.
[The fawning partygoers are drawn to power and prestige, or at least the appearance of it. Desperate to have some of it rub off on them by favor of association. They don't know the man they're grasping at. But theirs isn't the only attention Geto's display has drawn.
Neither the designated minion, nor one of the status seekers, Nanami is still making his way through the crowd toward the familiar figure on the palanquin when the order is issued. He hears it though (winces a little, internally—at least it wasn't "monkeys") and quickens his steps to break through the people milling around on the opposite side.]
Why don't I disperse them instead? We should talk, anyway.
[Seven may be the bottom of the mid-ranks, but it's still higher status than most of these groupies can claim. His tall, broad physique and the black patch over his left eye, matching the rest of his black tie attire, also adds to his intimidation factor. It only takes a stern look and a, "Go on, find someone else to gawk at," to scatter them, some grumbling as they walk away, others casting wistful looks over their shoulders. He waits until the stragglers clear off, turning from one side to the other to make sure, before addressing Geto again.]
[ that flaxen shade of hair has lost its uniqueness in a less homogenous environment than their home country, and its style is far different than last he remembers it. though they had texted over their watches before his unfortunate... statuefication, and he'd been made aware of his schoolmate's many years on him, seeing him like this in the flesh... ]
[ all that well-muscled flesh he turns his head towards at the familiar sound. his voice isn't so very different: low and dry, joyless, gritted a bit more with age but identifiable. it feels like that's all that remains familiar, and golden eyes take a moment to adjust, pupils lens-flickering into recognition. ]
Nanami-kun. [ the honorific is simultaneously natural and odd, now. his eyes linger meaningfully on the one missing, his fingers twitching, moving between them with some desire to do... something. after a beat, it withdraws, seeming to think better of invading personal space. instead, he taps a palanquin holder's head twice with his fan, and all of them move in unison to deposit the thing in a quiet corner. ]
All right, everyone, break time. Thank you for your hard work~. [ silk sheets and pillows and Getou luxuriously draped upon them, but he pulls his feet up beneath him to give Nanami room to sit, patting the spot with just a hint of playful suggestion. ]
Is that what you want to talk about? My "entrance"? [ haha. ]
[He keeps pace with the procession as they move to set their charge down, waits for Geto to step out, but— Ah. It seems he's expected to join him instead. After a moment of consideration, he ducks down and kneels in the space that's been freed up for him.]
No.
[Having had extensive practice ignoring innuendo, he doesn't miss a beat.]
I'd rather discuss your absence. What do you remember, if anything?
[It isn't the first time someone he's known here has gone missing for an extended period only to turn up later, but there were discrepancies between the other two cases. He'd like to know which, if either, Geto's experience is more similar to. Does he remember this place at all?
And then there's his unspoken obligation, bundled in with the burden of future knowledge, to check on Geto more generally. He studies his expression, his posture, as if they might offer some clues to his state of mind. Seeing him at this age is odd in a different way than it is with Gojo and Ieiri. With those two, it was an adjustment because he was so accustomed to dealing with their older selves. But Geto had largely fallen off Nanami's personal radar for years after his departure, up until his declaration of war with the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons. The majority of his memories of him are entwined with their school days. Like this he's more familiar, not less, but still an enigma.]
[ capable of taking one to the chin, he lets the situation roll on without comment, gentled into polite obedience by any number of factors, though his penchant for mischief and the champagne are liable to percolate in due time. straight to business... why, who's dying now? ]
[ and who even still thinks about trying to get out of this place or figure it out after as long as Nanami has been here now? gotta respect the diligence, even if there's nothing but futility in questioning the Six Eyes. if something were breakable, wouldn't the crack have been found by now? ]
I was here, I turned into stone, and now I'm here again. [ a hapless shrug, noncommittal. ] Blink and you miss it.
[ a better fate than a bullet in the brain. around the nonstop party-induced weariness, there's that thing that's been there for too long now: the same tired pity that watches young girls die, underclassmen lose eyes, one boy stand above it all. heavy is the crown. ]
Is the thing that did that to you dead? [ even in training, Getou's never pulled punches; he doesn't start now. tit for tat, his furthered cooperation hinging on the reception. ]
[More like Hawks' situation had been, then. That's good, he supposes. Less to fill in if they're not starting from square one on the whole thing. He'll take whatever tiny blessings he can find.
Then there's the inevitable question about his injury and it takes effort to keep the tension from his voice when he responds.]
It's dead.
['Technically, so am I,' is on the tip of his tongue, but he hesitates. He's not determined to keep that information under wraps anymore—no point when it's already gotten out. It would only be a matter of time and he'd rather that Geto hear it from him. But does it have to be now? Is there any way to ease into it, or will it be worse the longer he puts it off? Above all, he'd hate to be a tipping point.
(Selfishly, he's also sick of managing other people's feelings about it.)
He'll break the news soon, but not here, not now. Not in the first five minutes of conversation, not in the middle of this exhausting party. That's an acceptable compromise.]
I've adjusted, more or less. I'm still accurate with my technique without it. No need for concern.
[ it's selfish of him then, to want to offer it anyway? Nanami's performed his expectations brilliantly; is praise of that what he's deserved or just an extension of his own ego? the hurt, harrowed way Getou looks at him, lingering long on the black, empty nothingness of the patch over his eye... ]
[ ultimately, he knows, Nanami's never wanted anyone to make a big deal over him; he's never bothered to find out of it was shyness or something less personal. the guilt of it is almost funny. of course he'd think so now, far away from home and injured and old as he is. ]
I'm not concerned, [ he lies with a smile, not because he doesn't believe in Nanami's capabilities. ] Besides, you're far more handsome and mysterious like this. Do you remember what you were like in school?
[ hands raise, parallel palms, indicating a tiiiiiny amount of girth as they press upon some invisible force. ]
[The passing relief he feels at not being pressed for more details is weighed down with the heaviness of secrets, of a dark look he can't help but read into. So much unsaid on both sides. Scrutiny of this surface loss is still a safer kind of pain.
He takes the out that's offered with a mild frown at the comparison with his younger appearance. Don't remind him...]
I was not that skinny. [It was only that his height, when combined with how the rest of his body hadn't yet caught up to his already-broadening shoulders, had made him appear more gangling than he would have otherwise.] You're exaggerating.
But thank you for your dietary wisdom.
[Did that come out normally enough? He supposes any discrepancies in conduct or demeanor with his teenage self can be easily attributed to the passage of time, the strangeness of their current situation, or both. Don't overthink it.]
[ it's not the bullseyed response to his teasing that gets a snort of amusement out of him, but the performative appreciation that follows it. Nanami Kento — stickler for the rules sensitive to the faux pas of their community-minded society. if he endeavors to teach Gojou his P's and Q's to make a better impression on others, he can pivot to try and impart the exact opposite advice to Nanami without feeling anything at all like a hypocrite. there's a middle ground there: something he thinks maybe Haibara has affected, for all that Ieiri is disaffected. ]
[ there's one touch of humanism on him and, like a brilliant beacon, Getou floats to it as a moth to flame. sloppy and graceless with liquor in his youthful system, not as practiced at it as he would have been the last time Nanami laid eyes on him in their world; his fingers wrap around the cheetah-print tie hanging about his neck and give it a hearty tug down. ]
Oh, I love this. [ rosy-cheeked sincerity, ]. I always did think you had one of the better senses of fashion between all of us.
king for a day
Neither the designated minion, nor one of the status seekers, Nanami is still making his way through the crowd toward the familiar figure on the palanquin when the order is issued. He hears it though (winces a little, internally—at least it wasn't "monkeys") and quickens his steps to break through the people milling around on the opposite side.]
Why don't I disperse them instead? We should talk, anyway.
[Seven may be the bottom of the mid-ranks, but it's still higher status than most of these groupies can claim. His tall, broad physique and the black patch over his left eye, matching the rest of his black tie attire, also adds to his intimidation factor. It only takes a stern look and a, "Go on, find someone else to gawk at," to scatter them, some grumbling as they walk away, others casting wistful looks over their shoulders. He waits until the stragglers clear off, turning from one side to the other to make sure, before addressing Geto again.]
So, making a grand re-entrance?
[He has a knack for that, doesn't he?]
no subject
[ all that well-muscled flesh he turns his head towards at the familiar sound. his voice isn't so very different: low and dry, joyless, gritted a bit more with age but identifiable. it feels like that's all that remains familiar, and golden eyes take a moment to adjust, pupils lens-flickering into recognition. ]
Nanami-kun. [ the honorific is simultaneously natural and odd, now. his eyes linger meaningfully on the one missing, his fingers twitching, moving between them with some desire to do... something. after a beat, it withdraws, seeming to think better of invading personal space. instead, he taps a palanquin holder's head twice with his fan, and all of them move in unison to deposit the thing in a quiet corner. ]
All right, everyone, break time. Thank you for your hard work~. [ silk sheets and pillows and Getou luxuriously draped upon them, but he pulls his feet up beneath him to give Nanami room to sit, patting the spot with just a hint of playful suggestion. ]
Is that what you want to talk about? My "entrance"? [ haha. ]
no subject
No.
[Having had extensive practice ignoring innuendo, he doesn't miss a beat.]
I'd rather discuss your absence. What do you remember, if anything?
[It isn't the first time someone he's known here has gone missing for an extended period only to turn up later, but there were discrepancies between the other two cases. He'd like to know which, if either, Geto's experience is more similar to. Does he remember this place at all?
And then there's his unspoken obligation, bundled in with the burden of future knowledge, to check on Geto more generally. He studies his expression, his posture, as if they might offer some clues to his state of mind. Seeing him at this age is odd in a different way than it is with Gojo and Ieiri. With those two, it was an adjustment because he was so accustomed to dealing with their older selves. But Geto had largely fallen off Nanami's personal radar for years after his departure, up until his declaration of war with the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons. The majority of his memories of him are entwined with their school days. Like this he's more familiar, not less, but still an enigma.]
no subject
[ and who even still thinks about trying to get out of this place or figure it out after as long as Nanami has been here now? gotta respect the diligence, even if there's nothing but futility in questioning the Six Eyes. if something were breakable, wouldn't the crack have been found by now? ]
I was here, I turned into stone, and now I'm here again. [ a hapless shrug, noncommittal. ] Blink and you miss it.
[ a better fate than a bullet in the brain. around the nonstop party-induced weariness, there's that thing that's been there for too long now: the same tired pity that watches young girls die, underclassmen lose eyes, one boy stand above it all. heavy is the crown. ]
Is the thing that did that to you dead? [ even in training, Getou's never pulled punches; he doesn't start now. tit for tat, his furthered cooperation hinging on the reception. ]
no subject
Then there's the inevitable question about his injury and it takes effort to keep the tension from his voice when he responds.]
It's dead.
['Technically, so am I,' is on the tip of his tongue, but he hesitates. He's not determined to keep that information under wraps anymore—no point when it's already gotten out. It would only be a matter of time and he'd rather that Geto hear it from him. But does it have to be now? Is there any way to ease into it, or will it be worse the longer he puts it off? Above all, he'd hate to be a tipping point.
(Selfishly, he's also sick of managing other people's feelings about it.)
He'll break the news soon, but not here, not now. Not in the first five minutes of conversation, not in the middle of this exhausting party. That's an acceptable compromise.]
I've adjusted, more or less. I'm still accurate with my technique without it. No need for concern.
no subject
[ it's selfish of him then, to want to offer it anyway? Nanami's performed his expectations brilliantly; is praise of that what he's deserved or just an extension of his own ego? the hurt, harrowed way Getou looks at him, lingering long on the black, empty nothingness of the patch over his eye... ]
[ ultimately, he knows, Nanami's never wanted anyone to make a big deal over him; he's never bothered to find out of it was shyness or something less personal. the guilt of it is almost funny. of course he'd think so now, far away from home and injured and old as he is. ]
I'm not concerned, [ he lies with a smile, not because he doesn't believe in Nanami's capabilities. ] Besides, you're far more handsome and mysterious like this. Do you remember what you were like in school?
[ hands raise, parallel palms, indicating a tiiiiiny amount of girth as they press upon some invisible force. ]
I told you to eat more protein...
no subject
He takes the out that's offered with a mild frown at the comparison with his younger appearance. Don't remind him...]
I was not that skinny. [It was only that his height, when combined with how the rest of his body hadn't yet caught up to his already-broadening shoulders, had made him appear more gangling than he would have otherwise.] You're exaggerating.
But thank you for your dietary wisdom.
[Did that come out normally enough? He supposes any discrepancies in conduct or demeanor with his teenage self can be easily attributed to the passage of time, the strangeness of their current situation, or both. Don't overthink it.]
no subject
[ there's one touch of humanism on him and, like a brilliant beacon, Getou floats to it as a moth to flame. sloppy and graceless with liquor in his youthful system, not as practiced at it as he would have been the last time Nanami laid eyes on him in their world; his fingers wrap around the cheetah-print tie hanging about his neck and give it a hearty tug down. ]
Oh, I love this. [ rosy-cheeked sincerity, ]. I always did think you had one of the better senses of fashion between all of us.
[ second to himself, of course. ]