【 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 pulsing aesthetic lights lining the inside roof and floorboard of the luxury car is what first makes his lids flutter. The sky is a lot different; he realizes it isn't a sky at all.
For a long moment, he lies there getting his bearings, and then he pushes himself into a lounging sit. The golden robe on him is terribly sheer; however, the body beneath it is not normal enough for embarrassment: indigo flesh mottled by golden flecks of harvested metal and interwoven with iridescent lines of periodically shimmering purple. There is no genitalia either, so he does not bother trying to pull the robe modestly over his thighs.
It isn't the blanket toga, but that's fine. His body is intact. He's brushing his peculiar fingers over the darkened splotch on the center of his chest when he realizes he is not in this car alone.]
Hello.
[This is what you say in greeting as an Eldritch horror messiah.]
II. Dirty Dice
[A hilarious game to play with him, truly. He rolls the dice over the backs of his fingers and catches them as they drop off the edge of his hand.
As scantily dressed as he had been initially, he is now in a more appropriate deep, navy suit. The only evidence of his eerie form are his strange hands and the creeping of the bizarre flesh up his neck into his hollow cheeks.
He offers the dice out to whoever may be brave enough to sit with him.]
Would you like to go first?
III. 1 or 11
[Anyone wandering around with a sub card will be told there is someone with a dominant one waiting in one of the private rooms.
After going in, however, there is a hysterically waifish man waiting politely inside. He does make an amiable offering of showing his card: an ace of spades.
He peers at whatever companion has ventured in with a kaleidoscope pair of eyes, intense but not exactly emotive. He raises one strangely indigo hand, not in outstretched greeting, but a craving reach toward a face, a head.]
Join me. Let me know you.
IV. House of Cards
[Time to take apart the card establishment without knocking the whole thing down.
Viktor is waiting for a partner, seeming somehow patient in the pursuit. He gestures toward the card house when one arrives.]
I do not mind who goes first.
Wildcard
[Feel free to wildcard me anywhere with anything! I'm super flexible. He doesn't really have genitalia in this form, so I kept it that way for more of a challenge, but let me know if you prefer something more defined to thread with. If you need to hash out anything, you can reply here, or PM me, and we can work another idea out.]
[ how long will i have the balls to tag this for, stay tuned
but yes, viktor does have a fun little buddy in the car with him, sprawled and lounging like he owns the place. unlike poor viktor, this man has his full set of genitalia, made apparently obvious by how little he wears. (spoilers: it's fucking nothing.) he leans forward at the greeting, lazy smile curving across his face. ]
There is a lot to take in here (girth), but his blue and gold eyes don't stray.
why did he say it that way.....]
Do you...
[But the Watch goes off, and he glances down at it briefly. Ah! Ah... This doesn't really explain much, but okay. He looks back up. This man doesn't have shit on...]
[ i can only be fast with shitposting, catch me ignoring all the actual tags in my inbox
but you know, it's very sweet of viktor to worry about his modesty. it's really just a shame belial doesn't have any left. ]
Feeling too warm? Or is it that you're looking to bare yourself before me already?
[ though apparently the mention of 'warm' seems to have triggered something in the deepest part of this car's psyche, because the aircon immediately turns on and starts blasting. does viktor still feel the cold, anna. ]
The cold is not the same for him, but he does feel the pressure of the blast. It swooshes his hair forward into his face before he turns to glance at the vents.
He's stuck with a demon and a ghost apparently.]
No, I thought you may need to get warm.
[The AC switches deftly to heat to blast them both with hot vibes, and it makes him look again at the vents.]
[The assigned as submissive man brought to Viktor will be... a hysterically buff guy. The hotel does so love stark contrast. Concord is 6 foot 6 and broad as all get out, with a single braid of hair the reaches the floor behind him. His mouth shifts at the greeting, framed by a sharply well maintained beard and mustache.
In further contrast to his looks, Concord's voice is very soft spoken and twangy, if sternly spoken.]
Concord. [Viktor asked to know him and Concord takes that to be some kind of a greeting, so he very plainly offers his name before asking in turn,]
His hand remains in the air, almost like a beckon to come forward without the curling fingers. It doesn't appear to bother him that he is the smaller one here.]
Viktor. I won't hurt you.
[Dominant or not, he doesn't have any intentions to be truly mean here.]
[Concord, on the other hand, is more rude than his folksy tone might lead one to believe,]
I don't think you could.
[for, like, a few reasons. He's not entirely a brat beyond the words. He's a military type, he can follow orders when given, so Concord will approach to be within reach.]
[ The strange, cosmically-mottled flesh is puzzling enough to draw attention, even after he's covered up. So Nehan finds himself staring a second too long before joining the table just to even out the lapse of decorum. He sits and stables his crutch onto a purse hook under the table, then carefully plucks off a card, pausing before he flips it.
Favorite ice cream flavor?
Easy squeezy for the first round. He foregoes a greeting, getting straight to it: ]
I don't have one. [ A lame answer, but a true one, given that he isn't immediately penalized. He glances up finally to his 'opponent.' ] Original rules make for a slow game. Why don't we raise the stakes a little, and both answer every card?
[ Not a bad deal, considering this first card of his is a gimme. ]
His eyes unabashedly follow the crutch as Nehan sits with him and tucks it away. It's terribly familiar; he finds his hand longing for a now twisted version of something like it, one that's currently missing. To get the antsy energy out of his hand, he idly rubs his thumb back and forth along the underside of his fingers.]
If you'd like.
[The solution to the game is to not knock the house of cards down, so he doesn't think he'll necessarily lose anything by answering questions - except, perhaps, information about himself. What does he have to hide when his mind has been linked with countless people anyway?]
Vanilla.
[This is apparently a truthful answer. He likes the sweet milk..........
After a moment of consideration, he reaches out to carefully remove one of the cards. And when he's sure not even his breath will make it wobble, he flips the card.]
"Where would you be if you hadn't followed your dream?"
He's not a man for pleasantries. Or whimsy, apparently, given the light little sigh he lets out. ]
Launching straight into the esoteric...
[ He doesn't see what the hotel gains from them waxing philosophical around a gambling table, but maybe it's just their idea of a hard question. He looks over the card, turning an answer over in his mind before he offers it. ]
The same place. [ His fate is a set course. Any "choices" are just branching off into predetermined pathways. ] But I've never been much for dreaming, anyway.
[ His watch doesn't go off. As well as he knows, this is the truth. ]
[He once said there was always a choice. But now he is thinking the choice is an illusion. Choice is the lie they tell themselves.
His brows furrow. He is not trying to dodge any answers, but he is curious. A natural way to be for him. Maybe a bit more curious about Nehan in particular. Similarities.]
What place exactly?
[He doesn't try to encourage Nehan to go for another card because he knows he has to have his own turn before that happens.]
his game partner is a curious one—hands warped with indigo and gold, the same pattern scaling the steep planes of his face. but perhaps what catches jing yuan's attention most is viktor's repose, like a stone set in the middle of a pond under rain. it is... perhaps not necessarily out of place (no more or less than any of them are), but certainly unusual given the nature of their surroundings.
jing yuan seats himself across from him and inclines his head in greeting. ]
If you'll allow me the honor. Though before we begin, would you prefer to play with or without introductions?
[ he doesn't mind either way, though he would understand if some players would prefer a more clinical approach.
whichever they decide on, he's gonna roll a 6. slap + 4. ass, yaaaay. i'm making all of these dumb. jing yuan blinks slowly at the dice, then looks up at viktor with an expression more suitable for a round of poker. ]
Well, then.
[ a spanking is fairly tame...... all things considered...... ]
If they are beginning already with a slapped ass, they may as well be introduced.]
My name is Viktor.
[His eyes sweep over Jing Yuan for a brief moment, an appraisal without any kind of judgment behind it. Just looking at the person who has sat with him for a game.]
[ his gaze flicks down briefly as he considers the probabilities of the dice, their alternative options. he then nods again. ]
I'd like to proceed. [ asking for permission isn't part of the game, but he still finds it prudent to add, ] I don't intend to use more force than necessary.
[ he offers a quiet smile. he is going to slap his ass! respectfully. ]
Viktor nods, both to the name and the go ahead. It's funny Jing Yuan is trying to reassure him about the force. He thinks about how difficult it would have been with how he was before. With the body he had before.
Slowly, he rises from where he is sitting.]
These games in particular seem a little silly considering what they want us to do.
[ getting an ace of diamonds makes the tattoo at the base of his spine tingle unpleasantly—maybe a reminiscence of the last time the house has tampered with his mark. there's no influence at least, just instructions, but he's wary after the house has been dozing away the month prior, like it's just been waiting to spring something on them.
apparently that something is new comers. so it doesn't surprise him when he steps inside and sees someone he doesn't know—approaching curiously. ]
... Do I get to know you back?
[ the low undercurrent of his essence flickers a little bit—the nature of this place always makes it twitch like a living thing under his skin, sweet and buzzing. ]
If you wish. That is the order of becoming one; knowing each other. Thoughts, and feelings, and desires, and fears.
What we inflict on our design which keeps us from the precipice of perfection.
[The strange hand stays up, but curves around, palm up. The purple lines thrum, a ripple of glow rolls down through the colored flesh. He does not smile exactly; it's an enigmatic partial upturn of his lips.]
It doesn't hurt. [Just for the record.] Have you participated in something like this before...?
[ "the order of becoming one" needs a moment to sink in as he looks at his hand for a beat longer before he reaches just a bit as though to touch his fingertips. eiden is too easy a read, more curious than concerned, used to the way this place ebbs and flows with guests of all kinds.
[Without hesitation, Viktor bridges the gap between their fingers without a second thought, brushing the tips of his along the underside of Eiden's. Curious and forward.
The eerie fingers are somewhat chilly to the touch; the flesh feels a bit bizarre with the rivulets in the skin. Even stranger, something primordial zips hungrily up through Eiden's hand. There's no pain; the sensation is without ethics and feels neither evil nor good.
It pulls with strong interest at Eiden's pit, if only for a second, and then it's gone. It feels like the most base, archaic form of magic. It leaves behind its footprints on Eiden's skin: ovals of cool, pearlescent stains on Eiden's fingers where Viktor had touched. They linger, but slowly begin to fade.]
I have not, but... I have been privy to many such thoughts and desires from those in the commune before.
[ When Viktor finally wraps up his annoyingly long stretch of beauty sleep, he's met with a creature no less out of the ordinary than himself. Reclining comfortably on his side as if the space belongs to him, something composed of more animal than man sprawls upon several plush seats nearby. Several of the many items meant to deck out the automotive's roomy interior in suspiciously cozy decor have been collected around the demon, from a few pillows to a knitted throw he's kicked off at some point. With how well-kempt he appears, there's little doubt he's not been rudely snoozing the day away, unlike a certain someone he's been trapped with. Which, for better or worse, suggests J has been quietly lying in wait for his companion to wake. Now that his company has decided to join him, though, their encounter kicks off in the least likely way. Meaning, wholly without incident.
Really, Viktor? Is a Hello how you usually approach a potential kidnapping situation when faced with the most likely suspect? ]
My, you're taking all of this with a peculiar level of stride. [ As J's attention lazily shifts away from paging through a well-worn magazine found in some corner of the car, there's a hint of intrigue that flickers across a trio of eyes. The unnatural third, set apart from its brethren in color and location, seems to rake across Viktor's features more insistently than the rest—searching for something deeper beneath the surface, beyond his companion's succinct introduction. ]
Here I was half expecting to be pelted with the whole "Where am I? Who are you?" interrogatory spiel. [ There's a lift of one hand as J gestures with a few turns of his wrist, indicating something rolling on in an obnoxious continuum. ]
You know, that thing people normally do after waking up somewhere unexpected with a stranger.
[Something about the appraisal is unnerving, even if it does not dredge up the same sort of anxiety he would have maybe once had. He does not meet the triple gaze at first; instead, keeping his flecked eyes low under his lids, sweeping them back and forth over the interior of a vehicle he has never seen.
The maladapted arcane within him unfurls oddly in response, interested in whatever dark anomaly it's found in the person nearby.
His eyes finally lift. J's form does not bother, or surprise him. There were plenty of people - his people? - in Zaun who were shaped in similar fashion.]
It's strange, [He has a peculiar, if endearing, accent.] this isn't the commune, but... I would find the answers sooner or later.
[He pushes himself completely upright, sliding his legs off the seat to hang them over the edge. His indigo hands feel the material of what he's sitting on, of what's around him; it's hard to tell if he's trying to figure out if this is real, or if he has simply not seen something like it.]
How long have you been here?
[He's was apparently sleeping, and J does not give him the vibes of someone else sleeping and waking up, confused, and that's a little creepy, honestly.]
If by here, do you mean trapped in a glorified chrome cage while Sleeping Beauty snores away?
[ While much of the fault for relocating him to the car's interior belongs to The House, that doesn't prevent J from laying some blame for his current predicament at Viktor's feet. The reason for which his companion may soon figure out if an attempt is made to exit any of the doors that, shockingly, refuse to unlock. Apparently, the car has its own ideas about making these two stay put, nice and cozy-like, until they become far better acquainted. That's not the irritating part. It is basically a given in this place that people need to canoodle at least a bit, but that's rather difficult to manage when the other party is out like a light! ]
Long enough to read this cover to cover. [ The item in question is held up to what passes for the lighting situation in the dimmed car's interior, revealing one of the many forms of entertainment The House has self-published. The illustrated figures on the front maintain a level of nudity that is barely tasteful and gives an idea of what lurks between the pages. ] Twice. For a dirty magazine, it was surprisingly wordy.
Or were you referring to the place actually hosting this backseat rendezvous? [ He could dole out a number of months or years, but J is too keenly aware of the value of such information and how useful it can be when traded for something he wants.
Opting for a different track, the demon abandons his reading material and gathers up the plush blanket as he moves to his feet. Even with how spacious it is, the car's interior isn't built for creatures towering more than seven feet tall. So when he crosses the distance to approach his scantily-clad companion, the act should be at best ungainly if not downright awkward. Strangely enough, the cramped space never poses an issue as he prowls closer on silent paw pads that barely make a sound.
Once J's near enough to see what sort of skin he intends to cover up, it's not merely his third eye that decides to slide over the expanse of flesh purpled and shrunken against the musculature beneath. When his gaze should reflect horror, or at best, empathy, instead there's only a glint of intrigue. ]
Here. [ With little fanfare, the demon moves to guide the blanket around Viktor's shoulders, so that it might swallow the skeletal frame in its clutches and supply a semblance of dignity The House had stripped away. ] You may feel toasty right now, but I can promise you that won't be the case once you've stepped outside.
[ For the wellbeing of the luxury fleet stashed there, the parking garage is kept continuously cool by the same enigmatic machinery that runs the fictitious weather that rules the Vale and keeps the resort's interior a perfect temperature in every season. ]
[No apology emerges for sleeping so soundly away; that he couldn't help. He accepts the blame because he already has so much blame to take.
His eyes drift to the magazine J showcases for him. He does not believe in heaven, but even so, this is not a paradise, he decides. But had his own paradise not had shards of lust and love amidst the conglomerate of endless thoughts? Where is the line between debauchery and loving intimacy? Love should be pure, shouldn't it? Pure and as simple as possible. Unconditional.]
Both.
[It didn't matter what answer J gave him, neither would clarify much of where he had found himself.
Truly, if it hadn't been for the usual Zaunite, or even a mutated former man, Viktor would have been more shocked once J stood up inside the car. There isn't any way to describe it except hulking, and even without seeing J at full stature, he knows this bastard is tall. That's okay. The size doesn't scare him actually.
They accept anyone into their grace no matter physicality.
What surprises him more maybe, or deceives him more, is the extension of kindness. He tries to slot J into an area of compassion unfitting of the distant aura in which the manufactured arcane in him is reacting. Something like uncanny valley. It isn't right.
His long fingers capped in gold metal pull the edge of the blanket around his shoulders. There is a wide, gnarled spot across his upper chest, darker than the rest of the indigo, some crude version of crater turned scar that's now easier to see in better detail up close. The purple, iridescent lines embedded in his flesh all over pulse every so often, faintly, filled with an enigmatic power maybe familiar to J. Something neither good nor evil, but divine nonetheless.]
Thank you.
[But talking of outside makes his head turn, and he peers out the heavily tinted windows to what might exist outside. He's not sure what he expects to see - a recognizable, churning void smattered with nebulae and stars; a rolling plane of golden sunshine, and green grass, and cloudy sky; a treacherous mountain of clay, and brimstone, and fire. Absolutely nothing. The absence of everything, people, light, sound.
Instead, it's a concrete jungle interwoven with many other vehicles like the one he's trapped in with J, and that confuses him more.]
So you've been here long enough to know what it's like outside.
[His head slowly turns back to J, his eyes lifting to search J's face.]
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peacockstop2025-01-15 09:00 pm
(jesus) viktor | arcane
II. Dirty Dice
III. 1 or 11
IV. House of Cards
Wildcard
beep beep
but yes, viktor does have a fun little buddy in the car with him, sprawled and lounging like he owns the place. unlike poor viktor, this man has his full set of genitalia, made apparently obvious by how little he wears. (spoilers: it's fucking nothing.) he leans forward at the greeting, lazy smile curving across his face. ]
Oh? You're finally aroused.
[ did he really have to say it like that tho ]
no subject
There is a lot to take in here (girth), but his blue and gold eyes don't stray.
why did he say it that way.....]
Do you...
[But the Watch goes off, and he glances down at it briefly. Ah! Ah... This doesn't really explain much, but okay. He looks back up. This
man doesn't have shit on...]
Do you want this robe?
no subject
but you know, it's very sweet of viktor to worry about his modesty. it's really just a shame belial doesn't have any left. ]
Feeling too warm? Or is it that you're looking to bare yourself before me already?
[ though apparently the mention of 'warm' seems to have triggered something in the deepest part of this car's psyche, because the aircon immediately turns on and starts blasting. does viktor still feel the cold, anna. ]
no subject
[😬
The cold is not the same for him, but he does feel the pressure of the blast. It swooshes his hair forward into his face before he turns to glance at the vents.
He's stuck with a demon and a ghost apparently.]
No, I thought you may need to get warm.
[The AC switches deftly to heat to blast them both with hot vibes, and it makes him look again at the vents.]
There's definitely a malfunction.
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III.
In further contrast to his looks, Concord's voice is very soft spoken and twangy, if sternly spoken.]
Concord. [Viktor asked to know him and Concord takes that to be some kind of a greeting, so he very plainly offers his name before asking in turn,]
And you, sir?
no subject
His hand remains in the air, almost like a beckon to come forward without the curling fingers. It doesn't appear to bother him that he is the smaller one here.]
Viktor. I won't hurt you.
[Dominant or not, he doesn't have any intentions to be truly mean here.]
Come here.
no subject
I don't think you could.
[for, like, a few reasons. He's not entirely a brat beyond the words. He's a military type, he can follow orders when given, so Concord will approach to be within reach.]
no subject
[This man is much too tall when he is finally approached, so his hand settles on Concord's chest rather than where he initially planned to put it.
He presses down, more guiding than aggressive.] Kneel. [The command is not offered belligerently.]
I will learn your mind to know even the self you keep hidden. Will you allow this?
[Asking as a nice dom instead of diving straight into hiveminding him for a few minutes.]
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44444444
Favorite ice cream flavor?
Easy squeezy for the first round. He foregoes a greeting, getting straight to it: ]
I don't have one. [ A lame answer, but a true one, given that he isn't immediately penalized. He glances up finally to his 'opponent.' ] Original rules make for a slow game. Why don't we raise the stakes a little, and both answer every card?
[ Not a bad deal, considering this first card of his is a gimme. ]
no subject
His eyes unabashedly follow the crutch as Nehan sits with him and tucks it away. It's terribly familiar; he finds his hand longing for a now twisted version of something like it, one that's currently missing. To get the antsy energy out of his hand, he idly rubs his thumb back and forth along the underside of his fingers.]
If you'd like.
[The solution to the game is to not knock the house of cards down, so he doesn't think he'll necessarily lose anything by answering questions - except, perhaps, information about himself. What does he have to hide when his mind has been linked with countless people anyway?]
Vanilla.
[This is apparently a truthful answer. He likes the sweet milk..........
After a moment of consideration, he reaches out to carefully remove one of the cards. And when he's sure not even his breath will make it wobble, he flips the card.]
"Where would you be if you hadn't followed your dream?"
no subject
He's not a man for pleasantries. Or whimsy, apparently, given the light little sigh he lets out. ]
Launching straight into the esoteric...
[ He doesn't see what the hotel gains from them waxing philosophical around a gambling table, but maybe it's just their idea of a hard question. He looks over the card, turning an answer over in his mind before he offers it. ]
The same place. [ His fate is a set course. Any "choices" are just branching off into predetermined pathways. ] But I've never been much for dreaming, anyway.
[ His watch doesn't go off. As well as he knows, this is the truth. ]
Your turn to answer, stranger.
no subject
His brows furrow. He is not trying to dodge any answers, but he is curious. A natural way to be for him. Maybe a bit more curious about Nehan in particular. Similarities.]
What place exactly?
[He doesn't try to encourage Nehan to go for another card because he knows he has to have his own turn before that happens.]
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ii.
his game partner is a curious one—hands warped with indigo and gold, the same pattern scaling the steep planes of his face. but perhaps what catches jing yuan's attention most is viktor's repose, like a stone set in the middle of a pond under rain. it is... perhaps not necessarily out of place (no more or less than any of them are), but certainly unusual given the nature of their surroundings.
jing yuan seats himself across from him and inclines his head in greeting. ]
If you'll allow me the honor. Though before we begin, would you prefer to play with or without introductions?
[ he doesn't mind either way, though he would understand if some players would prefer a more clinical approach.
whichever they decide on, he's gonna roll a 6. slap + 4. ass, yaaaay. i'm making all of these dumb. jing yuan blinks slowly at the dice, then looks up at viktor with an expression more suitable for a round of poker. ]
Well, then.
[ a spanking is fairly tame...... all things considered...... ]
no subject
If they are beginning already with a slapped ass, they may as well be introduced.]
My name is Viktor.
[His eyes sweep over Jing Yuan for a brief moment, an appraisal without any kind of judgment behind it. Just looking at the person who has sat with him for a game.]
Do you want to go forward with these results?
[Are you going to slap his ass?]
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Viktor. [ he nods. ] Please call me Jing Yuan.
[ his gaze flicks down briefly as he considers the probabilities of the dice, their alternative options. he then nods again. ]
I'd like to proceed. [ asking for permission isn't part of the game, but he still finds it prudent to add, ] I don't intend to use more force than necessary.
[ he offers a quiet smile. he is going to slap his ass! respectfully. ]
no subject
Viktor nods, both to the name and the go ahead. It's funny Jing Yuan is trying to reassure him about the force. He thinks about how difficult it would have been with how he was before. With the body he had before.
Slowly, he rises from where he is sitting.]
These games in particular seem a little silly considering what they want us to do.
3 / HELLO?!? DA VIKKY?!?
apparently that something is new comers. so it doesn't surprise him when he steps inside and sees someone he doesn't know—approaching curiously. ]
... Do I get to know you back?
[ the low undercurrent of his essence flickers a little bit—the nature of this place always makes it twitch like a living thing under his skin, sweet and buzzing. ]
DA VIKKY!!
What we inflict on our design which keeps us from the precipice of perfection.
[The strange hand stays up, but curves around, palm up. The purple lines thrum, a ripple of glow rolls down through the colored flesh. He does not smile exactly; it's an enigmatic partial upturn of his lips.]
It doesn't hurt. [Just for the record.] Have you participated in something like this before...?
no subject
Then I'll trust you on that.
[ "the order of becoming one" needs a moment to sink in as he looks at his hand for a beat longer before he reaches just a bit as though to touch his fingertips. eiden is too easy a read, more curious than concerned, used to the way this place ebbs and flows with guests of all kinds.
a hum as he tips his head, studies the other. ]
The House's weird games like this? Plenty...
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[Without hesitation, Viktor bridges the gap between their fingers without a second thought, brushing the tips of his along the underside of Eiden's. Curious and forward.
The eerie fingers are somewhat chilly to the touch; the flesh feels a bit bizarre with the rivulets in the skin. Even stranger, something primordial zips hungrily up through Eiden's hand. There's no pain; the sensation is without ethics and feels neither evil nor good.
It pulls with strong interest at Eiden's pit, if only for a second, and then it's gone. It feels like the most base, archaic form of magic. It leaves behind its footprints on Eiden's skin: ovals of cool, pearlescent stains on Eiden's fingers where Viktor had touched. They linger, but slowly begin to fade.]
I have not, but... I have been privy to many such thoughts and desires from those in the commune before.
(no subject)
I.
Really, Viktor? Is a Hello how you usually approach a potential kidnapping situation when faced with the most likely suspect? ]
My, you're taking all of this with a peculiar level of stride. [ As J's attention lazily shifts away from paging through a well-worn magazine found in some corner of the car, there's a hint of intrigue that flickers across a trio of eyes. The unnatural third, set apart from its brethren in color and location, seems to rake across Viktor's features more insistently than the rest—searching for something deeper beneath the surface, beyond his companion's succinct introduction. ]
Here I was half expecting to be pelted with the whole "Where am I? Who are you?" interrogatory spiel. [ There's a lift of one hand as J gestures with a few turns of his wrist, indicating something rolling on in an obnoxious continuum. ]
You know, that thing people normally do after waking up somewhere unexpected with a stranger.
no subject
The maladapted arcane within him unfurls oddly in response, interested in whatever dark anomaly it's found in the person nearby.
His eyes finally lift. J's form does not bother, or surprise him. There were plenty of people - his people? - in Zaun who were shaped in similar fashion.]
It's strange, [He has a peculiar, if endearing, accent.] this isn't the commune, but... I would find the answers sooner or later.
[He pushes himself completely upright, sliding his legs off the seat to hang them over the edge. His indigo hands feel the material of what he's sitting on, of what's around him; it's hard to tell if he's trying to figure out if this is real, or if he has simply not seen something like it.]
How long have you been here?
[He's was apparently sleeping, and J does not give him the vibes of someone else sleeping and waking up, confused, and that's a little creepy, honestly.]
no subject
[ While much of the fault for relocating him to the car's interior belongs to The House, that doesn't prevent J from laying some blame for his current predicament at Viktor's feet. The reason for which his companion may soon figure out if an attempt is made to exit any of the doors that, shockingly, refuse to unlock. Apparently, the car has its own ideas about making these two stay put, nice and cozy-like, until they become far better acquainted. That's not the irritating part. It is basically a given in this place that people need to canoodle at least a bit, but that's rather difficult to manage when the other party is out like a light! ]
Long enough to read this cover to cover. [ The item in question is held up to what passes for the lighting situation in the dimmed car's interior, revealing one of the many forms of entertainment The House has self-published. The illustrated figures on the front maintain a level of nudity that is barely tasteful and gives an idea of what lurks between the pages. ] Twice. For a dirty magazine, it was surprisingly wordy.
Or were you referring to the place actually hosting this backseat rendezvous? [ He could dole out a number of months or years, but J is too keenly aware of the value of such information and how useful it can be when traded for something he wants.
Opting for a different track, the demon abandons his reading material and gathers up the plush blanket as he moves to his feet. Even with how spacious it is, the car's interior isn't built for creatures towering more than seven feet tall. So when he crosses the distance to approach his scantily-clad companion, the act should be at best ungainly if not downright awkward. Strangely enough, the cramped space never poses an issue as he prowls closer on silent paw pads that barely make a sound.
Once J's near enough to see what sort of skin he intends to cover up, it's not merely his third eye that decides to slide over the expanse of flesh purpled and shrunken against the musculature beneath. When his gaze should reflect horror, or at best, empathy, instead there's only a glint of intrigue. ]
Here. [ With little fanfare, the demon moves to guide the blanket around Viktor's shoulders, so that it might swallow the skeletal frame in its clutches and supply a semblance of dignity The House had stripped away. ] You may feel toasty right now, but I can promise you that won't be the case once you've stepped outside.
[ For the wellbeing of the luxury fleet stashed there, the parking garage is kept continuously cool by the same enigmatic machinery that runs the fictitious weather that rules the Vale and keeps the resort's interior a perfect temperature in every season. ]
no subject
[No apology emerges for sleeping so soundly away; that he couldn't help. He accepts the blame because he already has so much blame to take.
His eyes drift to the magazine J showcases for him. He does not believe in heaven, but even so, this is not a paradise, he decides. But had his own paradise not had shards of lust and love amidst the conglomerate of endless thoughts? Where is the line between debauchery and loving intimacy? Love should be pure, shouldn't it? Pure and as simple as possible. Unconditional.]
Both.
[It didn't matter what answer J gave him, neither would clarify much of where he had found himself.
Truly, if it hadn't been for the usual Zaunite, or even a mutated former man, Viktor would have been more shocked once J stood up inside the car. There isn't any way to describe it except hulking, and even without seeing J at full stature, he knows this bastard is tall. That's okay. The size doesn't scare him actually.
They accept anyone into their grace no matter physicality.
What surprises him more maybe, or deceives him more, is the extension of kindness. He tries to slot J into an area of compassion unfitting of the distant aura in which the manufactured arcane in him is reacting. Something like uncanny valley. It isn't right.
His long fingers capped in gold metal pull the edge of the blanket around his shoulders. There is a wide, gnarled spot across his upper chest, darker than the rest of the indigo, some crude version of crater turned scar that's now easier to see in better detail up close. The purple, iridescent lines embedded in his flesh all over pulse every so often, faintly, filled with an enigmatic power maybe familiar to J. Something neither good nor evil, but divine nonetheless.]
Thank you.
[But talking of outside makes his head turn, and he peers out the heavily tinted windows to what might exist outside. He's not sure what he expects to see - a recognizable, churning void smattered with nebulae and stars; a rolling plane of golden sunshine, and green grass, and cloudy sky; a treacherous mountain of clay, and brimstone, and fire. Absolutely nothing. The absence of everything, people, light, sound.
Instead, it's a concrete jungle interwoven with many other vehicles like the one he's trapped in with J, and that confuses him more.]
So you've been here long enough to know what it's like outside.
[His head slowly turns back to J, his eyes lifting to search J's face.]