【 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.
( getting dressed up is a waste of time. it's not like it matters what he looks like, or what they put him in: the scars are always going to be obvious, the staples are always going to be obvious, and very little is going to offset the color of mangled, charred skin--and that's what he's said, patiently, and a little impatiently, to the staff at the door of the party. naturally, he'd been dragged out of line for being underdressed: which leaves him here, at the mercy of staff trying to decide which color tie will look best on him, running back and forth. the last one they pulled had been a pale lavendar--and he'd immediately declined.
for now, at least, he's got on a pair of slacks, nice shoes, and a white shirt that he's stubbornly unbuttoned around the collar to keep it loose--that's part of the issue, too, that every time the staff returns with another tie, they neatly, and gently, do up the buttons again.
the voice at his side draws his attention, but it's just the narrowed glance down towards the girl: just in her underwear, which makes him scoff a breath. )
Why don't we just burn it off and call it good? ( with a glint of a smile that doesn't meet his eyes--his hands are working, once again, to undo the buttons of his shirt collar. )
Or just go in your underwear. Bet you'd get all the attention you want. ( another ghost of a smile. ) Gonna be undressed probably more than you'll be in full dress, with this kinda party. Wanna make a break for it?
( honestly, at this point, the idea of picking her up and hauling ass past the staff, right into the party, is far more favorable than waiting for the 85th color tie to be 'not quite right on his complexion'. )
[ Whether he means that offer legitimately or not, she replies with her usual brand of blunt pragmatism. ]
A trip to the burn ward isn't my idea of a good time, believe it or not.
[ Her gaze slides over him from head to toe - nice suit by the way - taking in this kindred spirit's unique sense of style with muted curiosity. Are those staples she's seeing? Huh... very punk rock of him. That goes some way towards explaining where his suggestion stems from. Mayou meets Dabi's sharp-edged smile with the same lazy sidelong look, allowing the attendant at her side to yank more clothes over her head without much change in expression - still stubbornly planted in 'family cat getting put in gag outfits' territory. Truly the most relatable of vibes.
Oh look, another dud dress. Shocking. Off it goes.
As for his bright idea... ]
I might. [ Her eyes narrow - less lazy now, sharper, caught somewhere between speculative and actively scrutinizing. It won't do her any good if he's promising something he can't deliver. ] Are you offering to run distraction duty or just spitting hypotheticals here?
[ It'd be all kinds of disappointing to get scruffed at the door and marched right back to square one. Nothing personal. ]
( it's said with a scoff, as though that's a paltry offer--but he's interrupted by the staff again, where this time, a red tie is tentatively held towards him, and despite his better judgment, despite knowing how to keep a tight leash on his temper, he immediately offers a stiff shake of his head and a flare of his irritated gaze. )
No red. ( it's said between his teeth to the poor guy, who immediately bows in apology. ) Don't come back with red again.
( it's too much like him--his jaw locks for a moment, fingers flexing in at his sides, but rather than lash out, he simply lifts his arms, folding them in loose against his chest as the staff disappears again in search of something else.
well, it would be easy enough. the girl probably weighs less than the little lunatic back home, and he's hauled around taller people, heavier people here; with his quirk there to end any hope of pursuit, they could get into the party and disappear somewhere into the crowd. )
...I pick you up, we run, you hang on and don't get in my way. ( he says it quietly, conversationally, as the staff hold up another dress towards her, and then seem to think better of it, skittering away again like it's not quite right. his arms drop, casual--but one of his hands stretches out, a half-damaged open palm towards her. ) C'mere.
[ Whatever's going on with his interesting little tie reaction, she ultimately doesn't deign comment on it. That's a concern for later; when Mayou isn't actively relying on this odd stranger for her single viable escape route and there's quiet surroundings to properly decompress from the day's events. (Why red? Does it matter? Probably not.) The lack of immediate temper does tilt the scales in his favor, though, so that's a silver lining at least!
Still, Mayou doesn't move towards him right away quite yet. Too busy weighing her options, eyes flicking from the attendant rifling through the dress rack to Dabi and back again, considering the outcomes. Option one: getting dropped in the middle of a party practically naked is going to suck an enormous amount of balls. Option two: being stuck here in changing room purgatory is arguably worse. Looks like taking a gamble is the lesser evil today. ]
Don't carry me in some weird position and I won't be in the way in the first place. [ Should she be offended? She feels like she should be offended. Oh ye of little faith. ] Well, whatever. You're the boss.
[ Mayou crosses the empty space between them - absently noting the scar tissue pressed against her palm as she sets her hand in his. Time to skedaddle before the staff catch on. ]
( there's a faint roll of his eyes, and it's pointed that he doesn't agree--doesn't say anything, really, except to close her hand in his just for a moment; it's just so that he can tug her closer, maneuver her in front of him so that he can bend at the knees, bracing one arm under her ass, and the other arm around the backs of her legs. she said don't carry me in some weird position which means he's carrying her like a sack of potatoes, instead--he lifts, straightening, and drapes her stomach over his shoulder, letting her top half dangle down his back. once there's enough balance there--
well, then it's just one arm, braced around the backs of her thighs, his other hand jerked out in front of them to clear the way. )
Comin' through. ( he says, loudly--there are at least a few staff members who try to stop him, but all it takes is a small snap of his fingers to light up one of those pretty chiffon dresses, blue flames that lick and spit at the hems, clamoring hungrily up the material. with even just a small fire to contend with, there's enough chaos--and distance--that he can keep moving forward, his steps light, not quite a jog but something quicker than walking.
an elbow gets him through the double doors at the back, and then they're in the party: the sudden burst of sound, music and chattering and drink glasses and cards and chips, is almost as bad as all the lights, wincing slightly as he turns, moves forward, tries to put some distance between them and the door behind them.
with a little shrug of his shoulder, jostling her playfully: )
You want me to put you down here, princess? ( a soft snicker of breath. ) Bet we could find you a jacket or something, at least.
( especially if they head towards some of the casino tables--plenty of drunk people, unawares. )
[ Well. This isn't really what she'd call elegant, but it'll do.
Mayou is perfectly content to let him do all the hard work while she watches the world go by, not offering resistance as she's tossed over his shoulder, bar some minor adjusting at the start of their little field trip so she can prop herself up on an elbow braced against his upper back. From potato sack to pampered housecat... still counts as an upgrade where her pride is concerned. Is she petty enough to give the staff behind them a passive-aggressive little wiggle of her fingers in farewell once they notice? Yes. Is the startling burst of blue flame going to command 100% of her attention? Very yes.
Mostly because she herself has never seen naturally occurring fire that color or ferocity before. A tiny voice in her head - the one responsible for all her bad decisions - loudly and shrilly insists she needs to figure out how to replicate it immediately. (pls bring a fruit basket to her funeral pls and ty.) ]
Hmm? [ Oh. Are they inside already? That was fast. ] Here's as good as there, I suppose. There's bound to be tablecloths ripe for the taking somewhere in the building.
[ She doesn't make any move to make him put her down though - resting her chin in the hand propped up against his back, surveying the casino interior without much concern for her state of undress or her trusty(????) steed. First thing's first... ]
( it's said in a breath of a laugh, a slight wheeze, exaggerated, as he bends at the middle, lurching forward so that he can slide her feet down to the floor. his hands steady there for a moment on her hips, making sure that she isn't going to topple one way or the other before he straightens up again.
there, a small narrowing of his eyes down at her-- )
And you didn't say yours either, princess. What is it?
( it seems to dawn on him, in that moment, how terribly underdresssed she is; he still doesn't think it's really a problem, given the depravity of this place in general, but it also doesn't quite feel right to slap her on the ass and send her on her way. given the kind of people in this place, himself included, that might just be setting her up for disaster.
why does his stupid morality compass have to point in the right directions every once in awhile? pain in the ass, honestly. )
We're not gonna put you in a fucking tablecloth. That's not sexy.
( there's a very dry roll of his eyes, as though that's the real problem. )
[ If she sounds distracted, it's because she is, however briefly.
There's an overload of bodies and noise to process. Muggy body heat and cheap perfume, the low hum of many voices and the cheerful, distant chime of toasting glasses; glitz and glam and the electric energy of a night on the town. Her nose crinkles a bit in reflexive disgust at the idea of walking barefoot over the plush carpet no doubt getting stickier by the minute with spilled liquor.
She's not nervous, exactly, but a degree of wariness settles deep into her marrow like an old and familiar friend all the same. ]
Yes? And? I don't know if you noticed, but my options are a bit limited right now.
[ Her eyes finally return to him – an archly expectant look that dips meaningfully down to his stylish suit and back up again, trusting the silent subtext to make her point. The nerve of this guy, nixing her genius potato sack princess plan right to her face over sexiness of all things!
Oh! That reminds her: ]
If you're going to get all snooty over tablecloth togas not meeting dress code, the least you can do is introduce yourself.
( there's another pointed roll of his eyes, but he leaves it at that. he can't keep avoiding the question--well, that's not fully true, but he gets the feeling this will work easier if he just gets this part over with. )
Dabi. ( that's all she's getting, for now. ) And your options aren't that limited.
( it would be easy to swipe a suit jacket off a chair, but that would only temporarily solve the problem--the other thought he has makes his lips twitch, a hint of a smile that he tries to tamper down.
how adventurous is this girl? adventurous enough to let a stranger kidnap her and dump her in the middle of some wild party, which might mean-- )
Bet we can find someone who isn't using their clothes right now. ( a soft snort of breath. ) Bet we can find lots of someones.
You wanna go scope out some of the private rooms with me? ( there's a bend of his arm, a jerk of his thumb behind them--if he knows anything about a golden peacock party, it's that there's going to be plenty of quiet places to have sex. and if people are having sex, then they'll be leaving clothes everywhere, so: it'll at least be more interactive than letting the staff pick out puffy dress after puffy dress. ) Five finger discount, you know how it goes.
[ What! Stealing?! Her? Does she look like the type to stoop to thievery to him?
There's a long, uncomfortable silence as Mayou's expression stills. Maybe she takes the insinuation as an insult? Or maybe there's something else going on – as unreadable as her face might be, there's some pieces being shuffled around in her head as she looks up at him, as if she's adjusting what she knows about Dabi by a few subtle degrees. ]
You're a bad influence.
[ That's not accusatory. Mildly exasperated, yes, but there's a tinge of a smile in there as she turns her head away from Dabi to survey the milling guests. ]
...yeah, alright, why not. It's every girl for themselves out here.
[ A terrible influence. Truly. For her very best efforts to maintain the aloof ice queen facade, the carefully suppressed wild child in her can't help but pounce on the first little morsel of harmless mischief that gets dangled under her nose. God dammit. ]
( that measuring look she's giving him gets met with the lift of his brows, like he isn't surprised--but the words make him puff out a laugh despite himself, lips curling. )
Oh, I'm a bad influence.
( he repeats it solemnly--a little sarcastically, as though he can't possibly believe it. out of all the things that he's been called, honestly, being labeled a 'bad influence' is paltry at best, almost cute in a way. and maybe it's a little nice, not to be immediately discarded--but he's not going to think on that too hard.
instead, since she seems keen to agree despite his bad behavior, he lets his hands slip down into the pockets of his slacks. )
This way, then. They're gonna have a shitton of rooms back here somewhere.
( though he's leaving her to follow him, as he elbows through the crowds, he does at least spare a few glances behind him--as though to assure that she's still there, that she hasn't been grabbed at by the greedy hands of drunk partygoers; once they've made it through the thick of the party, now on the outskirts, he trains his eyes forward, curving away from one hallway to the next. there's a rowdy, drunk couple that's laughing and bumping their way down along the closed doors, so he hangs back at the hallway intersection there, tilting his head quietly.
a little lift a brow towards mayou, murmuring under his breath. )
You like her dress? ( it's a pretty thing, short and glittery, and maybe it's drawn his attention more than his underwear-clad friend, but that's fine. ) Or should we keep looking?
( plenty of other rooms to explore, it's just that this one's an easy target, given how drunk they are--and the fact that they can see the door they struggle to get open, flinging it wide finally with a bark of laughter before tumbling past the doorway. )
[ It's a little ridiculous how much she has to bob and weave through the crowd to dodge partygoers and patches of spilled drinks on the carpet alike. She's never wanted to sprout 'go away, don't perceive me' hedgehog quills quite as much as she does once they come out the other end of the mob; at least up until Mayou's peevish internal dialogue is promptly diverted by Dabi's voice. Leaning out a bit so she can see around him - and maybe getting a handful of his shirt so she doesn't fall over in the process - she fully expects similar tawdry fashion to the offerings on the racks outside. ]
That is a cute dress. [ She mutters (mostly to herself), rocking up on the ball of her foot to lean out a little more, poking her whole head out of cover once the coast is clear. What the hell!!!!! Where were her cute dress options outside, huh?! Talk about bullshit. ] Bit loose around the middle –– accessorize with a belt, maybe? A sash would be nice.
[ Seeing as there's nobody else coming down the hallway, Mayou quits wrinkling up his shirt in her fingers once she elects to slink further down the hall, flattening herself against the wall to cautiously peek inside... and promptly regrets it. She did NOT need to see two people getting handsy like that.
Still, Dabi gets the nod and thumbs up of approval. Yup, that'll do nicely. Question is, how are they supposed to grab a whole-ass dress on the sly? ]
( the hand that she clenches into his shirt gets a sour look, but it's the fact that she's apparently already accessorizing the damn thing that makes him scoff, dropping a hand onto her head. )
What are you, some fashion model? --Hey.
( a hiss of breath, given that she's already pushing past him to slink further down the hall; what happened to him being the bad influence? he pads after her, pressing one damaged hand to the wall so that he can tilt his head past the frame--the couple's already wrapped around each other, engrossed in their kissing, and he peels back, away from the open door, flattening to the wall to consider.
he's trying hard to smile when he looks back down at her--and gives her a pointed nod. )
You're small. Get in there and stick low to the ground. That dress'll come off in like four minutes, tops.
( given the way the guy is getting handsy, they might have to wait even less time--and his grin is a little mischievous, bemused. )
[ Oh sure, now her size comes in handy! Still, a pale girl in undies is... less than inconspicuous, and she's not terribly enthusiastic about actually going in the room if she can avoid it. ]
Devious. Nobody could've seen that coming.
[ Oops. Seems like her default setting is 'phlegmatic' with very little deviation. Hiding behind a stupid potted plant for a dress of all things is going to be a memory seared into her brain to torture her at 3AM for the rest of her life, isn't it? Maybe going for a tacky tablecloth is the better idea after all. Her decision is made for her once the couple inside shift places, giving her the window of opportunity to skulk her way inside and hide behind a decorative pillar just barely wide enough to cover her if she stands sideways. Still not quite close enough though - clothes start coming off and there's nowhere else Mayou can go from here, not even back the way she came.
Fine. She didn't want to have to do this, but if it can't be helped...
A whispered word and a crooked finger - hey you, come here - like calling over a relative of a relative of a good friend, weaving a thin, tenuous string of magic as fragile as spider silk. A fisherman's line of formless yearning, temporarily harnessed for her use: "remember the good old days when you were a river?" The pretty dress hits the floor and Mayou makes a tugging motion with her thumb and forefinger as if holding an invisible needle and thread. Impossibly, the melted water within the bucket surges up and over the rim, tipping the whole thing over in a noisy cascade of water, ice, and a half empty bottle of champagne that shatters on the glossy tile so loudly even the drunkest pair of paramours would have to notice.
A fine distraction to scoop up her prize and skedaddle back out the door, no? Mayou's already busily pulling the dress down over her head by the time she's halfway through the doorway. ]
( despite her obvious distaste, mayou's through the doorway before he can give her the push--and true to his word, for once, he slinks around the doorframe, crouching down so that he can tilt his head at the edge and peer inside in case she needs the help. the column that she's chosen to hide behind doesn't fully block her from view; lucky for her, the couple are too obsessed with each other to really care, and there's a practiced roll of his eyes at the sound of the guy on the bed, attempting some piss poor version of sweet talk to get the girl to settle in on top of him. guess not everyone in this resort is as charming as some of the people he's seen.
it's the odd movement that draws his gaze--magic is one thing that he still doesn't fully understand, despite the interactions he's had with people like esikko, or rin, who speak of it like it's just another fact of life; his first instinct is to think it must be some kind of quirk, the way that the bucket moves, slides, as though the weight inside of it shifts. he can tell the unfortunate movement is going to cause precisely what it does--but he's got no way to stop it from happening.
the ice clatters on the floor, the water splashes out around it, accented by the shattering of the champagne bottle--with a curse, he's up onto his feet again, and when mayou comes running through the doorway, he's reaching out a hand to grab her arm and swing her behind him into the hallway, just to give her more clearance.
affronted, the woman lifts her head from the bed--and squeals at the sight of him standing there, but she's too busy covering up her chest and screeching at her partner to do something that dabi has the time to swing in for the door and pull it shut. with that, he's twisting and moving down the hallway behind mayou, calling out ahead of himself to her-- )
Get inside another room. That one. Shut the door. ( better if they hide out, rather than keep running--just in case. besides, mayou's hair is a mess now, tugging that dress on over her head; it would make them obvious targets, which is why he's pushing a palm at her back to hurry her into the room he indicated. he's just hoping it's empty. )
[ Definitely not the best thing she's ever done for her dignity!!!! Skittering out of some smoky sex room like a scalded cat is not something she ever wants to have to repeat. Ever. Ever ever.
She's shunted through the door of their new temporary hideout (thankfully empty) with a reproachful little 'hey!', barely catching herself with the single arm she's managed to get properly situated in the stolen dress instead of ricocheting off of the furniture. Two seconds later and said door slams shut behind them, leaving Mayou looking remarkably like she just lost a fight with a dryer on high heat, blinking owlishly at Dabi with some lingering disorientation from getting slung around so much in such a short span of time.
One more arm through this finicky strap and --- mission accomplished! One new dress and a minor case of petty theft to add to her resume. Be cute, do crimes. Totally legit. ]
...that went better than expected. Huh. [ Oh, the silver lining of being a pessimist. She's either right, or pleasantly surprised. ] Thanks for the save, by the way.
[ Don't let the languid tone fool you - her heart's still pounding rabbit-quick in her chest no matter how hard she's trying to play it cool. Thank fuck he was there to act as the safety net. ]
( there's a flagrant roll of his eyes, but it's mostly in jest--he's leaning his back against the door, both hands sliding down to hook into his pockets; he just wants to leave his weight there for a moment, in case they're pursued. with a tilt of his head, he listens for any sound of a scuffle outside the door, but he can't really hear anything that belies a threat.
with a slow breath in through his nose, and then out, he pushes off the door. )
So you're one of those mages, or whatever. ( not a word that he's picked up from his own home, but rather, a word that he's learned from being here; there's a nod to his chin at her, as though in indication, though there's no one else in the room. )
Gonna cast some spell on me?
( a half-hearted smile, almost a smirk, as he looks to her again, and then slides further into the room; there's the standard golden peacock fare, here, tables of toys and lubricant and condoms and towels, but there's also a vanity, if she wants to check her hair in the mirror.
on his part, he's scoping out the room for a mini fridge, or at the very least, a bucket of champagne. )
[ Don't test her, she'll do it! At least once she's done being finicky about how the dress is sitting on her body, anyway. Mayou frowns faintly as she looks down at herself, gathering up a handful of the fabric around her waist to draw it tighter, rocking from the ball of one foot to the other with a bit of a twist at the hips to test how the hem flares around her legs. She's not a huge fashion fan, but her taste in clothing is very specific.
She hears that word - mage - and the words are already out of her mouth before Dabi's question fully sinks in. ]
A witch. [ An absent-minded correction, practically automatic. Witch, wizard, sorcerer, warlock... there are differences! ] And no, I'm not casting anything. Not unless you're willing to pay for it.
[ Look at her over here just straight up implying having him help her steal a dress and save her from wardrobe hell isn't plenty of payment for some little magic trick. Then again, it mostly depends on what kind of spell he means, but who cares about the details? Mayou huffs while letting the bunched fabric fall loose like before, finally giving Dabi the amount of attention he deserves for holding up his end of the bargain and the conversation at the same time. ]
Besides, don't you have your own magic? I saw that thing you did before -- [ A waggle of her fingers punctuates her curiosity. ] -- with the fire.
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peacockstop2025-01-15 09:00 pm
ii
for now, at least, he's got on a pair of slacks, nice shoes, and a white shirt that he's stubbornly unbuttoned around the collar to keep it loose--that's part of the issue, too, that every time the staff returns with another tie, they neatly, and gently, do up the buttons again.
the voice at his side draws his attention, but it's just the narrowed glance down towards the girl: just in her underwear, which makes him scoff a breath. )
Why don't we just burn it off and call it good? ( with a glint of a smile that doesn't meet his eyes--his hands are working, once again, to undo the buttons of his shirt collar. )
Or just go in your underwear. Bet you'd get all the attention you want. ( another ghost of a smile. ) Gonna be undressed probably more than you'll be in full dress, with this kinda party. Wanna make a break for it?
( honestly, at this point, the idea of picking her up and hauling ass past the staff, right into the party, is far more favorable than waiting for the 85th color tie to be 'not quite right on his complexion'. )
no subject
A trip to the burn ward isn't my idea of a good time, believe it or not.
[ Her gaze slides over him from head to toe - nice suit by the way - taking in this kindred spirit's unique sense of style with muted curiosity. Are those staples she's seeing? Huh... very punk rock of him.
That goes some way towards explaining where his suggestion stems from. Mayou meets Dabi's sharp-edged smile with the same lazy sidelong look, allowing the attendant at her side to yank more clothes over her head without much change in expression - still stubbornly planted in 'family cat getting put in gag outfits' territory. Truly the most relatable of vibes.
Oh look, another dud dress. Shocking. Off it goes.
As for his bright idea... ]
I might. [ Her eyes narrow - less lazy now, sharper, caught somewhere between speculative and actively scrutinizing. It won't do her any good if he's promising something he can't deliver. ] Are you offering to run distraction duty or just spitting hypotheticals here?
[ It'd be all kinds of disappointing to get scruffed at the door and marched right back to square one. Nothing personal. ]
no subject
( it's said with a scoff, as though that's a paltry offer--but he's interrupted by the staff again, where this time, a red tie is tentatively held towards him, and despite his better judgment, despite knowing how to keep a tight leash on his temper, he immediately offers a stiff shake of his head and a flare of his irritated gaze. )
No red. ( it's said between his teeth to the poor guy, who immediately bows in apology. ) Don't come back with red again.
( it's too much like him--his jaw locks for a moment, fingers flexing in at his sides, but rather than lash out, he simply lifts his arms, folding them in loose against his chest as the staff disappears again in search of something else.
well, it would be easy enough. the girl probably weighs less than the little lunatic back home, and he's hauled around taller people, heavier people here; with his quirk there to end any hope of pursuit, they could get into the party and disappear somewhere into the crowd. )
...I pick you up, we run, you hang on and don't get in my way. ( he says it quietly, conversationally, as the staff hold up another dress towards her, and then seem to think better of it, skittering away again like it's not quite right. his arms drop, casual--but one of his hands stretches out, a half-damaged open palm towards her. ) C'mere.
no subject
(Why red? Does it matter? Probably not.)
The lack of immediate temper does tilt the scales in his favor, though, so that's a silver lining at least!
Still, Mayou doesn't move towards him right away quite yet. Too busy weighing her options, eyes flicking from the attendant rifling through the dress rack to Dabi and back again, considering the outcomes. Option one: getting dropped in the middle of a party practically naked is going to suck an enormous amount of balls. Option two: being stuck here in changing room purgatory is arguably worse. Looks like taking a gamble is the lesser evil today. ]
Don't carry me in some weird position and I won't be in the way in the first place. [ Should she be offended? She feels like she should be offended. Oh ye of little faith. ] Well, whatever. You're the boss.
[ Mayou crosses the empty space between them - absently noting the scar tissue pressed against her palm as she sets her hand in his. Time to skedaddle before the staff catch on. ]
no subject
well, then it's just one arm, braced around the backs of her thighs, his other hand jerked out in front of them to clear the way. )
Comin' through. ( he says, loudly--there are at least a few staff members who try to stop him, but all it takes is a small snap of his fingers to light up one of those pretty chiffon dresses, blue flames that lick and spit at the hems, clamoring hungrily up the material. with even just a small fire to contend with, there's enough chaos--and distance--that he can keep moving forward, his steps light, not quite a jog but something quicker than walking.
an elbow gets him through the double doors at the back, and then they're in the party: the sudden burst of sound, music and chattering and drink glasses and cards and chips, is almost as bad as all the lights, wincing slightly as he turns, moves forward, tries to put some distance between them and the door behind them.
with a little shrug of his shoulder, jostling her playfully: )
You want me to put you down here, princess? ( a soft snicker of breath. ) Bet we could find you a jacket or something, at least.
( especially if they head towards some of the casino tables--plenty of drunk people, unawares. )
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Mayou is perfectly content to let him do all the hard work while she watches the world go by, not offering resistance as she's tossed over his shoulder, bar some minor adjusting at the start of their little field trip so she can prop herself up on an elbow braced against his upper back. From potato sack to pampered housecat... still counts as an upgrade where her pride is concerned.
Is she petty enough to give the staff behind them a passive-aggressive little wiggle of her fingers in farewell once they notice? Yes.
Is the startling burst of blue flame going to command 100% of her attention? Very yes.
Mostly because she herself has never seen naturally occurring fire that color or ferocity before. A tiny voice in her head - the one responsible for all her bad decisions - loudly and shrilly insists she needs to figure out how to replicate it immediately.
(pls bring a fruit basket to her funeral pls and ty.) ]
Hmm? [ Oh. Are they inside already? That was fast. ] Here's as good as there, I suppose. There's bound to be tablecloths ripe for the taking somewhere in the building.
[ She doesn't make any move to make him put her down though - resting her chin in the hand propped up against his back, surveying the casino interior without much concern for her state of undress or her trusty(????) steed.
First thing's first... ]
What did you say your name was?
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( it's said in a breath of a laugh, a slight wheeze, exaggerated, as he bends at the middle, lurching forward so that he can slide her feet down to the floor. his hands steady there for a moment on her hips, making sure that she isn't going to topple one way or the other before he straightens up again.
there, a small narrowing of his eyes down at her-- )
And you didn't say yours either, princess. What is it?
( it seems to dawn on him, in that moment, how terribly underdresssed she is; he still doesn't think it's really a problem, given the depravity of this place in general, but it also doesn't quite feel right to slap her on the ass and send her on her way. given the kind of people in this place, himself included, that might just be setting her up for disaster.
why does his stupid morality compass have to point in the right directions every once in awhile? pain in the ass, honestly. )
We're not gonna put you in a fucking tablecloth. That's not sexy.
( there's a very dry roll of his eyes, as though that's the real problem. )
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[ If she sounds distracted, it's because she is, however briefly.
There's an overload of bodies and noise to process. Muggy body heat and cheap perfume, the low hum of many voices and the cheerful, distant chime of toasting glasses; glitz and glam and the electric energy of a night on the town. Her nose crinkles a bit in reflexive disgust at the idea of walking barefoot over the plush carpet no doubt getting stickier by the minute with spilled liquor.
She's not nervous, exactly, but a degree of wariness settles deep into her marrow like an old and familiar friend all the same. ]
Yes? And? I don't know if you noticed, but my options are a bit limited right now.
[ Her eyes finally return to him – an archly expectant look that dips meaningfully down to his stylish suit and back up again, trusting the silent subtext to make her point. The nerve of this guy, nixing her genius potato sack princess plan right to her face over sexiness of all things!
Oh! That reminds her: ]
If you're going to get all snooty over tablecloth togas not meeting dress code, the least you can do is introduce yourself.
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Dabi. ( that's all she's getting, for now. ) And your options aren't that limited.
( it would be easy to swipe a suit jacket off a chair, but that would only temporarily solve the problem--the other thought he has makes his lips twitch, a hint of a smile that he tries to tamper down.
how adventurous is this girl? adventurous enough to let a stranger kidnap her and dump her in the middle of some wild party, which might mean-- )
Bet we can find someone who isn't using their clothes right now. ( a soft snort of breath. ) Bet we can find lots of someones.
You wanna go scope out some of the private rooms with me? ( there's a bend of his arm, a jerk of his thumb behind them--if he knows anything about a golden peacock party, it's that there's going to be plenty of quiet places to have sex. and if people are having sex, then they'll be leaving clothes everywhere, so: it'll at least be more interactive than letting the staff pick out puffy dress after puffy dress. ) Five finger discount, you know how it goes.
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There's a long, uncomfortable silence as Mayou's expression stills. Maybe she takes the insinuation as an insult? Or maybe there's something else going on – as unreadable as her face might be, there's some pieces being shuffled around in her head as she looks up at him, as if she's adjusting what she knows about Dabi by a few subtle degrees. ]
You're a bad influence.
[ That's not accusatory. Mildly exasperated, yes, but there's a tinge of a smile in there as she turns her head away from Dabi to survey the milling guests. ]
...yeah, alright, why not. It's every girl for themselves out here.
[ A terrible influence. Truly. For her very best efforts to maintain the aloof ice queen facade, the carefully suppressed wild child in her can't help but pounce on the first little morsel of harmless mischief that gets dangled under her nose. God dammit. ]
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Oh, I'm a bad influence.
( he repeats it solemnly--a little sarcastically, as though he can't possibly believe it. out of all the things that he's been called, honestly, being labeled a 'bad influence' is paltry at best, almost cute in a way. and maybe it's a little nice, not to be immediately discarded--but he's not going to think on that too hard.
instead, since she seems keen to agree despite his bad behavior, he lets his hands slip down into the pockets of his slacks. )
This way, then. They're gonna have a shitton of rooms back here somewhere.
( though he's leaving her to follow him, as he elbows through the crowds, he does at least spare a few glances behind him--as though to assure that she's still there, that she hasn't been grabbed at by the greedy hands of drunk partygoers; once they've made it through the thick of the party, now on the outskirts, he trains his eyes forward, curving away from one hallway to the next. there's a rowdy, drunk couple that's laughing and bumping their way down along the closed doors, so he hangs back at the hallway intersection there, tilting his head quietly.
a little lift a brow towards mayou, murmuring under his breath. )
You like her dress? ( it's a pretty thing, short and glittery, and maybe it's drawn his attention more than his underwear-clad friend, but that's fine. ) Or should we keep looking?
( plenty of other rooms to explore, it's just that this one's an easy target, given how drunk they are--and the fact that they can see the door they struggle to get open, flinging it wide finally with a bark of laughter before tumbling past the doorway. )
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Leaning out a bit so she can see around him - and maybe getting a handful of his shirt so she doesn't fall over in the process - she fully expects similar tawdry fashion to the offerings on the racks outside. ]
That is a cute dress. [ She mutters (mostly to herself), rocking up on the ball of her foot to lean out a little more, poking her whole head out of cover once the coast is clear. What the hell!!!!! Where were her cute dress options outside, huh?! Talk about bullshit. ] Bit loose around the middle –– accessorize with a belt, maybe? A sash would be nice.
[ Seeing as there's nobody else coming down the hallway, Mayou quits wrinkling up his shirt in her fingers once she elects to slink further down the hall, flattening herself against the wall to cautiously peek inside... and promptly regrets it. She did NOT need to see two people getting handsy like that.
Still, Dabi gets the nod and thumbs up of approval.
Yup, that'll do nicely. Question is, how are they supposed to grab a whole-ass dress on the sly? ]
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What are you, some fashion model? --Hey.
( a hiss of breath, given that she's already pushing past him to slink further down the hall; what happened to him being the bad influence? he pads after her, pressing one damaged hand to the wall so that he can tilt his head past the frame--the couple's already wrapped around each other, engrossed in their kissing, and he peels back, away from the open door, flattening to the wall to consider.
he's trying hard to smile when he looks back down at her--and gives her a pointed nod. )
You're small. Get in there and stick low to the ground. That dress'll come off in like four minutes, tops.
( given the way the guy is getting handsy, they might have to wait even less time--and his grin is a little mischievous, bemused. )
If you get in trouble, I'll be your back up.
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Devious. Nobody could've seen that coming.
[ Oops. Seems like her default setting is 'phlegmatic' with very little deviation. Hiding behind a stupid potted plant for a dress of all things is going to be a memory seared into her brain to torture her at 3AM for the rest of her life, isn't it? Maybe going for a tacky tablecloth is the better idea after all.
Her decision is made for her once the couple inside shift places, giving her the window of opportunity to skulk her way inside and hide behind a decorative pillar just barely wide enough to cover her if she stands sideways. Still not quite close enough though - clothes start coming off and there's nowhere else Mayou can go from here, not even back the way she came.
Fine.
She didn't want to have to do this, but if it can't be helped...
A whispered word and a crooked finger - hey you, come here - like calling over a relative of a relative of a good friend, weaving a thin, tenuous string of magic as fragile as spider silk. A fisherman's line of formless yearning, temporarily harnessed for her use: "remember the good old days when you were a river?"
The pretty dress hits the floor and Mayou makes a tugging motion with her thumb and forefinger as if holding an invisible needle and thread. Impossibly, the melted water within the bucket surges up and over the rim, tipping the whole thing over in a noisy cascade of water, ice, and a half empty bottle of champagne that shatters on the glossy tile so loudly even the drunkest pair of paramours would have to notice.
A fine distraction to scoop up her prize and skedaddle back out the door, no?
Mayou's already busily pulling the dress down over her head by the time she's halfway through the doorway. ]
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it's the odd movement that draws his gaze--magic is one thing that he still doesn't fully understand, despite the interactions he's had with people like esikko, or rin, who speak of it like it's just another fact of life; his first instinct is to think it must be some kind of quirk, the way that the bucket moves, slides, as though the weight inside of it shifts. he can tell the unfortunate movement is going to cause precisely what it does--but he's got no way to stop it from happening.
the ice clatters on the floor, the water splashes out around it, accented by the shattering of the champagne bottle--with a curse, he's up onto his feet again, and when mayou comes running through the doorway, he's reaching out a hand to grab her arm and swing her behind him into the hallway, just to give her more clearance.
affronted, the woman lifts her head from the bed--and squeals at the sight of him standing there, but she's too busy covering up her chest and screeching at her partner to do something that dabi has the time to swing in for the door and pull it shut. with that, he's twisting and moving down the hallway behind mayou, calling out ahead of himself to her-- )
Get inside another room. That one. Shut the door. ( better if they hide out, rather than keep running--just in case. besides, mayou's hair is a mess now, tugging that dress on over her head; it would make them obvious targets, which is why he's pushing a palm at her back to hurry her into the room he indicated. he's just hoping it's empty. )
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She's shunted through the door of their new temporary hideout (thankfully empty) with a reproachful little 'hey!', barely catching herself with the single arm she's managed to get properly situated in the stolen dress instead of ricocheting off of the furniture. Two seconds later and said door slams shut behind them, leaving Mayou looking remarkably like she just lost a fight with a dryer on high heat, blinking owlishly at Dabi with some lingering disorientation from getting slung around so much in such a short span of time.
One more arm through this finicky strap and --- mission accomplished! One new dress and a minor case of petty theft to add to her resume.
Be cute, do crimes. Totally legit. ]
...that went better than expected. Huh. [ Oh, the silver lining of being a pessimist. She's either right, or pleasantly surprised. ] Thanks for the save, by the way.
[ Don't let the languid tone fool you - her heart's still pounding rabbit-quick in her chest no matter how hard she's trying to play it cool. Thank fuck he was there to act as the safety net. ]
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( there's a flagrant roll of his eyes, but it's mostly in jest--he's leaning his back against the door, both hands sliding down to hook into his pockets; he just wants to leave his weight there for a moment, in case they're pursued. with a tilt of his head, he listens for any sound of a scuffle outside the door, but he can't really hear anything that belies a threat.
with a slow breath in through his nose, and then out, he pushes off the door. )
So you're one of those mages, or whatever. ( not a word that he's picked up from his own home, but rather, a word that he's learned from being here; there's a nod to his chin at her, as though in indication, though there's no one else in the room. )
Gonna cast some spell on me?
( a half-hearted smile, almost a smirk, as he looks to her again, and then slides further into the room; there's the standard golden peacock fare, here, tables of toys and lubricant and condoms and towels, but there's also a vanity, if she wants to check her hair in the mirror.
on his part, he's scoping out the room for a mini fridge, or at the very least, a bucket of champagne. )
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[ Don't test her, she'll do it! At least once she's done being finicky about how the dress is sitting on her body, anyway.
Mayou frowns faintly as she looks down at herself, gathering up a handful of the fabric around her waist to draw it tighter, rocking from the ball of one foot to the other with a bit of a twist at the hips to test how the hem flares around her legs. She's not a huge fashion fan, but her taste in clothing is very specific.
She hears that word - mage - and the words are already out of her mouth before Dabi's question fully sinks in. ]
A witch. [ An absent-minded correction, practically automatic. Witch, wizard, sorcerer, warlock... there are differences! ] And no, I'm not casting anything. Not unless you're willing to pay for it.
[ Look at her over here just straight up implying having him help her steal a dress and save her from wardrobe hell isn't plenty of payment for some little magic trick. Then again, it mostly depends on what kind of spell he means, but who cares about the details?
Mayou huffs while letting the bunched fabric fall loose like before, finally giving Dabi the amount of attention he deserves for holding up his end of the bargain and the conversation at the same time. ]
Besides, don't you have your own magic? I saw that thing you did before -- [ A waggle of her fingers punctuates her curiosity. ] -- with the fire.