【 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.
( naturally, he's been full of dramatics this entire time--which means that for this roll, he's crouched himself down to be eye level with the table, peering at the felt top from over the rim of his sunglasses. one dice clunks over to show a ten, and with a bright, loud gasp, barely heard over the chatter of the party, he waits for the next dice to slide and fall--onto a four.
his head pops up from the side of the table, hands planted down on the side of it so that he can whip his chin around to look at the chart--and then he lets out a wailing sort of laugh, mostly at shouko's expense. )
Bite my ass, seriously?!
( okay, so he had been sort of holding out for something like this--but he'd been more hoping for it to be something a little nicer, more sensual, something that might lead to more of shouko's touching than necessary. maybe loneliness is just something that will never get weeded out of him, no matter how much attention he gets; or maybe it's that shouko provides the kind of comfort that he needs, now.
either way, he's straightening up to his full height, both hands sliding in to the expensive belt at his hips. )
You gotta take all this off, first. I'm not just gonna bend over like you're sticking me in the ass with a needle.
[ the laughter is expected, and met with a roll of her eyes and a defeated roll of her shoulders, forward and maybe even sulking a bit. there isn't time for it, not with her urgency to get this over with, but gojou's always been more than a little self-indulgent. back home, it might be exhausting; here, it's almost nostalgic. ]
Fine. But I'm not gonna bite your bare ass, either.
[ a line in the sand, definitive and determinedly unamused. in a small way it's a front to disguise her oddly placed nervousness about this. maybe part of it is the way they've rolled and rolled and discarded too many combinations to count. or maybe she's just on edge from the darkened sigil on he back of her neck, felt but not seen. she should probably invest in a hand mirror to be able to keep an eye on it—but that's neither here nor there in this moment.
despite her declaration, she relents a little to his whims. she circles the table, movements still somewhat encumbered as she adjusts to her rental dress, and grabs gojou by the buckle before she can overthink it. rather than make eye contact, however, to assert her dominance or whatever, she focuses on the shine of the leather, the glint of the buckle, as her fingers nimbly unlatch it. she's sure that'll earn a comment too, so in an effort to preempt it, she moves on immediately to the fly of his slacks, tastefully disguised by folds of fabric and hidden buttons, forcing her to feel along the waistband to find the zipper. her movements are clinical, though—deliberately so—until she's undone all she can.
the only thing left, then, is to practically pants him in the middle of the casino, with a little smirk on her face that's anything but apologetic. ]
Think you can turn around with your pants at your ankles?
( his shoes skid--they're expensive, shiny, the sort of thing he would wear only to some silly sorcerer gala, or the usual parade of the gojou clan heir around to other clans, showing off pristine goods; even here, they've gotten little use, sticking instead to sneakers and boots as though it helps him feel more at home. he lets shouko drag him closer, lets her plant herself right in front of him, and with a dramatic gasp, he flings both of his arms up into the air like he's being arrested; his fingers stretch out, palms splayed.
her fumbling and tugging at his belt is quick and succinct, in a way that's almost sexy--but then she's always been like this, focused to a fault, cutting through his bullshit like a knife through warm butter. eventually, his arms lower, hands sliding down to just barely ghost over her bare shoulders; he's never felt odd about touching her like this until now, with the resort putting them in this position.
and he's not going to be ashamed that her feeling around for his zipper does get a little puff of interested breath; her fingers brush against him through the fabric.
--it's the sudden rush of cooler air on his bare thighs, pants sunk down around his ankles, that has him tensing up. )
You... ( he starts, stops, deflates; with a push of bemused breath, he hobbles in a small little circle, turning around so that he can bend, leisurely, against the edge of the table--if he's going to be humiliated like this, then he should try to make it look good. his underwear's tight around his ass, cutting into the backs of his thighs; he even gives a little theatrical wiggle, as though encouraging. )
[ there's not one ounce of her that is surprised—by his unclumsy movements, by the way he curves his back a little as he leans against the table, by the way that underwear doesn't actually look like it's the right size unless he's trying to impress someone. she is, however, maybe a little surprised that he seems to be filling out somewhat, probably without even having to try. the nature of the male body, creating muscle from nothing like they hold some ancient alchemical secret. ]
I might have more fun if I got to pick where.
[ but she's smiling again, cool but affectionate. because, in a small way, he's right. mostly because he's deserved something for being so annoying for all these years together.
crouching in the dress is still hard, but she realizes quickly that bending over feels worse. the dress itself fits like a glove, but she can't help the wave of self-consciousness as she pivots at her waist, the open collar feeling like it's likely to droop and show off more than she's ready to. to say nothing of the length, which rides precariously further upward the steeper her angle. in the end, however, the more she draws it out, the longer someone has the chance to look. and so, she simply bends, leans in, and chooses a spot closer to the top of his gluteus medius to sink a slow, purposeful bite. it's not hard, but it is deep enough to be noticed before she pulls back. the mental checklist finally has another mark. ]
Did you pick out that detergent scent or is that just what the upper crust gets around here? [ it's not quite floral, not quite fresh, but it lingers on her palate in a way that makes her nose wrinkle. ] Maybe I should've done it bare.
( it's a little embarrassing to think this is the first time he's been bit like this in this place, and of all people, it's with shouko--not that he minds, but he imagines that even if he might be interested enough to give it a shot, she's seen him in all of his ugliest and prettiest moments, and might not be so keen to continue. something he doesn't blame her for, just as he doesn't blame the way the bite is actually harder than he'd expected, though not that hard at all; it makes him laugh, rocking forwards towards the table like he might just escape right away from it.
still, a game is a game, or whatever, and besides, she's after something that he understands--he might stand in her way, playfully, but he won't fully block her from getting something. )
You got a problem with my laundry, huh~?
( in a playful drawl, as he stretches his back further, angling his ass up as though to push it closer. )
It's not like I do it myself. You wanna come over and wash your clothes?
( pointedly, he is still not pulling his pants up. instead, he re-folds his arms against the edge of the table and hums. )
I wonder what else we could do with my pants down like this.
I've thought about it. [ she smiles, a little fond, a little mysterious, forever non-committal. all in all she actually isn't particularly bothered by the basement. sure, it's noisy and there's a distinct lack of privacy, but in small ways it reminds her of home for those very reasons. of course she knows she could lean on her classmates (is it still correct to think of nanami as a classmate?), but there's a persistent stubborn streak within her that has her holding out, resisting. refusing, she supposes, but for what? ] The laundry, not what else we could do like this.
[ it's a dismissal, coupled with a hard slap to his ass, on the side opposite of her lingering, damp teeth marks. maybe she's testing his limits—pain, punishment, or even just tolerating her push and pull, since it feels like it's been a lifetime since they've had something so close to normal. and it's not the first, nor will it be the last time she considers how strange time feels here in general. how the days tick by on the calendar app in the Watch, but everything feels the same with no windows, doors, or clocks on the walls, so that time might as well not be passing at all. she considers that maybe that's why even this seems to feel like time stretched out, the endless rolling of ridiculous dice, a means to gain entry into some silly high rollers club simply for the sake of it.
she takes up the dice again, rolls—and moans in frustration. ]
Tickle ear? I need another cigarette... Roll something better. I think I just need one more.
[ she abandons the treacherous dice for the pearlescent clam-shell purse on the table's edge. in it? nothing but a mostly full pack of thankfully very normal cigarettes. she's still got almost the whole pack of the cursed ones buried beneath her mattress. ]
( an immediate yelp, his hips jerking forward towards the table, but there's no retaliation--just a bit of grumbling, as he slowly crouches to find the waist of his pants and start to tug them back up again. somewhere amidst the sharp yank of his zipper and the knock of his belt buckle, he hears the dice go across the table, and he watches them roll--and laughs, at the end, wrinkling his nose in displeasure.
he can handle a lot of things, but that's such a weird one that he decides they can waive it anyway. with his pants secured, he reaches with both hands to scoop up the dice; part of him considers asking shouko for a smoke, something he's only done once in his life (and immediately regretted it) but instead he focuses in on the task at hand.
a little hum, and he knocks the dice out across the table--a glance at the numbers, mumbling, then up to the legend-- )
Lick. ( he says, and then immediately dons a cheshire grin, twisting to look at her over his shoulder. ) ...Lips.
Kyaaaaa, Shouko-chan~. ( one of his hands comes up, cradling his own cheek like he's a middle school girl, presented with her crush. ) Are you sure we should do this~.
( of course they will. after the ass biting, no holds barred. )
[ she's quick with her lighter as gojou's dice gallop across the felt, eyes trained on them rather than the flame in her hands. it's practiced enough that she could probably light a cigarette with her eyes closed, and she sets the lighter aside with a muted reservation, exhaling as she considers the results. her reaction is far more tempered than gojou's, not quite annoyed, not quite enthusiastic. ]
Worse for you than for me, I think. [ said with a glance at her freshly lit cigarette, poised between her fingers while her other arm crosses over her waist. something about this rings just a little ironic to her, the way they (the three of them, really) have horsed around so much but never quite let it get to points like this. the way the pair of them had bobbed for dildos of all things, but ultimately failed to put any of them to use. (and whose fault had that been, shouko?) ]
It's a shame I didn't bring any flavored lip gloss for you. [ humor, punctuated with a quick pull off her cigarette. just rip off the bandage.
her arm drops from her waist to reach for gojou's, twining around his middle to drag him in. somehow making it more intimate feels less gaudy to her, like this is something that isn't just a means to an end, two classmates ultimately too comfortable with each other out of necessity. even in her heels, she still falls short of anything like meeting his height, and looks up at him through her lashes expectantly, curiously. ]
Make it quick and I'll let you have a drag. Even though we both know you'll regret it.
I don't like lip gloss. ( he says, matter-of-fact, lips turned up into a grin, but that attitude is easily wiped away in the face of her boldness. ) It's...
( her arm moves in, wrapping around his middle, and despite the fact that he could easily put her off, given his height, his weight, he lets his heels skid forward, making little indents in the carpet as he's reeled closer like a fish on a hook. it's true, they've never gotten this far before: or at least, the two of them haven't, and he doesn't want to think about suguru, doesn't want to let that thought land. of course, it does anyway, because has shouko kissed him? have they messed around behind his back? kept secrets from him, like that?
his head throbs a little, like the spade at his temple is pulsing; his lips purse together, trying to fight off the feeling. )
...sticky. ( he finally finishes, a little absently. his gaze goes from the cigarette, to her mouth, then back to the cigarette again--and he huffs a breath, inhaling more of his ego to keep them steady.
one of his hands lifts, long fingers that take her by the chin, tipping her up towards him; his shoulders hunch, back bent forward to mitigate the height difference between them. there's a dart of curiosity, as he looks at her up close; it's almost like he's trying to decide if she's really letting him do this, but without waiting, he leans in, a soft lap of his tongue down over her lower lip, caught at the opposite corner.
normally he'd push it a little more: but he doesn't think she'd appreciate having his tongue in her mouth so soon, which is why he hunches back a moment, like a dog waiting to be scolded. )
[ it had hardly been much of a temptation, more of a ploy to get under his skin, remind him that she notices all the subtle gestures and surreptitious glances he'd always manage to sneak past the adults back home. she's an observer by nature, and not even gojou is immune to that, maybe because she knows just as well as he does that there are parts of him she may never quite know. but, then, that goes both ways, doesn't it? still, she likes the way he goes slack at her tugging, pliant for her as she reels him in, smiles up at him as if she's made some offer he simply can't refuse. he can, of course; they've refused tamer before this, even outside of this dreadful casino. maybe that's what she's always liked best about them—the eternal push and pull without ever quite crossing a line. she's an observer, a watcher, a chaser, like a cat that abandons its prey as soon as its trapped beneath its paws, never quite certain what comes after the hunt.
so her smile falters as soon as he leans in, unseen by his eyes but maybe noticed by the other six, something not quite horrified but certainly shocked. she hadn't expected him to rise to the bait, let alone fall for it so readily. her eyes flutter closed as if they're really about to kiss, and of all things goosebumps sprout along her arms, shoulder to fingertip, when his tongue proves warm, soft, and nimble. why had she expected anything less, with the stories and excuses he's able to fabricate with such ease back home? of course he's silvertongued in all aspects, not the least of which might prove to be kissing.
the end of her cigarette crackles away, ash getting longer by the moment as she opens her eyes, almost one at a time, in something of a daze. thank god he looks remorseful; the look on his face lets her laugh, lets her slip right back into the space they should occupy rather than the one she feels urged towards. the smoke, the drinks, the menacing mark at the back of her neck—she'd never want something like that so badly under other circumstances. not from either of them. ]
Done.
[ her voice is a chime, low and resonant in the din of the room. and she taps the end of her cigarette against the edge of the gilded ashtray built into the edge of the table. then she offers it to him, an olive branch, a consolation prize. ]
I think that's all I need to trade in. You wanna come with me?
( he looks, waits, pleads with the round blue of his eyes, but there's no punishment--well, no outward punishment, as far as he can tell. rather, shouko laughs, and he can't tell if he enjoys it, can't tell if it's something that he should laugh along with, or if it's more that he's the butt of the joke. reflexive, he does at least smile, scrambling for his ego like a sheet to throw up in front of him, a magician quickly rearranging his cards; beaming, he straightens back up again, hands climbing onto his own hips with a laugh.
beaming, he continues-- ) Done! Best licking you'll ever get!
( he stands there for a moment, basking in the sun of his own praise, before he realizes she's offering out the cigarette--he relaxes, reaching into take it between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it to take an experimental breath.
naturally, it comes out in a muffled cough; one hand waves in front of his face, while the other passes the cigarette back as though in disgust. )
Don't have anything else--better to do. ( he wheezes, softly, before he swallows down the dramatics; instead, he drops an arm around shouko's shoulder, casual, as though to both express his interest in coming along and to provide her something of a barrier, in case anyone gets too interested and tries to drag her in along the way. ) Remind me, what are we getting~?
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peacockstop2025-01-15 09:00 pm
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his head pops up from the side of the table, hands planted down on the side of it so that he can whip his chin around to look at the chart--and then he lets out a wailing sort of laugh, mostly at shouko's expense. )
Bite my ass, seriously?!
( okay, so he had been sort of holding out for something like this--but he'd been more hoping for it to be something a little nicer, more sensual, something that might lead to more of shouko's touching than necessary. maybe loneliness is just something that will never get weeded out of him, no matter how much attention he gets; or maybe it's that shouko provides the kind of comfort that he needs, now.
either way, he's straightening up to his full height, both hands sliding in to the expensive belt at his hips. )
You gotta take all this off, first. I'm not just gonna bend over like you're sticking me in the ass with a needle.
( no, he won't fall for that again. )
no subject
Fine. But I'm not gonna bite your bare ass, either.
[ a line in the sand, definitive and determinedly unamused. in a small way it's a front to disguise her oddly placed nervousness about this. maybe part of it is the way they've rolled and rolled and discarded too many combinations to count. or maybe she's just on edge from the darkened sigil on he back of her neck, felt but not seen. she should probably invest in a hand mirror to be able to keep an eye on it—but that's neither here nor there in this moment.
despite her declaration, she relents a little to his whims. she circles the table, movements still somewhat encumbered as she adjusts to her rental dress, and grabs gojou by the buckle before she can overthink it. rather than make eye contact, however, to assert her dominance or whatever, she focuses on the shine of the leather, the glint of the buckle, as her fingers nimbly unlatch it. she's sure that'll earn a comment too, so in an effort to preempt it, she moves on immediately to the fly of his slacks, tastefully disguised by folds of fabric and hidden buttons, forcing her to feel along the waistband to find the zipper. her movements are clinical, though—deliberately so—until she's undone all she can.
the only thing left, then, is to practically pants him in the middle of the casino, with a little smirk on her face that's anything but apologetic. ]
Think you can turn around with your pants at your ankles?
no subject
her fumbling and tugging at his belt is quick and succinct, in a way that's almost sexy--but then she's always been like this, focused to a fault, cutting through his bullshit like a knife through warm butter. eventually, his arms lower, hands sliding down to just barely ghost over her bare shoulders; he's never felt odd about touching her like this until now, with the resort putting them in this position.
and he's not going to be ashamed that her feeling around for his zipper does get a little puff of interested breath; her fingers brush against him through the fabric.
--it's the sudden rush of cooler air on his bare thighs, pants sunk down around his ankles, that has him tensing up. )
You... ( he starts, stops, deflates; with a push of bemused breath, he hobbles in a small little circle, turning around so that he can bend, leisurely, against the edge of the table--if he's going to be humiliated like this, then he should try to make it look good. his underwear's tight around his ass, cutting into the backs of his thighs; he even gives a little theatrical wiggle, as though encouraging. )
...are gonna have so much fun~ biting me.
no subject
I might have more fun if I got to pick where.
[ but she's smiling again, cool but affectionate. because, in a small way, he's right. mostly because he's deserved something for being so annoying for all these years together.
crouching in the dress is still hard, but she realizes quickly that bending over feels worse. the dress itself fits like a glove, but she can't help the wave of self-consciousness as she pivots at her waist, the open collar feeling like it's likely to droop and show off more than she's ready to. to say nothing of the length, which rides precariously further upward the steeper her angle. in the end, however, the more she draws it out, the longer someone has the chance to look. and so, she simply bends, leans in, and chooses a spot closer to the top of his gluteus medius to sink a slow, purposeful bite. it's not hard, but it is deep enough to be noticed before she pulls back. the mental checklist finally has another mark. ]
Did you pick out that detergent scent or is that just what the upper crust gets around here? [ it's not quite floral, not quite fresh, but it lingers on her palate in a way that makes her nose wrinkle. ] Maybe I should've done it bare.
no subject
still, a game is a game, or whatever, and besides, she's after something that he understands--he might stand in her way, playfully, but he won't fully block her from getting something. )
You got a problem with my laundry, huh~?
( in a playful drawl, as he stretches his back further, angling his ass up as though to push it closer. )
It's not like I do it myself. You wanna come over and wash your clothes?
( pointedly, he is still not pulling his pants up. instead, he re-folds his arms against the edge of the table and hums. )
I wonder what else we could do with my pants down like this.
no subject
[ it's a dismissal, coupled with a hard slap to his ass, on the side opposite of her lingering, damp teeth marks. maybe she's testing his limits—pain, punishment, or even just tolerating her push and pull, since it feels like it's been a lifetime since they've had something so close to normal. and it's not the first, nor will it be the last time she considers how strange time feels here in general. how the days tick by on the calendar app in the Watch, but everything feels the same with no windows, doors, or clocks on the walls, so that time might as well not be passing at all. she considers that maybe that's why even this seems to feel like time stretched out, the endless rolling of ridiculous dice, a means to gain entry into some silly high rollers club simply for the sake of it.
she takes up the dice again, rolls—and moans in frustration. ]
Tickle ear? I need another cigarette... Roll something better. I think I just need one more.
[ she abandons the treacherous dice for the pearlescent clam-shell purse on the table's edge. in it? nothing but a mostly full pack of thankfully very normal cigarettes. she's still got almost the whole pack of the cursed ones buried beneath her mattress. ]
no subject
he can handle a lot of things, but that's such a weird one that he decides they can waive it anyway. with his pants secured, he reaches with both hands to scoop up the dice; part of him considers asking shouko for a smoke, something he's only done once in his life (and immediately regretted it) but instead he focuses in on the task at hand.
a little hum, and he knocks the dice out across the table--a glance at the numbers, mumbling, then up to the legend-- )
Lick. ( he says, and then immediately dons a cheshire grin, twisting to look at her over his shoulder. ) ...Lips.
Kyaaaaa, Shouko-chan~. ( one of his hands comes up, cradling his own cheek like he's a middle school girl, presented with her crush. ) Are you sure we should do this~.
( of course they will. after the ass biting, no holds barred. )
no subject
Worse for you than for me, I think. [ said with a glance at her freshly lit cigarette, poised between her fingers while her other arm crosses over her waist. something about this rings just a little ironic to her, the way they (the three of them, really) have horsed around so much but never quite let it get to points like this. the way the pair of them had bobbed for dildos of all things, but ultimately failed to put any of them to use. (and whose fault had that been, shouko?) ]
It's a shame I didn't bring any flavored lip gloss for you. [ humor, punctuated with a quick pull off her cigarette. just rip off the bandage.
her arm drops from her waist to reach for gojou's, twining around his middle to drag him in. somehow making it more intimate feels less gaudy to her, like this is something that isn't just a means to an end, two classmates ultimately too comfortable with each other out of necessity. even in her heels, she still falls short of anything like meeting his height, and looks up at him through her lashes expectantly, curiously. ]
Make it quick and I'll let you have a drag. Even though we both know you'll regret it.
no subject
( her arm moves in, wrapping around his middle, and despite the fact that he could easily put her off, given his height, his weight, he lets his heels skid forward, making little indents in the carpet as he's reeled closer like a fish on a hook. it's true, they've never gotten this far before: or at least, the two of them haven't, and he doesn't want to think about suguru, doesn't want to let that thought land. of course, it does anyway, because has shouko kissed him? have they messed around behind his back? kept secrets from him, like that?
his head throbs a little, like the spade at his temple is pulsing; his lips purse together, trying to fight off the feeling. )
...sticky. ( he finally finishes, a little absently. his gaze goes from the cigarette, to her mouth, then back to the cigarette again--and he huffs a breath, inhaling more of his ego to keep them steady.
one of his hands lifts, long fingers that take her by the chin, tipping her up towards him; his shoulders hunch, back bent forward to mitigate the height difference between them. there's a dart of curiosity, as he looks at her up close; it's almost like he's trying to decide if she's really letting him do this, but without waiting, he leans in, a soft lap of his tongue down over her lower lip, caught at the opposite corner.
normally he'd push it a little more: but he doesn't think she'd appreciate having his tongue in her mouth so soon, which is why he hunches back a moment, like a dog waiting to be scolded. )
no subject
so her smile falters as soon as he leans in, unseen by his eyes but maybe noticed by the other six, something not quite horrified but certainly shocked. she hadn't expected him to rise to the bait, let alone fall for it so readily. her eyes flutter closed as if they're really about to kiss, and of all things goosebumps sprout along her arms, shoulder to fingertip, when his tongue proves warm, soft, and nimble. why had she expected anything less, with the stories and excuses he's able to fabricate with such ease back home? of course he's silvertongued in all aspects, not the least of which might prove to be kissing.
the end of her cigarette crackles away, ash getting longer by the moment as she opens her eyes, almost one at a time, in something of a daze. thank god he looks remorseful; the look on his face lets her laugh, lets her slip right back into the space they should occupy rather than the one she feels urged towards. the smoke, the drinks, the menacing mark at the back of her neck—she'd never want something like that so badly under other circumstances. not from either of them. ]
Done.
[ her voice is a chime, low and resonant in the din of the room. and she taps the end of her cigarette against the edge of the gilded ashtray built into the edge of the table. then she offers it to him, an olive branch, a consolation prize. ]
I think that's all I need to trade in. You wanna come with me?
no subject
beaming, he continues-- ) Done! Best licking you'll ever get!
( he stands there for a moment, basking in the sun of his own praise, before he realizes she's offering out the cigarette--he relaxes, reaching into take it between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it to take an experimental breath.
naturally, it comes out in a muffled cough; one hand waves in front of his face, while the other passes the cigarette back as though in disgust. )
Don't have anything else--better to do. ( he wheezes, softly, before he swallows down the dramatics; instead, he drops an arm around shouko's shoulder, casual, as though to both express his interest in coming along and to provide her something of a barrier, in case anyone gets too interested and tries to drag her in along the way. ) Remind me, what are we getting~?
( as if it's somehow his prize to claim. )