【 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.
[Being a 10 means being afforded more luxury than most, so it's usually quite nice to wake up in the morning. Not so much today after whatever the hell happened last night ... or the night before that -- Vil is still too out of it to attempt a timeline of events, trying to carefully remove grit from his eyelashes without rubbing at his eyes. "Carefully" isn't really working with his current level of coordination.
The cheerful voice that cuts through the relative silence is unfamiliar, and he attempts to sit up, managing to flip ungracefully onto his chest, his upper body supported by a very nice pillow. (Belatedly, he realizes there's been a clatter of plates and cutlery above the sounds of the shifting blankets.)
And then he's just staring uncomprehendingly at the stranger in his room. A stranger sitting at a table that definitely was not there before, eating food that definitely was not there before. A stranger who has been sitting there while he's been disheveled and completely outside of his normal beauty routine. He would be more self-critical if he wasn't still figuring out the situation.]
Who ... are you, and why are you...
[His mouth is grossly dry. He flaps his hand in tired annoyance as if that will convey his unfinished questions, frowning.]
[ fig has, by now, made his full rounds of the space. curiosity, and all that, topped off by an inherent nosiness that would have been prominent in any form he'd taken. but at least in this case it lends to some pragmatism; it's always a good idea to get a sense of where one's ended up, after all.
in his investigation, he'd more or less come to the conclusion that this particular space is, in fact, lived in. there are touches of a personal preference that can't go ignored, not to mention the fact it smells wholly of the man who'd been content to lay sprawled out on the bed. fig did the math, suffice to say.
does that make him act any less like the space might as well have been his own? no. of course not. ]
Lovely room, [ he chirps, as if vil's tone was not in itself an invitation to get the fuck out. ] I'm Fig. [ he had also just eaten a fig — jam form, spread over a few buttery crackers.
he offers helpfully: ]
You look like you've been run over.
[ he should know. he's known a many good cat who had it happen to them. ]
[Rather than take offense to what's probably an accurate statement, Vil musters up enough strength to sit up more properly, if with the help of the pillow, and sighs tiredly.]
I may have made some bad choices.
[Yesterday or the day before. Whatever made the most sense for such a terribly long ... party. He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to push those thoughts away to focus more on the present.]
Where did the food come from?
[It most definitely wasn't his; even if he cared for such decadent breakfast dishes, he's sure the spread included ingredients he didn't normally keep around.]
aftercare 1
The cheerful voice that cuts through the relative silence is unfamiliar, and he attempts to sit up, managing to flip ungracefully onto his chest, his upper body supported by a very nice pillow. (Belatedly, he realizes there's been a clatter of plates and cutlery above the sounds of the shifting blankets.)
And then he's just staring uncomprehendingly at the stranger in his room. A stranger sitting at a table that definitely was not there before, eating food that definitely was not there before. A stranger who has been sitting there while he's been disheveled and completely outside of his normal beauty routine. He would be more self-critical if he wasn't still figuring out the situation.]
Who ... are you, and why are you...
[His mouth is grossly dry. He flaps his hand in tired annoyance as if that will convey his unfinished questions, frowning.]
You're in my room.
no subject
in his investigation, he'd more or less come to the conclusion that this particular space is, in fact, lived in. there are touches of a personal preference that can't go ignored, not to mention the fact it smells wholly of the man who'd been content to lay sprawled out on the bed. fig did the math, suffice to say.
does that make him act any less like the space might as well have been his own? no. of course not. ]
Lovely room, [ he chirps, as if vil's tone was not in itself an invitation to get the fuck out. ] I'm Fig. [ he had also just eaten a fig — jam form, spread over a few buttery crackers.
he offers helpfully: ]
You look like you've been run over.
[ he should know. he's known a many good cat who had it happen to them. ]
no subject
I may have made some bad choices.
[Yesterday or the day before. Whatever made the most sense for such a terribly long ... party. He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to push those thoughts away to focus more on the present.]
Where did the food come from?
[It most definitely wasn't his; even if he cared for such decadent breakfast dishes, he's sure the spread included ingredients he didn't normally keep around.]