【 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.
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( grimly, he inspects the door, reaching out to rap once against the window. ordinary glass as far as he can discern, which means it should be vulnerable to a strong enough blast of hydro. )
I believe the colloquial term is known as 'breaking and entering'. So in this case: breaking and exiting.
( alas, no one is laughing.
least of all the car, who appears quite alarmed at the prospect of an act of violence being committed against it. the smooth jazz quickly changes to a discordant series of notes, the lights begin to flash off and on, and the car horn suddenly depresses, letting out a slow anxious whine.
the abruptness of it all has him pausing, his rising hand halting in midair. )
No. I do not know what is causing all of these—disruptions. Are you certain there is no one else in here in addition to ourselves.
( with the door forgotten, he leans forward to peer into the front carriage for himself. )
[No one is laughing, though Sunday does look at him... surprised... that sure was a joke. Unfortunately, Sunday has negative humor.]
Interesting. It's reacting to our words and actions, so it must understand us.
[And that fact is unsettling enough — what sort of power would keep them trapped in here for their own amusement? Clearly there's an ulterior motive, but Sunday's not intending to pursue that. So — teamwork B&E continues.]
I don't see or sense anyone. It could be some kind of technology that allows the person to control the vehicle from a distance. And this space itself is likely bugged with cameras and audio devices. [Welcome to the future, Mr. Neuvillette.] What was that you meant about getting wet? It can't be good for the interior upholstery...
[Perhaps if they threaten it enough, it'll let them out?]
( if out of control cars and remote cameras is what the future holds then he would like one return ticket to his past, thank you.
the idea that someone might be holding them both hostage in this enclosure for their own entertainment purposes is somehow even more insulting than a simple kidnapping. neither of them are zoo animals, to be kept purely for observational purposes. the upholstery will simply have to be a necessary sacrifice. )
A simple use of water pressure to break the glass of the window.
( if his water cannon can decimate almost every enemy in spiral abyss, then surely a single window should pose no problem. be his temporary buffer, sunday. )
[Help, Sunday would buff Neuvillette to be stronger than he already is and the world isn't ready for that.]
I... don't.
[The words startle out of him, surprise on his face. It isn't so often he's taken completely off-guard, but this man's suggestion stated so clearly and logically is not at all what he expected.]
while a less destructive method of freeing themselves would have been preferred, the more time they spend in this car the more likely something else will go awry beyond simple flashing lights and shifts in musical genre.
at least the answer to sunday's question is far more straightforward and simple. )
Myself. I possess some proficiency in manipulating the element of water. ( to put things lightly. ) You may wish to stand back.
( while he prepares to water gun them both out of here. the car lets out another sorrowful honk-whine and shuts all the lights off. )
[It is the first he's heard of such an ability, but it shouldn't sit outside the realm of possibility that someone could do this, somewhere on another planet — what sort of Path does this individual walk? Sunday's gaze lingers, assessing the man as if he might understand him in a look.
But he's also keen to escape the trap they're in, so now isn't the time for a conversation. He's warned to stay back, yet there's really not much space to navigate in the slender vehicle, so he carefully edges around the man in an effort to slip back down the aisle to... the other side of the car. It's three steps maximum. Yes, he is going to get hit by some of the water.]
Please don't hold back on my account.
[Soon-to-be wet cat's famous last words.]
LISTEN....it's not very mindful or demure to be boastful 😔
( wet cats they both shall be very shortly.....or perhaps more aptly, one soggy bird and one soaked dragon
once satisfied with the (meager) distance between himself and the gentleman in the car with him, neuvillette turns to face the door, raises one hand, and calls forth the power of the tides.
it certainly is enough to blast the door right off its hinges, but the the backlash nearly floods the interior of the car before it drains back out. the upholstery is soaked, their robes completely drenched through, their hair clinging to their faces, but surely all of it is worth the price of freedom. )
Sunday has... regrets, standing there drenched, meager robe clinging to his body. Even the wings beside his ears have drooped, once-fluffy feathers now dripping onto his shoulders in that pure encapsulation of a drowned bird. It's miserable. He is suddenly cold, but he doesn't shiver, just... picks up his feet and walks barefoot toward the door, heels squishing wetly on the drenched carpet.
It was a miraculous display of power, one that he will linger on wondrously for a while — but he can't quite keep the woe out of his expression in the moment.]
I offer my thanks. [Sadly.] Though, I never did ask your name. I am Sunday — how should I address you?
( so ungrateful? he'll leave sunday behind in the car next time.
still, he supposes most others are not as fond of water as he is, and it is not exactly warm down in the strange holding area they've found themselves in, once neuvillette clambers out and takes a look around. only concrete walls and more of the strange vehicles as far as the eye can see.
he's preoccupied with taking in their surroundings, so his replies come half-hearted and distracted. )
You may call me Neuvillette.
( normally he would be a touch more courteous than this, but normally he doesn't go around being kidnapped from his rooms without warning and stuffed into a garish sparkly robe. the words HOT STUFF are emblazoned onto the back. )
We should—
( sunday's saving grace comes in the form of the valet, who scuttles over jaw agape only to scurry away again with a quick wait right here!. neuvillette turns, raises his brows at sunday('s sad, pathetic figure).
[They're in a garage. Sunday can tell immediately once they've stepped out, although it fails to minimize his confusion, because it doesn't look like anywhere he's been in the past. He would know if he was still in Penacony; least of all, this man would recognize him.]
Mr. Neuvillette.
[HOT STUFF... Poor man. Should Sunday tell him? Before he can make a decision the valet appears, then immediately races off.]
Hm. If we wait, he might be able to provide us more information on our circumstances. [NPC exposition we can handwave.] But I won't stop you if you choose to leave and investigate the area yourself. You have no reason to stay with me. And you seem quite capable of defending yourself, if that need arises.
[With that water cannon... Sunday is just a weak little guy in comparison. As he waits, he starts wringing out the bottom of his drenched robe, trying to preserve some Dignity.]
the option to investigate is certainly appealing, especially while they seem to be relatively unguarded. but if this was indeed some sort of kidnapping, then the gentleman next to him is as much a victim in all of this as he. he cannot simply leave the man alone. though now that he takes the time to properly look at sunday, dripping puddles of water all over the ground, contrition ripples through his voice. )
My apologies. You must be uncomfortable after so much water.
( not all enjoy walking through the rain without an umbrella as he does, nor find comfort in the warm embrace of the deep ocean currents. )
Please, allow me.
( water giveth and water taketh away...or in this case, it's the hydro dragon, once again stretching out one bare hand to summon the water forth. the moisture separates from sunday's robe and hair and soggy little wing-feathers, almost as though pulled by some unseen force. it gathers, forming a small roiling ball of water, before splattering harmlessly onto the ground.
all done!
and there, in the distance, the sound of footsteps and squeaky wheels echoing off the concrete of the parking garage. it seems the valet has returned with a rack of clothing in tow. )
[To say he's surprised would be an understatement.
Sunday is shocked by the casual display of power. One moment he's a sopping wet cat and the next — it is like the water never touched him. He watches that ball of water, like a blue marble held aloft, and then it splashes to the ground, sluicing across concrete in a wet splash.]
That was... incredible.
[It is on the tip of his tongue to ask questions in the wake of his own fierce curiosity, but too soon the valet has returned, bowing profusely, apologies spilling out of his mouth. No one ever comes down here, the man tells them, pushing the rack of clothes forward. Here, where? Forgive me, sirs, I don't have much to offer you. Sunday's puzzlement gets the better of him.]
Could you please tell us where we are? I apologize, our heads are a bit — foggy. We woke without much memory of our circumstances. Anything would help.
[Golden Peacock, 5-star Resort and Casino! The valet points to the Watches on their wrists. Everything you need to know's in there. Go ahead and take whatever clothes you want! On the House. Now excuse me, got to hurry! And he's off, racing to the next guests who need him.
A bit skeptically, Sunday turns his attention to the clothes, then to Neuvillette.]
Why don't you get dressed and I will investigate these... devices, in the meantime? [Ahem.] I'll turn away for your privacy.
( the explanation is...lacking, vague in answer and brief in summary. but given his role in overseeing these 'cars' and little else, perhaps that is to be expected. whoever it is actually holds the answers to both how and why of their presence here is unlikely to be found in a room meant solely to house vehicles.
which means they will need to leave this place, and that means sunday's suggestion is the most pragmatic one at the moment. although. neuvillette gestures towards the rack of clothing. )
Are you certain you wouldn't prefer to change first, Mr. Sunday? You looked rather uncomfortable earlier.
[Ah. Though he recognizes that his discomfort wasn't exactly subtle, he can't help but turn his own self-chastisement inward for making it obvious enough this man noticed. His own gaze strays to the clothing rack in consideration. Surely there will be something on there preferable to this... flimsy excuse of a robe wrapped around his body.]
It's nothing I can't stand. Besides, with your help, I am no longer soaking wet.
[A bit of a charitable interpretation, since Neuvillette was the reason he became a drowned rat in the first place.]
How about we both change together? Facing away, of course. I don't mean to invade your privacy. Our circumstances are difficult enough at the moment.
but the compromise is acceptable and he nods once in the affirmative, appending a quick very well, before turning towards the creaky clothing rack and sorting through the options hung up for display. high collars, ruffled sleeves, all similar to the fashion he usually wears, though the fabric itself is stiff underneath his fingers and a touch dusty as well.
a small moth flies out from underneath one coat lapel, careening past sunday's ear before vanishing in the dim light. neuvillette frowns. )
It seems as though these have not been worn for some time.
( might there be mold growing on the inside of some of them....? hopefully not. with a shirt and pair of slacks pulled off the rack, he gets to work changing. turned away from sunday, of course. )
[That judgment isn't wrong. Sunday inspects the rack of clothing from the other side, his eyes following the moth's path of flight — and though he's good at schooling his expression, there's a tightness around his mouth. Almost humor. Almost a smile.
After selecting his own outfit from the available options — the least ruffled and gaudy he can find, a black bowtie suit — he turns his back as well and begins changing. He opens his robe and shivers at a cold draft of air, recognizing how much worse this would be if he was still wet.]
I suppose of anyone else I could have woken up in a strange new world with, I'm glad it was such agreeable company.
[He can be self-reflective, and in the past, he can't say that he would have felt agreeable amongst so many unknowns. Mr. Neuvillette is naturally calm; that does seem to help.]
( the comment catches him halfway through buttoning up a striped shirt over his chest, fingers pausing for half a moment as his eyes flick to the left. of all the various descriptors both people and publications have used to refer to him in the past, he can't say he's ever heard that one with alarming frequency. or at all, really. )
I am not usually described as such.
( reserved, aloof, impartial, impersonal, unfeeling, on the other hand....but he is grateful for sunday's even temperament in the face of these unique circumstances, and the steadiness of both his tone and bearing. )
In that case, I must also thank you for being equally agreeable company.
( it could be much worse. it could be furina here with him, voice loud and screeching as she oscillates between panic and dramatic indignation. )
Do you typically find yourself waking in strange vehicles with strange company, Mr. Sunday?
[Please, Neuvillette is far more agreeable than so many of the Family representatives he's had to deal with. Though they dedicate themselves to the Harmony, it does not lend itself to seamless collaboration in practice. A common cause can't always unite the differences of personality, but Sunday understood — at least back then — that each of them was necessary in order to work toward a common goal.
Here, there's almost a kind of freedom in being able to choose his own company.]
Then we have that in common. [Stuffy, awkward, proper bureaucrats that they are...] And no, not usually. I had — ah, certain standing that would have made it difficult to encounter such unusual situations. My days were quite regimented.
[Local control freak in recovery at your service. He laughs, more at himself, pulling on the starchy white shirt and buttoning it up with nimble fingers.]
I had a feeling something like this might happen eventually. Not so specific, but... equally out of the ordinary. I left my previous position, you see. What about yourself, Mr. Neuvillette?
no subject
I believe the colloquial term is known as 'breaking and entering'. So in this case: breaking and exiting.
( alas, no one is laughing.
least of all the car, who appears quite alarmed at the prospect of an act of violence being committed against it. the smooth jazz quickly changes to a discordant series of notes, the lights begin to flash off and on, and the car horn suddenly depresses, letting out a slow anxious whine.
the abruptness of it all has him pausing, his rising hand halting in midair. )
No. I do not know what is causing all of these—disruptions. Are you certain there is no one else in here in addition to ourselves.
( with the door forgotten, he leans forward to peer into the front carriage for himself. )
no subject
Interesting. It's reacting to our words and actions, so it must understand us.
[And that fact is unsettling enough — what sort of power would keep them trapped in here for their own amusement? Clearly there's an ulterior motive, but Sunday's not intending to pursue that. So — teamwork B&E continues.]
I don't see or sense anyone. It could be some kind of technology that allows the person to control the vehicle from a distance. And this space itself is likely bugged with cameras and audio devices. [Welcome to the future, Mr. Neuvillette.] What was that you meant about getting wet? It can't be good for the interior upholstery...
[Perhaps if they threaten it enough, it'll let them out?]
no subject
the idea that someone might be holding them both hostage in this enclosure for their own entertainment purposes is somehow even more insulting than a simple kidnapping. neither of them are zoo animals, to be kept purely for observational purposes. the upholstery will simply have to be a necessary sacrifice. )
A simple use of water pressure to break the glass of the window.
( if his water cannon can decimate almost every enemy in spiral abyss, then surely a single window should pose no problem. be his temporary buffer, sunday. )
Unless you have an alternative suggestion?
no subject
I... don't.
[The words startle out of him, surprise on his face. It isn't so often he's taken completely off-guard, but this man's suggestion stated so clearly and logically is not at all what he expected.]
But where is this water coming from?
no subject
while a less destructive method of freeing themselves would have been preferred, the more time they spend in this car the more likely something else will go awry beyond simple flashing lights and shifts in musical genre.
at least the answer to sunday's question is far more straightforward and simple. )
Myself. I possess some proficiency in manipulating the element of water. ( to put things lightly. ) You may wish to stand back.
( while he prepares to water gun them both out of here. the car lets out another sorrowful honk-whine and shuts all the lights off. )
mister "some proficiency with water" nevuillette
But he's also keen to escape the trap they're in, so now isn't the time for a conversation. He's warned to stay back, yet there's really not much space to navigate in the slender vehicle, so he carefully edges around the man in an effort to slip back down the aisle to... the other side of the car. It's three steps maximum. Yes, he is going to get hit by some of the water.]
Please don't hold back on my account.
[Soon-to-be wet cat's famous last words.]
LISTEN....it's not very mindful or demure to be boastful 😔
once satisfied with the (meager) distance between himself and the gentleman in the car with him, neuvillette turns to face the door, raises one hand, and calls forth the power of the tides.
it certainly is enough to blast the door right off its hinges, but the the backlash nearly floods the interior of the car before it drains back out. the upholstery is soaked, their robes completely drenched through, their hair clinging to their faces, but surely all of it is worth the price of freedom. )
such a proper french gentleman 😔
Sunday has... regrets, standing there drenched, meager robe clinging to his body. Even the wings beside his ears have drooped, once-fluffy feathers now dripping onto his shoulders in that pure encapsulation of a drowned bird. It's miserable. He is suddenly cold, but he doesn't shiver, just... picks up his feet and walks barefoot toward the door, heels squishing wetly on the drenched carpet.
It was a miraculous display of power, one that he will linger on wondrously for a while — but he can't quite keep the woe out of his expression in the moment.]
I offer my thanks. [Sadly.] Though, I never did ask your name. I am Sunday — how should I address you?
no subject
still, he supposes most others are not as fond of water as he is, and it is not exactly warm down in the strange holding area they've found themselves in, once neuvillette clambers out and takes a look around. only concrete walls and more of the strange vehicles as far as the eye can see.
he's preoccupied with taking in their surroundings, so his replies come half-hearted and distracted. )
You may call me Neuvillette.
( normally he would be a touch more courteous than this, but normally he doesn't go around being kidnapped from his rooms without warning and stuffed into a garish sparkly robe. the words HOT STUFF are emblazoned onto the back. )
We should—
( sunday's saving grace comes in the form of the valet, who scuttles over jaw agape only to scurry away again with a quick wait right here!. neuvillette turns, raises his brows at sunday('s sad, pathetic figure).
should they wait? )
no subject
Mr. Neuvillette.
[HOT STUFF... Poor man. Should Sunday tell him? Before he can make a decision the valet appears, then immediately races off.]
Hm. If we wait, he might be able to provide us more information on our circumstances. [NPC exposition we can handwave.] But I won't stop you if you choose to leave and investigate the area yourself. You have no reason to stay with me. And you seem quite capable of defending yourself, if that need arises.
[With that water cannon... Sunday is just a weak little guy in comparison. As he waits, he starts wringing out the bottom of his drenched robe, trying to preserve some Dignity.]
no subject
the option to investigate is certainly appealing, especially while they seem to be relatively unguarded. but if this was indeed some sort of kidnapping, then the gentleman next to him is as much a victim in all of this as he. he cannot simply leave the man alone. though now that he takes the time to properly look at sunday, dripping puddles of water all over the ground, contrition ripples through his voice. )
My apologies. You must be uncomfortable after so much water.
( not all enjoy walking through the rain without an umbrella as he does, nor find comfort in the warm embrace of the deep ocean currents. )
Please, allow me.
( water giveth and water taketh away...or in this case, it's the hydro dragon, once again stretching out one bare hand to summon the water forth. the moisture separates from sunday's robe and hair and soggy little wing-feathers, almost as though pulled by some unseen force. it gathers, forming a small roiling ball of water, before splattering harmlessly onto the ground.
all done!
and there, in the distance, the sound of footsteps and squeaky wheels echoing off the concrete of the parking garage. it seems the valet has returned with a rack of clothing in tow. )
no subject
Sunday is shocked by the casual display of power. One moment he's a sopping wet cat and the next — it is like the water never touched him. He watches that ball of water, like a blue marble held aloft, and then it splashes to the ground, sluicing across concrete in a wet splash.]
That was... incredible.
[It is on the tip of his tongue to ask questions in the wake of his own fierce curiosity, but too soon the valet has returned, bowing profusely, apologies spilling out of his mouth. No one ever comes down here, the man tells them, pushing the rack of clothes forward. Here, where? Forgive me, sirs, I don't have much to offer you. Sunday's puzzlement gets the better of him.]
Could you please tell us where we are? I apologize, our heads are a bit — foggy. We woke without much memory of our circumstances. Anything would help.
[Golden Peacock, 5-star Resort and Casino! The valet points to the Watches on their wrists. Everything you need to know's in there. Go ahead and take whatever clothes you want! On the House. Now excuse me, got to hurry! And he's off, racing to the next guests who need him.
A bit skeptically, Sunday turns his attention to the clothes, then to Neuvillette.]
Why don't you get dressed and I will investigate these... devices, in the meantime? [Ahem.] I'll turn away for your privacy.
no subject
which means they will need to leave this place, and that means sunday's suggestion is the most pragmatic one at the moment. although. neuvillette gestures towards the rack of clothing. )
Are you certain you wouldn't prefer to change first, Mr. Sunday? You looked rather uncomfortable earlier.
( you know. when he was sopping wet. )
no subject
It's nothing I can't stand. Besides, with your help, I am no longer soaking wet.
[A bit of a charitable interpretation, since Neuvillette was the reason he became a drowned rat in the first place.]
How about we both change together? Facing away, of course. I don't mean to invade your privacy. Our circumstances are difficult enough at the moment.
no subject
but the compromise is acceptable and he nods once in the affirmative, appending a quick very well, before turning towards the creaky clothing rack and sorting through the options hung up for display. high collars, ruffled sleeves, all similar to the fashion he usually wears, though the fabric itself is stiff underneath his fingers and a touch dusty as well.
a small moth flies out from underneath one coat lapel, careening past sunday's ear before vanishing in the dim light. neuvillette frowns. )
It seems as though these have not been worn for some time.
( might there be mold growing on the inside of some of them....? hopefully not. with a shirt and pair of slacks pulled off the rack, he gets to work changing. turned away from sunday, of course. )
no subject
After selecting his own outfit from the available options — the least ruffled and gaudy he can find, a black bowtie suit — he turns his back as well and begins changing. He opens his robe and shivers at a cold draft of air, recognizing how much worse this would be if he was still wet.]
I suppose of anyone else I could have woken up in a strange new world with, I'm glad it was such agreeable company.
[He can be self-reflective, and in the past, he can't say that he would have felt agreeable amongst so many unknowns. Mr. Neuvillette is naturally calm; that does seem to help.]
no subject
I am not usually described as such.
( reserved, aloof, impartial, impersonal, unfeeling, on the other hand....but he is grateful for sunday's even temperament in the face of these unique circumstances, and the steadiness of both his tone and bearing. )
In that case, I must also thank you for being equally agreeable company.
( it could be much worse. it could be furina here with him, voice loud and screeching as she oscillates between panic and dramatic indignation. )
Do you typically find yourself waking in strange vehicles with strange company, Mr. Sunday?
no subject
Here, there's almost a kind of freedom in being able to choose his own company.]
Then we have that in common. [Stuffy, awkward, proper bureaucrats that they are...] And no, not usually. I had — ah, certain standing that would have made it difficult to encounter such unusual situations. My days were quite regimented.
[Local control freak in recovery at your service. He laughs, more at himself, pulling on the starchy white shirt and buttoning it up with nimble fingers.]
I had a feeling something like this might happen eventually. Not so specific, but... equally out of the ordinary. I left my previous position, you see. What about yourself, Mr. Neuvillette?