【 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.
Weirdly far more embarrassing than if the dice had given them something blatantly sexual instead. Something about the subtly teasing nature of it has Broca looking slightly out of sorts by the end, making a quiet but uncertain sound in response to the thanks, and picking up the dice as his ears twist to the sides slightly.
Stupid, but tolerable. It's still not the worst thing offered here.
Speaking of stupid, the next roll isn't going to be much better: slap neck.
Broca looks up uncertainly at Nehan, and while the gaudy suit some attendee or other shuffled him into his covering his body completely, it's still clear the stiff fabric around his bicep is straining against the seams each time he moves in a way that causes an involuntary flex, so... ]
[ Well. This isn't exactly what he'd expected from such a tough-looking guy. But he doesn't mind the clear little tells of embarrassment, sparing him a callout (for now).
Because he has to brace for the next die roll anyway. He very obviously eyes how Broca's muscles are packed into that suit like an overstuffed sardine can, the fabric gathered tight around his arm, but then just pushes some hair off his own neck so it doesn't get pinched. ]
Don't worry, I can take some punishment.
[ A reassurance of his own, because he's aware of how he looks. He doesn't cut an intimidating figure, and erunes favor shirts with their sides and backs exposed—his shows off the faint outline of his ribs. But there's scars there, too. He's not entirely made of glass.
Besides, it isn't like there's bonus points here for grievous injury. ]
[ The lack of (immediate) callout is appreciated at least. While wild sex in the middle of the hallway won't have him batting an eye to stumble across (or be caught in the act of), it really is the strangest, smallest things that will bother him.
Embarrassed or not, he's not actually looking to seek revenge on something he signed off on Nehan doing, so while the scars do tip him off that Nehan has been through something worse than a little slap to the neck, he's not that interested in causing the guy pain. He's been pleasant enough to deal with so far, so...
Despite the curt, serious nod Broca gives him, he still steels himself to make sure he doesn't hit too hard as he pulls his hand back and--
... Does, in fact, smack loud enough for the sound to ring through their section of casino for a moment.
That was still Broca pulling his punches though, and he looks a little uncertain, ears pinning back flat against his head as he lowers his hand. ]
[ OKAY............ Ow. His reaction is ow. He's not the bulkiest guy, so he bobs over to one side, ears standing straight up as he flinches, the short fur on them frizzling up like a startled cat.
But they twitch and settle again when he sways back to center. The bark is worse than the bite—more surprise and noise than horrible pain. He still rubs his neck, looking flatly at Broca. ]
...So that's you holding back, huh.
[ Some people really get all the muscle density in this hell of a world. ]
[ In his defense he does look sheepish and apologetic about it.
... It's not much of a defense, but it is there.
It'll probably leave a red mark, but it's not like there is going to be lasting neck damage from a little hit like that. Still, Broca's own ears stay flattened back, and his eyes close in embarrassment. He looks properly chastised by all of this. ]
[ Broca's not an erune, but the kemonomimi body language is almost the same across the board. It doesn't matter what his expression is when his ears give away the full story; he looks so properly abashed that there's no point in raising a fuss. Besides, it probably bothers Nehan less. ]
It's fine. That's the point of the game.
[ And he's very, very familiar with people who don't know their own ability. He pinches his sweater collar further up his neck and resorts to casual bullying. ]
Though even kids can control the strength of their paws.
[ Meanwhile, he grabs the dice again to give them another toss. They rattle across the table and flash a new pair of numbers. 7, 3. Fondle, and chest. ]
[ Given Broca's own failure to properly judge what was hard enough to count, and still soft enough to not at least sound like it stung, he'll take the bullying with only mild wordless grumbling. This one is on him, so he can't really fault Nehan for giving him shit now. It doesn't help that Terrans are all a bit absurd in terms of strength compared to people from other planets, and a guy like Broca, still bulkier than most Terrans he knows, really has too much power behind those muscles.
He'll drop his hands into his lap where they can do no more damage, and also conveniently leaves him nice and open to the next set of dice based instructions.
He looks at the number, and nods slowly with a neutral expression on his face. That seems more in line with what the House really wants out of this. A little fun and games, but at the end still going towards something inappropriate. Nothing about his blank expression suggests he's surprised or bothered by it, though he does glance up at Nehan's face to gauge his reaction. It's tame for the Golden Peacock, but the guy is also new. ]
[ Likewise, Nehan isn't as affected as he should be. Or more aptly, this isn't the time and place to be affected. A hotel that steals its guests away, a lounge full of unknowns, a place he's had days rather than months to adjust to—a pair of eyes on him, searching. Broca seems earnest, but he's still a stranger. Intent can't be gauged out by a few seemingly bashful ear flicks.
So he scoots forward a little to do the deed as soon as he's given the opening, returning a studious gaze of his own, staid. Curious, at worst. ]
You're not bothered at all?
[ A silly, overdrawn slap to the neck is easier to deal with than a more intent touch, he thinks. He gently pushes his fingertips to Broca's sternum. Follows the outline of bone towards muscle, spreading out, tracing the direction of the sinew. ]
Have you been here that long, or is this just your nature?
[ So they're about the same in that way, are they? Nehan moves closer, and Broca's expression stays steady even as the hand reaches out to rest against his sternum and fingers begin to trace over the muscle there.
Quick motions towards him, unpredictable movements that might precede violence are something else. Broca would tense up, move back, maybe even lash out at something like that. The occasions that people moved like that towards here here at the Golden Peacock were few and are between though, and most touches were clear and predictable like Nehan's touch is now.
One of Broca's ears twitches at the question, a thoughtful frown tugging down the corners of his mouth at that question. ]
Second, I guess, but it'd be weird for someone to do this if it were anywhere else.
[ He can't imagine he'll ever play dirty dice again once he gets out.
And he still firmly believes he will, despite over a year of time contradicting that thought. ]
[ As "fun" as it all seems—glitz and glam and hedonism—he can't imagine staying here long. It all feels like a fever dream, ready to be broken in an instant when the heat clears.
But then there's people like this, who have been here long enough to find it all ordinary. Broca sounds disaffected to begin with, but it doesn't inspire confidence in their circumstances. Those are concerns for later, though—right now, he just focuses on following the swell of muscle under his fingertips, traveling over clothes. ]
True. I can't say I've ever played before, even with the sort of company I kept.
[ Which was sleazy criminals. He gives Broca's chest a squeeze for good measure before taking his hand back. ]
People must try to get a rise out of you all the time.
[ This seems like the kind of place where folks want to make a guy blush. ]
[ The fever breaking would be a blessing in so many ways. While there are a number of newer "guests" that still seem to have the drive and interest to get out, the long term residents have long since seemed to given up, and something to shake people to the core and make them push harder would be good.
But Nehan's not entirely wrong. While Broca's stomping around still looking for cracks in the wall (figurative or literal) to bust himself out of here, all the stuff that is tossed his way in the meantime does not tend to unsettle him in the way it probably should.
A big portion of that has to do with who he was before even coming here, but unless he'd actively been trying to hook up with a stranger in a seedy bar, he probably wouldn't let someone just reach over and casually fondle his chest. Here though, a flick of his ear is about all the party squeeze earns.
It's the words that seem to bother him more, his expression tightening and his tail flicking in agitation. ]
Some do.
[ It's not an easy task, and it's not always involving sex, but he knows his share of people who like to pester. ]
[ Nehan's not the type to rail against the confines of any cage he's put into. Besides, there is no great sense of urgency to get home, because the people he's left behind are surprisingly good at taking care of themselves, moreso than he'd think to have given them credit for once. But there is an... itch. An unsettled piece of him that chafes as he sits here, amidst all the excess and glamor.
He ignores it for now. It's easier, having someone around who reacts more than he does, deflecting the need to do so himself. He raises a brow with a muted amusement. ]
Go figure.
[ He can imagine the type. ]
Being annoying is an affectionate gesture, I'm sure. [ Said dryly. ] Your turn.
[ Irritation, frustration, exasperation... they're all easy things to pull out of Broca, even if other emotions and reactions aren't so easy to get out of him. Still, if his visible display of the agitation he feels can be of some help to Nehan, maybe it's doing someone some good.
It doesn't seem to be helping Broca himself much, unfortunately. ]
They should learn to show it in other ways.
[ He doesn't sound all that convinced that it's affectionate to begin with, though the main perpetrator is just twisted enough that he's starting to suspect is very well might be.
He'll let the dice fall onto the table between them. A clear 3 and 5: kiss mouth. Something that is both chaste and shockingly normal by the standards of this game.
Broca gestures silently for Nehan to lean towards him for this one. ]
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Weirdly far more embarrassing than if the dice had given them something blatantly sexual instead. Something about the subtly teasing nature of it has Broca looking slightly out of sorts by the end, making a quiet but uncertain sound in response to the thanks, and picking up the dice as his ears twist to the sides slightly.
Stupid, but tolerable. It's still not the worst thing offered here.
Speaking of stupid, the next roll isn't going to be much better: slap neck.
Broca looks up uncertainly at Nehan, and while the gaudy suit some attendee or other shuffled him into his covering his body completely, it's still clear the stiff fabric around his bicep is straining against the seams each time he moves in a way that causes an involuntary flex, so... ]
I'll pull my punches.
[ Reassurance in this case is probably nice. ]
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Because he has to brace for the next die roll anyway. He very obviously eyes how Broca's muscles are packed into that suit like an overstuffed sardine can, the fabric gathered tight around his arm, but then just pushes some hair off his own neck so it doesn't get pinched. ]
Don't worry, I can take some punishment.
[ A reassurance of his own, because he's aware of how he looks. He doesn't cut an intimidating figure, and erunes favor shirts with their sides and backs exposed—his shows off the faint outline of his ribs. But there's scars there, too. He's not entirely made of glass.
Besides, it isn't like there's bonus points here for grievous injury. ]
Make it count.
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Embarrassed or not, he's not actually looking to seek revenge on something he signed off on Nehan doing, so while the scars do tip him off that Nehan has been through something worse than a little slap to the neck, he's not that interested in causing the guy pain. He's been pleasant enough to deal with so far, so...
Despite the curt, serious nod Broca gives him, he still steels himself to make sure he doesn't hit too hard as he pulls his hand back and--
... Does, in fact, smack loud enough for the sound to ring through their section of casino for a moment.
That was still Broca pulling his punches though, and he looks a little uncertain, ears pinning back flat against his head as he lowers his hand. ]
Ah...
[ His bad? ]
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But they twitch and settle again when he sways back to center. The bark is worse than the bite—more surprise and noise than horrible pain. He still rubs his neck, looking flatly at Broca. ]
...So that's you holding back, huh.
[ Some people really get all the muscle density in this hell of a world. ]
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... It's not much of a defense, but it is there.
It'll probably leave a red mark, but it's not like there is going to be lasting neck damage from a little hit like that. Still, Broca's own ears stay flattened back, and his eyes close in embarrassment. He looks properly chastised by all of this. ]
Yeah...
[ His bad, man. ]
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It's fine. That's the point of the game.
[ And he's very, very familiar with people who don't know their own ability. He pinches his sweater collar further up his neck and resorts to casual bullying. ]
Though even kids can control the strength of their paws.
[ Meanwhile, he grabs the dice again to give them another toss. They rattle across the table and flash a new pair of numbers. 7, 3. Fondle, and chest. ]
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He'll drop his hands into his lap where they can do no more damage, and also conveniently leaves him nice and open to the next set of dice based instructions.
He looks at the number, and nods slowly with a neutral expression on his face. That seems more in line with what the House really wants out of this. A little fun and games, but at the end still going towards something inappropriate. Nothing about his blank expression suggests he's surprised or bothered by it, though he does glance up at Nehan's face to gauge his reaction. It's tame for the Golden Peacock, but the guy is also new. ]
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So he scoots forward a little to do the deed as soon as he's given the opening, returning a studious gaze of his own, staid. Curious, at worst. ]
You're not bothered at all?
[ A silly, overdrawn slap to the neck is easier to deal with than a more intent touch, he thinks. He gently pushes his fingertips to Broca's sternum. Follows the outline of bone towards muscle, spreading out, tracing the direction of the sinew. ]
Have you been here that long, or is this just your nature?
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Quick motions towards him, unpredictable movements that might precede violence are something else. Broca would tense up, move back, maybe even lash out at something like that. The occasions that people moved like that towards here here at the Golden Peacock were few and are between though, and most touches were clear and predictable like Nehan's touch is now.
One of Broca's ears twitches at the question, a thoughtful frown tugging down the corners of his mouth at that question. ]
Second, I guess, but it'd be weird for someone to do this if it were anywhere else.
[ He can't imagine he'll ever play dirty dice again once he gets out.
And he still firmly believes he will, despite over a year of time contradicting that thought. ]
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But then there's people like this, who have been here long enough to find it all ordinary. Broca sounds disaffected to begin with, but it doesn't inspire confidence in their circumstances. Those are concerns for later, though—right now, he just focuses on following the swell of muscle under his fingertips, traveling over clothes. ]
True. I can't say I've ever played before, even with the sort of company I kept.
[ Which was sleazy criminals. He gives Broca's chest a squeeze for good measure before taking his hand back. ]
People must try to get a rise out of you all the time.
[ This seems like the kind of place where folks want to make a guy blush. ]
no subject
But Nehan's not entirely wrong. While Broca's stomping around still looking for cracks in the wall (figurative or literal) to bust himself out of here, all the stuff that is tossed his way in the meantime does not tend to unsettle him in the way it probably should.
A big portion of that has to do with who he was before even coming here, but unless he'd actively been trying to hook up with a stranger in a seedy bar, he probably wouldn't let someone just reach over and casually fondle his chest. Here though, a flick of his ear is about all the party squeeze earns.
It's the words that seem to bother him more, his expression tightening and his tail flicking in agitation. ]
Some do.
[ It's not an easy task, and it's not always involving sex, but he knows his share of people who like to pester. ]
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He ignores it for now. It's easier, having someone around who reacts more than he does, deflecting the need to do so himself. He raises a brow with a muted amusement. ]
Go figure.
[ He can imagine the type. ]
Being annoying is an affectionate gesture, I'm sure. [ Said dryly. ] Your turn.
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It doesn't seem to be helping Broca himself much, unfortunately. ]
They should learn to show it in other ways.
[ He doesn't sound all that convinced that it's affectionate to begin with, though the main perpetrator is just twisted enough that he's starting to suspect is very well might be.
He'll let the dice fall onto the table between them. A clear 3 and 5: kiss mouth. Something that is both chaste and shockingly normal by the standards of this game.
Broca gestures silently for Nehan to lean towards him for this one. ]