【 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.
[ molasses. the amber colors, sun-dripping warmth, the pace with which he makes the decision that just almost dries up even Getou’s great well of patience — and then the acquiescence. he doesn’t quash the appreciative quirk of his mouth, nor the way his eyes dance over all that is Quincy: hulking, bulk barely fettered away in clothing he peels back, the unique jewelry that adorns from finger to forearm. there’s something so anachronistic about it, about him, that Getou can’t help but want to be immersed in the mystery. ]
[ and that stoic expression… what absolute catnip. he wants to watch it break. ]
Is “here” a problem? [ its inquiry is genuine; he’s not such a pusher that he would disregard the preference, but what flesh doesn’t feel the heat of his gaze is instead sensitized by the oh-so-faint trickle of pinions: Quincy had gestured with his chin and it’s here that they touch down, dancing on invisible air currents and seemingly drawn to the stickiness of skin. right down the center, the tickling tips move over a thick neck, adams apple, between the divot of strong collarbones. bold colors that look good next to each other, the blush-love red bringing out all of that saturation. ]
[ it isn’t so much that he actually has the desire to turn this into a public act; only that the game of chicken is full of bawdy enticement, and the first leverage he volleys against that immaculate poker face. the swell of a deep barreled chest parted open holds his attention as he moves over it with such extremely gentle care… ]
I’m not the only one looking at you like this, can’t you tell? [ just the only one, it seems, brave enough to act on it, and Getou has always considered himself a magnanimous man of the people. ]
[ Feathers dance across sun-warmed skin, along dramatic lines and firm muscle. The hulking man’s expression does not change. Thin lips remain in a line and his handsome brow remains relaxed, though he does exhale slowly through his nose. The only true sign of affectation is the flutter of light eyelashes; Quincy’s lids lower over darkening gold, red bleeding into honeyrich shade.
Then, he tilts his head. Golden strands fall across his forehead, slightly mussed, as he regards the younger man with a half-lidded stare. The too-small shirt now hangs loose on his large frame, revealing a long stretch of solid chest and abdomen, right down to a diamond-cut swimline that quietly dips beneath the belt. Thoughts swirl, but the man once again opts to remain taciturn, ]
I don’t care.
[ Darkened eyes absorb only one reflection; the shape of the younger man in front of him and his toy. He does not expound the full meaning behind his few words—that it’s a hassle, that he doesn’t think about the gazes of other guests, or that his partner is the only one that matters once he’s agreed to an encounter—and instead slowly reaches forth that gemstone-embedded hand. Large fingers roughened from work catch the end of a stray black lock. Quietly, the forest guardian slides it over his palm, thumb rubbing against its end with care. A gentle caress that borders on worshipful before he allows it fall back against the younger man’s shoulder.
The other guests watch, captured by the atmosphere between them. Their greedy eyes stare daggers, as if wanting to hack the both of them open right in the center of public room. Quincy remains unflustered. ]
… If it’s what you want, [ he exhales, ] I’ll do it.
[ bluff called, line drawn. Getou doesn’t quiver an inch as the caress of it moves over his scalp — but privately, in the confined starch of a suit and jacket, every hair on his arms stands at attention, flesh pebbling with interest. honey of his own falling away with dilating pupils sweetens his gaze all the same, but the only one who’s allowed to smell it on him is standing in front of him. ]
[ not for long. ]
[ the toy lowers, following the division it had started, sensation becoming fuller as it presses the valley closer to what beats below, split of diaphragm, a thick trunk of abs divided in half. it hits the navel, lower, and flips then as it meets the seam of slacks. dancing between fingertips, the paddled end boasting a closure he amuses himself by fastening around the belt looped around him with an arrangement that takes him entirely too little time to figure out… and he’s all smiles when he turns and gives his makeshift leash a tug from the feathered end. Quincy’s hips are forced to follow suit first — much to the chagrin of a groaning gaggle of disgruntled gazers. ]
[ like a panther proud of the canary in its teeth, he parades his catch down Slut Alley, simultaneously taking the arguably most attractive men in the room off the menu, one from each category. bad luck for anyone who isn’t either of them. the jealousy lasts until Getou guides him through a silvery curtain and a dazzling, studded door; pleasures and attentions are quick and fleeting, appetites voracious. faultless, when he feels his own beginning to percolate between opportunity, interest, and a few glasses of bubbly. is this really the extent of his self control? his time spent as a statue has made him soft, quick to catch cold. ]
[ back pressing to the door to shut it after they’ve both passed the threshold, he traps Quincy into the decadent, disco-silver room. mirrors adorn the ceiling and the two side walls, encasing them in quicksilvery reflections; candles at the bedside tables flicker into hanging ornaments of mirror and crystal, sending orange-warm pockets of sunbursting scattered throughout the room. it’s warm in all ways, intimate… a decadent malaise that makes him feel empowered, indulgent, indolent. he smiles. ]
Well? [ goading, lashes and voice dropped low, youthful but gritty and purred. ] “If it’s what I want…” I wanted you alone, more.
[ bright eyes glimmer with the many embered reflections, eager and mischievous, greedy. ]
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peacockstop2025-01-15 09:00 pm
no subject
[ and that stoic expression… what absolute catnip. he wants to watch it break. ]
Is “here” a problem? [ its inquiry is genuine; he’s not such a pusher that he would disregard the preference, but what flesh doesn’t feel the heat of his gaze is instead sensitized by the oh-so-faint trickle of pinions: Quincy had gestured with his chin and it’s here that they touch down, dancing on invisible air currents and seemingly drawn to the stickiness of skin. right down the center, the tickling tips move over a thick neck, adams apple, between the divot of strong collarbones. bold colors that look good next to each other, the blush-love red bringing out all of that saturation. ]
[ it isn’t so much that he actually has the desire to turn this into a public act; only that the game of chicken is full of bawdy enticement, and the first leverage he volleys against that immaculate poker face. the swell of a deep barreled chest parted open holds his attention as he moves over it with such extremely gentle care… ]
I’m not the only one looking at you like this, can’t you tell? [ just the only one, it seems, brave enough to act on it, and Getou has always considered himself a magnanimous man of the people. ]
no subject
Then, he tilts his head. Golden strands fall across his forehead, slightly mussed, as he regards the younger man with a half-lidded stare. The too-small shirt now hangs loose on his large frame, revealing a long stretch of solid chest and abdomen, right down to a diamond-cut swimline that quietly dips beneath the belt. Thoughts swirl, but the man once again opts to remain taciturn, ]
I don’t care.
[ Darkened eyes absorb only one reflection; the shape of the younger man in front of him and his toy. He does not expound the full meaning behind his few words—that it’s a hassle, that he doesn’t think about the gazes of other guests, or that his partner is the only one that matters once he’s agreed to an encounter—and instead slowly reaches forth that gemstone-embedded hand. Large fingers roughened from work catch the end of a stray black lock. Quietly, the forest guardian slides it over his palm, thumb rubbing against its end with care. A gentle caress that borders on worshipful before he allows it fall back against the younger man’s shoulder.
The other guests watch, captured by the atmosphere between them. Their greedy eyes stare daggers, as if wanting to hack the both of them open right in the center of public room. Quincy remains unflustered. ]
… If it’s what you want, [ he exhales, ] I’ll do it.
no subject
[ not for long. ]
[ the toy lowers, following the division it had started, sensation becoming fuller as it presses the valley closer to what beats below, split of diaphragm, a thick trunk of abs divided in half. it hits the navel, lower, and flips then as it meets the seam of slacks. dancing between fingertips, the paddled end boasting a closure he amuses himself by fastening around the belt looped around him with an arrangement that takes him entirely too little time to figure out… and he’s all smiles when he turns and gives his makeshift leash a tug from the feathered end. Quincy’s hips are forced to follow suit first — much to the chagrin of a groaning gaggle of disgruntled gazers. ]
[ like a panther proud of the canary in its teeth, he parades his catch down Slut Alley, simultaneously taking the arguably most attractive men in the room off the menu, one from each category. bad luck for anyone who isn’t either of them. the jealousy lasts until Getou guides him through a silvery curtain and a dazzling, studded door; pleasures and attentions are quick and fleeting, appetites voracious. faultless, when he feels his own beginning to percolate between opportunity, interest, and a few glasses of bubbly. is this really the extent of his self control? his time spent as a statue has made him soft, quick to catch cold. ]
[ back pressing to the door to shut it after they’ve both passed the threshold, he traps Quincy into the decadent, disco-silver room. mirrors adorn the ceiling and the two side walls, encasing them in quicksilvery reflections; candles at the bedside tables flicker into hanging ornaments of mirror and crystal, sending orange-warm pockets of sunbursting scattered throughout the room. it’s warm in all ways, intimate… a decadent malaise that makes him feel empowered, indulgent, indolent. he smiles. ]
Well? [ goading, lashes and voice dropped low, youthful but gritty and purred. ] “If it’s what I want…” I wanted you alone, more.
[ bright eyes glimmer with the many embered reflections, eager and mischievous, greedy. ]
What else do I want?
no subject