【 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.
[A groan on the cusp of satisfied and pained rumbles in Charlie's throat, pitched tenor like his voice. His relationship with hands on his body had begun with getting beat up in the not-nice way. This isn't a morbid tale; he enjoyed the roughhousing. A massage doesn't possess the same passion a pissed off brother does. This is a lose kind of association, the kind it's easy to not even notice.
The connection between liking hands on his body and why need not be strained.
His spine arcs, shoulders pressing back into his prince's grasp. Silently permitting - demanding? - that he press harder.] At least they gave you a futon!
My first bed was a murphy. You know those? The ones that fold in-and-out of the wall. [Charlie raises a hand to mimic the raising and lowering of the bed. He's jumping forward decades, foregoing details that would certainly sour his and any empath's mood.] So.
You're my... adopted prince? Wanna tell me about the King and Queen? [It's a good bit.]
Sure, I've seen them before. I love my bed too much to think about putting it away, myself.
[ Kizuna's got adept hands, one that have slipped in and out of any number of endeavors like a ghost casts itself through possessions. That helps him in realizing he can't put that much force behind the negligible surface area of his thumbs (and other fingers...) so. Drawing his touch around, lining things up — Kizuna's touch lifts away briefly before it's coming back down as his elbow jammed right at a nerve point. He puts his weight behind it, even! ]
And there's one place that the storybooks differ from, in any case. Orphanages aren't all that bad at home. No wicked stepmothers. A normal amount of chores. I didn't want for much...
[ Or anything, really. But he feels the surface tension ripple beneath small talk and so follows suit into idleness, contented with that choice. ]
The adoptive king never married! He's too busy neglecting his throne to become a private investigator.
[There is no air in Charlie's lungs, so the sound that comes out of his throat - caught between a laugh and surprise - is a pathetic, strangled wheeze. His reaction inspires another laugh, this one only nominally less wretched than the first.
His body stretches in disarray, shoulders pressing back into the much-desired pressure and head shaking to regain composure.
He'd just meant to chuckle lightly at the guy's attachment to his bed!] -damn it! [At least he can still talk. Charlie can always talk.]
Eh, thrones are overrated. [Thrones are a good way to get yourself killed. They're not debating the merit of becoming a king, there's no room in their comfortable little fantasy for concern. Everything here is a plush bed and a lively orphanage. Fairy tales.] I'd prefer to be a private investigator, too. What about you?
Romance or bein' a nosy little shi- [Wait] prince? [The bit must go on.]
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peacockstop2025-01-15 09:00 pm
no subject
The connection between liking hands on his body and why need not be strained.
His spine arcs, shoulders pressing back into his prince's grasp. Silently permitting - demanding? - that he press harder.] At least they gave you a futon!
My first bed was a murphy. You know those? The ones that fold in-and-out of the wall. [Charlie raises a hand to mimic the raising and lowering of the bed. He's jumping forward decades, foregoing details that would certainly sour his and any empath's mood.] So.
You're my... adopted prince? Wanna tell me about the King and Queen? [It's a good bit.]
no subject
[ Kizuna's got adept hands, one that have slipped in and out of any number of endeavors like a ghost casts itself through possessions. That helps him in realizing he can't put that much force behind the negligible surface area of his thumbs (and other fingers...) so. Drawing his touch around, lining things up — Kizuna's touch lifts away briefly before it's coming back down as his elbow jammed right at a nerve point. He puts his weight behind it, even! ]
And there's one place that the storybooks differ from, in any case. Orphanages aren't all that bad at home. No wicked stepmothers. A normal amount of chores. I didn't want for much...
[ Or anything, really. But he feels the surface tension ripple beneath small talk and so follows suit into idleness, contented with that choice. ]
The adoptive king never married! He's too busy neglecting his throne to become a private investigator.
no subject
His body stretches in disarray, shoulders pressing back into the much-desired pressure and head shaking to regain composure.
He'd just meant to chuckle lightly at the guy's attachment to his bed!] -damn it! [At least he can still talk. Charlie can always talk.]
Eh, thrones are overrated. [Thrones are a good way to get yourself killed. They're not debating the merit of becoming a king, there's no room in their comfortable little fantasy for concern. Everything here is a plush bed and a lively orphanage. Fairy tales.] I'd prefer to be a private investigator, too. What about you?
Romance or bein' a nosy little shi- [Wait] prince? [The bit must go on.]
no subject