【 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.
Leaving that damn party had been impossible, with every attempt to escape 168 hours of hell thwarted by one thing or another. Endless socialization is a thousand times worse than fighting demons; by the time they finally ended the party, he had gone without sleep for so long that he was seeing double.
Genya groans, smothering his face into his pillow and turning over in a bodily toss to burrow into the blankets. Comfortable familiar room and comfortable familiar bed. Comfortable familiar warm body—wait, what the fuck?
The youth’s eyes shoot open in alarm after snuggling against someone else. Who???? In his bed????? He doesn’t even remember—!?
He sits up abruptly, picture of a cat whose tail has been stepped on. Who!!!!!!! ]
[ in like a lion, out like a lamb. the glitz and glam had shooting star-rocketed right out of him, going going going until gone. dizzying arrays of sparkling lights, energizing smoke, tingling champagne, and the rollercoaster ride of big wins and bigger losses exchanged for this gem of peace and quiet tucked away in some room or another. earned but not deserved, his broad and strong form gone to sweet curve in the thin white sheet draped over him Genya disturbs as he shoots up like he’s been shot at, positing dark skin and darker shadows where he’s bare and intimate against not just the fabric… ]
[ but Genya’s skin, too, warmed and rouged with the print of where his cheek had been on a deep, x-scarred chest. if that doesn’t bring familiarity back from the deep recesses of absenteeism, perhaps the elegant-but-messy fall and curl of hair freed from its usual bun cascading down the pillow and around his face would be easy to envision wet and limp in a bath’s humidity, as an assist. ]
[ for Getou, he doesn’t immediately rise, though the sudden flux of cool air where once a body was pressed and a sheet embraced them both comes with a vocalized alert: a gasp and moan that are just suggestive enough as he turns into it. a stretching hand reaches over the dent of heat next to him that the slayer’s body has left behind, plaintive yearning that comes out in instinct not so easily displayed in the daylight… ]
[ only to still again, mouth peacefully agape and that handsome face relaxed, defenseless. if once he was a devil on Genya’s shoulder, does the absence of his antics make for something beguiling and haloed? to let the opportunity pass? only Genya can decide. ]
[ A rough hand slaps across his own mouth to curb the scream ready to rip from his throat. The adrenaline of terror without any of the fear rockets through him, heart thunderous and fine hairs standing on end. This is someone he knows too well; a man doesn’t forget the first person to grab his dick. Genya stares, eyes large and adam’s apple quivering, at the culprit of a months long sexuality crisis who had then flounced off without taking any responsibility for it. It’s been a long time.
Yet here he is now. Inky hair falls across wheat skin and white sheets in dizzying contrast. The noise that rumbles from the other man hikes Genya’s pulse in a way that has him teetering toward the edge of the bed, putting distance between them. A strange emotion wells, one between wanting to touch him gently and choke the life out of him, a conundrum of temporary paralysis.
Pride won’t allow him to leave. It’s his room, goddamn it, and he won’t let some frighteningly hot guy send him running. Not this time.
One fluffy pillow rains down with hell’s (horny) fury upon the beguiling and haloed beauty. The compromise between tenderness and violence: beating him up, lightly. ]
Oi, oi! Wake up already, [ he doesn’t even pause before purposely butchering the other teen’s name—he can’t know that Genya’s thought about him so much that it’s been well-carved into his memory even after all this time, ] Getou Subooboo. What the hell are you doin’ here!?
[ Nice. This is definitely how you’re supposed to treat people you have an angry, unwanted crush on. ]
[ the silken slowness of a restful morning slip away silverfish-quick, but the laughter left in the wake rises out of him suspiciously fast. Genya's grip on the pillow comes from swatting down justice to meanly, inexorably linked by Getou's own hand — ]
[ and as he pounces, sending them both pitching onto the mattress, that pillow becomes the only thing separating two bare, beating chests, and the inequal angles they're stretched in the only thing keeping their hips apart. Getou smiles with a low hum, bleary-eyed gaze a hungry half-lid full of warmth, ignorant of the few tiny tucks of explosively-soft down feather hooked on threads of his hair. ]
Shi- Shina~azugawa-kun. [ what could be a struggle to remember reveals itself as a less personal slight: his breath and tongue are well-liquored. ] Hi. Did you miss me?
[ a rhetorical question, his grin hiding behind a head dropped to chest, nuzzling his cheek into well-scarred skin, their shapes not incomparable. he's closing in, sighing into the heat of his body as one would a hot bath to sore muscles after a hard day's training. ]
Don't go, you're so warm. [ and he can't remember the last time he felt warm. ]
[ A yelp slips when the other teen springs to life. Genya ends up on his back after an awkward toss of limbs, heart beating painfully fast as he stares stupidly up at the sight of a morning-kissed Getou. He can’t stop pinballing between points worthy of hyper-fixation, from that cute grin to the way feathers cling to errant strands.
Distance and time had been kind. They had allowed him to forget just how devastatingly attractive this guy really is. Now, not only is it right in his face, it’s on top of him with only a dying pillow between them for modesty. Genya’s immediate instinct is to shove the other boy off of him, but he stops short—a hand hovers over the crown of Getou’s head. ]
You… [ he swallows, trying to soothe the grit in his throat, ] Stupid, where were you? I was worried.
[ It’s honest, despite himself. Getou had been one of the first people he met in this place, and not to mention—the first person to ever touch him as though they wanted him. Even if that encounter is still, by all accounts, fucking weird, his heart softens. That hand finally falls to comb through that messy hair and gently shake off some feather-fuzz. ]
If you’re cold, cover up more. Don’t get sick. [ he gropes out with his free arm to drag the abused comforter over Getou, and by extension, himself. ] Where would I even go, this is my room…
[ As if that’s the reason why he’s tucking Getou in warmly against himself. ]
[ a strangeness there makes his smile fall, expression carefully blank as he takes in Genya's. worried? he hadn't thought he'd left enough of an impression on anyone to warrant something like that, let alone this guy. from just a little teasing, it makes it so easy to smell the ripe, pulsing blood beneath, a heart barely concealed beneath the sternum; he may as well be watching it throb against the flesh, eager to be torn open and swallowed. he licks his lips. it isn't salacious so much as it is unconscious, a wetting of a dry seam, but his pupils dilate and darken his eyes to an earthy warmth. ]
[ he's always been the provider, the umbrella in the rain, the blanket pulled over. it's odd for someone to do it to him without request, unusual to feel someone else's rough and broad calluses, for warmth to cradle over him and offer it. newness is a plangent hum in his chest, and somehow — regret follows its echo. ]
[ Genya is soft and tender beneath that wall of muscle. he really shouldn't have teased him too hard. ]
You could've found me, if you wanted to. [ it's not an accusation — just a way of explaining where he'd been without having to say it. don't make him say it. hard truth to hide naked as they are together now, a patch of flesh on his muscled forearm receded to reveal marble. a beat more, and the frenetic energy of a drunk gone pacified dissipates as he lays his cheek down on Genya's chest. the strong, steady drum of one against another, beat of pulse against inner ear. his eyes slip lower. ] If I'm sick, will you take care of me? Shinazugawa-kun.
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peacockstop2025-01-15 09:00 pm
wildcarding some aftercare 😌
Leaving that damn party had been impossible, with every attempt to escape 168 hours of hell thwarted by one thing or another. Endless socialization is a thousand times worse than fighting demons; by the time they finally ended the party, he had gone without sleep for so long that he was seeing double.
Genya groans, smothering his face into his pillow and turning over in a bodily toss to burrow into the blankets. Comfortable familiar room and comfortable familiar bed. Comfortable familiar warm body—wait, what the fuck?
The youth’s eyes shoot open in alarm after snuggling against someone else. Who???? In his bed????? He doesn’t even remember—!?
He sits up abruptly, picture of a cat whose tail has been stepped on. Who!!!!!!! ]
we're so back baby
[ but Genya’s skin, too, warmed and rouged with the print of where his cheek had been on a deep, x-scarred chest. if that doesn’t bring familiarity back from the deep recesses of absenteeism, perhaps the elegant-but-messy fall and curl of hair freed from its usual bun cascading down the pillow and around his face would be easy to envision wet and limp in a bath’s humidity, as an assist. ]
[ for Getou, he doesn’t immediately rise, though the sudden flux of cool air where once a body was pressed and a sheet embraced them both comes with a vocalized alert: a gasp and moan that are just suggestive enough as he turns into it. a stretching hand reaches over the dent of heat next to him that the slayer’s body has left behind, plaintive yearning that comes out in instinct not so easily displayed in the daylight… ]
[ only to still again, mouth peacefully agape and that handsome face relaxed, defenseless. if once he was a devil on Genya’s shoulder, does the absence of his antics make for something beguiling and haloed? to let the opportunity pass? only Genya can decide. ]
no subject
Yet here he is now. Inky hair falls across wheat skin and white sheets in dizzying contrast. The noise that rumbles from the other man hikes Genya’s pulse in a way that has him teetering toward the edge of the bed, putting distance between them. A strange emotion wells, one between wanting to touch him gently and choke the life out of him, a conundrum of temporary paralysis.
Pride won’t allow him to leave. It’s his room, goddamn it, and he won’t let some frighteningly hot guy send him running. Not this time.
One fluffy pillow rains down with hell’s (horny) fury upon the beguiling and haloed beauty. The compromise between tenderness and violence: beating him up, lightly. ]
Oi, oi! Wake up already, [ he doesn’t even pause before purposely butchering the other teen’s name—he can’t know that Genya’s thought about him so much that it’s been well-carved into his memory even after all this time, ] Getou Subooboo. What the hell are you doin’ here!?
[ Nice. This is definitely how you’re supposed to treat people you have an angry, unwanted crush on. ]
no subject
[ and as he pounces, sending them both pitching onto the mattress, that pillow becomes the only thing separating two bare, beating chests, and the inequal angles they're stretched in the only thing keeping their hips apart. Getou smiles with a low hum, bleary-eyed gaze a hungry half-lid full of warmth, ignorant of the few tiny tucks of explosively-soft down feather hooked on threads of his hair. ]
Shi- Shina~azugawa-kun. [ what could be a struggle to remember reveals itself as a less personal slight: his breath and tongue are well-liquored. ] Hi. Did you miss me?
[ a rhetorical question, his grin hiding behind a head dropped to chest, nuzzling his cheek into well-scarred skin, their shapes not incomparable. he's closing in, sighing into the heat of his body as one would a hot bath to sore muscles after a hard day's training. ]
Don't go, you're so warm. [ and he can't remember the last time he felt warm. ]
no subject
Distance and time had been kind. They had allowed him to forget just how devastatingly attractive this guy really is. Now, not only is it right in his face, it’s on top of him with only a dying pillow between them for modesty. Genya’s immediate instinct is to shove the other boy off of him, but he stops short—a hand hovers over the crown of Getou’s head. ]
You… [ he swallows, trying to soothe the grit in his throat, ] Stupid, where were you? I was worried.
[ It’s honest, despite himself. Getou had been one of the first people he met in this place, and not to mention—the first person to ever touch him as though they wanted him. Even if that encounter is still, by all accounts, fucking weird, his heart softens. That hand finally falls to comb through that messy hair and gently shake off some feather-fuzz. ]
If you’re cold, cover up more. Don’t get sick. [ he gropes out with his free arm to drag the abused comforter over Getou, and by extension, himself. ] Where would I even go, this is my room…
[ As if that’s the reason why he’s tucking Getou in warmly against himself. ]
no subject
[ he's always been the provider, the umbrella in the rain, the blanket pulled over. it's odd for someone to do it to him without request, unusual to feel someone else's rough and broad calluses, for warmth to cradle over him and offer it. newness is a plangent hum in his chest, and somehow — regret follows its echo. ]
[ Genya is soft and tender beneath that wall of muscle. he really shouldn't have teased him too hard. ]
You could've found me, if you wanted to. [ it's not an accusation — just a way of explaining where he'd been without having to say it. don't make him say it. hard truth to hide naked as they are together now, a patch of flesh on his muscled forearm receded to reveal marble. a beat more, and the frenetic energy of a drunk gone pacified dissipates as he lays his cheek down on Genya's chest. the strong, steady drum of one against another, beat of pulse against inner ear. his eyes slip lower. ] If I'm sick, will you take care of me? Shinazugawa-kun.
no subject