【 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.
[ not to be some nationalist or speciesist or anything, because she’s not. the both of them have been scarred and wounded and near broken by the homeland, and yet… how completely twisted of her, to have thought the country and its ways inevitable and inescapable. all her life she’d helped texas, almost without a second thought, just about helping her escape while she herself sunk in the mud and just wanted texas to put an end to it before she could actually run free.
every touch, every squeeze pulls at her bastard heart that just about wanted one thing, one person all her life. but they might just be too different, because— ] If you’re not a wolf, what are you? I know what I am. You might not even believe in ‘truth’, because you kept running from everything. From friends, from the famiglia and country, from… maybe, from what you really think or want. [ her hand strokes into texas’ hair, an almost soothing gentleness, as affectionate as a lover’s. her sheer violence, but she’d so rarely ever bared it to texas outside of duels. maybe her heart is such a betrayer that she could still be kind or soft to her, though underneath it is the bitterness and blackness of covetousness. ]
You ran and I was thrown out, I’m a lone wolf but I’m still a wolf.
You still reject… everything. Maybe that’s your new method of turning tail.
(of them, texas was the one that knew the country would come back to haunt her. one day. she did make that deal with zaaro, she even waited for it. a small part of her hoped that gut feeling had been wrong. that she could have begun to let her guard drop, allow herself to attempt moving on while waiting for the inevitable. that didn't happen. what happened was the day did come for her, there was no hiding or pretending siracusa wasn't always on her heels in some parts of her thoughts. except there's more to what she was saying.
texas didn't consider herself a true wolf, but that was a given. she considers herself a wolf still (even a lone wolf despite her friends) regardless of everything. because she did have one way of thinking about herself.) I don't need to be a true wolf to be who I am. Still a wolf, still a lone wolf, with or without the country waxing poetic about me. (her hands only pause their threats for texas to reach and remove one glove from her costume, the leather covering her other hand takes its grip back up. rough, harsh along her thigh to part her legs nice and proper. to run her now bare hand upwards with a destination in mind, a rather obvious one in their back and forth when it stops short of her panties. they're still turned on.)
Or are you saying that I have to consider myself a true wolf to know who I am?
(the gentle strokes almost feel like a mockery when cellinia decides because lappland did take her ear, she can make the most of something from their positions. her teeth tease exposed skin, nips and nibbles, scrapes along lappland's neck through fabric. maybe even threatening to bite it off from flicks of her tongue to leave a trail of wet marks and teeth near latching down in something almost bloody.)
[ even in their little trip back to volsinii that was more than enough for her to press her ear back to the grapevine of the homeland. the discontent that the famiglia wolves had, the shackles or leashes of control the signora had over the famiglie, over the country. she’d never consider her a famiglia wolf again, but she knew there was a truth to, if anything, the wilderness or desolation that she turned to outside the city…
every touch, every nip of teeth has a shiver run harsh down her spine. her ears nearly bend back, a whine nearly rising in her throat; not even exactly from submission, just from… want. the desire of her entire life. she didn’t care about being a famiglia wolf, they were both born into the life, but she only wanted— ]
I’m saying, [ her voice a low snarl, her own hand suddenly fisting into texas’ hair, claws cutting towards her scalp. the other hand going to texas’ shirt to start cutting the threads of her buttons, to start undoing the vest and blouse with careless or deliberate shreds of her claws, ] You ran and you still run from everything. You’re a creature who gets going when the going gets tough! [ it’s accusatory, but it’s the truth. she knows it most of all of anyone in the world, as someone who’d always chased her. ] Real wolves might just fight and bite and tear the throat out of anyone who stands in their way—
You didn’t even do just that. [ that day, back before the fire. she’s over it, she really is, she could think as such but maybe she can’t help it if it’s the most defining moment of her life. just about the most beatific moment she thought she could give texas everything, and then she was rejected.
her clutch into texas’ hair tightens; as much as she wants to bite her neck, she wants, so badly, absolutely everything of texas and from texas. the infatuation that defined her. she’d fantasize of pinning texas down or having texas nip her neck just like this… it’s almost everything she wanted but accepted wouldn’t happen. she could imagine texas sinking her teeth in and her legs tremble with how much she desires just that—but her grip in texas’ hair holds her back from doing just that, yet. ]
(maybe she does want to sink her teeth in lappland's neck badly, maybe she wants to despite the tight grip on her hair. the way claws threaten to rake lines along her scalp, maybe she also wants to kiss her quiet and breathless. rut and grind against her gracelessly with where her emotions are; leave teeth marks along her breasts that won't be healing for a bit. the thoughts not leaving, it has yet to, even as her teeth are kept short of leaving the marks she craves from bites. so she doesn't. what she does instead is take part of the pale skin of lappland's neck along the column of her throat and sucks hard on it.
she's being quiet, but she's thinking. thinking while her bare hand teases, brushing against lappland's panties with an index finger along her cunt, her lips. the claws of that hand threatens to rip them open as if that's the intent while they press lightly into fabric.
her other hand (gloved and everything) reaches to tug down that evening down with other intentions of its own. to cup a breast and squeeze, brush thumb against her nipple roughly through her bra if she were wearing one. she noticed that, the shiver and the tremble in lappland's legs while fabric rips of her vest strings and blouse coming open. she can presume it's both careless and deliberate, just like the pressing of texas being more deliberate. that part has been clearer since they started, whenever her mouth lets go of lappland's neck. leaving behind a black-blue mark, nice and pretty for now. it'd only be one of many.) Constant violence doesn't do anything, either. Just like how me running away doesn't. So maybe I do run away from talking about it, from anything remotely near remembering. (because that's how she's been. avoiding speaking about it, conversations that she should have been having by burying herself in something or other as a means of not thinking. that only worsened during her stay.)
But do you really think it'd be worth me being that angry again? The way that I was in Volsinii near the end as I kept watching the way they used, abused, and did everything they could to claim a win at the cost of multiple lives?
Or the way that I felt it after the fire? (the words are hummed out, again, her lips take another patch of skin. another hard suckle and her tongue brushing along it slowly. to taste her, to leave those bruises. the leather fabric of her gloved hand brushes along more pale skin with each squeeze, each passing second getting rougher. the scents getting more obvious and thicker from texas, she might be considering ignoring the game and playing it. not the way they intended, anyway.)
no subject
every touch, every squeeze pulls at her bastard heart that just about wanted one thing, one person all her life. but they might just be too different, because— ] If you’re not a wolf, what are you? I know what I am. You might not even believe in ‘truth’, because you kept running from everything. From friends, from the famiglia and country, from… maybe, from what you really think or want. [ her hand strokes into texas’ hair, an almost soothing gentleness, as affectionate as a lover’s. her sheer violence, but she’d so rarely ever bared it to texas outside of duels. maybe her heart is such a betrayer that she could still be kind or soft to her, though underneath it is the bitterness and blackness of covetousness. ]
You ran and I was thrown out, I’m a lone wolf but I’m still a wolf.
You still reject… everything. Maybe that’s your new method of turning tail.
no subject
texas didn't consider herself a true wolf, but that was a given. she considers herself a wolf still (even a lone wolf despite her friends) regardless of everything. because she did have one way of thinking about herself.) I don't need to be a true wolf to be who I am. Still a wolf, still a lone wolf, with or without the country waxing poetic about me. (her hands only pause their threats for texas to reach and remove one glove from her costume, the leather covering her other hand takes its grip back up. rough, harsh along her thigh to part her legs nice and proper. to run her now bare hand upwards with a destination in mind, a rather obvious one in their back and forth when it stops short of her panties. they're still turned on.)
Or are you saying that I have to consider myself a true wolf to know who I am?
(the gentle strokes almost feel like a mockery when cellinia decides because lappland did take her ear, she can make the most of something from their positions. her teeth tease exposed skin, nips and nibbles, scrapes along lappland's neck through fabric. maybe even threatening to bite it off from flicks of her tongue to leave a trail of wet marks and teeth near latching down in something almost bloody.)
no subject
every touch, every nip of teeth has a shiver run harsh down her spine. her ears nearly bend back, a whine nearly rising in her throat; not even exactly from submission, just from… want. the desire of her entire life. she didn’t care about being a famiglia wolf, they were both born into the life, but she only wanted— ]
I’m saying, [ her voice a low snarl, her own hand suddenly fisting into texas’ hair, claws cutting towards her scalp. the other hand going to texas’ shirt to start cutting the threads of her buttons, to start undoing the vest and blouse with careless or deliberate shreds of her claws, ] You ran and you still run from everything. You’re a creature who gets going when the going gets tough! [ it’s accusatory, but it’s the truth. she knows it most of all of anyone in the world, as someone who’d always chased her. ] Real wolves might just fight and bite and tear the throat out of anyone who stands in their way—
You didn’t even do just that. [ that day, back before the fire. she’s over it, she really is, she could think as such but maybe she can’t help it if it’s the most defining moment of her life. just about the most beatific moment she thought she could give texas everything, and then she was rejected.
her clutch into texas’ hair tightens; as much as she wants to bite her neck, she wants, so badly, absolutely everything of texas and from texas. the infatuation that defined her. she’d fantasize of pinning texas down or having texas nip her neck just like this… it’s almost everything she wanted but accepted wouldn’t happen. she could imagine texas sinking her teeth in and her legs tremble with how much she desires just that—but her grip in texas’ hair holds her back from doing just that, yet. ]
no subject
she's being quiet, but she's thinking. thinking while her bare hand teases, brushing against lappland's panties with an index finger along her cunt, her lips. the claws of that hand threatens to rip them open as if that's the intent while they press lightly into fabric.
her other hand (gloved and everything) reaches to tug down that evening down with other intentions of its own. to cup a breast and squeeze, brush thumb against her nipple roughly through her bra if she were wearing one. she noticed that, the shiver and the tremble in lappland's legs while fabric rips of her vest strings and blouse coming open. she can presume it's both careless and deliberate, just like the pressing of texas being more deliberate. that part has been clearer since they started, whenever her mouth lets go of lappland's neck. leaving behind a black-blue mark, nice and pretty for now. it'd only be one of many.) Constant violence doesn't do anything, either. Just like how me running away doesn't. So maybe I do run away from talking about it, from anything remotely near remembering. (because that's how she's been. avoiding speaking about it, conversations that she should have been having by burying herself in something or other as a means of not thinking. that only worsened during her stay.)
But do you really think it'd be worth me being that angry again? The way that I was in Volsinii near the end as I kept watching the way they used, abused, and did everything they could to claim a win at the cost of multiple lives?
Or the way that I felt it after the fire? (the words are hummed out, again, her lips take another patch of skin. another hard suckle and her tongue brushing along it slowly. to taste her, to leave those bruises. the leather fabric of her gloved hand brushes along more pale skin with each squeeze, each passing second getting rougher. the scents getting more obvious and thicker from texas, she might be considering ignoring the game and playing it. not the way they intended, anyway.)