【 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.
[It isn't that Sunday has never feared for his life — even if his world was carved from the shapes of dreams, corners softened from the blunt of pain and trauma, he has confronted insurmountable odds otherwise. Death is possible. Yet his own sense of self-preservation feels like a dark shadow he has passed through, unscathed, only to find the light colder on the other side.
So fear doesn't set itself into smooth, spotless features as he watches this man work at the end of the cigar. The flash of energy catches his eyes, glowing across the lines of cheekbones of a face that isn't his own, and for a moment the irises look gold instead of wan gray.]
I've done nothing to pose a danger to you. There's little to gain in antagonizing me, so why don't you tell me what you want? Money? You'll find my account lacking.
[Which would be the first betrayal of identity, because he is in the high-ranking lounge, after all.]
If you need a partner, I'm sure you'll discover others more willing.
[ this wouldn't be the very first of the elite touting around without a penny to their name, riding on name and compliments of the house — but it does throw a suspicious wrench into a gear already well-worn, if ever Getou had been deceived in the first place. it suggests to him a greenness with deceit, intensifying the mystery. ]
If you don't understand someone's motives, throwing out haphazard guesses wastes everyone's time.
[ long legs barely manage to cross under the table, pitching in on a hip towards Sunday, focus rapt. slatted eyes ooze with heat, magmatic gold that burns with the cherry's reflection, answering their kindred... but without divinity, it's honey's mockery of ore, natural but saccharine. ]
I don't really like it when people lie to me. It makes me feel... [ a smoky breath sucked through teeth, ] Provoked.
[ certain now that Sunday's attention is focused upon Getou solely, the frog's sticky tongue darts the air, looping and latching, spun around the two curved bars that make Sunday's halo. one mighty pull back attempts to dislodge the thing and claim it as treasure for its master. ]
[Sunday has not moved much since sitting down at the table, posture pristine and eyes rapt, watchful over the long, dark lines of the man beside him. He is conscious of the fact of his own vulnerability; this is not a Dreamscape where he has any power, and his defenses are not far away from nonexistence.
Perhaps it is picked up like the scent of blood by a predator. He doesn't know why it happens — but almost it doesn't surprise him. There is penitence in being targeted, a fraction of his own suffering measured against the rest of the world's.
There comes a blinding pain. He hadn't noticed the movement from the corner of his eyes, and he sees too late when the halo above his head is latched onto, yanked. Sunday doesn't scream, but he does make a noise — quiet, choked, wounded by some invisible injury. There's a flash of technicolor light and a feeling of release in the air, like a snapped band, as the Harmony ribbons out of him in a wash of golden, metaphysical power — while his hand reaches up to grasp the other end of his halo and pull it back.
In the process his disguise has vanished, leaving a short, slender young man looking very different than before.]
no subject
So fear doesn't set itself into smooth, spotless features as he watches this man work at the end of the cigar. The flash of energy catches his eyes, glowing across the lines of cheekbones of a face that isn't his own, and for a moment the irises look gold instead of wan gray.]
I've done nothing to pose a danger to you. There's little to gain in antagonizing me, so why don't you tell me what you want? Money? You'll find my account lacking.
[Which would be the first betrayal of identity, because he is in the high-ranking lounge, after all.]
If you need a partner, I'm sure you'll discover others more willing.
[What are you? He could have asked the same.]
no subject
If you don't understand someone's motives, throwing out haphazard guesses wastes everyone's time.
[ long legs barely manage to cross under the table, pitching in on a hip towards Sunday, focus rapt. slatted eyes ooze with heat, magmatic gold that burns with the cherry's reflection, answering their kindred... but without divinity, it's honey's mockery of ore, natural but saccharine. ]
I don't really like it when people lie to me. It makes me feel... [ a smoky breath sucked through teeth, ] Provoked.
[ certain now that Sunday's attention is focused upon Getou solely, the frog's sticky tongue darts the air, looping and latching, spun around the two curved bars that make Sunday's halo. one mighty pull back attempts to dislodge the thing and claim it as treasure for its master. ]
no subject
Perhaps it is picked up like the scent of blood by a predator. He doesn't know why it happens — but almost it doesn't surprise him. There is penitence in being targeted, a fraction of his own suffering measured against the rest of the world's.
There comes a blinding pain. He hadn't noticed the movement from the corner of his eyes, and he sees too late when the halo above his head is latched onto, yanked. Sunday doesn't scream, but he does make a noise — quiet, choked, wounded by some invisible injury. There's a flash of technicolor light and a feeling of release in the air, like a snapped band, as the Harmony ribbons out of him in a wash of golden, metaphysical power — while his hand reaches up to grasp the other end of his halo and pull it back.
In the process his disguise has vanished, leaving a short, slender young man looking very different than before.]
Release it.