【 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.
( seems to be the kind of old man that wants to keep distance between himself and everything--at least from this cursory interaction, and he slides his elbow onto the table, his chin dropping into his palm as he waits. naturally the six eyes are happy to dissect all the information that they can about the depth of this guy's muscles, his stature, and the egregious scarring that seems to be prevalent across his skin. whatever it is this guy fights with, it's nothing like magic, or cursed energy: must be the standard fare, knives or guns or whatever else is at his disposal. at the thought, there's a brief pursing of his lips, displeased; he leaves that memory aside.
it's cheating to keep his pants on, but he'll figure that out in a second. instead, he waits to be beckoned, letting out a long, playful sigh before he pushes up onto his feet, both hands hefting up the skirt of his own dress a little, above his shoes, so that he doesn't trip on himself as he closes the distance. )
Is it just the zipper? Hm~.
( he puts himself at the other's back, reaching with both hands to start to tug either open side together--he gives one weak tug, and then another, and even goes so far as to hold the tops together while he reaches down to tug helplessly at the zipper, but--
there's a sigh, masked in a devilish sort of grin-- )
Sorry. Seems it's not gonna go up unless you take your pants off. Such a finicky thing, right~?
[ marco waits, dutifully so, as the young man fusses impotently at the zipper. it's by the second failed "attempt" that marco begins to cotton on to the evidence of mischief; he need only a second's worth of a glance at the other's grin to have it all confirmed for him. ]
Quite finicky, [ he says around a wry smile of his own. fortunately, it's not a terribly big ask of him; he had more or less come to terms with the prospect of it the second he let himself get roped into these antics. he supposes, in retrospect, it would have been far too easy to get away with keeping the pants on.
no matter. marco sincerely doubts it's out of some desire of camaraderie — less a peak at some vulnerability in not wanting to be the only one so exposed, so to speak, but more to further nudge marco himself out of his supposed comfort zone. marco's had enough years of experience to know that his mild demeanor can so very often be a magnet for people who delighted in that. what was it galahad would often say to him? "sometimes you're just asking for it."
and so after hiking his skirt up a little, he works at undoing his pants. he leaves the belt slung along the hoops and divests himself of the slacks in relative ease. that, too, gets folded up and neatly set aside with his shirt. then he takes that pile and sets it side, tucking it behind a large potted fern so it can be hidden. he's on the poorer side here in the resort, and so he's determined not to lose what little clothing he owns.
he presents his back to gojou again, hands still at his sides. ]
( there's little argument, which has him lifting his brows--but that doesn't mean he isn't going to stand there and not enjoy the show. in the end, it's almost too proper, sort of the way that he thinks nanami would divulge himself of his crisp shirt and pressed slacks at the end of a day; he lets out a soft breath, a sigh of amusement, and folds his arms against his chest. odd, really, to tuck the clothes away, except that he must expect to come back for them--that has him curious, as marco presents his back to him again.
standing up on his toes, he neatly and firmly pinches the back of the dress together. )
What's your rank, here? Are you in the basement?
( slowly, he works the zipper up--honestly, the pants had nothing to do with it, but it's rather that marco's broad, muscular form causes a little bit of issue here, and he's careful not to break the zipper or rip the fabric as he works it up to the collar. there, he carefully smooths out the back of the dress with his palms, ensuring that there's at least enough give for marco to reasonably move around; then, playfully, he snags both arms around his waist from behind.
just a little hug, a playful squeeze, letting out a laugh. ) Kya~. So broad.
( teasing, obviously--he draws back with a grin, cocking his head towards the hallway in question. should they head out, or work harder to conceal the manly curve of marco's jaw? it's hard to tell whether they should do something with marco's face, too, or not; a wig might help, but he's not sure he has one on hand. )
A 2, [ he answers, without any hesitation or shame. there are few comforts afforded to those who dwell in the basement, and fewer still for the lowest ranked among them, but marco never had any major problem with his assignment. he finds it a far better option than if he were placed somewhere higher, with a wealth and renown he would not have known at all what to do with. his brief time as a king made that more than clear.
when he turns and notices the way the other's eyes linger along his features, he chuffs out a light laugh. ]
I don't think there's anything that can be done about it, [ he says, addressing the obvious elephant in the room. he's had many, many years to come to terms with that garish scar, so he only looks amused. ] Unless you have some kind of disguising ability?
[ he has to imagine not, if the young man had already gone to such lengths with the costume and mascara... ]
( he repeats it thoughtfully, thinking--but there's really no way he could do something like that, even with his technique at his disposal. he might be able to prevent marco from being carried out, throwing infinity around him, but he really won't be able to do much else.
instead, he offers a bright smile, even in the face of failure. ) Nope! So...
( there's a soft puff as he turns back towards the table, rifling around; while he may not have a wig, he does have a few other things, which include the item that he passes to marco now--a pale blue folding fan, with an image of white cranes flying across the panels.
once that's handed to him, he claps his hands together. )
We'll try this. Just let me do the talking. Try to look demure.
no subject
it's cheating to keep his pants on, but he'll figure that out in a second. instead, he waits to be beckoned, letting out a long, playful sigh before he pushes up onto his feet, both hands hefting up the skirt of his own dress a little, above his shoes, so that he doesn't trip on himself as he closes the distance. )
Is it just the zipper? Hm~.
( he puts himself at the other's back, reaching with both hands to start to tug either open side together--he gives one weak tug, and then another, and even goes so far as to hold the tops together while he reaches down to tug helplessly at the zipper, but--
there's a sigh, masked in a devilish sort of grin-- )
Sorry. Seems it's not gonna go up unless you take your pants off. Such a finicky thing, right~?
no subject
Quite finicky, [ he says around a wry smile of his own. fortunately, it's not a terribly big ask of him; he had more or less come to terms with the prospect of it the second he let himself get roped into these antics. he supposes, in retrospect, it would have been far too easy to get away with keeping the pants on.
no matter. marco sincerely doubts it's out of some desire of camaraderie — less a peak at some vulnerability in not wanting to be the only one so exposed, so to speak, but more to further nudge marco himself out of his supposed comfort zone. marco's had enough years of experience to know that his mild demeanor can so very often be a magnet for people who delighted in that. what was it galahad would often say to him? "sometimes you're just asking for it."
and so after hiking his skirt up a little, he works at undoing his pants. he leaves the belt slung along the hoops and divests himself of the slacks in relative ease. that, too, gets folded up and neatly set aside with his shirt. then he takes that pile and sets it side, tucking it behind a large potted fern so it can be hidden. he's on the poorer side here in the resort, and so he's determined not to lose what little clothing he owns.
he presents his back to gojou again, hands still at his sides. ]
Should we give it another shot?
no subject
standing up on his toes, he neatly and firmly pinches the back of the dress together. )
What's your rank, here? Are you in the basement?
( slowly, he works the zipper up--honestly, the pants had nothing to do with it, but it's rather that marco's broad, muscular form causes a little bit of issue here, and he's careful not to break the zipper or rip the fabric as he works it up to the collar. there, he carefully smooths out the back of the dress with his palms, ensuring that there's at least enough give for marco to reasonably move around; then, playfully, he snags both arms around his waist from behind.
just a little hug, a playful squeeze, letting out a laugh. ) Kya~. So broad.
( teasing, obviously--he draws back with a grin, cocking his head towards the hallway in question. should they head out, or work harder to conceal the manly curve of marco's jaw? it's hard to tell whether they should do something with marco's face, too, or not; a wig might help, but he's not sure he has one on hand. )
no subject
when he turns and notices the way the other's eyes linger along his features, he chuffs out a light laugh. ]
I don't think there's anything that can be done about it, [ he says, addressing the obvious elephant in the room. he's had many, many years to come to terms with that garish scar, so he only looks amused. ] Unless you have some kind of disguising ability?
[ he has to imagine not, if the young man had already gone to such lengths with the costume and mascara... ]
no subject
( he repeats it thoughtfully, thinking--but there's really no way he could do something like that, even with his technique at his disposal. he might be able to prevent marco from being carried out, throwing infinity around him, but he really won't be able to do much else.
instead, he offers a bright smile, even in the face of failure. ) Nope! So...
( there's a soft puff as he turns back towards the table, rifling around; while he may not have a wig, he does have a few other things, which include the item that he passes to marco now--a pale blue folding fan, with an image of white cranes flying across the panels.
once that's handed to him, he claps his hands together. )
We'll try this. Just let me do the talking. Try to look demure.