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peacockstop2025-09-15 09:00 pm
goldmods) wrote in peacockstop2025-09-15 09:00 pm
Entry tags:
TDM 011
【 Thank you for choosing the Golden Peacock, 5-star resort and casino. You are currently registered as a WILDCARD in our system.
We are thrilled to announce that the Golden Peacock will be embracing autumn with a special outing. Current and new guests are invited to join us for a refreshing outdoor experience where participants can unplug, unwind, and connect with nature. During this time, all Watches will be disabled to the most basic functions (texting, calls, checking chip account) in order to encourage guests to disconnect.
Please look forward to two weeks of finding yourself amongst the trees. We hope you enjoy your stay, and have a fan-CAMP-stic time. 】
CAMPING
GETTING OFF THE GRID
As the resort moves into what it claims is autumn, the days grow shorter. The projected sun in the Vale sets in the afternoon, after which a faint chill falls. Then there’s the most excessive transformation of all – a portion of the Vale has transformed into a campground complete with a scenic lake, seemingly overnight. Statues nearby have been dressed up with flannel jackets and suspenders. Folksy banjo fills the air without any discernible source.
A section of the campgrounds have been reserved for tents. These tents vary in size, shape, and supplies. All tents, regardless of quality, are supplied with sex toys and lube. Staff and long-standing guests all agree — pretending to live in the wilderness and 'rough it' for a while is thrilling. This is what the peasants feel like all the time!
A section of the campgrounds have been reserved for tents. These tents vary in size, shape, and supplies. All tents, regardless of quality, are supplied with sex toys and lube. Staff and long-standing guests all agree — pretending to live in the wilderness and 'rough it' for a while is thrilling. This is what the peasants feel like all the time!
HOME ON THE RANGE
Welcome to the Peacock Campgrounds! Nicknamed the Stomping Grounds by long-standing guests. Rustic and right off a sparkling lake, guests will find everything they need to live in the wilderness. Staff have expertly set up fire pits, benches, hammocks, and a wooden shed to act as a tool depository. There's even an outhouse, which is a real novelty to many of the long-standing guests. Do they just... squat over that hole and do their business? How wild!
Unlike previous resort-sponsored excursions, guests are expected to manage without the help of staff. That pile of wood won't be replenished once used; guests will have to go chop down trees and split their own. Food won't magically appear in their tents regardless of rank. Camping is all about living off the land. Though staff make themselves scarce to make the experience feel real, they lurk in the shadows, discreetly providing necessary tools and fixing broken equipment so guests won't struggle too much. It isn't fun if it's real hardship, after all!
Unlike previous resort-sponsored excursions, guests are expected to manage without the help of staff. That pile of wood won't be replenished once used; guests will have to go chop down trees and split their own. Food won't magically appear in their tents regardless of rank. Camping is all about living off the land. Though staff make themselves scarce to make the experience feel real, they lurk in the shadows, discreetly providing necessary tools and fixing broken equipment so guests won't struggle too much. It isn't fun if it's real hardship, after all!
ACTIVITIES
TWO WEEKS OF ROUGHING IT
Camping can't be all about survival. Where's the fun in that? Before 'leaving', the staff arrange activities and events for guests to enjoy. A wooden bulletin board outlines times for group hikes, camping experiences, and wilderness delights. Adirondack chairs line the edge of the lake and a few tire swings hang over the water, tied to strong tree branches. For the first week and a half the weather is pleasant and sunny. Perfect for camping.
At night, acoustic guitars and other wooden instruments come out so that guests can make music around the bonfire. Projected stars dapple the night sky, forming various constellations sourced from guest worlds. The moon enters a different phase each night, shining a gentle silver across the campgrounds. Why not pull your sweetheart in and cuddle beneath the night sky? It's so romantic.
At night, acoustic guitars and other wooden instruments come out so that guests can make music around the bonfire. Projected stars dapple the night sky, forming various constellations sourced from guest worlds. The moon enters a different phase each night, shining a gentle silver across the campgrounds. Why not pull your sweetheart in and cuddle beneath the night sky? It's so romantic.
HOWLING
CALL OF THE WILD
Temperatures drop drastically at night as the camping excursion nears its end. Nights become so chilly that morning dew frosts over, crunching beneath guest feet. Every day the light and its warmth set a little bit earlier. Staff remain elusive and do not provide warmer blankets or clothes for guests, leaving them to cuddle for warmth or find other ways to sleep comfortably during nightly cold snaps.
The moon hits its apex on the final night of camping. Unlike the other nights, this full moon shines blood red. The Vale stills under this ominous sign, silent. Snowflakes begins to fall, spreading an endless clean sheet across the campgrounds. That reflected pink hue is inescapable.
The moon hits its apex on the final night of camping. Unlike the other nights, this full moon shines blood red. The Vale stills under this ominous sign, silent. Snowflakes begins to fall, spreading an endless clean sheet across the campgrounds. That reflected pink hue is inescapable.
OOC NOTES
▶ BLANKET CW: altered states; eyes (descriptions only, incl. eye injury); exhibitionism; hunting (incl. hunting fantasy creatures); orgies; public sex; survival; temperature play; tentacles; transformation; violence
▶ 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 September event. Camping will ICly begin September 15th and end October 3rd.
▶ 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.
▶ 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.
▶ 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 September event. Camping will ICly begin September 15th and end October 3rd.
▶ 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.
▶ 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.
I.
He's a little ashamed that he's spent the remainder of the day following that man's trail. Not openly. Not directly. He hasn't approached yet. He only noted the oddly homey little cooking area from an angle and a distance, before he circled back to ask a few, vague and — perhaps odd — questions of those that sampled the cuisine. In the end, however, it seemed this camp was peopled with strangers in a strange land, or else he just so happened to miss anyone that might have recognized just whose generosity they had benefited from. Not likely.
When he does approach, well after dusk has begun to tinge the sky and the evening meal has been served to most of those eager to partake, it's fairly direct. Lucky enough to have been granted a robe of more customary length — to the calf — and surprising thickness, there's significantly less of him on display than this strange and eerily familiar cook. Nevertheless, his eyes don't stray from the other's face. Even when welt stops at a distance that's a little this side of cautious interest, he only offers a polite smile.
"Well, I think this classifies as above and beyond." His gaze shifts to the candles, just before he indicates them with an open hand.
"Not only — " He hesitates to call it good food, if only because he hasn't sampled it. " — providing food, but ambience... I'm told you even deliver." A soft, short chuckle follows, his eyes sweep the cooking area again before settling on Phainon once more.
"I don't suppose you could use help cleaning up?"
GRIPS WELT TIGHTLY
Presumably.
Welt's approach extracts him from his contemplation and, as naturally as breathing, he effortlessly answers the stranger's smile with one of his own, resting one palm on his hip. The warmth in his expression is friendly, but nothing more; perhaps answering the puzzle that Welt's approach was intended to solve. He doesn't know him.
And his presence doesn't bring down the ambient temperature.
"Well! That's kind of you to say," he replies, jovial and humble in equal measure, "I can't take all the credit for a group effort, but I'll convey your compliments."
From underneath the table, Phainon pulls out a bucket brimming with discarded skewers - sticks with their skin whittled off, mainly - and a few organic scraps that can't be used for broth. Those scraps have already gone to others to use. Hefting it easily to his shoulder, he turns to the other man.
"Far be it from me to refuse the offer. I need to compost this, then fetch some water. Should you care to join me," he jerks his chin toward the plate of remaining skewers, "Why don't you take those along? We can share them as we go."
He must not be going too far, since he leaves the fire unattended, offering a passerby a wave. "We... haven't met," he asks Welt, "Have we?" Being a Wildcard, he's been meeting new and unfamiliar people left and right. "I'm Phainon. Of Aedes Elysiae."
pls have mercy, his old bones...
His gaze falls upon the plate, nevertheless, and the line of his mouth flattens out. Not a very helpful task, carrying food apparently half intended for himself. But, it's what he's being asked to do, and perhaps Phainon really was hungry enough to eat on the short trip away from the fire. He picks it up and falls evenly into step.
"No," he confirms, trying to disconnect himself from the finality of saying it aloud, and yet in part already reticent to the reality. Not least because of the obvious. The chill in the air is only the subtle encroachment of autumn. Or maybe the veneer of it recreated, given the state of the sky. In any case, his attempt to temper his reaction is a middling success, something about his tone half a shade too dull. The volume dipping on the last syllable. "We haven't."
Even so, it isn't Phainon's fault that he is who he is and he isn't who he's not. Fault isn't even a consideration here. Rather than dwell on it, Welt pushes the lot of it aside, and some of that easy warmth drifts back into the forefront of his smile.
"I'm Welt Yang. Pleased to meet you." And he is, the smile on his face says. The tone of his voice. He's been genuinely pleased to meet quite a few people of late. Relatively few of which sparked such a pointed interest, but there were exceptions but...
"I don't suppose that would mean you're a native?" He queries, seeming to have little difficult balancing a plate of still cooling food, walking and offering animated conversation all at once. "Something about a name like that brings a far more idyllic image to mind."
Not that he was —
"Not to disparage the considerable beauty of the countryside, here. Only — " Well the campsite, with its significant disparity between dwellings, somewhat detracte from the picturesque qualities. He rolls his hand absently in the direction of on of the more questionable structures attempting to pass itself off as one.
"The accommodations might be improved upon."
no subject
As they walk, Phainon is content to listen. There's a hint of warm, vocal fry in Welt's voice that Phainon finds pleasant to his ears; the fact that the man is then trying to cover for the possibility of a spoken misstep charms much more than it offends, and what starts as a small smile soon splits into a grin. He can relate - they're all discombobulated by this and that (most of it related to waking in these highly unusual circumstances, he's sure), and when so many of them have much weightier matters on their minds, it's easy to stumble through small talk.
It's only when he laughs, briefly, brightly, that the momentary sunniness of that delight defines the subtle shadows in the smiles that came before and follow after.
"Hahaha! You can say that again," he answers, "But... no.
"Like you, I'm another guest," explains the man, pausing to upend the bucket into a heap of compost. He gives it a shake to dislodge a few remaining charred skewers, bones, and remains of vegetables, and continues as he moves along towards the nearby shore. "With a name like yours, I know at once you don't hail from Amphoreus.
"Tell me, what's your home like?"
no subject
Amphoreus. That name... isn't.
Not that it wholly blindsides him, admittedly. It was the locus of forces capable of ripping apart the galaxy as they knew it, after all. What was more, there was very limited information present from the inside of Amphoreus, and the last Welt knew he had been investigating the situation as best he could from the outside. Chances were, it was liable to come up.
Even so, it rings through him like a death knell, and he winces internally at the thought, solely because there is too much about the situation he just doesn't know. Despite Madam Herta's assurances — and those far more effective from Mr. Screwllum — Welt himself has not laid eyes on Dan Heng or Stelle. And March's situation... He can't be certain that they're alright. That everything will be alright. Either way, it wipes the smile off Welt's face in favor of a look that's far more scrutinizing, the line of his mouth resolving into something thin and strained. He stops in his tracks, in fact.
At another time, he might be tempted to ask which home Phainon meant. To launch into fond description of the Express' Crew at the very least. Maybe even offer something up about his previous home, and the people he had left behind. Right now, there are others in the forefront of his mind. Not only other people, but other questions.
"You're from Amphoreus, then." He starts with a needless repetition of fact. Though, the question he does ask is reaching to say the least. What were the odds, after all, that a random individual he encountered would have encountered them? Then again, what were the odds that he might see Kevin again, albeit a fractal image of the man?
"You wouldn't... happen to have come across some travelers there?" A slight hesitation infects careful enunciation. He considers that, after the events of Belobog, the three of them may have chosen aliases. Then he discards that thought. "Dan Heng, March 7th, or Stelle?"
Boy, do we have bad news for you.
Dan Heng and Stelle had been trapped, unable to return to their friends. What does that make Welt? Friend of theirs? Or a pursuer, perhaps? What are the odds, indeed, that out of so many torn from their homes and disparate circumstances, he'll encounter another from that same universe beyond his home's false sky, who knows of his home's existence?
Still but not flat-footed, Phainon's blue eyes stare him down over the curve of his bare shoulder, watchful and familiar.
Until his eyes widen.
"Are you," he asks, astounded, "From the Astral Express?"
He does not rush to tell him what he knows - aware as of yet only that Dan Heng is here - he was willing to chat a stranger up, but doesn't yet trust him. Those two saviors who descended from beyond the false sky, they've proven themselves dependable and strong, and he knows from personal experience that hardship is the price for competence.
Phainon's grip on the lip of that bucket, though, might be less reassuring. He looks like he might bludgeon him with it for the wrong answer. Him! A kindly 'old' man! (Don't worry. He probably won't. Probably.)
bad delivery boy, no tip
It's not as easy to move past the question Phainon doesn't answer, however, so for a long moment, Welt continues to watch Phainon with abiding unease. He understands the other's response rationally. He might have even done the same in Phainon's place. It was best, after all, not to give away more than necessary in pursuit of information. And Welt had no idea how his companions might have been received on arrival, or of the individual struggles that made up Amphoreus. He had no idea if this young man was friend or foe. No matter how kind he seemed.
But he must know something if he knows that name, and nearly any news is preferable to being in the dark like this.
His hands lift slowly, fingers splayed and arms spreading, though not far. Just a few inches, enough that the long sleeves of the robe hang limply around his wrists, and he can draw a mild amount of attention to his lack of weaponry. Just in case the snowy-haired young man needs the assurance that Welt has brought nothing to a bucket fight.
"I am." He offers simply, drawing in a bracing breath afterward. He chooses to believe in the kindness he's seen earlier that day. Decision made, his shoulders droop a little. He admits, "we're all very worried."
"If you've seen or heard from them — anything at all — I'd appreciate anything you can tell me. In return, I'll tell you what I know about Amphoreus." A slight laugh follows. Maybe it's a nervous habit? "It isn't much."
no subject
The wooden sound of the bucket thudding harmlessly to the ground precedes his choice to trust once more. It's not quite the same; the other had been a true leap of faith made on his own territory, this? They're unwitting, unwilling refugees with a common connection.
"A story for Mnestia's ears," he exclaims, as amazed as he is relieved. "I don't know if this is fate's design, but I know Stelle and Dan Heng well. They have been our stalwart allies for some time," how long? A year? Two? He... he used to know. Now seasons blur like seconds, years like hours. He doesn't have the luxury of wondering if he'll ever grasp it the same way ever again, so the duration of their stay remains vague.
"Dan Heng is here, Lord Welt."
There is a lot more he could say — that he probably should say — but this is a significant enough bomb to drop on a man as it is. And the rest... well, Phainon wouldn't blame him at all if he wished to hear it from Dan Heng directly. Welt's promise to exchange information is a kindness, but the white-haired man is more concerned with the more immediate, tangible issue: Dan Heng has missed his friends; they've been apart for a long time, and he deserves to know that one of the Nameless is here. Everything else can wait.
no subject
While the name Mnestia is unfamiliar, he thinks he can parse that reverence around it. Maybe not precisely, but he has some idea as to the meaning of the phrase. It's noted for later inquiry. Or forgetting. He's not sure, because the relief rises like a lump in his throat as Phainon continues. Stelle and Dan Heng were doing alright for themselves, then. Or they had been, at least. They'd made allies. He breathes out a sigh that's so full of relief it eases the last of the tension from his posture.
Even as the uneasy thought surfaces in the back of his head. If Stelle and Dan Heng had found their way, then where was March? Had she been alone all this time?
He doesn't have long to dwell, however, his eyes widening as Phainon continues. Dan Heng is here? Impulsively, Welt steps forward.
"He's here?" He repeats. Dozens of questions chord through him, but that is the one that he parrots back. He holds back the flood of the others, if only because they aren't as important. They are. Objectively they are. But they're also not. What about the others? What did that mean for Amphoreus? Or the galaxy at large for that matter? Those questions only expand, given the nature of all parties involved. Yet, his rational mind is overtaken by something far simpler than world ending calamities.
Incidentally, being addressed with such a title as "Lord" is... not something he knows what to do with, which is just as well, as he doesn't even seem to take notice of it.
"Do you know where he is now?" He presses. It's not accusatory, just direct. He doesn't wait for the answer. "Is he alright? Is Stelle...?" His brow furrows, the lines under his eyes seem almost to etch deeper into his countenance as the weight of years and worry settle across his features.
no subject
How easily he projects his impassioned voice. While the gravitas is starkly at odds with their surroundings and (cough) their state of dress, he might have made a decent orator.
"They have been exemplary in demonstrating what it means to walk the Path of the Trailblaze. In honor of their great heroism and sacrifice, I will tell you everything I can."
It's a steep promise... Phainon has a somewhat relaxed view of 'everything I can', which, he supposes, is uncomfortably deceptive. But he seeks to comfort and reassure; he cannot burden another with an unactionable truth. It would do no good to tell him what would only cause harm.
"Ask your questions, Lord Welt. I may need a moment to gather my thoughts, but I will answer, and then," he continues, closing his fist at his side, "I will escort you personally to see Dan Heng."
no subject
"Truthfully, you've confirmed much of what I needed to hear already." That had to be the two of them, rising to the defense of a people they barely knew, shouldering the burdens of a world they had only just set foot on — relatively speaking. Though he'd be lying to say he hadn't had a few doubts about either of them at first, Welt knows that they have become true Nameless at this point. A harrowing and heartening truth, to be sure.
It's certainly an ambivalence he's felt before, watching young people embark on a Path he knows is littered with strife and loss and heartache, but also accomplishment, camaraderie and joy. It's not a feeling he can easily brush aside, but neither does he want to do so. His hand drops back to his side, and a sigh rattles out of his chest.
"Before we get to that," he forces a small smile, looking at Phainon again. "Please, there's no need for titles. Just Welt is fine. I'm... hardly a lord of anything." Which is not altogether true depending on the context of Phainon's usage. But, well... those details don't necessarily apply these days. To say nothing of the unlikelihood of them applying to wherever they are now.
no subject
It worries him, rightfully, that Dan Heng is here, and what's more, that the time doesn't line up with his own recollection. If it's one thing Phainon is keenly aware of these days, however, it's that the space-time continuum is... well and truly fucked.
Will it comfort Dan Heng to see his fellow Nameless? Phainon would like to believe it would, but he gets every impression that Dan Heng may see this as some kind of involuntary exile - and in almost every way, it is, although in some cases, it's a second chance.
"Then, if you have what you need," Phainon offers, "Allow me to take you to him. I'm sure there's much the two of you wish to discuss."
no subject
Catching it just in time to keep the skewers from rolling off, Welt pulls it up to hold in both hands once more. His gaze drops to the wobbling skewers and he huffs out a sheepish little laugh, glancing back up at Phainon apologetically. Something boyish slides back into his expression, a quality that appears to have simply been waiting in the wings.
"You haven't eaten, though..." Neither has Welt, of course, but the hollow of his stomach is completely dismissed. Or rather any contribution hunger has to make to it is.
"Let's have a seat," he suggests, his gaze casting about before happening upon a large flat rock not completely covered in moss that makes for quite the idyllic little bench. "Eager as I am to see him, I'm certain that Dan Heng can stay out of trouble for just a little longer."
Which is not something he would necessarily say about the other two...
no subject
"Gladly," he answers, stepping forward to join him at the mossy stone. It's a good height for sitting, but not quite broad enough for both of them to share - but only if they eat in the manner with which Phainon is most familiar: reclining, as many in Amphoreus do if they're not trying to shove a snack down on the go. Unless they sit upright and eat, like most people do around here, that is. That's fine, he can adapt, even if he has some reservations about how good that is for one's digestion.
Of the pick on the plate, Phainon takes the two that are smaller than the remaining pair of skewers, and has the restraint to wait until Welt has taken a bite before he helps himself.
The herbed meat is surprisingly tender for coming from hunted game. Then again, just... don't ask what it was. The fire has blistered chopped onions and peppers between the pieces of meat, and there are a few tender chunks of a mysterious tuber and a slightly charred mushroom cap.
Fortunately, none of these should have any weird side effects. Should. Nobody eating them seemed to have any adverse reactions.
"Dan Heng had once told me he was the guard of the Astral Express," Phainon says, once he's chewed and swallowed his bite, "If you don't mind me asking, do all the Nameless have a role aboard?" And if so, what's Welt's, is the obvious segue.