TDM 011

[goldmods]

【 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!

NOT ALL TENTS ARE EQUAL

► High-rank guests are allocated spacious and luxurious tents. These elaborate mini-homes come with TVs, beds, heaters, and plenty of supplies. Provided camping gear is high quality, ranging from state of the art flashlights to designer backpacks. It can't quite be considered roughing it in these tents, but glamping is camping too!

► Mid-rank guests are allocated moderate tents that comfortably fit up to three guests. These tents come with cots or sleeping bags, as well as standard camping gear to make their time living off the land fairly comfortable. While these tents lack the bells and whistles of the high-rank accommodations, they are more than enough for a comfortable but realistic camping experience.

► Low-rank guests are allocated the shabbiest tents. These sagging accommodations can shield one guest comfortably, but that doesn't stop staff from pairing low-ranking guests together in order to save space. Their 'sleeping bags' are a single blanket and hay bale pillow. There are no other included amenities aside from sex toys and a single lantern.

► Last but certainly not least: our Wildcards! All Wildcards have been randomly assigned. Whether they end up in a glamping tent or sleeping beneath a propped up sheet is left to chance. Wildcards also may find themselves waking up beside a current guest or another new arrival.

► Guests that "go camping" will discover that the door connecting the Vale to the rest of the resort has mysteriously vanished. Uh oh! Looks like there's no going back to the comfortable life anytime soon. Don't worry, the door will return when it's time to pack up and head home.

LET'S GET CRAFTY

► New characters still wake up naked save for a robe, as is standard for the Golden Peacock. This round’s robes are flannel gingham to embrace camping and autumn aesthetic. Some of these robes are much shorter than others; watch out that the lake breeze doesn’t reveal more than you wanted.

► Unlike the standard, there are no racks of clothes waiting for new arrivals outside of their tents. You're roughing it out in the woods, remember? Instead of clothing, Wildcards will find an assortment of raw materials to make clothes.

Fabric rolls, hemp, buckets of leaves, leather, and other assorted goods are waiting to be cobbled into something new. The staff have been kind enough to leave some small hunting knives and wooden needles to make crafting a bit easier. Of course, they won't stop anyone that wants to embrace the wild side and strut around naked.

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!

DOES ANYONE KNOW HOW TO COOK?

► On the first camp morning, guests will find barrels of ingredients and cooking utensils left beside the central fire pit. These barrels are stocked with fruits and vegetables that won't spoil quickly, many of which are seasonal to autumn. They have also been left a few protein options like eggs, jerky, and canned ham. These ingredients are communal and limited. Once they run out, guests will have to hunt and gather in the Vale to collect more.

► Guests must prepare their own meals while camping. Not even the high-ranks are given any special treatment on this! While oil and firestarter are included in the initial supply, these too are limited and won't be replenished after use.

► Staff would never let their precious guests go without a sweet treat. A generous supply of hot cocoa and all the fixings for s'mores has been left behind as well. While none of the other food will be replenished, the hot cocoa and s'mores goodies seemingly never run out. A night around a campfire without roasting marshmallows or sipping cocoa would be too cruel to subject guests to.

SUPPLIES RUNNING LOW

► Guests will have to hunt and gather once ingredients dwindle if they want to eat. The wooden shed is home to a selection of tools that can be used to hunt: bows and arrows, hatchets, axes, fishing poles and line, etc. All tools are rudimentary and can break if not taken care of.

► The Vale is lush with wild fruits and vegetables. However, much like in reality, not all vegetation in the Vale is safe to eat. While some berries and mushrooms are consumable, others are toxic or psychedelics. One must also not forget that they're in the Golden Peacock: some unusual plants that grow in the vale may trigger arousal. Watch out that you don't eat something funky by accident!

► Before 'leaving', staff will explain that guests can fish or hunt small game running throughout the Vale. One particularly enthusiastic staff member will suggest guests track down the snoggleboffs, as they're extremely delicious after roasting on an open fire.

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.

IN CAMP

► Guests that don't want a cold shower should make their way over to the shower stalls quickly. These outdoor showers hold very little hot water and run cold after about five minutes. First-come first-serve!

► A wood-chopping competition begins around lunchtime. There are two goals: to split as much wood as possible and looking sexy while doing it. Guests that chop wood unsexily immediately fail! Alternatively, sexiness with a pathetic number of chunks is more acceptable, but still a loss. Those that achieve both goals will instantly win a large payout. Failing to sexily cut wood won’t have any penalties associated with it, and you can always try again tomorrow!

► Bear hunting is a popular activity that even the spoiled long-standing guests are getting in on! No, not hunting real bears. That would be insane. Peacock's version of bear hunting involves hunting down bear-like guests and capturing them! Any guest that fits the criteria of big, thick, and strong may potentially be assigned the role of bear. Hunters who manage to tie up, handcuff, net, or otherwise 'capture' a 'bear' will instantly receive a large payout.

THE LAKE

► This sparkling lake is rich with fish. Enjoy sitting back on the long pier with a fishing rod or take one of the wooden boats out for a row around the lake. It's also safe to swim in, for guests that would like to take a dip and rinse off the sweat of camp living! Don't mind the random swim trunks or drink umbrellas that pop up now and then. This water is definitely fresh and not recycled from the summer beach extravaganza.

► Guests that do decide to take a dip may encounter a familiar friend. Fernando the tentacle monster is camping too! This randy tentacle monster is as horny as ever, eager to embrace guests and stick slippery tentacles into any reachable orifice.

► Once the sun goes down, many of the long-standing guests strip off their shoddily crafted clothes and sprint into the water for skinny dipping by moonlight! What's a camping excursion without a lake-side orgy? The best way to drown out those erotic moans from the lake is to head to the central fire pit and join in on some campfire songs.

OUTSIDE CAMP

► Those that head out of camp for a hike or hunt can enjoy any of the Vale's usual wonders. With autumn, shiny apples dangle from the trees and pumpkins pepper beneath their protruding roots. Along with autumnal fruits and vegetables, canned beef and ham have been mysteriously left in pockets close to the campgrounds. A little act of kindness from the staff; not everyone is cut out to hunt their own game!

► For those interested in hunting down some fresh game, walking around the forest in the morning may come with a stroke of luck. Strange little creatures the size of an adult's fist are active during this time. These hairy beasts come in brown and white, and screech, "Scrun scrun screeee!" when agitated.

Yes, these are the alleged snoggleboffs! Don't feel bad about hunting them, they're an invasive species that are unfriendly and eager to steal from unsuspecting guests. Their main strength is their speed, but once caught, they don't put up much of a fight.

► Guests that explore deep into the Vale may find a dark cave mouth that leads downward into a damp chamber. The ceiling glitters with stalactites and, along the wall, they'll find a horizontal crease with what seems to be... hair? If touched, this crease will creak open, revealing a large eye that darts back and forth before focusing on whoever woke it. Black pupils and iris bleed into one endless abyss.

Those that gaze directly into the eye will freeze. Their mind will remain active while their body locks in place, not unlike sleep paralysis. This trance will break once the eye blinks, which it will do after some time... but it can also be forced into blinking by force if there's someone who hasn't made eye-contact around to help. Frozen guests will be overwhelmed with the fear of abandonment for the duration of their paralysis. This fear will fade after the connection is broken, as if it wasn't their fear at all.

Like a regular eye, dirt or debris can force a blink. If this route is taken, the eye will go bloodshot and shut, refusing to open again. Any guest that inflicts damage to the eye may find that their suite, upon return, has been trashed. As if someone or something threw a big tantrum in there while they were gone. Wonder why that happened...?

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 WEATHER TURNS

► Along with chilly nights, the last few days of camping feature inclement weather conditions. Clouds overtake the sun and rain falls, alternating between light mist and heavy downpour.

► Winds pick up, with speeds threatening to whip away the less stable tents. Guests that don't hunker down and add additional support to their tents may end up chasing them into the storm. Other loose items around the campgrounds may end up blown away as well.

BLOOD MOON

► Wild instinct rises with the blood moon. As crimson moonlight beckons, some guests may begin to feel ... strange. As if they need to claw their true selves free. Those that answer the call to bathe in the light of the blood moon will undergo a transformation.

► Basking in the light of the blood moon triggers a were-transformation. While the standard were that the blood moon inspires is the classic werewolf, guests may transform into any kind of were. Along with hybrid transformation, the blood moon stirs mating and sex impulses in these new weres. Remaining humans are at risk of being eaten... in the sexy way.

► Transformation into a were is not mandatory. Other guests may step into the blood moon's light and not experience any kind of transformation or impulse. These guests are now actors in a sexy horror scene, given the task of surviving the night surrounded by monsters! At least they're sexy monsters? Giving in and fucking on the wild side may be more fun.

PACKING UP

► After the crazy weather and horny werewolves, the staff judge that it's high time to wrap this excursion up. Guests will once again openly see these diligent workers the morning after the blood moon. They come flooding into the site with clothing, snacks, and other comforts while praising everyone for surviving for so long without the resort's usual luxuries.

► A first aid tent and cleaning station are swiftly erected. All guests that volunteer to treat injuries sustained over the course of the camping experience or help clean up the site will be compensated with a large payout.

► Every guest that participated in the camping event, regardless of whether they help wrap things up, will be issued a spa voucher. Go relax, you've earned some pampering after all of that hard living!

OOC NOTES

INVITES | RESERVES | APPLICATIONS

▶ 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.

NAVIGATION • LOG • NETWORK • OOC • MEME

Comments

cw: more necro/noncon discussion

[extramortem]

( being asked that outright makes makoto want to fully cringe out of his skin.

though, not because he’s above it. at this point, he doesn’t really think he’s above anything; he’d known, after fucking J’s guts and later his throat, that he’d found things like that far too incredible and thrilling to feel entirely satisfied by anything “normal.” it’s what had pushed him towards finally agreeing that his contract was satisfied. in that, J’s gambit had succeeded. if anything, makoto is anxious about learning just how deep the depths of his own personal depravity might go—his fear being that, once he goes past the line he’s kept drawn in the sand for himself over the last few years, there is no bottom. he’ll just keep plummeting into something unrecognizable.

so, is this a good idea? it probably won’t be the last time he thinks this. but it’s not pressing enough to get him to call it off. )

I—don’t know, ( there’s this kind of half-choked quality to this voice which indicates how strange and uncomfortable it is talking about this. even when he’d been contracted with J, he hadn’t really risen to the demon’s goads and quips and jabs about what he’d been doing. giving voice to it somehow made it feel more real and present, which make him nervous; even as a demon, keeping it secret felt imperative to the point of necessity. )

I don’t usually plan it out… ( even his decision to fuck J’s guts when he was still human had largely been spur-of-the-moment. sure, he’d thought about it plenty, but it had been a sudden crystallization of will and boldness. in this, though, he’s not sure—it would probably just depend on what was available? situation? opportunity? ) But, I mean, yeah. I’d have to… um. I guess I might want to fuck it, or otherwise, just, deal with it myself…

cw continues for a while probably

[smokedout]

[Dodger tips his head, considering this information as if it's completely value-neutral. If they want it fresh and warm enough for Makoto to fuck it, it makes the most sense to bring him along, but that makes it harder to ambush someone. The other option is dragging them back to Makoto still alive, but he doesn't want to sit here and watch the young demon have another moral panic over looking someone in the eyes while they die.

It is probably the cleanest solution, though. He'll just have to make sure his payment is worth the effort.]

No wonder you ended up wrapped up with a demon... you need plans, dumbass, otherwise you get your shit stomped in and you don't finish your kill.

[Why is he lecturing this kid like Dodger's his dad... he just shakes his head.]

So. Payment. Auction wiped your savings out. How about you suck me off for it? Blood gets me hard, you can fix that and give me a card. Then we're even.

[Surprise surprise, trading cards is always going to be the easiest way to get Dodger to do anything.]

[extramortem]

( really, makoto would want it fresh and warm as possible for eating first and foremost—it’s the whole reason he’s agreed to this rather than just sadly eating the butchered meat he’d been given. his personal definition for fucking the corpse was also pretty broad… if they weren’t going to be alive to complain about it, it’s more than likely that he’d go for far less conventional means. still, the reason he rarely thought such a thing through was that how he decided to finish himself off never seemed half as important as indulging in his kinks; a perfunctory end, though one he knew he could use to chase additional thrill.

more closely involving the demon in the “hunt” is a risk, though. dodger’s assumption that watching someone die might trigger his anxiety and guilt on the subject is pretty accurate. it’s so much more digestible (heh) when someone else does all the dirty work for you, out of sight and out of mind.

he bristles at the admonishment. ) Summoning him was part of my plan. I can’t help it that he decided to go off-script last minute.

( it’s not like he’s planning on killing anyone anyway. this is… a loophole. a single-use loophole. and that’s fine. he has other options, and he knows he prefers the living to the dead anyway.

it’s about the type of payment he expected. he fights back an instinct to make some sort of derisive noise; given what he’s getting out of it, it wasn’t necessarily a bad trade. even if he does wonder if dodger is either crazy (crazier?) or simply inattentive in saying he wants the guy with the self-professed cannibalism fetish to suck him off, but, well… he still probably wouldn’t go through with anything untoward. probably. it’s always a bit of a coin toss whenever his self-preservation is stacked against his vindictive bitterness. )

Okay. Fine. We have a deal.

( he probably shouldn’t have said that. in the Golden Peacock, there are plenty of rules and laws that he’s not subject to, not currently being in hell. this one, though? this has to do with what he is now. a deal or contract, be it written or verbal, is binding; humans might be able to renege, but makoto feels the binding of the agreement tighten around the fabric of his being. for a demon, breaking such a thing was tantamount to death.

after a quiet moment’s consideration, something occurs to him: ) You’re not going to watch, are you?

[smokedout]

[Honestly, he's not being inattentive, exactly, just reckless - Makoto's probably not the most dangerous mouth he's stuck his dick into. Here, or at home.

Dodger's eyes light up with interest - he might not know exactly what Makoto's feeling, but he's got a lot of general knowledge about demons to fall back on. He identifies as one, after all, whenever he isn't literally in their company. Having the word deal in the air between them feels meaningful, in a way that would likely just be a private joke for himself with another mortal.]

Up to you. I've got better things to do, but I don't mind snapping some photos if you want them for your spank bank later.

[He says it's up to Makoto, but only because he's deeply conflicted. He wants to watch, maybe participate... but it's the demon's eyes again, stopping him from committing to it. Making him perfectly willing to actually leave if Makoto doesn't want him around, rather that staying invisible like he might with someone else.]

[extramortem]

( true… but is he the only one who actually has bitten off someone’s dick and eaten it? hm. it’s those that underestimate makoto for his apparent weakness that are always surprised when his streak of vindictive cruelty overpowers his wariness and possesses him.

regardless, it’s probably easy enough to pick up on that something has happened with that slip of the tongue, because makoto’s body language has gone rigid and closed-off. his expression contorts into something sour, though it’s entirely self-directed—he’s furious that he walked into something like that, especially when he knew better. if a demon avoided certain words, they could give themselves more leeway, but… he doesn’t know. it’d just felt like it’d tumbled out of him, like it was the right thing for him to say. stupid.

well, it’s not like he’d planned on trying to break the arrangement in the first place. he just hates the feeling of being beholden to it, the makeshift contract feeling like an invisible, intangible net cast around him.

as much as he wants to say no… is there really any saving face at this point? )

I, ah—maybe, but I’d need to know that you deleted them after you sent them to me.

( like hell is he going to let someone like dodger wander around with blackmail material like that. not wittingly or willingly, anyway.

his own opinion on the matter actually isn’t an easy answer to find. he’d absolutely hated it when J had watched when fjord had taken his virginity, but… that was very different. it had also been J. is it better or worse that dodger is someone he only sort of knows, has an odd and intimate insight into due to the nature of their first meeting, and also kind of hates because of the injured shoulder and bruised ribs he’d given him? )

I usually don’t like it, but, um… ( his shoulders roll in a shrug, and he sighs, ) well, once I start, I’m probably not going to notice or care. ( he becomes a bit of a different sort of person when he finally lets go on all those tangled inhibitions. )

That, and if you go wandering off, it’s going to make it kind of inconvenient to settle this debt.

( there’s no time specified on the deal, so it’s not like those bindings would tighten into a noose. it’s not pleasant to have that held over him, though, so… yeah. he’d like to just settle it as quickly as possible. )

[smokedout]

[Dodger's eyes flicker with interest. Makoto is conscious of not wanting blackmail, and that has Dodger respecting him a little more. Even if he still thinks of him as a dumb, weak kid, he can see some potential there.]

Sure. You can watch me delete them.

[Fortunately for Makoto, Dodger isn't particularly tech-savvy. Definitely not enough to sleight-of-hand and copy those photos before he deletes them.

He's even more interested, hearing that Makoto will probably lose himself once he's got a corpse in front of him. That does sound like a sight worth sticking around for.]

I'll stick around, then. Should be a good show. In the meantime - wait here.

[Dodger doesn't actually wait for an answer, before his form bursts apart into flames with a loud POP and disappears. Give him... fifteen minutes, maybe twenty, before he reappears with one of the long-standing guests lifted over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He picked a man a little taller than himself, relatively lean and well-muscled, and currently unconscious. His other hand is still holding his hatchet, and he raises it in a mock-salute.]

There. Your choice - strangulation or beheading?

[extramortem]

( regardless of how physically scrawny or weak makoto may be, he had distinguished himself by surviving for at least five or six months in hell before being brought here—he isn’t sure how long other humans-turned-demons had lasted, but based on what some of his clients had told him, it didn’t seem like very long at all. there was a reason that J had taken a particular interest in him. makoto may think that it had just been some cruel lark, a decision more fueled by wanting a plaything to torment to while away the time more than anything else, but… makoto is a strange, chimerical creature, and he’d been one even when he’d been human. he has all the raw material to become a cutthroat, initialed demon of hell; he’d just been taken out of it before those troublesome, empathetic layers around his heart had been winnowed away.

regardless, making sure someone didn’t have obvious dirt on him is basic; he’d known that even before being made into a demon. ) …Okay, then.

( he’d just have to make sure they were hidden deep enough in his Watch’s file infrastructure that they’d never show up unexpectedly…

as much as it still makes his skin crawl to think of having someone watch him, he doesn’t argue anymore; it feels like the best way to handle the situation. so, after dodger disappears in a loud sound and a puff of smoke, makoto… slowly wraps his head around what he’s agreed to. he finds a place to sit down, body language tense and coiled. if the way that he typically acts is like a long skein of bandages that he usually keeps so densely wrapped around the core of his being that no one can properly see it, he spends this time slowly unwinding that, relaxing his fears and doing what he can to discard his worries.

the bright, sharp, vivid eagerness that begins to grow in the pit of his stomach helps with that.

when dodger reappears with the unconscious body of a man slung over his shoulder, makoto’s eyes slide to that body with exacting precision. when he had been human, contracted with J, there had been many times in which his eyes had clouded over to an almost lambent gray; as colorless and lightless as some deep-sea creature pulled from the depths of the ocean’s trenches. his eyes may have changed, but that quality of theirs has not. there’s something alien and remote in his expression and in his gaze that hadn’t been there before; it reveals itself again when he replies sharply to the question. )

Don’t behead him. ( and just in case dodger thinks he’s being soft in this decision, he continues, lip raising ever-so-slightly in a sneer, ) He’d lose too much blood.

( how much blood his own mortal body had lost when J had ripped his head off is vivid in his memories. he isn’t entirely sure if he’s right, but if a body loses a lot of blood, it’s likely to cool faster, right? especially since the weather in the Vale is already chillier than he wishes it was. )

Can’t you just break his neck? ( makoto gets to his feet. ) Otherwise… strangle him, I guess. ( his main reproach there is that he’s always heard it takes longer to strangle someone to death than you think it does.

it’s not that he’s suddenly shed all of his guilt. it still prickles deep inside of his chest, stabbing out at him with a feeling of sickly, radiating anxiety. but it feels relatively small and distant. these guests are just as trapped in the stomach of this resort as the rest of them are, right? he would have to assume that they, just the same as the rest of them, won’t stay dead. so it’s nothing to worry about—or so he assuages himself. )

SLAMS BACK IN HERE INCREDIBLY LATE--

[smokedout]

[Fair point. If the problem is not wanting the body to get cold too quickly, then they should keep its head on. He could likely warm it back up, but he knows that's not the same thing.]

Breaking his neck won't kill him. But sure, it'll stop him from struggling.

[He lets the man fall to the ground unceremoniously, and nudges him onto his back with a foot. Then Dodger leans down, pulling him up to snap his neck sideways with a sick crunch. It definitely strains the skin around his neck, with how far Dodger has to twist it, but it's still better than a decapitation. And once he's satisfied, he lays the man back down with a hand clamped over his throat. It's better to use multiple methods, anyway - humans are shockingly resilient creatures.]

Unconsciousness would have happened in less than a minute, but we won't be sure he's dead for about six minutes.

[For someone of Makoto's stature, he'd be worried about him not being able to hold down the man's windpipe for that long. In Dodger's case, this barely takes any effort at all. More than anything, it's just annoying that they have to sit here waiting for it.]

Might as well start playing with him now - not like he can stop you.

🔞

[extramortem]

( makoto not really wanting it “warmed back up” in that kind of way was what had gotten them into this situation in the first place, wasn’t it?

regardless, the way that makoto replies to the blink indicates that… maybe he hadn’t been entirely aware of that. not that he doesn’t believe dodger. clearly, he has experience at this where makoto doesn’t; it would make sense that pop culture and media wouldn’t be strictly accurate about the best and easiest ways to kill a human being. the only thing he feels like he’s gleaned is that it’s a lot harder than you think it is (just in a physical sense, setting aside whatever moral quandaries one might have).

despite how hesitant and uncertain he’d acted before, makoto doesn’t react much to the way that their victim is treated. the unconscious body is dropped to the ground, flipped over. he does flinch at the sudden snap that his neck makes, just how quickly it all happens—but the wide stare of his eyes is more darkly fascinated than disgusted. ultimately, looking at the unseemly angle of the stranger’s head and the crushing weight with which dodger presses his hand down over his throat, the primary thing that surprises makoto is… how much he doesn’t really feel anything at all. no guilt, no fear, no disgust, but also not really any sick thrill—perhaps if he were the one robbing the man’s life from him, he’d feel more engaged in it, but as it is… he feels adrift from it. not necessarily in a bad way. but in a way that would make him nervous just for how easy, how simple, how rote this could all become if he let it.

up to six minutes, huh…?

that he might stay alive for so long is, to makoto, a good thing. even before dodger makes his suggestion, the young demon is sinking to his knees alongside the body. his gaze hasn’t budged from his neck. he doesn’t reply, hesitating for just a moment before extending a hand—it passes past dodger’s, clamped over his windpipe, instead questing with his fingertips at the sick and terrible twist to the man’s neck, the odd angle of his head. his breath flutters as it leaves him, a faint rosiness clouding over his cheeks. )

R—Right.

( his attention unfreezes, scanning downwards along the body, pausing as he tries to sort through about a half-dozen increasingly loud and pointed instincts to find what he would do next. that step is easiest. he tugs at clothing—vest, jacket, shirt—whatever the man might’ve been wearing is either undone or ultimately cut away in a twinge of impatience as makoto draws the same small knife he’d tried to stab dodger with on their first meeting from where he hides it on his person. he bares the man’s chest, which he similarly drifts his eyes and fingers along, a low and incredible buzz beginning to rumble through his veins as he realizes that this is real, this is happening—that he has to decide what he wants to do first.

makoto is not a monster of half-measures. his blood hadn’t even been dry on his contract before he’d set to ripping J in half—if it’d been the violence, or the spectacle of the explosive gore, or the ease of entry on how to begin to eat him… he couldn’t say. he can’t remember. all of that might’ve been part of it.

for now, he sets the fastidiously-honed blade of the knife against the skin just above the breastbone. his breath catches as he applies pressure, the hot well of blood springing up around the edge as if in mutual eagerness, following in a thick, seeping line as he drags the cut open wider, towards his navel. the person is muscled well enough that he isn’t sure he’s cut through the flesh into the cavity below in many more places than just a few, but that doesn’t matter to him right now—he can always cut deeper, and for now he’s too rapt and fixated on the blood, on the unseemly eroticism of how skin, flesh, and muscle separates into layers, pale, pink, and flush with ubiquitous blood. he dips his other hand into the wound, and as he feels along that newly-opened seam, he seems to realize that he’s stopped breathing. he starts again with a soft, sudden gasp at that sensation of slick heat. when his breaths continue, they are uneven and faintly ragged, cut off as he lifts his hand to his mouth to suck on his bloodied fingers. his eyes are barely open to guide the path of the knife as he crudely cuts a small piece of bloodied flesh away, which he pushes into his mouth with a small, crushed-sounding moan. the metallic taste of blood coating his tongue, the taste and give of the meat as he chews it—the strong surge of tantalizing pleasure it sends through him, primarily sinking to his hips and his stiffening cock, is bizarrely nostalgic.

really, flesh isn’t what makoto is all that interested in. for those in the Golden Peacock able and willing to allow him to indulge his kinks on their bodies, flesh is typically what they give him. and he still gets off on that, sure, but the thing about being restricted to one thing is that what is typically forbidden becomes that more intense in its allure—it’s utterly fixating to him that he will be able to push further here, to eat as much as he possibly can of the man’s guts, organs, and viscera, but in this moment he’s… working up to that. a small tease, wakening and focusing that desire to fever pitch. )

[smokedout]

[As soon as that cut opens, and the scent of blood fills the air around them, Dodger's detached boredom starts to shift. There's appreciation for Makoto's knife skills - not perfect, but that's definitely a steady cut - and excitement over the view he's getting, like watching a snuff film. Despite the life he's been living, he doesn't get many chances to watch other people indulge in his more depraved interests, and that makes this a rare treat.

Mindlessly, he licks his lips - really, in general, he's starting to look like a dog watching its owner eat steak. His gaze follows that bit of flesh and then locks onto Makoto's lips, appreciating the way his mouth moves while he chews. It's not that Dodger's been in short supply of human meat, it's just a fully different beast to watch someone else eat it, and it has his breath picking up while his cock slowly starts to fill.]

If you keep taking little bites like that, it's gonna go cold.

[He's trying not to rush him, but he just wants to see more. Bigger bites, or Makoto's hands digging into the man's stomach.]

[extramortem]

( as far as makoto is concerned, dodger basically isn’t even there.

well, no, that’s not entirely true. he’s aware of the man’s presence in the same way that one would be aware of the droning of a fly in the same room—distant, annoying, but not bothersome enough to do anything about. so he just doesn’t think of him very much in this moment, instead focusing entirely on what he’s doing, on the beautiful and macabre way that this body is slowly blooming open with the efforts of his hands and knife. he’s no professional, and it’s been a long time since he had so much freedom and leeway, but there had been several occasions during his month contracted to J in which his carnal desires had ebbed enough for him to be instead motivated by morbid curiosity. he’d butchered him with single-minded, rapt attention; for some reason, he remembers the moment where he’d realized that his hands no longer shook from the wild energy that possessed him at finally being able to sate those desires he thought he’d never be able to indulge. even if it has been years by this point, he’s almost comforted to find that he can still cut with confidence. it had been fun the one time, but he never wanted to do something like launch into tearing someone in half at the very start ever again. talk about wasteful, and not to mention how demons would look down on losing one’s composure.

dully, he is aware that dodger is talking to him. what’s funny to him is that that, too, somehow manages to be nostalgic. J had nagged him constantly when they’d been contracted together; even when makoto had cut the demon’s eyes and tongue out of his head, he’d managed to keep talking at him. he’d long since learned to tune him out…

he’s tempted to do so again now, especially since he pieces together that he’s got some opinion about how he’s doing this. he’s too fixated to even bristle. he returns the knife back to that seam he’d opened up in the man’s chest, and though it seems he might not reply, he does end up doing so several long seconds later, ) Our deal didn’t include commentary.

( what’s a little more unsettling about the dispassionate way he speaks is that it’s at total odds with the rest of him. it would be obvious to anyone within ten feet how affected makoto is by this, but… there is a strange dichotomy between the fervent heat of his body and the serpentine coldness of his mind.

the knife cuts deeper, because he would have done so anyway. he has to pay very close attention when cutting into the abdominal cavity, using his fingertips just as much as his eyes to make sure that he cuts through muscle and viscera and not into the offal resting beneath. he is careful enough to start the cut with the knife and widen it with his hands, but he’s rewarded with that window tearing open to the beautiful interior of the gut, red and pink and still pulsing and quivering with life (which the poor victim is, by this point, struggling to maintain, but that’s just details). makoto’s breath tumbles out of him in a rush; a shudder of unmitigated lust rattles through him. for the moment, he sets the knife aside, freeing him up to sink both hands into the twitching mess. he handles the warm shapes of those organs with the same lurid devotion one would a long-lost lover. he keeps exploring with one hand as he tangles into the intestines with the other, tugging them free of the mass and pulling them up towards his face as he bends over to eat.

he pushes the offal into his mouth, tongue entangling; his eyes lid nearly closed as he sucks lasciviously on them for just a moment, enjoying those sensations of heat, of fresh blood, of life itself still running through the still-living organ. it’s that that he wants more than anything else, yearning for and dreaming of, too inhibited by his own harsh constraints to get this opportunity more often than a few times a year. it’s just been too long. why the fuck does he do that? if something feels so incredible, so thrilling, so perfect, shouldn’t it be done all the time? the throb of his cock is almost painful. that want spurs him forward, causing him to tear the bite away with hands and teeth—chewing, swallowing—his quick, heated breath puffs through his nose before escaping all in a rush through his bloodied mouth. he’s losing that composure that he’d been hoping to keep, but he doesn’t really care. he just wants to eat—to take everything that is beautiful and entrancing and arousing held safe and secret within the body and to consume it, to make it his and only his. he reaches for more, another bite and then another, as the life slowly ebbs away from the body. )