【 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 mid-rank suites for all new arrivals. We ask current mid-rank guests to welcome any new arrivals that may temporarily be assigned to their room while we process reservations.
Exciting news! The Phoenix Casino has undergone a renovation. Guests are invited to come enjoy refreshed facilities, games, and lounges. We don't think you'll ever want to leave!
Additionally, the casino will be hosting an upper rank soiree at the end of the month. All guests rank 9 and above are invited to attend. Any +1s of low rank may only attend as a pet or personal attendant. Otherwise, low ranks are not welcome.
We aim to have all guests moved into their suites as soon as possible. We deeply apologize for any inconvenience! 】
▶ BLANKET CW: alcohol; anonymous; BDSM; confessions; costumes; dubcon; entrapment; gambling, hierarchy; pet play; power dynamics; public sex; punishment; sex toys; supernatural
▶ 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 March 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.
▶ 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.
▶ 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 strongly suggest leaving a note in your top level of any limits or boundaries for other players to reference.
( his hands, balled into fists, give one last push to the door--but nothing happens. the lock's engaged, maybe, or someone's on the other side, holding them hostage like some kind of bully, someone desperate to trap them in together when he's been doing his best to avoid eye contact with everyone in this place, to keep from getting caught in one room too long with someone else. that's not to say that he hasn't been looking, observing, watching from a distance with the same kind of lurching unpleasantness in his stomach that he feels now, faced with a talking painting, of all things.
this is the kind of stuff they have in comic books and animated movies, not the kind of things he experiences in real life; it must be some kind of dream. this is all some kind of horrible nightmare, the kind that he would rather wake up from immediately.
those who have trampled upon virtue should be heavily punished!
his shoulders sag, as he turns away from the door--and it's only there that he gets his first look at whoever it is trapped in there with him. guilty, his gaze jerks up and then back down again, staring at the tiled bathroom floor, the line of sinks, the hand dryers and trash bins. is he supposed to say something? is he supposed to do something?
the dipping shadow of his bangs helps hide his eyes from view; he wants to pretend like he'll wake up any second, but the painting--how the hell is the painting even talking--clears its throat, expect, and demands again: your greatest sin, you people! i know you heard me!
taking a step forward, away from the door, his mouth twists into a grimace. ) I think...we're just gonna have'ta do what it says.
( his chin lifts, a distant glance at the painting--which glares right back at him, until he looks at his companion again. ) It's okay. Whatever you tell me, I'll pretend it's not true. I don't mind taking the punishment.
ii. SLOTS: BLACK.
( dinging bells and trilling melodies crash together in the casino: overwhelming, but even worse the closer that he gets to the actual machines. at least the game tables are adequately terrifying enough that he doesn't even bother peeking curiously at their contents; he's seen people rolling dice and stripping down, kissing, sucking, biting--and all that had been more than enough for him to decide that it would be too risky to even circle the perimeter.
instead, he's walking around the long lines of slot machines, observing players, trying to look more like he belongs and less like he's a seventeen-year old thrown into a world that doesn't make sense. at least the staff had responded relatively politely to his request for better clothing: he looks like he's dressed for school, a pair of well-fitted slacks and a stiff white button-down, the sleeves cuffed at his wrists, and compared to some of the grandeur--and skin--he's seen other guests bearing, he considers himself lucky.
less lucky, apparently, than the person whose machine he walks past. the screen flashes, chiming out loud that a task has been chosen!, and the little glass screen rotates and spins with words, instead of symbols. squinting, he eases a step closer as though to read it from behind them--the first task he can't read, but the second spins with WITH A DARK-HAIRED PARTNER and he doesn't wait to read the last one.
he immediately pivots to try to move forward--and nearly crashes into a staff member carrying a tray with cocktails, knocking his head down into a quick bow as though he can excuse himself before it becomes obvious that he fits the bill for the slot machine's task. )
S-sorry. ( he mumbles to the staff, who huffs and straightens up their tray, leaving him there without recourse; naturally, his gaze slides back to the machine, then back again with another mumble-- ) Uh. Congratulations, I guess.
iii. PEACOCK LOUNGE.
( it would be too convenient to be seated at a table by himself. he knows this, but wishes on the impossible anyway: he steps into the peacock lounge and immediately feels his shoulders deflate in relief. there are no strange games here, no odd acts being performed in his vicinity, nothing to worry that he doesn't understand. it looks--like a regular bar, or something similar, the kind of glamorous hole in the wall that would be found on some random street in tokyo, or such is his assumption. the bars in his hometown aren't nearly as packed as this, and not nearly as well decorated, either: at least as far as he can tell from the outside.
a cheerful staff member asks if he's alone--which is a good sign, he hopes--and leads him to a table. it's only once they arrive that he realizes he's not, in fact, lucky: that nothing here is a good sign, and nothing here is designed for an introvert who would rather tuck himself into a dark corner and have an iced tea alone. there's company, seated at this table, and he gives the staff an almost sour look of displeasure as she walks off, leaving him there to deal with--this.
maybe it's just crowded tonight. his hands curl over the back of the chair, staring at the table--and the little book in the center with its title printed in helpfully bold gold letters: DATE NIGHT QUESTIONS.
no. it's not because it's crowded. it's because his subconscious hates him. )
...Are you expecting anyone else? ( it's terse, but polite, because he doesn't want to sit if he's about to embarrass himself; his gaze finally lifts to the other person at the table. ) 'm sorry for intruding.
( another staff member immediately pivots forward to give him an encouraging shove in the back--his knees crack into the chair, and his mouth fits into a frown as he curves around it to sink down and sit at the table properly. )
...Guess I'm suppose'ta be intruding. ( he's trying hard not to slip back into his country boy dialect, but this situation is too weird to have a full hold on it. ) Do you want something to drink? Ah. You already have a drink. Then...
OOC & WILDCARD.
i'm open to any other prompts not included here, so feel free to write up a wildcard starter & i'll roll with it! for prompt one, please be warned that yoshiki's admission may involve attempted murder or other violence. for prompt two, please feel free to pick any of the slot machine tasks/locations! ota in terms of age, yoshiki is 17. m/m only for smut, but happy to thread with f! canonpoint is the end of s1 anime. i prefer tags that are on the longer side, with more detail than not, and i'm liable to drop a thread if i'm not getting what i'm giving in terms of detail and participation in the thread. feel free to send me a PM if you have any questions!
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peacockstop2026-03-15 02:11 pm
tsujinaka yoshiki | the summer hikaru died | existing player, new character