The amber glow of the late afternoon sun threatened to spill over the rooftops of Neo-Verva, a sprawling city of shimmering steels and holographic billboards. Towering spires carved into intricate shapes competed with an endless sea of lights. Somewhere within the labyrinth of winding streets, a throng of people surged toward the grandiose Hall of Chrysalis, where one of the world’s most celebrated cosplay competitions was about to commence. The domed glass roof of the hall gleamed like a jewel, reflecting a kaleidoscope of colors from artificial butterflies programmed to swarm the skies above.
Standing in the shadow of the colossal entrance was Cassian Vega, his reflection rippling over the golden mosaic steps before him. He adjusted the sleek navy-blue jacket slung over his shoulder, his other hand clasping the hem of a black-and-silver chiffon gown layered with cascading feathers. The weight of the wig swirled like liquid silk against his narrow shoulders, and the contouring makeup across his sharp cheekbones softened his angles into something almost ethereal. He caught sight of his reflection in one of the Chase Stadium’s many glass panes: a pair of storm-gray eyes staring back at him, surrounded by a frame of kabuki-red lips and shimmering gold eyelids. Androgynously ambiguous, yet alluringly radiant.
Today, Cassian wasn’t just Cassian. Today, he was embodying Lady Eleuthra, the desert priestess from “Eclipsed Eternity,” an RPG whose cult fandom spanned continents. While fans adored her metamorphic powers and her tragic backstory, few dared attempt her iconic ensemble, an intricate blend of translucent gauze layered with gold-tipped scales. But Cassian had spent months recreating every detail—embroidering the gold filament by hand, painting each scale with molten wax, and assembling her jeweled headdress from shattered crystals scavenged from secondhand stores.
Yet, standing on the precipice of the grand hall, doubt churned inside him like a growing storm. “You’re insane,” his best friend Ezra had texted earlier with a winking emoji. He’d tried to laugh it off, but deep down, he’d wondered: Was he insane? Was he risking ridicule?
A Stage Set for Drama
Inside the Hall of Chrysalis, thousands of fans crowded around an ornate runway draped in holographic roses that shifted colors like a living painting. The scent of electric lavender perfumed the air, piped in through diffusers hidden in every corner. Onscreen panels projected close-ups of the contestants walking the stage. Characters came to life: armored knights whose every joint sparkled with LEDs, wrestlers reimagined in Victorian regalia, sorceresses wielding staves glowing with circuitry magic—cosplay in Neo-Verva was more than a hobby; it was high art.
Cassian lingered near the velvet ropes, the crowd’s energy pulsing like a tidal wave against his chest. He adjusted his oversized sleeves, the tendrils of fabric swaying, then smoothed a loose lock beneath his headdress. His heels—a glimmering pair of silver stilettos—dug into the carpet. At six feet, Cassian was tall even in flats, but now, dressed in full regalia, his height gave Lady Eleuthra the regal majesty she deserved. His competition number, 117, hung in delicate script from his wrist like a silver charm.
“First-time jitters?” a voice asked behind him. Cassian turned to find a petite figure, an elven woman dressed in an icy-white gown embroidered with what appeared to be moving glaciers. She smiled warmly, her pixie cut dyed a striking aquamarine.
“Something like that,” Cassian replied, his voice deep compared to Lady Eleuthra’s. It faltered only slightly. The woman frowned, looking confused for a heartbeat before realization dawned in her eyes—and curiosity flickered in its place.
“You pull her off well,” she said simply. A compliment? An accusation? Her tone was ambiguous. Cassian chose to accept the kindness in it and smiled as a booming voice echoed over the hall.
The Moment of Truth
As Cassian stepped onto the stage, each footfall was a ripple in a dream. The faces blurred into a sea of expectant eyes, bright flashes from neon cameras momentarily blinding him. A hush descended over the crowd as he unfurled the trailing cape of his gown with both hands, stepping into a spinning pose that showcased every artisanal detail of his creation. The audience let out a collective gasp.
This was it. Months of sweat and sleepless nights culminated in this moment. He glanced briefly at the judges, who sat in rows of gilded chairs beneath hanging lanterns of violet flame. Some were nodding in approval. Others scribbled notes obsessively onto flexscreens. But it wasn’t their approval that hammered against Cassian’s chest; it was his own reflection flickering on the screens above, glimmering like an otherworldly deity.
“Stunning!” the competition host’s voice thundered through the speakers. “And our first genderbent cosplay of Lady Eleuthra in years!”
The crowd roared. He caught snippets of their commentary:
- “Wait, that’s a dude? No way!”
- “He nailed it perfectly.”
- “Bold… and gorgeous.”
Cassian spun one final time, the embroidered feathers of his gown catching the light and scattering it outward like golden fireflies. He took his bow just as a hologram of Lady Eleuthra hovered momentarily beside him. The moment froze: his silhouette and hers, the animated priestess looking as though she’d stepped from her game to anoint Cassian in his efforts. The audience erupted into thunderous applause, the sound reverberating against the domed ceiling.
The Aftermath
Backstage, he collapsed into a chair, kicking off his stilettos with a groan. His feet screamed relief as he peeled off his headdress and dabbed at his forehead with a cloth. To his surprise, Ezra burst through the door, grinning like a madman, waving his communicator ferociously.
“Cass! You’re trending everywhere,” Ezra panted, sprawling into the seat beside him with a loud huff. “You’ve got fans debating Eleuthra canon all over the holo-threads. People love you.”
“Not bad for someone insane,” Cassian deadpanned, a smile creasing his foundation-coated cheeks.
Ezra laughed, punching his arm lightly. “Nah, not insane. Brave.”
Cassian leaned back, exhausted but brimming with triumph. In this metropolis of steel and starlight, he’d dared to shed his skin and inhabit someone else’s, and what he’d gained was far more than applause. Somewhere between the embroidery and the makeup, between fear and resolve, he’d found his true self glimmering in borrowed scales.
The Source…check out the article that inspired this amazing short story: Can a male cosplay a female character?
Disclaimer: This article may contain affiliate links. If you click on these links and make a purchase, we may receive a commission at no additional cost to you. Our recommendations and reviews are always independent and objective, aiming to provide you with the best information and resources.
Exclusive Stories, Photos, Art & Offers - Subscribe Today!
Post Comment