Aphmau Costumes の小説・ストーリー

However, now that I thought of it, I didn't know why I'd been so reluctant after all. The costume shop had all sorts of hunting festival attire on display, such as capes cut from whole silver fox pelts, dark, long dresses embroidered with crescent moon hunting patterns, and more. I picked out a simple yet sturdy-looking garment. It felt solid and seemed suitable enough for carrying out long missions. As I was about to check the price on the tag, I suddenly heard Cynthia's voice from behind me. "Which one do you like, Layla? I'll pay for it for you."

Was that part of the challenge? Behind the twenty female Haunt emerged twenty dancers. These women were dressed identically in red harem pants and short vests. The pants were slit at both inner and outer thigh and cuffed at the heel. As they danced with their long, silken scarves, a strange, drugging perfume wafted over the men. Reminded of Andrea’s natural, desire-producing scent, Mathin blessed the Deity for his recent exposure. Hopefully the slight immunity he’d built up would serve him in good stead now.

AMARA'S POV The house was huge with more hallways and balconies than I could count. There were women and men dressed in the most outlandish costumes. The men with masks; the women without. There was a lot of food,drinks and conversation. What made it stand out from a normal party was the fact that almost everyone was holding a gun in plain sight. My eyes widened in surprise as I saw that even the women were not exempted. I saw some women holding sophisticated looking guns-like they knew how to use them.

Amari praised ALkhun. "Same goes for you." Amari blushed when she realized what Alkhun's servant asked her to wear. It was a formal long cream dress. With a crop top long blue blazer that's complimenting her dress. With her long white booths with blue at the points of it. On her kneck was a Berhalksawn green crest. Alkhun gave it to her. Her long brown hair was down and some of the servants put makeup on her faces that completely removed the Amari Alkhun knew.

I looked away before I could feel more than I already did. Because the longer I looked at Hasmik, the more I remembered the world Narine had walked away from, and the more it hurt to imagine her standing in it again. Then, from her seat beside me, my mother stood. Alphamaja. She wore a gown of gold and violet, the twin of my ceremonial colors, and her silver hair was pinned into a regal crown of braids. And as she raised her hand, the room fell into expectant silence.

Now that chance rested entirely on her trembling shoulders. --- The Plan Amara glanced down at her disguise—a tailored black dress that clung to her body, elegant but functional, paired with a fur-lined coat. Her hair was styled in loose waves, her lips painted a dangerous shade of crimson. To the casual observer, she looked like one of Lorenzo’s many female companions, the kind who flocked to him for wealth and protection. But beneath the folds of her coat, strapped against her thigh, was a blade. In the lining of her purse, a hidden recorder. And tucked inside her bra, a tiny earpiece that crackled with the faintest sound of static.

Amy had to crush down a wave of the purest, most painful jealousy. Aminata had returned to the unwanted armchair to drop her cloak over it. The complex garment beneath turned out to be three garments, a kaftan-like robe whose sea-green silk was shadow-striped with indigo and gold, a long skirt of the same material, and a scarlet silk shirt. The copious sleeves of the kaftan dropped in supple folds over the long scarlet sleeves of the shirt, and the whole effect was so brilliantly exotic that Amy found herself staring again.

Cosplay Theme: The Dark Swordsman. "You look cool," Harper laughed. She was dressed as a Cyber-Valkyrie (silver armor, neon wings). It hid her real weapons perfectly. "Blend in, Sebastian. Everyone here is wearing a costume. If we dress like normal civilians, the facial recognition will flag us instantly. The algorithms ignore 'fictional characters'." Jack walked behind them. He refused to wear a costume. Instead, he was carrying a massive, life-sized plushie of a Pikachu-like creature. "It shields my heat signature," Jack grumbled, hugging the yellow monstrosity. "Don't ask."

The theme had been meticulously chosen, reflecting the couple’s desire for a unique and memorable celebration. Khana, dressed as Carmilla, exuded an ethereal charm in her flowing red gown, her dark hair cascading in soft waves of night. Richard, standing tall beside her, looked every bit like Cecelion, his dark suit and dark black hair, giving him an air of mysterious elegance of a vampire. Though Khana had never played the game, she had spent hours browsing the internet, carefully selecting their costumes to ensure they made a striking pair.

The Mensah Moon Estate was massive, built like a fortified castle and dripping in modern mafia opulence, fully decorated with silver banners and fresh kills to celebrate Amara’s big day. Every high-ranking wolf in the room wore expensive tailored suits and heavy gold chains, except for Rapha. He stood out like a dying rogue, dressed in an oversized shirt and frayed jeans, his face covered in dark ash to mimic a sickness. He didn’t just disrupt the elegant mafia gathering—he completely shattered the illusion.