Persona 3 Mask Novels & Stories

Alex interrupted. “The mask allows us to shift into anything we want, both human and animal alike—something an ordinary shifter isn’t incapable of,” Jeffrey enunciated. “T-Murek seems like the only member who doesn’t wear a mask. Could it be that the face he is wearing is not his real face?” Derik thought aloud, interrupting.

A majestic and ruthless cold aura exudes from him, giving one the urge to subconsciously bow to him. On the man’s face was a sleek and metallic cold, black mask that had intricate, sharp, fierce yet minimalistic designs that made it seem as if it wanted to come alive. The mask's eye cutouts are sharp, revealing the man's piercing, deep, and frigid blue eyes. The mask edges were sharp and precise, enhancing the man's intimidation, majesty, coldness, and ruthlessness.

The jawline below the mask is the same shape. The second said: it is the lower half of her face. Look at the jaw and the set of the mouth. Same shape. Tell me I am wrong. The third said: you are all reaching. The mask covers half her face. You cannot compare two photos where one person is wearing a mask and say they look the same. That is not how identification works.

The guy pulled off his sunshade, blonde brows slightly pinched. “I need that girl from three months ago.” His brows burrowed further, quite puzzled, “what girl, Mr. Carter? You’ve had different girls three months ago.” “She was wearing a mask. A white mask with gold dots on them. Only her eyes and lips which were painted red were exposed. I…I don’t know her features that well.” I did my best to explain all I saw that night. “She’s slim, kind of small with nice curves and shapely legs.”

Mom rarely swore, but when she did, it was comedy gold. “Thanks, Mom,” I whispered, pulling away and sliding my white mask over my face. It was beautifully crafted: two silver wolves howling at the moon etched into the forehead, with thin black detailing that traced the cheekbones. The mask made me feel different—stronger, bolder. Like maybe I could fake bravery for one night. “I’m going to find Alpha and Luna Silvermane,” she said, squeezing my hand once before disappearing into the crowd. And just like that, the warmth of her touch vanished.

"Do you take this woman to be your wife, to stand by her through thick and thin?" "I do," the man said, his voice muffled by the mask. The guests whispered in awe. Howard Larson, the Larson family's big shot, was so in love with me that he would not let a bad cold stop our big day. He did not want to disappoint me. "Wait a second." The man's eyes darted around, and his forehead was dotted with sweat. I smiled and asked, "Howard, you're looking a bit pale. Too busy with the wedding to remember your medicine?"

As Cassiopeia put the mask on her face, it fits perfectly like it was made and customized for her only. ‘From this day, this mask will witness the greatest pretention of a woman betrayed and fooled by the people I trust. No tears will shed, only a glimpse of victory.’

The Masquerade mask was Harriet's special mask, a white snake mask with one eye hole on the right side. "Actually, this is my mother's mask," said Harriet quietly. She then smiled and held up another mask box. Harriet showed it to Liam who was still furrowing his brows at her previous words and opened the box. Another white mask appeared in their vision. It was a white wolf mask with golden stripes around its eyes. Harriet smiled proudly showing the mask design. It was the one she ordered yesterday, which turned out to be perfect and ready at just the right time. "This is for me?" Liam asked.

Chapter three- His Mask Third-person POV She looks at the performer dumbfounded by the singer who has a hat on and a mask on his face, he smiles in her way and she can see it from the way his eyes were shining in her way. Seconds later, she holds her chest as she feels her heart beating faster and her chest tightening. So she walks towards the performers and stands at the tip of the platform, she doesn’t stop there but walks forward.

My eyes dip lower taking in his tight black slacks and black dress shoes and it takes all my self-control not to steal a peak at the goods. A guy who is that ripped is either overcompensating for something or… he just wants the rest of him to match up to what he was born with, and I’m unsure which, but I know which one I’m hoping for. Before my thoughts can spiral out of control in the cesspool that is my depraved mind, I notice the people next to him. To his left is someone who I can only tell has dark espresso-like skin because of the colour of their hands, which are currently very busy. Their face is hidden behind the most incredible mask I’ve ever seen. It’s black metal, shaped like a sh