Red Death Phantom Of The Opera Costume 소설 & 이야기

I loved being part of the plan making. We both got dressed in our costumes. Lucas wore a white long sleeve shirt with brown trousers and suspenders, looking just like Jack. I had on the iconic purple and white dress with pink sash around my ribs that she wore the night the ship sank. Since it's cold in New York for Halloween I had on the coat that Jack gave Rose part way through the night. "Are you ready Rose?" He asked, holding his arm out for me to take. "Ready, Jack." I grabbed it, getting into character with him.

A mix of elegance and eerie mystery. My dress was black and deep crimson velvet, flaring theatrically beneath the lace corset. My intricate mask was metallic gold, with swirls of black and red around the eyes. My hair was curled in loose ringlets and threaded with small feathers and satin ribbons. A painted-on smile in burgundy lipstick curled across my lips. "Tell me that’s not badass," I said, striking a pose. "You look like you stepped straight out of a Tim Burton opera," Zanele said.

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.

Every guest was adorned in extravagant attire, their faces concealed behind masks that ranged from eerily beautiful to unsettlingly grotesque. Evelyn lifted her own mask—black, sculpted in the likeness of a phoenix’s wing. Its feathers stretched outward, shimmering with a subtle iridescence under the dim lights. She had chosen her ensemble carefully: a chiffon gown that melted from black to a deep, smoldering red, its one-shoulder design leaving a delicate expanse of skin exposed. Shimmering sequins traced the strap that ran across her right shoulder, catching the light with each movement. A Victorian lace choker, adorned with black diamonds, encircled her slender neck.

My gaze lifts to the top of the stairs as I seek to find who has everyone in a daze, and the drink nearly falls from my hand. One woman descends the stairs. Her dress is unlike anything I have ever seen. Red so deep, it could be blood. Woven into it intricately are threads of gold, spreading out like the tendrils of ivy that crawl up the castle walls. They catch in the light and my breath gets stuck in my throat as it begins to glow. My eyes drop as she takes another step down the stairs. Her waist is surreal in that corset and my fingers furl and unfurl as I imagine my fingers around its slim width. It’d fit perfectly.

But it was extremely difficult because everyone was wearing a mask. I felt a presence next to me and turned my head to the right to look at the person. This young lady was dressed in a blood-red gown with beadings on her chest and a black lace feather mask. Scarlet! I recall her reaction when she saw that gown in the boutique. She fell in love with it right away and gushed about how Patrick adores the color red and how she was going to blow his mind with it. It's also ironic that her outfit corresponds to her name.

The figure on the stage. A molten fire dress. Deep red silk, bright and consuming, clinging unto the frame of my model. Every line, curve and stitch, a statement to the weeks of effort and sleepless nights Mae and I endured. Regal in every way! Commanding even, as she spilled unto the dark stage.

Not when it's being controlled by people who are in the business of murder. So, I'm determined to spite Mikhail and chose a bright red evening dress with a deep, plunging neckline that leaves nothing to the imagination. The color clashes with my hair, but I don't care. I swirl in front of the triple mirrors on the closet wall. I look like a she-devil sent to torture him. I stop moving around and frown at my reflection. It looks more like a Halloween costume than an avenging dark angel.