So. After two months of enforced social isolation nd being this mysterious idiot in a flight-suit I start to go stir crazy. I get the bright idea to go to a local con. Now, my name with the local con-scene was a little but mudd after the Athacon debacle but I needed to get out, so I registered as Priscila Stingray. No real name policy required.
It took twety minutes to scoot down.
"Ooh, I love your cosplay..."
"Is that suit handwaved. How'd you make it?"
I amn't used to being the centre of attention and Friday got a little bit weird with people asking to touch my armour and what it was made of, and maybe I didn't realise at the time how hard I was getting creeped on because I had such a different body image (which led to a problem when I drank myself sick that night - 5 pitchers has to go somewhere) but I started to ease into it on the Saturday, enjoying the photographs and meeting the guests and that feel of just being at the centre of the whole social situation rather than orbiting. For the first time in months I felt sane again, almost normal as if I could take the suit off and be myself rather than have ll the hardware ticking in my brain.
Sunday however - wel - on Sunday someone got jealous and joined up the dots, and that's when the police were called.
------
(I'm at a con at the moment....)
________________________________
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?
It took twety minutes to scoot down.
"Ooh, I love your cosplay..."
"Is that suit handwaved. How'd you make it?"
I amn't used to being the centre of attention and Friday got a little bit weird with people asking to touch my armour and what it was made of, and maybe I didn't realise at the time how hard I was getting creeped on because I had such a different body image (which led to a problem when I drank myself sick that night - 5 pitchers has to go somewhere) but I started to ease into it on the Saturday, enjoying the photographs and meeting the guests and that feel of just being at the centre of the whole social situation rather than orbiting. For the first time in months I felt sane again, almost normal as if I could take the suit off and be myself rather than have ll the hardware ticking in my brain.
Sunday however - wel - on Sunday someone got jealous and joined up the dots, and that's when the police were called.
------
(I'm at a con at the moment....)
________________________________
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?