AnimeCon Harem Bonus: Invitations and Promises (Patreon)

“You made it!” Melanie jumped and gave Brian and Brady an energetic wave. “I knew you both would. You guys’re awesome.”

“Congratulations,” Jordyn grinned at the guys.

In the conference room adjacent to the enormous Cosplay Contest room, those selected to walk the stage had all gathered in. If the assortment of costumes in the previous line had been impressive, these were all only the best of the best; the cream of the crop. Almost everyone had turned to watch as Brian gingerly helped the Ogre King stoop down to get through the doorway.

“I, uh, actually didn’t make it,” Brian said, giving them an awkward laugh. “But, I’m sticking around as a handler and assist the Ogre King going up on stage.”

“What?! No way, you’re lying,” Melanie’s face fell. “How could you not make it? Even I made it. That one judge in the trenchcoat was super nice. If you talk to him, he’ll let you go up!”

Deep within the carved foam of the Ogre, Brady gave out a snort.

“Yeah, um. He actually didn’t like me very much,” Brian laughed. “But, it’s okay. I went up on stage year before last, and it was great. Everyone in here looks incredible, I’m really not a match for you guys this year.”

“I think you’re more than good enough,” Jordyn frowned. “Did they give you any reason?”

“Reason?” Brady spoke out again. “That middle judge had some sort of vendetta against him.”

“Eh, I wouldn’t go that far,” Brian said. “Brady, you need help sitting down in that thing?”

“What?” Melanie seemed aghast. “But, that’s totally not fair at all!”

“I actually can’t sit in this,” Brady sighed. “If you can help me shift one of these pieces, I would love to lean up against a chair back, though. My legs are killing me.”

“You got it, boss,” Brian said, already appropriating a nearby chair.

“Ogre King,” A soft voice called out, and a young woman in a long, flowing dress appeared as cosplayers on either side parted to make way for her. “Did they give you one of the awards?”

Kelly? Brian did a double-take on seeing her. No… that’s not Kelly. The resemblance is incredible, though. Or maybe it’s just the dress?

Like the Calamity Queen set Kelly had worn today, this girl’s flowing dress and careful makeup had a sinister air to them, inspiring very similar feelings of horror and veneration. A moment after realizing that this definitely wasn’t Kelly, it occurred to him what this girl was cosplaying—this was Vampire Princess Marcilla from Magi Hunter, and she looked perfectly spot-on. Maybe it’s just the way she did her makeup that looks so much like Kelly’s?

“Sarah Star!” Jordyn exclaimed in surprise.

Wow, really? Didn’t even recognize her this year, Brian thought to himself, impressed. Sarah simply gave Jordyn a nod of acknowledgement and then turned her attention back to the Ogre King.

“Did they tell you which award you won?” Sarah asked.

“Not for sure,” Brian answered for Brady. “He has a maybe or a probably on Best of show, though.”

Unsurprised sighs of aggravation sounded out from some of the surrounding cosplayers at hearing the news, as well as a few who voiced their support and appreciation. Like it or not, Brady’s Ogre King cosplay really was one of the most outstanding of all the costumes present. Sarah Star narrowed her eyes, pressed her mouth into a tight line, and then turned and walked away without another word.

* * *

Pre-judging for AnimeCon’s cosplay contest had finally ended, and the waiting audience of impatient photographers and attendees were finally allowed to file into the event room and find their seats. Between the arduous struggle and bickering back and forth as Foxy and Ghost Wine butted heads repeatedly and the incident with the contestant who’d rigged some kind of flash pot in his prop staff, the event was actually running twenty minutes late, according to the schedule printed within the booklets.

“Did I win anything?” Sarah was blunt as she stared down Foxy with her arms crossed.

“You know I can’t reveal that to you,” Foxy chuckled. “But, no. You didn’t win anything.”

The glare she’d been shooting him froze in place and she stiffened, trying to gauge whether or not he was being serious with her. Dressed in the flowing elegance of her Vampire Princess Marcilla dress and with her carefully painted face, she made a beautiful, if slightly somber sight. He’d been aware of the cosplayer Sarah Star for a long time; locally, she was by far the most famous cosplayer around. He couldn’t help but think he saw something more to her now, however, something familiar about her face. She reminds me of Kelly. Wonder if it’s just some cosplay primadonna thing, that makes them put off the same vibe?

“Why?” Sarah’s voice was cold.

“Short answer—you’ve reached your limit. This is as far as you go, in regards to the cosplay contest,” Foxy answered honestly. “As for the long answer…”

“Go on,” She asked, gritting her teeth.

“Of the three prizes, you were only even eligible for Superior Craftsmanship, and Joe said that’s really more for outstanding large props than it is costumes.”

“Only eligible for Craftsmanship? What about Best of Show, or Judge’s Choice? Why wouldn’t I—”

“Apparently, because you’ve won each of those awards in past years,” Foxy shrugged.

“Bullshit,” Sarah spat out, livid. “What fucking rule says I can’t win those over and over again?”

“There isn’t one,” Foxy nodded and gave her an understanding smile. “But, it makes it a lot less likely that they’ll pick you. The way Ghost Wine explained it, because you’ve won those in the past, they set the bar that much higher when they grade you. Your outfit this year looks amazing, in my opinion, certainly—but, they said it was about on the same level as your past cosplays, and that to win again you’d need to really outdo yourself.”

None of that was true, of course. Ghost Wine had been gushing over how beautiful the details on the dress were, and Joe had quietly proposed naming Sarah Star as Judge’s Choice again... but Foxy disagreed with them. He had other plans for this girl.

“That’s such bullshit!”

“I think so, too,” he agreed, nodding again. “Of course, I might be able to help you out a little… if you can do a little something for me.”

“...What do you want.”

“Don’t know if you knew,” Foxy started, “But, I throw this pretty big after-hours AnimeCon get-together every year. Lots of important people show up… and I think of you as pretty important, too. Come make an appearance at my party. Wear something sexy, socialize, hobnob with the other higher-ups of all the little fandom communities. Honestly, you belong there with us anyways. This contest thing? It’s beating a dead horse, you don’t have to keep competing. Everyone already knows you’re the best cosplayer around.”

“I heard about the party you had last year,” Sarah said slowly, carefully choosing her words. “I can go. But, I’m not drinking. Or flirting with people, or—anything like that.”

“No one’ll pressure you into anything you don’t want,” Foxy promised. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“I don’t know,” Sarah gave him a reluctant look. “The stories I heard made it sound like things get out of hand, and… certain kinds of girls always get invited. I’m not like that at all.”

“Well, I’ll still be extending invitation to some easy—uh, that is, some girls who’re easy on the eyes. You know, eye candy to spruce up the party. That’s just something I do to keep certain people happy, they’ve come to expect that kind of thing. You’re nothing like those girls, though—you’re Sarah Star. Everyone knows you, you’re a big name.”

“Uh-huh. And... what’ll you do for me, then, if I go?”

“I’ll talk to the program staff. We’ll have you come out as the very first person on stage, introduce you with all those past titles you’ve earned. Then, the whole thing seems like a… you know, a passing on the torch sorta thing, rather than you being defeated in the contest this year.”

“I was not defeated in the contest this year.”

“Exactly,” Foxy smiled. “This way, it’ll put you on a different level than the other contestants; you’re not competing with them, you’re the one in position to hand them the awards. Hell, I can probably convince Joe to let you go up onstage and actually hand this year’s winners their awards. Present it to them personally.”

“I don’t know if I like that idea,” Sarah frowned.

“Listen, you’re not really getting anywhere even if you’d won the same awards all over again,” Foxy said. “This is past that, above that. The next step for you.”

“...Okay, whatever. Fine.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll go to your party,” Sarah agreed. “Make sure I get to be the one to hand them the awards.”

“I will,” Foxy promised. “My buddy Fletcher is practically running the event, here. Make sure to wear something sexy tonight.”

“I’m not one of those kind of girls,” Sarah warned again.

“Oh, I know you’re not,” Foxy laughed. “Although… now that I think of it, I know just who to rope in, now.”

* * *

“Fuck yeah I wanna go to a party!” Melanie exclaimed, bouncing in place. “I love parties!”

Behind the stage set up in the enormous cosplay contest event room, the adjacent conference room was filled with cosplayers getting ready to walk out was bustling with excitement. Lined up now in order of when they were to appear on stage, the bubbly dark-haired girl cosplaying Blaire had finally been separated from her new friend Jordyn. Brady and his impromptu helper Brian were relegated the whole way back to the very end of the line.

“Awesome,” Foxy said, passing her a slip of paper. “We’re in the Wingfield Grand just a block away, we have a huge suite on the second floor. It’s gonna be a blast. I was just thinking to myself how cool it’d be to introduce you to everyone as Melaneko.”

“Ohmigod! I totally forgot!” Melanie spun, grabbing the shoulders of the girl beside her in line. “I have a cosplay name! You won’t believe what it is!”

“...Is it Melaneko?” Chloe grimaced, squirming out from the girl’s excited grasp. As the thirty-ninth cosplayer assigned to cross the stage, she was right next to Melanie in the new line. “That’s, uh… cute.”

“Isn’t it? Melaneko! There’s like, other people who go by ‘neko,’ I guess, but no one but me has Melaneko! I’m Melaneko, and you’re... Miss Angie?”

“I said it was Miss Anne Dree, actually,” Chloe rebutted, her remaining patience obviously draining out of her with each spoken sentence. “Not Miss Angie.”

“Misandry Cosplay, huh? I love it, I’ll have to look up your page later,” Foxy praised, looking over the Magical Doll Himari cosplayer with open appreciation. She’d been one of the last ones to pass muster to walk the stage, but she was leggy and had a gorgeous face—how would he ever forget her? “Any interest in a party after the con? There’ll be a ton of free liquor.”

“I love liquor!” Melanie jumped in again.

“I’ll take an invitation,” Chloe said, turning away from Melanie with disgust and looked back to Foxy. “But, I probably won’t ever show up. I’m meeting my boyfriend later.”

“That’s a tough sell,” Foxy laughed, but he ripped off another scrap of paper and scribbled his room number on it for her. “But, what the hell. In case you change your mind.”

“I won’t,” Chloe said. She took the slip from him, folded it, and tucked it beneath the band of her leotard. “But, thank you.”

“Hey, no pressure,” Foxy shrugged, seeing Chloe’s hesitation. He leaned in a little closer, and spoke as if he was confiding a secret to her. “Just, thought it’d be cool if you made an appearance… since it’s very, very likely you’re be winning Judge’s Choice, this year. Congratulations, Miss Anne Dree Cosplay.”

“Really?” Chloe couldn’t help but smile at him. “Is it okay for you to tell me that?”

“Sure, you earned it,” Foxy nodded, sending a glance back towards the red coat of Jordyn visible much further down the line. “It’s down to either you or that awful Dmitri chick—and she bought a whole bunch of parts of her costume, rather than actually making them.”

“Dmitri…?” Melanie blinked, leaning out of line to look down towards Jordyn. “Dmitri Dhampir? What?”

“Hard to believe she was even in the running,” Chloe smiled sweetly, rolling her eyes. “I normally do cosplays from HellState—so I could see, at a single glance, that her outfit is nothing special. You can tell she was banking on getting charity points just because of her skin color.”

“She… what?” Melanie asked in bewildered confusion. “You’re not talking about Synn, right? The Dmitri that’s over there?”

“Of course, Synn’s still pretty cool,” Foxy reassured Melanie. “If Misandry here isn’t interested, I might as well go invite Synn her to the party instead.”

“I’ll think about it,” Chloe shrugged, speaking in a distant, non-committal voice. As Foxy watched, she glanced down the line again, distracted. As they’d been standing there, this girl in the Magical Doll Himari getup had been looking down that way quite a bit, actually.

Who’s she on the lookout for?

“Synn’s really cool,” Melanie spoke up quickly. “She helped me fix my, uh, well my everything.”

“I’m sure she’s great,” Chloe said, shooting Melanie a patronizing look. “But, this is a competition—not a charity.”

“Sad but true,” Foxy nodded. “That girl who won Best of Show last year, Sarah Star, she didn’t even merit an honorable mention this year. She’s on the verge of tears right now, they’re sending her out first. Contests can be tough.”

“Aw, that poor girl,” Melanie said, turning to look towards the front of the line. “Which one is she?”

“I don’t remember,” Foxy lied. “She was in something real drab. She’ll be lucky if anyone remembers her, after this year.”

“But that’s so sad!” Melanie pouted.

“Just how things are,” Foxy sighed. “Well, I’ve gotta go handle some things. Good luck out there on stage, you two.”

* * *

“A party?” Jordyn arched an eyebrow at Foxy.

“Yeah, every year after the con a bunch of friends get together at the Grand Wingfield.”

“Okay… but, why me?” She asked. She looked flattered but remained cautious, regarding him with an amused smile as she tried to decide what his game was.

“Honestly, because I feel kinda bad,” Foxy chuckled, giving her an awkward look. “I really think you should’ve won Judge’s Choice... but that other judge just wouldn’t have it.”

“Ah, right,” Jordyn nodded ruefully. “Because of my guns, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s okay. I have to thank you guys for still letting me come out on stage.”

“Hah, I love your laid-back attitude,” Foxy gave her a grin. “The girl who’s winning Judge’s Choice is kinda… well, she seems really petty. I can’t stand her, personally.”

“Oh,” Jordyn said, raising both brows for a moment and smiling back at him. She didn’t seem interested at all in which girl that was.

Damn, she really IS pretty cool. I like her more and more.

“Anyways—yeah, here’s the room number if you’re interested in swinging by sometime tonight. It’s a block away, at the Grand Wingfield Hotel.”

“Thanks. I’ll definitely keep it in mind.”

“Cool. I’ve gotta go talk to the organizer real quick before the first girl goes on stage. Catch you later, hopefully.

* * *

“You want to change the program now?” Fletcher laughed, thinking the notion was even more funny than it was irritating. “When we’re running twenty minutes behind? First of all, Foxy; you’re a temporary stand-in to the judge’s panel for the contest. That’s it. I don’t see where you think you can suddenly—”

“I know, trust me— I know,” Foxy said, holding up his hands. “I’m not asking for a huge change, though. Just hear me out.”

“Nope,” Fletcher brushed him off. The event was about to start, and he didn’t have time to deal with any nonsense right now. “Go take a seat somewhere to watch the show, your role in this is over.”

Something about Foxy’s ‘suggestion’ rankled with Fletcher, and as he made his rounds checking on all of the staffers, the entire situation seemed more and more suspicious to him.

“Hey, what do you want me to do with all this?” One of the volunteer staffers asked, jangling metal pieces and wooden splinters in a dustpan.

“What is it?” Fletcher glanced over.

“The rest of that stuff we swept up before letting everyone in,” the volunteer reported, hand hovering over the pieces as if he was about to sort through them. “Looks like one of the rings from that monk dude’s staff?”

“Well, don’t touch it—it’s evidence, for now,” Fletcher instructed. “Put it in back behind the stage with the other dustpan and the bin full of little bits. We’ll see later if convention center security needs to look it over, or anything like that.”

“Everything cool?” Dave asked, indicating the growing impatience of the audience filling the panel room. As their designated host for the event, he was also doubling as their sound technician—that is, he’d arranged dozens upon dozens of anime music clips into a Vidtube playlist, based on the numbered cosplayers in their order of appearance. In addition to introducing each of the contestants to the stage, he would carefully stop and start that playlist as the show required. “We ready to get started?”

“Yeah,” Fletcher affirmed. “I’ll get the room lights.”

* * *

“Shit. Shit!” Sarah swore, frantically stepping back to check under her feet and then struggling to whirl in place with the long train of her dress. “My pendant brooch is gone.”

“Pendant brooch?” Liz asked, trying to help her scan the ground. Unfortunately, scant moments later, all the banks of overhead lights turned off for the contest, and it was simply too dark to see very far. “Well... fuck. What’s it look like? Is it important?”

“It’s a big, antique-looking metal clasp,” Sarah explained. “Like... a circle made out of metal, with a thing going through it. Has little molded leaves along the outer edge. We cast it out of aluminum, in our little miniature forge.”

“Uhh, well if you didn’t drop it right here, we’re not gonna be able to find it,” Liz pointed out, crouching down to help Sarah lift up several feet of dress. “S’not here. Can you make do?”

“I’ll have to, I guess,” Sarah sighed. “Fuck! It’s supposed to hold part of my dress in a certain way. Hopefully we can at least find it before I go back up on stage again.”

“That sure you’re gonna win this year?” Liz chuckled, shaking her head. “Damn, wish I had your confidence.”

“We’re starting in about sixty seconds,” A volunteer staffer trotted over to advise them. “Be ready to go up when you’re called.”

“I’m missing part of my costume,” Sarah informed him.

“...You’re kidding,” the volunteer winced.

“It’s a pendant brooch, like, a little metal circle with a—”

“Wait, hold on!” The frazzled staff guy seemed to remember something, and he ducked over to the rear of the stage where he grabbed a dustpan and returned, carefully keeping it level so as not to spill its contents. “...Is this it?”

Picking the thick iron ring of metal out of the pan, Sarah felt her hopes fall. This isn’t it. This is just some random junk—

“Ow!” She exclaimed, flicking the piece back into the dustpan and inspecting her finger. “It’s sharp.”

“That’s not it?” The panicking volunteer looked crestfallen.

“No, that isn’t it,” Sarah shook her head distractedly. Yellow motes of sunlight seemed to be wafting down through the air, and Sarah glanced upwards and then looked around in confusion. She blinked, clearing her head. Must’ve been some trick of the light?

“Sarah! Sarah!” Qin Wanwan called out. “One of the girls back there just stepped on this—isn’t this yours?”

“Oh my god,” Sarah exhaled a breath of relief, accepting the pendant brooch from her friend. “Thank you so much! Literally, just in time!”

* * *

“Joe—did Foxy say anything to you about changes to the program?” Fletcher asked, leaning down so that his buddy could hear him over the noise within the room. Sitting at the same staff table, Dave leaned over with interest, one hand covering the head of his microphone.

“Changes? No,” Joe shook his head. “Why, what’s up? What happened?”

“I think... Foxy’s been abusing authority toward his own interests.”

“What? How—why? In what way?” Joe actually seemed surprised. “That’s so stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if he doesn’t get caught,” Fletcher sighed, scowling inwardly at Joe’s naiveté. Sometimes always looking for the best in people had his friend failing to see some pretty big warning signs. At that point, WE would be the stupid ones.

“I guess,” Joe frowned and looked around, trying to see where Foxy had run off to since. “What do you want to do?”

“I know you keep track of what each judge votes,” Fletcher said, giving Joe a serious look. “And, they’re weighted, somehow? How much would taking Foxy’s vote out of the equation change the end results of the contest?”

“Uh… all of his votes?” Joe looked startled for a moment, and flipped pages in the legal pad to his competition notes. “Looks like… quite a bit, actually? Just about the only award he actually agreed with us on was Brady’s Ogre King. The Judge’s Choice and Superior Craftsmanship would change hands and be completely different.”

“I thought so,” Fletcher said heavily. “I want to revoke all of Foxy’s judgements for the contest.”

“Fuuuck. Like, right now?”

“Yeah.”

“This gonna be another holdup?” Dave asked, about to switch the mic back off.

“Not for you,” Fletcher gestured for him to go ahead. “We’ll figure it all out while everyone walks.”

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