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The costumes in Glory had been designed for aesthetic appeal and recognizability over everything else.
Nobody had ever thought about if those costumes would be comfortable to wear.
This oversight was why Mo Fan was currently sweltering to death within a ninja costume that would not have been inconspicuous anywhere except possibly a convention of Naruto cosplayers.
The fact that his teammates were similarly suffering wasn’t much of a comfort.
Su Mucheng had gotten off the lightest, thanks to her costume being relatively simple. The multiple layers and the shorts she’d worn under her skirt protected her from any fanboy’s leering eyes. Tang Rou, on the other hand, had absolutely refused to go out in what she and the rest of the team agreed was far too low-cut a top so Chen Gou had quickly stitched in a nude-colored panel over the front.
Bao Rongxing had fared the best of the male players. His open vest should have looked disastrous on a pro player but with Bao Rongxing’s muscles still being in excellent condition from his time as a bouncer, Bao Rongxing just looked like the brawler he was in personality and game both.
The worst, of course, was Lord Grim.
Absolutely none of the developers had considered the possibility of someone like Lord Grim appearing and his costume had made the costumers and PR department practically cry. In the end, they’d given up and just sent Ye Xiu all the pieces individually, trusting to Chen Gou to put them on him.
Mo Fan still wasn’t sure how exactly this costume shoot was benefiting charity, or how Chen Gou had made even Wei Chen get dressed up. He knew that in his case, she’d left the clothes on his bed with a note saying ‘be dressed and down by 2PM’.
He’d ignored the clothes and the note both until Su Mucheng breezed in and cheerfully started chattering at him about the homeless children and the calendar that was going to be made and how she was so glad that all the Teams got to choose which charity to support because she and Ye Xiu had both been homeless when they were younger--
The principle of the costume shoot was easy to understand. With 10 players, counting the 2 retired players who had been somehow forced to take part, they had enough solo shots for 10 months. The other two months, January and December, would be team shots of all of them in action against painted grounds.
What was a little harder to understand was why members from the other teams were still lurking around. The loud one, Huang Shaotian, kept chattering at Su Mucheng only to have the team mock-threaten him with their foam weapons.
The quiet one with the glasses was watching everything. The Warlock, Mo Fan knew.
There was one person he didn’t recognize however. He was in a costume, but it didn’t look as elaborate as the rest of the Blue Rain costumes and Mo Fan had never seen it in game. More oddly, the man’s eyes were locked on the comical, top-heavy figure of Lord Grim and the umbrella that he kept moving from shoulder to shoulder.
Mo Fan made a soft sound to himself, then tried to stealthily approach the stranger to see why he was there. Lord Grim was their ex-captain, true, but he was still the one who had recruited Mo Fan. His loyalty might not be as noisy as Steamed Bun Invasion’s, but it was there all the same.
He’d find out why this man was watching Ye Xiu and he’d do it discreetly, too, while everyone was distracted by the actual Team Blue Rain.
Unfortunately, Mo Fan had forgotten that his costume was as stealthy as a cherry tree growing Christmas baubles instead of cherry blossoms.
Before he was even halfway there, the man had turned to watch him instead along with a third of his own team who were curious as to why the reclusive player was approaching someone.
Feeling that many eyes on him, Mo Fan nearly changed his mind. There was a photograph on the wall behind the stranger that he could pretend to be interested in examining. Mo Fan could walk right past him.
But now the man was staring at him as well.
The weight of everyone’s eyes on him was so uncomfortable that Mo Fan hunched his shoulders upwards slightly, pulling the scarf that half-hid his face further over his nose. The Silver Accessory gave him a flat percentage increase to speed in game but in real life, all that the half-scarf, half-mask did was make it more difficult for him to breathe.
By the time he’d made it to the man, Mo Fan was sweating heavily under his costume. He stopped in front of him, eyes briefly taking in the man’s face (sharp eyes, a friendly smile, little wrinkled lines around the corners of his eyes as if he smiled a lot) before he looked away.
“Why are you staring? Did I scrap pick something from you?” He asked.
It was the logical conclusion to come to. More than one person had approached him, their boss or even their captain to complain that Deception had taken their equipment in the past. Some had even demanded recompense!
“No,” the man said, fidgeting slightly in place. “That’s not it, I’m Xu Boyuan.”
He bowed slightly and automatically, Mo Fan bowed back. His team had managed to instill that much manners in him at least.
“Perhaps your team captain -- ex-captain - has mentioned me?” Xu Boyuan said in an oddly hopeful voice.
Mo Fan shook his head.
Interpreting facial expressions was difficult for him, almost as difficult as projecting expressions onto his own blank face. Nonetheless, Mo Fan thought that perhaps this Xu Boyuan looked … disappointed? The corners of his mouth were turned down, his eyebrows were drawn together and his shoulders had slumped.
He was either disappointed, sad or tired. Mo Fan wasn’t sure which, nor was he sure what Xu Boyuan had muttered under his breath, though he thought it included the words ‘babysitter’ and ‘guild’ and tenth server’.
Before Mo Fan could ask Xu Boyuan to clarify, Ye Xiu was suddenly there.
“Blue River, good thing you’re here. My costume has ripped and nobody has a needle and thread. I know you’ll have one. You’re always so well-prepared,” Ye Xiu said, draping an arm around Xu Boyuan’s shoulders as if they were the oldest of friends.
“I do have a mending kit,” Xu Boyuan said, giving a shrug that completely failed to dislodge Ye Xiu’s arm. Mo Fan watched as Ye Xiu squeezed a little tighter, ignoring Xu Boyuan’s attempt to wriggle out of the sudden embrace. “But it’s for mending Blue Rain costumes, not Team Happy costumes.”
“But this is for the children, Blue River,” Ye Xiu said, his tone taking on a pleading note that worked surprisingly often on Chen Guo. Mo Fan didn’t understand why; it never affected him. “Think of the children. You don’t want to disappoint them, do you?”
“...” A sigh, then Xu Boyuan’s shoulders slumped as well. “Where’s the rip?”
His resigned voice only made Ye Xiu’s grin widen.
Mo Fan knew that grin. It meant Ye Xiu was about to do something that’d get them all into trouble.
“Nowhere I can show you in public. Come on, there’s a small changing room over there--” He hustled Xu Boyuan off towards a door that Mo Fan hadn’t even noticed yet. As Ye Xiu opened the door, Mo Fan caught a glimpse of a little room with large mirrors. It must be where the models usually got made up for the photographers.
At the angle he was at, Mo Fan was the only one who saw Ye Xiu’s hands tangle in the front of Xu Boyuan’s top and pull him closer.
The door closed before they kissed but Mo Fan could extrapolate what was going to happen as easily as he could find a dead angle for attack.
“Hey, what’s the boss doing?” Steamed Bun Invasion asked, bouncing up to Mo Fan with his usual exuberance. Huang Shaotian and he often got into yelling contests whenever the two teams met but for some reason, Huang Shaotian avoided Mo Fan. Nobody was entirely sure why but most of Team Happy had accepted Tang Rou’s theory that it was something to do with Team Blue Rain’s tendency to yell ‘TIMBER’ whenever their teammate went anywhere near Mo Fan.
Mo Fan shrugged rather than answer.
Unsatisfied, Steamed Bun Invasion shook his head pityingly and then bounced forwards towards the door. Without thinking, Mo Fan caught him by the back of his vest. He didn’t have anywhere near Steamed Bun Invasion’s physical strength, but the shock of meeting any resistance at all was enough to stop Steamed Bun Invasion.
“What?” He asked, twisting back to look over his shoulder at Mo Fan.
Mo Fan. who usually struggled for words, now had to struggle to find a good excuse
“Advice,” he said finally, gesturing at himself. “On posing.”
The stream of rapid words that followed from Steamed Bun Invasion should be classified as some sort of torture in Mo Fan’s opinion.
Nobody knew the sacrifices he made for his team.