Author's note
This chapter takes a while to get to any sexytimes, but is laying the groundwork for more entries in a series of vignettes that can happen during such an event as a convention. If there are other entries, they might add some background, but this first story is doing the expositional heavy lifting.
Inspirations were many, including the Geek Pride 2019 story A Cosplayer's Luck by MisterWildCard, an interest in costumed stories here, DragonCon being right around the corner when I started writing the piece, and finally the most important impetus: StillStunned instigating the Pandemonium challenge for fellow writers.
All characters are 18 or older. Any resemblance to real people (with one glaring exception) is purely coincidental.
Special thanks to my friends Irene and Evan for help with research, and being a second set of ears, respectively.
Pronunciation: Bastafor (BAS-ta-fore) or /'bæstəfɔ:/
Rechikin (WRETCH-ih-kin) or /'rɛtʃɨkɪn/
Thursday
"Bastafor," rumbled the demon in front of the registration desk, causing the desk, chair, and everything nearby to vibrate in sympathy.
Jeri shuddered in pleasure at the sensation, then looked up . . . and up, and gulped. Bastafor's costume was amazing-eight feet tall, dull red skin, chiseled physique, a mane of shaggy black hair, leathery wings folded behind his body, dark horns curving to tips above his head, a prehensile tail, and his only clothing was a loincloth and belt, fastened with what looked like a sheep's skull. She silently handed him his badge. His claws clicked on it as he took it from her and held it up, looking momentarily confused. He sniffed it once, then took two lanyards, fastened them together around his neck just barely, hung the badge on them, turned around ponderously and strode off through the crowds.
"Twenty more minutes," she thought to herself. Jeri had gotten a discount on her registration for DemoniCon by volunteering at the registration booth. The costumes here were so amazing she was having second thoughts about entering the costume contest, but she hadn't spent this much money on building a costume, flying to Chicago, registering and volunteering for the convention, and getting a room to chicken out now.
When the next shift relieved her, Jeri bolted from the booth, dragging a heavy canvas bag with her. While people-watching from the registration booths was good, she missed some of the costumes, and it was half an hour until the panel on costume wings started! Moving through the convention center, there were so many characters she recognized, and the requisite people in civilian clothes or their ren-faire outfits. Not that she was one to judge . . . her own outfit was pretty low key. Dark jeans, a mottled purple shirt, a leather jacket, belt, and a distinctive necklace with four charms on it. Some fans would know who she was, but her hair wasn't really curly enough. It was fine for working registration and comfortable enough compared to some of her other costumes for the weekend.
It was early in the con, but she'd heard most of the celebrities were already working with the early crowds. Much as she wanted to wait for a shorter line, one of the guests she was most looking forward to meeting was only going to be here for two days, so she had to make sure to get there as early as she could.
Jeri was nervous. She'd had a crush on one of this man's characters since she had first come across the work in her early teens, even if the series had come out shortly before she was born. Her aunt had been obsessed with the series, writing fanfic, owning the entire series on VHS tapes she'd recorded herself. Jeri had stumbled onto the tapes one day and was smitten from the get-go. Gargoyles had been an amazing show, and she was still irked that it only ran for three seasons, never getting the spin-off series it could have spawned, or more time for the romance at the heart of it to develop further. Truth be told, it had probably started her fascination with demons in the first place, and now, just over half of her life later, she was about to meet the man behind the voice of that crush. No stress or anything.
She was so focused on trying to not stress, the other fans' voices around her barely penetrated her daze.
"He's been in everything, it seems: movies, animation, TV, ads, video games! He never stops working," said one.
"I was amazed he does his own singing. Why has he not done more?" asked another.
Jeri stared at her hands, willing them to not betray her nerves. Fuck, would she even be able to say anything to him? He was tall, with broad shoulders that filled out his button-down khaki shirt with a standing collar. It was a wonderful contrast to his dark umber skin, graying-well, mostly grayed-hair and beard, with a ready grin and a stack of photos on the bar table next to him. She could see his lips moving, and hear an occasional laugh, but unfortunately the din of the surrounding crowd drowned out his voice.
It was tough to focus and keep her thoughts pure. "He is an actor, he
isn't
the character," she repeated to herself, with eyes closed. All too soon, a polite cough from behind her prompted her to open her eyes and move forward in the line. The attending staff ushered her forward, and she found herself face to face with Keith David himself.
"Hello there," his resonant baritone voice rolled over Jeri, and she tried to hide her trembling.
"Hi," she chirped, still almost vibrating from nerves.
"So you're here for a photo and autograph?" His eyes twinkled.
"Um . . . Yes." She drew a shaky breath. "My name's Jeri, and I have loved your work for as long as I've known about you. Thank you for all that you do, and for sharing your talents with the world. I—
we
—love you for it."
"That's very sweet of you," he said politely as he ushered her in front of the cameras. "May I touch your shoulders?" He asked as they posed in front of a convention branded background.
"Oh yes, that'd be fine," she gushed. "Keep it in your pants," she thought to herself.
His arm draped loosely around her shoulders as she smiled for the camera. There were a quick handful of clicks and he dropped his arm immediately without touching her further. She exhaled again, not realizing she'd stopped in the first place.
"Do you ever think there'd be a continuation of Gargoyles?"
He chuckled again. "They don't come to me for those sorts of decisions. I would leap at the chance, but I've come to terms with the fact that that ship has sailed. I content myself with doing my best with whatever role comes next."
She reveled in his voice. Could you make clothing out of a voice? She'd love a blanket that felt like his voice . . . .
"Yes, you always do your best," she said dreamily.
He gave her an odd look: "Are you feeling okay; you look a bit flushed . . . ."
Her pale skin turned even redder and she shook her head emphatically. "No, I'm good, I'm good. I should let you talk to the next people," she said as she turned away.
"What about that autograph though?"
She stopped in her tracks, mortified, and nodded in silence before turning and walking back to the small table with photographs.
She looked up at him through a tangle of hair as he uncapped a sharpie.
"That's 'Jeri' with an 'i?'" He rumbled, while glancing at her name badge.
She nodded mutely. Fuck, she needed to get out of here before someone smelled her arousal.
"Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Jeri, take care." He offered a hand to her and she shook it quickly, grabbed her photo and moved on to the next line, trying yet again to calm herself before she met another one of her idols.
It wasn't the longest line by any means, but as she was one of the featured guests, plenty of fans had shown up for the chance to meet and greet one of their heroes.
Jeri was fourth in line now, and there had been plenty of chatter about their favorite characters in the various novels. She had enjoyed hearing other fan opinions about Abby and Daniel, the brother and sister duo at the center of the Succubus Tails series.
"I love how they're both bi: it's so rare to see bi guys especially, even in the romance genre," the guy two places ahead was saying.
"Yes. And she never treats it in a tawdry way." There was tittering throughout the line at that. "Well, you know what I mean, not in a creepy or fetishy way," the lady immediately in front of her corrected.
Jeri smiled slyly. "I heard that she put hints in the first few and waited until she had assurances of sequels and plenty of demand from readers to branch into something less straight.
"Oh, that's pretty smart," the guy said. "My favorite had to be Petrus though: handsome, bi, romancing both of the siblings at the same time . . . ."
The lady in front of her turned to Jeri. "What about you: who's your favorite?"
"Oh, um, Tartini."
The woman smiled knowingly and moved her hands encouragingly.
"Uh . . . I have a thing for deep voices, so it makes sense. Doesn't hurt that he was mostly super sweet . . . aside from draining energy and such."
"It's part of their nature," the woman said wistfully. "I sort of imagine it's like getting choked, though I have to imagine that too."
Jeri blushed deeply. "Yeah . . . I think I heard that too somewhere."
The man turned and walked up to the author, leaving Jeri and the woman chatting away. Jeri hefted her bag to the other shoulder to give herself some relief.
Fifteen minutes later, it was Jeri's turn.
The author at the end of the line had a little more gray in her hair than the picture on the back of all of the paperbacks that were currently crammed into the bag Jeri had been carrying around all day. Kitty was plump, with curves everywhere, and a black dress that enhanced all of them to their best effect. The dress had a sequined choker joined to the rest of the dress with five ribbons in the shape of a pentagram which framed her decolletage. The effect might not have been tasteful for an employee at a stuffy office, but for a woman who'd single-handedly made a small fortune by writing demonic romance novels, it was positively understated. Her black, curly hair was cut slightly below her shoulders and full of volume, streaked here and there with threads of purple tinsel amidst the gray. It contrasted wonderfully with her pale sienna skin tone. The effect was all brought together in her purple-black lipstick.
