This was one of my first cosplays ever. The character's name is Gian Infernum. I made him as a fan-fic character for the Darkstalkers games. He was partially inspired by listening to the band Cradle of filth. I usually wear this costume for the con raves.
Here is his backstory that I wrote a few years ago. I also wrote this as if I were in character so it would be more detailed
Somewhere within the realm of the living and the land of the dead, there is a lost realm where wondering souls from times past linger within. A realm lost between the holy gates of heaven and God's blessed angels and the firey gates of hell where Satan and his legions of the damned squander. To many in the land of the living, this realm is known as Limbo. A realm where souls have not been deemed as damned and not as deemed saved. It is a realm where a multitude of souls spend an eternity in sadness, thanking God for showing them mercy but in sorrow for being seperated from God's holyness.
Within this melancholy realm, there resides a place of sanctuary. A lost city hidden deep within the mists of Limbo where the lost souls can live together among themselves. This city was once a great city but was cast out of the living realm in ancient times before documented history. This is the lost city of Midian. Within this city, people roam as if from centuries passed. Souls live amongst eachother within their grievances. For within this city, we exist as if we've never died.
A white sun rises, clearing the nighttime mists and giving a bright purple glow to the lost city of Midian. The color purple is of course a color that represents sorrow and mourning. Something of a cruel reminder of why the souls who arrive here are what they are burdened with for eternity. Dispite that, the city still retains it's gothic beauty as light shines upon it, making the morning dew glisten, as if giving new life to all the cities' structures, both great and small. This phenomina is shortly lived, however.
As morning comes, I, Gian Infernum, Lord and High priest of the lost city of Midian, sit upon my pearch atop the city central church tower, spreading my leathery wings in the blessed sunlight and watch as numerous souls gather to give their praise to whomever they believe in as their deity and await for the weekly sermon to commence. For within this city, we live as we wish. We live as if we have never died. We live with no fear of sin, judgement or punishment. In the lost city of Midian, we have no sense of Christ!
$50 gift card to FYE