ACT I - Mia’s Fortune Is Bare

The scent of incense clung to the air as Mia slipped through the heavy velvet curtain. Outside, the festival roared with music and laughter, but in here everything was hushed, candlelight flickering against walls lined with silks and shadows.

At the centre sat the Model, cross-legged behind a low desk draped in black velvet. She was dressed like a witch from some playful nightmare: a short, tattered skirt, her bare legs stretched out languidly, toes flexing in the candle glow. The trap was obvious and sweet, like sugar on the rim of poison.

A polished deck of tarot cards lay in front of her, and beside it rested the woven basket—empty, eager, patient.

The Model looked up, and a smile curved across her lips the moment her eyes met Mia’s.

“Ah… you must be Mia,” she purred, as if the name had already been written in the cards. Her voice was silk and smoke, curling through the tent’s quiet.

Mia blinked, caught between curiosity and the prickling awareness of being expected. “How did you—?”

The Model flipped a single card, its painted surface flashing in the candlelight, and set it between them. She leaned forward, whispering, her smile never fading.

“Because every thread of fate leads here, darling. And here, every fortune has its price.”

Her hand drifted toward the basket, her fingers brushing the rim in a lazy promise. “For you? The cost is simple… a single thread each time the cards demand it.”

Her bare foot nudged the edge of the basket toward Mia, slow and deliberate, while her eyes gleamed with mischief.

“Let’s see how much of yourself your fortune is worth, shall we?”

Clothing Status

Mia: fully dressed in her cosplay outfit - Crimson strapless bodice, rose-pink detached sleeves, short asymmetrical skirt, sheer vine-pattern tights, knee-high red leather boots, golden sash, strapless bra, lace-trimmed pink thong, wrist cuffs, earrings.

Basket: Empty, waiting.