On-Off Room (Commission Story)

This is a Liara from Mass Effect Cosplay Commission with a Scifi Twist (REWARD STORY FOR STORTY MODE TIER SUB)

On-Off Room

From the front, the building looks normal. A basic concrete monolith from the 1980s. The only way me and Martina know we’re in the right place is the small plaque on the wall at the entrance that says ‘On-Off Faclity.

“Erm…” I look at Martina, who is one of my best friends. “Are you sure this is worth it?”

“For the one hundredth time, Radim.” Martina rolls her eyes at me. “Yes. I promise. Sara is doing things here you won’t believe!”

“But only female characters,” I jibe, having been told by Martina the limitations of Sara’s cosplay promises.

“Stop whining, Radim.” Martina presses the door buzzer. “I know you want to go as Liara anyway, so what does it matter if she can only do females?”

Martina looks up into the security camera watching us at the entrance, and the door clicks open. “What is it you said to me the other night when I asked why Liara? Because she’s awesome and a half?”

“She is awesome,” I state, passing her as I enter the rather sterile-looking reception. “So, is this ‘Sara’ girl going to be able to make me look like her, or is this just a waste of my time?”

From the corner of a room, a voice makes the two of just jump.

“He doubts me.”

A woman, wearing a white lab coat, struts into the reception room and stands with us. Passing me, she gives me a stern look before embracing Martina as if they were old friends.

“How are you?”

“Fine,” Martina holds the woman’s shoulders as they move away from each other’s embrace. “Sara.” Martina points at me. “This is Radim. He’s my friend and the one you’re going to be working with today.”

Sara greets me with a firm handshake before leaning one leg to look me up and down.

“You’re tall, Radim,” she states. “That’s fine, but you might find my process a little disorienting at first.”

“Disorienting?” I look down at my body. “There’s nothing I can do about my height.” I start to chuckle to myself. “Unless your ‘process’ means you’re going to cut my legs in half so I’m shorter.”

Sara touches her lips with one finger as she stares intently at my body. “Indeed.” She then looks at Martina and points. “Well, come on. Let’s get this started.”

We follow her into a small office on the third floor. She sits us both down in a waiting room of sorts and then stands at the desk in the room. It’s all a little strange for someone who works in cosplay costumes. I’d have expected to see sowing equipment and outfits everywhere, but this is more like a laboratory.

“Sara, where are all your costumes?”

Martina nudges me, trying to tell me off for being rude.

“What?” I nudge her back. “I’m just asking. This doesn’t look like the normal sort of cosplay designers I go to.”

“That’s because I’m one of a kind.” Sara interrupts.

Leaning on her desk with one arm, she looks over the rim of her glasses in my direction. “I’m doing this as a favour to Martina,” she scolds. “If you’re not interested, I’ve got thousands of clients who will pay out of their noses for this.”

“That good, huh?” I snark in reply to her smug attitude.

Martina nudges me again. “Radim. She really is that good. Just shut up and listen, okay.”

Sara taps a finger on her desk to get our attention. When we look at her, she stops and folds her arms.

“Right.” She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “What you see here today is strictly confidential. There are businesses desperate to understand what I do here. So, anything you see, I ask for a discrepancy. Is that acceptable?”

“I nod.”

“Good,” Sara leans behind the desk she was standing at and pulls out several sheets of paper. She places them on the table in front of me. “I need you to read this NDA and waiver document.”

Skim reading, I pay next to no attention to what the documents are saying. I one point, I see the words ‘accept no responsibility in the rare case of a complication,’ but honestly, how hard and dangerous can having a cosplay outfit be?

Confident in my own safety, I sign the documents and pass them back to her.

Sara smiles and quickly files them away. She then reaches for a clipboard and starts flicking through the pages.

“So, Liara, from Mass Effect.” She states, glancing at me. “Is that correct?”

“Yes,” I blush slightly.

“And the cosplay competition is in how many days?”

“It’s the weekend.”

Sara looks at her watch. “So, four days from now.” She writes on her clipboard. “That’s a perfect amount of time for an acceptable amount of alignment to occur.”

I lift my finger to ask a question, but she ignores me and continues to talk. “I’ve managed to find all the specifications I needed to create this ‘cosplay.’ That’s not an issue.”

Sara rubs her face with her pen and thinks allowed. “Having a body on hold for a few days should be fine….” Sara looks up at me. “Radim, you're fit and healthy, yes? No underlying heart issues?”

“I…think so.”

“Wait.” Sara looks at Martina. “Who’s going to be looking after Radim once he’s been through the process?”

“Look after me?”

My question is ignored as Martina gives Sara a wide smile. “Me and his Mom are going to help him adjust. I’m not worried. I know how much he likes the character, Sara. So….”

“Ah, okay.” Sara smiles back before glancing at me. “The first day is the hardest. Especially when it’s a drastic change.”

“I know,” Martina replies politely. “We’ve got it covered.

I stare at them like they’ve lost their minds. “The first day is the hardest? What is that supposed to mean?”

 Sara sighs.

I’m left utterly confused.

“Radim.” Sara leans out a hip. “I can’t give you too much detail, but just this will be the most detailed cosplay you’ll ever do. My process is a guarantee that you will win whatever competition you are in.”

I nod. “Well, that I understand.”

“Good.” Sara points behind her at three doors. “The middle door leads to a room we call the On-Off chamber.” She then points at either doors to the side of the On-Off chamber. “The one to the left is the MFER and the one on the right is the FFER.”

I furrow my brow. “Eh?”

“It’s essentially like storage rooms,” Sara explains. “But you can’t go inside. Specialist equipment works around the clock for a very certain reason. Which, again, I can’t tell you.”

I lean back in my chair, bemused at the scifi mumbo jumbo she’s throwing about. “What’s this got to do with cosplaying?”

Sara leans on her opposite hip and gives me a sour look. “Impatient, aren’t you?” She then places the clipboard down onto the desk and stands up straight. “Shall we just get started? Radim, how are you with pain?”

“Erm….” I look at them both nervously

Sara then brushes it off with a laugh. “Ah, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Asking me to follow her into the On-Off room, she sits me in a chair in the middle of the room. I look around, and the entire room looks like an operating theatre, with shiny, clean equipment, sterile walls, and bright lights.

Sara begins by washing her hands and asking Martina to wait outside. After some time, Sara walks straight over to me, straps me down my body with a harness, and injects my neck.

“W-What what tha—”

“Shhh.” Sara puts a finger to her lips as my eyes begin to droop. “Don’t fight this, Radim. When you wake up, you’ll be one step closer to cosplay heaven.”

“S-S…Sara….?”

My head feels heavy, and my heart rate drops. I can’t keep my eyes open, and everything melts into black.

Then, a sensation. Am I failing? No, maybe….floating?

The darkness isn’t empty like in a dream. It’s thick, like warm oil clinging to my skin. All around me, I hear a slow, mechanical heartbeat. Louder and louder it gets into it thumps deep in my chest.

Then, as if I am torn, the sensation changes my perspective, stretches upward. Perhaps it’s a nightmare rather than a dream.

“It’s all under control,” Sara’s voice murmurs through the void, but she echoes like she’s talking in a gorge. “This is normal for the process!”

Suddenly, I see everything around me, like I’m a fly on the wall. I see my own head in front of me, still strapped to the chair, mouth slightly open, eyes closed.

That’s… me.

I try to talk, but my voice is gone. My awareness is being pulled backward, downward, into something else. There’s a faint hiss, and then the sensation of weight wraps around me.

For a moment, I glimpse a reflection in a pane of glass. It is not my own. Smooth blue skin. Angular alien features. Familiar ridges along the scalp. Liara’s face stares back at me, blinking, breathing.

The heartbeat in my ears speeds up.

Then the world blurs.

I wake with a violent gasp, lungs burning like I’ve just surfaced from deep water. My hands claw at the air, the straps holding me in place biting into my wrists.

Bright lights slam into my eyes, and I’m blinded and confused.

“Radim…” Sara’s voice echoes at me though the fog in my brain. “Radim, how are you feeling?”

I try to talk, but I can’t. It’s like my brain knows what to do, but the wires aren’t connected.

“Easy, Radim,” Sara says, her voice soft, but close. “The process is now complete. The disorientation will pass.”

My vision clears, and I see Martina and Sara standing before me. However, everything feels different. It’s as if someone has changed all of my settings.

The first time I notice is my hands. They are small, dainty, and blue.

“I feel dizzy.” I reach up to my face to hold it

“That’s normal,” Sara remarks, checking on the equipment around her. She then turns to Martina, “Can you look after him while I transfer his body into the MFER?”

“M-My body?”

I turn my head as much as I possible can. However, my muscles feel stiff and unresponsive. I manage to turn just enough to see an image like in my dream. My body, sitting in that same chair, unconscious and lifeless.

I gasp

“I-Is that m-me?”

Thick cables spill from the base of my neck, snaking away into the shadows. I stare in stunned disbelief. It’s as if my head has been cleanly severed and tethered back to the world only by this grotesque bundle of wires.

“Let me erm…” Sara begins to press buttons, and my body begins to disappear into the floor.

As it vanishes from sight, Sara steps over to me with a wry smile on her face. “Sorry about that. Usually, I’m not so tardy with placing the original body into the correct room.” She rubs her arm. “I guess because I’m doing this for free, I’m not on the ball today.”

“What have you done to me?”

Sara furrows her brow before looking around the room. “Exactly what you asked me to do,” she replies, before fetching a small handheld mirror. “See.”

My eyes widen as a scared-looking Liara looks back at me in the reflection

“I’m sort of like a reverse necromancer,” Sara boasts with a hint of irony. “I created this body you’re in. As far as the world is concerned, the real Liara is right in front of me. How do you feel, Radim, or should I say, Liara?”

I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing.

Every nerve in my body sparks with unfamiliar sensations. My feet and hands feel incredibly delicate, my arms and legs sleek and elegant. My waist narrows to a point, and my hips curve out boldly, while my chest carries a new weight that shifts with every breath.

Sara releases the straps holding me. The harness loosens around me. “Careful,” she says, one hand on my shoulder as I slide off what was holding me.

The moment my feet hit the floor, I nearly stumble. My balance feels off, as if my center of gravity has shifted lower and wider. I take a cautious step, then another, my bare toes curling against the cool tile.

Even the air on my skin feels sharper, more present, as though every inch of me has been tuned to pick up sensations my old body never could.

I glance around as I stand up straight, barely taller the Sara who hovers beside me. Then I look down at myself, or the vessel I now inhabit.

My body is entirely blue and curves with the grace of a woman. Neat and tidy between the legs and full and bouncy around my hips and chest. I touch my head, feeling the ridges of Liara’s species upon my skull.

I feel like I’m still waking from the dream.

Sara and Martina exchange a glance.

“You okay?” Martina asks, cautiously.

“You’ve gone quiet,” Sara adds, her tone suddenly less smug and more clinical.

I look at them, open my mouth… and nothing comes out at first. When I finally speak, it comes out like I’ve gone fifteen years into my past. My voice is high and sweet.

“This… is…” I pause, then grin. “Absolutely insane.”

Martina exhales, laughing nervously. Sara tilts her head with a smug smile.

I turn my hands over in front of my face, flexing each finger slowly, just to see the tendons shift under alien skin. “I’m a real-life Asari!”

Sara’s smirk returns. “Told you I’m good.”

Sara then crosses her arms, clearly pleased. “The process is… thorough. Every neural signal now routes through this body as if you’d been born in it. There’s no ‘costume’, Radim. You are her.”

I can’t stop touching my own arms, my waist, the slope of my neck. It’s intoxicating. “I thought you were exaggerating, but… I’m Liara. I am Liara.”

Martina grins. “Radim. You’re her! You’re really her!”

The giddy, surreal thrill is still bubbling in my chest when I glance down again and freeze with embarrassment.

“G-Guys….. I’m naked.”

My hands shoot to cover myself instinctively, though there’s not much point. The body might be alien, but naked is naked. My blue skin gleams under the bright lights, highlighting my every curve.

Martina bites her lip, trying not to laugh. “Y-Yes, you are!”

“I know I am!” I hiss.

Sara blinks at me, then waves a dismissive hand toward a cupboard in the corner. “Fine, fine. Hold your horses.” She rummages inside for a moment, producing a folded bundle. “These should do for now. A pair of spare jeans, camisole, and, ah, the necessary underthings.”

I take them quickly, keeping one arm across my chest as I shuffle behind a partition.

The underwear is the first thing I pull out. It’s a soft, lacy set clearly made for someone of my current size and shape. I hold them at arm’s length, grimacing.

Martina smirks from the other side of the partition. “Need some help?”

“No, it’s just… different,” I mutter, slipping them on.

Everything feels snug in a way I’m not prepared for, especially around the hips and across the chest. The camisole slides over my chest and hugs every contour, and the jeans follow, though I have to wriggle into them because my new hips don’t play fair.

When I step out, Martina gives me a once-over and grins. “Cute...for a blue alien”

Sara agrees with Martina as they share a smile between them. Then, as if they don’t want to tease me any longer, Sara ushers us back into the waiting room.

 Already back at her desk with a pen, scratching over paperwork. Sara glances up only to stare.

“I want those close back, y’know.”

I hover awkwardly, tugging the hem of the camisole down, before clearing my throat. “So… can I see my old body again?”

Sara doesn’t even look up this time. “No.”

That catches me off guard. “What do you mean, no? It’s mine.”

“It’s in the MFER room,” she says flatly, signing something with a flourish. “And stepping into that room right now would be catastrophic.”

Martina tilts her head. “Really?”

“Yes,” Sara replies bluntly, before looking like she’s forgotten something.

She stands up and peers at the On-Off room door. “Ah, rats. I forgot to give you the heart monitor.” She walks over to the door, but glares back at us both. “Don’t look in the MFER room.”

The moment Sara disappears into the On-Off room, my curiosity starts eating me alive. She might as well have said, 'Definitely look in the MFER room.'

I glance at Martina. She’s fiddling with her phone, thumbs tapping away. Perfect.

Quietly, I drift toward the far-left door, the one Sara had pointed out earlier. I press my ear against the cold metal. Nothing but a low, constant hum from whatever machinery is inside.

My fingers close around the handle before my brain can stop them. I ease the door open just enough to peek through the gap.

My stomach flips.

There I am.

My old body is still in that same chair, exactly as before, still strapped in, its head hanging forward. Thick black cables still feed into the back of my neck, disappearing into the floor.

“Radim!” Martina’s voice cuts through the air even though she whispers.

I jerk back from the door, slamming it shut so hard the frame rattles.

“What the hell are you doing?” she hisses, storming over. “Sara told you not to look in there!”

I shrug, trying to play it off. “Relax. I didn’t go in. I just… peeked.”

Her eyes widen in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable.”

Before I can reply, the On-Off room door swings open and Sara reappears, holding a small, wrist-mounted device. Her eyes flick between us, suspicious, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Here.” She tosses the monitor to me. “Keep that on you at all times for the next seventy-two hours. It’ll let me know if your vitals do anything weird.”

Sara then ushers us from the building. Nervous, I step outside and into Martina’s car, wearing my permanent cosplay costume. On the ride home, I barely say a word. I’m just so enamoured with what Sara has given me.

Eventually, we step into the familiar warmth of my home. My Mom, Beth, looks up from her chair, expecting me, but her smile falters as she takes in the sight before her.

“Radim?” she gasps with her hand over her mouth

“Hi Mom,” I reply with my sweet, but bashful voice.

Martina senses the tension and laughs softly, a light, reassuring sound. Beth’s gasp softens into a chuckle, and soon the two women share a laugh together.

“Well,” Mom says, still smiling, “I expected some changes… but this?” She shakes her head with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. “I think we have some lessons to give you on being a woman, Radim.”

My face flushes with a mix of embarrassment and curiosity. Martina squeezes his hand, giving him a reassuring nod.

“Yes,” she adds, “and we’ll make sure you enjoy every step of the learning process.”

The next few days pass in a blur of adjustment, awkwardness, and surprisingly fun discoveries. I fumble with clothes, learning how skirts flow differently, how heels shift my balance, how a simple tuck can change the whole look.

Martina hovers nearby, giving pointers on posture, makeup, and gestures, her teasing never cruel, but helpful.

Everywhere I go after becoming Liara, I feel the extra weight of stares. Strangers glance a little longer, colleagues look confused, friends whisper and point. It’s exhausting at first, but slowly it turns thrilling.

I learn to walk with confidence, to let my smile carry me through the curiosity of everyone else, and even laugh at the moments when I trip, forgetting how my body is different.

The cosplay competition quickly comes around, and I’m more excited than I’ve ever been.

I stand on stage, Liara in full form, every detail perfect, from my hair, skin, proportions, even the subtle nuances I’ve picked up in posture and speech. The crowd erupts, cheering as I strike poses and deliver a line in Liara’s voice.

Martina claps loudly in the front row, and I can see her grin beaming back at me.

When the results come in, it’s no surprise. I win with ease.

The crowd is ecstatic, taking photos, cheering, shouting my name. My face flushes with delight, heart racing as I soak it all in. It’s overwhelming, but incredible. Martina sweeps me into a hug backstage, laughing and teasing.

“We did it!” she exclaims. “I told you she was worth it.”

I laugh too, exhilarated. “I can’t believe how much fun that was. Everyone was so excited! I actually pulled it off!”

Then my phone buzzes, and I see Sara’s name flash on the screen. I answer with excitement, desperate to thank her for her help.

“Sara, I wo—”

She cuts me off, angry and shouting. “Radim, did you go into the MFER room?”

I hesitate a moment, then decide honesty is best. “I had a little peek, yeah. But I didn’t go in!

There’s a pause on the line. Then Sara exhales sharply. “I need to be blunt, Radim. Your old body… It’s dead.”

“W-What….?”