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Hypnos had quickly gotten sick of his costume hunting, so instead he'd opted to come as himself, black wings, horn of opium, black robe, everything. Maybe it wasn't super original, but he didn't really care. And it did feel really good to stretch his wings again, flexing the muscles in his back where they attached. He did try and take care not to hit people with them, though.
The immortal energy in the room felt like a bright, full presence in his brain, almost too much. But he managed to tamp down most of it, until it more or less resembled static in his head. He looked around curiously, trying to take all of it in. Say what you want, Drugs knew how to throw parties.