Deep in the innards of Cyprus Comic Con, standing before an empty stall for Snickers chocolate, a teenage girl, surrounded by her equally teenage friends, is holding up handwritten cardboard signs.
The signs are long and thin, like street signs. I watch as she chats for a while with a passer-by peering at the signs â then approach to find out more.
She instantly panics. âIs it not allowed?â she asks, crestfallen, obviously spooked by my advanced years and impressive-looking media badge. I assure her Iâm just writing an article â but is what not allowed? What exactly are they doing here?
There are three signs, each with a scrawled question. âWho is the strongest character?â reads one sign. âWho is the best villain?â asks the second. âTimebomb or CaitVi?â enquires the third.
âWe just wanted to get the opinion of other anime fans,â says the girl, with her friends looking on in amusement. Their idea is to do a poll, with random fans scrawling their replies on the signs below the questions. At the moment, only the âbest villainâ sign has elicited suggestions, two of them so far: Lord Brevon and Aizen. âWeâve only just started,â explains the girl.
What will they do with the results? Will they put them online?
âWeâre thinking about it. Maybe, maybe not. Itâs mostly just for fun.â
This, in a nutshell, is the spirit of Comic Con â not just the DIY approach, but the sense of community. If these girls took the signs to school, for instance, fellow anime fanatics would presumably stop and answer the survey â but unsympathetic classmates might deride them as geeks or nerds. What, after all, could be nerdier and more Reddit-like than making a ranked list of fictional characters, for no reason other than the fun of it?

Here, on the other hand, at this huge three-day event on the grounds of the old State Fair in Nicosia, they feel confident that everyone around them will be as excited about the project as they are â and even if theyâre not (maybe because theyâre into Marvel rather than anime), they certainly wonât tear it down. No wonder sheâs so crestfallen to see an obvious outsider like me enter the chat.
Itâs also, of course, a way of meeting like-minded people. Nerds are supposed to be unsociable, but the vibe at this yearâs CCC (which took place on October 3-5) was surprisingly convivial. Walking to the entrance on Saturday â a long walk; the parking situation is out of control â I note a young man dressed in black, holding up a giant black obelisk the size of a person, and ask who heâs cosplaying.
âGuts from Berserk,â he replies in a Slavic accent. âYou know Berserk?â
âI donât. But Iâll take a look at it now.â
âI highly recommend it!â
Thatâs the idea, shilling for your favourite shows and making friends in general. Marcus Anastasiou and Luca (15 and 19, respectively) are leaving as I arrive. They got some food and met âa bunch of new people,â says Luca, a low-key character in a black T-shirt. Marcus, on the other hand, sports assorted rings and a Mohawk straight out of 1980s Soho. Heâs cosplaying, right?

âYeah, I am,â he replies, then shrugs. âI mean, both, sort of.â His usual style isnât really so different to this current look â but âI changed a little bit of my outfit, so it would look like the characterâ.
Whoâs the character?
âStevo, from SLC Punk.â Â Â
Iâm taken aback (and taken back), initially assuming that SLC Punk mustâve been turned into a show, or an anime â but no, these teenagers are indeed inspired by an obscure film from 1998 (starring Matthew Lillard, the gangly one from Scream) that wasnât especially big even in 1998. Itâs a reminder, firstly, that pop culture has become a sprawling, hydra-headed beast, all of it available to an online generation who may well venture down less-travelled paths â and, secondly, that, unlike carnivals with their array of familiar Spider-Men and Batmen, Comic Con is a case of self-expression where your cosplay can be meaningful only to yourself.
Thus, for instance, the woman (also with a Slavic accent) holding an umbrella of red streamers, who seems downright embarrassed by the inevitable âWho are you?â.

âIâm Hua Cheng,â she says, and shakes her head: âItâs â itâs Chinese novelâŠâ
Itâs all very idyllic and individualistic; but hereâs the catch, in the age of late-stage capitalism. Everyoneâs more âthemselvesâ than ever â but weâre also in a world thatâs more corporate than ever.
Take, for instance, the girl with the handwritten signs outside the Snickers stall. I was only there briefly, so apologies if Iâm misjudging Snickers â but I wouldnât be surprised if that stall stayed empty for the whole three days. Itâs entirely plausible that Snickers, or any large company, would take a stall at Comic Con purely as a marketing ploy, the cost (about âŹ500, as I was told by participants) being a mere blip in their advertising budget â cheaper than renting a billboard and way more effective, allowing their logo to be glimpsed by over 30,000 people.
That was the expected number of visitors â obviously huge for Cyprus, many times the number who came to the first CCC back in 2014, and catnip to companies looking to showcase their brand.
Stephanis, for instance, the large electronics department store, had a stall this year. So did Soloneion bookshop. Both, you might say, are pop-culture-adjacent (Stephanis sell hardware; Soloneion have a comic-book section), but still very mainstream. The whole event was âpoweredâ by digital-banking platform ECOMMBX, who greeted visitors with âWelcome to the Ecommverseâ.
That said, it all balanced out. The food court, for instance (wittily named NomNomiCon, from the noise you make when eating delicious food), had the likes of KFC and Taco Bell â but also, for instance, Takoyaki âoctopus ballsâ, Japanese street food womanned by Japanese chefs.
Comic Con is based on inclusion, taking the edge off its corporate feel by welcoming a dizzying diversity of faces and voices. This, you might say, is the revenge of the nerds. A global chocolate brand? Sure â but teen girls with handwritten signs too.
The most obvious point, after all (not an original observation, but true nonetheless), is that Comic Con has mutated into something far bigger than its original conception, now more of a Big Top for pop culture in general.
CCC 2025 had comics and anime, sure â but also board games, trading card games, pro wrestling, a film festival, a gaming contest, a âmedieval zoneâ. There were special guests: Paul Anderson (aka Arthur Shelby) from Peaky Blinders, Craig Fairbrass from the Rise of the Footsoldier movies, most excitingly perhaps Jason Paige, the original singer of the Pokemon theme (!). There was live music, from skull-splitting metal to J-Rock sensation ĐŻeaL, the first Japanese band ever to play in Cyprus.
A stroll along the retail booths illustrates the diversity. Tamara Tanakidou, for instance, has run Gatapou â a workshop in the old town â since 1999, making handcrafted dolls, bags and personal items. Not exactly part of nerd culture, she admits (though her dolls include versions of Coraline, Harry Potter and so on), but creative, and determinedly low-tech.
Just two minutes away, on the other hand â speaking of dolls, and personal items â is a booth for 3D Me Lab, an Oroklini-based company which, if youâll stand on a revolving machine and stay perfectly still for 15 seconds, will produce a 3D-printed statue/figurine of yourself, made from highly resistant resin, ranging in size from nine to 18cm and in price from âŹ70 to âŹ190.
They get all sorts of customers, explains their rep. âIt might be a doctor, for instance, whoâd like to have his own figurine in his officeâ. I nod in agreement â though I must say if I saw a 3D-printed Mini-Me staring up from my physicianâs desk, it wouldnât exactly fill me with confidence. Â

Iâve been dawdling (and, it must be said, sweltering) for an hour and still havenât seen anything specifically comics-related â but here, finally, is Artistsâ Alley, a space for artists to ply their wares, and of course they include comic-book artists like Nicos Koutsis, a veteran Greek illustrator whoâs worked with Erik Larsen at Image Comics, or fellow illustrator Nick Ashton (aka âChicken Monsterâ) who has a film background, worked on Harry Potter back in the day, and raves about CCC. Â
In London (where heâs based) thereâs MCM Comic Con, âthatâs the really big one. But itâs more like a corporate business, where you donât really get looked after â whereas here they embrace you as part of their family⊠People just generally seem, like, a bit more happy.â
Koutsis also compares it quite favourably with the somewhat larger Athens Con â but he also nods ruefully when I observe that comics have become almost an afterthought in todayâs pop culture.
âThe people who read comics are slightly older â because back then, there was nothing but comics,â sighs the middle-aged artist. âWhen we have a smartphone in our hands we can stream something, or play a video game â so we tend to forget about comics, or books in general.â
This, in the end, is the irony: that comics, which were once looked down on for being too visual in a literary world, are now ignored (at least by many kids) for being too literary in a visual world.
The artform canât seem to catch a break. The annual event named after it is thriving, however â even if itâs now expanded way beyond comic-book fans. Is that okay?
âSure,â says 34-year-old visitor George. âThe more the merrier!â

George works in IT â but the reason why he stands out from the crowd is because he has a tiny infant in a baby sling in front of him. Heâs been coming every year, he says, right from the very first CCC when (I presume) he was free and single. Itâs a tradition, at this point.
So whatâs the plan this year?
âHave a couple of beers and go,â he says, looking a little shamefaced. âBecause we have to move on. With the child, you knowâŠâ
Cyprus Comic Con is for everyone. Young dads with babies, teen punks with Mohawks, little kids and big kids, artists aspiring and professional. Walking around, I see Guts from Berserk hanging out with another Guts, then a K-Pop music stall, then shelves stacked with manga. I see the Lorax, Leatherface, a six-year-old Batman, three furry-eared teenage girls dressed in blue, green and red, their outfits adorned with an âSâ, âTâ and âAâ respectively. Whoa, wait a second â what are you guys?
âChipmunks!â
Itâs all perhaps too much, in the style of an all-you-can-eat buffet â or again not enough, in the style of a young person spending time in a magical world where everyoneâs just like them, and loves what they love, before being forced to head back to the more disappointing real one.
I also have to head back, equal parts overwhelmed and elated. Walking to my car I see Ghostface from Scream coming from the other direction, dressed in black and striding a little too purposefully â and feel my body tensing up instinctively as we pass each other. Then itâs over, and the world is the world again. Â