The landscape consists of twisting gnarled trees that disappear off into the darkness. The ground is uneven and blotted with patches of tall brown grass. Gigantic tiki masks are planted in the ground like gravestones, and they seem to stare at you emptily. From the branches are costumes... either they're hung there or they've grown there. Paths wind off in all directions, passing by tall towers of stone that reach up into the dark sky and fall back down far, far away. Patches of the forest are lit by latex heads, lit from the inside, the color of fire. The heads seem to float just high enough to reach, and move about. Everything here is a costume, even the trees, even the ground. Every single object within this world can be worn, can transform you into something you're not. The forest is filled with night-sounds, the rasping of zippers, the snapping of buttons, and the feral squeek of latex. A warm humid breeze blows the costumes like spanish moss. The mood seems to waver between comfortable and creepy.
The Land of Disguises is ruled by the king of costumes, Mod. His subjects are strange creatures composed of various melded costume and body parts, such as snakes with eyes running down their backs, or kitten masks with wings. It's infinite in size and constantly growing. It's a haven to all those of costumey inclinations. Most Mess denizens don't move into the Land of Disguises, though it's not been unheard of.
They're a lot more mischievous than Mod is, and that says a lot. If a sentient wanders into the Land of Disguises with no clear agenda, and Mod isn't around, they'll most likely stuff them into a costume and sceal them inside. If they're feeling REALLY playful, well, we won't get into that.
If there's a big enough concentration of costumes, it usually yields an entrance to the Land of Disguises. There's an entrance in Interpron studios, the Museum as well as in Charmwarp.