The Halloween Festival: Money Making Area
Anya raised an eyebrow. What did Ezra Vanburen know of Sloane’s many ‘difficult nights’? To Anya, those currently boiled down to three things: Trying to protect a city that didn’t want protected, trying to protect herself and an unruly rabble from a magical serial killer, and having all her artifacts taken by an unknown thief. None of these were things Sloane would have told him… probably. Was there another issue Anya didn’t know about?
Well, that didn’t matter right now.
”Call me Anya, then,” Anya smiled, reaching out to shake his hand. It was a well practised and well done action - firm enough to show purpose, but not too firm to be overbearing. Her hand was small and smooth, with soft skin that was carefully taken care of. She didn’t balk away from eye contact, gaze confident and neutral. Two shakes, and she retracted her hand.
”I’m the third Ms Baksh, so I’m not too fond of that. It is rather unfortunate Sloane is facing so many problems… And it is difficult to have the right timing with her. Sometimes you have to force it.” She followed his gaze towards Sloane’s rapidly disappearing back. Of course, the good friend thing to do was to follow Sloane. The honest thing to do would be to completely ignore Sloane, and push her business. Of course, Anya chose to toe the line of both - acting like a truly caring friend, while still pursuing her own desires.
"My other friend is going to talk to her," Anya gestured towards Jack... Who had disappeared. Because of course he had. He was too reliant on his abstraction to just walk anywhere.
"The two of them need to discuss their issues without me there. I would just be intruding unnecessarily. I have approximately fifteen minutes until I’ll be needed. If I’m wrong and needed, I’m sure she’ll call me." Anya carefully opened her handbag and pulled out a business card. It was neat and to the point, with ‘Boundless Dreams’ written in dark purple, cursive text on the front along with, with the s curling out to a cloud. Underneath was her name in much smaller writing, and on the back was a phone number and address.
”What I do would be most simply described as consultations, with a focus on dreams, and specialised services.” She watched him carefully as she held out the business card. There was no point going into the details if he was going to dismiss it immediately. Of course, he was someone she’d try her hardest to impress… But if she couldn’t convince him to take a locator stone (for free, of course), to then
prove her services, she wouldn’t get anywhere.
”That’s just the basics, of course. There’s much more to it than that.” Ezra took the business card and ran his thumb over the print, his reaction to the initial pitch quite muted. Frankly, it would be impossible to tell if the tightening of the brow and quick twitch of the lip when Anya mentioned dreams was a dismissive smirk foreshadowing the conclusion of this conversation or simply the face of a man trying to read the small font in poor lighting. He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a sleek and polished dark steel card holder, flicking it open with a satisfying snap to reveal a daunting spectrum of other business cards. Ezra didn’t give the impression of being the kind of man who’d tolerate clutter with his personal effects, meaning there was quite the horrifying possibility that the dozen and a half cards or so had all been handed to him today. His hand turned ever so slightly, masking where in the holder Anya’s business card made it, as he tucked it back into his pocket.
“One would hope. It’s niche. It’s really niche,” said Ezra, almost to himself, his arms crossed with the look of a proper skeptic etched on to his face.
“However, niche doesn’t equate to bad. There could be a market. Some people always want to share their dreams and try to grasp meaning from what are essentially just random images caused by the firing off of neurons, but most people also tend to glaze over when someone recites their dream to them, typically around the time the third or forth ‘it was you but it wasn’t you’ is being uttered,” said Ezra.
“A hirable consultant lets the one camp share to their hearts content while sparing me from having to hear about how my sister spoke with an angel yet again.”Ezra smiled to show that he did not intend to offend even though his words were coded with condescension.
“I’d want to hear more about these specialized services, but before that I’d like to know more about you, Anya, other than how it sounds that, like me, you’re also burdened with siblings,” said Ezra. The smile lingered, as did his gaze.
“What are your qualifications? Your credentials? Why go to you instead of the shrink down the hall?”Anya was unbothered by the clearly condescending words. When you were confident in yourself and your abilities, and knew your worth, other people's opinions rarely affected you. It didn't matter who those opinions came from. At the end of the day, she knew she would make it, with or without his investment. It would greatly speed up her future plan, but wasn't necessary. She wasn't intimidated by his scepticism or the sheer amount of business cards he already had. It would be his loss if he didn't invest in the end, after all.
"If dreams are, as you say, random images caused by firing off neurons, then so are all our thoughts," Anya said evenly, her smile not wavering. She had perfected smiling, and all the minute changes to make to go from a joyful friendly smile to a more polite business one.
"Dreams reflect the aspects of us we don't even see. Along with this, our sleep quality affects our ability to function during the waking day, and this in turn is affected by dreams. Say you dream of being late to work, and wake up panicked about that - your day is already off to a bad start and that anxiety will linger. Dreams can often point to the problem, and solving dream related sleep issues can massively improve quality of life."She spoke calmly, with enough passion for it not to appear like she was reading off a script but not so enthusiastic it was overwhelming. Of course, she was genuinely passionate about her work, but she knew the correct way to show that.
"I am significantly less burdened than you," Anya laughed lightly. She only had three siblings, after all.
"As for qualifications... I minored in neuroscience, though I took enough extra credit courses that it was close enough to my major. Unfortunately, my major itself is useless for the business - Chemistry at my parent's behest. I am currently pursuing a part time masters in Cognitive Neuroscience around my business. I have at least four certificates in dream analysis and psychology, and I've been independently studying it for ten years. I've read the majority of books about the field. Some are absolute nonsense, of course. My business related qualifications are lacking, but I have experience aiding both friends and family. I helped my older brother set up his business and took my own from something I ran out of my living room to an independent shop. As for why anyone should go to me, rather than another? Expertise. A normal therapist has a much broader but shallower understanding. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that no one else knows as much about this subject as I do."Her lips pulled up into a wider smile, the spider painted on her cheek creasing slightly. It was confident and more genuine, her dark eyes lighting up slightly. Perhaps it was because she had gotten to talk about all her own achievements, or perhaps it was confidence in what she was about to say.
”And I can guarantee that I'm the only one who can actively change people's dreams for them.”Ezra laughed, but it died when he realized Anya had not just been blowing hot air. The other shoe was right on time just moments after Anya had legitimately impressed the man with her knowledge and accolades. Often he expected the people he was dealing with to be working some kind of angle, or padding their resume, or just outright lying, but he had detected no falsehoods in any of Anya’s statements. Even the impossible guarantee had been spoken with such an earnesty that for a moment Ezra had actually believed that she believed it.
“Anya, I’ve unfortunately been raised to be an honest man. While it pains me to do it to someone who seems so wonderfully driven and thoughtful, I am required to call bullshit,” said Ezra, actually sounding sorry.
“I’ve been forced to attend enough TED Talks on magical thinking and the power of belief to know that while you could influence what a person thinks and dreams, there’s no actual tangible way to guarantee that any of it sticks and they don’t go back to standing in front of their classroom naked. False promises like that are liable to doom a potential prospect.”Ezra gave his words a moment to sink in and then continued,
“But having said all of that, let’s pretend that I’m a dishonest man. I owe that much to you for giving me advice on how to handle Ms. Faris. So assume that instead of saying bullshit, I said elaborate.”Ah. Anya did regret, for a moment, bringing up changing dreams. A drunken slip up, perhaps. It was the least believable to people more grounded in reality, even if it was something she could do. Sticking to her very real and impressive qualifications would have been the smarter move, and one she would have made if she wasn’t three cocktails in. But words couldn’t be taken back, and there was no point dwelling on that.
”Point taken. I’ll take that one out of the next pitch I make.”She smiled, seemingly not upset in the slightest about him calling it bullshit. It was only a reasonable reaction. Loathe as she was to admit it, that had been a blunder on her part. Thankfully her friendship with Sloane was once again showing its benefits.
”There’s no magical thinking or power of belief involved.” Only actual magic itself.
”Dreams are essentially just electrical impulses in the brain, which can be studied and influenced. It’s possible to generate signals for the brain to read that influence dreams - from subtle changes to make them slightly better, to completely dictating what a dream should be piece by piece. The process is… complicated, but entirely founded in science. It’s based on a combination of neuroscience and dream psychology. By studying the electrical signals the brain creates during a specific dream, it’s possible to recreate it or figure out entirely different ones.”Anya opened her handbag again, carefully looking inside it. She pulled out a small, black box. It looked rather unassuming but it was actually filled with complicated circuitry. Of course, that didn’t do anything she’d described. That was all nonsense, of course. As qualified as she was, and as good as she was with neuroscience, something that could influence the brain’s signals wasn’t feasible with science. The black box was merely the presentation she’d chosen for a dream locator object in this situation. For most who sought her she went for crystal, as they were already spiritual people. That wouldn’t work here. She was glad she’d brought one of these, which she had a lower supply of. Though she didn’t need him to take it to get into his dreams, she did to prove the machine ‘worked.’
”Of course, I don’t expect you to just believe it. You already called ‘bullshit’, which I completely understand. I wouldn’t believe it either. But,” she held up the black box,
”I can demonstrate it for you with this. Not right now, as it requires the user to be asleep and dreaming, but tonight. If you wish to try it.” The skeptical look crossed Ezra’s face again as he reached out to accept Anya’s box. He held the device that sounded like it was straight out of science fiction up to his eyes as he inspected it. A sleek little black box that rests on a nightstand and guarantees the user better dreams that leave them more energized and ready to take on the world. Sweeter dreams, happier days. Catchy, easily marketable to housewives and middle managers hoping to bring a spark back to their suburban nightmare. An invention that would make the world a better, brighter place. The kind of thing any honest man should champion.
A dishonest man would see another path. If dreams could be tailormade, they could be mass marketed. Imagine dreams that continued to reaffirm with yourself how fat and ugly you were so you’ll buy in to the next fad diet, dreams paid for by the next sociopathic television star trying to kick start their political career to get you to vote for them, dreams that told you to consume and buy and reproduce and obey. A dark dystopian future until someone figured out how to install an ad blocker in the box.
Fortunately, it was bullshit. Except with every new idea there was also the person who cried out that it’d never work. Ezra didn’t want to be the exec laughing off the idea for the smartphone or the man in the cave screaming about how they didn’t need agriculture when they could just go hunt dangerous game instead and live to the ripe old age of thirty. So even if it was bullshit, he had to know for certain.
“And let’s say I don’t remember my dreams?” asked Ezra with a smugness to his smile that all but vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
“No, you know what, fuck it. You’re the first interesting person I’ve talked to tonight, which is impressive considering I typically find someone talking about dreams to be a conversation killer. Plus, most people would hear me call something bullshit and immediately start falling apart or pushing back, but you rolled with the jabs and cooked while under pressure. How do I go about setting this, this…thing up? You have a name for it?”"Well, when most people talk about dreams, they really just want to talk about themselves and their boring lives. That’s the conversation killing aspect, is it not?” Anya’s eyes crinkled at the corners, clearly pleased.
”And anyone who breaks after merely being questioned a little bit doesn't deserve to be in business at all. It’s unnamed right now, beyond being boringly called a dream box. Here."Anya reached out, a delicate finger tapping the top right corner of the box, where there was a slightly indented circle. A red LED appeared next to where her finger had been. She was glad she'd had her brother, with his electronic engineering firm, manufacture these for her in exchange for her occasional help.
"Unfortunately, it's quite limited at the moment. It requires complicated programming that only I know currently, and it needs reprogrammed for a second use. This is something I'm working on, but it's a difficult problem to overcome." Infusing an object with even a fraction of her dream manipulation power was incredibly difficult. While she could infuse them for good dreams, specifics were a lot trickier. She was trying to at least infuse a specific dream into an object, but it was difficult. Her real goal was to combine her pink-white-orange lux to have an object that could read a user's desires, and then manipulate their dreams towards it. That was a very far off goal.
"The short term goal is to have ‘preset’ dreams, with a much vaguer specification. For example, a relaxing dream in a field, as opposed to the specifics I offer currently. It is something of a bespoke service for now, but I’m actively working to change that."She spoke clearly and concisely, open about the current issues in her business while also presenting the solutions. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her phone, pulling up a program connected to the box. Of course, it didn’t actually program dreams, but it would change the LED colour.
"What do you want to dream about? I can program it from here. Then, it’s as simple as pressing the button and putting it beside your bed at night."“Dealer’s choice?” suggested Ezra. He reasoned that the validity of the test could be tainted if he offered a suggestion. He pulled out a business card of his own and handed it to Anya.
“You can tell me what you programmed the dream to be in the morning. If, by some stroke of insanity, it actually matches up, we can proceed with setting up an actual business meeting later. Even the best startups centered around the greatest ideas and run by the best possible person can still fail. We can discuss how to avoid common pitfalls, as well as the potential of future investments and perhaps a partnership.”“Assuming, of course, that is something you would be interested in,” said Ezra with a smile that said he already knew the answer to a question.
“Sometimes I get ahead of myself. Don’t feel like a yes now means you can’t say no later. It’d just be further discussions. Nothing is official until you sign your name on the dotted line.””Dealer's choice it is.” Anya took the business card from Ezra and held it between her fingers as she typed on her phone. It was easy to pretend to be typing something complicated when she was really typing a simple program, and some nonsensical comments. Dealer's choice made things easier for her - all she had to do is enter his dreams, add a few memorable elements, and that would be her job done. At the same time as 'programming' she sent a text to both Sloane and Jack, asking where they'd ended up. Once that was done, she pressed a button and the LED on the box lit up green before disappearing. She then slipped her phone into her pocket.
”It's done. We shall see in the morning if I meet your lacking expectations, or exceed them.” It was clear she'd take the offer to both of them, but the words still had to be said.
”Of course it is something I'm interested in. It is the... dream,” her lips curved up in amusement at her word choice,
”of many small business owners to get advice from someone so successful. I'd be a fool to turn it down.”She took a step back, raising the business card still between her fingers.
”I'll contact you with the details of the dream in the morning. For now, I should go after Sloane and ensure she's not chased off our other friend. It was a pleasure talking to you, Ezra.””Of course,” said Ezra, shifting to head on his way.
”Thank you for your time, Anya, and for not being a waste of mine.”Anya smiled, and inclined her head towards him, turning to head in the direction Sloane had disappeared.
See you in your dreams tonight, Ezra.
Henri Han
Linqian’s eyes narrowed as Edict’s images played across her vision, shooting him a glare. Play it cool? There was only one reason she didn’t want to play it cool - him. But it did seem like her brother was
actually drunk. He was swaying as if there was music playing in his head, and staring at them like he’d suddenly forgotten why he was coming over there in the first place. It took everything in her to not just fucking explode at everyone. Fine. Play it cool. She could do that.
When Henri was bombarded by a hallucinatory mashup, he froze again. The words played through his mind, immediately calming his panic. Linqian didn’t know, and the magic man wasn’t going to tell her. He let out a soft sigh of relief, half swaying to the songs playing in his mind. At the same time, he was blown away by the magic itself - it was so cool! So impressive! He grinned like a drunken fool at that, inadvertently playing into the role he’d been given.
"But you think I don't know who this is?"Edict’s words sent a shiver down Linqian’s spine. Her heart rate increased and breathing got a little more difficult. She tilted her head to look at Edict, eyes scarily expressionless and lips twisted into a dark frown.
Of course it was obvious who Henri was. He looked like so much like Jinhai had at that age- fuck. There were too many similarities between them. Perhaps if the fake moustache had still been there… no, that was unlikely to change anything. Shit.
”When I was his age, I was working my ass off to keep him fed,” Linqian muttered.
But it wasn’t the worst case scenario. Edict had walked away just like she wanted. He’d recognised Henri, but hadn’t talked to him. It was fine, she could tell Henri to go home and then enjoy the rest of her night-
Then Layla did the worst thing possible, and invited him to join them. Linqian’s head snapped around to shoot a heated glare at Layla. She wanted to tell her to fuck off, to shoot her temperature up to one hundred and grab her by the shoulders until she cried from the pain. This was the second time she was trying to ruin Linqian’s night. The toga push she could forgive - it only hurt her. But this? No.
But she couldn’t do any of that in front of Henri.
”Oh yeah, Linqian’s my big sister!” Henri grinned widely at Layla, waving back. She looked a lot younger than his sister and the man with the magic… Closer to his age, perhaps. He didn’t know Linqian had friends his age! She should’ve invited him along. He quickly caught up to them with his long legs.
”I’m Henri Han, nice to meet you, I guess you’re one of my sister’s friends… Hell yeah I’ll join!”He then looked at Linqian as if asking permission.
She pinched the bridge of her nose, holding back an exasperated sigh. She wanted to say no. She should say no. But Henri was hitting her with that adorable look of his he used when he wanted something from her.
”Fine. But no more drinking.””Yay! I promise I’ll be good!” Linqian rolled her eyes, spinning on her heel and hurrying to catch up with Edict - having to jog a bit to do so. She fell into step beside him. If Henri was going to be with them, which she wasn’t happy about, she had to make sure he didn’t try anything. She moved close into his side, pressing into his personal space, and leaned in and up towards his ear so there was less chance of her being overheard.
”If you use any of your pink lux bullshit on him, I’ll burn your dick off, got it?” Linqian hissed. She then lowered herself back down to her normal height, expression relaxing as if she hadn’t just threatened him. With that out of the way, she was willing to be somewhat chill about it because Edict had walked the fuck away just like she wanted… it was Layla who’d invited him along.
”You know, I am going pretty fucking easy on him by not dragging him home by his ear. Fuck! Now I have to babysit. Staying cool really worked out.”Though her brother was an adult, she often felt like he hadn’t matured past his early teens. Perhaps that was on her and Jinhai, as the ones who raised him… but she was pretty sure she’d taught him better than that.
”Hey, Jiieeee, introduce me to everyone!” Henri piped up, coming right up behind her. He practically loomed over her thanks to being much taller. For once his eternal happiness didn’t make Linqian feel any better. Hopefully he’d grow bored of hanging around them on the ferry journey and then she could send him home.
”C’mon, Jie, don’t be so grumpy, I want to get to know your old friends! You used to talk about them all the time. C’mon, introduce me, introduce me!””Keep being this annoying and you’re going home,” Linqian snapped, switching to Chinese instantly.
”I said you could have one drink, Yi-er. I also told you to not disturb me unless it was an emergency!””What, was I just supposed to ignore you?” Henri whined, replying in English.
”That would be rude!” ”Yes, that’s exactly what you were supposed to do.””But you always taught me to be polite. Also, Jie, isn’t it rude to talk in a language not everyone can understand? When I was younger you stopped me from talking Chinese to another kid at school, saying it wasn’t nice. Aren’t you being a bit hypocritical?” ”That wasn’t-” Linqian pinched the bridge of her nose, swapping back to English.
”It was what you said, not the language you said in it.”Henri grinned, completely ignoring that.
”So, introductions!””Fine.” Linqian really didn’t want to, but in the time the two of them were bickering they’d reached the ferry dock - and her chances of getting rid of him were getting slimmer and slimmer. She gestured between the other four, pointing to each as she said their name.
”Layla, Sabrina, Britney, and… Greyson. This is my brother... Henri.” ”Henri,” Henri corrected with the proper French pronounciation, compared to her more American one. But it was fine, since she never used that name for him... she used his family only Chinese name. He grinned at them all, entire expression full of shining joy. It completely contrasted Linqian’s tight lips and narrowed eyes, and for those that had known Jinhai well was jarringly different to the smug smiles he’d often had. His eyes lingered on Edict a little longer than the other three - after all he had magic! But he looked away as Linqian looked his way.
”Nice to meet you all! I’m guessing you're all the old friends her and Ge- uh, Jinhai- used to talk about! That got close and supported each other during that weird disaster ten years ago!”He then turned to Linqian.
”Oh, Jie, do you still have the food you brought? Can I have some?””Fine.” Linqian carefully opened her bag, shoving aside her red riding hood clothes to cover the gun that was still in there and pull out the tupperware she'd been carrying the whole time. She held out the one filled with finger foods to Henri.
Henri grabbed it with a grin, cracking it open and pulling out a dumpling which he shoved right in his mouth. He instantly grabbed another and then held out the container to everyone else. It was filled with a mix of food - dumplings, both small and large, baozi and spring rolls along with potato skins, chicken wings, (homemade) pizza rolls and all sorts of other finger foods.
”Want any? They're really good!”Linqian just sighed, looking tired. She needed another five drinks, right now. But could she even drink with her little brother around? She certainly couldn't pursue the one other thing that would take her mind off the shitshow. She was definitely sending him home early. Or leaving with him, dumping him at home, and going back out to a club to get smashed in both ways.
”... Let’s get on the ferry.”
1x Laugh
