“Oh, ho. We have an entrepreneur here among us. Well, there is nothing like a little collaboration between an entertainer and one of the fine businesses that make this city great. Of course, I need to ensure it’s a type of business I can support. I do have a reputation to uphold, my lady.”
Libi approaches, handing him one of the many flyers, but Mesmer wags his finger and produces from his sleeve a folded-up paper. He unfolds it, bit by bit, only to turn it over and show that it is one of the flyers.
“Ah, yes”, he proclaims, clapping his hands together and showing with open palms that he no longer holds the document. “Baker’s Bakery. Why, who here has not heard of it already? And our local celebrity pastry chef has offered each person possessing one of these papers a free cookie…with another purchase, of course. Go ahead and hand them out. That’s right. Does everyone have an advertisement who wants one? Excellent!”
“Now, my dear”, he says, bowing to Libi, “are you ready to have your mind mesmerized by my hypnotic suggestions?”
Libi’s throat tightens, and her hands clench. Her mind wanders back toward a nightclub establishment and of serpentine eyes and a venomous bite that pumped through her body and enflamed her desires. It was an experience both horrifying and thrilling. “What, uh, exactly happens in these sessions?”
“Why”, he says, running his finger along the brim of his hat, “Nothing that the subject wouldn’t do, albeit with the liberation of anxieties. Many who have fallen under my spell have reported decreased stress and increased comfort in public situations. After all, after having performed in the silliest manner by simple suggestion, what could possibly embarrass them afterward?”
He places a hand upon his heart and bows his head, “And, I can assure you that in my hypnotic sessions, the one who is center stage shall run the show. I shall merely be a guest in your mind palace. All the doors I open shall be from your own admission.”
“I won’t give up any secrets, would I?” Libi asks, her tongue peeking out as she asks.
His eye sparkles. “Nothing you weren’t considering telling us to begin with. Rest assured, my dear, your bank accounts and buried corpses are safe from us.”
The crowd chuckles at the grim humor. Mesmer allows them time to peter out before he holds out his hand. “So, have we an accord?”
Libi ponders for a moment before she takes his hand, shaking it with a firm grip. “You know what? Sure!”
“Then, you and I are of equal minds here, my dear”, he replies, never entirely staying completely still, even while standing next to her. He shifts his pinky or his wrist or his toe within his shoe. Each rolls slowly without disturbing the rest of his body. Each of them is a subtle motion that draws the eyes.
“You see, hypnosis is all about relaxation”, he says, pausing, “and truth.” His voice is an auditory focus point unrelated to his visual cues. “Once relaxed, the hypnotized is open to the truth, both within themselves and from what the hypnotist provides. The truth is then revealed to you and to the audience.” As he says this, he gestures at the crowd, just another professional flourish…perhaps. “Many think such surrender weakens a person–that mind control makes one a puppet, if only through the one reorganizing what you thought possible and impossible. Now then, care to grant us your name?”
“Libi”, she says. Her words come out as a sigh with no hesitation whatsoever. She stares at nothing, her head slightly tilted and her shoulders slightly hunched. Her lips curl into a soft smile.
“Very good, Libi”, Mesmer praises her, maintaining his movements. “Now, while you think of a time you’ve felt the most relaxed in your life, what is something you’ve wanted to share with the audience?”
Libi disappears from the gazebo and finds herself shivering through a cold Anteronian night, dressed in her pajamas. She wraps herself in a warm blanket and sits by a warmer fire, all the cold disappearing from her.
“I really do love the Bakery. It’s a beacon of light in the darkness of this world. Much more than you could possibly know. It’s a job for me, but it’s also more than that.”
She falls to her knees when she says this, swaddling herself in the imaginary blanket, leaning her head against her shoulder.
Mesmer leans closer to Libi, whispering into her ear. “Whenever you hear the words ‘Baker’ or ‘bakery,’ even from your lips, you will slip deeper into this relaxation.”
Libi hisses inward.
“So, is this the uniform you wear at Baker’s”
She sighs.
“Bakery?”
Her eyes flutter.
She leans back, her arms dangling, staring upwards with a dazed smile filling her face. “Uh-huh”, she coos, her breath a steady rhythm, in and out… in and out…
“Surely, a woman of your beauty and your adventurous attitude has more desires in her life than simply being a baker at Baker’s Bakery, yes?”
The audience is barely a factor; it is just Libi and Mesmer now on the stage, and they are the only things in her reality.
“I like it”, she admits. “It’s a nice job. I can’t really complain, but”, she shudders as if a piece of herself were wriggling out of her. “I like working for myself, protecting people.” Those last words emerge as no more than a whisper as her clouded eyes see nothing.
“I see, I see”, Mesmer notes. “Now, then, Libi, I wish you recall the most pleasantly satisfying experience you can remember as you tell us what you like to do in your free time. When you are free from responsibilities and haven’t a care in the world.” He lifts her right arm, gently circling her wrist as he holds her up.
“I like, I…” she sighs, falling back into the ground, the only support being his gentle caress. “I like to explore myself and who I am. I like to discover new things about myself, spiritually and physically. I like to fight against being afraid to make myself a better…” she sighs dreamily, her eyes fluttering.