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Timestamp: 56th of Autumn, 513AV
It had been a good few days since Rosela's last visit to the Menagerie, and she'd agreed with her previous assertion that she had no intention of going back. There was nothing more to be done there but more of what she'd already done. She couldn't grow by doing the same old routines; she needed to try harder subjects. However, the only harder subject were the sentient beings that walked the streets around her. There were times she considered going back to the Menagerie and seeing the Symenestra and the Zith, but the thought of seeing their dead eyes, too much like those of the ape's, made her skin crawl. She didn't want sad, broken creatures that needed to be hypnotized into hoping for a better day; she needed to buck up and try her hand at her real targets: people.
She dressed carefully that day, with makeup neither too loud nor too minimal. Minimal would have been best, but she simply couldn't allow herself to go out with it. She needed to look good, but not too noticeable. It was probably a lost cause in any case: she was too good-looking to not get noticed.
Part of her wanted to try out her hypnotism on the shadows, something she'd considered since picking up the discipline. As large a part as they'd become in her life though, she wasn't sure she could trust them with this secret. Followers of Akajia weren't uncommon in her city, and those marked were seen on more than rare occasions. Who knew what the shadows told them? She wanted to believe they were her friends, and perhaps they were in their strange way, but this was a secret she could not allow to get out. Her reputation, and thus her entire future, was staked on it.
Before going out, she sat in the familiar spot on the floor in front of her mirror. There was a lot riding on this day, and her future with Hypnotism likely rode on her own skills. She wanted at least some soothing practice in the privacy of her bedroom before she threw herself into the outside world.
Taking a deep breath, the darkening focus came easily, narrowing her range of vision to her face in the mirror. It had become easier to summon her djed, seen in her mind's eye as fragrant red fog, and she called that forth as well. She imagined herself at a stall, with nameless wares, next to a faceless man. She would catch his eye easily, and make it out to be something small, polite, even accidental. Then she'd begin pushing, so slightly. Depending on the actions of the faceless shopkeeper, she'd try to plan emotional suggestions first, something she hadn't experimented with much at the Menagerie. The shopkeep may be suggested to be racist, or simply disliking the faceless man for some reason. Maybe the price he offered was outrageous. In any case, the man would not care what the shopkeeper thought, and would hopefully be comfortable with the notion of hurting him in some small way, such as stealing an item from the counter.
She visualized the red fog surrounding the man, being inhaled and seeping into his skin. She imagined him falling under her sway. She then cast her thoughts out, as though she were really next to this man. Thoughts of this faceless shopkeeper deserving to be hurt filled her mind, of him having done something to be hurt in a small, petty way. She imagined catching the man's eye again, and moving to the next part of her plan: the suggestion.
There would be some small thing in front of the man, something easily stolen. She would start small, something related to the item, make it desirable. 'Look at that, isn't it nice? I'd like that, I have a use for that, I'd really like to have that...' Then, she'd introduce the idea of stealing the item. 'This guy wouldn't miss that, he probably doesn't make much profit off of it, I could just take it while his back is turned and he'd never know, he wouldn't do inventory on all his small things...'
Rosela herself never did full inventory on the floor every day, though it was periodic. Her items were usually too big to be stuffed in a pocket, and the lingerie, which was small enough, was just opposite her desk. If the faceless man in her mind's eye was a business owner, he'd likely be thinking along the same lines. If he wasn't, then he'd never know any better anyway. After the idea to steal the item, she'd need to make it sound appealing, so much so that he'd actually do it. 'I could really use this thing, but I can't just buy it, I should just take it, slip it into my sleeve and go, he'd never know, he won't be losing any money over it, I really want this thing, I should just take it...'
There wasn't any place to go from there, so Rosela took a breath and allowed the fog in her mind to recede. There was the reminder not to go too far, something The Art of Hypnotism book went on about at length. The hypnotist's strength was in secrecy; planting an idea and helping it grow if necessary, but cutting off anything that refused to grow. Only a master Hypnotist could make use of the blunter tactics, and even those were relegated to 'emergencies only'. Novices, like her, needed subtlety, and the ability to let go if something wasn't working out.
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Timestamp: 56th of Autumn, 513AV
It had been a good few days since Rosela's last visit to the Menagerie, and she'd agreed with her previous assertion that she had no intention of going back. There was nothing more to be done there but more of what she'd already done. She couldn't grow by doing the same old routines; she needed to try harder subjects. However, the only harder subject were the sentient beings that walked the streets around her. There were times she considered going back to the Menagerie and seeing the Symenestra and the Zith, but the thought of seeing their dead eyes, too much like those of the ape's, made her skin crawl. She didn't want sad, broken creatures that needed to be hypnotized into hoping for a better day; she needed to buck up and try her hand at her real targets: people.
She dressed carefully that day, with makeup neither too loud nor too minimal. Minimal would have been best, but she simply couldn't allow herself to go out with it. She needed to look good, but not too noticeable. It was probably a lost cause in any case: she was too good-looking to not get noticed.
Part of her wanted to try out her hypnotism on the shadows, something she'd considered since picking up the discipline. As large a part as they'd become in her life though, she wasn't sure she could trust them with this secret. Followers of Akajia weren't uncommon in her city, and those marked were seen on more than rare occasions. Who knew what the shadows told them? She wanted to believe they were her friends, and perhaps they were in their strange way, but this was a secret she could not allow to get out. Her reputation, and thus her entire future, was staked on it.
Before going out, she sat in the familiar spot on the floor in front of her mirror. There was a lot riding on this day, and her future with Hypnotism likely rode on her own skills. She wanted at least some soothing practice in the privacy of her bedroom before she threw herself into the outside world.
Taking a deep breath, the darkening focus came easily, narrowing her range of vision to her face in the mirror. It had become easier to summon her djed, seen in her mind's eye as fragrant red fog, and she called that forth as well. She imagined herself at a stall, with nameless wares, next to a faceless man. She would catch his eye easily, and make it out to be something small, polite, even accidental. Then she'd begin pushing, so slightly. Depending on the actions of the faceless shopkeeper, she'd try to plan emotional suggestions first, something she hadn't experimented with much at the Menagerie. The shopkeep may be suggested to be racist, or simply disliking the faceless man for some reason. Maybe the price he offered was outrageous. In any case, the man would not care what the shopkeeper thought, and would hopefully be comfortable with the notion of hurting him in some small way, such as stealing an item from the counter.
She visualized the red fog surrounding the man, being inhaled and seeping into his skin. She imagined him falling under her sway. She then cast her thoughts out, as though she were really next to this man. Thoughts of this faceless shopkeeper deserving to be hurt filled her mind, of him having done something to be hurt in a small, petty way. She imagined catching the man's eye again, and moving to the next part of her plan: the suggestion.
There would be some small thing in front of the man, something easily stolen. She would start small, something related to the item, make it desirable. 'Look at that, isn't it nice? I'd like that, I have a use for that, I'd really like to have that...' Then, she'd introduce the idea of stealing the item. 'This guy wouldn't miss that, he probably doesn't make much profit off of it, I could just take it while his back is turned and he'd never know, he wouldn't do inventory on all his small things...'
Rosela herself never did full inventory on the floor every day, though it was periodic. Her items were usually too big to be stuffed in a pocket, and the lingerie, which was small enough, was just opposite her desk. If the faceless man in her mind's eye was a business owner, he'd likely be thinking along the same lines. If he wasn't, then he'd never know any better anyway. After the idea to steal the item, she'd need to make it sound appealing, so much so that he'd actually do it. 'I could really use this thing, but I can't just buy it, I should just take it, slip it into my sleeve and go, he'd never know, he won't be losing any money over it, I really want this thing, I should just take it...'
There wasn't any place to go from there, so Rosela took a breath and allowed the fog in her mind to recede. There was the reminder not to go too far, something The Art of Hypnotism book went on about at length. The hypnotist's strength was in secrecy; planting an idea and helping it grow if necessary, but cutting off anything that refused to grow. Only a master Hypnotist could make use of the blunter tactics, and even those were relegated to 'emergencies only'. Novices, like her, needed subtlety, and the ability to let go if something wasn't working out.
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