The face of Blue Shield Inc.

Anya looked around with wide eyes as she and her agent, a man named Marko Gonzalez, approached the building they'd been directed to. She'd had no idea this place was here but then most of her time on the west coast so far had been spent in other cities. She took pics on their approach, though avoided any selfies for now. These could go up on social media later after their meeting was over. She'd wanted to post them while they walked but her agent, ever aware of the tendencies of youth, glanced at her phone and saw the app open and reminded her that some companies didn't appreciate that. If she got the job they would probably want to release their own announcement before she made anything official on her social media.

Anya nodded to his sage advice and tucked her phone into her back pocket. She wore her civilian clothing, no need for Luna Hawk here, though her collapsed spear was mag locked to the small of her back as always. She'd gone light on the weaponry as well, bringing the spear but nothing else. Almost no one would recognize the spear as a spear. In its collapsed state it was just a golden metal tube no longer than a larger smart phone. When they approached their guide Marko smiled and gestured to Anya, whose impossible physical perfection wasn't marred when she smiled as well.

"My client," he said. He didn't like to introduce her by name to people they both knew already knew what her name was. He always felt that sort of thing was more insulting than polite. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Anya said.

ID was simple enough and they were passed over without fuss. Anya didn't worry about privacy, it wasn't the kind of thing her various lives had ever allowed. She was a little more surprised with their directness, especially the whole "you weren't our first choice" thing. Anya glanced at her agent but ultimately chose not to reply to it. It was different to have someone tell you there was competition, that was probably to be expected, but not their first choice was a little more off putting. Still, this was the business and she put it aside. 

The money didn't mean much to her either, enough money to get by for her parents and her family was fine. What she wanted to expand her career, get away from the Disney role before it became her identity as an actress. The role had been good to her, but it was time to move on to better things. This provided the perfect opportunity to start doing so. An advertising campaign as the face of a company would put her in the minds of adults as someone who was no longer defined by their relationship with Disney and the role they'd played entertaining their children. It was certainly a better path than others she'd seen taken. Miley Cyrus came to mind. 

Anya smiled at the last question, a genuine smile, the only one she was really capable of. "By all means," she said with a gesture for the woman to lead the way again. Her agent remained silent, he'd step in if he felt he needed to, but he'd hold most of what he had to say for either negotiations or when they were done here, whichever came first. 

Anya thought it was an impressive performance, but it wasn't what they needed. They were looking for a pretty face but pretty faces were a dime a dozen, especially in LA and physical talent, while impressive, wasn't going to sell their product. She offered a smile to everyone once the talking was over and she was introduced. "Thank you," she said. 

Anya was not nervous, she had far too much memory to tap into to be nervous and had already spent several years of her present life performing for others. She also had a memory that let nothing go and so the information she needed, the plan she had formed on the way here and confirmed for herself was the right approach upon seeing the place and the people auditioning, was all stored there as well. "It's kinda funny how society adjusts to things isn't it? Fifty years ago, to say nothing of a hundred, meta-human involvement in day to day life was, at best, limited, especially compared to today. In fact if one looks at Human history as a whole meta-human activity has been increasing steadily, only to hit a sudden, dramatic upswing in the last hundred years." 

She walked as she spoke, it wasn't pacing, pacing was nervous energy, this was part of body language, she had points to make and a whole, mostly empty room, to draw their attention away from. By moving she put herself on a form of display, it wasn't the sometimes seductive attraction of a dancer, but the sort of energy that demanded attention. She made eye contact with the so called judges, each in turn and back again. "We have evil declaring itself over major cities, monsters attacking coastal beaches, people dying or mutilated in major attacks on our cities and towns and it has become so common place that no one really reacts to it anymore. The news talks about battles, makes characters of the meta-humans involved and it passes everyone caught in the crossfire off as an unfortunate number." 

She stopped and drew her collapsed spear from it scabbard on the small of her back. The touch of a button extended the ancient golden weapon to its full length and she spun it in her hand. "People became more interested in this, or at least the media did. They talk about our weapons, our technology, our powers and costumes, but they forget the dead parents, the lost brothers and sisters, they forget the mutilated and traumatized. People get caught in the crossfire of these battles, intentionally or otherwise, and suffer because of it. The media doesn't talk about it, but that doesn't make it forgotten by the people who experience it. You know what else the media doesn't really talk about? Bullet proof school backpacks. They exist, they have existed for years. I wore one."

She held the spear point to the floor without touching it, allowing the weapon to serve as a reminder of what she was saying. "That's where Blue Shield exists, that's the space Blue Shield can fill. You have everything from emergency jacks to help people escape collapsed ruins on their own or with the help of others to medication for pain and anxiety that far exceeds anything else on the market, but your price, like the price of those early bullet proof school bags, is high. You can't make them cheaper, but you can make people understand the cost. Your products are a security investment, they're a rather have it and never use it than not have it and need it kind of tool."

Anya collapsed the spear. "Look, I love social media, that's my generation's thing right? Social media, a pretty face, those things will only get you so far because you're not selling to my generation. You're selling to our parents, the people who see a scary world with monsters out to get their kids and want some way to protect them because they don't have super powers. My parents are terrified, even with everything I can do, because they've already lost one kid the media didn't feel like talking about. I know how it feels, I know how they feel. Ask a parent to buy a $15,000 jack with a pretty face and they're going to see the $15,000 price tag. Ask them to buy a $15,000 jack as an investment in protecting their child? Different story. You can give them the power to feel like maybe, just maybe, they can protect their kid in a world that's gone crazy and they don't really understand anymore."

She let it sink in for a moment before she continued, wings tight to her back, face serious. "If I could have bought my dau--" she caught herself, she'd gone a little too far into the memories. "my brother something that would have saved his life, I would have gone broke to do it. It's not the price, it's understanding what your product can really do for them. Let me talk to people, I'll use the social media parents are on and I'll talk to them in person because it's important. The media can forget people like my brother all they want, but we can't. We can do something, you can do something, to make more people live through the next event because let me tell you, the heroes can't always do that. Sometimes our hands are tied fighting the threat." 

Sometimes we aren't fast enough. She had to lock her iron will of her emotions. It hadn't been her fault and she knew it. She would not dwell on it, she would live the life her brother would have wanted her to experience and if she could keep more kids like him from dying, she'd do that too. It wasn't all about the contract. 

"Anyway, I think we can do good together." She let silence take her place and would leave it to them to decide what they wanted. She retreated to where her agent stood watching and accepted her smart phone from him. Like many girls, her clothes didn't offer a lot of pockets and she hated walking around with the thing sticking out of an ass pocket like some weird invitation to stare, or steal the phone. She'd lost her phone once, what a nightmare that had been.