In the early days, he had solved this by physically throwing drinks at people. The splash of Qi-infused liquid acted like a bucket of ice water to the soul, jolting the dreamer into a state of semi-lucidity where they could recognise the ship.
But he couldn't spend his entire night playing target practice with thousands of potential customers. It was inefficient, wasteful, and beneath the dignity of the "Joker."
"Wait... I can do something else," he whispered, a sharp, cunning smile spreading across his face. "How come I never thought of this? I've been treating the ship's servants like furniture!"
He slapped his forehead, feeling a surge of both idiocy and inspiration. He didn't need to do the legwork himself. He channelled his Qi, manifesting five spectral servants. They were tall, elegant figures dressed in the black-and-gold livery of the Voyager, their faces obscured by featureless porcelain masks.
