Take a walk and tweak a neighborhood standard.

I was eyeing the mark on my wrist, wondering what the red glow meant when my sister walked back into the living room.

"Here," she passed me a Coke. After a swift catch, I thanked her and chugged it down.

"Ah," shortly followed my commercial-sanctioned exhalation. "Refreshing."

My sister uncapped her own. As she raised it up to her lips, my inner gnome kicked in and I concentrated on her.

Suddenly, instead of drinking her Coke, she promptly kept it a couple inches away from her lips, tipped it over, and let the liquid fall across her collar bone and down over her torso. With secretarian disposition she drenched her entire shirt. Then she stuck out her pants and poured the rest of the coke inside of it, front and back. Milking the bottle for every last drop possible, she discarded the empty receptacle and shook her clothes a little, pressing them against her body to absorb all the Coke.

"Mm," she smeared a finger, acquiring a humble wallop of sugary beverage, and stuck it in her mouth. "You're not wrong. There's nothing like a fresh, cold Coca-Cola." She continued rubbing her finger against every crack, crevice, and surface of her body that she could, then licking off whatever she was able to gather from her finger. After getting enough amusement from her unorthodox technique, I stretched, stood up and went to the door.

"I'mma go take a quick walk."

Abigail looked up. "Really, bro?" She gave her phone a glance. "Hana'll be here any minute."

I waved it away, giving her a look saying that I'd already made my mind and that was that. She just rolled her eyes and took a seat as I stepped out onto the porch. I wasn't sure when Hana would be making it, but traffic could be pretty harsh on even the most convenient interstate. So, in a scientific mood, I decided why not actually entertain the liberated young man I now clearly seemed to be while she was on the way?

And with all this power at my disposal, it would be awful unfortunate of me to confine myself to my own residential walls, now, wouldn't it? Not with all these people around with which to mingle.

Just normal people, family people, working classes, who I've seen before in passing glances and swishing car side-swipes, but never quite getting to know; at least not like in the movies, picking up newspaper rolls and waving hello to the lady trimming the hedge next door while chirping a flashy-teethed 'Good Morning America!'

Yeah, that wasn't the status quo in this neighborhood.

This neighborhood was friendly, but otherwise hands-off.

I looked at the mark again. Somehow, it felt calming to look at it. Assuring. Like I had full control, like everything was going accordingly. I dropped it back down to my side and breathed in the fresh morning air, cold as a bite of ice.

Anything could change, in time, couldn't it?

Swiveling my head left and right for cars, I crossed the street to the other side. I noticed a guy around my age in front of a house I was approaching climb into a car with his mother in the driver's seat. The backpack over his back reminded me briefly of what my day had originally comprised of before the sudden turn into Chosen One territory. Wincing, I shook my head.

Then I thought of something naughty.

I stopped, inhaled, and focused. It would be a bit tricky though. Trickier, even, than that gimmick with Diane. I wasn't sure just how wide the mark's scope was. But surely if I could control minds, manipulate otherwise mundane factors into being perverse triggers, reshape memories, and all with a thought... that could extend to reality? To society as well?

Memory, I thought. That somewhat androgynous, disembodied voice mentioned something like that. I shook my head again, discarding it. Regardless, I didn't feel like decoding ciphers.

Just go with the flow, I told myself again.

Go with the flow!

My eyes haplessly drifting to a nearby Neighborhood Watch sign, I closed them shut and shivered.

And, like before, I imagined a cross between a bubble and a blanket and draping them over the vicinity.

For a brief moment, I felt a sharp sting in my brain, and a slight burn from my wrist. Thankfully, they were extinguished as quickly as they had come, and left before any lasting pains could haunt me forever in my sleep...

But boy, was I probably a tad thinly clothed. The cold air billowed, pushing goosebumps onto the surface of my skin. I brr'd away.

Speaking of which...

"Hey, Mom," came the voice of the teen dude from earlier. "Let's go already."

"Coming, hun," replied a woman's voice.

I looked up, and when I did, what I saw made me hold my breath.

There, closing the door and locking it, was the same lady from earlier. Except, whereas earlier she had on a professional business suit and slacks, now she was exposed in just her underwear, an unassuming pair of light blue bra and panties. Her slight bush peeked just above the hem of her bottom garment as she lopped a strand of hair over her shoulder and walked down the steps to her car, where her son was waiting -- also, I noticed with a swallow, clothesless, barring his briefs and backpack.

However, as it turned out, despite being relatively under-dressed, they didn't exactly have a shortage in possessed attire.

Because there in plain view, over the mother's shoulder, were the clothes she had on from earlier. Likewise, the teen's shirt and pants were casually over his arms as he waited impatiently. The mother climbed into the car with the teen as they rolled out of the driveway, which I stopped at before getting collided in my stupor.

It worked... I thought with excitement. My eyes darted to the neighborhood sign from earlier. At first glance, it looked the same; but upon closer inspection, added to the side of the logo of the silhouetted man with a spyglass, was the silhouette of what was clearly a woman with a prominent bosom from side-view, the outline of her brassiere quite noticeable. In the fine text besides the disclaimer stating that all suspicious figures would be reported and the Neighborhood Watch program was currently in active practice and blah blah, was a new paragraph. It read,

'When outdoors, we enforce a strict clothes-off policy -- any member of the community 18 years or older can only wear their undergarments when outside, or go nude. As authorized and passed by local governance, and via the Neighborhood Body-Watch Program. Any questions or concerns may be addressed to the local board.'

I blinked thrice just to make sure I wasn't imagining it. Then, after a laugh of disbelief, devolved into an even longer laugh, and then a brazen fit. It worked alright.

It worked in spades!

The looks on that mom's face, and her son's -- it was like nothing had happened. Like nothing was off.

Well, somethings were definitely off, I could assure them. The image of the mother opening the door of her car, half-naked in her underwear, with her work clothes over her shoulder of all places, while she went along like this was a practical affair, tickled me once more. I tried to breathe for air, but the chill was as dry as comical sandpaper.

"Hey, kid! Keep it down, would ya!"

Regaining control, I turned to see an older middle-aged woman. Apparently she had gone out to check the mailbox in the house across the street. As my eyes moved to her, I grinned. She, too, was half-naked, showing off an actually decent body for a woman her age. Sure, there was a flab or two, but that natural, unfettered display just made it feel even more authentic. I noticed the bathrobe over her shoulder and the ridiculousness got to me.

"Nice bod, miss!" I shouted, winking in a bout of boldness.

She looked at me, horrified. Going off, she glared and was no doubt about to snarl a scathing remark when I stepped in, and she relaxed. What instead came out was much more reasonable. "...aw, thanks, hun. I hope you enjoyed the view. Now go along, and please, put any icy bitch like me in their place if needbe. You can ogle all the bodies you want. Bye now!"

With a wave and a smile, she went back up the path to her house and closed the door behind her, putting the bathrobe back on as she did. I watched her swaying butt go in silent approval.

"It was my pleasure," I mumbled. After a wave of my own, I turned forward and began walking again, liking how the day was looking so far. I blushed, thinking about Imogene, a girl I had a crush on who also lived nearby. It really was a bit intoxicating. How couldn't it be, with such capacity for havoc and bohemian indulgence?

I pulled out my phone and checked the time. I had apparently spent more time out here than I'd thought. I began heading back, though hesitated for a breath. It was tempting to continue stomping around. But in the same time, I was curious to see if Hana was already there. I shook my head and began walking...