Jon was sitting in his room. Again. It was now late, around 11 pm, and Jon was bored out of his skull trying to think of a change he liked.
The movie had been entertaining, but he couldn't help but feel he had made a mistake in his earlier limitation. But he couldn't undo it now, and trying to move forward was driving him batty.
He sat up and, taking the stone, made a quick wish:
"Ah weesh zat zere would be no eesue weeth me going out late at night." He hopped off the bed and put on his shoes and jacket, navigating down through the house and out the front.
"Mama, ah am going out for some air."
His mother, who was herself on the way to bed, didn't seem concerned at all, and answered back in the voice he had had to accept was hers. "Be carful, ok jon? And hav a nise walk!" She smiled. It was utterly absurd to hear the pale suburban matron speaking with an accent like a swarthy spanish model, but Jon had gotten used to the fallout of that particular wish being absurd.
Jon stepped out into the night air and took a deep breath. Typically he wouldn't go out like this on a saturday night. It wasn't like he had anywhere to go, after all. Dorky high schoolers aren't exactly mainstays on the late-night clubbing scene. But he had purpose tonight! He was going to go make some changes. Drink in the differences he'd already made. Have some fun!
He pondered whether he should invite Karyn along, but... eh, not yet, at least. He could use some alone time.
He reached the end of the block and found...
"Ah, zee bus. Ahve courze. Eet would stand to reeson eet eez not running regularly so late at night..." He snickered listening to himself. "I weesh... I was downtown. Near zee beach, where zee clubs are.
And, when he blinked, there he was.
Jon's head spun a bit, disoriented by the sudden move in space, and the sudden sensory differences. He could smell the water, and his ears and eyes were being assaulted. All around him was a throng of people, most of them students from the nearby university, and many more visitors on summer break. The sound of thumping music, whooping conversations, and someone occasionally being sick all made the soundscape quite overbearing, and the glowing lights that lined the whole beachfront, each attempting to lure passerby into their personal den of dancing and drink-based-extortion, glittered off his glasses and the water far off to the side, down below the breakwater. Jon breathed deeply. On some level, he'd always wanted to come here, just to see what it was like. Karyn had always guessed it was like a sci-fi convention, but more expensive and at night, with about the same number of drunk people and less chance for conversation.
It would seem she'd been correct.
Jon mosey'd cooly through the crowd, doing his best to avoid having his scrawny frame shoulder checked by drunk polo'd party boys, and girls in shoes that made them taller than he was. He noted with some amusement that they were all effected by his earlier wishes. Bushy fox tails flowed behind every single one fo them, and as he wandered through the crowd, he heard conversations held in attractively thick accents ranging from Italian to Swedish to British to his own over the top french.
He was trying to think of... something he could do. He was frustrated with how uncreative he was feeling. All this power, and such a simmering stew of humanity to use it on, and the best idea that had popped into his head so far was...
