The Unaware World

"You’re ellora_theintrovert, an average 20-something that lives alone. One day, you decide to go and get a cup of coffee from your local café, deciding a walk might be a nice distraction from daily life. You step out of your house, and onto the sidewalk, when a bright flash from above meets your eyes." "A few moments later, you find yourself blacked out on the sidewalk. You brush yourself off, and get up. A voice takes you by surprise, it seems to come from within you." “Dear ellora_theintrovert…. You have been chosen. You have been given the ability to do anything you wish…. and nobody will notice. Tell people to do something, and they will without question. Essentially… do anything, or make someone else do something…. and it will be as if everything is normal. Use it as you wish…” "You decide to continue walking to the café, and open the door, the little bell ringing to signal your arrival. The barista looks up at you and smiles, before going back to whatever coffee the last person had ordered. There’s a little bit of a line though, maybe you should see if your new powers are up to snuff!"

"The barista blinks in surprise, looking at you with a mix of confusion and slight annoyance. She glances at the line, then back at you, as if trying to figure out if you're joking or not. After a moment, she sighs and steps out from behind the counter." "Look, I can't just skip people in line, that's not how this works," she says, her tone exasperated. "You'll have to wait your turn like everyone else." "She gestures to the line, where the other customers are starting to shift and murmur in annoyance at the delay. It's clear they weren't expecting this either." "Maybe if you order something simple, I can get to you a little faster," she adds, though her tone suggests she's not particularly hopeful.

"The barista stares at you for a long moment, her brow furrowed in confusion and a hint of frustration. She opens her mouth as if to speak, then closes it again, seemingly at a loss for words." "Finally, she lets out a long sigh and rolls her eyes." "Okay, let me get this straight," she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "You're saying that I should just...what, magically make your coffee appear? That I have the power to control people's actions and make them do whatever I want?" "She steps closer to you, her eyes narrowing." "Is that it? Because if so, let me tell you something. I don't give a damn about your 'powers' or whatever you think you have. I'm not some mindless automaton that's going to bow and scrape to whatever you want just because you say so." "She turns back to the espresso machine, her hands on her hips." "Now, if you're going to order like a normal person, I'll make your coffee. But if you keep trying to pull this ridiculous stunt, I'll have you thrown out of my shop. Got it?" "The other customers in line are starting to get restless, muttering and shifting their weight. It's clear they're not entirely sure what's going on, but they don't like it."

"The barista's eyes widen in disbelief, her mouth falling open slightly." "You...you can't be serious," she says, her voice shaking with a mixture of anger and disbelief.* "She takes a step towards you, her hands clenched at her sides." "Listen to me very carefully, because I'm only going to say this once. I don't know what game you're playing, but I'm not going to be a part of it. I'm not going to make your coffee or touch anyone else just because you say so. That's not how the world works." "She turns to the customer at the end of the line, who's looking at her with a mixture of confusion and concern." "And you," she says, her voice sharp, * "you will not give this person a massage. You will not do anything that person asks you to do. Got it?" "The customer nods slowly, still looking somewhat bewildered, but the barista's tone leaves no room for argument." "Now, if you two will excuse me, I have a job to do. And I'm not going to let some delusional customer interfere with it." "She turns back to you, her expression hard." "I suggest you take your 'powers' and use them somewhere else. Because here, in my shop, I make the rules. And right now, the rule is that you can get in line like everyone else. Or get out. Your

"The barista's jaw drops, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief." "You...you can't be serious," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.* "She takes a step back, shaking her head in disbelief." "Okay, let's say for a moment that I believe you. Let's say that you really do have some kind of power that lets you make people do things. Even then, there's no way I'm going to give you a refund for everyone's drinks. That's not how business works. And I'm certainly not going to have someone sing a song for you in the middle of my shop." "She glances at the other customers, who are watching the exchange with a mixture of confusion and concern. The customer at the end of the line looks like he wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole." "And as for your coffee," she continues, her voice hardening, * "I don't care how much power you think you have. I'm not going to make it for you. I'm not going to make it for anyone who's not in line. And I'm not going to let you turn my shop into some kind of...of...nightmare." "She takes a deep breath, her eyes flashing with anger." "Now, I'm going to ask you one more time. Are you going to order like a normal person, or are you going to keep making these ridiculous demands? Because if you

"The barista stares at you for a long moment, her expression a mixture of disbelief, anger, and a hint of fear. She opens her mouth to speak, then closes it again, seemingly at a loss for words." "Finally, she lets out a long, shaky breath and slams her hands on the counter." "OKAY! That's it! I've had enough of your...your...whatever the hell you think you are!" she shouts, her voice rising above the murmurs of the other customers.* "She turns to the customer at the end of the line, who's looking at her with a mix of confusion and concern." "You," she says, pointing at him.* "You will get up here and sing 'I Will Survive' by Gloria Gaynor. And you will do it now." "The customer blinks, clearly shocked by the sudden demand. But something in the barista's tone leaves no room for argument. He nods slowly, still looking bewildered, and starts to make his way to the front of the line." "The barista turns back to you, her eyes flashing with anger." "And you," she says, pointing at you.* "You will give me a refund for everyone's drinks. And you will...you will..."* "She trails off, seeming to realize that she's lost control of the situation. She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself." "Just...just go away.

"The barista's face pales, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. She takes a step back, bumping into the espresso machine behind her." "You...you can't be serious," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.* "She turns to look at the other customers, who are watching the exchange with a mixture of confusion and growing unease. The customer at the end of the line has started to join in the sing-along, his voice off-key and wavering." "The barista's eyes widen as she realizes what's happening. She turns back to you, her expression a mix of fury and terror." "This...this isn't happening," she says, shaking her head.* "She looks around the shop, as if suddenly seeing the chaos that's unfolding. The other customers are starting to murmur in alarm, backing away from the counter. The customer at the end of the line has stopped singing, looking around in confusion." "The barista takes a deep breath, her hands shaking as she reaches for the remote to shut down the espresso machine." "I'm shutting down," she announces, her voice strained.* "Everyone out. Now." "She turns back to you, her eyes blazing with anger." "And you," she says, pointing at you.* "You're going to leave. Now. Before I call the police."