always and forever is forever young
your shadow on the pavement, the dark side of the sun
It was like being stuck inside a nightmare. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think he was dreaming. One really long, really fucking weird dream.

The sensation of being inside his own body, with somebody else also inside and controlling it, was difficult to describe. On one level, Mallos could still feel himself as he normally did. He still felt his arms and legs and everything which he (Thyri?) touched, but he couldn’t move them… it was like being paralysed all over. Or, more accurately, like he was paralysed all over and someone had hooked him up to crossed slats of wood with some string, and was now making him dance like a puppet. Or, if his body was like a ship and he was the captain, it was like being separated from the controls by a sheet of glass. He could see someone else manning the helm and could feel the movements of the ship, but he was helpless to do anything but watch.

On a different level, simultaneously, he was deeper inside of himself than he’d ever been and detached from what was going on outside. Thryi was at the surface, controlling the exterior, while he had been pushed to the very bottom of a pit from which he couldn’t possibly climb out of. In the pit he had television screens showing what she could see, but he couldn’t do anything but watch. He was one removed; he could see, feel, hear, taste and smell, but his senses were muted and his ability to respond to them void.

And that array of metaphors and similes was less confusing than how it actually felt.

Of course, when she initially pressed against his mind, Mallos ignored her. Ignoring was a sound strategy when the other person didn’t know you were there and you were as yet decided whether to inform them as such. Thyri seemed pretty confident that he had been compressed inside his own body instead of magically transported out of it, but she wouldn’t know the extent to which he could understand what was happening to him or if he could even respond. Honestly, Mallos didn’t know either. This was the first time Omni had ever granted him clarity of vision when he was possessed – a mystery to which Thyri quickly provided the answer. Apparently, she was supposed to teach him a lesson about vanity.

Right, sure. As if he needed that.

Thus far, Mallos had predominantly lain dormant deep inside of himself, silently observing the choices Thyri made with his body without responding to them or interacting with her. When she mentioned visiting his family, he stirred a little for the first time. Mallos had never met Thyri before, and couldn’t access her thoughts or memories even now – he had no idea what ulterior motives she might have for wanting to see his family, or what she might do when she found them. It wasn’t enough to assume she was intelligent and thus wouldn’t touch a god’s possessions; mortals had become drunk fools on divine power before. He said nothing, but paid closer attention to the screens as she minced up to the castle guard and probed him for directions to the king. Oddly enough, that gave him a flare of hope. Arthur had diplomatic training and would be able to recognise when he wasn’t being himself, and he was one of the few people who had met Gwythr’s version of Mallos. Arthur would know it wasn’t him. Thyri probably wouldn’t even have to say anything – she’d just walk in doing her stupid girly walk, and Arthur would ask her name right away.

It… didn’t quite go down like that. If the Spaniard had been in control of his own body, or even witnessing these events happening to someone else, he would have undoubtedly found them hilarious. Someday, he might still dredge the memory out and be able to formulate a private joke from it but right now the unfolding proceedings were all-consuming.

When Thyri stepped back out of the room, there was a spell of quiet which allowed Mallos to process what had just happened. Yes, alright, Arthur hadn’t recognised it wasn’t him – but he was a little preoccupied at the time. Once he came in here, he’d know.

Seriously. Nobody could think that anyone who lounged like that was really him, even if they did have his face.

Or… not.

Come on, Frustration welled up inside him. Was he just playing along? To what end? Whatever the reason, Mallos hoped it was true. That was nicer to believe than the idea that he’d made friends with a moron. It only got worse from there. When Thyri rested his hand on Arthur’s knee, Mallos stirred again, more noticeably than before.

“¡Eh!” He spoke (thought?) sharply, projecting himself into Thyri’s (his?) headspace. If she heard him, she didn’t let it stop her. Had he been in control of his own body, Mallos would have felt his jaw go slack with what happened next. “¡Ay de mí! You’ll ruin my life!”

Ordinarily, Mallos would have continued on that melodramatic vein for some time, but he rather uncharacteristically cut off prematurely to try something more pragmatic. Summoning every ounce of willpower and determination he possessed, he concentrated his energy on pulling back. Mastering telepathy from a young age had taught Mallos long ago that even seemingly simple psychic powers were not limited to observation only – there was always some degree of inception. He had no idea what power he had over his own body still, but if he could feel what was happening, then he must be connected enough to be able to send some of that feeling back. A door, once opened, could be walked through both ways. In theory.

i can feel you in the silence saying, “let forever be,
love, and only love, will set you free.”