Vezzimovayoemd Ntualferm

Well that was a weird. Do you ever find yourself totally absorbed with a book or movie? Like what your watching is so interesting and immersive that you almost forget you’re there watching it? That was what this was like, but I wasn’t exactly immersed, more like I was engulfed.

By the time I realized there was something… else in my head it had basically already taken charge. I experienced everything through the lens of this other person’s understanding of the world. For example, when I heard ‘Olsen’ I could tell it was my name. I’ve never even met an Olsen. Looking around, it wasn’t strange to see a large fluffy bed and a room which looked like a museum diorama. In fact I barely even registered them. Instead, this other person was focused on the other people in the room so I was focused there too. Then without warning again, I felt ‘Olsen’ fade and we fell back into the bed. I can think thoughts of my own now, but I’m also back to my senses feeling strange and new.

Ok, new theory, I’m in someone else’s head, I have agency when the owner of this body is unconscious, and my own body is probably very dead at the moment wherever it is. It’s as if my mind has been added into the body of someone else. That would explain the weird tasting spit and why everything feels so weird and new. It also explains why everything feels normal when Olsen is awake. At that point I’m no longer fumbling at the helm. Instead an experienced pilot is at the controls, one who has grown up with this body since birth.

That’s assuming a lot for now and there’s even more about my situation that I don’t know. Foremost among my concerns is whether I can control this body. Earlier I was able to calm my breathing which is a good sign, but if that’s all I can do while this Olsen is asleep I’ll be in for a very boring existence.

In that case I should try to move, but is that a good idea with these two in the room? I strongly doubt I could pass for Olsen given how little I know about the guy. It might be best to wait until they’re gone and I can experiment in peace. That said, Olsen was pretty convinced that Tooktooth guy had been with him for his whole nap, who knows when I’ll next be left alone. Plus what if Olsen wakes up again and I’m stuck waiting for him to pass out. If they ‘cure’ his headache and delete me in the process, that would be bad too. I’d rather act than be acted on anyway, so I’ll talk to these two and see if they can help me. I am in their ‘prince’s’ body after all, so hopefully they’ll be understanding.

I try to open my eyes and, hooray! My eyelids comply enthusiastically, no questions asked. The sight that greets me is incredible. I stare at the wooden ceiling in amazement. The grain in the wood, the large metal fasteners embedded in various places. All of it I witness in perfect detail, the way the beams join together, faint saw marks, evidence that-

Nonononono. Hang on, why is the celling such a mind boggler? Weird smells and tastes, sure. But I don’t think I’ll be making it far in life if a roof is all it takes to blow my mind. What is so cool and special about looking at wood? Was I blind in my past life? Hmm, maybe not blind, but I’ll bet these eyes are better than average. Anyway, it’ll take some getting used to, all I can say for now is that it’s hard to look this good ;)

Time to try moving. I gingerly begin to sit up in my bed and find it easier than usual. My body, Olsen’s body, rather, is either stronger, than my previous build, smaller than it, or both. Two large windows bring afternoon light in from abutting walls; they illuminate what could be a private collector’s room full of old timey furniture, clothing, various trinkets, and curious items. Intricately built wardrobes and a desk, complicated mesh balls full of what looks like filamentous metal string, a nest with eggs and feathers inside near the window, even what looks like a suit of armor and a wooden sword lying in a pile. Nothing looks antique per say, in fact, everything here strikes me as almost new. Everything looks like it ought to have been made long ago but wasn’t.

I pry myself away from my surroundings, I probably shouldn’t freak my audience out more than I’ll have to. Ogling what are probably my own belongings isn’t exactly a great start. Turning to them I can already tell they think something’s up. The geezer’s spectacle-enhanced eyes are watching me closely. I look at him but something about my reaction to his face takes him a moment to register. He looks on, not saying anything for the time being. Olsen’s sister, Iris I think I said, is now sitting beside the magician, she looks curious, worried, and absolutely beautiful. Her tousled blonde hair, recently let down, contrasts tragically with the funeral gown she still wears. Her face is that of someone young, maybe 16 or 17, but her sky blue eyes are sharp displaying wit and maturity. As she watches my gaze a mix of complicated emotions cross her face all at once. Her body language becomes less comfortable, ready to take action. She opens her mouth to say something but thinks better of it for some reason. They are waiting for me to talk. I gather my wits and try to speak with a calm and controlled voice:

“Hello. I’m sorry to say this, but at the moment I’m not your brother. My mind, at least, isn’t. For some reason, which I myself do not understand, I seem to have entered Olsen’s mind and I have gained the ability to use it when your brother is not conscious. I have no idea how this happened, however, my mind is that of a human and I have no desire to harm this man. If you know of any possible methods, by which my mind could be transferred to another body, perhaps to someone who has been sentenced to death through your legal system, I would be more than willing to cooperate.”

Tooksmith, “Ju ahaom dyamhuretf zalud.”

Iris, "O mer oy juat. Naf yjod od. Rjay ru fe? Vasz ju od."

Tooksmith, "Mer joz dsuuq fuuqsp O ross zalu. Umeihj O duu, qeyoemd O zidy vessuvy!”

Me, "Oh Fuck"