“Yeah, of course, Diego. Jesus, relax! I know I still haven’t gotten back at you from the time you glued my ass to the dining room chair, but this isn’t the time to fuck you up, okay? I’m serious.”
Restless hands clap with glee when he’s finally given the green light, and he leaps from his chair, tumbling forward until he’s on his knees, sitting mere inches from his brother. He holds out a hand, furrows his brow, and patiently waits for a moment until he feels the gentle lull of his powers, like an engine revving up. When he opens his eyes, he’s pleased to see his fingertips radiating with that familiar blue tinge. It’s showtime, baby!
“Okay, it’s gonna feel weird, don’t freak out, just trust me, ‘kay?” He resists the urge to chime in with a that’s what she said joke and focuses instead on the task at hand.
The first step is easy enough— with his bare feet planted firmly on the ground, he can push himself out of his body with minimal resistance. It’s a stern push at first, followed by a gentle floating, as he lifts up through the top of his skull. The harder part is getting inside his brother (ew, even in his head that sounds awful, he’ll admit), but after a moment of hovering, he’s able to get his bearings, and will himself over to where Diego is sitting.
Then, all at once, he dives in through the top of Diego’s head, allowing himself to tumble and fall until he’s finally anchored by the distinctly heavy weight of a body. For a moment, everything is black, all he can feel is the thunderous beating of a heart. Then, ever so slowly, the haze melts away and he’s able to open his eyes— Diego’s eyes— only to see his own body sitting there on the floor in a seemingly peaceful meditation. It’s like something straight out of a horror movie, but before he can even process the true strangeness of the situation, he clutches the chair and furrows his brow, as he searches for some sign of his brother.
“Hey, Diego?” He hears Diego’s voice call out. “You alright, buddy? Still with me?”
AT FIRST , he’s anxious as he watches that blue coloring come over his brother. but , there’s a calm that comes over him at the simple fact that if anyone was going to hurt him , it wasn’t klaus. he trusts his brother ----- knows this isn’t a game to him. not after everything they’ve been through. as he truly observes him , he actually feels . . . PROUD.
but then , for the first bit , everything’s dark & cold & . . . crowded. it’s that weird in-between sleep & wake place that he spends too much time in. it’s hard to pull himself from that unconscious state , but hearing his own voice without speaking helps. I’M HERE ---- he can’t make his body speak , but he can think. it’s strange & uncomfortable to not be in control of his body -- his temple. with a bit of strain , he’s able to clench his fist -- testing the limits of this whole possession thing. it uses too much energy , though , so he relaxes & simply watches.
YOU CAN’T LIKE ---- GO THROUGH MY THOUGHTS , CAN YOU ? the idea of klaus seeing too much of his brain was unsettling. then again , at least he didn’t have luthers thoughts.
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