And suddenly, the God was as They used to be; Powerless — a drifter, an outcast. Nowhere to stay, nowhere to belong. Once again, They were alone. A stranger to all who passed, sparing naught but a glance to the God, the same who would perform day after day. An audience for Their performances — none granting the God the mirthful experience of a friend.
* Aha's masks are just that — masks. But I like to think that Their voice[s] come from Their mask[s].
* If multiple masks are present, then Their voice overlaps and becomes chaotic; discordant. Each masks face reflects Their tone.