#t:record scratch. freeze frame. yep that's me

[nagargent]

Julia’s standard solution to any problem she can’t immediately solve is to head straight to the library. There’s a reason they say knowledge is power, after all. Research was crucial to understanding the heart of a matter and seeking a novel solution. Today’s…. surprise, certainly counted as quite the predicament indeed. Last night she had fallen asleep in her own bed, four pillows stacked up and lilac sheets soft and comforting. Yet that wasn’t where she found herself in the first light of morning.

The room she awoke to was — she’d hate to sound judgemental but rather untidy. A chaotic mess that surely only it’s inhabitant would be able to find their way around. Stretching out and looking in the mirror, Julia saw a face that she didn’t recognise. Even this person’s bed clothes were far more vibrant and colourful than anything she’d choose to wear herself. They’d probably leave her looking washed out and exhausted, but they pop against the warm skin of whoever’s body she’d accidentally snatched. An early riser, her first instinct was to panic and run to her father who would surely know what magic caused this and how to reverse it.

At least, she hoped he would. Once she’d calmed down, Julia made her way to the library, head down in case anyone she didn’t know recognised the body she was inhabiting. That wasn’t a conversation she felt ready to have at such an early hour. Still, her trip was fruitful and she was sure that a few hours in the books would, if not lead to a solution, at least point her in the right direction. As she headed back to the girl’s room, she was greeted with a bizarre sight. Herself. Banging her fist loudly against a door in the way she would never normally. It takes her a moment to realise that it’s not really her and unless something has gone very awry (which in fairness, it already had) that the girl knocking on the door was the same girl who’s body she had woken up inside.

“Hello? Is this your room?” Julia feels her heart pounding in her chest. Or more accurately, someone else’s heart in their chest. It’s uncanny speaking to oneself, stood right in front of you and she can’t help but worry that the girl will be furious and blame her. “I'm Julia, I think we need to talk. Shall we go inside for some privacy?”

"I'd offer to shake your hand but mine are a little full at the moment. Well, they're actually your hands, sorry."

record scratch. freeze frame. yep thats me