𝕳𝖎𝖘 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝕯𝖎𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖑𝖔

                                    

                                          
Your body screamed at you, while you watched in part horror and part shock, unable to even begin to tell them to calm down.
                          
"Ridammi il mio corpo! Cosa hai fatto al mio corpo?"
                          
You shouted at - no; your body screamed at you in Italian as it brashly pulled on your masculine arm as if they had been robbed of their purse.
                          
"Tch! Hey! Stop fucking hurting me!" you spat out at the person in your new voice that took you by surprise, and a little by discomfort. "I didn't do anything, can you just stop for one second?!"
                          
"Turista?!" he exclaimed through your body. "Are you a witch? Give me back my body, you witch!"
                          
"I'm not a witch," you spoke again. "And first of all, can you not scream? Just calm down and let me think..."
                          
"Calm down? How? For what? You stole my body and-"
                          
"Okay, sir, I did not steal your body; we seem to have exchanged bodies, to be exact. I don't know how, but..."
                          
"Come si può essere così calmo a questo proposito? Noi stiamo per morire? Oddio..."
                          
As you looked around, witnessing other organisms of almost all kinds acting bizarrely with the chaos growing rampant, you stood still to think for a bit, attempting to analyze the situation at hand. The man you had exchanged bodies with somehow continued to ramble anxiously in Italian while you scanned the street for clues as to what exactly had led you and everyone else to this state; not that you had absolutely no idea of it, though.
                          
Had you not known about stands, had you not been a stand user, and had you not witnessed the extreme example of bizarre that your boss was, you would have been just as equally astounded at your state as the man next to you was in your body. Without a doubt, this was the work of a stand - could there even be another explanation? What kind of stand was it? Who was the user? What was its range? How would you find it?
                          
"Hell's Bell," you called out your stand which materialized and began floating next to you, making you glad about the fact that at least your abilities were intact despite the switch of bodies.
                          
"Who are you even talking to?" your voice called you from the side. You turned around and grabbed your body by the shirt, pulled its face close, and sternly stared into its eyes.
                          
"Stay next to me, do you get me?" you commanded. "Don't you dare to leave my sight."
                          
"Woman, hey! Hey! Ma dai -"
                          
With your new arm, you reached under the shirt your original body was wearing and pulled out the firearm from the holster underneath. Without a moment of delay, before he could say another word, you pulled on the hammer of the gun and pressed it against the chest in between its breasts, causing him to flinch for a second, followed by frowning at you.
                          
"What?" you grunted.
                          
"I... know... this is your body, but please don't touch me like that, it feels awk- Ow!"
                          
It felt odd to be throwing a slap at your own face and seeing it whimper in pain. Nonetheless, despite the annoying attitude of the man inside, he was right. It was your body and you had to be sure of what you would do to it wouldn't leave permanent effects. What were the consequences of this stand effect going to be, should one hurt their own body? Who would be the one to die? Would you then get stuck in the same body forever?
                          
'This is some Freaky Friday shit going on.'
                          
"Er... E-either way, just stick around with me," you took away the gun and relaxed. "I don't want anything to happen to my body. What's the time?"