An Out of Body Experience [Closed]

The citizens below seemed only to grow worse as Jasmine attempted to explain herself. They didn't hear a words she said, they just saw Kestrel. Terrifying, predatory, cold-hearted Kestrel.

Kestrel himself on the other hand let Jasmine see just what life was like for him for a few moments, before he spoke up, also slowing and backing off on altitude as his partner did.

"Thtop Jathmine. Jutht...thtop." Kes said finally landing on the hard ground and waiting for his partner to follow. "They won't lithen. Your not you anymore."

'They never listen. They are too afraid.' Kestrel thought to himself, trying what little he could to calm the griffon down. Would it work? Not likely. But the last thing this town needed was someone like Kes having a panic attack in its streets. He was already terrifying enough.

The mare chuckled. “Yes, Granny Bone,” she pointed at the bone shard, “has been wid me for several decades, drough her I speak wid de ancestors. It has been a closely guarded secret of my tribe for many, many years, although I have not seen many of my dem for several years.” she explained, before frowning as Zestari’s brief burst of emotion was gone. “Hmm...Me dinks you have more problems den out of place spirits child, or at least your body does.” she glanced over Zestari’s shoulder at Mona, knowingly.

“Anyway, yes, I would like to see des others. Bring me to da ‘Community Center’ so dat I can see dem with my own eyes, and let Granny Bone take a look herself. Den we can see can see if Granny Bone knows how to undo da curse dat afflicts you. Also, no, I am fine child, I can hold my own possessions.”

The mare waved a hoof, indicating for the two to lead her to the center. As they started walking, the mare turned towards her staff, raising an eyebrow at ‘Granny Bone’. “What? Oh yes, right.” she turned towards the other two again. “My apologies, I forgot until Granny Bone reminded me. You may call me Sulkah.”

As Sulkah talked about Granny bone, Zestari leaned ever closer towards the shard. Somehow hoping that if she got close enough, she too could hear the ethereal whisperings of the long departed. Only just barely listening to Sulkah as she mentioned that it was a long guarded secret from the tribe she’d not seen for years.

Zestari missed Sulkah’s implications about her emotional issues, and thought she was referring to the Zebra in a unicorn body. “We sure do have problems. I’m a zebra… Was a zebra… That’s my body…” she pointed at Mona. “And I would like it back. No offense, Mona. This body just doesn’t feel right.”

“Sulkah,” she repeated, “It’s an honour, I’m Zestari, daughter of Xinijaa. And this is my friend, Mona Tones. The mare I have been swapped with.”

Pausing just long enough to know that Sulkah was following, she started to head back in the direction Mona and herself had come from, leading Sulkah directly towards the Community Centre.

Mona was silent for the most part, an expression of confusion on her face as she tried to figure out what had just happened. To her point of view, they had passed by a Zebra talking to herself, then suddenly Zes had started speaking to them in another language which she kind of recognized as Zebrican (if just from the few times she had heard it during her caravan days...and then she was...rhyming for a moment? Normally, Mona was a fairly intelligent Mare who could deal with stuff like this fairly easily...but layers on layers of confusion sort of caused her to 'blank' for a moment, as she just tried to sort everything out, remaining silent for part of the conversation.

Eventually, she snapped out of this state though, when the older Zebra commented on her bodies lack of emotions.

"...Er...y-yeah...we need to swap back soon. I'm used to dealing with my condition, but Zestari here...Well, simply put, if you can help us, we would be incredibly grateful."

Mona would say, before following Zestari's lead and heading back to the Community Centre.

Violet trotted down Stableton’s streets, Bakewell on her back as the two searched for anything odd. Violet was wishing she had her own sight back, thinking that it would help significantly if she was using it. Bakewell had it, but she barely knew how to keep it in control enough to stop looking through pony’s skin, she wouldn’t be much help sadly and Violet kind of doubted that any quick tutoring would help in an immediate fashion.

Although she had to admit, there was one thing about normal pony vision that she liked, something she hadn’t been able to experience for years. Seeing colors! Now that she was actually taking her time to look at things she was starting to appreciate all the colors that she could finally see! True Stableton’s pallet was mostly greys and browns, but they were still colors! And even then there were still the occasional yellows and red and blues that she had missed, not to mention her own violet coat that she could see every time she turned her head.

In all the searching and the excitement of being able to see in more than two colors again, she almost forgot about something she needed to ask Bakewell. Almost.

“Uh...Hey Bakey?” she asked as she continued to trot along. “You never really answered before, but what’s wrong exactly you giggling? Well, your voice, not you right now...You know what I mean.”

The comforting feel of Violet’s muscular body beneath her own, combined with the gentle motions of the earth pony’s gait was almost enough to lull Bakewell to sleep despite her situations. It felt as though she was a filly again, riding upon her mother’s sturdy back where nothing in the world could harm her. Except in this case the mare carrying her was a fourteen year old crazy psycho filly with a love for scaring and stalking, and the body with which Violet was carrying the purple unicorn was Bakewell’s own.

The feeling of slight awkwardness from this situation, as well as the discovery that Violet was not lying and that Bakewell could in fact see through her own eyelids all the time no matter what she did (A realization that made her groan when she reached it) was enough to keep the young pony awake. For now.

Bakewell was silent for a while after Violet asked her question, and it almost seemed like the mare wasn’t going to answer at all before she finally spoke. Her words were not exactly helpful, however.

“It’s a horrible noise, and it makes me want to punch myself in the face. You hadn’t noticed that I never, ever, giggle? The closest I get is a chuckle.”

Jasmine crouched low as she landed, eyes darting left and right as a few frightened individuals dashed away. Her body almost wanted to chase them on it own, but after a few twitches she managed to plant herself in place. When she regained control she tried to follow a few ponies to stop them. She bounded left at first, then right as she stretched out a birdy hoof to try and stop somepony, anypony.

"Please! Stop I'm not going to hurt you! Don't be afraid!" Today's events were simply too much for her. She wasn't herself anymore, that much was true. She looked down at her strange hoof, looking at the talons. No pony cared who she was on the inside anymore. All they saw was a predator. A ruthless evolutionary miracle meant to do one thing and do it well- survive.

Across the street she saw somepony she thought she could recognize as one of the patrons she sung to this morning. Their eyes met, almost in slow motion he seemed to turn and run as Jas' body lept through the air to catch him. She turned his head to her as she tried to calm him down.

"Please don't run! Wait I jus-!" The stallion pushed her over and took off the other way. She laid on the earth for a moment, eyes beginning to mist over. She closed her eyes as she dug her talons in the earth.

Her eyes opened as she stared down at the ground, she huffed a few times before her hackles began to stand up. She looked back up at those running away and took a deep breath. Her anger built up in her chest, then she release all of her frustration in the loudest griffonesque roar she could manage.

Kestrel had landed a few moments after his original body had, and, instead of doing what he knew was the right thing and stopping Jasmine.

He didn't though.

No Kestrel was cold, Kestrel was cruel, Kestrel let her see just what the world thought of him; of his body, and his kind. Just after she roared with a sound so loud it shook the sheet metal of the surrounding buildings, Kestrel moved forward; swift as the wind.

A loud smack echoed from the alleyways, and the griffon-turned-pegasus stood silently for a moment, hoof still raised from where it had bashed across his true bodies face. Damn that hurt. A lot.

"You thee now? They won't lithten to you. They don't care. Your ME now. Not YOU." Kestrel said, voice so cold ice seemed to form with each breath despite his new bodies lack of intimidating features. "Come on. Leth get back to the community thenter. Maybe the otherth have found thomething uthful."

Violet frowned at Bakewell’s ‘Answer’, the filly not really buying it. Violet remembered what ‘she’ sounded like when ‘she’ giggled earlier, and it wasn’t a horrible sound. There was nothing about the sound itself that would make Bakewell hate it, so there must be something more...And Violet being the curious filly that she was, wanted to know what it was.

“Really Bakey? I mean I heard what m...Your giggling sounded like, and it didn’t sound like anything...bad. Nothing that would really make me want to kick somepony to get them to stop. I think there’s something more to it than just that Bakey. A pony wouldn’t have that sort of reaction to their own giggling just because they didn’t like the sound of it, especially since there isn’t actually anything wrong with the sound of your giggling.”

Violet the Psychologist...Imagine that. Although she did read at least one or two Psychology books when she was working at that Friendship City Clinic, so there’s that.

Bakewell frowned as Violet persisted. The unicorn had been through this routine enough times by now to tell what was going on. She stopped really looking for strange occurrences; it was a bit hard to do so when your entire field of vision was anywhere near as abnormal as hers, anyway.

“That’s you, Violet.” The filly muttered, subconsciously tightening her grip on the body beneath her. “I don’t mean any offense, but you are- I mean were- a foal. Well, maybe not quite a foal, but young. It’s okay for you to giggle. It’s cute when you giggle. “ The unicorn explained, though she was perhaps stretching the truth. Violet’s giggling had a lot of potential to be creepy, especially in certain situations. But these were not exactly things you told to an extremely strong mare that could carry you around upon her back without a second thought. A mare that could crush your body with her bare hooves, even if you knew she wouldn’t.

“I’m a large, brutish, grown mare. When ponies like me giggle, the sound is like a raider's over a fresh victim or a slaver over a particularly heartbroken new slave, or even a malevolent ghost. It’s the noise of a monster that knows it can hurt you and enjoy every second of it. I’m not sure how you can listen to it and not want to hurt yourself. I’m sure if you asked anypony else what they thought of that noise then they would give you a similar answer.”

Jasmine's face stung even under the protection of the mask. Everything seemed to go in slow motion as adrenaline surged through her body. She let out a squeak which sounded so strange to her coming from her large male body. It was almost shocking how strong her former body was; or perhaps it was Kes' brawling expertise. Her face was flung aside, her eyes fixated on the ground. Her initial instinct as to flinch, and cower. But her last year in the stable changed her. She was tired of being picked on.

Her body tensed as she coiled around and faced Kestrel. Her eyes were wide, and contacted with Kestrel. Thoughts ran through her head, her body tried to react as she thought of something to say. Jasmine steadied her breath as her body quivered. Her eyes watered slightly all the while.

"D-Don't you EVER touch me again Kestrel!"

Her head ducked slightly as she stared back at her former body. She slowly raised her head back as her eyebrows furrowed.

Violet continued to frown as Bakewell expanded upon her explanation. The comparisons she was making to her giggling...They were very specific, very dark comparisons.

“...Bakewell, that’s silly. For one thing, ghosts aren’t real. Another, you aren’t a Raider or a Slaver. You aren’t some mean angry monster that’s going to smash ponies and enjoy pounding the life out of them, I can’t even see why you’d make that comparison.” Although Violet was getting some ideas why. She knew there had to be more to this. “Also, I’ve heard slavers giggle, sometimes in the exact same situation you described. They don’t sound that much different than other ponies. Raiders do usually sound a bit different, but that’s usually after a years of chem abuse and screaming. Their vocal cords are all worn out. I’ve seen yours though, they’re perfectly fine.”

Violet was silent for a few more moments as she walked on, mind going over what to say next. Suddenly she stopped and sighed, before turning her head around towards Bakewell.

“Bakey...I know there has to be more than this. You wouldn’t be making comparisons to evil ponies if you just didn’t like the sound of your giggling. Plus I did hear the giggling when I did it, and it didn’t sound at all like you described it. In fact, I could probably do exactly what you suggested and ask somepony else what they thought, and they’d probably say that there was nothing wrong with your giggling.

Kestrel stopped walking and turned around, eyes locking on the pony in his body. Now, normally, Kestrel was a master of controlling himself, his emotions, his...well everything. But this new body, it was not his own. He was still learning it, still trying to conquer its systems.

So it should then come as no surprise, for the first time in recent memory, Kestrel got angry.

"You did NOT just give me an order." He started, eyes narrowing as he fully turned around and walked towards his form, undaunted and teeth grinding against themselves a low growl in his/her throat.

"Now you listen here kid, you may be in my body, and I may be in yours, but don't you even START to think thats reason for me to obey you. You have NO idea what I've done, the sacrifices IVE made, the stories and the reasons behind every SCAR that MY BODY has earned. Your just like the rest of these damned fools, so caught up in the delusion that you can make a difference and that life is good that you can't see that all it takes is a single slip and the world comes crashing down." Kestrel said with a lisp, growing louder by the second as his new bodies temper and emotions began to fight. His wings trembled, his body shook, but still he continued on.

"Do you know what its like Jasmine? To LOSE EVERYTHING, then finally, after sacrificing every drop of blood and sweat and patch of free flesh you have, get it back. Only to have some child threaten to tear it all away because she cant deal with the fact that people are scared of her? Because thats what your doing right now. Your threatening to tear apart the only thing I have left, everything I've worked for for the past THREE YEARS of my life. All because some ponies are running away from you." The pegasus continued lisp stronger than ever, now shouting at full volume with a blush on his/her cheeks, and eyes starting to water.

"If you keep it up, If you take away the only things I have in this world, I'm going to do far worse than just hit you. Do you understand?" the mare continued, voice low and cold; colder than ever before a single, crystalline tear coming down her cheek as she stood, right up in the masked face of the griffon-she-once-was, and glared her down.

The logical part of Kestrels mind told him he was an idiot for even daring to do something like this when his body was in the hands of another, let alone in general, but it wasn't the part Kestrel was listening too right now. Kestrel, in his new form, was being forced to listen to the hormonal brain of someone of both opposite gender and species from him.

Logic be damned.

“First off, ghosts totally do exist.” Bakewell corrected as soon as she managed to stop looking down in shock and realizing that she could see her former body’s vocal chords, or at least what she assumed a vocal cord would be, when she focused and that they were totally disgusting.

“Second, I know you don’t.” She groaned. The stress of the situations of the day were stacking with Violet pushing insistently was putting her in a foul mood where proper thought and self control were objects she was quickly losing, otherwise the unicorn would have never dared to say what came next.

“I can tell I you don’t think I’m a slaver or a raider, and I’ll be able to tell when you decide I’ve crossed that invisible line, because that morning I’ll wake up to being horribly mutilated, brutalized, tortured, and if I’m particularly lucky, eventually dead when you’re done.” The purple pony snapped, regretting the words as soon as they left her mouth for many, many reasons.

“Look, I… sorry. I’m just being stupid. I didn’t mean that. Any of it. I swear… Uh, the time sure does fly! Maybe we should be heading back to the others? It feels like we've been here for more than an hour.”

Violet rolled her eyes at Bakewell’s ghost comment, although she didn’t say anything else because it was, quite frankly, irrelevant to the current discussion.

She was about to say something else when Bakewell snapped and stabbed her in the heart with her words. The former-unicorn’s blood ran cold as Bakewell’s words rang through her head even as the mare-turned-filly profusely apologised, Violet not hearing any of it. She completely stopped, not moving, blinking, or breathing no matter what Bakewell did. She totally froze as she stood there wide-eyed, eyes staring at nothing as horror scenarios played through her head.

“Because that morning I’ll wake up to being horribly mutilated,”

Bakewell laying there on the floor of her bathroom, the mare cowering away from her approaching attacker as a knife was drawn from it’s sheath by a violet glow. “You’ve been a bad mare Bakey...”

“brutalized,”

Tears flowed from the mare’s eyes as she was surgically diced by a blood-soaked filly. The floor and the mare’s coat were stained red, while a gag was stuffed in her throat to stop her from screaming. ‘Please stop this...’

“tortured,”

Bakewell laid spread-eagle on the floor, her hooves dug into the floor with spikes as her skin was carefully removed with expert precision, while salt was poured all over the wounds. She would cry but her tears had all but dried up.

“and if I’m particularly lucky, eventually dead when you’re done.”

The filly stared at her handiwork, several hours of torturous work eventually brought to a climax with one single agonizingly cruel death. She was sure the mare had deserved it, she must of, she wouldn’t of done this otherwise. Leaving the body in the bathroom, the filly started walking away, humming to herself with a sweet smile on her face.

Back in the real world, Violet had been standing there unmoving for about a minute. Bakewell would've most likely gotten off by this point and tried to coax her friend out of whatever stupor she was in, with little success.

“I wouldn’t do that to you Bakey...” she whispered suddenly, her voice barely audible even with Bakewell right next to her.

Bakewell knew she had messed up the moment the words had gushed from her tongue. She was unable to realize exactly how badly until Violet turned into a statue. Even as the small filly called out Violet’s name and did everything in her power to snap her friend out of her suspended state she was unable to realize exactly what Violet was going through and what she was seeing, though in all honesty things were probably better that way. Care and friendship were a good deal harder to hoof out knowing that the recipient had just pictured every aspect your horrific and brutal demise by their hooves in picture perfect quality.


“Come on, Violet. Please.” She pleaded, a phrase the little pony had been repeating with increasing disparity. The unicorn had gotten off of the beige pony’s back almost a full minute ago. Upon the ground Bakewell felt as though she had tried literally everything to snap Violet from her daze, even managing to whip up enough courage to make an attempt at shoving Violet once or twice, but Bake’s large body was solid, and it would have taken much more than this weaker filly body to push the mare. By the time Violet snapped out of it, Bakewell had resigned herself to sitting and staring up into her own unfocused teal eyes with her ears held submissively back in anticipation of her punishment. The filly fought against smear of self-pity and worry plastered messily under the concern she felt for her friend. Her mood dampened even more as she struggled with one sliver that insisted on wondering “What will she do to me?” instead of “What did I do to her?”

“I wouldn’t do that to you Bakey…”

The words were quiet. So quiet that Bakewell barely managed to catch them, but their silence only served to make them hit that much harder. Loud meant anger or rage, but silence meant sadness, depression and disappointment. Bakewell would have much rathered receive an angry blow than the silent words. At least saying stupid hurtful things would be a lot harder with a broken jaw.

“I know, Vi. “ She whispered back, wrapping herself around one of the large forehooves. “I didn’t mean it. I just…”

Bake just what? There was no excuse for the mean spiteful words she had spoken, and no false reasoning would magically make them better. She was a heartless idiot, but at least she wasn’t giggling.

"Let's go back. You'd be happier with one of the others."

Violet barely heard Bakewell as her mind continued to run through dozens of horror scenarios in graphic detail, quite possibly every single way Violet could maim, mutilate, torture, and otherwise murder Bakewell. Every. Single. Way. Having a brain that was very good at processing things at lightning speeds wasn’t always a blessing. That first scenario was only a microcosm of the potential ways Violet could murder Bakewell, and with each one Bakewell’s words continued to ring through her head, with new ones fabricated by her speeding mind added to the mix.

”I can’t believe I ever was friends with a monster like you. You’re barely a pony, and not only that, you’re a crazy psychotic killer. Why don’t you go someplace far away so you can’t hurt me you freak!”

So that’s exactly what Violet was going to do.

She shrugged off her smaller body, turning away from Bakewell with head hung low and her ears drooping. “No...I’ll just go...Somewhere else...I don’t want to scare you...You’re terrified by me and that’s ok...I’m not a nice pony...I’ll go away now so you don’t have to be afraid of me anymore...”

She started to walk away, a few tears leaking out of her eyes as she did. She of course didn’t realize that she was basically walking away with Bakewell’s body but she wasn’t exactly in a very logical mindset at the moment.

“I’m sorry...”

Bakewell watched as Violet turned and started walking away, unsure what to do.

The relationship between the earth pony mare and unicorn filly had always been a bit strange. On one hoof they were friends. Heck, Bakewell had even felt a sense of motherly responsibility for the filly on occasion, doing things like trying to block the young pony’s sight when there were things Bake’s Stable pony mind told her that a filly shouldn’t be seeing. On top of that, she was a confidant. In her mind the once earth mare was one of the few, if not the only, person to really know details about Violet’s sight and slaver-hunting ways. Such trust had to mean that Bakewell was one of Violet’s closer friends, right? Maybe even the closest. And now she had obviously insulted the pony in an absolutely massive way. Also, Violet was running off to do who knows what in Bakewell’s body.

Oh the other hoof, Violet was right. Her ways and mannerisms did scare Bakewell, even if she knew how unlikely her being the subject of Violet’s fury was. There were many reasons to be terrified of the “Demon Filly”, and they were unquestionably hidden in the back of Bakewell’s mind. Was this not what she wanted? To be safe and not have to worry about waking up with her organs hanging from the ceiling by meat hooks when she inevitably messed up in the wrong way?

As her freakish glowing eyes stared after the slowly retreating form, she saw things not in x-ray vi-vision, but in perfect color. The retreating form wasn’t a large beige body that she hated, but rather the unique small purple filly that Violet had always been until today. She saw the almost constantly cheerful little girl who, as far as Bakewell could tell, never ever cried. She was crying now, Bakewell could feel the teardrops on Violet’s whispered words. She was finally crying and it was all Bakewell’s fault.

No, this was not what she wanted. In a single smooth and barely conscious motion, Bakewell rushed forwards and leapt with Violet’s agile body, catching onto the younger-older mare’s back leg as she walked and promptly positioning herself so that the horn on Violet's body would lightly jab Violet with every further step she took. Bakewell might not know how to use magic, but a stabby forehead growth was a stabby forehead growth no matter how you looked at it, and wasn’t too hard to use.

“You’re not going anywhere alone.” She said, mind racing. What did Violet need? Friendship? A display of trust? Both?

“Hey, Vi. I found this super cool pre-war bakery about a day or two’s trot away!” She started blathering. Not sure of what she was saying, but also not caring so long as it wasn’t something hurtful. “I figured there were probably raiders or something inside, so I didn’t get too close. But maybe there’s some in-tact flour in there. Maybe, when this whole body thing is over, we can check it out? And then we can come back and I can teach you how to make a cake. And… and Scrap’s out of town for a few weeks, I think. So we could have a sleepover. You know, tell each other scary stories and have pillow fights and everything? We would have to share the same bed, but I don’t mind…” She said, starting with a forced excitement that slowly dwindled down when her brain caught up to her words. The filly felt stupid and self-conscious for suggesting it. Violet wouldn’t want to hear about some sort of stupid thing like that.

“I’m so sorry…”

Jasmine held her tone as she peered at the mare staring her down. Every part of her mind told her this was a bad idea. She watched the tiny pegasus argue, never really realizing just how intimidating her own body could appear.

"Kestrel, I am no child! I am a mare of twenty three years and I will tell you not to touch me all I want you mare-hitting bruit! I don't care how dark and mysterious your past is, you have no right to hit me!"

Jasmine's feathers all stood on end, she found herself flinching fearing being hit again. Deep down buried beneath her rage a feeling of vulnerability welled up inside which she despised. Being struck, and by her hero no less. All of this seemed so wrong, almost like a dream. Jas trembled as she stood towering over the smaller mare-turned-griffin.

"Kestrel all of these town ponies may be afraid of you, but I will take no abuse from a male oppressor like yourself! Do you hear me? I'm afraid of you now Kestrel, but I'm not acting on that fear! You're not my hero anymore Kestrel! I'm going to be my own hero from now on. I may not have gone through what you have, but my sister is missing, mom ran away to ten pony just a few days ago, and for the last year I watched my friends and family murder each other in the stable. But it will be a cold day in Equestria when I let that dictate who I am!"

Jasmine huffed once before continuing. "I don't know what I did to offend you Kestrel, and frankly I wont make that excuse for you. You can't boss me around anymore! I'm a big strong griffin, and you're... You're just a little weak pegasus!" Jasmine's eyes opened at the mention of that last part. Her gaze shifted to the front of her mind.

Kestrel seemed, as always, undeterred by the argument against him. That final statement though...it seemed to do something to him. A rage so molten the fires of Celestia's sun paled in comparison welling up in his eyes.

"Weak Little Pegasus? Look at what your saying Jasmine, it only proves how childish, naive, and a foolish you are. Fate decides to switch us and now, because you have a body capable of standing up for itself, everything is going to get better? Your going to take MY body, the one I was born with and have honed into what it is, and make yourself a HERO?" Kestrel asked, half-yelling half spitting in disgust.

"And do you honestly think I give a DAMN what gender you are? That I'm some kind of sexist bigot? I've done far worse than just HIT females, but I've NEVER disrespected them or judged them on grounds of what gender they are. I don't care about that. I don't judge on that. I judge by actions, and by observations. And right now your acting high and mighty because of MY body, not because you are actually superior. Open your eyes and you might see that, MY bodies perception should let you notice it." Kestrel continued, not backing down for a moment. The feathers on his wings were now totally bristled up.

"And your right, you don't know a thing about my past, and by the spirits of my ancestors I pray you never will. You say Blue's missing, and your mother ran away? Then why were you here Jasmine? Why did you stay here and not go hunting them down yourself? Where was this so called strength you have now, then?" Kestrel asked letting the question hang on the air for a moment before finishing up his part of the argument with a single, nigh-heartless statement.

"You're not strong, you're just as weak as ever. A new body isn't going to change a damn thing about that."

Jasmine shrieked back at Kestrel as tears flowed down her face.


"I'VE TRIED LOOKING FOR THEM KESTREL! I have been trying but I couldn't find them no matter how hard I looked. It's hard to find someone that you don't have a lead on. And so what? Maybe I am weak, maybe I'm used to being in my old body which I miss immensely right now." Jasmine began to notice just how quiet the surrounding world seemed to her as she stopped to take a breath. Kes was right, she should be trying harder to find Starry. Looking back she did try what she could to find her sister but there was always an area that she could have improved in. She did try, but she could have searched harder or longer despite not having any clue to her whereabouts. Somewhere her sister was probably dead and it was all her fault, she would have to live with the guilt of losing her.

Jas trailed off as her mind returned to Starry for a moment. She passed the thought as she returned back to Kestrel. "And if you judge by actions, then how about actually telling me what I did wrong to hurt you instead of hitting me. Its unfair to hold me to a standard that I don't know exists Kestrel. I'm scared and angry and you bring out your past as a shield, an excuse! That's weakness if you ask me Kestrel- I try my best to rise above my past. You may be physically stronger Kestrel than I am, and you're right this body wont make me a better individual. But I'll never stop trying to be one... And I'm sorry, I don't know where that weak little pegasus comment came from..."

Kestrel seemed to calm down a bit as Jasmine finally stopped her yelling, his/her feathers laying back and smoothing out; though he still wore a grimace that could sour any situation. As always, when he spoke next, his lisp was made apparent. "First, you went and had a panic attack just because ponies weren't lining up to say hello. That's something I get to deal with after all this is over." He started, eyes glancing around as if to see just who he'd have to...silence should rumors start.

"Then you rushed a pony, still not listening to what I told you earlier. Normally I could control my urges, but this body of yours is hormonal...alien and beyond my control in some ways. I hit you before I even thought about it." The pegasus formed griff explained. It was a poor excuse, but it held more truth than lie. The logical part of his mind finally taking over again, the griffon decided to ignore the comment about his weakness in dealing with the past, and the im not letting it hold me back speech. Jasmine had no idea just what he'd been through, how much he'd suffered, how empty and cold he really was because of what happened.

How true and painful her words were to Kes.

He knew he was weak. His mask, and a few other items were there to remind him of that everyday. Dropping his tone Kestrel turned away already moving away again. Lisping out a final, quiet statement.

"We are not getting anything done by yelling at eachother. Let's just get back to the community center. Maybe the others have found something."

...A bleeding beige body hanging from a rusty hook...

...A screaming mare as her leg was removed by a red-stained bonesaw...

...A decapitated head skewered through a pike, the fur as red as the band around its hair...

Violet’s mind continued to go through horrible scene after horrible scene, as her mind couldn’t help but vividly imagine every single bloody and gruesome way she could kill Bakewell. Each step was a shuddering one as her mind bared the unimaginable torture it was putting itself through.

After what felt like ages for the filly-turned-mare, although in reality only a minute, she vaguely felt something grab her leg and start poking it with each step, although only barely, her mind too far into the visions to make a significant notice of her presence....Until it started talking...

...A heart, ripped out of i- “You’re not going anywhere alone.” ‘...What?’

Violet’s entire body froze again, literally stopping mid step. Slowly, shuddering, her head turned around to face the offending object...And saw Bakewell hugging her rear leg while going on about a sleepover and cakes.

‘...Bakey?’

Her mind grinded to a screeching halt, the visions halting as she tried to process what she was seeing. Why did Bakewell follow her like this? She should be terrified of the her and do her best to just try to stay far away, that’s what should have happened. But that’s not what happened, she was here, and Violet’s jumbled, confused mind was trying to figure out why.

“I’m so sorry...” said the filly on her leg, and suddenly it all became clear.

‘She’s not afraid...She doesn’t want me gone...’

Violet remained frozen for several more seconds, before she whirled around, Bakewell being forced off her leg. She suddenly embraced the filly in a giant bear hug, although somehow she had enough of her faculties not to crush her.

“You don’t need to be sorry Bakey...You don’t need to be sorry...” more tears were flowing from Violet’s eyes, freely. “I’m a bad pony Bakey...I hurt and kill other ponies...You’re right to be afraid of me...But I’d never hurt you Bakey...Never you...You’re one of my...My only...” she choked up, her face stained with her tears.

Zestari was generally uncharacteristically quiet leading Sulkah back towards the community Centre. Personally she put it down to being in the presence of a truly wise and awe inspiring zebra, but it could have been the emotion stealing aspect of the body, too; somehow muting her desire to talk as much as it did her emotions.

Still, she didn’t want their walk back to be a silent and boring affair, so after settling her eyes upon Mona in her striped zebra body, a question slowly rose up.

“Mona, how do you find being in my body, does being a zebra feel much different to being a unicorn? Also, how does it feel to be able to express yourself unimpeded? I mean, I must confess, this… emotional prison is causing me much trouble.”

Bakewell tightened her grip around the leg when Violet froze for a second time. The filly wrapped all four hooves around the limb and held on. Held on as though she was dangling over a swirling sea and that one sturdy beige limb was her only chance at ever seeing the shore again.

The unicorn let out a startled cry as she was forced from Violet’s leg and brought into a tight hug, which she all too happily returned as she briefly wondered if this piggish crying face was what others saw the times she had broken down prior. This train of thought was forced to leave the station almost immediately after docking. Violet needed Bakewell to fix the stupid mistake the once-earth mare had caused. That was more important than her daily dose of self-hate.

“Shhhh.” The filly shushed gently, her small purple hoof rubbing the fur alongside Violet’s neck in as comforting an action as she could manage. “It’s okay, I know you’d never hurt me. I never thought you would. Not really.” She kinda-sorta-not-really-lied for the sake of Violet’s happiness, convincing the raider hunter that she wasn’t a bad pony was going to be much harder. How did you explain this sort of thing? Violet regularly caused horrific things that didn’t fall within a thousand miles of ‘Good Pony’, but at the same time she wasn’t bad. Even if it didn’t make much rational sense Bakewell knew the pony's goodness somewhere deep within her heart, which, as an aside, she could currently see beating inside her old body’s chest. Ick, gotta get used to toning down the eyes...

“Think of how many ponies are safe out there because of what you’ve done. Would they think you’re bad?” She eventually settled on what she hoped were the right words. “Think of how many lives you kept from slavery, or from tearing apart some helpless foal. You’re different, not evil. What about just now? You were just trying to hurt yourself because you thought it would make me happier. And don’t say it didn’t hurt, Violet. I know it hurt.”

Bakewell wondered how odd the scene must look to any pony in passing. A young purple unicorn hugging and comforting a crying, thuggishly large earth pony mare. It had to either look heartwarming or absolutely pathetic. Maybe both. Didn’t matter. Who cares what the other ponies thought? They weren’t Violet. Violet was all that should matter right now. Anything and everything to repair the damage. Make her happy again.

“I love you, Violet.” Bakewell whispered as she continued to hug, after a few seconds she seemed to realize that perhaps that could be taken the wrong, very creepy way and added an explanation, thankful that purple was probably pretty handy at hiding an embarrassed blush. “Wait, that’s not what I meant at all. I mean- Um. I love you like a family. You’re the little foal I’ll never have. And I don’t care if you’re not perfect, or that sometimes you’re scary, or that your eyes glow, or that you have… you know what, or that you kinda disappear for large periods of time and I have no idea where you’ve gone or what you’re doing. Or even that you’ll probably never see me in a similar way. That’s all fine. But please, don’t ever. Ever. Think that I hate you. I’ll never want you to leave, and I'll never ever ever try to kick you out of my life. Not like the ponies in Friendship.”