Batt recoils quite a bit from the punch (they are rather physically weak), but gets back to posture rather quickly. She seems very relieved that Doom isn’t mad at them. They dust off their shoulder, take a breath, and speak.
“I’ll take you one question at a time, aight? First: what did I do? Was just a spell with an oddly convenient ‘downside’. You can thank uhhh…” They flip to a specific page in the book, and read the name off it. “You can thank Grefflob the Wise for that spell. Next, how did I? I casted it and it used the components. Dunno what you’d expect.”
At this point, Batt starts thinking about something. A few things, actually.
“Sure it feels good after however long, like 30 years? Average curse length is usually like 15, but you seem like you’ve had it for a while, sooo, 30’s my guess. Either way, anything you wanna test? You’re not gonna get much from ectoplasmic apples.”
Batt then waggles their finger at Doom.
“And remember! Only go hurting people if you mean it! Your counterpart will know when you do! And also they’ll know that I cast this. You’ve gotta have my back for that too, I don’t think I could take anyone in a fight, nevermind a version of you.”
There’s a swell of emotion that runs through Doom upon actually being able to make physical contact with someone she meant to harm - at least, she thought very hard about actually punching Batt hard enough to hurt them, for no other reason than to test out the spell as they had instructed. Now she feels a sense of elation, and also vulnerability. She can hurt people now. Actually, really hurt them. And now that she can, will she actually do it? Even she doesn’t know right at that moment.
“Well I was expecting to diffuse painfully, if I’m honest, since that’s what was sold to me. But seeing as I’m still here…” she retorts, but not in an entirely unfriendly manner. There’s more snark than bite to it. “I honestly don’t know how long I’ve been like this,” she says, gesturing to herself. “I’ve lost track of time and such things.”
She looks down at the apple she dropped onto the floor and shrugs. “I spawn in food for people all the time that tastes fine, so it must be a me thing. Wonderful. But alas. Ummm. Being able to see things and hear things again is… it’s honestly a bit disorienting,” she says, emphasizing this by rubbing needlessly at her eye sockets. Of course that’s not going to help anything, but she does it without thinking.
Then she sighs, thinking about how now there are some people she desperately wants revenge against, and one of them for sure Thursday would know if Doom hurt and Doom would never hear the end of it. Suppose that’s something she’ll have to live with, if the asshole ever steps out of line again, that is.
“Yeah, yeah,” she mumbles a bit, knowing now she’ll have to be more careful around others. “You don’t have to worry about my counterpart. She’s a pushover. A doormat. The biggest doormat I’ve ever known, actually. You could kill someone right in front of her she’ll forgive you. Hell, you could kill her and she’ll forgive you. She doesn’t even really know you exist either, so it’s all good. As far as she or anyone else knows, this just happened through sheer willpower.”
She shuffles around for a minute, despawning the apple and coaxing the other souls back into her. Most of them bond again with her, although some are more hesitant than others. The short-haired Thursday is the one who hesitates the longest, though.
“Come on, Next, I’m sorry. I won’t do anything like that again,” Doom says to the soul.
Next folds her arms and gives her a hard glare. “All right…” is all she says, as if she she doesn’t believe the Reaper. In the end, she merges back with her anyway.
She fidgets around for a little bit longer before sighing and saying to Batt, “And- thanks, I guess. I mean, thank you. I don’t know if this will fix anything, but… I guess I just have to try.”
