Batt, Jet-Set Sorceress

"But that's not to say that- huh? Oh, shiiiiit! Look at THIS! It's like, proper sized and everything. It's shiny, it's green, it's... fuuuuck, this is a beaut! Thanks a million, mate! Hooly shit."

They're just holding it in their hand, spinning it around to look at the entire handle. They seem enthralled with it. They're turning it back and forth, looking at every inch in awe.

She's immensely pleased they like her gift, though. It's nothing compared to the gift they gave her, but, like the banana pie, it's something. She'll continue giving things to Batt for as long as she can, something, anything to show her gratitude for giving her her life back, as close as she can ever get to it.

"No one's gonna mess with you with that thing, ehehe. Although they shouldn't mess with you anyway, not with all that sorcery you can do. And hey, if you don't have anyone to swing it at, you can always use it as a golf club. It works, in a way. Also good for cutting hair."

At the mention of going to rob someplace, Doom immediately forgets about the pie and stands up. "Hell yeah! You know my personal favorite place to rob is Amazon. You know, like Amazon warehouses. You know what those are? They're full of stuff. So much stuff- You have no idea. I like to break in, scare off all the employees, and then surround the building with a wall of flames to keep people out. I mean, I'm not there to harm some random warehouse workers, you know? Maybe upper management if I hear any whispers first, but the little guys? Nah. But if you have somewhere else you can think of, we can rip them off instead, hehehe."

They seem very excited at Doom's offer. It's been ages since they've done something fun like that with a good friend. She responds excitedly.

"Oh, fuck yeah! I'm so down to rob a warehouse. I think I robbed one of those at some point- good, morally correct fun. As moral as it can be, at least. But fuck yeah, I'm down."

"Always imagined you'd be doing the same kind of stuff that I do, to be honest. I vibe with you a hell of a lot, frankly. The whole ghost-y look, the cool hair, the scythe... fuck yeah. I wish I could look that cool sometimes."

They take a bite of their pie, and as they had hoped, it tastes leagues better than it looks. They take another bite quickly and excitedly.

"Mmm.. oh, the cauldron? It's- one moment."

They swallow the food in their mouth.

She feels instant relief when they don't immediately spit it out or make any disgusted expressions at the taste. Her eye sockets glow a bit brighter in her relief. "Pfft, you could look this cool. Very easily. All you have to do is die a horrible, excruciatingly painful death and then have your soul digested and broken down into an extraterrestrial energy soup," she says, grinning as if it wasn't the most horrible, excruciatingly painful thing that's ever happened to her that left her soul destroyed and unable to experience her senses, sleep, dream, or move on into the afterlife. "As for the scythe, well-"

The ghost spawns one in, adorned in the same symbols and colors as Batt's skateboard. She hands it over.

"I don't think you'll be able to take anyone's soul with it, but it'll probably kill them, yeah," she says casually while taking another bite of her pile of pie.

Batt's potion is more interesting than scythes to Doom. Grinning, she says, "Tell me you're gonna throw some of that at someone. You're gonna throw some of it at someone, aren't you? We should dump it all on Cyrus' head! Ahahahaha! Turn him blood red or neon green or something. But I mean, changing your clothes is cool too, ehehe. Personally I think people underestimate the raggedy look." Of course, there's a certain irony with these words being spoken from someone wearing a pristine pinstriped suit. "If you want new clothes, we could always just go rob a store. I'm always down for that."

"But that's not to say that- huh? Oh, shiiiiit! Look at THIS! It's like, proper sized and everything. It's shiny, it's green, it's... fuuuuck, this is a beaut! Thanks a million, mate! Hooly shit."

They're just holding it in their hand, spinning it around to look at the entire handle. They seem enthralled with it. They're turning it back and forth, looking at every inch in awe.

She's definitely in better spirits since she last saw her friend. Ever since gaining some of her senses back, she's gone to town, eating a lot of food just to taste it, playing in the rain because she can feel it, listening to music obnoxiously loud because she can hear it, and, of course, killing people.

She has three victims so far - not ones she's would consider "victims" seeing as they victimized her first, but in the eyes of the law, yes, victims - two of whom are a direct result of being able to hurt people again. The first one technically took place before that, when she could only hurt someone if Thursday herself was pissed off enough at them, which she was.

Regardless, she feels more satisfied than she has in a long time and feels she is past due for thanking Batt for helping her instead of killing her like she asked for her to do.

"Heyyyyy, how's it going? Whatcha up to? Skating around?" she greets happily, then suddenly changes directions. "Hey! I made a banana cream pie! Would you like some?"

@the-haunted-office

Batt is skating around the office. She's zipping and zooping here to there to there to here, back and forth. When she sees Doom pop in from the ceiling, she smiles, stops skating for a bit, and sits down in one of the office chairs (that is also directly next to a cauldron).

"Yo! It's been pretty good! Just been making sure that this place stays a bit interesting, you know? And sure! It's been ages since I've had a pie. Sounds great!"

The ghost grins, "Oh yeah, that's my job too, you know. Keeping this place interesting. Otherwise it's really boring. Nothing to do, everything's already been seen, people are terribly stupid and/or predictable. The most exciting things that happen are always dangerous to living people. Pfft." She waves a hand like she's waving away the terribly stupid and/or predictable people. Then she digs out a slice of pie for herself.

"Always imagined you'd be doing the same kind of stuff that I do, to be honest. I vibe with you a hell of a lot, frankly. The whole ghost-y look, the cool hair, the scythe... fuck yeah. I wish I could look that cool sometimes."

They take a bite of their pie, and as they had hoped, it tastes leagues better than it looks. They take another bite quickly and excitedly.

"Mmm.. oh, the cauldron? It's- one moment."

They swallow the food in their mouth.

"So everything inside me is just cat organs and such now? And my brain is running off a cat's brain? I dunno how a cat would have such comprehensive thoughts, but you know what? I'm kinda glad they do. I'd hate to just be stuck with instincts of a cat only."

"I'm not feeling super hungry, but still a rabbit looked very... appetizing. It was weird! And I'm not gonna think too much about the libido thing. Maybe that'll keep it away, y'know?"

it's the not-loaf of a man- er, cat- very much resisting the urge to tease batt about her newfound horror at the world of having four paws and a tail, which, for cas, took a considerable amount of friendship.

and a memory of what he'd been like his first time.

> the thing kinda is you know /how/ to think like a person, yknow? you can do that with any brain big enough. cats brains aren't lower quality, just...different.

> same goes for talking.

> you're right, though- smaller you go, harder it gets. don't try being eloquent as a ferret. rarely works. and rabbits? well, they ain't much good for anything but running and eating.

> speaking of-- how consistently can you do that hat trick, anyway? because first, it's cool as hell, and secondly, i- for one- am fuckin starved.

"Good thing I wasn't planning on going to anything smaller than a cat. Besides maybe a rat. I like rats." Batt smiles for a moment. "Well, anyway, yeah, I will try not to go smaller than this. Although it'll be a bitch getting used to cat instincts for a bit."

"Oh, and the rabbits? They're the first thing you learn at a witch's frat party. Or so I've been told. I wasn't a witch. Or a student of the arts... eh! This is fine though. Here's your rabbits!"

She knocks over her hat again, and a few rabbits come out. Most of them are white, but there is one black one.

"Hey, Cas, uhh, is it normal to have the urge to eat animals while you're like this? Be-"

Fwshoom. It's Gammae, bitch.

"Heyyyy guys! Sorry about that. Someone had to summon me for something. In the middle of my sentence. But, I digress! You two can't... die of radiation poisoning, right? Might be an issue if I stay around here for too long... oh well! It is what it is, that's what I think. Right?"

Batt simply nods, tries to pull one of the sledgehammers as a cat, and miserably fails, falling over. Gammae is disappointed.

"Is that the b- oh Christ's sake, one sec."

Fwoomph. And she's gone again.

Batt speaks.

he blinks a few times, trying his best to come to terms with this sudden influx of new information-- honestly, rather used to the steady stream of events the filter of being a cat usually gave to the world. well, it did give the filter of a steady stream of events, but it did also make one need to wash oneself with one's own tongue, so it was usually a viewpoint with its ups and downs. he really wasn't sure where eating rabbits came onto on the scale of things. honestly, cas liked rabbits. they were a fun kind of food; enough speed to make the chase exciting, and enough meat to make it worth it. frankly, he'd eat them even when he wasn't a cat- or rather, he would, if he could get his hands on any for long enough.

> pretty normal for shapeshifters, yeah.

he twitches his ear, hungrily eyeing up batt's rabbit from the corner of his eye.

> you can't be an animal without...you know, having all the qualities of it.

> like their lungs and spleens and stuff. their bodies don't really work otherwise.

> 's evolution, baby.

> and i guess if you give any kind of animal sharp enough claws and a small enough mind and put a rabbit before it, its first thought is gonna be 'mm, dinner'.

> i mean, think about it. any brain small enough knows how to eat and to fuck. that's your basic qualities.

> i've, uh, never picked up a cat's libido, though. guess that's the benefit of basically being spayyyyyyyyyyyiiiimean uh. i'm honestly getting curious now- how the hell did you get caught up in all of this? like, how does one develop an ongoing- whatever this is. friendship? rivalry? with a radiation goddess when they're vulnerable to radiation?

"So everything inside me is just cat organs and such now? And my brain is running off a cat's brain? I dunno how a cat would have such comprehensive thoughts, but you know what? I'm kinda glad they do. I'd hate to just be stuck with instincts of a cat only."

"I'm not feeling super hungry, but still a rabbit looked very... appetizing. It was weird! And I'm not gonna think too much about the libido thing. Maybe that'll keep it away, y'know?"

> not that i blame your guy. i would also hate to be in here if i didn't have to.

he manages a sort of reedy whine- and, in true cas fashion (or perhaps true cat fashion, it was hard to distinguish the two) looks incorrigibly proud of himself for it.

> then again, whoever 'she' is- uh- i don't wanna know her either. whoever gets that amount of stress put on their pronouns is not someone id wanna...you know, meet in a dark alley. not that there's any of those around. don't wanna run into her in the employee lounge, if you get my drift- no, that doesn't have nearly the same ring to it.

> whoever 'she' is sounds scary as fuck. there we go. that's what i'm tryna say.

the next three notes are almost a scale- and, failing that only slightly, are not...wholly horrible to hear.

> oh, god. well, telling you now, 'pleasant' and 'musical' are not words ever used to describe me. so. sorry. in advance. um.

> well, i mean, gosh, i'd thought they were just bogstandard ones? for ambiance, yknow? gotta spruce up the ol' musical talent up in here. had no idea particular candles did particular things- but then again- yep, no, never done this before.

 > you've the honour of being the first...seer i've ever met. so. psssh. lucky coincidence there, i guess.

the thing about being a creature that had the world expensively laid before his eyes was that cas had utterly no need to turn his head to see any of it. the thing about being the carrier of the residual, fragmented memories of a human being was that the urge to turn one's head towards a sound (or the absence of it in this case) was still existent, regardless of how ineffective it might be.

usually, those two sort of cancelled each other out somewhere along the path. right now, he was forced to fix his attention on the afformentioned candles purely to stop himself from glancing back at the computer wall- or what lay behind it, in this case.

he'd been kind of fighting to cover up the noises of batt's presence (and to resist wondering what the hell she could have back there that was bubbling)- but this newfound sudden silence was almost more worrying. he hoped dimly it was the silence of someone who had gotten wind of this plan, and not the kind of someone who'd dissolved hereself with her own magic or whatever. that was the other thing.

the world might have been laid out extensively before his gaze, but it did not penetrate walls of computers.

or at least, not far beyond them.

> love how you have to specify its not a cult, for what its worth.

> i mean- i don't think cults particularly go around calling themselves that either? but you seem a perfectly trustworthy radioactive sludge being, so i'll take your word for it. glad to be aboard.

> my apologies for the fact i'm also stuck here, though. you just really get your pick of clients, huh?

"Well, uhh. I would usually offer a blessing and correspondent curse, or just a bounty on someone, but... you don't particularly look like you want or need either. So. Do you wanna just, like... ransack n' break shit? You seem like the kinda guy to do that."

She creates a few slightly glowy and noticably green tools for destroying things on the ground. Sledgehammers, axes, saws, the like.

"Also, being completely honest with you, cuz iunno why, but I trust you. It's kiiiinda a cult, but everyone who joins goes in knowing that, and you don't even really have to do anything because of it. If anything, you get to say you're in a cult of a murderer-goddess, so that's rad."

alright, fair. that one was good enough for him.

> s'pose it depends what your blessings involve. or your curses, for that matter.

he takes one of the saws anyway (probably because it's the only implement he can conceivably lift), swinging it back and forth on one finger.

> but you're right. not much stays permanent around here, except the fact you can't leave. so it'd probably be a waste of a curse, whereas this might be not-a-waste of some good ol' ransacking.

> as you so succinctly put it.

> for what its worth, i do have some questions about the whole setup of your cult. kind-of-cult? i mean, like. if i didn't go in knowing it was a cult, does that mean i can leave? what if ive already sold my soul to some other murder-goddess?

> have i technically joined, for that matter? i was just tryna play some sick music, man. i haven't really signed up to anything. right?

"Y'know, I'm goddamn surprised if you've found another murder goddess around here, nevermind one that wants someone stuck in an office building. Also, no leaving for a while! There's usually a death penalty, but I like your vibes, so you'll just get off with blackmail. Sounds a lot worse than it is."

"Also, yeah! You've just gotta do a couple things every now and again, no big deal really. Kill someone, grab me something, summon me somewhere... really, it's a pretty sweet deal for the benefits if you ask me. But maybe that's my inner saleswoman talking, I dunno."

She continues hammering drywall, until Cas asks about the fire. She turns towards Cas to answer this question.

cas sniffs, sounding rather mock-hurt.

> a person stuck in an office? is that all i am to you? i'm a shapershifter, dammit- a murderer, a manipulator, a really handsome looking guy with the second-best hair in the world-- murder goddesses are practically queueing up at my feet.

> well, they're not, but they should be.

> and for what its worth,

he continues, after a momentary pause long enough to push a computer off the desk and into several pieces on the ground with all the elegance and grace of a cat dispelling a glass of water all over ones precious work,

> i'd like to see you try. at either of those, honestly. i ain't particularly blackmailable, and i'm very- adequately good at staying alive. mostly.

> well, don't try either of them. that's mostly how i succeed at staying alive. still.

he clears the rest of the desk with a sweep of the saw in neither an angle nor method in which any self-respecting saw should be used, climbing himself up to sit on the surface as gammae explains further.

> huh. it's- it's a sick arm, for what it's worth. probably not that that makes the whole experience much better, but i honestly mean it. i take it that wasn't always a...permanent fixture? that or you're just super good at remembering your childhood, and said childhood apparently sucked. i dunno how murder goddess infancy works, so sue me.

> people don't often sign themselves to get stuck with me for all eternity, y'see, so i may as well get the chance to enquire while i can.

As Cas lists off things he can do, she seems progressively more impressed with each item on the list he names.

"Shapeshifter. Really! Haven't seen that one before... or, at least in a while. Murderer AND manipulator? Already pretty qualified, then. Hair doesn't count for ranking in a murder cult. Neither does being handsome, especially if you're a shapeshifter."

"Well, I have that you're a murderer, a manipulator, and you summoned a goddess to join her cult? That seems pretty enough to get anyone down to a pretty low point in life, if you ask me. And I remember how I got the arm, even if nobody else I know does.. or can! Haha. Ha. Augh. Information hazards are a bitch."

Gammae's sledgehammer has, at this point, reached everything but the kitchen sink... and the computer mound. This would not be the case for long, due to the fact Gammae starts dismantling the computer wall at an alarming rate with sledgehammer shots. When she gets to seeing Batt, she just... stands there for a moment. And stares.

Batt says:

perhaps surprisingly, he doesn't follow himself up on the immediate instinct to make a break for it-- and the lingering threat of blackmail still seemed to play no part in it. no, he's more batting back and forth the concept of loyalty, and trust, and equity- and really, he's sitting there thinking to himself 'if i didn't care about batt, why did i take up her suggestion to talk to this goddess person? if i was going to make a break for it, shouldn't i have done it then? does it mean something i stayed this long?'

and then he glances askance at batt, and devolves into thinking 'what the fuck is she doing with her cauldron'?

that was the thing about running away- you never got to find anything cool out. and he was a being who had curiosity in the place of most peoples 'moral compass' or 'sense of right and wrong'- whatever those were supposed to mean.

so, he sighs and drops the form once more-- and in the space of a few split seconds, resumes being the familiar coal-black cat now settling itself protectively back over batts shoulders like a rather tacky ermine shawl.

> to be fair,

cas amends, not moving his gaze from gammae.

"Youuuu know what, you had me convinced, I applaud that. Genuinely thought you had summoned me yourself! Oh well though. Guess not. It is what it is! I'm not mad. Not at all, really! Being genuine. I-"

Poof-fzzt.

Batt has been transformed into a cat. She seems shocked by this, so it was most likely not the intended effect of the brew. Nonetheless, their now-oversized hat falls onto their cat body.

Batt speaks in a similar voice, although quieter.

"... huh. Well, that wasn't supposed to happen? Let's go with it, though. Must have got one of your hairs in the mix, Cas. Interesting stuff, really. ANYWAY, hello, Gammae! Sorry for summoning you so rudely accidentally on accident. We don't really need anything from you, so if you could just... yeah."

Gammae responds in a slightly offended tone.

he succeeds, more by luck than judgment, to land on his feet, but it's with a solid sort of 'thud' that he then proceeds to whine under his breath about for a good few seconds.

not that he really means it. honestly, he's more intrigued that happened at all. cas had always thought of his shape-shifting as more of a pretense-- like he could just what he looked like, not what he was (and to him, there was a lot of differentiation between the two). but the fact that apparently his dna was enough to have this impact boded very interestingly. not necessarily well, not necessarily badly, just interestingly.

cas pushes her hat askance a little and takes an inquisitive sniff of his newly cat-ified companion, and then pulls the face of a man not quite sure why he'd done that. that was the issue with turning into animals-- eventually, you started to think like them too.

> i don't know nearly enough about this whole setup to comment on that whole 'proper attire' idea. just imagine i'm being aptly sarcastic right about now.

> believe me, i really do 'preciate the forgiveness and everything, though.

Gammae just kinda... watches the two. Batt stares back, and the two lock in some kind of cross-species staring contest. Gammae wins this endeavor, to no reaction from Batt.

Gammae speaks: "No problem. Really. Once you reach the point where you're getting- oop, one second-"

... and she vanishes, temporarily.

Batt watches this happen, and responds "So. Do you have anything you have to do right now, orrrr. Do you wanna destroy shit with hammers. Because I'm feeling pretty hammers right now."

cats aren't particularly known for possessing shoulder blades enough to shrug in the way cas promptly does, but he almost succeeds in making the movement look natural.

> that being said- wow. have to say, was not expecting our whole innocent little crisps-and-kazoo escapade to wind up resulting in this.

> is this frankly just the normal state for the people one summons to be, or is she just particularly...yknow?

he gently nudges their hat with his nose, supporting it a little more from the ever threatening presence of gravity.

> i just mean, its a wild and exciting life you live, evidently. kind of nuts. wouldn't change you for the world, though.

"Well, I'm more asking you, because I'm always destroying things with hammers in my mind. So, if you're asking me, then the answer's yes, let's fuck shit up. Just be prepared to run when I do, just in case."

They continue:

"Being honest, I kind of did expect it, what with your 'masterful' kazoo and all. Probably would have been a better result if I used a different channel, but you know what? Now I get to hit things with hammers. So it's a win in my books."

cas flicks an ear, trying his very hardest not to smile at batts antics. he knew all too well the feeling of elation that came with mastering another form- though stuck in these offices with all of these boring, single-formed losers- he'd never have thought he'd get to experience the joys of seeing someone else get it so utterly.

> and- wha- hey.

theres a tone of mock anger to the words- the sort of mock anger hes not even putting much effort into. that playing had been crap, and he knew it.

> that was some absolutely brilliant kazoo coming from a man who's never played it before, yknow. sheesh. you're so mean to me sometimes.

> maybe if i'd known it was attached to this whole 'cult' idea then things would've been different.

> which i still- yknow? man, i live here. yeah the interior decorating sucks. but if she tries randomly kidnapping me elsewhere, she's going to be in for some kind of surprise.

"Hey, Cas, uhh, is it normal to have the urge to eat animals while you're like this? Be-"

Fwshoom. It's Gammae, bitch.

"Heyyyy guys! Sorry about that. Someone had to summon me for something. In the middle of my sentence. But, I digress! You two can't... die of radiation poisoning, right? Might be an issue if I stay around here for too long... oh well! It is what it is, that's what I think. Right?"

Batt simply nods, tries to pull one of the sledgehammers as a cat, and miserably fails, falling over. Gammae is disappointed.

"Is that the b- oh Christ's sake, one sec."

Fwoomph. And she's gone again.

Batt speaks.

“Well, if she’s such a doormat, what’s the harm in her knowing you’re doing things? You do the stuff, you get ranted at for a few minutes, all’s well that ends well! That’s what I’d do at least.” Batt sits in one of the office chairs, and leans back.

“Were those all your souls, by the way? There was a ton of them. And they all looked kinda similar.”

“Also, if you ever need another spell cast or anything, just find me. I’ll get it ready quicker than I did this time, and I won’t lie. Thanks for being one of the few chill people around here.

Doom hesitates a bit to answer that. The truth is, with as big of a doormat as Thursday is, Doom doesn’t like to disappoint her. She respects her a lot, probably more than anyone else. Having Thursday upset with her is like… well, disappointing yourself. There’s no getting away from that. If Thursday found out that Doom hurt someone she cared about, who knows if Thursday would forgive her? Especially if it was the one person she wants to hurt the most. How many times in all her lives did he hurt her? How many of her souls were hurt because of that asshole? She should be able to beat the shit out of him at least one time, that’s all she’s saying.

She just shrugs. “Well, we’ll see what happens,” is her noncommittal response.

The question about her other souls is much easier to answer. “Yeah, that was some of the other Thursdays! That wasn’t even half of them, actually. They’re all the same person just from different dimensions and timelines. And they should all look the same because they’re all me. I saved all of them from… well, becoming me,” she says blinking her eyes and rubbing at them as if that’s going to help her vision improve. “This is going to take some getting used to…”

"'We'll see what happens'? I guess so, but, I don't think there's much that she could do to you, so... I think knock yourself out with it. You've waited long enough, yknow? Do what you wanted to."

Batt messes with her hat a bit, taking it off her head and putting it back on their head in a different postion.

"Iunno why anyone wouldn't tolerate you. You're pretty goddamn cool! Dunno if there's much you could do to make me change my mind on that fact."

Batt gets up out of her chair.

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.

Batt sits in one of the office chairs, and leans back.

"Were those all your souls, by the way? There was a ton of them. And they all looked kinda similar."

For most people, being yelled at by a reaper would elicit a reaction. Batt is in fact most people in this scenario, but they have a very helpful skill that’s called “hide anything you’re feeling while someone is listening to you actively”. This is what they do, making direct eye contact… or, the best they can do with Doom’s eyes glowing so goddamn bright. Batt looks around at all of the various scattered souls, and gets a little bit uncomfortable being in a room with so many people. It’s been ages since she’s been in a room with even just 5, actually. So upwards of dozens of people? They’re reasonably unnerved about it, but they pass it off as nothing out of the ordinary.

“I casted one of the better options. Unbound, but all feelings are… well. It’s supposed to be excessively increased, but for you, it’ll most likely end up more minor. If the ability to receive stimulus is a negative to you, sorry.”

Batt then spreads their arms out, and braces for a hit.

“I mean hit me. Make the first one worth it. I’m not gonna be mad or anything. Just wanna make sure the spell worked. Put all your anger that I didn’t kill you into it. I’ll live. After that, why don’t we test out the side effects?”

Doom just continues to stare at Batt for a few more seconds, the concept of what she’s just been told trying desperately to dig itself into her thick head. It seems to be taking a while because she is having difficulty comprehending several things at the same time, leading to a sort of bottleneck effect in what would be the ghost equivalent of her brain:

1. That she is still here. 2. Several of her other souls just let themselves out. 3. Batt lied to her. 4. She has some ability to feel stimulus back? 5. She’s still here? 6. Her eyes… what’s wrong with her eyes? 7. And sound… why is it she feels like she can actually hear Batt speaking to her?

The ghost just continues to stare at them until finally she shakes herself out of it, but that only provides her with enough awareness to look around as if she’s never seen anything before. She’s very confused about why everything looks different. Like… how everything used to look before she got glasses, back when she was alive. She can still see all the colors - and souls - but now she is also seeing almost an afterimage of things.

“What did you do to her?” the short-haired Thursday asks Batt, noticing how stunned Doomsday is behaving.

Doomsday looks up sharply, directly at the short-haired Thursday and just blinks at her. “Nextday?” she says quietly. “I can- I can hear you!” She is so amazed by this that she doesn’t even know how to react. Her gaze shifts over to Batt - although, having no actual eyeballs makes it difficult to discern unless she’s moved her head as well. “H-H-H-How did you-?”

She cuts herself off by quickly spawning in an apple and taking a bite, but she isn’t able to taste it, which is disappointing, but she can smell it, which is strange.

"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.

Once you’ve cast a class of spell once, you’ve basically casted them all. After anybody’s first conjuration, it quickly becomes second nature. Divination becomes like a habit you can’t break. And yet, Batt has never been comfortable casting soul-related spells. They’ve done it almost dozens of times now, for various different reasons (mostly her own) but she has never has it just click. It did not make it any easier that this time she was lying to the face of the person she was casting the spell on.

Batt figured it made it more real to struggle to cast it. This was not an intentional decision, but more of a side effect of bringing themself to lie to her cast-ee. (They don’t know the term for who’s being cast on besides target, but this isn’t really a target, because Doom is willing, but she’s also not? It’s weird.) Their hands are shaky, and their voice is just the name.

“I hope you don’t mind loud chanting?”

Batt gets on her knees in front of the circle, puts their hands in the air, and a faint glow emanates from the circle. They then begin. The chant is shaky, but slowly gets more confident.

“The eye annihilates. The air gyrates. A gate in the sky. A portal to die.”

As the room glows a terribly pretty mix of green and red, their chanting grows louder, until a seemingly sudden stop. The glow fizzles away, like water poured on a bonfire. Batt gets up from on her knees, silently turns to face their book, looking away from a very much non-diffused Doom. They take a few breaths, then continue to talk.

“You’ll be lightheaded for a bit. Losing taste would be the main effect, but I doubt that effects you. You’re not gone, as you can probably tell.”

They turn back towards Doom, notably somewhat distressed, but not panicking nearly as much as before.

“Hit me.”

Doom doesn’t respond beyond a small shake of the head. There’s a strange sensation going on inside her as several of the other souls in there are screaming at her. They don’t want to dissolve or diffuse or- whatever it is that’s about to be done to them. They want to live.

Just before Batt begins casting the spell, several dozens souls force their way out of Doom. They scatter around the room in varying degrees of distress before several of them turn on Doom and start yelling at her.

“I didn’t escape being digested by that mist creature just to be diffused now!” one of them barks at the Reaper. Her short, shoulder-length hair stands out from the rest who all have longer hair. “You’re acting like an idiot!”

A few of the other Thursdays agree with the short-haired one. Doom ignores them all and remains inside the circle. Apparently the rest of the Thursdays are prepared to die with her.

Doom doesn’t feel much when Batt starts up the spell and the glowing light appears. That’s to be expected, though, isn’t it? Didn’t they say it would be painless? Oh to pass on painlessly. The death of her physical body had been far from painless. This is more of a blessing. She’s never been more ready for anything in her life or death…

…except when the glow dissipates, she’s still there.

She looks down at herself. Then slowly looks back up at Batt, her eyes confused but blazing. “…Batt… you want to explain what’s going on here? Or can I really just not ever die?”

Oh she’s furious. What did they do?! And why did they do it?!

“Hit you? Hit you? Why would I want to do that?” She snorts loudly, indeed feeling a bit light-headed, which is interesting because she hasn’t been able to feel any physical conditions since she died. “What did you do?“

Batt looks around at all of the various scattered souls, and gets a little bit uncomfortable being in a room with so many people. It's been ages since she's been in a room with even just 5, actually. So upwards of dozens of people? They're reasonably unnerved about it, but they pass it off as nothing out of the ordinary.

"I casted one of the better options. Unbound, but all feelings are... well. It's supposed to be excessively increased, but for you, it'll most likely end up more minor. If the ability to receive stimulus is a negative to you, sorry."

Batt then spreads their arms out, and braces for a hit.

> not that i blame your guy. i would also hate to be in here if i didn't have to.

he manages a sort of reedy whine- and, in true cas fashion (or perhaps true cat fashion, it was hard to distinguish the two) looks incorrigibly proud of himself for it.

> then again, whoever 'she' is- uh- i don't wanna know her either. whoever gets that amount of stress put on their pronouns is not someone id wanna...you know, meet in a dark alley. not that there's any of those around. don't wanna run into her in the employee lounge, if you get my drift- no, that doesn't have nearly the same ring to it.

> whoever 'she' is sounds scary as fuck. there we go. that's what i'm tryna say.

the next three notes are almost a scale- and, failing that only slightly, are not...wholly horrible to hear.

> oh, god. well, telling you now, 'pleasant' and 'musical' are not words ever used to describe me. so. sorry. in advance. um.

> well, i mean, gosh, i'd thought they were just bogstandard ones? for ambiance, yknow? gotta spruce up the ol' musical talent up in here. had no idea particular candles did particular things- but then again- yep, no, never done this before.

 > you've the honour of being the first...seer i've ever met. so. psssh. lucky coincidence there, i guess.

the thing about being a creature that had the world expensively laid before his eyes was that cas had utterly no need to turn his head to see any of it. the thing about being the carrier of the residual, fragmented memories of a human being was that the urge to turn one's head towards a sound (or the absence of it in this case) was still existent, regardless of how ineffective it might be.

usually, those two sort of cancelled each other out somewhere along the path. right now, he was forced to fix his attention on the afformentioned candles purely to stop himself from glancing back at the computer wall- or what lay behind it, in this case.

he'd been kind of fighting to cover up the noises of batt's presence (and to resist wondering what the hell she could have back there that was bubbling)- but this newfound sudden silence was almost more worrying. he hoped dimly it was the silence of someone who had gotten wind of this plan, and not the kind of someone who'd dissolved hereself with her own magic or whatever. that was the other thing.

the world might have been laid out extensively before his gaze, but it did not penetrate walls of computers.

or at least, not far beyond them.

> love how you have to specify its not a cult, for what its worth.

> i mean- i don't think cults particularly go around calling themselves that either? but you seem a perfectly trustworthy radioactive sludge being, so i'll take your word for it. glad to be aboard.

> my apologies for the fact i'm also stuck here, though. you just really get your pick of clients, huh?

"Well, uhh. I would usually offer a blessing and correspondent curse, or just a bounty on someone, but... you don't particularly look like you want or need either. So. Do you wanna just, like... ransack n' break shit? You seem like the kinda guy to do that."

She creates a few slightly glowy and noticably green tools for destroying things on the ground. Sledgehammers, axes, saws, the like.

"Also, being completely honest with you, cuz iunno why, but I trust you. It's kiiiinda a cult, but everyone who joins goes in knowing that, and you don't even really have to do anything because of it. If anything, you get to say you're in a cult of a murderer-goddess, so that's rad."

alright, fair. that one was good enough for him.

> s'pose it depends what your blessings involve. or your curses, for that matter.

he takes one of the saws anyway (probably because it's the only implement he can conceivably lift), swinging it back and forth on one finger.

> but you're right. not much stays permanent around here, except the fact you can't leave. so it'd probably be a waste of a curse, whereas this might be not-a-waste of some good ol' ransacking.

> as you so succinctly put it.

> for what its worth, i do have some questions about the whole setup of your cult. kind-of-cult? i mean, like. if i didn't go in knowing it was a cult, does that mean i can leave? what if ive already sold my soul to some other murder-goddess?

> have i technically joined, for that matter? i was just tryna play some sick music, man. i haven't really signed up to anything. right?

"Y'know, I'm goddamn surprised if you've found another murder goddess around here, nevermind one that wants someone stuck in an office building. Also, no leaving for a while! There's usually a death penalty, but I like your vibes, so you'll just get off with blackmail. Sounds a lot worse than it is."

"Also, yeah! You've just gotta do a couple things every now and again, no big deal really. Kill someone, grab me something, summon me somewhere... really, it's a pretty sweet deal for the benefits if you ask me. But maybe that's my inner saleswoman talking, I dunno."

She continues hammering drywall, until Cas asks about the fire. She turns towards Cas to answer this question.

cas sniffs, sounding rather mock-hurt.

> a person stuck in an office? is that all i am to you? i'm a shapershifter, dammit- a murderer, a manipulator, a really handsome looking guy with the second-best hair in the world-- murder goddesses are practically queueing up at my feet.

> well, they're not, but they should be.

> and for what its worth,

he continues, after a momentary pause long enough to push a computer off the desk and into several pieces on the ground with all the elegance and grace of a cat dispelling a glass of water all over ones precious work,

> i'd like to see you try. at either of those, honestly. i ain't particularly blackmailable, and i'm very- adequately good at staying alive. mostly.

> well, don't try either of them. that's mostly how i succeed at staying alive. still.

he clears the rest of the desk with a sweep of the saw in neither an angle nor method in which any self-respecting saw should be used, climbing himself up to sit on the surface as gammae explains further.

> huh. it's- it's a sick arm, for what it's worth. probably not that that makes the whole experience much better, but i honestly mean it. i take it that wasn't always a...permanent fixture? that or you're just super good at remembering your childhood, and said childhood apparently sucked. i dunno how murder goddess infancy works, so sue me.

> people don't often sign themselves to get stuck with me for all eternity, y'see, so i may as well get the chance to enquire while i can.

As Cas lists off things he can do, she seems progressively more impressed with each item on the list he names.

"Shapeshifter. Really! Haven't seen that one before... or, at least in a while. Murderer AND manipulator? Already pretty qualified, then. Hair doesn't count for ranking in a murder cult. Neither does being handsome, especially if you're a shapeshifter."

"Well, I have that you're a murderer, a manipulator, and you summoned a goddess to join her cult? That seems pretty enough to get anyone down to a pretty low point in life, if you ask me. And I remember how I got the arm, even if nobody else I know does.. or can! Haha. Ha. Augh. Information hazards are a bitch."

Gammae's sledgehammer has, at this point, reached everything but the kitchen sink... and the computer mound. This would not be the case for long, due to the fact Gammae starts dismantling the computer wall at an alarming rate with sledgehammer shots. When she gets to seeing Batt, she just... stands there for a moment. And stares.

Batt says:

perhaps surprisingly, he doesn't follow himself up on the immediate instinct to make a break for it-- and the lingering threat of blackmail still seemed to play no part in it. no, he's more batting back and forth the concept of loyalty, and trust, and equity- and really, he's sitting there thinking to himself 'if i didn't care about batt, why did i take up her suggestion to talk to this goddess person? if i was going to make a break for it, shouldn't i have done it then? does it mean something i stayed this long?'

and then he glances askance at batt, and devolves into thinking 'what the fuck is she doing with her cauldron'?

that was the thing about running away- you never got to find anything cool out. and he was a being who had curiosity in the place of most peoples 'moral compass' or 'sense of right and wrong'- whatever those were supposed to mean.

so, he sighs and drops the form once more-- and in the space of a few split seconds, resumes being the familiar coal-black cat now settling itself protectively back over batts shoulders like a rather tacky ermine shawl.

> to be fair,

cas amends, not moving his gaze from gammae.

"Youuuu know what, you had me convinced, I applaud that. Genuinely thought you had summoned me yourself! Oh well though. Guess not. It is what it is! I'm not mad. Not at all, really! Being genuine. I-"

Poof-fzzt.

Batt has been transformed into a cat. She seems shocked by this, so it was most likely not the intended effect of the brew. Nonetheless, their now-oversized hat falls onto their cat body.

Batt speaks in a similar voice, although quieter.

"... huh. Well, that wasn't supposed to happen? Let's go with it, though. Must have got one of your hairs in the mix, Cas. Interesting stuff, really. ANYWAY, hello, Gammae! Sorry for summoning you so rudely accidentally on accident. We don't really need anything from you, so if you could just... yeah."

Gammae responds in a slightly offended tone.

he succeeds, more by luck than judgment, to land on his feet, but it's with a solid sort of 'thud' that he then proceeds to whine under his breath about for a good few seconds.

not that he really means it. honestly, he's more intrigued that happened at all. cas had always thought of his shape-shifting as more of a pretense-- like he could just what he looked like, not what he was (and to him, there was a lot of differentiation between the two). but the fact that apparently his dna was enough to have this impact boded very interestingly. not necessarily well, not necessarily badly, just interestingly.

cas pushes her hat askance a little and takes an inquisitive sniff of his newly cat-ified companion, and then pulls the face of a man not quite sure why he'd done that. that was the issue with turning into animals-- eventually, you started to think like them too.

> i don't know nearly enough about this whole setup to comment on that whole 'proper attire' idea. just imagine i'm being aptly sarcastic right about now.

> believe me, i really do 'preciate the forgiveness and everything, though.

Gammae just kinda... watches the two. Batt stares back, and the two lock in some kind of cross-species staring contest. Gammae wins this endeavor, to no reaction from Batt.

Gammae speaks: "No problem. Really. Once you reach the point where you're getting- oop, one second-"

... and she vanishes, temporarily.

Batt watches this happen, and responds "So. Do you have anything you have to do right now, orrrr. Do you wanna destroy shit with hammers. Because I'm feeling pretty hammers right now."

cats aren't particularly known for possessing shoulder blades enough to shrug in the way cas promptly does, but he almost succeeds in making the movement look natural.

> that being said- wow. have to say, was not expecting our whole innocent little crisps-and-kazoo escapade to wind up resulting in this.

> is this frankly just the normal state for the people one summons to be, or is she just particularly...yknow?

he gently nudges their hat with his nose, supporting it a little more from the ever threatening presence of gravity.

> i just mean, its a wild and exciting life you live, evidently. kind of nuts. wouldn't change you for the world, though.

"Well, I'm more asking you, because I'm always destroying things with hammers in my mind. So, if you're asking me, then the answer's yes, let's fuck shit up. Just be prepared to run when I do, just in case."

They continue:

"Being honest, I kind of did expect it, what with your 'masterful' kazoo and all. Probably would have been a better result if I used a different channel, but you know what? Now I get to hit things with hammers. So it's a win in my books."

Batt is pretty easy to make jump, so she flinches pretty wildly at the attempt to have a filing cabinet thrown at them, only for it to just… fall. They still keep the same position they flinched into while looking at the filling cabinet that’s now fallen onto the floor. This does not stop Batt from scrambling to behind a desk and taking deep breaths, in an attempt to keep at least them calm in this scenario. If this works or not is not apparent yet. She pulls out her spellbook again, keeps flipping through it in hopes that MAYBE they missed something that could just fix this situation. Hasn’t failed her before! Won’t now!

“Fine! Fine. I have one here. C'mere. Painless diffusion. Just requires a frog tongue, which I have.”

Batt starts setting up a circle with the materials she got earlier, but with a frog tongue in the fifth slot. If Doom was paying attention, she would realize these were the ingredients for one of the de-binding spells, with a frog tongue as the catalyst.

“Center of the circle. That’s the area of effect. Tell me when.”

Batt is also somewhat covering her eyes from the radiant glow of Doom’s eyes.

Batt may or may not know - and Doom certainly does not - but their magic could very well do serious damage to Doomsday. Being a Reaper, there are three things that can harm her - other Reapers, light attacks, and magic. Any sort of physical attack will fail, though. She isn’t thinking straight, so that on top of ignorance of the real danger she is putting herself in right now doesn’t even occur to her.

Painless diffusion. Oh that sounds wonderful. To melt away without any pain. To be gone, just like that.

And, just like that, she starts trying to expel her other souls, all 1,019 of them. There’s a very curious struggle taking place, though, that from the outside looks like she’s just arguing with herself. On the inside, though… she is holding a debate with over a thousand versions of herself, and a good deal of them are just as pissed off at her as she is with them.

“Come on, guys- Guys- Guys- I’m the one in charge, this is my body you’re all squatting in- What?! No, I think you’ll find it’s the other way around! JUST GET OUT! JUST GO! MOVE ON, BOND WITH ANOTHER REAPER, I DON’T CARE! I WANT OUT! I’M DONE! I’M DONE! IF YOU WON’T LEAVE, THEN I’LL TAKE YOU DOWN WITH ME!”

With an angry huff, the ghost does as she’s been instructed and puts herself in the center of the circle. She wasn’t paying enough attention to the all the ingredients Batt listed in the various de-binding spells, so she is fully expecting to be diffused here.

It did not make it any easier that this time she was lying to the face of the person she was casting the spell on.

Batt figured it made it more real to struggle to cast it. This was not an intentional decision, but more of a side effect of bringing themself to lie to her cast-ee. (They don't know the term for who's being cast on besides target, but this isn't really a target, because Doom is willing, but she's also not? It's weird.) Their hands are shaky, and their voice is just the name.

"I hope you don't mind loud chanting?"

Batt gets on her knees in front of the circle, puts their hands in the air, and a faint glow emanates from the circle. They then begin. The chant is shaky, but slowly gets more confident.

"The eye annihilates. The air gyrates. A gate in the sky. A portal to die."

As the room glows a terribly pretty mix of green and red, their chanting grows louder, until a seemingly sudden stop. The glow fizzles away, like water poured on a bonfire. Batt gets up from on her knees, silently turns to face their book, looking away from a very much non-diffused Doom. They take a few breaths, then continue to talk.

"You'll be lightheaded for a bit. Losing taste would be the main effect, but I doubt that effects you. You're not gone, as you can probably tell."

They turn back towards Doom, notably somewhat distressed, but not panicking nearly as much as before.

“I’ll hit someone? I’ll hit someone? Weren’t you listening?! I can’t hurt ANYBODY!“ Doomsday utterly screams before going to demonstrate by picking up another filing cabinet and throwing it directly at Batt… only for it to fall straight to the ground after barely traveling an inch, obviously not hitting Batt at all. If she had an actual tangible body, it would have landed right on her toes. She then picks up the filing cabinet again and throws it in a different direction - where there is nobody - and it sails away, down a hallway, to where it crashes onto the floor.

Through all her fury she hasn’t even noticed her friend’s panic. If she were a lot calmer, she’d be apologizing profusely, but as it is she is, as they say, blinded with rage. This is one of her biggest flaws, being the kind of ghost she is - her temper is easily sparked, and can quickly grow intense and out of control like a wildfire. And there is unfortunately little she can do about it, as part of her soul that was destroyed by the Dampening mist included verbal filters and being able to control her emotions. The worst part is she knows logically that Batt did nothing wrong and that they are trying to help - she is just unable to really think about that right now.

She doesn’t notice that they are flipping through a book either and seeking out further options. She hears them speaking but the words don’t fully register. By the time she is finally able to calm down enough to respond rationally, her eyes are glowing at such high intensity they might be uncomfortable to look at. She has all this energy and nowhere for it to go.

This does not stop Batt from scrambling to behind a desk and taking deep breaths, in an attempt to keep at least them calm in this scenario. If this works or not is not apparent yet. She pulls out her spellbook again, keeps flipping through it in hopes that MAYBE they missed something that could just fix this situation. Hasn't failed her before! Won't now!

"Fine! Fine. I have one here. C'mere. Painless diffusion. Just requires a frog tongue, which I have."

Batt starts setting up a circle with the materials she got earlier, but with a frog tongue in the fifth slot. If Doom was paying attention, she would realize these were the ingredients for one of the de-binding spells, with a frog tongue as the catalyst.

"Center of the circle. That's the area of effect. Tell me when."

Batt thinks about something while Doom is gone. What is it? It's the thought that they might need a couple extra materials. Not to say they're particularly difficult ones, minus a specific one if Doom wants to have the best chance at no side effects, but some more obscure ones. They'd have to ask Doom when she gets back.

Speak of the devil.

"Thinking about it a bit more, this is the base rudimentary stuff for soul unbinding. That is to say, casting with JUST this could very well dissipate one of your souls, which I very much don't want happening nor do I feel like being on your bad side. So, I'm gonna need a couple extra things, depending on how you want the end result to come out."

Batt counts a few things on her fingers, then turns to Doom.

"A violet on the cusp of withering will be a reversal of condition, where you can hurt anyone except those close to your living counterpart."

"A goat heart would probably be the most effective way, but you're gonna be feeling some.. phantom pains... sorry, it was low hanging fruit. You're gonna feel some real pain when you hurt somebody you couldn't before."

"A chunk of bismuth will completely split you two, but every soul will relive every moment of it's life in an instant before it works. Twice. All the feelings at once too, presumably. Which will all end up going back to you."

She frowns and says, "Well! I'm glad you told me all this now. But that sucks! Should have known it wouldn't be so easy. Ugh." She stomps around for a few seconds, kicking at the carpet and thinking. "I definitely don't want any of my souls damaged. So doing this without the extra things is out of the question. They've been through enough, you know? They don't need to be- to go through what they escaped from in the first place."

Doom, being the type of ghost that she is, of course has been through the experience of having her soul dissolved. It was the most painful, horrific thing she's ever experienced and she wouldn't wish it on her worst enemy. Well... maybe her worst enemy, but that would be it. Her other 1,019 souls don't deserve it. And she doesn't know if 'dissipating' is the same as 'dissolving' or not but she'd rather not find out.

Being unable to hurt anyone close to Thursday, well... that's out. One of the people Thursday is very close to just so happens to be one of the people whose ass Doom wants to kick the most. If she can't beat the shit out of him, then what's the point?

Onto the next option. Pain. Phantom pains. What exactly is meant by that? How bad will that "phantom" pain be? She hasn't felt pain since... well, she can't remember how long it's been. Point is, she's pretty much forgotten what pain feels like, although... feeling pain would make her feel alive again. And it'll only happen when she hurts someone? Hmm...

Now, having every single one of her souls relive every moment of their life in an instant, twice. And feel everything along with it. On the surface that seems like the most tolerable of her options her. But one look beneath that reveals that it's probably the worst. Doom herself has experienced an extraordinary amount of anguish in her life. All of her other souls have experienced very much the same, with some variations. She already suffers now with the burden of all of their thoughts, memories, and feelings. She's an utter fucking mess, which is what led her to asking Batt for help in the first place. How much worse off will she be if she decides to take it all in at once, twice over? She doesn't think she'll survive that.

She doesn't know what to do. She's desperate, but she doesn't know what to do. Her other souls are divided on the decision too. There's no harmony in their decisions and reasoning, leading to confusion for her as the host.

She suddenly stops pacing and puts her hands on the side of her face, clearly distressed as all of her other souls are debating. "I don't know. I don't know. I don't know what to do. I just want it to stop. I just want to be able to fight back! Why does that mean that I have to hurt more for it? So, what, everybody else gets to piss and shit all over me, but I'm not allowed to stand up for myself without having to piss and shit all over myself first?! What kind of utter fucking bullshit is that?!"

Furious, Doom picks up a filing cabinet and launches it through a wall. She then goes and sits down in a computer chair and puts her head down.

"There's still options. Those were just the.. the ones that came to mind first. I can look at my list to see alternatives. Just please... stop throwing things. You'll hit someone."

Batt summons a large book, and flips to a specific page. She looks through each page rather quick, and lands on a specific one.

"Here! All of these will have the de-binding effect, just with... varying consequences. Manic episodes, regret, whatever fragmentation is, permanent loss of taste... here! This one is just that your counterpart will know who and when you hurt someone. Only thing is... I need a pretty big clump of their hair or skin cells. Something identifying."

"Got it. Permanent cutting of a soul bond. This'll be a fun one to cast! So. This is gonna require some kind of rare ingredients, but hopefully nothing we can't find around here. We're gonna need steel, a peacock feather, thyme, and a whole canary. Oh, and also some kinda green substance for the casting circle. I can get the steel and thyme right here, but I'm lost on bird anatomy."

They pull a few pieces of sharp steel out of their hat, along with a clump of thyme. They set these on the ground in a circle, the thyme inside the metal.

Oh, she's going to have so much to do after this, she doesn't even know where she'll want to start.

Her mood has also greatly improved, just like that. "You can really do it? Hahahaha, YESSSSS!" she cheers, eyes glowing right in excitement. "That's really all you need? Hell, if I'd known that, I would have asked you this a lot sooner. One sec."

The ghost suddenly opens up a portal and jumps into it, closing it behind her with a pop. Maybe two or three minutes later she's coming right back via another portal which opens and closes as quickly as she hops through it. She is carrying a small cage with a bird in it and presents it to Batt.

"Finding a canary is so easy when they just sell them in pet stores everywhere," she says, rubbing her hands together with a huge grin. "What else you need? Oh." Pausing briefly, she easily spawns in a peacock feather and hands it over. "Okay, I'm ready, hit me with it!"

Batt thinks about something while Doom is gone. What is it? It's the thought that they might need a couple extra materials. Not to say they're particularly difficult ones, minus a specific one if Doom wants to have the best chance at no side effects, but some more obscure ones. They'd have to ask Doom when she gets back.

Speak of the devil.

"Thinking about it a bit more, this is the base rudimentary stuff for soul unbinding. That is to say, casting with JUST this could very well dissipate one of your souls, which I very much don't want happening nor do I feel like being on your bad side. So, I'm gonna need a couple extra things, depending on how you want the end result to come out."

Batt counts a few things on her fingers, then turns to Doom.

"A violet on the cusp of withering will be a reversal of condition, where you can hurt anyone except those close to your living counterpart."

"A goat heart would probably be the most effective way, but you're gonna be feeling some.. phantom pains... sorry, it was low hanging fruit. You're gonna feel some real pain when you hurt somebody you couldn't before."

"A chunk of bismuth will completely split you two, but every soul will relive every moment of it's life in an instant before it works. Twice. All the feelings at once too, presumably. Which will all end up going back to you."