Bird in the Nest (Original plotline)

The fallen angel flipped over several of the lobby's couches and pulled them together to make a shelter of sorts. Apart from the recent appearance of her former squadron leader, not many Heavenly figures descended into Hell since the Extermination was canceled.

That left Harp alone.

She barricaded the doors to keep angry, hungry demons at bay. She was powerless without her weapon and exposed without her mask. Harp curled in on herself beneath the small shelter, her wings shielding her body. Any minute she expected that door to fly open, she would be torn apart.

Outside of the terrible din of the demons, a loud rumbling roar filled the ears of all those present. Like that of a mad beast approaching at terrible speed, which wasn't that far off. A groaning sound filled the world for a moment, and if Harp peeked out of the window she could see a beautiful phenomenon. Millions of strands of mycelium blossomed from one Daerlaf, who sat on top of a beautiful motorcycle painted in light pink, white, and light blue. Mushrooms then sprouted from the mycelium, making her a wide path to walk while blocking prying eyes. She dismounted from the bike, removing her black helmet and shaking her hair back in place. Each of her steps as she approached the doors made the flora around them pulse with energy, like the heartbeat of a leviathan entity. A soft voice left her lips, entering the inside of the embassy.

"Harp, it's Daerlaf. Mushroom demon, remember me? C'mon out. I made the locals back the fuck off. "

She didn't force her way in or take any further action than this, outside of rapping on the door with a gloved hand. The color across her body drained greatly, making her seem right at death's door. This display took a LOT of energy from her. Probably too much just to save one abandoned Angel... But she deemed it worth it, out of her own interests

"I can take ya somewhere safer than here. No charge, no deals. We can chat and I can make you a bite to eat. Just come on out, please?"

Harp approached the massive window, her body situated squarely within the cross. She was worse for wear, her mid-length hair tangled into a short ponytail laying slack on her shoulder. A dark circle under her good eye seemed to stand out behind the white fringe of her bangs. Her scowl was present yet her gloved hand went against the window.

A familiar face.

Her gaze went skyward, backing up against the marble floor to inspect the mushrooms with disbelief. There was nothing like it in Heaven and she couldn't begin to describe the colorful fungi to herself, let alone to anyone else if they asked. A strange kind of beauty came with them.

That gave her a moment to see the light still shining through the window, between the giant toadstools. She stood in the translucent shadow of the cross for a few more beats before her indecisiveness drove her into a rage. She shattered the glass with her gloved fist and stepped out, shaking her hand behind her.

"What other choice is there?" Harp questioned flatly. She stepped over the shattered glass and stood beside her, looking up at the woman who was a whole foot taller than her.

She flashed her signature grin, showing her teeth amicably, and shrugged her shoulders while walking over to Harp. Though the smile was fake, the vague relief that the Angel still had her wings wasn't. She knew damn well how much those meant. Her voice dropped octaves, becoming a soft whisper just loud enough for Harp to hear. A genuine tone taking place of her slightly authoritative one she'd used moments ago

"I'm glad you're not harmed.. Physically, at least. The other choice was to stay holed up in the embassy and starve, but to be honest it ain't a good choice. C'mon. Phantasmagoria's waiting."

When she said the long name, she motioned a hand at the bike. Her body seemed a bit worse for wear, now that Harp could see Daera up close. A deep bag beneath her working eye, paired with a strange exhaustion that seemed to permeate her movements. Adding atop that the terrible color of her skin, she looked like shit. Still hot though. She walked to the bike, tossing a spare helmet at Harp. It looked custom, having two slots for horns in it. Another person used to ride with her regularly enough to warrant a custom helmet..?

"Let's get moving 'fore I drop dead from maintaining this much shit. Can't do this for too long, still training."

As she said that, she lowered a hand as if commanding an orchestra. As she did it, all the mushrooms burst outwards with neon blue spores. Affecting many of the demons, and knocking them unconscious upon inhalation. Stangely, it didn't seem to do anything to Harp. As if protecting her.

Harp fumbled with the helmet but managed to catch it by the holes in the top. She looked at the helmet and then Dae before stepping forward and then running to the bike. The realization that she was free activated her fight or flight, her steel boots clanking toward the motorcycle.

"This motorcycle isn't very good for stealth, how will we-" Harp turned around and watched the demons collapse onto the street. Her eyes widened and she hopped onto the back of the bike, holding her hands to the holes in the helmet. Harp didn't know where to place her hands on the bike but once it started moving, she quickly wrapped her arms around Daera's middle as a reaction to the jolt.

She closed her eyes tightly, her wings covering the two of them, the grey wings reaching Dae's sides and didn't obstruct her view of the road.

A laugh of amusement left Daera's lips, a teasing remark soon following. She couldn't help it! Harp was just fun to bully! Too much fun! The bike roared furiously, nearly drowning out her words as they began moving.

"Do you embrace every girl that saves you from a hungry mob of degenerate demons wanting to eat you for breakfast, Birdie?"

As they began moving, she placed her own helmet on her head with one hand, buckling it in the same fashion. Sure, she was drained. Sure, she wanted to collapse. But that'd be missing out on this golden opportunity to help out someone as lost as she was

Without commenting further, they zoomed away at worrisome speeds. While they rode, Daera silently observed the Angel's wings, her massive grin dying into a somewhat sad smile. Thankfully, she was facing away and had a helmet on. Her expression was out of view from Harp. Now that Harp was closer to her, actively holding onto her, something somewhat interesting was noticed. Daera was INCREDIBLY muscular. As if she built herself specifically to rip people apart with her bare hands. Her body wasn't made for firearms, swords, axes, crossbows, or anything fancy like that. It seemed her body WAS her weapon.

"Shut it!" Harp called just over the wind and into Daera's leather jacket shocked that her midsection was as toned as it was. The woman smelled like gasoline and sweat with a strong earthy stench of mushrooms. She clung onto her with a scowl from how fast they were going, the wind burning the melted skin on her face. She didn't want to look at their surroundings, fearing that she'd move her wings the wrong way and get them caught in an obstruction and break them.

Her eyes clenched shut as the wind left a trail of spores and feathers behind them.

After driving in silence for a while, weaving through traffic with surprising dexterity and ease, the two reached a tiny corner of Pentagram City. Daera drove her bike into the mouth of a tight alley, rolling to a stop halfway through it. She then took off her helmet, rubbing the bridge of her nose as the exhaustion returned. She then looked at Harp, the saddened expression once again replaced by her false grin

"Hop off. We're on foot from here. Not long to go, though. Just through this alley, and we'll be at my best safe house in Pentagram City."

As she spoke, she walked to a dumpster and kicked its side, causing it to shift a bit. Strangely enough, it wasn't a simple receptacle for trash! The front of it slid to the side, showing a space large enough to stow the bike and helmets. She was well-prepared indeed. Seems she's been a fugitive for a while.

"Whaddya want to eat, by the way? I can make us pretty much anything. I'm a decent cook. Learned it in the Colony. And i'm not talking fingers n tongues. Actual food. Baking, all that. Name it, and I can probably make it."

She rolled the bike into the fake dumpster, and tossed her helmet inside carelessly. She held out her hand for Harp's helmet, seemingly wanting it to handled differently. Something very strange about Harp's helmet.. It didn't smell like Daera. it smelled far different. Old brass, aged whiskey.. And oranges? It was an oddly pleasant mix. It seemed this helmet meant a lot to the cannibal.

Harp’s wings and arms folded, a pesky tell of her discomfort. Lute would reprimand her for emoting in such a way. She made eye contact with Daera but quickly looked away.

“Jello.” She promptly suggested. “Is there jello in Hell? Sometimes we’d get it as a treat after training. I just… want to try it. One last time.” She knew it wouldn’t be the same, wings slumping behind her, humiliated by her own pathetic desires.

Harp took off the sweet-smelling helmet and gave it to Daera, watching her carefully put it away like a precious object. The demon also had tells, she found, especially in her broken smile. Loss weighed on her chest whenever she thought back to Extermination just weeks ago. Wounds that were still open and fresh. How Harp survived, she’d never know.

She had survived what Adam couldn’t.

She would hang the helmet off the handlebar of the bike carefully, making damn sure it wouldn't fall. This helmet was too special to scratch or bang up, it would seem. She then gave Harp a big fake grin, once again hiding that deep-set sadness that seemed to eat away at her. She even reached out, patting Harp's head gently. Not mockingly, but gently. It seemed it was a show of another less violent side.

"Jello sounds delightful Harp! I can make my sour apple jello! Everyone loves it! Or does everyone who's had it loves it? Anyways, sure thing. I can make you some delicious jello. I'll also toss together some light food that'll actually fill you up. I'll make some PB & J? I only have orange marmalade, though. Hope that's fine."

She began walking down the alley, soon coming to an exit in it that revealed a small dilapidated house. She looked at it with a smile, now turned away from Harp. Mostly so the Angel couldn't notice how her smile nearly crumbled or a tear nearly fell. She hadn't been here since.. Ah- Not important. She couldn't show weakness right now, Harp needed support. She walked to the front door, stopping before it. A small statue bust stood to its right, with a hand held out as if grasping towards the sky. Daera held out a hand, a single drop of blood floating out from her outstretched fingers. It bloomed into a small mushroom with seemingly immense density, causing the outstretched hand to lower. As this happened, instead of the front door opening, a staircase appeared right in front of the door leading down into a bunker. The sound of rock music vaguely drifted up, tickling the duo's ears

"I'll teach ya the other way to open it once we fill your stomach, alright Harp? You can make this place your home. Nobody'll bother you here. It's just you 'n me for a few miles."

Harp straightened at the touch as though she were getting inspected by a superior. When nothing further came, she relaxed. She rose a brow at the interesting choice of words, but didn't think much else of it. Each step into the alley betrayed her values but her legs continued forward, grey wings hugging her sides. She couldn't stop looking behind her and preparing to clock anyone who was probably going to ambush her. There was still a small chance this whole thing was full of hungry cannibals.

Weaponless, Harp clenched her fists. She was experienced with hand-to-hand combat, surely she could utilize those skills if it came down to it.

Harp waited for Daera to go through the staircase first, shortly following behind her. "That sounds agreeable," She finally said though a little absently, focusing on her trembling fists. "I would like to make it. I'm perfectly capable of doing so." She would be a fool if she'd let Daera make it for her.

She walked down first, humming as she walked. The music seemed to embrace them, thrumming around them with its beautiful cacophony. She shook her head at Harp's words, speaking in a soft voice still. One unbefitting her appearance. One that seemed far too tender.

"Take a load off, Harp. Rest. You've been through a lot, and you need it. If it makes you feel better, I can cook it in front of you so you know I didn't poison it or putting anything in it."

She entered the bunker as a whole, exposing a rather cozy-looking aesthetic. Posters of bands were on the walls, and cozy couches were strewn about the place. There was a picture on one of the tables, of a group of eight people. Daera was in the center, holding the hand of a far shorter demon who looked up at her with affection in the tiny demoness's eye. As she walked past, she placed the picture facing down. Obscuring it from Harp's view before it could be inspected further than a cursory glance. She walked to a fridge, pulling out ingredients and a big bowl of already made bright green jello. She placed a big spoon in it, and then set it on one of the tables by the couch

"Welcome to Mother Bunker. My home away from home away from home. This place is my refuge, and now it's yours too. You can stay here as long as you want, Harp. Nobody'll bother you other than yours truly."

She began making sandwiches in plain view, making damn sure Harp could watch what she was doing. She didn't wanna put the angel in any more distress than she already was.

Harp had last slept on the marble floor of the Embassy covered in lounge cushions. The couch looked inviting for her to rest but the feeling of being a guest in a stranger's home left her statuesque. Her eyes scanned her surroundings, quickly looking away as though she had been caught looking at something she wasn't supposed to see.

Her wings fluttered when she saw the jello. There was a lot in the massive bowl and the toned angel didn't eat much. Harp treaded carefully as though she were on the battlefield with mines right below her waiting to explode. Mechanically she sat on the couch, her heavy body immediately sinking into it.

The posters felt familiar though the stars featured on them were adorned with horns and fangs instead of angels. She used her ungloved finger to poke the jello, watching the ripples throughout the bowl as she debated on eating it. She had apparently been doing it for some time in silence because when she looked up again, Daera was there with the promised sandwich.

"Nobody but you, huh? What about that business deal, is that part of this?" Harp sat stationary on the deep-set couch, shoulders back and straight.

For a few moments, Daera didn't answer. Lost in her own world til she remembered Harp had asked a question. She spoke, her voice unusually tender. It cracked a bit, but other than that remained the same. A gentle voice that somehow wormed its way into one's head with its tones

"No, this is unrelated. I'm gonna put off the deal for a while. Harp, please. Just relax. If I wanted you dead, why would I go out of my way to get you from the embassy? If I wanted to hurt you, why would I turn my back to you and let you ride on my bike?"

She finished the orange marmalade and peanut butter sandwiches, having a plate stacked four high. She brought it over to Harp, setting it on the table in front of her beside the jello. She then sat in a chair, far enough away from Harp so she'd feel more comfortable. Each step Daera took, though, Harp could see her body shaking. Something was off about Daera. Not in a dangerous 'this could hurt me' way, but in a more mundane way. It showed a side of Daera that only eight had seen before. Exhausted. Worn, and broken. She gave Harp a smile, but not the toothy grin. It was a smile full of understanding.

"If you wanna know why I'm doing this, I can tell you. Because I wanna. It's a selfish thing, but I see myself in you. Something in me keeps thinking that if I can help you, maybe I can be helped too. Weird, huh?"

"You tell a solider to relax." Harp muttered, seeming to finally get that she wasn't in danger with a scoff. "It's true that you saved me, but this could be a honey pot of cannibals who want me smothered in barbecue. I'm a hot commodity down here, I watched how you cannibals worked on my sisters."

She sighed deeply, ruffling her hair with her feet parallel on the floor. Her paranoia was getting her nowhere. "Anyway, you don't look like you're well enough for a fight. Why don't you eat one of those mushrooms?" If she had the ability, she would be self-medicating all the time.

Harp gingerly wrapped her ungloved fingers around the edge of one of the sandwiches and nibbled the corner of it. Her stomach growled in response which made her tense- a sign of life inside the statue. She bit down in small bites as if she could hide her need to eat. She was quiet as Daera revealed her motive. What a miserable demon.

Yet her wings slumped as she ate, swallowing before speaking again. "Virtuous of you. Unfortunately, I don't deserve it. Or anything, for that matter."

She held out a hand, mycelium climbing up from her palm. As soon as it was maintained for a few seconds, she winced as a pain in her head surged. The flora disintegrated, turning to dust. She spoke in the same tired voice, watching Harp eat with a small smile

"I ain't liked by most Cannibals. The only few I get along with are Rosie and Alastor, and maybe Elizabeth. Even if I begged, they'd probably ignore me. And 'bout the mushrooms... Making em takes a lot of effort. Imagine making micro-calculations to grow a single spore into a massive mushroom while balancing its genetic information precariously so it doesn't implode. It takes a lot of brainpower, and i'm not the smartest. Mushrooms are outta my reach at the moment."

She placed her head back against the headrest, closing her eye and sighing, hearing the self-deprecation that Harp spoke. Her words came a bit sharply, far more harsh than she intended. It just brought back a lot of memories, of someone broken like Harp. She mirrored her right before she met Ivy a bit too much..

"I get to decide what I give you. Be it affection or anger. I chose mercy. I chose affection because I believe you deserve it. I get to decide what I do with myself, and I've decided to help you. Everyone deserves redemption."

There was something she said with a sardonic smile, beneath her breath. Something Harp could barely hear, but caught it all the same.

"Everyone but me."

Great. They were both functionally useless. Harp nodded and took a bite of the jello, nibbling the tip of the spoon with caution. The taste was extremely sour, but she ate it like it was nothing.

She could picture herself in the mess hall with her sisters chattering around her. Harp prodded the jiggly substance with a plastic spork. The memory was identical to many of her other ones, sitting alone at a table while more chatty exorcists laughed and gossiped around her. But they were her sisters and she'd give her life for them. Just as they would for her. That was their creed.

Harp's chest felt hollow at the memory, though perked up at the last comment Daera made. She placed the bowl of jello onto the table. She snorted and then laughed at the Dollie. "By God, we're both the fucking same. I'm just as bad as the most pathetic of hellborns. Lute was right, Adam should have lived instead of his stupid foot-soldier. And redemption? Going back to Heaven? That's a fucking riot, neither of us are going up there. Lute made it clear to me."

She had her head in her hands.

Daera slowly rose, nearly stumbling and falling from the exhaustion permeating her very being. Despite this struggle, she still moved. She sat beside Harp, smiling still. Never making a move to touch her, but instead speaking quietly

"I won't say bullshit like 'don't put yourself down like that'.. But Harp, it happened. It's in the past. Even if it's hard to move on from, it doesn't need to chain you down. Lute already broke your chains, whether you wanted it or not. Just.. Rest. You deserve that, at the very least. If you want, I can leave the bunker so you don't have to worry about me attacking you in your sleep. Which I wouldn't, ever. It's too cowardly."

She took one of the sandwiches she'd made and took a bite, nearly bursting into tears at the familiar flavor. She pushed the emotions back, not wanting to make her guest more uncomfortable than she already was. It was the least she could do for a lost soul like Harp. She then stood up on shaking legs, still slowly eating the sandwich as she walked over to the stairs they'd descended to enter the bunker earlier. She leaned against the wall, waiting for the word from Harp. If Harp wanted her gone, so she could think.. She'd leave. If Harp wanted her to stay, so they could talk? She'd do so.

"You've been through a lot since Extermination. Too much, for a sheltered Angel bred for battle. If you need help processing, i'm here. I've been through it too. I may not be as good as Rosie at this, but I can help."

The angel frowned beneath her hands. Without looking up, Harp addressed the demon. "I was kicked out of my home, I'm not about to do the same to someone else. Stay." She took one of the sandwiches with her on the couch, curling up and nibbling on it behind her wings to shield herself. She ate slowly in small bites, letting silence fill the room.

When she was finished, her grey wings outstretched, her wingspan reaching each end of the couch. Like a blanket her wings tenderly folded over her and she went on her side across the couch. Harp's golden eye appeared darkened and half-lidded. "You're talking way too much now. You're not my life's narrator, Daerlaf, fuck." She closed her eyes and sighed, letting herself sink into the cushions. Her back was killing her, especially around her wings.

Now with something in her stomach, she didn't care if she was killed or not. Harp reached in her pocket and pulled out what remained of a mushroom she was given. The white and gold stump had been nibbled on, stimulating her regenerative cells. Harp's hand went to her stomach and she felt the wound there absently.

"Does this help you? Or is it only me?" Harp offered the rest of the mushroom to her.

Daera moved herself back to a nearby chair, dropping her tired body into it. Her eye squeezed closed, fighting against the pulse in her brain that seemed to shock her system. Upon hearing the offer, she gave a small smile to Harp. Her tone was a bit light, almost as if she was a bit high. Honestly, she was just loopy from the exhaustion

"Nah. Those shrooms are effective only for angels. Plus, you're hurt. And, Harp... Do you want a massage? I can help your back relax. I can tell by the movements of your wings that the muscles are tired and strained. If you slept with them like that now, it could cramp up and be very sore when you wake up."

She reached into her pocket, pulling out a knife. She then walked over to Harp, holding it out for the Angel to take. The knife looked quite strange, made of some kind of orange metal that faded into purple. Like a sunset..

"And here. You need some kinda weapon til I can get my hands on something that actually fits you. Just don't stab me with it. That shit hurts."

She lowered herself onto the floor beside Harp's sofa, taking another bite from the sandwich. It was strange... The food was tasty, it was genuinely great.. But it didn't scratch that itch. It didn't stop the agonizing hunger that wracked Daera's mind with every moment of every day. Usually, she could make one of her substitute mushrooms.. But she was completely out of energy to do something like that. So she simply suffered through the painful stomach cramps, letting out a slightly annoyed groan

Harp took the knife and strapped it to her thigh. She was still in her Exorcist uniform complete with angelic steel around her neck. She was uncomfortable to say the least but refused to take off her protective wear, not caring that it indented itself into her skin. She smelled like sweat, blood, and musk.

"Do you have a shower around here?" She figured she could re-wear her uniform afterward but the dried blood on her shirt was a reminder of the Extermination. Her skin itched from not showering. She secretly hoped that the exhausted cannibal would rest while she was in the shower.

Daera pointed to a door nearby, which seemed oddly ornate for the underground bunker. She also rose to her feet slowly, walking to the fridge to see if she had any leftover simshrooms. She needed fucking something to curb the hunger. She didn't want Harp to notice. That could be annoying..

"Yeah, through there. Stocked with damn near everything you need. I'll find some clothes that fitchya. If I can't find em, then I can adjust em. What're your measurements?"

It was question asked with no ill intentions, followed by Daera popping a dark red mushroom into her mouth and swallowing it. For a moment, it chased that hellacious hunger away. She walked to a closet embedded in the wall, opening it to reveal a wardrobe of similar clothes to her own. Lots of leather, lots of band shirts, and plenty of black and white. Even some chokers, too.

"I'll pick some of these out and fix em up for ya. That way we can wash up and fix that exterminator shit."

"I'm 34B, over-bust 35-36 30-31, under-bust 29-30 32-33. I have a 28 inch waist, 5 inch wrist circumference, I'm around a size 6." Harp promptly answered with all sorts of militaristic flare minus a salute. Harp followed Daera's line of sight to the closet, seeing the clothes making something in her heart flutter. Wordlessly, she nodded, ignoring the gnawing on her heart for now until she could shower.

When she got to the shower she let down her white hair and placed the hair tie on her wrist. She was unsure about undressing, peeling off her precious uniform and laying it on the floor. The golden stain in her mid-section was dry and crusted which made her body feel filthy. She threw off the rest of her clothes and managed to work the shower, not caring about the temperature.

Harp struggled with the neck protector the most, still having it on as the water hit her body. The burns all over her body stung at just the medium setting, so she turned it on cold, twisting her body around to get herself soaked. She stripped off the neck protector slowly with a groan, finding that it stuck to her skin. Tears formed in her eyes as she tried to part with the angelic steel, it slowly unsticking from the tattered skin. The last part of her uniform she had yet to discard. In one measly rip she threw it over the shower curtain hanger.

That's when the tears poured fresh from her eyes. The saltiness stung her disfigured face.

By the time she was finished, Harp was shivering from the severe cold. She didn't deserve anything else. Covering her body with a large towel she exited the room, not really caring that she was naked. When she entered the room, she noticed Daera had left for a moment and she helped herself to the closet. When Daera returned, the angel had on a red band shirt with an oversized black leather jacket complete with loose, black pants instead of black jeans as she wanted some comfort before going to sleep. She was curled on the couch tending to her wings by drying them off with the towel.

When Daera returned, it was once again in poor condition. This time, notably worse than before. She was covered in blood, her fists being the worst of it. Her shirt had a huge black stain, shot through with some small white lines. Her blood..? Now that she was in brighter light, there was a small dime-sized hole in her chest, constantly leaking out that strange black and white liquid. She strode forward, holding a few sets of fitting clothes in similar design to what the closet had. The thick scent of old brass, aged whiskey, and oranges cascaded off them in a pleasant aroma. Daera set them near Harp, trying not to groan with each step

"Got some more clothes that'll fit nicely. Some less desirable folk didn't want to give them up. Wear them well."

There was a deeper meaning to that last sentence. Daera's voice cracked when she said it, hinting at a darker shade to her bright and violent personality. She grabbed a basic band shirt and baggy sweatpants, looking at the tighter yoga pants she had stashed with longing. Then, she turned towards the bathroom and walked that way. She took her sweet time in the bathroom, making sure to properly patch herself up and wrap her body correctly in bandages. When she finally came out, she looked damn close to death's door. Metaphorically, and somewhat literally. She seemed even paler than before, and each step seemed to require her full attention. She fell face-first onto one of the sofas, groaning at the comfort it provided

"You need help with your wings? I know a thing or two about maintaining 'em. A friend of mine had a set of pretty blue ones. Though.. I guess his were corvid wings. Anyways, need help?"

She rolled onto her side, perching her head on the heel of her hand to look over at Harp.

"Do demons always look like they're on Death's doorstep? You look like shit." Harp noticed the bullet hole and wondered why angels didn't use guns. She could only imagine what kind of weaponry angels would have in the next Extermination. She fussed with her feathers out of frustration, pulling some out and setting them on the table.

"You could probably make something out of that. Demons are thirsty for every part of me, feathers included." Harp was giving herself away, her neck guard piled on the table along with the feathers.

Daera laughed, resting for a bit longer. Her mind was slowly clearing up, just enough to pop one of her medshrooms. She created the mycelium from her fingertip, growing it out and into a green and blue button mushroom. After it fully grew, she ate it and swallowed. The color that had left her suddenly returned, allowing her to think easier and move better. She stood up, speaking sarcastically

"Nah. The place i went to was an old safehouse that some assholes found. They were trenched in, and I was tired. Took a few hits. Here, let me."

She sat across from Harp, summoning dozens of small strings of her mycelium. She then held out a hand, requesting permission from Harp. She didn't want this angel ruining her wings because she wasn't too used to cleaning them up after a long time of them being dirtied. They were too lovely to look at for something of that sort.

"I don't want any bits of you, Harp."

She gave a small pause, a small smile on her lips as she offered her assistance

"I want to help you feel better, even if it's only a little bit. I may be a demon, a shitty cannibal, but I wanna use my time to help you heal. Mentally, and physically. Cleaning is a good step for both."

Harp couldn't look the demon in her eye, keeping her gaze adverted as she spoke. She watched the mushrooms grow from Daera's fingertips with disbelief. "How are you going to clean my wings with mushrooms?"

She held her wings close to herself, but ultimately allowed the demon to touch her wings. The wing was held out hesitantly, the outer feathers sticking out like a hand reaching out to meet Daera.

"Mushrooms are incredibly versatile. There are some that can explode, some that can inebriate, and some that generate electricity. It isn't too hard that makes one that can generate a small amount of heat their their caps, to essentially blowdry you."

She hummed gently as she conducted the mycelium, fungal blooms appearing along it at regular intervals. The soft heat coming from these caps was oddly nice, like that of a warm sun removing the interference of water. In the gradual fashion that she cranked the heat, the inner layers were the first to dry. Then the outer. It was a strange technique, but one that worked. She carefully wrapped the lines of red and pink mushrooms around the wing, allowing them to rest there to finish the drying process. She then leaned forward, a somewhat worried look on her face

"Harp, can you look at me? I need to check your eye. I saw that it was blind in the video, I wanna make sure it isn't swelling or causing further damage. Is that okay? I'll have to get rather close, though. So, only if you're comfortable with it Birdie."

The angel held her breath, her teeth digging into her lower lip the closer the demon got to her. The knife she was given was within reach and her body screamed at her to take out Daera's good eye, but the charity she had been provided gave her a conflict in her heart. The wings had dried and even felt good like the sensation of a blow-dryer.

She covered her bad eye with her hand, sinking back. "I washed it out, it's worthless now. Don't you have a mushroom for it?"

"I can't regrow complex organs like that, Harp.. And it isn't worthless. YOU aren't worthless. Thats what the world wants you to think, but YOU get to decide what you're worth. And in my eyes, you're worth more than any stupid business venture I can think of. I can ease the pain. It won't be invasive, I just need to touch the site."

She paused, holding a hand out to show the mushroom she planned on using. A brown bean-shaped one, with light green spots. It looked like the mushroom Daera ate when regenerating her own body.. But she knew its' effects would be immensely limited when used on Harp

"This is a modified reishi mushroom. Topside, it's used as a painkiller. I adjusted it so that it helps heal as well. The latter effect will be limited, but the painkiller one is enhanced in this shroom specifically. I plan on making an ointment, and doing some basic first-aid on you. Would that be okay?"

Her voice was soft, far gentler than anything before. It was almost... Pleading? Pleading, yeah.. Pleading for Harp to allow herself some assistance. It was something so unsuited for Daera. The violent cannibal demon. The woman who knocked out a whole crowd just because they were in the way. Yet.. It sounded real. It sounded as if it came from the deepest parts of her corrupted soul

"I promise you, I won't hurt you. You deserve help, not wallowing in misery while everyone lusts over your blood. Let me be that help."

She took a pause, speaking in an even quieter tone

"If you let me help you, I'll tell you something about me that would surprise you. And might make you see me differently."

Harp's gaze went to the over-turned photo-- she had a good guess as to what it could be. She stared at the mushroom and then finally made eye contact with Daera. Her pleading tone reminded of her despaired wails in the Embassy and she could see the sincerity in her black gaze. She sighed and nodded, leaning her head forward. What did she have to lose?

"Just be careful... Please." She wasn't one to ask for mercy but with such a sensitive wound she hoped that if this was an ambush it would go by swiftly.

Daera gently took Harp's face in her hand, channeling her power to manipulate the mushroom and activate its abilities. The mushroom suddenly morphed into a glowing green paste, which she carefully applied around the edges of the burn. She then used a strand of mycelium, reaching into the kitchen and retrieving a first-aid kit. She plucked a bandage out, and placed it very gently over Harp's eye. Sealing the healing solution to be absorbed. The relief as almost instant, the site beginning to numb and become distant. Daera's hands were rough. Calluses covered them, making them somewhat uncomfortable to be placed on Harp's face.. But even that soon faded, as Daera removed her hand and gave the angel a smile.

"There. Quick and easy, right? Ointment, then bandage. It'll also disinfect, too. Over time, it'll help your body reconnect the misfiring nerves and lessen the constant pain from the burn. Just don't remove the eyepatch for a few days, please?"

She sat back on the couch, summoning another line of the heating mushrooms to wrap around Harp's other wing. She'd only done one before the little first-aid stint, so she'd finish her job real quick. Which she did. Then she relaxed a bit beside Harp, the gentle smile becoming somewhat somber

"My word is my word. I call myself a badass cannibal bitch, but honestly? One of those things isn't quite true anymore. I haven't eaten meat of any kind since I.. Mm. Since I met some people. I still feel the hunger, the agonizing pain of starving and dying, but I refuse to bend. It won't fade any time soon, or ever, but I'll endure. Been sober since before the extermination. Well.. The previous extermination. Before the latest one."

She wasn't going to expose another deep secret for now. Harp didn't trust her, and she understood that. She wouldn't make her. Trust was to be gained.

The relief hit Harp like a ton of bricks, her shoulders finally relaxing into the couch. The burn had been one of the many pains on her mind but thanks to the white and gold shrooms she had been nibbling on, the pain lessened significantly. Harp wanted to pass out right then and there, or at least curl up into a protective ball and meditate for a while. With enough effort she could pretend Heaven wasn’t thousands of miles away.

Daera had claimed that she didn’t eat angels before this, that she wasn’t like other cannibals and had no interest in eating her. Yet the prospect of being sold off to someone else was at the forefront of her mind. With Harp now smelling like cocoa butter and shampoo, she hoped that at least what remained of her would be a good meal for someone.

“Why are you holding back? Is it some kind of demonic oath?” She didn’t know if demons had oaths the way angels had. “Why would you deny your own nature?”

Daera's voice dropped low, her eye shutting. For a moment, it looked like.. She was on the verge of tears? Hah, no way. Must've been seeing things! But.. If that was true.. What a pussy.

"It's simple, Harp. Cuz I don't want that to be me. Someone important guided me from the throes of addiction. It's my job to persevere to honor that person's image."

She exhaled, opening her eye to reveal a flash of immense rage. Rage that broiled like the depths of a volcano, ready to explode outward at a moment's notice... And then that rage disappeared too. She looked over at Harp with a small smile, speaking calmly

"Hey, Harp.. I'll keep you safe. Until you feel better. Until you regain your purpose. I'll heal your wounds and listen to your woes. You deserve that."

She beamed at Harp, giving her a big toothy smile. It was the first big smile that had been real. The first one in months. Maybe years. It showed the slight dimples at the edge of her mouth, the straining of the scar that stretched across her face. It was a big smile, but one she meant. She also commented without really thinking much of it;

"You smell very nice, by the way."

Harp didn't know what to do with all the compliments and reassurances, having never had such treatment. It didn't feel real to her, yet there she was, with fresh clothes that smelt worn, food that made Daera cry, and shelter that reminded her of a group that was no longer in her life because of one reason or another.

Harp knew Daera was compensating for something big, something that destroyed her life. If she should mention it was debatable as one wrong conversation could possible land her at the mercy of the rest of Hell with only a pocket knife. Her pale skin illuminated in pink at the compliment. "It's your shampoo I used, of course you'd think it's nice."

Once her wings were dry, Harp pulled them back behind her back. She wanted to rest more than anything, to somehow wake up in Heaven as a Winner. The desire bubbled in her chest--what had she done to be put into Hell? Who was she before the Exterminations? The more she tried to remember, the bigger the blanks being drawn were. Harp's expression grew forlorn and fatigued, her knees up to her chest and her chin resting on her kneecaps.

Daera laughed, running a hand through her hair absentmindedly. She then ran her gaze over Harp, a newfound worry appearing in her eyes. She spoke again, a small smile on her lips moreso as a way of comforting the angel.

"D'ya wanna talk about it? Not to inflate my already overinflated ego, but I'm a great listener. I also like to think I give good advice. I'm all ears Birdie."

She stood up, walking away as she spoke. She approached the clothing closet, pulling out one of the drawers to gain what was inside. She tugged out a folded blanket and a big fluffy pillow. She then lugged both over, dropping the blanket unceremoniously over Harp. She then held out the pillow. Now that it was facing the angel, she could read the text on the pillowcase. Very fitting for something Daera owned. It read 'Baddest Bitch'. In big red letters.

"I'm sure some rest will do you well. I can keep watch over ya and wake you if you have nightmares. Til you doze off, we can chat. You can vent, if you want."

The demon sat back on the floor, her back against the sofa Harp rested on.

Harp took the pillow and stared at it blankly, tracing the capital 'B' in 'Bitch' with her finger. The text elicited an amused nose exhale from her at the very least before she sank on her side, wings flapping and adjusting themselves so they'd rest comfortably on her sides. She wasn't ready to talk.

Harp's eyes closed and she covered her head in the blanket, hoping that with some effort she'd dream about another time in her life.

Not getting a response, Daera laid on the floor right beside the couch. She didn't feel comfortable leaving Harp alone. Not out of paranoia, but out of pure worry. She would remain awake, as best she could. She spoke softly, thought coming to her mind as she felt the exhaustion of the day catching up to her

"Do you ever wanna see the sunset? Like-... An actual sunset. On Earth?"

Her question seemed random, but it seemed to be important to Daera. More important than any she'd asked before. Her throat choked up at the word sunset, causing a faint strain on her tone. She hoped she'd dream of Ivy if she fell asleep.. Those were the best dreams she could get. They made her hunger go away, even if they were just dreams

"Sorry. Random thought. Sleep well Birdie. I'll do my best to wake you from any nightmares if you have 'em."