Odell
◆ "I guess so, but unlike cats snakes actively seek out eggs in the wild. After all, man, it's a free meal, eggs can't fight back." No shit, Margo. Of course eggs are free meals for snakes. Looking down at Alaw, she couldn't help but smile at the little gal as she puttered around the pair, nervously calculating whether the blueberries gently held out were worth the risk. Obviously, it seemed to be so, since the calico had brushed up against Owen's hand. "Hey, look at that... She's actually grabbing one from your hand. She's beautiful, isn't she? Also... Honestly, I think Cosmo would love you. Sadie's still kind of nervous about being handled, unfortunately, so..."

□ Trailing off, she fixed her gaze back on the slim cat, her eyes peering back nervously for a few moments before looking back at Owen, who'd clearly been working to gain her trust more. It wasn't painful for her to see the cat showing more familiarity with the lad; she knew, after all, that animals often weren't initially trusting of humans from her own experiences raising and befriending reptiles. Unlike a reptile, though, it seemed to be easier to gauge how a cat was feeling, and she could tell the cat was a little wary, still.

▪︎ Oh well. She had every right to be skittish.

◆ "Heh, guess so, huh?" Margo chuckled. "Though at this point it's more of a toss-up between Glaswegian and Brooklynite. It's distinct, though, and it's something my whole family has going on. My father... I hate to say anything about the fucker, but he once threw a glass bottle at Margaret Thatcher in the 80s. Might be the only thing I agree with him on..."
Phyllis
"Hah! Broken clock's hit one of his two minutes, hasn't it."

*Yes! Joke landed! A blueberry, for congratulations,* Squeaked the ever-nervous voice in Owen's head. Eugh, this one was squishy. A momentary sour expression curled his features, before the tickle of the tip of a nervous tail against his leg brought back his previously goofy expression. 

Said leg had the oddest markings, he thought. He remembered back when they were bigger, when the Lichtenberg figures had snaked all the way around his limbs, when his skin felt like it had been sliced off by a lightsaber with all the ease of peeling a potato with a razor blade. Now, all that remained were fainter red trails that only he could tell the difference in texture in; they wound down to the tops of his feet and then the nasty twisted patches on the pads of his feet where Zeus' fury had left him. He wondered if the little cat ignoring them thought anything of them, or if she just thought the marks were part of his weird pink coat.

Idly, still, he traced a trail with his finger. *How bizarre,* He thought, for no reason in particular. Ooh, this next blueberry was perfect.

"Must be weird for her, eh? All the big scary furless things with the freaky *Meow*S want to do is feed her blueberries," He mused, half zoned-out. "Imagine, what if all those angels wanted was to ensure we had enough donuts and scratches behind the ears instead of, uh, *Cleansing*."

That thought made him snort. The mental image, though probably *Literally* Blasphemous, was a little funny despite it all.
Odell
◇ Rather than saying anything, Margo simply hummed in agreement.

□ She didn't want to talk about her father. She wasn't even sure *Why* She mentioned one of his many boasts, something he claimed he'd done when he was a young bricklayer working in some Scottish border town months after graduating from trade school. She didn't give a shit about his past, and as far as she was concerned he shouldn't have had a future after the mauling she'd gave him. Out of the blue, though, she felt a breeze blowing her hair about lightly, and the sensation of her slightly greasy hair brushing against her neck snapped her out of the fuming pit she'd dropped into.

▪︎ She needed something to soothe her nerves; she dropped the blueberry and fished out her pack of smokes, alongside a black Bic lighter she'd bought and drawn rough glyphs all over with White-Out.

◆ "I. I've been researching those angels, actually." Margo calmly replied as she fished a cigarette out and lit it betwixt her lips. "And I don't know what to make of them anymore. Obviously those halos are the source of their magic and of their murderous rampages, but... Where the hell are the halos coming from? And how did that Annika girl break hers? It's only a natural assumption that she's..." She paused for a moment, dragging and puffing out a thin wispy cloud of smoke. "Managed to break hers, because she's missing and they're all looking for her pretty hard."

• "Anyways, yeah, it's gotta be weird to be Alaw right now. God knows I'd be freaked out in her situation, too, if I was going about my shit and two giants started offering me berries. I'd probably croak on the spot."
Phyllis
"Mm? Research? How would you even go about researching something like that.." A squint, to give off the impression that he was thinking about it. A habit, probably not necessary here- his blank thinking face had given the opposite impression many times before, but he got the feeling it wasn't really needed with Margo.

"Free berries are free berries though, hah."

A long, dark reddish lock spilled out from its place tucked behind Owen's ear. It dangled in front of his face, brushing the grass a little ways from Alaw. He had meant to sit up and straighten his back- it really did sort of ache from being hunched over- but instead, he held his breath and watched the breeze gently nudge it.

The cat watched too, stock-still save for her flicking tail. Owen risked a small smile toward her, careful to avoid looking her in the eyes. Hers were green, he noticed- sharp green eyes, stalking the big bad coil of loose copper.

"What're you gonna do with that, poppet?"

His voice was a whisper, his excitement given away by freckled fingers fiddling away in the grass. Maybe what he was hoping for was some cartoony pipe dream, but what was the worst that could come from hoping? Something cute happening? He was already flat on his rear, he figured.

A tiny claw swiped at could-be-a-squirrel, and Owen let himself giggle a little.
Odell
◆ "Newspaper archives, little-known investigative blogs, so on and so forth." Margo shrugged, the combination of the lollipop *And* The cigarette proving to be a very strange mix of flavours and aesthetics. Childhood sweet tooth and adolescent self-destruction. What a clash. "Sure, the archives cost money, but I've got more than I know what to do with, and my Swedish is pretty decent at this point so I can at least *Understand* What's written. Turns out if you dig enough there's multiple articles that all seem to share the modus operandi of the Angels. Or, at least what we can *Infer* As such."

□ Speaking quietly and with a distinctly speculative drawl, it was clear she wasn't entirely sure if those reports and blog posts she'd read about vicious murders and hearsay of angels in the midst could reasonable be connected to those lunatics in the industrial park. However, there was at least enough evidence that she had a few connected together, in a journal stuffed deep into the crevices of her couch, and she was almost certain that they'd strike again. Looking over at Alaw, she watched as the emerald-eyed beauty curiously looked up at Owen and his copper hair.

▪︎ Now that the cat seemed a little less interested in her, she stood back up and dropped the berry to the ground.

◆ "How long have you been at this?' She asked after a few moments of watching her roommate's totally-not-boyfriend try his best to gain the cat's trust.