Outside the bathroom, one foot braced against the wall and his arms crossed over his chest is an archangel who has been spectacularly MIA the past week and a half or so. He needed time to recharge and Murphy could probably stand some time away from his corrupting influence. Oh wait, he doesn't care about that. ...Really, he's just a cat. He wanders off and then comes back when it suits him and there's really no sense in questioning it.
"Guess this means your brain's still broken, hm?" He asks, as soon as she walks back out.
Gabriel doesn't move when Murphy gets thrown into the wall. The important part of this is to not freak out and, anyway, he's here to beat the snot out of Dobiel, not... Demon-possessed Harrys.
And oh look, there she is.
He barely looks at her. "Hey, sis. How's that whole bein' crazy thing goin' for you? No wait. Lemme guess. Awesome?"
Harry digs the knife in and twists. Murphy screams, blood blooming over her lips, but the sound doesn't reach the two angels.
"How's banging the mortal meat-sack going for you?" She tilts her head and looks up at him, a sweet smile on her face. "Not so good lately, huh. Poor thing."
"Not bad. She does this this great thing with her...Y'know, I don't really wanna have this conversation with you when you look like her. Still a bit too Arkansas for me." He looks back over at Murphy and then promptly decides that there is not for looking.
He arches an eyebrow at Dobiel. "Y'know, she won't be much good to you if she goes crazy and dies, 'cause you won't let her sleep."
"I have to keep myself entertained somehow." Dobiel inspects her handiwork, watching fake-Harry carve symbols into Murphy's arms. "In the little prison you managed to force me into. I'll let her sleep. Eventually. I'm not just trying to break her, you know."
"Coulda fooled me. What with the havin' her tortured by her friend thing over there, but, hey, it's your party. Oh, by the way? If you need entertainment, read a book."
The light mocking sarcasm is evolving into not-so-light sarcasm. Gabriel's about ready to open up some dream whoopass here.
"Oh, this is mostly for your benefit." She's still smiling at him, looking perfectly at ease despite his change in tone. "The little torture display. It's certainly more overt than I've been, but hell, when you're rearranging someone's psychology, you need to be delicate."
Dobiel watches Harry outline Murphy's ribs in lines of blood. "Try and hurt me, Gabriel. You're in my playground right now."
"Okay. One: that's cheating," he says, darkly, yet still evenly, holding up a finger as he tics off. "Two: One of these days, I'm gonna kill you. And I'm only gonna feel a little bit bad about it."
He takes a step towards her- he's simpering, but he's eyes are glowering. "Now let her go before I have to resort to pulling your pigtails."
"Oh, look who's talking. Like you've never cheated before." She sighs dramatically. "What are you going to do, Gabriel? It's either free me or spend a lifetime of nights safeguarding her mind, and if you free me--well."
She spreads her arms and smiles sadly. "Alas, the impossible choice."
Harry vanishes. Murphy drops to the ground, sputtering blood, the sounds of her dream pouring over the two visitors. Murphy shudders, hands pressed against a hole in her side big enough to show organs. She stares into space, apparently oblivious to Dobiel and Gabriel both. Dobiel twirls a finger in Murphy's direction. "Go on. Be the hero. She's the only one who thinks of you that way."
"Find another human, Dobiel. I found this one first," he almost growls. And then she's gone and he just scowls at the spot she just left.
"I take that back. I'm not gonna feel bad at all," he snaps, before turning on his heels and practically appearing at Murphy's side. "Hang in there, Murph. You're gonna wake up now."
He places a hand on her forehead, focusing. Yeah, this is the closest he's ever gotten to doing the angel thing in awhile.
Murphy shudders awake, looking up at Gabriel with hollow eyes. "Guess that didn't work," she says. She clears her throat. "Where did you go? When Harry--"
She pauses and shakes her head. "When that thing came out of the basement, you disappeared. Was it her? Dobiel?"
"Yep. That was her. And I'm gonna kill her." Nothing like that should sound so cheerful, but this is Gabriel we're talking about. "Somehow. Don't quote me on the how yet."
He slides off the bed and starts meandering around the room. "She says she's trapped. No clue on the where or the how, but she says I did it, so... Somethin' must've went..."
Murphy sits up. "Something must've went huh what?"
She rubs her eyes, gingerly touching the spot where not-Harry took a chunk out of her side. It aches like an old bruise. "You're not serious, are you? About killing her?"
Murphy drags her feet over the edge of the bed and sit there with her forehead resting on her knees.
He points at the mirror. "We fell through that when I shoved you through. I bet dollars to donuts that she got stuck in there."
He doesn't look at her, still studying every angle of the mirror, rubbing his chin. "And yeah, I'm about as serious about that as I am about anything... Oh wait. Bad comparison. I meant, I'm more serious about that."
Murphy barely reacts to the mention of the mirror, instead fixing on the second part. "She's your sister."
That comes out with a vehemence she can't really explain. Murphy pulls back, surprised at herself. "Sorry. I didn't--" She shakes her head, like she's driving off a daze. "So anyway, what do we do? Break the mirror? Stick it in a back room somewhere with a sign that says 'warning, possessed by a crazy angel'?"
Gabriel whirls on Murphy, practically snapping. "Yeah and in case you've forgotten, I've got family blood on my hands. What's a little more. Huh? All for you, Murphy."
When she pulls back, he doesn't quite, still looking irritated. His metaphorical feathers have gotten ruffled. "Don't break it. Whatever you do with it, don't do that. I'm all for lockin' it up somewhere. Gettin' it out of your room would be a start."
"Guess this means your brain's still broken, hm?" He asks, as soon as she walks back out.
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And oh look, there she is.
He barely looks at her. "Hey, sis. How's that whole bein' crazy thing goin' for you? No wait. Lemme guess. Awesome?"
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Harry digs the knife in and twists. Murphy screams, blood blooming over her lips, but the sound doesn't reach the two angels.
"How's banging the mortal meat-sack going for you?" She tilts her head and looks up at him, a sweet smile on her face. "Not so good lately, huh. Poor thing."
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He arches an eyebrow at Dobiel. "Y'know, she won't be much good to you if she goes crazy and dies, 'cause you won't let her sleep."
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The light mocking sarcasm is evolving into not-so-light sarcasm. Gabriel's about ready to open up some dream whoopass here.
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Dobiel watches Harry outline Murphy's ribs in lines of blood. "Try and hurt me, Gabriel. You're in my playground right now."
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He takes a step towards her- he's simpering, but he's eyes are glowering. "Now let her go before I have to resort to pulling your pigtails."
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She spreads her arms and smiles sadly. "Alas, the impossible choice."
Harry vanishes. Murphy drops to the ground, sputtering blood, the sounds of her dream pouring over the two visitors. Murphy shudders, hands pressed against a hole in her side big enough to show organs. She stares into space, apparently oblivious to Dobiel and Gabriel both. Dobiel twirls a finger in Murphy's direction. "Go on. Be the hero. She's the only one who thinks of you that way."
With that, the angel vanishes.
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"I take that back. I'm not gonna feel bad at all," he snaps, before turning on his heels and practically appearing at Murphy's side. "Hang in there, Murph. You're gonna wake up now."
He places a hand on her forehead, focusing. Yeah, this is the closest he's ever gotten to doing the angel thing in awhile.
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She pauses and shakes her head. "When that thing came out of the basement, you disappeared. Was it her? Dobiel?"
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He slides off the bed and starts meandering around the room. "She says she's trapped. No clue on the where or the how, but she says I did it, so... Somethin' must've went..."
He stops in front of the mirror. "...Huh."
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She rubs her eyes, gingerly touching the spot where not-Harry took a chunk out of her side. It aches like an old bruise. "You're not serious, are you? About killing her?"
Murphy drags her feet over the edge of the bed and sit there with her forehead resting on her knees.
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He doesn't look at her, still studying every angle of the mirror, rubbing his chin. "And yeah, I'm about as serious about that as I am about anything... Oh wait. Bad comparison. I meant, I'm more serious about that."
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That comes out with a vehemence she can't really explain. Murphy pulls back, surprised at herself. "Sorry. I didn't--" She shakes her head, like she's driving off a daze. "So anyway, what do we do? Break the mirror? Stick it in a back room somewhere with a sign that says 'warning, possessed by a crazy angel'?"
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When she pulls back, he doesn't quite, still looking irritated. His metaphorical feathers have gotten ruffled. "Don't break it. Whatever you do with it, don't do that. I'm all for lockin' it up somewhere. Gettin' it out of your room would be a start."
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