Demon who took a wrong turn and is getting real nervous about all the angels hanging around.
A shortstack succubus carefully carrying a plate of cookies flattens herself against the wall of the apartment building's corridor, wide-eyed, as an angel walks in the opposite direction. Her eyes flit nervously over the angel's rolled-up sleeves, tousled hair, and polite nod; she smiles nervously back, and scurries onward with renewed speed.
Muttering something under her breath, she rounds a corner, hoisting smile and plate, and freezes at the sight of two more angels, lounging outside an open apartment door.
"Hi," one of them says.
"Sorry I made a wrong turn somewhere!" the succubus says, shuffling backwards.
"Hang on," one of the angels says placatingly, holding her hands up. "It's chill. We're chill. We'll be gone in a minute—"
And then a frazzled-looking demon comes out of the open door, and the succubus draws herself upright with a sharp intake of breath.
"Oh," she says, "oh I see, an infernal expat moves in and you people roll out a welcoming committee, is that it? We're from Downstairs, gotta let us know you've got eyes on us, 'cos you know what we're like?"
"That's not—" one of the angels says, looking embarrassed.
"That's profiling, that's what that is," the succubus says belligerently. "I could complain to your supervisor, not that it would do any good, we all know that, but I could. You're not allowed to just—"
"Bernie?" the angel says helplessly, looking sideways at the demon, who beams at everyone indiscriminately.
"Hi, I'm Bernadette!" she says. "This is Juleia and Sashara! They're actually okay, they came to help carry our furniture up!"
The succubus gives them a deeply distrustful glare, and thrusts the plate out. "Karquoss," she says. "We heard someone from back home was moving here, so I brought you cookies to welcome you."
"That's really sweet of you," Bernie says. "Isn't that sweet?"
"That's really sweet," Juleia says gloomily, hands in her pockets, looking at the plate with the air of someone who knows she's definitely not getting a cookie. "Djulnael will be pleased you've got nice neighbours. Load off her mind when she's not here."
"You want to come in?" Bernie says cheerily. "I'll put on some coffee to go with — did you make these? oh, wow — and you can meet my girlfriend when she comes back up. Seriously, don't worry about these two, they're pussycats."
Karquoss glowers at the angels.
"Maybe we should go and wait in the truck?" Sashara says.
"Yeah," Juleia says. "Don't be a stranger, Bernie — things are gonna be so quiet without you. I've got a whole joke I was going to make about not doing any more ebay scams, but I'd better not in case it gets me reported—"
"Yeah, maybe you'd better not. And stay off Tinder!" Bernadette says.
"I'll keep her out of trouble," Sashara says cheerily, and both Bernadette and Juleia flash her furtively speculative looks.
"Have a cookie," Karquoss says grudgingly, on their way past, and Juleia grabs one and mock-salutes her with it.
"Take care of Bernie for us," she mutters. "Gonna miss her," and then Bernadette latches onto her shirt from behind.
"You heard her, right?" the demon hisses. "Get out there and tap that ass."
"...Sort of going to miss her," Juleia amends, ruffles Bernie's hair, and strolls away after Sashara.
Djulnael makes it back upstairs with the last cardboard box — incorrectly labelled in Bernadette's writing, as they all are, DILDOS — puts it on the kitchen counter, and leans on the doorframe.
Sitting at the kitchen table with coffee, head together with Bernie's, Karquoss pauses their rapid, quiet murmuring and gives Djulnael a long, cool once-over, from her boots to her bare forearms to her still-ruffled hair.
She mutters something, and Bernadette grins, wicked and proud and proprietary.
"Like you wouldn't believe," she says, giving Djulnael bedroom eyes.
"Hm," Karquoss says, and smiles at Djulnael alongside her, polite and hard-eyed. "...I guess. So long as she treats you right."
"Better than anyone ever!" Bernie says, and kicks out the third and final chair that more-or-less fits in the kitchen. "I made you coffee," she adds to Djulnael. "And Karquoss made us housewarming cookies!"
"She must have been looking forward to meeting you," Djulnael says blandly, holding Karquoss's gaze, and slides into the chair with wary, predatory grace.
