Canary was having a particularly rough day. She and her invisible companions were left to their own devices when one of her famed episodes were triggered by the sight of a mother walking with her daughter along the street, hand in hand. Angel and Reaper both sensed the rising offness within their shared body while the woman's multicolored eyes were focused on the family. They tried to draw her attention away from the fuzzy memories that wiggled their way into Canary's mind.
Reaper cracked a ridiculous joke that she didn't hear. Angel tried to point something else out to her, but she was thoroughly trapped within the sadness that slowly began to engulf her. Thankfully, she'd turned her back on the pair, speedily walking away. The two voices in her head started to move away from their attempts at distracting her, outright asking her if she was okay, if she needed anything, if one of them should take over, and so on. The questions, mixed with her need for a quiet place to sit down and cry herself into oblivion, were overwhelming her.
A hand shot to her head, mussing up the long strands of white and gold hair, her fingers pressing into her scalp a bit roughly.
"Shut up, shut up, shut up-" She hissed breathlessly, eyes fogging up with tears. Canary wanted quiet, she wanted to be alone, she didn't want to be hounded with a dozen questions from her disembodied companions.
She picked up on the vaguest suggestion that she summon the Warden, seeing as it had helped her before. But she didn't want to burden it or interrupt its work.
So, she stumbled over to a nearby alley, barely making it a few steps inside before she sunk onto her knees, a sob breaking loose. Her wings dropped, hitting the ground behind her with a gentle 'thud.'
She missed her own family. Her memories of her time spent with them were blurred, but she knew she'd been close with them. In her time of need, when she'd gone to them as nothing more than a panicked mess, they'd shunned her. They'd thrown her out and slammed the door on her face, accusing her of not being their baby girl.
She looked nothing like their daughter. She'd kept a picture; she'd hidden it away in the abandoned home she'd taken up residence in. Often times, Canary would stare at those green eyes, brightened by the happiness etched into the young face they belonged to. She'd search for that sense of familiarity, hoping that she would gain confirmation from photographic evidence that, yes, she looked like that before... Well, whatever incident caused her to come out looking like a mash-up of two different people.
Often times, Canary wished she could go back to being just... Rowan.
If she did, would her parents take her back? Would they open their door to her again?
No, she thought. They don't love you anymore. You're not their daughter.
Their daughter had been long since forgotten, replaced by the mess of a creature that was on her knees, sobbing into the darkness of the shaded alley.
Someone's coming, came Angel's soft voice. Canary swore she could feel them circling her in a protective embrace, but she knew she wouldn't find anything there if she looked.
As if on cue with Angel's warning, a shoe scraped against the pavement, and a wary, but concerned, voice rang out. One that didn't belong to her companions, or anyone she knew.
"Are you okay?"
It startled her.
What startled her even further was the peppier voice that followed, sounding as though it were wrangling itself into a lower tone.
"She doesn't look okay..." It stated the obvious.
"Observant." A third, cooler voice muttered sarcastically.
A resounding "shhhhhh" bounced off the walls of the alley.
Canary's curiosity nipped at her, but she fought against the urge to turn and look at the newcomer. She didn't trust herself to speak without muddling up her words, so she settled on a nod.
A disbelieving scoff sounded just as the scuffling of feet grew closer. It was only one pair, she noted. She could feel Reaper trying to wrangle control from her grip, trying to protect her from whoever approached.
"We could hear your cries from the other side of the street." Before she could respond, a hand was placed gently on her head. Reaper was snarling like a caged animal, but Canary didn't give them a single inch. She was wary, too, but also curious.
She also didn't feel much like herself, nor did she feel well enough to defend herself.
The first thing she noticed was that the touch was cool, oddly so. She could feel Angel's metaphorical eyebrows raise, her own eyebrows damn near doing the same. Something had drawn their attention; something was off about the one that approached her. But she didn't give herself the time to think about it. Nor did they, apparently.
A soothing rush of cool air, stemming from the hand that rested lightly on her head, washed over her. She slouched forwards, another arm curling around her front to keep her from faceplanting onto the cement. Exhaustion had been sprung upon her so swiftly, she couldn't prepare herself for the impact, leaving it to swallow her whole. But she wasn't exhausted enough to fall asleep, not quite yet. Her muscles had grown loose, and her mind was lulled into an almost eerie quiet by the softest lullaby known to man.
"I'm sorry," the first voice spoke as she was dragged towards one of the walls and lent against it.
"We wanted to silence your crying," the other spoke.
Ah. Right. She was a nuisance here, too.
Canary lifted her head, squinting at the person that now stood before her.
An oversized blue hoodie, the color of midnight, engulfed their upper half. Black jeans, torn at the knees, accompanied it. She couldn't see much of their face, but she could see silver strands of hair dangling from beneath their hood. Canary also caught the faintest glow of something else, but she couldn't tell what it was, or where it came from.
Before she could say anything, she was shoved to the sidelines of her mind, Reaper finally succeeding in clawing their way to the driver's side.
Their violet eye took on a haunting glow as they hissed, tear-stricken face scrunched in a feral display of hostility. "What did you do to me?"
The stranger jolted back, an intake of air the only sound they made.
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The eyes, Khonsu pointed out, using his "indoor" voice.
Is this person like us? Sol followed in her brother's footsteps, peering down at the feathered being through Zeta's eyes.
That's why it took a bit more effort to calm her, they realized. Zeta realized they hadn't answered the increasingly irate person before them.
They knelt down, eyes narrowing. "We helped you."
"Hel-" The viciousness visibly leaked away, the violet glow dimming. "Helped... Me?"
Whoever they'd first spoken to had returned, judging by the sudden switch from violent to confused, and the dullness of her eyes.
Zeta nodded, tugging their hood down to make themself appear less threatening. Her eyes snapped to their own multicolored ones.
They gave her their friendliest smile, which they feared turned out looking like a glorified grimace, as they channeled Sol's warmth.
"You were upset. We-" They paused, correcting themself. "I wanted to help." Their slip-up hadn't been on purpose, and they knew Sol and Khonsu had made their presences known before, but they still wanted to be the slightest bit careful.
Despite their attempts, her eyes strayed from theirs, searching the alley for beings that didn't quite feel like physically revealing themselves at the moment.
"I heard other voices. Are you alone? Were there others?" She asked warily. She lifted a hand to weakly rub at her face, wiping the tears away.
"You don't plan on killing our host, do you?" The sharp words slipped from Zeta's mouth before they can stop them. The lightest brush of cool air against the back of their neck was the only apology they received.
Her eyes were back on them in an instant.
"Host...?"
They couldn't even begin to imagine what sort of thoughts were soaring through her head. Well, they could. They'd heard plenty, in their time. "Parasite" was at the top of the list.
The moon god answered for them, puppeteering their body to his liking. "Yes. Host. Are you daft?"
Don't be so cruel, Khonsu. They warned. The woman certainly didn't deserve it after whatever rough day she'd had.
The oddest thing flickered across her face. Recognition.
Zeta was right, then.
She opened her mouth to respond but was immediately cut off.
"I'm sorry. We're getting a bit off topic... Are you feeling better?" They said, feeling the slightest amount of guilt for cutting her off.
Her confusion was quite visible as she lifted her shoulders in a half-assed shrug. "...Tired?"
They were sure she still felt sad, they could see it in her eyes.
Zeta's mouth fell into a frown, and they debated upon what they could do for a moment.
Sit with her, Sol spoke softly. It was uncharacteristic of her to be so quiet, so sad. Keep talking to her.
They nodded to themself, spotting the confusion in the stranger's face grow further, before they shuffled around to her side, plopping themself down. They avoided her wings, making sure not to touch, nor accidentally sit on, them. They knew that wings could be quiet delicate, despite not owning a pair himself.
"Why don't you tell me what's wrong?" They said, trying to match Sol's softness. "What's made you so sad?"
She hesitated.
Their brows twitched together. They didn't really talk to other people often, outside of whenever Sol was in charge, so they hoped they weren't crossing any boundaries.
"I promise I won't judge you too harshly." Khonsu, keep quiet, they silently threw at the moon god.
A scoff that only they were privy to sounded, bouncing around in their skull.
The winged woman bowed her head, considering their words. They could almost see the internal battle between her and the other being(s) that they assumed shared her body.
She was quiet. Too quiet. It seemed like she wouldn't be willing to take up that offer, and they were almost ready to give up and change tactics.
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Canary gave the smallest nod, ignoring Reaper's protest.
"Okay..." She muttered. Maybe it'll make her feel better to unload her baggage onto a random stranger.
And so, she spilled what troubled her, the stranger listening attentively, even as she slurred a few of her words thanks to the sleepiness they'd induced.
She liked to think that, after that, she gained somewhat of a new friend.