My God, My Tourniquet!

Archon hummed at Dea's declaration of already being a fallen angel. To truly become one of them, she would need to give herself, body and soul, to God. Archon was, however, pleased to her of her verbal commitment even after such a dispute and he allowed the corners of his maw to turn upwards as he finished the task of cleaning her wound.

Dea then dipped her face in the pool and Archon watched silently as the bloodstained water bloomed around her face. She made a comment about there being more blood than she had thought and Archon once again replied with a hum at first.

"It would be an honor to earn a scar in the name of God," he mused a moment later, mostly to himself. He thought of what God had wanted to come from this. Had the conflict been to teach Cae a lesson? Dea? Both of them? Or perhaps even Archon.

"You will stand by God as a member of the Band of Fallen Angels, then," he said decidedly, coming close enough to the woman to lower his voice to a rumbling whisper.

"I would be pleased to have you by my side as well."