Daria and Quinn sat in the living room, already bored though summer had
just started. Daria was watching TV, Quinn was, surprisingly, reading.
Daria looked away from the TV and noticed the book title, "You're not back on that guardian angel kick again are you?"
"They just came out with a new Angels Among Us book, it's very interesting, you should read it." Quinn said, not looking up.
"Right after I have my frontal lobes removed." Daria deadpanned, turning back to the TV.
"Ha ha, Daria."
Daria, really. I thought you two were getting closer. You don't have much time left. After you leave, this will be far more difficult. I swore I was never going to do this.dammit.
Later that night, Daria was asleep in her bed when a voice called out.
"Daaaaahhhrrriiiaaaaaahhh.Daaahhriaaaah." it was low and eerie.
Daria mumbled and rolled over, but did not wake up.
The voice became more insistent. "Daaahhriaaaah."it increased in volume and irritation. "Daria. Daria! Wake up, dammit!"
Daria sat up startled. "Wha?" She put on her glasses and looked around for the source of whatever it was that had woken her up.
"Finally. Jeeze, I thought I was going to have to douse you with cold water or something." A disembodied voice said from somewhere near the end of the bed.
" Am I still dreaming? Who said that?" Daria was quickly weighing her options of escape and attack.
" Huh? Oh, crap. Stupid, freakin'.hang on."
Daria looked around confused. Suddenly a diffuse light appeared near her bed. It coalesced until it formed a human shape. The image gradually cleared to reveal a young woman in her mid-twenties. She had shoulder length gold-red hair, yellow-green eyes and was about Daria's height. She was dressed somewhat like Quinn, flare jeans, and grey t-shirt, no shoes, but nicely pedicured toes.
" Who the hell are you?" Daria asked trying to determine how much of a threat this unknown person was.
" I'm your guaaaardian aaaangel." the girl said in a spooky voice.
"My guardian angel?" She didn't seem to want to hurt her, but why was there some strange girl in her bedroom in the middle of the night?
The stranger cleared her throat. "Um, no, not really. I'm Angelinhel. You can just call me Angel for short."
"Angel in hell?" Daria asked, thinking she was in the middle of some bizarre nightmare.
"Long story. Anywhoo, I overheard your conversation with Quinn and I decided to have a chat with you. You shouldn't pick on her for her belief in guardian angels. There's more out there than you know about." She said.
"So you're an angel, here to convince me about your existence and God? So far all I'm convinced of is not to eat Dad's cooking before bed. Or ever." Daria replied, firmly convinced it was a dream, yet feeling a strange sense of deja vu.
"Probably a good idea. I'm not here to convince you of anything. I just wanted to help you understand some things. I'm not really an angel, it's just a metaphorical-name thing." Angel sat on the end of the bed by Daria's feet.
"Am I dead?' Daria asked suddenly.
"What?!? No!" Angel looked surprised.
"Are you?" Daria peered at her.
"Not the last time I checked."
"So it's just the chili then." Daria stated.
Angel smirked "I'd better start from the beginning. Let's start off with the idea that most organized religions fell pretty wide of the mark when they decided on deities and the afterlife, and pretty much how the universe works in general. Follow so far?"
"So, there's no God or afterlife or what have you. That's what I told Quinn." Daria was trying to figure out what her subconscious was trying to tell her with this dream.
"Not quite. People tend to put things into terms they can understand. God is a 'person' with human attributes, we retain our personalities when we die, that sort of thing. It doesn't mean it's true. Humans are funny that way, in order for things to make sense they have be 'humanized'. The truth is harder to explain, because instinctively, you will want to anthropomorphize this, and I sort of have to, to explain it. And, as I am still only human, parts of it even I don't get. But just try to go with it, ok?"
"Uh, sure." This is the wierdest dream I've ever had.
"Think of the universe as an Ocean. It's one thing, one entity. It has a sort of 'consciousness' and is, in a way, a 'living being' but not in human terms. Now, you can think of a single person or animal as a Wave in that Ocean, separate yet still a part of it." Angel paused. "Still with me?"
Daria yawned "I guess so."
"As these Waves we have experiences, life. We change and then return to the whole and bring what we've learned and experienced with us. Every Wave adds more to the completeness of the Ocean. It's constantly changing. That's the purpose of life, Daria. To help complete the whole, to help it change."
"The meaning of life is just to change? Simply to have experiences?" Daria asked in disbelief, she smirked. "Or to make waves?"
"Cute pun. Meaning and purpose are two different things, but in a nutshell, yes."
"Why? What's the point of constant change?" Daria asked.
Angel shrugged "I never said I had all the answers. My guess is that at some point, the Ocean will become perfect and perhaps that's when it will stop changing and simply exist or end. I don't know. Does it matter?"
"Sounds like nothing matters." Daria said raising an eyebrow.
Angel did the same. "Or everything does."
"So you came from the great beyond to bestow this knowledge upon me. How is this supposed to help me? And why are you here again?" Daria was still somewhat asleep and getting confused.
"I'll try to explain. Let's suppose that as Waves with 'personalities' some can be put into certain groups. These groups motivate change in different ways. For example, your mother and Quinn are the same group, as are Stacy and Trent. Some belong to more than one group, but those are more rare, and are generally the troublemakers of the ocean. Lawndale has a number of Grouped people, which is why there's so much going on here." Angel said.
"What groups are there?" Daria asked while thinking: I am never eating Dad's chili again.
Angel looked mildly surprised "You're taking this awfully well."
"I'm assuming this is all a hot-sauce induced hallucination, so I may as well go with it."
"Okay, then. Whatever floats your boat."
"Right now, about two gallons of Tabasco.'
Angel continued, an amused expression on her face. "So there are Groups, more than I know about, but for example, Helen and Quinn are Solvers. They find solutions to problems and do something to implement those solutions, which in turn, motivate change or cause it directly. Trent and Stacy are Empathetics. That's one of the toughest and most frustrating to be. They feel the pain of the whole world, but they also feel the joy of the whole world. They're usually sensitive and creative, a way to use what they feel to motivate change."
"So that's why Mom and Quinn get along better."
"Well kinda, Solvers understand the way each other think. That's why they usually get along. Solvers are also very..." she paused searching for the right word.
"Obsessive?" Daria volunteered.
"Single-minded. No." Angel paused. "Focused, that's what I wanted. Focused. They're usually very good at one or a few things and concentrate on that. Your mom chose law."
"And Quinn chose popularity."
"Well, for now. I think she has a lot of potential. "
"For a career as a mannequin. She's got all the qualifications, looks and an empty head. What about Jane?" Daria asked.
Angel frowned at Daria's dig at her sister. "Jane might be a Creative. Lots of those, well, easier to spot at least." At Daria's curious look she elaborated. "True Creatives are quite brilliant at whatever their talent is. Michaelangelo, Mozart, Shakespeare, Jack Nicholson, they're usually famous. I'm not perfect at recognizing Groups. Some people aren't Grouped. They are simply individual Waves. Like Tom or Jake, Sandi. And, of course, everyone has their own personality and quirks. Groups just mean that those people tend to act in a certain way, it's no guarantee of behavior. Sometimes your natural personality will cause you to act against what your Group would normally cause you to do. Humans are notoriously unpredictable."
"So where do I fit in your Groups?"
"Like I said, I'm not perfect at recognizing Groups, I just go with what I see. Besides, some are that way right from the start, they're called Natural whatevers and some have experiences that push them into a Group, they're Created whatevers. There can be vast differences between Created and Naturals in a Group. I think you're a Natural Observer, a Detailer. They have a huge impact on the Ocean. They add the tiny details others miss, the ones that bring everything into sharp focus. Very important, but also a frustrating Group."
"Why?" Daria was curious, she had to admit, she did feel frustrated a good deal of the time.
"Because you can see what other people don't, you get frustrated because they don't react like you would, or you think they should, or just can't see the world the way you do. A Solver and a Detailer, no wonder you and Quinn don't get along. I'm surprised you haven't killed each other yet." Angel said with a small laugh.
"I just need to work out my alibi. What do our 'groups' have to do with it?" Daria asked.
"Think about it, your opposite personalities notwithstanding, someone who sees solutions clearly and someone who sees details the other missed? You're bound to conflict on the right thing to do." Angel replied.
"I'll keep all this in mind during the trial. If they don't accept it as reasonable cause, it'll definitely support the insanity plea. So why are you here? Wait, what are you?"
Angel smirked. "The worst kind, an Empathetic Solver, the 'Guardian Angels' of the Ocean. Also known as the 'Meddlers' of the Ocean. "
"What does that mean? And how is this supposed to help me?" Daria was tired and getting cranky.
Angel sensed her mood and continued. "Not only do I feel everyone's pain; I have an incessant need to fix it. Actually, I'm a Natural Solver, but a Created Empathetic. I can see where things are going wrong, and I'm compelled by compassion to resolve it. Though personally, I'm really not that fond of people in general and my empathy usually runs to animals, but human suffering still gets to me in some cases. That's why I'm here to help. I want you to understand that in the grand scheme of things, we are both very important and very insignificant. There are a lot of Waves out there, all doing their part. One of many is insignificant, but every one is important, too. Small changes add up and cause bigger changes."
"Chaos theory."
"Something like that. You need to know that no matter what happens in life, you matter. And the Ocean 'cares' in it's own way. It allowed me an opportunity to come here and help you. I don't expect you to burst forth with optimism, but regardless of how you interpret this and react to it, you've already changed, and so have I."
"Hmmm. Well it's interesting, at least. Don't you think a philosophical discussion would go over better when the other person is fully awake?" Daria rubbed her eyes behind her glasses.
"Everyone loves a cliché. And I thought the revelation of the "Meaning of Life" would make you more receptive to the real reason I'm here."
"Which is?" Daria prompted.
Angel shrugged. "To help."
Daria opened her mouth to say something, but Angel waved her off.
"You know, we have a lot in common, Daria. I can see myself in you, we've had a number of similar experiences." She started to say something else but stopped. "Actually, I can see a bit of myself in a lot of people in Lawndale. But then again, that's what Empathetics do."
Daria considered for a moment, she had a feeling Angel was being purposefully evasive about why she was there. "So, am I sworn to secrecy about the meaning of life? Will I even remember this later on? Can I tell Quinn Guardian Angels are actually Waves without wings?"
"You'll remember and can tell whomever you like. Talk to Trent about it. I think he'll be interested in the theory. Though I'm not really an angel, I do have wings."
"Really?"
"They're not very pretty. That's why I don't usually show them." Angel looked unsure about where the conversation was headed.
"Can I see them anyway?" Daria asked.
Angel sighed, she had debated showing them from the start because it would help Daria understand. Was she being too subtle? She hadn't intended to reveal so much about herself. Ah, what the hell. The same diffuse light appeared behind her and slowly a pair of white feather wings came into focus. Daria gasped. The wings were ragged, chunks of feathers were missing, violently torn out, neighboring feathers stained with old blood. One wing looked as if it had broken and healed crookedly. Various scars crisscrossed both. There were some recent wounds that had started to heal, and here and there, a clean, new feather.
"What happened?" Daria was shocked.
Angel looked sad. "Life, Daria. Life and change."
"Do they still." Daria trailed off.
"Work?" Angel finished her question. "Of course. Yours still do, don't they? Of course they don't look quite like mine."
"I have wings?" Daria asked in surprise.
"Sure. Everyone does, it's a metaphorical thing. Here, take a look."
A mirror appeared in front of Daria and she hesitantly peered into it. She saw her own white wings behind her. They were far from perfect, but not nearly the disaster Angel's were. Several sections of feathers were missing, but they seemed to be carefully plucked rather than torn out. A scar ran along the top of one wing, others were visible. She noticed a similar, but much longer scar on the top of Angel's wing.
Angel noted her comparison and answered her unvoiced question. "I had a Trent, too. Only, I was probably about 6 when we met. Brother's best friend. Haven't really seen him since he left for college about, oh, 8 years ago. Broke my heart. Some people try to stop using their wings when they hurt, others keep trying no matter how much they've been hurt, and occasionally, people cut their wings off completely. I just couldn't cut mine off, not while they still worked. But I am hesitant to use them. So are you."
The mirror disappeared. Angel stood up. "Well I hope that this has helped at least a little bit. While there is no real force that controls our lives, per se, someone will always care, Daria. There is hope. Don't give up on the world just yet, it's always changing."
"So the whole point of this was to get me to accept and understand the inevitability of change."
"Yeah, pretty much. Oh, and to get you to take it easier on yourself and everyone else."
"What?" Daria wasn't expecting that last bit.
Angel looked her in the eye. "Other people don't pull out feathers, Daria, they only make scars. I'll leave you with one thing, but don't worry, it only lasts a day. We'll see each other again."
Angel disappeared, leaving a bewildered Daria.
Daria looked away from the TV and noticed the book title, "You're not back on that guardian angel kick again are you?"
"They just came out with a new Angels Among Us book, it's very interesting, you should read it." Quinn said, not looking up.
"Right after I have my frontal lobes removed." Daria deadpanned, turning back to the TV.
"Ha ha, Daria."
Daria, really. I thought you two were getting closer. You don't have much time left. After you leave, this will be far more difficult. I swore I was never going to do this.dammit.
Later that night, Daria was asleep in her bed when a voice called out.
"Daaaaahhhrrriiiaaaaaahhh.Daaahhriaaaah." it was low and eerie.
Daria mumbled and rolled over, but did not wake up.
The voice became more insistent. "Daaahhriaaaah."it increased in volume and irritation. "Daria. Daria! Wake up, dammit!"
Daria sat up startled. "Wha?" She put on her glasses and looked around for the source of whatever it was that had woken her up.
"Finally. Jeeze, I thought I was going to have to douse you with cold water or something." A disembodied voice said from somewhere near the end of the bed.
" Am I still dreaming? Who said that?" Daria was quickly weighing her options of escape and attack.
" Huh? Oh, crap. Stupid, freakin'.hang on."
Daria looked around confused. Suddenly a diffuse light appeared near her bed. It coalesced until it formed a human shape. The image gradually cleared to reveal a young woman in her mid-twenties. She had shoulder length gold-red hair, yellow-green eyes and was about Daria's height. She was dressed somewhat like Quinn, flare jeans, and grey t-shirt, no shoes, but nicely pedicured toes.
" Who the hell are you?" Daria asked trying to determine how much of a threat this unknown person was.
" I'm your guaaaardian aaaangel." the girl said in a spooky voice.
"My guardian angel?" She didn't seem to want to hurt her, but why was there some strange girl in her bedroom in the middle of the night?
The stranger cleared her throat. "Um, no, not really. I'm Angelinhel. You can just call me Angel for short."
"Angel in hell?" Daria asked, thinking she was in the middle of some bizarre nightmare.
"Long story. Anywhoo, I overheard your conversation with Quinn and I decided to have a chat with you. You shouldn't pick on her for her belief in guardian angels. There's more out there than you know about." She said.
"So you're an angel, here to convince me about your existence and God? So far all I'm convinced of is not to eat Dad's cooking before bed. Or ever." Daria replied, firmly convinced it was a dream, yet feeling a strange sense of deja vu.
"Probably a good idea. I'm not here to convince you of anything. I just wanted to help you understand some things. I'm not really an angel, it's just a metaphorical-name thing." Angel sat on the end of the bed by Daria's feet.
"Am I dead?' Daria asked suddenly.
"What?!? No!" Angel looked surprised.
"Are you?" Daria peered at her.
"Not the last time I checked."
"So it's just the chili then." Daria stated.
Angel smirked "I'd better start from the beginning. Let's start off with the idea that most organized religions fell pretty wide of the mark when they decided on deities and the afterlife, and pretty much how the universe works in general. Follow so far?"
"So, there's no God or afterlife or what have you. That's what I told Quinn." Daria was trying to figure out what her subconscious was trying to tell her with this dream.
"Not quite. People tend to put things into terms they can understand. God is a 'person' with human attributes, we retain our personalities when we die, that sort of thing. It doesn't mean it's true. Humans are funny that way, in order for things to make sense they have be 'humanized'. The truth is harder to explain, because instinctively, you will want to anthropomorphize this, and I sort of have to, to explain it. And, as I am still only human, parts of it even I don't get. But just try to go with it, ok?"
"Uh, sure." This is the wierdest dream I've ever had.
"Think of the universe as an Ocean. It's one thing, one entity. It has a sort of 'consciousness' and is, in a way, a 'living being' but not in human terms. Now, you can think of a single person or animal as a Wave in that Ocean, separate yet still a part of it." Angel paused. "Still with me?"
Daria yawned "I guess so."
"As these Waves we have experiences, life. We change and then return to the whole and bring what we've learned and experienced with us. Every Wave adds more to the completeness of the Ocean. It's constantly changing. That's the purpose of life, Daria. To help complete the whole, to help it change."
"The meaning of life is just to change? Simply to have experiences?" Daria asked in disbelief, she smirked. "Or to make waves?"
"Cute pun. Meaning and purpose are two different things, but in a nutshell, yes."
"Why? What's the point of constant change?" Daria asked.
Angel shrugged "I never said I had all the answers. My guess is that at some point, the Ocean will become perfect and perhaps that's when it will stop changing and simply exist or end. I don't know. Does it matter?"
"Sounds like nothing matters." Daria said raising an eyebrow.
Angel did the same. "Or everything does."
"So you came from the great beyond to bestow this knowledge upon me. How is this supposed to help me? And why are you here again?" Daria was still somewhat asleep and getting confused.
"I'll try to explain. Let's suppose that as Waves with 'personalities' some can be put into certain groups. These groups motivate change in different ways. For example, your mother and Quinn are the same group, as are Stacy and Trent. Some belong to more than one group, but those are more rare, and are generally the troublemakers of the ocean. Lawndale has a number of Grouped people, which is why there's so much going on here." Angel said.
"What groups are there?" Daria asked while thinking: I am never eating Dad's chili again.
Angel looked mildly surprised "You're taking this awfully well."
"I'm assuming this is all a hot-sauce induced hallucination, so I may as well go with it."
"Okay, then. Whatever floats your boat."
"Right now, about two gallons of Tabasco.'
Angel continued, an amused expression on her face. "So there are Groups, more than I know about, but for example, Helen and Quinn are Solvers. They find solutions to problems and do something to implement those solutions, which in turn, motivate change or cause it directly. Trent and Stacy are Empathetics. That's one of the toughest and most frustrating to be. They feel the pain of the whole world, but they also feel the joy of the whole world. They're usually sensitive and creative, a way to use what they feel to motivate change."
"So that's why Mom and Quinn get along better."
"Well kinda, Solvers understand the way each other think. That's why they usually get along. Solvers are also very..." she paused searching for the right word.
"Obsessive?" Daria volunteered.
"Single-minded. No." Angel paused. "Focused, that's what I wanted. Focused. They're usually very good at one or a few things and concentrate on that. Your mom chose law."
"And Quinn chose popularity."
"Well, for now. I think she has a lot of potential. "
"For a career as a mannequin. She's got all the qualifications, looks and an empty head. What about Jane?" Daria asked.
Angel frowned at Daria's dig at her sister. "Jane might be a Creative. Lots of those, well, easier to spot at least." At Daria's curious look she elaborated. "True Creatives are quite brilliant at whatever their talent is. Michaelangelo, Mozart, Shakespeare, Jack Nicholson, they're usually famous. I'm not perfect at recognizing Groups. Some people aren't Grouped. They are simply individual Waves. Like Tom or Jake, Sandi. And, of course, everyone has their own personality and quirks. Groups just mean that those people tend to act in a certain way, it's no guarantee of behavior. Sometimes your natural personality will cause you to act against what your Group would normally cause you to do. Humans are notoriously unpredictable."
"So where do I fit in your Groups?"
"Like I said, I'm not perfect at recognizing Groups, I just go with what I see. Besides, some are that way right from the start, they're called Natural whatevers and some have experiences that push them into a Group, they're Created whatevers. There can be vast differences between Created and Naturals in a Group. I think you're a Natural Observer, a Detailer. They have a huge impact on the Ocean. They add the tiny details others miss, the ones that bring everything into sharp focus. Very important, but also a frustrating Group."
"Why?" Daria was curious, she had to admit, she did feel frustrated a good deal of the time.
"Because you can see what other people don't, you get frustrated because they don't react like you would, or you think they should, or just can't see the world the way you do. A Solver and a Detailer, no wonder you and Quinn don't get along. I'm surprised you haven't killed each other yet." Angel said with a small laugh.
"I just need to work out my alibi. What do our 'groups' have to do with it?" Daria asked.
"Think about it, your opposite personalities notwithstanding, someone who sees solutions clearly and someone who sees details the other missed? You're bound to conflict on the right thing to do." Angel replied.
"I'll keep all this in mind during the trial. If they don't accept it as reasonable cause, it'll definitely support the insanity plea. So why are you here? Wait, what are you?"
Angel smirked. "The worst kind, an Empathetic Solver, the 'Guardian Angels' of the Ocean. Also known as the 'Meddlers' of the Ocean. "
"What does that mean? And how is this supposed to help me?" Daria was tired and getting cranky.
Angel sensed her mood and continued. "Not only do I feel everyone's pain; I have an incessant need to fix it. Actually, I'm a Natural Solver, but a Created Empathetic. I can see where things are going wrong, and I'm compelled by compassion to resolve it. Though personally, I'm really not that fond of people in general and my empathy usually runs to animals, but human suffering still gets to me in some cases. That's why I'm here to help. I want you to understand that in the grand scheme of things, we are both very important and very insignificant. There are a lot of Waves out there, all doing their part. One of many is insignificant, but every one is important, too. Small changes add up and cause bigger changes."
"Chaos theory."
"Something like that. You need to know that no matter what happens in life, you matter. And the Ocean 'cares' in it's own way. It allowed me an opportunity to come here and help you. I don't expect you to burst forth with optimism, but regardless of how you interpret this and react to it, you've already changed, and so have I."
"Hmmm. Well it's interesting, at least. Don't you think a philosophical discussion would go over better when the other person is fully awake?" Daria rubbed her eyes behind her glasses.
"Everyone loves a cliché. And I thought the revelation of the "Meaning of Life" would make you more receptive to the real reason I'm here."
"Which is?" Daria prompted.
Angel shrugged. "To help."
Daria opened her mouth to say something, but Angel waved her off.
"You know, we have a lot in common, Daria. I can see myself in you, we've had a number of similar experiences." She started to say something else but stopped. "Actually, I can see a bit of myself in a lot of people in Lawndale. But then again, that's what Empathetics do."
Daria considered for a moment, she had a feeling Angel was being purposefully evasive about why she was there. "So, am I sworn to secrecy about the meaning of life? Will I even remember this later on? Can I tell Quinn Guardian Angels are actually Waves without wings?"
"You'll remember and can tell whomever you like. Talk to Trent about it. I think he'll be interested in the theory. Though I'm not really an angel, I do have wings."
"Really?"
"They're not very pretty. That's why I don't usually show them." Angel looked unsure about where the conversation was headed.
"Can I see them anyway?" Daria asked.
Angel sighed, she had debated showing them from the start because it would help Daria understand. Was she being too subtle? She hadn't intended to reveal so much about herself. Ah, what the hell. The same diffuse light appeared behind her and slowly a pair of white feather wings came into focus. Daria gasped. The wings were ragged, chunks of feathers were missing, violently torn out, neighboring feathers stained with old blood. One wing looked as if it had broken and healed crookedly. Various scars crisscrossed both. There were some recent wounds that had started to heal, and here and there, a clean, new feather.
"What happened?" Daria was shocked.
Angel looked sad. "Life, Daria. Life and change."
"Do they still." Daria trailed off.
"Work?" Angel finished her question. "Of course. Yours still do, don't they? Of course they don't look quite like mine."
"I have wings?" Daria asked in surprise.
"Sure. Everyone does, it's a metaphorical thing. Here, take a look."
A mirror appeared in front of Daria and she hesitantly peered into it. She saw her own white wings behind her. They were far from perfect, but not nearly the disaster Angel's were. Several sections of feathers were missing, but they seemed to be carefully plucked rather than torn out. A scar ran along the top of one wing, others were visible. She noticed a similar, but much longer scar on the top of Angel's wing.
Angel noted her comparison and answered her unvoiced question. "I had a Trent, too. Only, I was probably about 6 when we met. Brother's best friend. Haven't really seen him since he left for college about, oh, 8 years ago. Broke my heart. Some people try to stop using their wings when they hurt, others keep trying no matter how much they've been hurt, and occasionally, people cut their wings off completely. I just couldn't cut mine off, not while they still worked. But I am hesitant to use them. So are you."
The mirror disappeared. Angel stood up. "Well I hope that this has helped at least a little bit. While there is no real force that controls our lives, per se, someone will always care, Daria. There is hope. Don't give up on the world just yet, it's always changing."
"So the whole point of this was to get me to accept and understand the inevitability of change."
"Yeah, pretty much. Oh, and to get you to take it easier on yourself and everyone else."
"What?" Daria wasn't expecting that last bit.
Angel looked her in the eye. "Other people don't pull out feathers, Daria, they only make scars. I'll leave you with one thing, but don't worry, it only lasts a day. We'll see each other again."
Angel disappeared, leaving a bewildered Daria.
