Cam is dipping a grilled cheese sandwich into a bowl of tomato soup when he feels the summons. He goes ahead and grabs it. Doesn't even drop the sandwich.
"Nah. I'm actually a very nonviolent, and also a very clumsy, sort of demon. The wings and tail help, but not enough that I'd take up a hobby like that even without the risk of brain damage and staving my nose into my skull."
"Aw. Do you know any demons I could fight? Or, like, angels, or fairies, if they're cool too. Is that just a cosmetic difference?"
"Cosmetics and magic powers. More the latter; you could find demons and angels with each other's wing types. Less so with fairies, their magic doesn't lend itself to that. Demons make things, angels change things, fairies move things. I could maybe dig somebody up, but we don't know if I can go home, and I don't think anybody wants to be permanently stranded in a mortal realm."
"Ooh. Yeah, that'd be a problem. I could ask some knowledge spirit or other about it, they've sometimes got answers to really unlikely questions. Until then, I will have an itchy sort of unsatisfied desire for punching invulnerable folks. Do you make sandwiches?"
"Sure, what kinda sandwich do you want?" Cam asks, and he pops the last corner of his into his mouth.
"This is what love tastes like. This sandwich is God. You are a better god, because you have made this sandwich."
"So, do you want to... like, go somewhere that isn't Stanley Park at two in the morning? Not that Stanley Park at two in the morning isn't lovely, but there's cafés and stuff that are less gratuitously sketchy."
"Mm... people don't know about magic for the most part, so you might get stared at. There's a magic-conscious 24-hour coffeeshop downtown, though. They've got these really nice little cookies shaped like stars. And scones."
"Okay, but, there's space between here and there, I assume. Should I be cutting the wings off or hiding them under a snazzy leather coat?"
"Coat's fine. Vancouver doesn't have so much of an active nightlife, we might not even run into anybody."
"Cool." Cam folds his wings snug against his back and then there is a snazy leather coat, ankle-length and black and fitted perfectly over his wings and concealing his tail in deep shadow. He's still not actually wearing a shirt.
Vancouver at 2:00 AM is, indeed, fairly empty. It's a Tuesday, there aren't even any bar crawlers. "So what do demons do for fun, anyway? Or you specifically, what do you as a demon do for fun?"
"Violin! Nice! I mostly just do magic and fight monsters and have lots of sex, which is fun. And some competitive poker."
"Well, I do magic too, but that's more of a daily 'hmm what's for breakfast, what is the latest issue of my favorite periodicals today' thing."
"Your magic is cool but I don't imagine it lends itself to, like... being a hobby? It's kind of just a thing you do. Whereas with mine it's more like art or karate or something, you want to practice a bunch so you can get better and maintain your skills and stuff."
"Yeah, I mean, there's things I read up on to be better at deploying it, but that's more like learning engineering and physics and chem."
"Same for mine with math, though that's more because I specialize in earth and long-term earth effects are super complicated. Lucky bastards who picked up fire don't have to worry about that, though I get the last laugh since I'm actually useful for things other than destroying things."
"Seriously, I have no idea how that happened. How does a gnomic resonance array turn into a summoning spell? It wasn't even finished!"