...This is not the front yard of her childhood home. Nor any kind of outdoors. Instead, it seems to be some kind of bar, although one with no television displaying a sport over the bar. Nor a bartender. And is that window over there displaying exploding stars? Ooookay. Giant high-def television playing exploding stars rather than sports. Or, more likely, some kind of prank by one of her mother's siblings.
"Uncle James? Aunt Ariel?" she calls. "Come on, I've had a rough day. Now is really not the time."
Silence.
Well, it's a bar. Maybe she's meant to go up to the bar.
She goes up to the bar. There don't seem to be any bottles behind it.
Probably not James or Ariel, then. They'd make a bar that looked more like an actual bar, if they were doing something like this.
"...Hello?" she calls again.
"I wouldn't want to do that any more than I'd care to be rid of my arms. They're attached. I've had my wings my whole life."
"Even if I could become - incorporeal - at will, I would expect to want to do it all at once. But then I'm accustomed to corporeality and may be missing something."
"Then why bother with wings at all? Why not just - expand incorporeally towards wherever they wish to be and then contract into a convenient form there?"
I do not control the door and cannot contact whoever does. If you go out and let it close, the door you were originally expecting will resume normal operation; in the meantime, your first drink is free.
"I see."
"Well, there are differences - even besides the appendages - but compared to being a hazardous field of energy I suppose it's a lot like being a human indeed. We live in angel holds, we sing a lot, the leader of our country is always an angel - co-ruling with a mortal spouse, though."
"Oh, all angels - with a very, very tiny handful of exceptions, long ago - have one angel and one mortal parent. If two angels try to have children the results are horribly deformed. Sometimes even angels' children are mortal, though."
"It's forbidden absent special dispensation for two angels to try, on my world. What happens when yours - hybridize?"
...My kind of angel don't biologically reproduce with each other, it occurs to me that that might be non-obvious."
"Well, they don't die, so they don't really need to make more of them, but if for some reason God decides there should be more angels he makes them. It's also theoretically possible for a human to become an angel, but I think that's happened a grand total of three times in human history, and one of them was one of the 'hybrids'--an unlucky one, who had enough self-possession to make sure she didn't hurt anyone but herself. Most of the unlucky ones would have been really really inconvenient to give full angelic powers, but she could be helped. The other two were just really devout mortals."
"How odd. ...Our sort of angels do die, not even later than mortals. Calling them 'mortals' is just convention."