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[Gorgondantess]

She snorted, ignoring the proffered hand. Oh, she knew well what a handshake was, and was even willing to perform the ritual with certain humans. Not with this one, though- if he could even be called that.
Still watching the escaping cultists lazily, legs dangling off the side of the building, she speaks without giving "Quadramus" a glance.

"Oh? And what would that be, exactly?"

She shakes her head regardless of the response.

"I have no reason to trust you. Actually, I have no reason not to just try to kill you. In fact, if you hadn't earlier proven to me your remarkable evasive capabilities, that's exactly what I'd be doing right now."

She sighs, sparing him a glance.

"Even when you appeared to be trying to help, your motives seem... anathemic to my own. Even disregarding the exploding monster. Frankly, I'm skeptical you're not just here to taunt me."

She sighs again, turning her head back to the cultists. Overall, she doesn't seem angry so much as disappointed. She was too tired to be angry, to work up one of her classic furies. On top of that, she needed all the help she could get right now. It had been over a week of searching to bear no fruits whatsoever- a week for Maurice to endure all the torments of hell. She'd hoped Maurice managed to escape to some safe ground, or find some other means of eking out a bearable existence in the meantime- she was one tough angel (god, she was tough), but a strong will could only take one so far. So she would assume that Maurice was bearing the full brunt of hell's fury until proven otherwise. It was a grim thought- a terrible thought- but one that kept her moving forwards. And while these cultists might be her ticket to a swift rescue, it could just as easily be another dead end.

"Well, whatever. I'm willing to hear you out at least. But if you can wait a month to tell me what you wanted to say, you can bloody well wait another few minutes."

She continues to hawk the cultists, waiting for the opportune moment, then pulling herself together like a loaded spring leaps off the tower, sending shingles flying from the force. The leap turns into a soar, and the soar into a dive, her making fine movements and transformations all the while. She lands perfectly right before the first cultist, transforming her body into a rubbery composition right at the moment of impact, and then to a more rigid material as she holds out an arm and clotheslines the man, dropping him instantly. Still charging forwards with the momentum of her fall, she smashes the heads of the remaining two cultists together, dropping them as well.
She was reminded of the other time she battled cloaked figures. How times have changed- she was so clumsy then, so narrow minded, still growing used to her capabilities. Here, it was less than a second between touchdown and the last body striking the ground.
...Hardly perfect though. She winced at the forms of the cultists she'd smashed together. One had a steadily expanding pool of blood beneath her head, and the others' neck was twisted at an ugly angle. Both still, and hopefully only unconscious. She'd yet to learn the sweet spot of just enough force to incapacitate a human without killing them. She was also beginning to suspect it didn't exist. They were so frail.
At least the first one she'd brought down was still moving, huddled on his side, moaning. She scoffed.
"You'll live."

With that, she turned on her heel, heading back to the bell tower at a leisurely pace, hopping from building to building and scaling walls swiftly, but without haste. She wasn't sure whether to hope Quadramus was still there, or whether he had disappeared again- the... whatever it was... was an enigma, and likely not a friendly one. Still, it couldn't hurt to talk, could it?