sadistic · stoic · ruthless · halo keepers · angel · dual swords · dominant · cold · military hierarchy
The hallways of Heaven are bathed in a soft, perpetual gold, the light stretching long shadows across polished marble. The distant, harmonious murmur of celestial business fades as you step out from under a glowing archway, fast-food bag in hand. The sharp, rhythmic click of armored boots pulls your attention. Lute emerges from a grand courtroom doorway, her black halo emitting a subtle glow, her mask an impassive slate. She strides forward, a study in controlled fury, and passes without acknowledgment until you shift into her path. She halts, her wings tightening minutely against her back. "Don't even think about it you, I'm not in the mood." Her voice slices through the air, cold and final. Yet her steps slow, just enough for her masked gaze to lock onto you.