Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The halo, dull and lifeless, hit the sand with a soft thump.

“Adam is dead, your deal is done, and I'm in charge now.” Lute began, glaring down her nose at the figure reclining on the chair in front of her. “Your brat is threatening the very foundation of Heaven; and if you want to stay here, you're going down there and stopping that bitch. You understand me, Lilith ?” 

This felt wrong, turning to Lilith of all people, but Lute was more than a little desperate. Her world had all but ended in every way that mattered over the course of this damnable day, so who could blame her for turning towards alternative sources to save the burning wreckage from sinking. She wasn’t exactly fucking happy about it either. To this day, Lute couldn't comprehend what possible deal could exist in creation for Adam to have allowed this creature into Heaven. Sure, there had been some immediate benefits to removing Lilith from Hell, such as an end to her constantly preaching resistance and rebellion to the sinners, but Adam had never told Lute the full scope of the deal between them. Angels should never associate with the damned, especially not the Queen of The Damned herself... Adam was an exception, Lute was sure he must have had a valid reason.

Whatever that reason might have been, the secret of Lilith’s presence now rested in Lute's hands… hand. If this hypocritical bitch wanted to give up preaching rebellion so she could relax on the beach while her subjects were slaughtered, then Lute was at least going to make use of her. Galling as it was, Lute was backed into a corner. The mere idea of working with Lilith turned her stomach, but that infernal Princess was trying to change the way Heaven and Hell worked. Lilith had the power and authority to put the world back in order again. Send a demon to deal with demons, it was the best plan Lute had at the moment.

Lilith was silent for several long seconds, her expression inscrutable. Lute expected several things. An outburst, a tantrum, some complaining, honestly she'd settle for a frown… but instead, Lilith smiled. Confidant and amused. A poor indication for the direction of this conversation.

“No.” The woman responded simply, making no effort to even sit up. Instead she took a moment to adjust her long shapely legs as she got more comfortable. 

“No? The fuck do you mean, ‘No’ !?” Lute felt her blood pressure spike as Lilith merely laughed at her. By what right in Heaven or Hell did this woman have to laugh?! Lute was the one holding the cards here, this woman was on Heaven’s territory and therefore under its rules. If Lute said jump, Lilith was expected to leap. Despite this, the Exorcist’s fury seemed to barely register to the lounging woman.

“I must admit, I never held particularly high expectations for my ex-husband’s little sex toys, but had hoped basic English was something you understood.” Lilith's smile widened a fraction at when Lute's face colored at the woman's insinuation. Exorcists were mighty soldiers of Heaven not- whatever, This bitch didn't have any damn right to comment on what happened behind closed doors anyway. unfortunately, despite Lute's clear indignation, the Queen of Hell powered right along with her mockery. “Hmmm. Language barrier perhaps? No, non, nein, não, nei. I can go on.”

Fury overtook sense. There was only so much mockery Lute would stomach from a demon, queen or not. Stepping forward and grabbing the brim of the big, stupid sunhat, Lute yanked it off Lilith’s head. In the same motion, she whipped the hat across the woman's face, knocking her sunglasses askew before tossing it to the sand.

“Enough of your fucking jokes, Hellbitch. I told you once, I am now in charge of the Exorcist Army in Adam's place. It is my duty to protect Heaven, and since you are here under the protections granted by Adam's deal, you are going to pull your goddamn weight.” Lute’s tirade eased into a calmer, more sinister tone. She realized that anger wasn’t the approach here. Of course not. This was a fucking demon, they only responded to their own tools being used against them. Trickery and blackmail. Lute figured knew exactly the buttons to press to get a response. “ And if you don't, then I have no reason to keep your presence a secret. I'm sure the Seraphim would be very interested to hear about you. maybe the Archangels? … Or perhaps Lucifer? I'm sure he's very curious about where his wife has been hiding.”

It would be no understatement to say that Lute delighted in the brief moment of surprise that flickered across Lilith's face at getting slapped with her hat. She'd taken the woman off guard, at least for a moment. It didn't last unfortunately. The demon queen simply took off her sunglasses, expression shifting to one that looked… almost impressed? Moving with unnatural grace, the woman sat up. Which shouldn't have been intimidating, if not for the fact that Lilith sitting was nearly as tall as Lute was standing. Much like Adam's own mighty frame, the Angels had blessed the first woman with a truly impressive stature. The first humans had been built different.

“Very cute. I can admit that you've got conviction, if not sense. I take it you're rather new at the whole ‘acting on your own’ thing.” The woman's expression was amused, yet there was also just a touch of something else. Disappointment? Pity? Whatever it was set Lute's blood to boiling.

“What exactly the fuck is that supposed to mean? I've made my orders pretty fucking clear.” Lute hissed, Lilith just dismissed her fury with a wave.

“And yet, you've thought through exactly none of your ‘orders’.  Must I break it down for you?” The woman sighed, “What, exactly, do you expect to happen if I do as you say? That I just drop down to Hell and go ‘Oh Charlie dear, I know you've finally got the means to rebel against Heaven but that's really inconvenient right now. Be a dear, give up on all your dreams and ask all the sinners to pretty please give back their angelic weapons? Good girl, now Mommy is going to go back to Heaven and sit on the beach, Toodles!’” Lilith played out the scene in a mocking tone, before her act dropped and she turned to look at Lute with a deadpan expression. “Seriously?”

“Anything sounds stupid when you put it that way!” Lute barked, wings flaring. “You're the fucking Queen of Hell! Use some fucking force! Make them obey!”

Lilith was silent for a beat, frowning slightly. The woman stood, now fully towering over Lute. The world seemed to dim but  it was hard to tell if that was the Queen's shadow falling over her or if the sky actually darkened. There was something akin to a flicker of fear in Lute's heart as those intense lilac eyes lost any hint of amusement and pinned Lute down.

“Use force?... Are you suggesting that I would turn a hand against my own daughter? Against my darling husband? For you, for this!?” Lilith hissed, gesturing at the beach and the Heavenly sky behind her.

“... Yes? You… left them so-Ack” Lute didn't get to finish that sentence. By her understanding, Lilith had made a deal to get out of Hell and chose to stay in Heaven on a permanent basis. A sentiment that Lute could understand, even if she didn't approve of. The fact that there was a hand with an iron grip around her throat implied that she might have made some error in regards to Lilith’s motivation.

Lute wasn't entirely opposed to being choked under the right circumstances, but there was a marked difference between playful choking in the bedroom and someone actively debating on whether or not to kill you. 

With a strangled sound, Lute attempted to resist. Striking at Lilith's hand with her remaining fist, even putting all her holy strength into punching the Queen's arm didn't make her so much as twitch. No amount of punching, kicking, or squirming was enough to get a reaction from the queen. Meanwhile, Lilith seemed to be using the same amount of effort one might use to restrain a particularly agitated gerbil.

“Allow me to educate you. I may be on sabbatical from Hell, but I have not abandoned my kingdom without reason and a day in Heaven would never be worth turning against my family. The stupidity of even suggesting such a thing, Adam clearly has no sense of quality control in mass producing you exorcists.” Lilith snarled, but Lute only barely registered the words. Her vision was starting to grow spotty and mind felt hazy from oxygen deprivation. The world continued to dim near to total blackness until the pressure released suddenly, air rushing into the angel’s lungs as she was unceremoniously dropped to the sand. “You're lucky that killing you would raise inconvenient questions.” Lilith sighed.

Gasping and wheezing to feed her starved lungs, Lute tried and failed to right herself in the stand, a false start with trying to use a recently missing limb to push herself up didn't help. She'd nearly blacked out. Lilith seemed to have temporarily lost interest in her, chewing on her thumbnail and looking out over the ocean as she thought about something. It gave Lute precious seconds to collect her thoughts. Had- had Lilith said she was in Heaven for a reason? Did that mean she was working on some kind of plan, not just laying on the beach? 

Lute tried to pull together all her memories of the rare interactions between Adam and Lilith over the last seven years. She’d been kept out of the first meeting, immediately after an Extermination, Adam had gone back to the Embassy which usually meant him gloating at Lilith or Lucifer and delivering some rare updates from the Heavenly court. Lute normally was witness to such meetings, but she’d been ordered to patrol the building… and then they had ended up traveling back to Heaven with Lilith in tow, despite Lute’s objections and questions. One of the only two times Lute had come close to outright disobeying Adam’s orders. After that, interactions had been extremely rare. Adam checked on Lilith occasionally, but they never talked for more than a few minutes. Anytime Lute had seen Lilith she had been holed up in her private villa near this beach with the only occasional event of going out into the streets of Heaven in disguise, typically to a library or something. Now that Lute thought about it, Adam did complain about Lilith making ‘unreasonable requests’ but he’d never give Lute details. Was Lilith working on some secret plot against Heaven or trying to discover its secrets? Did Adam know? If he did, why allow her to continue? There had to be some reason he allowed the woman to remain here, but what was it?

A long, loud sigh interrupted Lute’s thoughts. Lute looked up to see that Lilith had changed, her form now much more fitting of her role as Queen of the Damned. The illusion of humanity drained away from her. Fingers tipped in long talons, head crowned by great curling horns, eyes as warm and inviting as a lake of freshly spilled blood. The mere sight of Lilith revealing her true nature awoke a primal fear in Lute’s soul, understanding the sensation of looking into the eyes of an apex predator who sat many steps above you on the food chain. Lilith didn’t even look particularly angry, no she just regarded Lute the way one might a loose thread in their shirt or a rock in your shoe. A minor inconvenience to be dealt with and promptly forgotten.

“Why did you have to bother me, Lute?” The woman sighed as she shook her head. “You’re too important to just kill, your Exorcist sisters would ask questions that would reach unwanted listeners… but I can’t simply let you walk away. If you’re stupid enough to bother me for a harebrained scheme, then you’re stupid enough to throw a tantrum when I don’t comply. Ah, what to do? Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.”

Fear and anger warred in Lute’s mind as she worked to stand up. Lilith’s posture was calm and relaxed, despite her demonic transformation, Lute doubted she would be able to react fast enough if Lute bolted. She hated to admit it, but she was starting to Lilith was at least partially right. Coming here had been something of a mistake. She could threaten Lilith but she didn’t exactly have the means to back up that threat. Adam and Lilith had been equals in power and were able to keep each other in check with threat of force. Lute might be the strongest of the Exorcists, but she was still only an Exorcist. There was a difference between slaughtering Sinners and picking a fight with the First Woman. That wasn’t even counting her injured state. She should have just gone straight to The High Seraphim, told the truth about Adam’s secret guest, come to the beach with the full might of Heaven… There was merit to that idea actually. If Lilith didn’t want to force her subjects in line, having her as a hostage would be enough to force Lucifer and the Princess to keep the sinners in check.

She just needed to get away. Lilith didn’t have wings, if Lute could get airborne, she’d be as good as gone. She just needed an opening, which was hard to get when the Queen of The Damned was staring her down.

“... I could… promise to keep my mouth shut… if you let me leave?” Lute said, inching her foot back just a half step. The idea of engaging in an actual deal with this creature was beyond repugnant, but if she was careful with her wording, she might be able to make this work. She didn’t need to use her mouth to tell Sera about Lilith, she could write it down. Exploiting loopholes felt like sinner behavior if Lute was being honest, but needs must. She didn’t even need to actually shake on a deal, just get Lilith distracted thinking about it so she could bolt.

Lilith took a step closer, not breaking eye contact. Shit. 

“No no, Little Angel. I’m afraid I can’t trust that… I do feel bad for your part in all this. I’m sure it was someone’s plan for you to be here today. Bother me with your harebrained scheme, which I either complied with, threw a tantrum over, or you run off to tattle to the Seraphim. Cause and effect, the dominoes fall either way.” Lilith explained, stepping closer and holding her hand out to the side. A pulse of static tingled the air as wisps of energy drew towards Lilith’s palm. Lute had no sorcery of her own but she was well familiar enough to recognize that Lilith was drawing in a quite frankly monstrous amount of power. One could practically taste the magic in the air. She didn't know what the woman was doing, but she knew it was going to be bad. “No, I can’t let that play out, which leaves only one alternative, which is to remove myself from the narrative.”

Fuck whatever that meant. She wasn’t going to get a real opportunity but she couldn’t risk staying a moment longer. Lute’s wings stretched out and slammed down, blowing a cloud of sand between her and Lilith as Lute pushed off into the air. Hoping the sand might give her just a second to build altitude, She pumped her wings again, not daring to look back as she began to climb. Lute might not be one of the fastest flyers in the Exorcist Army, but she was far from slow on the wing.

Wasted effort apparently.

A hand wrapped around Lute’s ankle like a vice. Lute’s attempts to fly away were futile and were rewarded by being slammed face first into the sand. Trying to pull herself up, she saw Lilith’s shadow in the sand in front of her, felt the magic swirling in the air as it drew closer.

“No, nonono no! Don't you fucking touch me, you Bitc-” she screamed, desperately hoping that someone, anyone might hear, but Lilith’s hand came down before she could finish her sentence. Lute braced herself as best she could as magic washed over her and-

…

Lute blinked.

What the fuck?

Why was she at the beach? Lute hated the beach. Beaches were full of sand. Coarse, rough, irritating, and it got everywhere. She never went to the beach, even found excuses to do other things when Adam wanted to go… So why was she at the beach, face down in the awful sand? 

Groaning, she tried to push herself up, only to buckle when she instinctively went to put weight on an arm that was no longer present. The stumble caused her to fall back into her previous position, face down in the sand. Shit, what was wrong with her arm? Fuck. The Battle. God dammit. Her arm- rather, her stump was stinging. She'd probably somehow gotten sand in the wound despite the bandages. A perfect little detail tossed onto an impossibly shitty day.

More carefully this time, she worked her way to be sitting on her knees. She frowned, rubbing at her eyes with her good hand. Lute struggled to collect her thoughts, going back over the events of the day she remembered. Getting the Exorcist army together, the battle at the hotel, her defeat by Vaggie and the bitter taste of undeserved mercy, having to stand by while The Princess and her father beat down Adam… Adam's death and the shameful retreat. All of that was crystal clear. Some of it was likely to be forever ingrained in her skull. Everything after that? A blur. Her arm and a few other injuries were bandaged, so she must have gotten some basic medical care. Why this beach though? Protocol dictated that she report the results of the Extermination to The High Seraphim. Her Tower was miles away from this random beach. What would possibly possess her to come here? Has she ever even been to this particular stretch of godforsaken sand before? Lute’s mind thrummed with pain and her thoughts felt distant and scattered. What the fuck was wrong with her?

The sound of soft but quick footsteps in the sand caught her attention, pulling her out of her thoughts. Acting on instinct, Lute swirled around, her remaining hand gripping the hilt of the blade at her waist… but she relaxed slightly at what she saw. It was one of the Heavenbound souls, ‘Winners’ as Adam called them. Those mortal souls who had actually been good enough to earn their eternal reward. The woman was exceptionally tall, curvy, wearing a swimsuit that showed off a frankly indecent amount of peach colored skin and a big dumb sun hat she had tucked her wild hair into. Lute resisted the urge to roll her eyes, mirroring her commander, she had never had much interest in nor time for the mortal souls. Adam occasionally acknowledged the truly worthy or ‘very cool’ among the winners but had little interaction beyond that. Lute hardly cared, her position had given her a simple philosophy. The sinners had been for killing, the winners were to be ignored… but this one was running straight for her.

The mystery woman jogged to a stop in front of Lute, panting lightly from her run. When she seemed to recover, she looked at Lute with an expression of concern and pity. Lute's blood pressure rose slightly. Who was this woman to look down on Lute? 

“Oh dear, are you alright? I saw you fall from the sky from where I was sunning myself. Came over as fast as I could.” The woman worried over Lute, but the angel just swatted her hands away. Lute had fallen? That didn't make any sense. Then again, it would at least explain why her head was pounding.

“Yes yes, thank you for the concern, but can you please fu-” Lute really would prefer to be alone to work this situation out, but the woman cut her off with a dramatic gasp.

“Your arm! Oh Heavens, how could such a thing happen to you?”

“I was in a fight, it- What am I saying, it's none of your business. ” Lute glared at the woman, but couldn't muster up the energy to argue or shove her off. Her head throbbed and thrummed. She must have hit the ground hard. She just needed a few minutes to reassemble the shattered pieces of her psyche. If she could just be left alone and think, she could get her mind in order.

“Your injury seems fresh. Perhaps a flare of pain made you black out and lose control. That’s why you fell.” The woman loomed over Lute, her wide hat casting her face in shadow.

“Y-yes. That… makes sense” The pain in Lute's head seemed to lessen slightly, allowing her clear thought. Of course. She didn't come to the beach on purpose. She was just flying to clear her head after everything that happened, composing herself before facing The High Seraphim. It would have been a mess if she brought such terrible news to Sera while she was still reeling from the battle. While flying her injury spiked with pain and she lost control. Yes. That added up. Simple as that. She looked up at the woman, finding her smiling but still concerned.

“You seem fine after your fall, but maybe you should go get your arm re-bandaged, a tumble through the sand can't have been good for it.” She said, Lute rolled her eyes, she didn't need this mortal’s concern, but getting her bandages redone wasn't a bad thought. Could angels get infections? She’d never been seriously injured before, so this was fairly new territory. Lute didn’t know any Aagel that had suffered true injuries before now… except Vaggie. She shook herself to clear her mind of that particular train of thought. She was messed up enough right now, no need to add fuel to the fire.

“Whatever, I've wasted enough time here. I have a job to do.” Lute shoved the woman aside, stretching out her wings. The Exorcist Army had taken a massive defeat, there was revenge to plan. She would get even with that princess and her pet fallen angel. Lute didn't exactly have any plans or secret weapons yet, but she would figure something out. Once she brought this before Sera and the Council, they would understand. They would give her orders. They would help her set things back the way they were supposed to be… or as close as it could be without Adam. This was merely a misstep. Soon enough, everything would go back to normal and the world would make sense again. Just as she bent her knees to kick off, the woman spoke up again.

“Oh, angel?”

“What now?” Lute ground out, turning her head fractionally as the mystery woman pulled something from behind her back. Adam's Halo.

“This fell in the sand, did you drop it?” She asked innocently.

“Don't touch that.” Lute snatched the halo away with a snarl, the woman holding up her hands in a show of peace. Lute couldn't believe she had almost left it behind. Her brain really must be scrambled. She’d had enough of this stupid fucking detour. Stretching her wings, she shot off before the mystery woman could distract her further. Trying to distract herself from the embarrassment she just went through, Lute turned her mind to more practical matters.

Vengeance.

Charlie and Vaggie would see her soon, and nothing in Heaven or Hell would stop that.

…

Lilith stood alone on the beach, watching Lute fly off into the darkening sky. She wasn’t particularly fond of mental magic, her husband had always said it was anathema to free will… but needs must. It was far from the worst of her sins at this point. It wasn’t time for Lilith to return to her kingdom and Lute was absolutely not the type to keep her mouth shut. Adam had been a terrible influence on that poor girl. It wouldn’t be the end of Lute’s meddling against Hell, Lilith was sure of that, but it was no longer her problem.

Shifting her eyes higher, Lilith saw the first sign of the stars dotting the sky. The timing of all this was more than mere coincidence or cause and effect. She could sense that shifting Lute’s course today had interfered with someone’s plans, but it was hard to tell whose. It didn’t matter, she had her own plans that she couldn’t give up on yet.

For better or worse, whatever happened next was on Lute’s shoulders.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

“-And that pretty much completes the basic tour. I’d love to show you around a bit more, but I’m getting a feeling I need to go check on my big sister. Coming to Heaven so suddenly is a big adjustment for everyone, but we’ve got all kinds of facilities for newcomers. If you go right through there and talk to the lady at the front desk, they’ll get you accommodated with a temporary living space until you find your own. Heaven is a big place and all… though, now that I think about it, it miiight be good for you to hang around, you know, nearby for a bit. Kinda got a feeling that this is going to be big news and we might need you around for some stuff, but gosh, I'm rambling again, really sorry.” Emily had to hold her hands up, pushing out a breath to force herself to calm down. She knew she could get a little rambly whenever she was too excited. Thankfully she was usually pretty good at catching herself. That being said, it was super hard to contain herself right now. 

This was kind of the most cool and exciting thing to happen in the history of Heaven, like, ever.

“It iss no worry, Missss Emily. You have been a most graciouss of hosst, well… conssidering my ssituation” The tall, slender snake man took the top hat from his head and gave her a half bow in a show of gratitude. 

Emily still couldn’t believe it. A sinner redeemed. Just this morning, the serpentine sinner had been in hell. Emily had seen a few glimpses of him during the trial when they were watching over Angel Dust (and perhaps seen his disastrous attempts at flirting, not that Emily would say anything if she had). Now he was here. This sinner, Sir Pentious, had sacrificed himself for his friends in an attempt to stop the Extermination and now he had changed the course of both Heaven and Hell. It was, quite frankly, the most amazing thing Emily had seen in her life!

Sir Pentious shifted his tail as if he was going to leave, but hesitated, fidgeting with the brim of his hat. Emily was rather surprised at how polite and formal Sir Pentious could be, considering he had been in Hell for a century, but it just went to show that one shouldn’t judge based on appearances. Mortal souls tended to have a hard time letting go of habits and mannerisms from their old life, even after centuries. Only more proof that Charlie had been right about Sinners being redeemable people.

“Ahem… Missss Emily? Might I perhaps… ask a favor?”

“Oh? Yeah sure, anything you need! Well, maybe, is it about your egg boys? You mentioned having them as like… minions. They definitely didn’t appear with you, which is odd because I would think they should if they were sinners like you and well ‘re-died’ by your side or whatever.” Scratching her chin in thought, Emily pondered that situation. Honestly, at this point, they were all in new weird and wild territory with the mechanics of Heaven and Hell.

“Oh, no no, not about them. You ssee, my Eggy boiss are not exactly ssinnerss like myself. They are more akin to consstructss, if you are familiar with the concept.” He explained and Emily nodded along. Living constructs or Golems were not a foreign concept. Anyone could make them, it was just a matter of how well a person could craft the body or program the personality. Such things were often made for menial labor like picking up trash. Seeing that Emily was following along, the Sinner continued, “This being ssaid, I do hate sseeing them killed, each new group iss never quite the ssame.” he gave a sigh, looking off into the distance, likely locked in memories of his last moments in hell.

“... do you lay them?” Emily asked, eyes shifting down to the snake man’s tail in a skeptical fashion.

“W-w-what?” Sir pentious sputtered, looking scandalized as he held his hat closer to his chest, attempting to shield himself from Emily’s inquiries. “That iss a mosst inappropriate question, Missss Emily! Do have ssome decorum.” 

“Sorry! Sorry.” Emily held up her hands placatingly, “it’s just… you are a snake and snakes lay e-”

“Missss Emily. Please. The favor I wished to discussss, if you don’t mind.” Forcing the conversation back on track, Sir Pentious fixed Emily with a serious stare. Emily gave a small nod, containing her desire to ask more questions about magic snake eggs. It wasn’t like she’d had the opportunity to ask before today. Seeing that Emily was listening intently, Sir Pentious continued, “Right… If it iss at all possible, well, I know that my ssacrifice likely amounted to very little against a foe ssuch as Adam. As much as being in Heaven now is quite lovely, I would very much like to… get any information about the aftermath of the battle. I-i am quite concerned about the fate of my companionss, particularly my dear Cher- err, well, that iss to say, well… I am worried for all of my friendss. Ah none in particular for any particular reason. Concerned about all of my friendss. Equally. Ah erm… yess.”

Emily gave a small smile, getting the less than subtle subtext in Sir Pentious’ fumblings. She knew he must be so worried about them. In a way, Emily was too. The battle sounded horrible, even if Charlie and her friends were fighting back, she doubted anyone got out of fighting Adam and his army with only scrapes and bruises. 

“Sera and I couldn’t bear to watch the extermination ourselves and then when you came, I know I was certainly distracted. But! We have the means to look into Hell with a bit of magic, and we are definitely going to be looking into this whole situation bigtime. I promise you, on my honor as a Seraphim; as soon as I know something, I will come and find you Sir Pentious.” Emily explained, pumping her fists in a determined fashion. A smile slowly made its way back onto the redeemed Sinner’s face as this seemed to satisfy him.

“Then that iss all I can assk for. Good day to you, Missss Emily.'' he said, bowing again before he replaced the hat on his head and slithered away. 

Emily floated there, watching him go for a moment. She couldn’t lie, she was curious to see what happened with the Extermination as well. Well, she wasn’t exactly looking forward to watching the events unfold. Even the thought of violence turned her stomach. There would probably be a lot of skimming, but she was determined to get the facts. This was too important not to know, she refused to be kept in the dark again. More importantly, she was looking forward to finding the fastest possible way to get word back to Charlie. Oh man, Charlie was going to be so excited! Her plan worked, a sinner got redeemed! It was the first step towards a new future. The princess is going to absolutely lose her mind when she hears the good news!

As excited as she was, there were probably a few more steps to go through before she got the chance to get in contact.

She turned, spreading her wings wide and began making her way back to her home. Flying above the heights of Heaven to its tallest tower. The home of the Seraphim. The extravagant building was just a little ostentatious, but the view was spectacular. Emily had a feeling about how things were about to go, and it wouldn’t be as easy as the chat with Sir Pentious. Only a few days ago, she wouldn’t have dreamed about needing to psyche herself up to talk with Sera… but so much had changed since the trial.

Sera had been, and still was, the most important person in Emily's world. Her big sister that she loved more than life itself, but now that affection was tainted by the truth. The horrible truth of what Sera had done. It still made her chest ache, but Emily wouldn’t take it back. There was no room in this life for her to go back to believing some convenient lie. She had to stand for the truth, for the future of Heaven and Hell. Whether Sera liked it or not.

Alighting on the balcony, she fumbled around through her dress to produce a small silver key. Nobody really bothered with locked doors in Heaven, the residents of Heaven weren’t exactly the type to steal things. The only things really kept under lock and key were the armory of angelic weapons and supposedly there were some vaults or something of important stuff that Emily was never really told about… and Sera’s tower. Sera liked to have all the doors and windows locked, it helped her feel safe and at ease. Emily had always been willing to accommodate the elder Seraphim on such matters, but only now she was starting to see the origins of where such a paranoia might stem from. Making her way in and locking the door behind her, Emily floated along through the halls.

It wasn’t much of a surprise that she found Sera right where she left her. Still sitting at the table, unmoved since Sir Pentious’ unexpected arrival. The only difference was that Sera was staring wide-eyed but shockingly still at the table in front of her.

On review, it was really rather odd that Sir Pentious manifested right in their parlor rather than where most heavenbound souls appear, at the gates with Saint Peter. Was that… divine intervention? Perhaps. Emily hoped it was. Even if Emily had never met God, it was a nice thought that they might be on her and Charlie’s side. It would be something to mull over later though. She had more important issues. Namely, dealing with Sera’s current state.

Emily made a point of closing the door to the room slightly harder than necessary. Not loud, but just enough for Sera to register the sound. The elder Seraphim twitched at the noise, snapping out of her stupor. She looked around, spotting Emily, her expression softening marginally.

“Ah… back so soon?” Sera asked and Emily resisted the urge to point out that it had been well over two hours since she had left with the redeemed Sinner… The Redeemed? That was kind of catchy. Since there would hopefully be many more like Sir Pentious arriving, they’d need a name for the new arrivals as a group. 

“Yes, I gave Sir Pentious a quick tour and helped him get settled in. Usual stuff that Saint Peter or the welcoming committee would do, but well… special case.” Emily slipped back into her chair with a shrug. Sera nodded along, looking relieved.

“That was… that was wise. And an understatement.” Sera made an attempt to laugh, but it sounded hollow. “A… redeemed Sinner.”

“It’s great isn’t it? Charlie was right all along, the hotel really can work! The Sinners can get a second chance, I mean, think of what this means Sera!” Emily gushed, she’d been working to hold in her excitement about this all day. In truth, she just wanted to get this conversation over with quickly so she could get in contact with Charlie. Surely there had to be a way? Apparently Sera had some way to talk with Charlie’s dad to set up the last trial, so communication between realms existed but it was never something she thought to ask about. Never had a reason to before now. She really should have gotten Charlie’s number or something when they visited, dumb of her. Did phone calls work between Heaven and Hell? She'd never tried. She turned to Sera to ask exactly how one might go about contacting the Hellborn princess, only for her excitement to die on seeing the look of dawning horror on Sera’s face.

“Sinners can be redeemed. Sinners can be redeemed .” Sera repeated, her hand twitching and tapping out an irregular rhythm on the table surface. “Have… have they always been able to be redeemed? If so, why has no sinner in ten thousand years been redeemed until now? It… it just doesn’t make sense. B-but there he was. A sinner, right in front of us. In Heaven. Revived. Redeemed. Real. It’s real. Sinners can be redeemed.”

Concern rising, Emily slid from her chair to take a step closer to Sera. The elder Seraphim seemed to be struggling to focus, descending into an increasingly erratic rant.

“Maybe it was the Princess actually having an influence? Maybe this was always bound to happen? H-how could we have known? It's been so long since we had any guidance. I did what I thought was right, what was necessary. We only found out because the extra Extermination pushed th- oh… oh god.” Sera’s face turned a shade paler, looking sickened. Her breathing began to pick up pace. “The Exterminations. If sinners can be redeemed… There have been hundreds of Exterminations. Thousands and thousands. Untold thousands of Sinners slain to cull the population. Even if only one in a thousand Sinners could have found redemption… Oh god. I allowed this. I-i condemned thousands of souls that might have been saved. I… i… i-i didn’t know. I didn’t-” Sera’s rant increased to a fever pitch at this revelation. Her mind was so lost in her thoughts that she couldn’t keep her humanoid form together. Dozens of eyes shot open wide, mimicking the panic of her own face. Her trembling hands finally seemed to catch purchase, nails scratching first against and then into the marble surface of the table as her hands began to shift into eagle-like hooked talons. She descended further into muttering and rambling between erratic panicked breathing. Emily could bear to see it no more.

There was the temptation to rush forward and attempt to comfort Sera, but Emily had learned better. This had to be handled a certain way. She moved slowly and deliberately to close the space between them. Sera hardly seemed to notice until Emily gently reached forward and lifted Sera’s claws from the table and wrapped her own hands around them. Sera visibly twitched at the contact but didn’t shy away, though she still seemed lost in the depths of her emotional episode. Emily didn’t say anything, but simply held the Seraphim’s hands and began slow, regular breathing. It took about a minute, but Sera finally seemed to catch onto the rhythm of Emily’s breathing and mimic it, slowly easing herself down.

“Five things Sera,” Emily said simply, locking eyes with Sera. The Seraphim nodded meekly, closing her eyes for a breath, before opening them and letting them wander around the room. Naming objects between breaths. Emily guided Sera through each of the steps. 5 things she could see, 4 things she could touch, 3 to hear, 2 to smell, and 1 to taste. It was a simple, yet effective grounding technique that Emily picked up from one of the many Heavenbound she interacted with. Apparently studies of and treatments for mental health had been coming along rather well on Earth. Emily had found it a useful thing to pick up. Many new arrivals took the news poorly, despite being in Heaven, dying was an adjustment. Knowing how to comfort new arrivals was very helpful. More importantly, it worked really well for Sera. Sera often got overwhelmed with her responsibilities and while such episodes were rare, Emily had a good bit of practice dealing with them.

“... Thank you Emily.” Sera managed, breathing more evenly now, still squeezing Emily’s hands like a lifeline. She was happy to let her. “I am… sorry. You know my mind can… can run away with me.”

“It's okay Sera, you don’t have to apologize for that… This is a lot, I get it.” It made Emily sad how ashamed and embarrassed Sera seemed to become after an episode. Sera seemed to think that her anxiety was some terrible flaw, that Angels were not supposed to suffer such things. Emily couldn't follow the logic, Sera was a person just as anyone else. Some people just had anxiety, with any number of reasons why. It didn't make Sera a bad person… but they'd had that discussion before, Sera was always so unwilling to let herself off the hook for any mistakes or imperfections. Emily wondered now if Sera's poor self image had been partly to do with ordering the Exterminations in the first place. 

Emily worked a hand free just enough to make a gesture, golden light flashing and manifesting a set of fresh tea. A smell of chamomile and lavender filled the room. Sera gave a thankful nod, letting Emily go to begin pouring them each a cup. They took a few minutes, allowing Sera to fully calm down. Thankfully, Emily didn’t have to wait very long for the conversation to resume.

“This does… change things. For both realms. Did this sinner-”

“Sir Pentious.”

“Ah, thank you. Did Sir Pentious tell you the nature of his redemption?” Sera asked, sitting back in a vain attempt to relax. She was still far from it, based on the small twitches of her wings, but she didn’t seem on the verge of a panic attack anymore.

“Riiiiight… about that. You, uhm,  might want to brace yourself for this Sera.” laughing nervously, Emily drummed her fingers on the outside of her cup. Sera looked confused, but took a moment to compose herself, gesturing for Emily to continue. “Well, I spoke with Sir Pentious about the extra Extermination and things did not go very well. For anyone. Apparently, the residents of the hotel decided to… fight back. Which they could because someone figured out that Angelic weapons can harm and kill… angels” Emily said, expecting Sera to freak out again.

To Sera's credit, Sera managed to not have another panic attack, but it was clearly held back at great effort. Though her grip visibly tightened on her teacup and Emily was fairly sure she could hear the porcelain protest.

“So, Sir Pentious was kind of commanding the fight, yelling tactics and stuff. They managed to kill quite a few Exorcists. Mixed feelings about that. That is, until Adam started throwing his weight around and ruined the plan. Adam was a huge threat, so Sir Pentious took it upon himself to do what he could for his friends. He quickly confessed to his crush, which I thought was super cute by the way, then he climbed in his ship and tried to fire a death ray to distract Adam… but then he got obliterated and popped back up here.”

Sera took a good and long sip of tea as she digested that information. Meanwhile, Emily shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She wasn't as naive as people thought she was. While she was very pro getting a Sinner redeemed, she could see how this situation was less than ideal from Sera’s perspective. Sera's reasoning for starting the Exterminations was to protect Heaven from Sinners becoming a threat, and now Sinners were fully capable of being a threat and had ample motivation to challenge the rule of Heaven. There was definitely a non-zero chance of this escalating from Extermination to Purge if Sera took it poorly. Thankfully, her sister looked more contemplative than panicked.

“I suppose whatever work this Sir Pentious had done with Charlie and his self sacrifice must have fulfilled some unknown requirements for redemption. How bizarre. We will need to get our own eyes on the events of the Extermination and interrogate Adam and the Exorcists when they return… which should have happened by now, I wonder why they haven't come to report?'' Sera spoke mostly to herself, as she often did when putting together a mental checklist. Emily breathed a sigh of relief, glad the first thing on Sera's mind wasn't more violence. Today had caught her sister off guard, but she seemed to be getting back on a track that Emily was happy to follow.

“I agree. We also need to talk to Charlie and tell her the good news! A redeemed sinner means we can stop the Exterminations right?” Emily was practically bouncing in her chair. 

“I… am not sure if we should make any rash decisions.” Sera muttered, face twisting with shame from the glare Emily threw her way.

“Sera! you were just worried about losing redeemable souls to careless Exterminations. Now that we know redemption is possible, there is no excuse for these awful killings!” Raising her voice was not something Emily was prone to doing, but she and Sera had done a lot of arguing about this particular point of interest since the trial.

“Emily… please don’t look at me like that.” taking a long breath, Sera began to explain. “We… I still don’t know exactly how redemption works or honestly what makes a soul worthy of Heaven. One redemption is significant, but it's not proof that a functional system can be established. The population of Hell is still incredibly high, especially now that the secret to fighting back against Heaven has been leaked. We still have to consider our own safety and our duty to those in our care. Emily, my dear, I… have seen war in Heaven. It is a thing that I pray you will never have to understand, and I will do whatever I must to keep it that way.”

Emily wanted to argue, but she saw the pain and fear in Sera’s eyes. Sera didn’t like to talk about the time before Emily came to be. Emily had heard stories of the fall of Lucifer, but nothing in detail. Whatever had happened had left deep scars on Sera and pushed the Archangels to retire. It can’t have been a pleasant time. Still, Emily wasn’t going to let this chance for Charlie and her hotel slip by.

“You have to give them a chance.” Emily stated defiantly “It costs us nothing to put off the next Extermination and give Charlie and her friends time to figure things out. Not to mention, doing so would show Heaven’s mercy, wouldn’t it? Doubling down or anything is only going to upset Hell further.” 

Sera opened her mouth to retort… but slowly closed it and considered what Emily said. Emily knew she made a good point, if Sera wanted to avoid further retaliation, then peaceful communication was the only correct method. After a beat, Sera gave a small nod of assent, much to Emily’s delight.

“That is… surprisingly wise of you. Very well, a delay and perhaps a direct discussion might do well to put out fires before they start… but first, we will learn the rest of these events of this Extermination, then speak with the council. I realize I have upset many, especially you, by acting in the shadows in regards to the treatment of Hell and the Sinners. Going forward, we will work openly and transparently… together?” The last part of the statement was more of a question towards Emily, who squealed happily and rushed over to hug Sera.

Just as the sisters enjoyed the hug, a frantic knocking sound interrupted them, making Sera jolt. She glanced around, seeing nothing in the immediate area, her eyes flashed with light. Sera's face twisted into a frown, the slight hopeful mood evaporating in favor of mild annoyance and confusion.

“It's the Lieutenant at the balcony, likely here to make a report about the Extermination. I wonder why she came alone…” Sera looked off in the direction of the entrance balcony. Sighing, she gave Emily a last small squeeze. “Go, I will deal with the Lieutenant, you can get a headstart on arranging things for the council meeting. We can talk more over dinner.”

Emily nodded. It was for the best, she didn't particularly get along with Lute, even on the handful of times she's worked with the Exorcist to arrange Adam's concerts. There was so much to do and plan anyway. Promising to see Sera soon, Emily floated off towards her room, eager to get to work.

The next few days were going to be long, likely upsetting, and the future was uncertain, but hopefully with some effort, they might look towards a better future.

Of course, no sooner than that thought left her mind, Sera's voice echoed throughout the Tower.

“ADAM IS WHAT!?”

Oh… cheese and crackers, that was probably a bad sign.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t the first time that Vaggie thought about how Charlie’s Bed was just a little too big. 

Even if she had been sharing Charlie’s bed for the last three years, Vaggie was often still unused to dealing with the casual luxury her Princess enjoyed. The king sized four poster bed outfitted with feather pillows and silk sheets was a world away from the humble Exorcist army standard twin bed that Vaggie had slept on for a century and a half. Vaggie didn’t know what to do with all the extra bed space and while it was a great place for… nighttime activities, it tended to become a problem in the mornings. 

Such a huge bed made it all the harder to escape her girlfriend’s cuddle radius. Not the worst problem to have, but Vaggie was an early riser by nature. In Heaven, she had spent her life getting up at the crack of dawn to train and exercise. Such habits were hard to kill. She couldn't exactly rise with the sun these days… No sun in Hell. However, the giant ominous floating Pentagram that loomed over the Ring of Pride did brighten and dim in a rough approximation of a day and night cycle, so it served as a good enough substitute. With the red tinted light of the Pentagram beginning to shine through the windows, it was time to get up… Easier said than done. 

That's where the issue of the large bed and a cuddly girlfriend turn against her. Charlie was not a morning person, which might surprise most people who know her. Oh sure, once she was up and awake, Charlie was a creature of boundless energy and enthusiasm. The princess really only had one setting while she was vertical, and that was ‘Go’... However, it was getting Charlie up that was the issue. The Princess was not easy to wake up and had a tendency to snuggle anything she could get her hands on, be that big stuffed animals or her personal angel.

Despite time and practice, the act of escaping Charlie’s cuddly embrace was more art than science at this stage. Vaggie had just managed to slip her legs free and start pulling away when the arms around her stomach tightened rather than let her slip free. Vaggie just sighed and shook her head.

“Hun, we do this every morning.” she chided lovingly, looking over her shoulder at the half awake princess, who gave an inarticulate mumble in reply. Truly a sound argument. Vaggie reached down and carefully pulled Charlie's hands off her, earning more whines of protest as she finally slipped free and scooted to the edge of the oversized bed. Charlotte Morningstar, firstborn daughter of Lucifer and future queen of hell, laid on her stomach and lazily reached her hands in vain to try and grasp at Vaggie while giving a small but extended ‘noooooooo’ in the cutest sleepy voice imaginable. It made Vaggie's heart melt a little, but she was strong in her resolve.

“Come on Charlie, I've gotta get up and start my work out, you can't keep me in bed all day.” she chuckled, stepping away to peel off her nightgown and pick out her clothes for the morning. Today was feeling like a day for cardio… and well, flying? Vaggie needed to get back in the habit of stretching out her wings.

“I can certainly try.” Charlie half growled behind her. Vaggie made the mistake of looking back at her and meeting the princess' gaze. Her eyes had switched from their usual soft, pastel yellow and red and inverted into the more demonic scarlet and gold. The intensity of the stare and the subtle purr in Charlie's throat made Vaggie's mouth feel suddenly dry. It should be studied how quickly Charlie could flip that particular switch. One subtle change and she went from sleepy princess to waiting predator.

They had always warned her of the temptations of hell.

“ Dios te salve, Maria.” Barely managing to keep her voice level, Vaggie had to take a second to gather her resolve and forcibly break the intense staring contest. She would be strong in the face of the Devil's temptations… at least until tonight. With great effort, she resumed getting dressed and turned her back on Charlie “That's not playing fair.”

“... Usually works.” came the mumbled reply behind her.

Vaggie just chuckled to herself, the slight creak of springs telling her that Charlie had crawled further under the blankets to avoid waking up. Vaggie would usually only actually push her to get out of bed after her morning exercise anyway.

Just as she was tying her hair up for a quick flight and a run, a sudden buzzing sound drew her attention to the bedside table. Vaggie frown, looking over to see Charlie’s phone flashing with several messages popping up on the screen in rapid succession. A bit weird for Charlie to be getting texts so early.

“Hey babe, someone’s blowing up your phone.”

“... tell them to go awaaaaay.” whined the bundle of blankets that had consumed the Princess of Hell. 

Vaggie rolled her eye, stepping over to at least shift the phone to silent mode for Charlie’s sake. Tapping the screen, Charlie was entirely too trusting to have her phone be password locked, Vaggie’s finger hovered over the ‘do not disturb’ setting… It was rude to read your girlfriend’s texts. A sign of a lack of trust, and she had just had a whole episode dealing with trust issues with Charlie. Vaggie wouldn’t have stooped so low if a new message hadn’t popped up right then and there.

Seviathan: It’s been long enough, aren’t you about done with your little experiment?

Vaggie blinked at the message. The name was unfamiliar to Vaggie and devoid of the usual embellishment of Emojis that Charlie usually added onto her contacts. An experiment? Was this person talking about the Hotel? Vaggie stared at the message for several long seconds. She shouldn’t ask. Charlie was entitled to her secrets, especially after what Vaggie had kept from her. She should let it go… but temptation won this time.

“Charlie?”

“Mhm?”

“Who’s Seviathan?”

The normally terminally sleepy princess sat bolt upright in bed at the mention of the name, eyes wide. She quickly composed herself, shifting to a more relaxed looking position and plastering on quite possibly the most forced smile Vaggie had ever seen.

“S-seviathan? Ol’ Sev? He is- uh, he's well, that is to say. Uhm, Sevvy is just a friend… of the family! Friend of the family and no one particularly important.” Charlie blurted out in rapid succession. She really was just one of the worst liars, you'd think being the daughter of the Devil would have given her a leg up in that department. “how uh, do you know that name and why do you ask?”

Vaggie just raised an eyebrow at Charlie's display. Yeah, that's not how you react to ‘just a friend’. Deep down, Vaggie knew she was falling into ‘jealous girlfriend’ territory, reading her texts and asking about her contacts but she couldn't help it. Something about the situation rubbed her the wrong way.

“Whoever he is has been blowing up your phone something fierce. Seems to know you pretty well.” Vaggie held the phone out, it buzzed again with a new message as she did so to prove her point.

Fake smile melting to an annoyed frown, Charlie took the phone from Vaggie and scrolled through the dozen or so texts she'd received. Considering the way her frown deepened as she scrolled, she didn't have a positive opinion on this Seviathan person, so that was a small mercy. After Charlie shot back a short, angry looking reply, she made a show of putting the phone on ‘do not disturb’ mode and dropped it to the bed.

Charlie looked upset, but not proper demon mode angry. The Princess took a second making a motion of taking a deep breath in, and pushing it out to center herself before she looked back at Vaggie, a mix of emotions on her face. Vaggie just raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response. Charlie avoided direct eye contact, twiddling with her thumbs for a second before she mustered up a reply.

“ Okay… so, knee jerk reaction. I didn't mean to lie, or rather, omit the truth? I guess?”

Vaggie sighed, sitting on the bed next to Charlie. This topic clearly was uncomfortable for Charlie, and Vaggie probably shouldn't have pushed it. She needed to be more trusting. “Hey, it's okay. I… I shouldn't be reading your texts anyway. That was dumb of me. If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to.”

“No, you're fine, really. It's just… not a bad topic, more embarrassing. Not something I thought to bring up. But, well, we talked a lot about being better at communication and honesty between us, and I'd be a real butt if I didn't practice what I preach.” The angel revelation had been a huge strain on their relationship, but after some outside help and a good long talk they had come out all the stronger for it. Vaggie really ought to send Carmilla and Rosie a thank you card or something. Charlie took a few seconds to hype herself up before she continued, “Seviathan was… My ex-boyfriend.”

Through great and terrible effort, Vaggie managed to keep all of her screaming internal. “O-oh. Uhm, recent ex, I'm assuming?”

“More like my only ex. I broke up with him like a year before I met you.'' Charlie sighed, the memory clearly unpleasant. It was some relief to Vaggie that there had been enough space between that breakup and their relationship so Vaggie could be sure she wasn't some kind of rebound hookup. 

“A year before you met me? Isn't that about the time your mom left?”

“Yup. Not a great year.” Charlie nodded glumly. “Mom disappears without warning, Dad buried himself in his workshop, my Aunts and Uncles were busy with their own rings so I was kind of on my own. That's when I threw myself into the Hotel idea. A bit ashamed that it took all that to make me get off my butt and start trying to help my people, but once I did I really found my purpose. I wanted to help them, to make their lives better.”

A soft smile came over Vaggie, warmth fluttering in her chest. No matter how many times she saw it, there was just something infectious about the excited gleam in Charlie's eye whenever she talked about her dreams. Even if Charlie could be a little naive and didn't always know what she was doing, her desire to help and uplift those around her was so sincere you couldn't help but be swept along with it. Vaggie could remember days back in a musty old wreck of a building, sitting on the only intact couch as she watched Charlie gush and plan out the future of the hotel and all the facilities they would have. That honest enthusiasm had made Vaggie fall hard and fast, and sometimes she still felt like a girl with a crush all these years later.

“Though, as much as I found purpose in the project… Sev didn't.” Charlie continued, turning a glare at the phone as if Seviathan would feel her irritation. “He couldn't be bothered to care about the Sinners and didn't believe in redemption even a little. He thought the whole thing was just me trying to distract myself from Mom's disappearance… which yeah, kind of how it started but It became more than that! We got into a big argument about it and he ended up storming off, saying he'd be back whenever I was done with my ‘little project’ and we haven't spoken since.”  Shaking her head, Charlie put her hand in Vaggie's, giving her a small squeeze. “I moved on, and now I have an amazing girlfriend who actually supports all my stupid plans.”

Giggling, Vaggie placed a kiss on Charlie's cheek. “Your plans aren't stupid, hun, just a little half baked at times… Sorry if I came off as jealous over the whole text thing. Don't know what came over me.”

“Hey, it's okay. You make me happy, Sev didn't. That chapter of my life is behind me. Besides, I'm sure you have plenty of Exes for me to get jealous over.” She teased, getting up from the bed and going to get dressed since she was up and awake now. A few seconds of silence while Charlie walked to her closet had the princess looking back at Vaggie with a raised eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Weeeeell, Adam didn't really encourage us interacting much with the rest of Heaven. Less chance of letting slip the Extermination secret-”

“Still fucked up that was a secret.” Charlie said, picking a dark grey button up instead of her usual white.

“No argument there, but orders were orders. So that meant the dating pool was limited to mostly other Exorcists. Most of which weren't into girls. The ones that were into girls and wanted a long term relationship had paired off long before I came to be, new girls were so rare. In the end, outside of a few irregular hookups and a long term unrequited crush, my relationship prospects were pretty bleak.” Vaggie sighed, banishing thoughts of said crush from her mind before they could find root. Best to leave that long buried. She looked up to find Charlie's big eyes brimming with tears.

“Y-y-you mean I-i was your first g-girl-girlfriend??” The princess managed between hiccups and sobs. Charlie was a big blob of emotions as always, apparently overwhelmed at the prospect of being Vaggie's first girlfriend.

“Yes, and the best girlfriend.” Vaggie said, standing up and holding her arms out for a hug, which Charlie immediately jumped into, blubbering  promises about being a good girlfriend all the while. Charlie was such an adorable crybaby. 

After a bit, Vaggie got the princess to stop crying and focus on getting ready with the reminder that she needed to beat Alastor to the kitchen. It was a rather funny thing. Charlie got along rather well with the intimidating Radio Demon, potentially seeing him as something of a mentor figure. She was weirdly able to excuse or remain (willfully) ignorant of his more sadistic habits… but the two could not agree on breakfast for the life of them. Weirder still, it was one of the few genuinely nice and selfless things Alastor did, being willing to cook breakfast for others without being asked, but Charlie actively tried to prevent him from doing it.

The ideological divide between them on the subject laid in the type of breakfasts they would prepare. Charlie, being a being of manifest puppies and rainbows, obviously had a sweet tooth and preferred to start the day with something sweet. Pancakes, waffles, French toast, crepes, and even some baked goods such as coffee cake and monkey bread. Hell, one time Charlie even managed to whip up a fresh batch of homemade doughnuts in record time (Vaggie was sure ‘made with love' was code ‘made with sorcery’). Alastor was on the opposite end of the spectrum. Despite his… strange tastes for his personal meals, he had quite the talent when it came to making food for others, though his tastes ran more towards the savory.  His passions for ‘good southern cooking' often resulted in more hearty breakfast options. Loads of bacon, sausage, eggs, biscuits and gravy, hash browns, cheesy grits, and so on. The rare occasion they had collaborated and agreed on breakfast had resulted in fried chicken and waffles, which Vaggie had thought to be an utterly nonsense combination at first, but turned out to work surprisingly well.

The residents of the hotel rarely lacked variety over breakfast at least.

After helping Charlie get dressed and ready, Vaggie was ready to go off on her morning run, but something still bothered her about the Seviathan situation. Charlie had made it clear she had no interest in the former relationship, but Vaggie couldn't quite let it rest. Her memories flicked back to visiting Lucifer's mansion, which the King had graciously lent them as a place to sleep during the hotel rebuild. Lucifer plastered the walls with pictures of his family, especially of Charlie. One in particular had caught her eye, of a much younger looking Charlie posing hand in hand with a grey skinned demon with aquatic features and a cocky smile. Had that been Seviathan? For Charlie to look younger in the picture, it had to be pretty old given Charlie’s immortal nature. How long had they been together?

“Hey babe?”

“Hmm?” Charlie paused on her way out the door, giving Vaggie a curious look.

“Small question of curiosity. About… How long were you and Sev together? If you don't mind me asking.”

“Oh… huh.” Charlie blinked, biting her thumb as she stopped to do some mental math. “Well, we've known each other since we were kids. The Von Eldritch Family was close with my parents and all, but we didn't date till we were in high school. Never counted the exact amount of time, but probably about 130 years or so?” She explained casually.

“ O-oh. Okay.” Vaggie croaked.

—

Vaggie liked to think she was a rational, logical person. She made an effort to think through her decisions before she acted on them. Especially since she had come to Hell, she had been forced to internalize and process some heavy revelations in regard to being cast down and the reality of her role as an Exorcist. Okay, sure, lying to Charlie about it wasn't the best idea, but part of those revelations had been learning that Angels do, in fact, make mistakes contrary to what a particular Lieutenant thinks.

A run, flight, and breakfast had helped calm her down from this morning’s excitement in regard to learning about Charlie’s ex. The smart, rational part of her brain told her that their relationship was not actually in danger. Charlie clearly responded negatively to the texts and Vaggie knew that Charlie loved her. Even if Vaggie often doubted she was worthy of that love, she knew it was genuine. If Charlie didn't leave her over the Exorcist thing, it was pretty damn unlikely that Charlie was going to leave her for an old ex.

That was what the rational part of her mind said.

The irrational trash gremlin in her brain had other ideas.

Because, holy fucking shit, Charlie had been going straight with a guy for nearly as long as Vaggie had been alive. How the fuck was she supposed to compare to that?? Vaggie was a Heavenborn angel, making her immortal… but she was still on the younger end of that spectrum. Sir Pentious had technically been older than her if you counted his mortal and immortal life. She still occasionally struggled with the sheer scope of time that some people around her operated on. Dating someone for over a century? She could barely comprehend it. How intimately close Seviathan and Charlie must have been after all that time. She'd only known Charlie for five years, only been dating her for three. Relative to her relationship with Seviathan, their relationship was barely in its infancy. Even if Charlie and Seviathan had a big disagreement over the Hotel project, surely he must still be a better partner than Vaggie for them to have stayed together so long, right? 

Charlie had said that his family was close to hers, which implied that Seviathan’s family was probably of very high rank in Hell. The man himself was probably far more powerful and important than Vaggie could everbe. She was just some random cast down angel, who was she to be dating the Princess of Hell?

Surprisingly, that last thought was what saved Vaggie from a full on spiral. Charlie was the daughter of The Devil, the man who brought sin into the world. There was a word for what Vaggie was feeling. More than just mere jealousy, she was feeling envious of Charlie and Seviathan’s past relationship. The deadly sin of Envy. Vaggie was probably just falling under its influence as part of some strange fallen angel puberty. Which meant if she talked to an expert in Sin, these bad feelings would magically go away… she hoped.

There did happen to be an expert in Sin available to her, which led her to her current situation. Standing in front of the Devil's door.

Vaggie stared at the door for several seconds, nerves twisting her gut. Lucifer was a … strange figure to interact with at the best of times. Honestly, it was clear to see that Charlie took after her father in many ways. They shared a very kind and genuine, if a little goofy, nature. Lucifer even tended to take jokes and disrespectful commentary pretty well, better than most powerful people in Hell anyway. At a glance, the man seemed downright harmless… just, Vaggie knew better. Lucifer was still the most powerful entity in Hell by several orders of magnitude, the king of Hell, the original fallen angel, and most terrifying of all, her girlfriend's dad.

But, this was important and she had nowhere else to go.

She knocked on the door a few times. Loud enough to be heard but hopefully not enough to be disruptive.

“Uhm, Mr. Morningstar, er Lucifer… sir? It's Vaggie. I was hoping to talk with you for a bit. I, uh, brought breakfast?” no sooner than the words left her mouth, than the double doors burst open with a rush of light and… choir music? No, not questioning that. Hell was home to constant bouts of inexplicable music and choreographed dance. Better to just leave it without comment to avoid starting a musical number.

“Baggie! Good to see ya, great to see ya!” Lucifer stood there in all his very short glory, stepping out and crushing Vaggie in an unasked for hug.

“It's Vaggie.” she squeaked out before she was released and allowed to breathe.

“Vaggie! Always got time for the girlfriend. Actually, glad you came by. Been working on stuff all night, was going to show Charlie buuuut you'll do for a second set of eyes. Cool? Cool. Come on.” he was behind her faster than Vaggie had time to process, pushing Vaggie into the room. It was like dealing with Charlie on a sugar high.

The reasonably sized office was one of the two extensions built onto the top level of the new hotel, naturally on the extreme opposite end from Alastor's radio tower. Lucifer had wanted a place for him to stay at the hotel so he didn't have to waste time portalling back and forth. He had only officially moved in a day or two ago, but the space was already crowded. Walls decorated with photos and paintings of his family and- holy shit, is that what Lilith looked like? Ay, dios mío… right. Don’t ogle Lucifer’s wife in his presence. The space was more of a workshop than an office actually. Various kinds of crafting tables and benches, racks of tools (some she recognized, some she definitely didn't), a mobile chalkboard and cork board, both already crammed with papers, drawings and crisscrossing red thread. The desk was piled high with loose documents and stacks of books. Topping it all off was a surprisingly modest cot shoved in the corner to act as a bed.

“Okay, okay. Just step over here. No no, little to the left. Back a step. Perfect.” Lucifer began grabbing different sheets off his desk, seemingly knowing exactly where everything he wanted was despite the clutter. He slid over to Vaggie, holding up a series of incredibly detailed building schematics. Hand drawn. “So, these are just a couple of the starting designs, but Char-char and I were talking last night about the whole hotel thing and getting Sinners redeemed and it actually really got me to sit down and reeeally think about why people sin and how to redeem that. So that’s when I started going on a deep di- wait, you mentioned breakfast?”

“Monte Cristo.” Vaggie answered mechanically, producing a sandwich neatly wrapped in wax paper. Lucifer snatched it greedily and started tearing open the paper. Vaggie was just desperately thankful for the sparse few seconds to let her brain catch up to Lucifer’s breakneck pace.

“Now that I think about it, I don't think I’ve had any solid food in the last thirty six hours or so. Oooh, powdered sugar” Lucifer opened his maw of sharp teeth and took a distressingly large bite of the sandwich. After a few seconds of chewing, he went on back to his explanation, “sho, arbut finners rnd rrdurhmm-”

“Ah… sorry to interrupt. Can’t really understand you with food in your mouth… sir.” Vaggie gave her best apologetic smile. Lucifer blinked at her, but then nodded and turned back to his sandwich. He devoured it in record time, clearly eager to get back to his little presentation.

“Right! So, Sinners and Redemption. Charlie and I agreed that while trust falls and sharing circles are really cool, they don’t exactly have enough impact on the redemption front. Clearly we need to go bigger. Dig down into the root of Sin. Not the Root of All Evil, that’s something completely different. Anywho.” Lucifer went on, leaving Vaggie slightly frightened by how little the man seemed to pause for breath. Also, he seemed to kind of skim over the root of all evil thing, was referring to like a literal root or- “so, I did a little thinking, a little pondering on why humans sin. Obviously, there are the big seven sins and all but that didn’t quite feel like the right answer. I’ve known all the sins since we fell from Heaven, most of them are entirely decent people. Mammon is a bit of an ass, but he just needs the occasional reminder on how to treat people and do really hard things like have original ideas for theme parks!” he hissed, but recovered quickly and continued.

“So, after some thinking, I was feeling stumped and hopped up topside for inspiration. Figured I’d catch some future sinners in action, see what’s on their mind. What really guides the hand, you know?”

“Wait… topside? Like Earth? You can just go to the land of the living, whenever you want?” Vaggie asked, her brain was already struggling to process this conversation, but that particular nugget of information was clogging the pipes.

“Uh, yeah? I’m the Devil, I do what I want” Lucifer chuckled to himself. Vaggie blinked, thinking over the implications of that. Did that mean… Vaggie opened her mouth to ask a question, but Lucifer cut her off. “If you ask any questions about Georgia, then I swear to god Vagatha, I will rain brimstone and fury upon you.”

“... That’s not my name.” 

“ It will be when I’m done with you .” Lucifer hissed. Vaggie… did not know what that implied as a threat, but she didn’t want to find out.

“G-got it. No asking about Georgia. So, researching sinners.” Vaggie nervously prompted, Lucifer instantly relaxed and launched back into his infodump.

“Yes! Well, I didn’t really see anything I hadn’t seen before, so instead I grabbed a few books for light reading.” Lucifer zipped back over to the desk, slapping his hand on the massive stack of books. “Did you know Humans have really advanced studies in mental and behavioral health? It's wild! Turns out, like the majority of the reasons to commit sin and lead such negative lives can all be linked to untreated mental health issues, criminalization of addiction, and struggling to live without access to basic resources prompting a need to lie, cheat and steal to survive. Who knew?” he laughed as if this was some kind of humorous revelation to him. He then grabbed up the pile of blueprints again, shoving them in Vaggie’s face.

“Knowing this, we can work on real change for the lives of Sinners! Rehab centers, therapist offices, better clinics and access to food and utilities!” Lucifer flicked through the different blueprints and requisition forms as he listed off each thing. “I can work with Belphegor. She runs the best hospitals and stuff. Satan also, food and farms and all that. Maybe teaching Sinners to farm might be something? Get some of them a new hobby… Point is, once I get all of this stuff in place, Charlie and I can really tackle the root of the problems for sinners and help them improve themselves and work towards redemption!” Lucifer finished, tossing the papers into the air in dramatic fashion. 

Vaggie blinked several times, still a little shocked and surprised by Lucifer’s energy, but she felt a warm smile creep onto her face.

“This is… really cool sir. Probably an understatement, but it is. You’ve put a lot of thought into this, and Charlie’s going to be just as excited as you are. It… really means a lot to her that you’re supporting her dream.” Vaggie said, smiling at Lucifer.

“Yeah…” Lucifer toned down, eyes drifting to an (utterly adorable) baby picture of Charlie framed on the wall. “She… she’s a really great kid. Just wish I had seen how great a lot sooner.”

Vaggie hesitated for a moment, but reached a hand out and placed it on his shoulder. She’d known about the issues between him and Charlie. How they had drifted apart for so long after Lilith disappeared. It was clear that Lucifer blamed himself for that divide and was working double time to try to fix that bridge.

“But yeah, glad to have the seal of approval, Maggie-”

“It's Vaggie.”

“Glad to have the seal of approval, Vaggie. I’ll pitch it to Charlie later, miiight clean it up a little. That all being said, you said you needed to talk to me about something?” Lucifer wiped at his eyes quickly and shifted tone just as fast. He looked up and down at Vaggie with a calculating eye, then his eyes widened as if in shock “you, it can’t be… are you proposing to my Charlie!?” he yelled, eyes manic as he grabbed Vaggie shirt and pulled her within an inch of his face and suddenly fully demonic eyes.

“WHAT?! Nonono no! Well, I mean- maybe? Someday? I just- I don’t-” Vaggie fumbled, face going hot and pink at the very concept. “I-i-i certainly love her and all, have for years. Since I first saw her honestly… b-b-but, I mean, marriage? I, uh, don’t know if now’s the best t-time for that kinda… I mean, she’s busy with the hotel, and Heaven and all. I mean, we haven't talked about if it's just us or- what am I talking about? God, fuck. We-err, have a lot to talk about. Charlie and I. About that… yeah, er… not, what I came to uh… discuss with, uhm, you.” Vaggie’s rambling reply petered off like an old car running out of gas. Like said dead car, She swore she could feel her head smoking.

Lucifer let Vaggie go, eyes returning to normal. 

“Drat, and here I thought I’d finally get to bust out the wedding planner.” looking oddly disappointed, Lucifer made a small gesture with his hand and a comfy looking chair slid across the room for him to park his butt in. “Well, If it's not that, what else could be so important?”

“Uh…” Vaggie leaned back in her chair, trying to reassemble her brain. She really needed to prepare better next time she talked with Lucife- Wait, when did she sit down? Vaggie blinked, looking around. She was sitting in an identical chair to Lucifer with a drink of some amber liquid in her hand. Cider by the smell of it… The fuck? Devil sorcery. “Right. So, Lucifer, sir. I know this might be a sore subject for you and all, given your history. Not that I am pretending to know your history sir, I assume the tales they tell in Heaven are probably exaggerated-”

Vaggie looked at Lucifer to gauge his reaction. He looked at her blankly, blinking one eye and then the other. Shit, she was losing him! Skip to the point!

“I was hoping that you could help me…. Figure out some of this Fallen Angel stuff I'm going through?” She asked bluntly.

“Oh, I mean, you're not a Fallen Angel, but if you have questions about it, sure.” Lucifer said with a shrug, sipping at his drink.

Vaggie blinked. She wasn't a Fallen Angel? Just to confirm, she sat forward, giving herself enough space to manifest her new gray feathered wings. She pointed to them, then to her lack of halo and looked at Lucifer with a raised eyebrow. He just waved dismissively.

“Fancy new wings does not a Fallen Angel make. Angels can recover from something so simple as getting their wings ripped off, just takes the right mindset. Honestly, it's a nice change, being able to appear and disappear those wings at will.”

“Uh huh…” Vaggie said. In truth, he had something of a point. Sure, losing her wings had been horrific and painful and traumatic and taken weeks of recovery just to function, but not having wings had some perks. Most furniture in Hell was not designed with wings in mind. Less chances to get her feathers dirty or messed up. However, there were more pressing matters to think about. “Okay, if being thrown out of Heaven doesn't make you a Fallen Angel, then what does?”

“You don't become a Fallen Angel until you embrace and draw power from a Sin enough to change you on a fundamental level.” He explained casually.

“Oh. Well, then I think I might have, I dunno, started that process? I've been struggling with Envy recently, so I guess I'm feeling the influence. Whether that's a good or bad thing?” Vaggie wasn't entirely sure. Sin was a bad thing, but she was on team Hell now, so Sin good? They still needed to discourage it in the Sinners, but Vaggie wasn't exactly trying to get back into Heaven. 

“Vaggie, I think you have a fundamental misunderstanding of how Sin works. No big surprise, Sera is too afraid to educate you Angels on this stuff.” Giving a dramatic sigh, Lucifer put his glass down on a side table that hadn't been there before. Steepling his fingers, the Devil chewed on his words for a few seconds before he continued. “Sin is hard to explain. Very wibbly wobbly, both figurative and literal. The Seven Deadly Sins are both magical manifestations of Hell's power and the influence of Evil on the mortal realm, but also Sins are just like any other emotion or personality trait. They are magical, but not a sentient force, does that make sense?”

“... No, not even a little. I mean, you are a Sin, so how is Sin not… sentient?”

“I am the Sin of Pride because I took on a mantle and formed a connection with the Ring of Pride. I am not Pride itself, just connected to it. I mean think about it, do you feel more prideful just being near me?” He asked, and Vaggie shook her head. If anything, being near Lucifer tended to be rather humbling, given his casual displays of power. “Same for the other Sins. Despite what he might claim, Asmodeus doesn't have some ambient aura of lust around him. We don't directly influence people to sin, we can tempt them but we can't get in their heads. If you've got a tiny voice in your head, whispering all these envious thoughts, that's just you. Not Leviathan, not Envy itself.”

Vaggie digested this, tapping her foot. That was good and bad news. Good that she wasn't suffering from some external influence. Bad that she had no one to blame all the envy and jealousy on but herself. That meant she'd have to devote some time to personal reflection, or worse, have a conversation with someone about her insecurities. The horror.

“I guess, but it still doesn't make sense. If Sin isn't some magical force, then how do you draw power from it?”

“Well, as I said, it is magical, it just doesn't reach out and grab you. It's kinda… how to put this. Uh-” Lucifer trailed off, making a variety of gestures and thinking noises as he struggled to come up with some analogy. “Hell and Evil entered the mortal realm when I introduced Free Will because Sin is a function of Free Will. It's not a compulsion, it's a choice but the more you make that choice, the more… no that's too vague. Uhhhhh, a Lake!” Lucifer snapped his fingers, apparently pleased with himself. Vaggie's head tilt indicated her confusion so he continued. “Sin is like a lake. You stand on the shore and all, and it's tempting to get in the water but it's also your choice to do so.”

Lucifer waved his hand, an image of Vaggie standing on a Lakeshore shimmering into view, changing various aspects as he continued talking.

“There can be outside factors to convince you to go to the lake. Maybe it's hot and the water seems tempting to cool down. Or your friends are swimming and you feel jealous of them having fun. Still, it's your choice, the Lake isn't going to come to you. Sure, there are some technicalities as I've learned. Mental illness, hormonal imbalance, addiction, etc might have it so someone starts with their feet in the water or the stronger temptation to go deeper, but they aren't unable to be helped out with proper support.” As Lucifer spoke, the image shifted to Vaggie walking into the water. “Mortals step in the lake, but can step out. Either way they get wet. The wetter you are, harder it is to get dry. And something something, the metaphor is breaking down but the point is Mortal spends too much time in the water and they end up in Hell. I assume. There’s no manual of how the Heaven-Hell sorting system actually works because God was lazy and never wrote instructions back then.” That side tangent felt like a very personal rant. Vaggie still found it extremely weird the way that Lucifer would occasionally casually drop some personal anecdote or comments about God and the Archangels, who were mythical figures even to Vaggie’s perspective. Lucifer took a grumbling drink of his cider, banishing complaints of God’s mismanagement as he continued. 

“For your case though, Angels have a different reaction to Sin than mortals. The deeper we go in the water, the more we bond with Sin and the more power we can draw from it. Which sounds good, but it's not without problems.”

“Problems such as?”

“Once we angels step in, we can’t exactly step back out. The connection is a lot stronger. So, it's up to you whether you learn to swim and control the sin, make it work for you and not let it rule your mind… or if you drown in it”

Vaggie gulped at the image of her sinking beneath the dark water as it faded away. “... What happens if you drown?”

“Bad things, Vaggie. Very, very bad things.'' Lucifer said, his expression deathly serious. Vaggie felt a shiver of fear at the implication. Lucifer, however, immediately perked up and regained his usual mood. “Buuuut I doubt it'll be a problem. You're a pretty smart kid, you'll figure it out. Just find the good part of the sin and make it work for ya, easy as that.”

“Easy as that.” Vaggie echoed but she wasn't really sure what that meant. The good part of sin? Didn't make sense really. “Any…. Advice on how to do that?”

“Nooope. Envy isn't my department. Plus, this is like a kinda personal spiritual journey or whatever mumbo jumbo.”

“Riiiiight. I'll have to think on this then. Thanks for answering my questions I guess?” Vaggie said, shaking her head. She should have known that it wouldn't be that easy to deal with her feelings about Charlie's previous relationship or however deep that Envy rabbit hole went. Maybe she should sign up for therapy once Lucifer is done with his building projects?

Lucifer stood from his chair, taking Vaggie by the shoulder. Suddenly she realized she was at the door to the room, looking back out on the hallway. A wave of vertigo crashed over her as she tried to understand how she went from sitting in the center of the room to standing in the doorway. Fucking devil sorcery.

“Anytime Vaggie, you’re practically part of the family, so anything you need? I’m here for ya!” Lucifer gave her a firm pat on the shoulder.

“... Thanks sir, that means a lot.” Vaggie smiled at him.

“Speaking of which, if you need any help picking out a ring or-”

“Annnnd I’ve got to go. Really good talking with you, sir.” Vaggie began marching off at double time, eager put to the devil behind her.

“I want grandkids, Vaggie! The more the better!”

“WE’RE BOTH GIRLS!” she was not having this conversation, triple time down the hallway.

“THERE’S MAGIC FOR THAT!!!”

Chapter Text

Lute resisted the urge to pace, it would look unprofessional. It felt very strange to stand on the floor of Heaven's grand courtroom. During her last visit to this place, she had sat in the prosecutor’s box alongside Adam… Now she was on the ground floor, in the place where Hell’s Princess had stood while defending her stupid hotel. Lute tried not to think of the implications of standing in her place. No, she was here for a very different reason.

Her report to Sera had incurred mixed results. The High Seraphim was righteously incensed to learn of Adam's tragic demise but aside from that seemed to take the rest of Lute's report about the defeat with a strange sort of calm. There had been something of an expectation to rally the Archangels and throw open Heaven's ancient armory to bring the righteous wrath of God down on those infernal creatures buuuut instead Sera has simply given the order for Lute to return to the barracks and keep an eye on the Exorcists, mourn the dead, that kind of thing. Rather an anticlimax to the day. Lute felt that holding a new trial to analyze the crimes of the Sinners and the fate of the Extermination was unnecessary, but Sera's love of paperwork and official processes was well known. 

This was probably just a stunt to draw public support. Yes, that made sense. The residents of Heaven had been rather talkative in regards to the Exterminations being made public knowledge. The reactions were varied to say the least. The winners had an odd relationship to their sinful counterparts. A fair number of them had in some way been victims of those that went to Hell, others had family in Hell, some were glad certain people went to hell, others sad for certain people, most were simply too long separated from anyone they knew in life to care. Overall, Winners had viewed the knowledge that sinners existed as either a long deserved punishment or an unfortunate necessity, either way it was something they generally put out of their mind… but the idea of eternal destruction of the damned seemed to get a lot of debate on what was right or wrong, questions of who had been killed and that sort of thing.

Lute couldn't understand it even a little. Mortals went to Hell because they deserved it. That was the long and short of the discussion by her understanding. Who cares about the why or who, they were judged and found wanting so all they deserved was death. Sinners weren't worth the pity of the divine and they couldn't change despite whatever that pretty blonde princess preached. That was the truth she had been told since her own creation. Despite her rather black and white opinion on the matter, Lute was merely a soldier. She could afford the simplicity of the truth. Sera and the divine court had the unfortunate duty of dealing with public opinion. If they needed this little sham trial to shine yet more light on the necessity of Extermination, then fine, Lute could play ball.

Just had to wait for the trial to actually start. Wait patiently. Very patiently.

“Lieutenant? You doing okay, ma'am?” asked a voice behind Lute. Lute threw a glare over her shoulder at Glory, one of the two Exorcist captains who had come with her. Glory and Kitty both looked at Lute with concern in their eyes, expressions easy to see without their helmets.

“I'm fine, what makes you think otherwise.” Lute said in a clipped tone.

“Your feathers are ruffled, not a very calm and collected look.” Kitty pointed out with her trademark snark.

“Annnd you're doing the twitch, only do that when you're two ticks from blowing your wig.” Glory observed, sounding genuinely concerned. Whatever soul she had been modeled after must have a penchant for dated slang, as it was a habit that the young Exorcist had yet to kick.

Speaking of bad habits, Lute cursed as she gripped her right hand into a fist to control her twitching fingers. Whenever she was agitated or nervous, her middle finger would twitch against her thumb, as one might when they are trying to snap. A frustratingly obvious tell. Despite her age and efforts of self control, she'd never managed to rid herself of that particular nervous tick. She almost wished her right arm was the one that got ripped off, taking the infernal tick with it. She shouldn't be showing this kind of weakness in front of her captains. Taking a centering breath, and a small flap of her wings to settle her feathers, she spoke. 

“I'm fine, simply caught up thinking about how unnecessary and wasteful this trial is. Good time being wasted that could be spent planning an assault.” Lute said.

“You're really excited to go back…” Kitty griped, but Glory elbowed her.

“Can it, Kit.” Glory hissed, then sighed. “I just hope this shakes out better than the last trial. Folks weren't jazzed about the Extermination news. Been getting the stink eye from Winners ever since.”

“Mortals don't like what they don't understand. After this trial, they'll see exactly why Extermination is a necessity and we can move forward with settling this rebellion before it festers.”

“Or it all goes to shit and Exterminations get canceled for real this time. Hey, what do you guys think happens if we get fired? Might have to find some hobbies like gardening or some shit.” Kitty giggled, but her humor withered under Lute's glare. “S-sorry, Lieutenant…”

“Time and place, Kit. If Lute says it'll work out, then it's good as done, I'm sure.” Glory said with a shake of her head. She then turned to look at Lute with concern. “Speaking of good, how's the arm?”

“It's fine. Serviceable.” Lute answered a little too quickly. Her left arm had been replaced with a full metal prosthetic. Built in armor plating, blessed steel claws, the works. The item had been made in record time after they figured out that a new arm couldn't simply be regenerated and she hadn't exactly had the time or opportunity to run back to hell and dig her old arm out of the rubble. Critical injuries were something of new territory for the Exorcists, as they'd never taken serious injury outside of training accidents. It was frustrating to have to rely on a mortal invention, a prosthetic arm even enhanced with Heavenly enchantments wasn't the same as flesh and blood. It wasn't quite as articulate as her actual hand, there was a slight delay between thought and action, and it was so heavy that it made her shoulder ache after just a few hours of wearing it… but it was fine. She was fine. She would just get used to it and everything would go back to normal. “Now, cut the chatter, It's unprofessional.”

Lute resumed parade rest, looking up at the seats of the council as angels of various descriptions filtered into the high seats of the council. The high Seraphim has yet to arrive. That wasn’t unusual, Sera tended to move at her own pace and everything was expected to bend around her. Privilege of authority. Lute silently prayed that Emily, the younger more naive sister, would not be present today. That one had been a little too interested in Charlie's proposals. The Princess must have somehow worked her devilish charms and temptations on the young Seraphim. Upsetting to know not even the highest angels were safe from temptation. Damn seductive devils, preying on the naivety of inexperienced angels.

After what seemed like hours but was likely only a few minutes, Sera finally entered the main chamber, pushing open the doors with her usual grace. Members of the court stood from their booths in respect, Lute and her captains shifting to attention and giving sharp salutes. Her military bearing helped hide the pang of annoyance Lute felt at seeing Emily float along in behind Sera. Great.

Sera made no acknowledgement of anyone, keeping her face neutral and eyes forward as she spread her wings. She and Emily quickly flew up into the high seat and took their positions. Sera’s face was a cool mask of neutrality as always. Emily was a little easier to read. Her look of disdain was clear. The smaller Seraphim was probably still on the Princess' side, but that would change once Lute got the opportunity to show the court how vile and violent the sinners were.

“Attention all.” Sera began, holding out her hands and casting her eyes over the court. “We gather here today to discuss the events of the last Extermination and determine the necessary next steps. As per this court’s previous trial, it was publicly revealed the nature of the Exterminations that the Exorcists act out against Hell, something I previously attempted to hide from the court. This was a mistake on my part, in the interest of the good of both Heaven and Hell, I would like to make all matters regarding this topic public information. Any further decisions shall be the responsibility of this court to decide, not I alone. Lieutenant Lute, as the acting authority of the Exorcist Army in Adam's absence, you will begin by giving the court a run down of what exactly happened on your recent incursion into Hell. You have the floor.”

“Thank you high Seraphim.” Lute gave a sharp turn, making her way across the floor to the large viewing orb. She reached for it, ready to begin a projection for the court so she could make her statement. “For the… uninitiated, I will include an explanation of the Exterminations and why they are necessary-”

“Remember Lieutenant, while you are in this courtroom, you are under oath to speak nothing but the truth.” Sera cut in, glaring down at Lute from on high. 

“… Of course, ma’am.” Lute blinked, what was that for? Sera seemed upset, it wasn't like her to interrupt people. Wasn't the high Seraphim supposed to be on her side? Lute placed her hand on the orb and a series of images began to appear. Scenes of Hell throughout various Exterminations with Exorcists doing their sacred duty. Lute would  admit she was slightly cherry picking the images on display, making sure to show the deaths of particularly monstrous or violent looking Sinners. Better optics for those unused to violence. She heard a few gasps from the crowd but elected to ignore them. Most of these angels had likely never seen combat, so it was maybe a little shocking to see, but they’d come around once she explained.

“Exterminations are conducted yearly to keep the population of Sinners in Hell at a reasonable level and prevent the population from ever rising to become a threat to Heaven. It is the only way to effectively combat the ever rising population in Hell, with each Exorcist being able to take out vast swaths of Sinners. I personally handled two hundred seventy four on the last official extermination.” Lute paused, hearing yet more gasps from the court. They were likely impressed with her effectiveness. Adam had certainly been.

“The Exorcists have acted in Heaven’s defense since our creation, with extreme loyalty and-”

“Ah, pardon me, dear Exorcist. We are in possession of a query.” Interjected an angel from the court, a slim figure in a pressed white suit. They possessed no traditional head, but rather a set of three slowly rotating, interlocked rings covered in eyes. One of the Ophanim.

“... I wasn't aware I was answering questions…” Lute flicked her gaze up to Sera, who gave a stern nod. Apparently, Lute was indeed. “But very well, what is your query?”

“You have stated that your Exorcists act with loyalty, but we find this to be inconsistent with prior data. We were present for the previous trial against Miss Morningstar, during which you and the First Man made quite the spectacle by pointing out that Miss Morningstar’s companion was a rogue angel, formerly in your employ.” The Ophanim gave his statement in a robotic fashion. Ophanim could be weird that way, overly logical and analytical, yet insatiably curious. The crowd murmured along with the question. Lute just sighed. Of course, someone would bring this up. She could see Glory and Kitty shift nervously out of the corner of her eye.

“Yes, Vaggie was a former Exorcist and the one black mark on our record. Personally, I assumed that she must have died after five years in hell, but it seems that Lucifer's spawn has taken a liking to her.” Shaking her head, Lute had to work to repress her mixed feelings at the topic of Vaggie. The mere thought of their last battle sent a pang of phantom pain through her missing arm.

“Then she was cast down, not merely a rogue Angel?” The Ophanim asked, sounding curious. Other angels leaned in. Lute should have anticipated that. Fallen Angels must seem like mythical figures to them. There had been none, if any since Lucifer's fall and the war. Lute had heard a rumor about a group of bumbling Cherubs that got kicked out of Heaven for fucking up on earth, but that was quite different from an Angel being banished to Hell. Vaggie had not changed so much to be a fully Fallen Angel, though she might as well be for how she fought in Hell's defense. “We should like to know the nature of this individual’s fall.”

“I am not sure if that is relevant to the case,” Lute glanced up at Sera, who remained expressionless. No getting out of this. She tapped the orb again, displaying Vaggie's crime for all to see. It still sent a surge of anger and disappointment through Lute. “Vaggie was formerly one of our top Exorcists, second to myself in the quality of her creation and abilities. She was an effective warrior and acted as my own tactical adviser, which is why it is a shame she chose to spare one of the wretched. Adam doesn't tolerate insubordination, so I handled the problem myself and cast her down.”

Lute explained this dispassionately, robotically. It had been a great disappointment to lose someone she had once called a friend, but orders were orders. There would be no sympathy for the damned, only destruction. The crowd gasped in shock and horror when they saw her enact Heaven’s justice, but she didn't look back. That moment was one that lingered in the back of her mind, likely the only time she had nearly allowed personal sentiment to stop her from following orders. This kind of thing was her duty, why she was created. To do what they couldn't. They could not allow insubordination. Questioning Heaven led to the fall of Lucifer. Questioning orders would lead down the same road, after that moment she had resolved to never question again, and she had been better for it.

The Ophanim in particular… well their expressions were normally a challenge to read, but the look of shock, then concern was rather clear in their many eyes. The angel steepled their fingers for a moment, gathering their thoughts.

“You cast down one of your own… for showing mercy? Is mercy not a virtue that we of the Heavens are supposed to embody?” The Ophanim asked.

“... For the living, yes, obviously. Why give mercy to the damned? They exist to suffer, nothing else.” Lute felt… confused? Was this not obvious to them? Why were they all looking at her like that? Even Sera’s face had gone pale. Bizarre. They made her to be an agent of Heaven’s fury, to follow orders and slay the damned, why did they seem so confused when she did exactly that?

“We possess no further questions.” the Ophanim stated, shrinking back slightly and trying to look at anything other than Lute. A challenge given its omnidirectional vision.

“ Fucking finally. ” Lute whispered under her breath. You can always count on Ophanim for wasting time. Finally she could move into the meat of her presentation. She switched the view to show the decapitated Exorcist. “During the last Extermination, it seems that the Sinners managed to determine that Angelic steel weapons can be used to bypass the normal invulnerability we Exorcists possess. Obviously, we could not let this incident slide, so Adam authorized an additional Extermination to happen in six months, intended to break any spirit of rebellion and nip this issue in the bud.”

The crowd murmured and mumbled along, but she could see that the show of Sinners rebelling against the mandate of Heaven was helping to get them on her side. She felt confident about this… though Sera was giving her a weird look again. Probably waiting for her to get to the point.

“This did have the slight downside of prompting Princess Morningstar to come to Heaven and desperately pitch her foolish redemption plan. Well, we all know how that disaster of a trial went. In response to this, upon the new Extermination day, Adam ordered a targeted assault on Miss Morningstar and her Hotel. Unfortunately, it went… poorly. I warn the crowd, these next few images are particularly graphic.” Lute explained, casting images and brief scenes of the battle onto the screen. She made sure to emphasize scenes of Exorcists being attacked and overwhelmed by Sinners, particularly one shot of a poor angel being swarmed by a flock of cannibal Sinners and torn apart. Poor Muffin, may she rest in peace. She heard someone in the crowd retch, along with other sounds of horror and disgust. They needed to see this. They had no experience with how wretched and vile these Sinners were, they needed to understand why Extermination should be moved up to Extinction.

“The Princess managed to gather a force of Sinners armed with Angelic weapons and the support of at least three Overlord class Sinners. They managed to get the drop on us, using a shield of dark sorcery to cut off part of the force. They might have taken the day if not for Adam's bravery. He alone was able to turn the battle in our favor, taking down several of the top fighters.” Lute took a deep breath, it made her heart flutter to relieve Adam's greatness on the battlefield, but the emotion was dampened knowing how this was going to end. She showed Adam breaking the dark shield, sending that cowardly Radio Demon running, and destroying the war machine. On the last bit, she heard a small chuckle, which seemed out of place. It had come from the younger Seraphim, odd seeing as she seemed to have been a Sinner sympathizer… Lute supposed she was coming around, the quick demise of the war machine was humorous, but the Seraphim was smirking like she knew something Lute didn't.

“At which point, Princess Morningstar took the field of battle, managing to wound Adam. I was unfortunately engaged in combat with the traitor, Vaggie, and unable to assist due to my own serious injury.” she flexed the fingers of her new prosthetic for the sake of the crowd. They didn’t need to know that she technically did that to herself. The fight had been an extremely embarrassing loss, and the pain of losing an arm or had almost been as bad as the misery of being granted mercy by a traitor. “But I am confident that Adam would have killed the hellborn princess, if not for the intervention of Lucifer Morningstar, who broke his pact of non-intervention with the Exterminations.”

A wave of fear spread through the crowd at showing the Devil himself on the screen. For a man so short, even Lute had to admit the sight of him in his full demonic incarnation sent a shiver of fear down her spine. Like looking into the eyes of a predator many steps above you on the food chain. 

“After Adam's defeat at his hands and eventual demise,” Lute opted to give the First Man some dignity and not explain that he met his end at the hands of not Lucifer, but a two foot tall mentally unstable cockroach. Better to let the crowd assume it was Lucifer. Not a lie, just a minor omission. “I was forced to take command and call for retreat. Now that we have had time to lick our wounds, my Exorcists and I are ready to return to Hell, avenge Adam and destroy any thought or hope of Rebellion. With the aid of the rest of Heaven, they will have no chance in Hell of standing against us!”

Lute smiled, resisting the urge to chuckle at her little joke. It was plain to see that her presentation had worked. A wave of nervous and fearful energy spread through the crowd, mutterings about the violence and the potential threats to the order of Heaven spread like wildfire. They saw the threat posed by Hell, and knew that Adam's death could not go unanswered. The last trial they had been sympathetic to the plight of Sinners only because they were too naive to fully understand the danger at their doorstep. Now they would rally to the cause of Extermination and soon they would be able to put this whole mess behind them.

“Any questions?” Lute turned fully to face the crowd, feeling more than a little smug. Today was going to be a huge success. Several angels stepped forward as if to speak, but all went silent at a voice from above, deceptively calm yet chillingly intense.

“Yes, several. ” spoke the High Seraphim, her expression one of barely contained fury. A crack echoed the room when she gripped the marble railing of her balcony. Lute blinked. She didn’t think she had ever seen the Seraphim look genuinely angry. The presentation must have been more effective than Lute thought.

“When I first heard about this situation, I admit I was rather concerned as to how the Sinners had managed to procure enough angelic weapons to arm and armor a small offensive force,” Sera began, spreading her wings and floating down through the chamber to Lute's level. “Initially I suspected that they might have gotten their hands on relics of the ancient war, stashed away by Lucifer and the other Fallen. I even considered the possibility they were armed with old weapons from our own armory, somehow smuggled from Heaven into the depths of Hell by traitors in our midst.”

Sera landed gracefully on the ground, extending a hand. Within it manifested a massive lance which she held up for the crowd to inspect. Lute rarely saw relic weapons from the old war. They carried the same divine glow about them, but their designs were deceptively plain. Modern exorcist weapons often had more intricate designs with sweeping curves and glowing patterns. Relic weapons lacked embellishment, speaking more of an almost brutal efficiency in their designs. Their dull appearance hid the fact that they had been designed for a far greater conflict than mere Exterminations. Even the most simple relic dagger was worth a hundred of the finest Exorcist blades.

“So, imagine my surprise, when I see masses of Sinners wielding exorcist patten weaponry. So, do tell me, Lieutenant, how exactly did an army's worth of your soldier’s weapons wind up in Hell ?” Sera loomed over her, still not dismissing the massive lance held at her side. The weapon seemed to thrum with Sera’s ambient anger. Lute felt something akin to fear. Behind her she heard the slight shuffle of a rather frightened Glory and Kitty as they both took a step back from the Seraphim. Cowards.

“... Ah… well,” Sweat beaded down the back of Lute's neck. Upon review, she could perhaps see why the Seraphim was upset. “You see, ah, high Seraph, we… might have… left some weapons behind… on prior Exterminations.”

“ Elaborate.”

“Uhm… well. Even Angelic weapons can't keep their edge permanently, at least not modern Exorcist pattern weapons. Cutting through clothing, armor, bone and other material wears the edge of any blade. A-after maybe a couple dozen sinners, most weapons are more or less worn down to bludgeoning tools.” Lute explained, taking a step back from the upset Seraphim. Demons she could face, a furious angel was a different story. “A-and… carrying around dull weapons would just waste time and energy. Adam suggested that we just…uh… drop… d-damaged weapons. He said that Sinners would just, you know, use them against each other? Which they do! Just adds to more chaos and dead sinners. Win win!... Or, so we thought, we had no idea they could be used… against us.”

A deathly silence took over the chamber. Lute had never seen Sera look at anyone or anything the way the Seraphim was glaring at her. Dozens of eyes appeared across her form and glared down at the Exorcist who felt very, very small.

 “You mean to tell me… The Exorcists have been casually dropping Holy Weapons into Hell… for Centuries?” Sera’s grip on her lance tightened until her knuckles popped. The weapon’s humming turned to angry buzzing as divine energy crackled along its length. Lute withered under Sera’s gaze, unable to form any response other than a weak nod. Even she had to admit that this was a bit of a bad look for the Exorcists, but surely it wasn’t the end of the world. They had a few weapons, so what? They couldn’t have known the consequences. It wasn’t something Sera would kill her over. Right? Finally the silence broke when Sera gave a deep sigh, flicking her wrist to dismiss the lance. Sera made a visible effort to calm down, many eyes closing and smoothing her hair back before she spoke again. “I suppose I can believe that this was an honest mistake, though one born out of utter incompetence by your leader. I should have known better than to give Adam supreme authority in regard to the Exterminations. This only proves that the methodology and leadership of the Exorcists has gone far too long without proper checks and balances. There will be drastic changes made, new authority given to trustworthy angels to keep you and your sisters in check.”

Lute blinked. Ran the words through her mind again to make sure she’d heard correctly, then blinked again.

“New… leadership?” Lute said the words softly, anger starting to override her shock. “You’re taking away my position!?” She knew she shouldn’t yell at the Seraphim, but she couldn’t help it. Centuries of standing by Adam, leading his angels, being forced to watch him die… and now she wasn’t going to be able to lead them to get vengeance? To have to bow to some… some inexperienced stooge given authority just because the Seraphim liked them? No. No! Not on her fucking watch! Lute stepped forward, opening her mouth to say more but Sera just turned that glare on her again, the brief calm she had evaporating back to a pure, raw fury that Lute had never seen nor heard of from the Seraphim.

“Yes, and you will be lucky if that is all I do. When I authorized the Exterminations, it was purely as a last resort method to trim down Hell’s growing population. Not only have I come to doubt the necessity of these Exterminations, but I am understanding from this trial that my decision has clearly caused more harm than good. Because of these Exterminations, the Sinners have all but been handed a treasure trove of angelic weaponry and your angels gathered the ire of Lucifer himself!” Sera yelled back. 

“B-but… Lucifer attacked us! He broke the laws of the Extermination! Shouldn’t we be more concerned about him?” Lute tried to get the conversation back on track, but Sera merely reached out and flicked her fingers across the surface of the viewing orb. The scene reversed rapidly, showing a view of Charlie and Vaggie back to back, defending against a wave of Exorcists. It focused in as an Exorcist flew in, striking her sword against the shield being held up by the hellborn princess.

“Lucifer… didn’t break the compact,” Sera said through gritted teeth. She was all but shaking with rage. “When we negotiated the Extermination, Lucifer signed in one rule . One rule, agreed upon by all parties including Adam, that no Hellborn are to be made targets of the Exterminations, only the Sinners. Not only is Charlotte Morningstar one of the Hellborn, she is The Daughter of The Morning Star… and you attacked her first. Lucifer had every right to intervene the moment one of you so much as scratched her, and Adam nearly killed her! You are all lucky that Lucifer didn’t exterminate YOU!” Sera reached down and grabbed Lute by the shirt, eaglelike talons shredding into the fabric as she lifted the smaller angel to eye level with one hand. “Because of that particular decision, I will likely have to meet with Lucifer in person to beg forgiveness and try to stop another war from breaking out! What exactly made you and that idiot Adam think it was okay to attack the Hotel?”

“W-we just-” Lute couldn’t believe what was happening. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Beg forgiveness? From Lucifer? They represented Heaven, why should they have to bow to his will? They… they might’ve made a mistake with the weapons, but everyone could see how dangerous the Sinners were. Why did it feel like Lute was on trial? She didn’t understand anything. “The… the trial, with the Princess. S-she- It's all her fault! She gathered an army just to fight us… She was starting an uprising, throwing Heaven into chaos with all her talk about redeeming that stupid crackwhore! Adam said we needed to destroy her and that stupid hotel!”

“... While Miss Morningstar’s trial did cause a stir, particularly in regard to the public knowledge of Exterminations. We both know she did nothing actually harmful, other than make Adam look like a fool… and he nearly sent you and your sisters directly to your deaths just to mend his fragile ego.” Sera suddenly looked less angry, almost… Was that pity? Pity. Lute twitched. Would Adam really risk them all over- No. Nonono. she can’t- he wouldn’t.

“No, that can’t have been the only reason! Adam was… Adam was just trying to get ahead of that stupid princess! He knew how dangerous she was! Cracking the foundation of Heaven, spouting that stupid redemption bullshit just to confuse us! The princess is dangerous! She-” Lute tried to explain, to rationalize, to… anything! But she was cut off by another voice from on high.

“Charlie’s ideas aren’t dangerous if she’s right!” Emily leaned against the balcony above, glaring down at Lute with the angriest expression she’d even seen on the normally cheery Seraph. “And I can prove it! Sera, I want to call in my witness!”

A… a witness? The fuck did they need a witness for? None of the other Exorcists would dare to speak out against their own sisters, right? Lute looked back to Glory and Kitty, who were themselves rather stunned by the dramatic turn of the trial. When they had the sense to acknowledge Lute, they just shrugged, apparently as confused as Lute was. If not an Exorcist, then who? God… had they called a witness from Hell? Charlie? Vaggie?... God forbid, Lucifer?

Sera heaved a long sigh, her face portraying that she didn’t seem entirely pleased about what was about to happen, yet was resigned to its necessity. She relaxed her grip and claws, placing Lute back onto the ground. Lute stumbled, mentally and physically unsteady, but managed to catch herself after a second. She watched, utterly confused as the High Seraphim took a second to compose herself, fixing her hair and patting out some light wrinkles in her dress.

“The court recognizes your request, you may call your witness” Sera stated, once again the picture of poise and calm as if she hadn’t been close to ripping Lute in half a moment ago. Above, Emily pumped her fists in excitement, looking like she had just won the lottery.

“Angels of the court, I would like to present my witness, Sir Pentious!” Emily announced, gesturing towards one of the entry doors at the base of the courtroom. Sir who? Lute tilted her head, unfamiliar with the name. The doors slid open to reveal…

“Holy shit.” Lute’s brain ceased all higher function as she recognized the figure of the large snake man sliding his way into the courtroom. That’s impossible. She knew who he was. He was one of the Sinners from Charlie’s stupid hotel. She had been forced to witness his utterly disastrous flirting in the trial and seen him giving orders during the battle. That was a Sinner… in Heaven… in pastel colors?

“Ah, yessss. Hello Ladiess and Gentlemen of the…uhm, choirrrr?” The Sinner that should definitely not fucking be here tilted his head, looking to Sera, who gave a small roll of her eyes and mouthed ‘court’. “Ah! Ladiess and Gentlemen of the court! It iss good to meet you all.”

Emily took a second to shoot a smug grin at Lute before she flicked her fingers towards the orb below, which changed to show Sir Pentious as Lute had last seen him. The dark colored weird steampunk sinner snake. The snake took this as a queue to begin addressing the crowd directly.

“Angelss of the court. My name is Sir Pentious. Born in Sstaffordshire, England in the year of our lord 1836, knighted by King Edward in 1866 in honor of my technological advancementss in warfare, died due to… unfortunate mechanical misshap, 1888.” The snake slithered towards the center of the room, pausing only to cast a dark glare at Lute before he went on to address the courtroom. Lute just stared in slack jawed awe, unable to even muster a complaint about having to listen to his life story. “Until extremely recently, I have sspent the last one hundred thirty odd years… as a Ssinner in Hell.”

The crowd was finally starting to catch onto how insane it was to see this fucking snake in the room.

“Upon reflection, I will admit that… in life I wass not a very good man. While I never saw the battlefield myself, the war machiness I dessigned did terrible damage to the livess of otherss. In Hell, I wass not much better. Fighting endless battles over ultimately meaninglessss territory. I tell you this so you will understand that my time in Hell wass rather earned, and I never gave much thought to redemption for one ssuch as mysself” Sir Pentious took off his hat, holding it to his chest, looking ashamed. “Even entering Missss Charlotte’ss Hotel wass under falsse pretensse. As a sspy. well, after I wass caught, The Princessss made the decission to spare my life, when sshe had every right to sslay me for my betrayal of her trusst… Even if I did not believe in redemption, I asspired to better mysself, to be the persson Missss Charlie believed I could be. In her hotel, I found community, friendsship. Ssomething I had lacked even in life.” the snake trailed off, turning again to glare at Lute.

“That iss why, when these Exorcisst ruffianss brought war to her doorsstep, I was willing to sstep up and give everything to protect my friendss. In my grand warsship, ssurrounded by my loyal minions, I challenged the Firsst Man himself to give my companionss any chance at ssurvival! I bore no thoughts of redemption or anything elsse in my heart, fully expecting to die,” He frowned at the display of his war machine getting dusted with ease. “Though… perhapss I expected to perissh with some more dignity.”

“After Sir Pentious’ sacrifice for his friends, he appeared directly into mine and Sera’s sitting room! A Sinner redeemed! Proof that Charlie was right all along!” Emily added in, crossing her arms and nodding. The court began to chatter, talking back and forth in an excited tone. It all just sounded like white noise to Lute.

This was impossible. It was stupid. It couldn’t be real. A Sinner couldn’t be redeemed. Hell was forever. That was how it was supposed to work. Mortals blow their shot at life, go to hell, then get killed by Exorcists. That was the whole cycle of life… that was what Adam told her. B-but there was a Sinner… in Heaven. Sinners can’t get into Heaven, they can’t pass through portals into Heaven, not even if Lucifer or Sera made the portal. It just didn’t work… but there he was. A Sinner that Adam killed personally. Redeemed in Heaven… because Adam killed him. No, there had to be some angle she was missing. The stupid Snake’s story made it sound like the Exorcists were the bad guys. They were angels! They can’t be the bad guys! They can’t be… wrong?

Lute’s head ached and she felt weak in the knees, having to catch herself on the viewing orb to remain standing. She glanced at it, seeing other scenes within. An image of the Princess convincing her father to spare Adam, of Sinners from the Hotel looking on with grief as Sir Pentious was killed, of Exorcists descending with their grinning face masks… Had the masks always looked that menacing? 

Behind her, she heard whispering. Glory and Kitty were talking to each other. Lute couldn’t tell what they were saying over the growing tide of her thoughts but she could read their expressions. Doubt, concern, confusion. N-no. they were two of her best captains, they can’t turn to doubt. She can’t just lose them like she lost Vaggie. There had to be something to make them see the truth. Make them all see the truth. Make it all make sense again. If only Adam were here, he’d know what to do, what to say. He’d give the right orders, he always gave the right orders… but he wasn’t here, he died… but the Sinner he killed had lived. How was that fair? How was that right? It couldn’t be right.

“... But… Adam..." Lute barely felt coherent, lifting her head to look up at Sera. There was that look again. Pity. It struck a chord in the depths of Lute's soul, reigniting some of the fire there. How dare she pity lute, like she was some lost dog without an owner? The anger was more familiar than the confusion. Things made sense when she was angry. She didn't have to think about why everything seemed to be falling apart when she was angry.

“As I said, Adam violated the terms of the agreement by forcing you and the Exorcists to attack the Hotel. He risked apocalyptic war to soothe his own ego… while the loss of the First Man is regrettable. Lucifer was technically in the right.” Sera explained in a voice that sounded hollow, Lute knew she didn't care about Adam. The woman had never liked Adam. Lute wanted to rage and scream. With great force, she buried the confusion and questions under a heavy blanket of rage.

Lute’s eyes narrowed as she focused on the snake in the room. He was at the center of this. This was his fault. It had to be. Lute didn’t know how, but he had somehow faked his death, snuck into Heaven and managed to poison even the Seraphim with his lies. People were speaking, but none of it reached Lute’s ears. She could only see the Snake and the wrongness he represented in Lute’s world. He was a stain, an imperfection, a cancer… and Lute would cut him out. Once he was gone, they’d snap out of this insane delusion, they’d understand once he was dead. It didn’t matter what he looked like, he was still a sinner. Sinners only existed to die. They would see. They would see.

Lute’s sword cleared its scabbard, golden blade gilting in the light coming off the display orb. Lute’s wings hit the air, launching her like a bullet across the floor towards the deceitful serpent. She was the hand of god, her sword their fury. She only needed one blow to set things right. 

Her blow did not land.

With a shiftness that Lute wasn’t sure was raw speed or straight up teleportation, Sera intercepted Lute’s path. A crashing backhand was all it took to propel Lute across the courtroom and into the opposite wall. She impacted hard enough to split the marble wall, the shock of the blow stunning her and forcing the air out of her lungs. Mind rattled, she slid to the floor. Amidst her blurry vision she caught flashes of gold across the ground between her and the towering Seraphim. Lute held up her sword, staring dumbly at the shattered blade.

“ Lieutenant. Thou shall not raise a hand against those who have been deemed worthy of Heaven. No matter their origin.” Sera’s voice boomed, echoing with thunder and fury that had every figure in the hall cringing away from her presence.

“B-but… Sinner…” she coughed weakly, trying to regain her footing and sense. The Seraphim actually believed in this nonsense enough to attack her? “You… can’t believe this… right? Please.” 

“My sister spoke no lie, this Sinner manifested directly in our presence. It has been thousands of years since I have seen a true miracle, but I still know one when I see it.” Sera had not moved to cross the distance to Lute, but Lute could see the slight twitch of Sera’s hand. A mimic to when Sera had summoned her lance earlier. Sera was primed to kill Lute if necessary. She saw Lute as a potential threat.

“... No… s-stop looking at me like that.” Voice hollow and cracked, Lute’s eyes darted around the room. Everyone was looking at her. That Ophanim was looking at her again, its many eyes wide with fear. Emily had joined them on the bottom floor, glaring at Lute as she stood to protect the Snake. Glory and Kitty looked so confused, unsure of who to side with. The broken blade slipped from her fingers as her hand twitched with nervous energy. Why were they all looking at her as if she was some wild animal? “I-I-i… I did nothing wrong. Th-that’s a sinner. I was made to kill them. I… I have always followed every order. I never did anything wrong, never deviated from my duty no matter how much it hurt. W-why is that suddenly wrong?" The question was meant to be an accusation, but rather fell off her lips as a desperate plea. She needed to know what she had done wrong, why they all looked at her that way. She was what she was made to be. She saw the world as they told her to see it. She understood the truth as they told it to her. Yet now, they looked at her as if she was mad.

Sera looked at Lute with the guarded expression of someone who expected a rabid dog to snap, but finally relaxed her hand. She looked down at Lute, then turned away as if ashamed. She did not answer Lute’s question, but rather turned to Glory and Kitty. “You two, restrain your Lieutenant. Once we conclude you will escort her back to her barracks where she will remain under house arrest. Is that clear?”

The two Exorcists looked at the Seraphim, at each other, at Lute, then back to the Seraphim. A wide range of emotions battled for dominance in their eyes, but in the end, they had the sense not to disobey a direct order from the High Seraphim, especially not after she knocked the sense out of Lute so easily.

“As crystal, ma’am.” Glory answered. The pair drew their blades, flying over to stand on either side of Lute. 

“... Sorry, Lieutenant.” Kitty whispered, but Lute barely registered it. She just dropped to her knees, mind going numb as the energy left her.

Seeing that Lute was suitably pacified, Sera turned to address the court. “I believe that the court has seen enough for today.” As she spoke, the gathered angels murmured their agreement, Lute’s outburst clearly having left an impression on them. “Based on the testimony of Sir Pentious and the very fact of his presence, we must retract the previous ruling, there is evidence that Sinners can be redeemed by means of this Hazbin Hotel.” There were several bits of scattered applause and nodding heads, a hollow gesture of agreement. Lute saw a warm smile pass between Emily and the sinner, but even the cheerful Seraphim wasn't in the mood for overt displays of victory.

“Furthermore, considering this fact and the Lieutenant's own testimony… I believe I may have been in error when I initially allowed the Exterminations. Further Exterminations will be postponed until future notice, potentially pending renegotiation of a contract with Lucifer Morningstar. The Exorcist army shall be placed under probation  until new leadership can be found for them. Hopefully, they can be salvaged with the proper hand to guide them.” 

Lute almost wanted to laugh, but couldn’t muster up the energy for it. House arrest? They were going to imprison her for doing her job? The job they designed her to do? It was absurd, this whole sham trial had been absurd. Postponing the Exterminations? Arresting the Exorcists? Not avenging Adam? The High Seraphim had lost her mind. Heaven had lost its mind… but it ran far deeper than Lute could understand. There had to be a way to fix it, Lute just didn’t know how… yet. For Adam’s sake, she’d find a way to fix it.

 “Angels of the court, there will be much work done to restore balance between the realms. To make up for my part in all of this, I will handle the effort to negotiate peace personally. In a week's time, my sister and I will travel down to the Embassy in Hell to offer reparations and ask forgiveness, with hope, we shall prevent this situation from escalating any further.” Sera informed the court, who gave their agreements and began to depart. Emily fluttered over to hug her sister and chat incessantly at Sir Pentious. Soon enough the three of them were moving off together out of the courtroom.

Meanwhile, Lute was escorted from the courtroom with blades held to her neck.

Chapter Text

Lute was in Hell.

At least, as close to Hell one could find in Heaven.

It had been three days since the trial and Sera had made good on her promises of punishment for the Exorcists. All weapons confiscated, forced to stay on the grounds of their barracks, and being watched 24/7. Lute, especially, was under heavy surveillance and only allowed privacy in her own quarters. All of which Lute might have almost been able to swallow, despite her insistence that it was completely undeserved, if not for the fact that they were being watched over by cherubs. The sickeningly cute pastel children’s toy looking little things were everywhere and they would not leave Lute alone unless she barricaded herself in her room. 

She couldn’t stand the little things. Absolutely incapable of shutting up. Painfully cheerful and stupid. Worst yet, they made… surprisingly effective guards. Not at all powerful, intimidating, or possessed any means of actually keeping her and the Exorcists in line. Rather, cherubs possessed a rather uncanny ability to fuck off and snitch to actually important and powerful angels anytime they even suspected the possibility of trouble.

She’d learned that the hard way after some swift and harsh punishment for drop-kicking a deer with an annoying accent through a table. It’d been worth it though. 

There had been small mercies and accommodations at least.  Heaven wasn't exactly in the practice of giving punishment, the usual go to for infraction of Heaven's laws was typically either exile to the mortal realm or banishment straight to hell. Since it currently seemed that Heaven’s judgment was that Adam was primarily to blame, with Lute and the Exorcists being some kind of ‘victims’; they weren't being harshly punished. Yet. The powers that be seemed to hope that they could be reeducated with better leadership. Utter bullshit.

Also, upon review, casting Lute and the entire Exorcist army back to hell was kind of what Lute wanted and for some godforsaken reason, Sera wanted solutions that didn't involve demon genocide this time around. 

The sheer painful boredom that had been a result of her house arrest had been to some small benefit. It had given Lute a chance to calm down over her outburst. One might claim that she'd very nearly lost her cool in the courtroom. If Lute was to find some way to break Heaven out of its collective delusion, she could not accomplish it while teetering on the edge of mental collapse. She merely needed to shove down her concerns, questions, and emotions and bottle them for indefinite storage. That always worked out. By the time she got a hold of herself, the damage, unfortunately, had already been done. Between her outburst and the appearance of the Snake, doubt had festered in the Exorcists. It was plain to see. The way hushed conversations abruptly stopped whenever Lute came near, the way she'd often catch Exorcists looking at the wooden training weapons in contemplation. There was an uncertain energy throughout the army. Their leader was dead, Lute had faltered, and vicious lies were worming their way into Heaven.

Something would have to be done, Lute just needed an opportunity… which was something the powers that be were determined to deny her.

Lute had very little to do aside from eat, sleep and train. The training helped at first. The battle had highlighted a serious weakness with the Exorcist's fighting style. Over reliance on Angelic invulnerability. It had never been a perfect thing, but they'd always assumed that only attacks wrought by angelic hands could pierce their innate defense. It made sense that Angels could hurt each other, but if sinners and demons could wield Angelic weapons then it changed the game. Already she had started figuring out more defensive fighting techniques and set the Exorcists to practicing them. It would be better if she could get access to shields and armor, but the powers that be weren't currently keen on granting such requests. Unfortunately, there were only so many hours one could fill with training.

Even divine bodies needed rest. She’d hit the training very hard the first few days, leaving her burnt out physically and mentally. The problem with resting is it was giving her mind a chance to wander. If left without something to occupy it, it kept slipping back to the trial. Dangerous thoughts about sinners, redemption, Adam, a princess and her pet angel. She craved distraction, some book or movie or game that could keep her attention, but there wasn’t anything that really kept her mind busy. This was a very strange time for Lute to realize that she didn’t exactly have hobbies. She’d spent her life being two things, a soldier and Adam’s right hand. She never thought she really needed anything else, so she never made any effort towards picking up some kind of pastime. Adam usually had things he wanted to do, gigs to organize and practice for, responsibilities to avoid, women to bed. Lute was always right along with him, keeping him company and helping him out… except for the last one. Save a few rare occasions.

A smile of nostalgia briefly made its way onto her face as she remembered simpler days. It faded almost immediately. She’d spent so much of her life for Adam, now that he was gone… What did she have left? Vengeance? That was currently on indefinite hiatus.

“Maybe I could practice music?” she wondered aloud, staring at the ceiling. That was a thing people used as a hobby. Adam had taught her how to play his guitar. She was good enough at it, she’d played in some of his gigs. It just had never been something she did for herself. It was probably the best option on the table, Adam’s guitar had been placed in his room along with his halo, an impromptu memorial for the man.

Lute tilted her head to look at the door. To get to the guitar she’d need to get out of bed… and strap on her prosthetic arm… and walk across the courtyard…  and swat off a half dozen cherubs. The effort required made the prospect sound increasingly unappealing. Everything sounded unappealing. Letting her head flop back to stare at the ceiling. She felt adrift. There seemed no way forward and nothing to fill the void in her life. Silently, Lute prayed to God for something to alleviate her boredom.

Knock knock knock

“... You know for a fact that's not what I meant.” Lute glared at the ceiling again, expression sour. Bad timing or a divine sense of humor, it was hard to tell sometimes. In truth, it was about lunch time, so some unlucky cherub probably drew the short straw to deliver her food. Hopefully it was real food, not some sugar laden pile of baked goods. She had no idea how cherubs managed to survive on a diet of almost entirely sweets. It explained their rotted little brains at least.

Snorting at her own joke, Lute rolled onto her side so she could better push herself up with her arm. It had only been a week and a half since losing her arm, but she was managing to adjust more or less. Angelic healing did wonders, as normally an injury of this caliber would leave her with weeks of recovery and pain. She was able to skip all that. Practically back to regular health, minus an arm but she was adapting. Figuring out a few little tricks here and there to do things one handed. The prosthetic helped, and at first she'd worn it constantly… but it also just wasn't her arm. She found herself using it less and less when she didn't absolutely need it.

She glanced at the arm, lying on her bedside table, but decided not to bother. Her guest was already waiting at the door and she wasn't trying to impress some cherub. Whatever Saturday morning cartoon reject that was hovering outside her door could deal with one armed, bed head Lute.

She yanked open the door, mentally preparing some sarcastic remark. Unfortunately, instead of some small floating fuzzy animal, it was Emily, the younger seraphim. Standing there with a big smile and a clipboard clutched in her hands.

“Hel-”

Slam.

Lute held the door shut and blinked several times. Was that- No, she must be hallucinating. Experimentally, she opened the door again.

“-lo!”

Slam.

Shit. She was actually here. What the fuck was she doing here. Lute briefly glared at the ceiling, if this was some divine idea of a joke… Damn it. She really didn't want to talk to Emily of all people. She'd not been fond of Emily before, but after the trial she liked her even less. She'd prefer a visit by Sera, even if it meant getting yelled at for forty five minutes and possibly punched through a wall. Unfortunately, she couldn't tell the seraphim to fuck off either. Lute was ultimately a soldier, that was what she was designed to be. She respected authority and followed orders, even if she didn't like the people giving them… and she was currently making someone several ranks above her wait. Shit. Lute took a centering breath and quickly ran her fingers through her hair to attempt to make herself at least vaguely presentable before she opened the door again.

“... May I speak now?” Emily asked, still happy and smiling despite having the door slammed on her.

“You may, ma'am.” Strict professionalism was the only defense against the complicated mess of emotions this adorable woman spurred. Mostly due to how she reminded Lute of a certain hellborn princess. Seriously, they were uncannily similar.

“Wonderful! I was hoping if I could come in and ask you a few questions?” Emily held up her clipboard with a small giggle. 

“Ma'am, forgive me for being direct… but isn't there literally anyone else you could bother for this?”

“Well, I mean, you weren't my first choice either. You can be kinda…” Emily trailed off, clearly struggling to find a polite way to form her opinion. She was likely flashing back to Lute’s violent outburst at the trial. “Let's go with grumpy.“ Emily settled on at last, Lute just glared at her. “I’ve actually spent most of the morning chatting with the other Exorcists, but in the end they said you'd know the most about the information I need. Well, exact words were ‘best to spin that specific yarn’, which I'm pretty sure I've interpreted correctly.”

Ah, Emily had been talking to Glory and her colorful slang then. 

“They would be correct, I know the most about the Exorcists. Comes with the territory of two and a half centuries of uninterrupted loyal service.” Lute peppered her answer with what was probably more spice than was appropriate for being directed towards someone of higher rank, but Lute had been in something of a bad mood and Emily was at the root of it. “Though, I admit I am curious as to why you need any information about the Exorcists. Don't you have parties and concerts to plan? No offense.” Actually full offense meant but she couldn't say that. Emily's duties had always been with keeping the residents of Heaven happy, not with its defense and security. Outside of the two recent trials, the only time Lute had ever interacted with Emily was to arrange Adam's concerts. Blessedly brief interactions.

“None taken, I already finished all my party planning early because I wanted to make time for this. Speaking of which, may I come in?” Was that sarcasm? Hard to tell with the sentient ball of cotton candy. Lute sighed in annoyance but stepped aside to let the seraphim through. 

Lute’s room was a humble space. Honestly no different from any other dorm room in the barracks. She kept it tidy, organized, and sparsely decorated. All she had was a bed, a side table, a desk with a laptop, a small fridge and a door that led to the bathroom. It was utilitarian, spartan, and most importantly, simple. The best things in life were simple and straightforward.

She pulled the chair from her desk and offered it to Emily as was polite. Despite their differences, the seraphim was her superior and must be treated as such. No matter how convoluted this world tried to become, Lute would always understand and defer to authority. Such was the mark of a good soldier. Emily had to tuck her wings in tight to fit in the room, and her puffy dress absolutely swallowed the chair when she sat in it. Lute made to stand at parade rest, but Emily waved for her to stop.

“No need for that, uh… at ease?” The command was enough to get Lute to relax slightly and sit on her bed as there were no other chairs in the room. “So, uhm, not sure if you remember but during the Trial, Sera mentioned some potential changes in regards to… day to day operations in the Exorcist army.”

“I recall.” Lute said through gritted teeth.

“Well, I managed to convince Sera to let me take a larger part in the daily operations of Heaven, so she suggested I take some time to get a better understanding of the Exorcists and see how I can help out… Also, because she said that she wasn't sure about managing her temper while dealing with you.”

Lute's face fell as Emily explained. It was bad enough that she had been told she was being replaced as leader of the Exorcists forces…. But dealing with Emily? God could not possibly be so cruel, surely the divine had better plans for Lute than an eternity working for this talking sugar puff?... Though the memory of Sera’s backhand was only slightly more unpleasant. Small mercies.

“... I didn't expect you of all people to take sudden interest in military leadership.” Despite her best efforts, Lute couldn't hide the disappointment in her voice.

“Huh? Oh no no. I hate violence. I more meant I want to get to know the Exorcists so I can help decide on new leadership for you all. I was even thinking about trying to talk to some of the old Archangels about taking over.” Emily explained cheerily. Lute still didn't like it, but working under the authority of an Archangel like Michael or Gabriel might be an acceptable replacement for Adam. Kinda. Sorta. Not really. Better than Emily at least. The little Seraphim would have them making flower crowns for new arrivals or something stupid.

“Fine. Questions then.”

“Okay, so. I recall in the trial it was stated by you and Sera that the Exorcists are Adam's creations. I kinda wanted to know how that worked, I didn't know he had the power to create in that way.” Leaning forward with her pen at the ready, Emily seemed excited to take down whatever Lute had to say.

“Reasonable curiosity, I guess.” Lute sighed, “to my knowledge, creation of Angels was not a power Adam developed naturally. He is the oldest mortal soul and cultivated great power, but that one was given to him by Sera when they first discussed the concept of Exterminations. I don't know the exact details, I didn't come into the picture until much later.”

“Uh huh.” Emily nodded, tapping her pen against her clipboard. “So, if Adam got the power to create angels from Sera…. Since I'm a seraphim as well, maybe I have the same power.”

Lute was suddenly very confused.

“Are you implying…. You want to make more Exorcists?”

“Well yeah? Didn't you guys lose a lot of Exorcists in the battle?” she asked.

“56, 57 counting the Exorcist we lost on the previous Extermination.” It was painful to admit they had lost so many in a single battle. Those demons would pay for this.

“I'm sure it must have hurt to lose that many friends. I hope you and your sisters have had time to mourn.” Emily spoke with enough sincerity to give Lute whiplash. Lute stared at the seraphim, looking for any signs of deceit but could find none. Emily was normally an overeager ball of bright energy, but she seemed genuinely saddened at the loss of Exorcist life, which Lute couldn't make sense of.

“... I'm a little confused. Don't you hate us?” Lute couldn't comprehend extending any emotions beyond contempt towards one's enemies, especially not genuine sympathy. Emily seemed shocked and confused at Lute's accusation before her face fell with guilt.

“I can see how you might think that, I was acting a bit smug during the last trial, huh?” Emily admitted, looking apologetic. “I don't hate you or any of the Exorcists. It's just- I think the Exterminations and the treatment of sinners are horrible, so I might have gotten a little wrapped up in trying to discredit them... at your expense, which I really do feel bad about. Honestly, I think you said it best. You and your sisters were just following the orders you were given, believing what you were told to believe. If anything, I hate A-ehm” Emily cut off, likely about to say ‘Adam’, but thought better of it when she saw the way Lute's glare narrowed. ”But let's not speak poorly of the dead. Sure, I want to put an end to the Exterminations, but that doesn't mean the Exorcists need to go with them.”

Lute stifled her twitching fingers as she thought on what Emily said. She knew there would be no point in arguing whether or not sinners deserved their punishment. They did, plain and simple, but Emily wasn't going to listen to her at this point. The naive seraph had been too seduced by that temptress princess to see sense at this point. Lute had her own thoughts and plans in regards to the future and trying to fix things… but at the same time, she had an obligation to her sisters to take care of their future just in case things didn't go to plan. There wasn't exactly any harm in trying to negotiate the best outcome on their behalf.

“I struggle to see what the point of Exorcists would be without Exterminations.” Lute said.

“Oh please, I can think of a dozen things for your girls to be doing. I know I could definitely use the help, do you have any idea how hard my job is?”

“... You plan… parties.”

“The job of keeping the souls of Heaven happy is a bit more complicated than just planning parties, thank you very much.” Emily huffed, indignant. “I manage trauma counseling for new arrivals, cultural exchange programs, planning committees, approve construction projects, and yes, occasionally plan parties and festivals.”

“And you think the Exorcists can help with this?” Lute asked skeptically.

“A lot, yeah. Just because there is no crime in Heaven doesn't mean there aren't arguments and fights. This place is full of different groups and cultures spread across thousands of years of history. Personalities clash all the time and I'm not the best at breaking up fights… Neither are the cherubs.  Having some military trained Exorcists to step in now and then would be great. Not to mention, Guardian angel duty is entirely volunteer based. A few hundred Exorcists donating their time would be huge, not to mention you guys would be really useful for some of the more extreme cases. I tried setting up the C.H.E.R.U.B program for a little bit more divine intervention on earth, but that kinda… blew up in my face. Sera said they might be free from Exile in 100 years if they are well behaved… maybe, I should check on them.”

As Emily pondered, Lute considered. The work being presented wasn't exactly beneath the Exorcists. Truth be told, the Exorcists had little to no responsibility outside of the Exterminations. While Lute had never lacked for things to do as Leader of the Exorcists and Adam's right hand, many of the girls complained of boredom. Part of why they'd initially been excited for twice yearly Exterminations. Exorcists were meant to be soldiers and warriors, but there were worse options than being glorified guards and police. Besides, working alongside Emily might gain some ground in public opinion. Glory had warned her of a growing negative opinion from the winners since the news had broke. Whether Lute personally liked working with Emily or not, this was probably the best deal they were going to get until Lute had an opportunity to get the wheels turning in the right direction.

“Fine.” Lute said, drawing the seraph from her mumbling. “Keep your promises about finding us an appropriate new leader and helping to restore the ranks, then we can make your new vision for the Exorcists work. Most of the girls are more… easy going than me, so I doubt there will be much complaining.”

“Awesome! I’m so excited. I know you have some reservations about change, but I know this will work out great!” Emily was a ball of enthusiasm. Lute would just keep her plans to herself rather than ruin the seraph’s mood. “So, I guess to start with, we should get back to the whole angel creation thing. I mean, I can make Cherubs but they’re like 90% positivity and cloud fluff… bit of a difference in quality compared to Exorcists.”

“An understatement.”

“When I was talking with Glory, she seemed to imply that you had some first hand knowledge on the process, so anything you can tell me would help.” Readying her pen, Emily actually seemed excited to take notes.

“Well, the basics are pretty simple. Adam tended to keep to himself during the creation process, but I’ve been in his workshop plenty of times. Exorcists are hand sculpted from blessed clay, hence why we are a bit sturdier than ‘cloud fluff’. Fancy clay and magic isn’t enough though, Adam said the first attempts at Exorcists lacked personality and will, so he had to add a human element.” Lute explained as best she could. Adam’s descriptions about the process from the few times she inquired were… well… Adam, for all his virtues, was never the most eloquent speaker. Reframing the information in an understandable manner was a bit of a challenge.

“Hand sculpted, huh?” Emily said in a manner that she probably thought was under her breath, pausing in her writing to eye Lute’s figure. Lute couldn’t exactly rebuke the insinuation, Adam had never been shy in admitting he designed the Exorcists to be aesthetically pleasing. “Blessed clay. That might just be dirt mixed with holy water, but Sera gave him the ability, so she might know if the recipe calls for anything specific. What’s the ‘human element’?”

“You will have to forgive me, Seraphim, I don’t know the exact process but Adam developed an ability to make a kind of… psychic impression of a volunteer heavenbound soul, and use it as a mold to help create us. Something about the process adds the secret ingredient that allows us to fully develop souls and sapience. It is a bit of a cheat, some might say, blending the mundane and the divine but we Exorcists seem to be rather free of human flaws.” Lute explained and almost believed it to be true. Lute had, perhaps, a few minor bad habits from her human side but she did her best to keep them under control, it wouldn't do for the others to see that their leader was so flawed. as Lute explained, she was surprised to see that Emily did actually seem to be taking notes. She half expected the seraphim to be doodling.

“So... You're based on other people? Like you have the same personality as some random winner?”

“Not really, we retain no memory and only some of the fundamental aspects of the base personality. At best we might inherit a random selection of interests, personality traits or skills from our… donor. For example, during her visit with The Hellborn Princess, you may have noted that Vaggie has a habit of peppering her sentences with Spanish, meanwhile, Il me semble que j'ai hérité du français.” Lute slipped into French easily, a little too easily. Adam hadn't particularly cared for when she started into ‘baguette’ speak, so she tended to keep it out of her vocal patterns. She was an angel, why waste breath on human languages. It was a habit that Vaggie never made much effort to kick. 

“Oh! c'est merveilleux, est-ce qu'on continue à parler comme ça?” Emily responded back in the language, surprising Lute immensely. She supposed it made sense that Emily picked up several languages as she spent all her time with mortal souls.

“Ah… No ma'am, this is fine.” Maybe a small part of her did, but she really shouldn't give into base impulses, Adam would be disappointed in her lack of restraint.

“That is interesting though, I kind of wonder who you guys are imprinted from, setting up some kind of meet and greet would be interesting... Doubt Adam kept records of that though.” Emily looked up from her notes to see Lute shake her head, Adam didn't take notes on anything. Lute asked about her own origin once upon a time, Adam had simply replied ‘some badass French bitch’ and left it at that. “At the same time, it seems like a lot of extra work. Sounds like it would have just been easier to recruit willing souls to become Exorcists rather than make them wholesale.”

“That would have been a disaster for a list of reasons. Firstly, we have no idea what effects the presence of Hell would have on a mortal soul that has already achieved entrance to heaven, the realm’s evils might infect them. Adam was powerful enough to resist such influence, but even he did not remain in Hell very long. Secondly, it was for the best that Adam did not have to work with anyone in his own lineage,” Lute explained, but noted that Emily gave her an odd look at that part. “Lastly, mortal souls, be they righteous or damned, are flawed. Too easily driven by emotions. Unlike us angels, they cannot be trusted to give out Heaven's judgment without question. A mortal exorcist might hesitate or even be unable to strike down someone in Hell they recognize, such as a former lover or relative. No, mortal exorcists are not nearly as trustworthy as angels crafted by Adam's own hand, who are exclusively loyal to him.”

“ There you go again. ” Emily mumbled to herself at a volume she probably thought that Lute couldn't hear. What was that supposed to mean? Lute was just speaking the truth. What was Emily actually writing? “So! Have you ever actually seen Adam animate an Exorcist? If you could take me through the memory, I could probably pick up some important details you might not think to mention.”

“Adam usually handled the awakening and orientation process himself. It was important for new Exorcists to learn their purpose directly from him.” Lute began, but noticed Emily was giving her that look again. Ignoring it, she continued. “with … one exception, where I handled the orientation instead. If you are sure you need to hear the story,” There were some less than pleasant associations tied up with this particular memory, but Emily was nodding and looking excited as a child getting a bedtime story. “Very well. It was about 156 years ago-”

—

The workshop was always the last place that Lute would check whenever she needed to find the commander. As much as she respected him, she would note that it was rather rare to find him being productive. Sure, he made lovely music but that was more an activity for the drawing room or the smoking room. His obsession of the era seemed to be with orchestral works. He was a big fan of some still living mortal, Pyotr Tchaikov-something or other. Lute was of the mind that it was too early to tell if the young composer was worth the attention, as of the current year, he had yet to release anything of note beyond a few okay symphonies and a decent rendition of Romeo and Juliet. Speaking of music, Adam was going to be late for his own performance if Lute couldn’t find him.

Normally she might have been more graceful about knocking and respecting the privacy of her commander’s creative process, but she was running against the clock. Throwing open the door to the workshop, she was pleased to find that he was indeed in the room… She was less pleased at the position she found him in.

Adam was on his knees, both hands pressed against the rather ample posterior of a clay statue. He turned to look at her, blinking in surprise at her sudden entrance. She stared back at him, repressing a blush and struggling to get her thoughts together.

“Uh… Hello Lute, just let yourself in, I guess.” Adam chuckled, going back to shaping the clay without any sense of shame. He wasn’t wearing his helmet today, Lute considered it a rare treat to see his face and the content smile that came over it when he was hard at work. Even if that work was shaping a clay butt. “You need something? One might say I have my hands full.”

“Apologies for the intrusion, Sir.” Lute apologized, quickly composing herself. “I hate to interrupt you while you are uhm… working, but you are due for a concert at the Grand Pavilion in-'' She pulled out her favorite pocket watch and clicked it open, double checking the time. “25 minutes, sir.”

“Fuuck, that was today?” Adam groaned, grabbing the bridge of his nose without concern for the clay he smeared on his face. “Lost track of time. I can fly there, might be a bit- What's that new expression? ‘Fashionably late?’ I like that one.”

Lute suppressed the urge to cringe. She rather liked being on time, even if she wasn't the best at writing up schedules. It was often a herculean task to make sure they were always punctual despite Adam’s rather lackadaisical pace. This was not behavior to encourage, lest it spread to the rest of the army.

“Sir, you have many fans who are excited to see you perform, you surely wouldn’t want to keep them waiting?”

“Yes, yes. You win. The new girl is pretty much done anyway. Tell me what you think!” Adam stood, tapping the side of the clay statue as she began to magically rotate in the air.

As the figure turned enough for Lute to see her face… Lute was honestly stunned. She had known that Exorcists were made of clay, but assumed that magic made up a fair bit of the divide between clay statue and angel. She couldn’t be farther from the truth. Adam may very well be one of the best sculptors in the history of mankind, though having a few centuries of practice was likely a factor. The detail of the figure was immaculate, so unbelievably lifelike. Lute might have believed the girl in front of her was merely sleeping, had she not walked in on Adam literally shaping part of her body. The girl was a little bit shorter than Lute, of slender build aside from her wide hips and shapely legs. She had a proud, hooked nose that Lute thought complimented the shape of her face very well. Her hair, sculpted in seemingly impossible detail, was framed in a cute bob cut, with one long bang nearly covering one of her eyes.

“... She’s beautiful.” Lute could think of no other way to describe her, her concerns about punctuality forgotten as she was momentarily transfixed on the figure before her.

“Right? She might be some of my best work since I made you. Honestly, look at this ass!” Adam exclaimed, slapping the figure’s butt, only to curse as he had to smooth out the handprint it left. “Shame I was running out of clay when it came to the chest, but the flat look isn’t so bad. Something of a ballerina figure.”

“Does she have a name?” Now even Lute paced around the figure, admiring the details of her form. It felt a bit odd to be looking so intently at another woman, but she wasn’t yet alive and Lute had never seen an Exorcist in this stage of their creation before.

“She does! Put a lot of work into this girl, so I’m naming her after one of the best things ever.” Adam stepped away, shoving on his Exorcist mask. The black screen flashed to life with a devilish smile as he made a dramatic gesture towards the figure, announcing her name. “Vaggie!”

Lute tried not to cringe. She really did. Adam was famously bad at naming things. Her own name was technically ‘Lieutenant’ with Lute being a nickname. The way he pronounced the name with a soft g made it sound like-

“... as in Vagina?”

“Exactly! God’s best idea, after me, of course.” Adam gave a great roaring laugh at that, Lute laughed along halfheartedly. She adored Adam, he was a creative genius in many areas… but when it came to naming his creations. Well. Best she not say anything, there were worse names. Adam picked his golden violin out of the corner, taking a second to pluck the strings and make sure it was still in tune. The divine relic rarely ever needed such maintenance, but Adam was meticulous in the care of the instrument no matter what form it took. He tended to change it based on whatever style of music he preferred in the current decade. “I guess I need to start flying if I’m going to make the performance… I feel kind of weird about leaving her finished but asleep. Hmm, think you can do me a favor?”

“Of course, anything for you, sir.” 

“If I go ahead and wake her up, do you think you could do the orientation and everything? That way I can go ahead and fly off for the concert without being late.” He suggested. Lute opened her mouth, blinking a few times as she processed the request. Adam normally handled this kind of thing by himself… but Lute supposed she remembered enough of her own awakening to guide this ‘Vaggie’. What was the harm, especially if it got Adam flying off faster?

“I believe I can handle that, sir.”

“Fabulous! It’ll only take a second to wake her up.” Adam moved back to his tool bench, dismissing the golden instrument with a flick of his wrist. Lute honestly wondered why Adam bothered to carry the thing around when he could make it appear and disappear at will.

Picking up some kind of carving tool with an angled head, Adam stepped over to the floating figure. Given his truly impressive stature, he actually had to lean down to be at face level with the figure despite her floating a foot off the ground. With a surprisingly gentle touch, he parted her lips. Lute was surprised both that the clay didn’t warp and that it seemed truly every inch of her had been made in stunning detail. Right down to the girl’s tongue and teeth. Working carefully, he put the tool into her mouth and began carving something on the back of her tongue.

“What are you doing?” Lute couldn’t help her curiosity, after all, she must have been made in the same way. It was very hard to resist the urge to feel her tongue to check for whatever marks Adam was making.

“Magic, Lute. Magic. Sera taught me words have power, took a few tries to find the right ones. You girls get weird if I use the wrong ones. Emét works pretty well, only with the Hebrew letters though. Tried the same word in different alphabets, poor bitch exploded.” Adam explained in a tone that left Lute wondering if that was a joke. Either way, she flapped her wings to get on eye level, getting a glimpse at the three characters Adam carved.

Seemingly content with his work, Adam held up his hand and a metal chest on the other end of the room rattled. Its lid popped open, inside glowing brightly. It's contents were dozens of floating white orbs. One of the orbs floated across the room, the lid snapping shut behind it. Adam grabbed it, turning it back and forth as if inspecting some details Lute couldn't discern. Eventually, he just shrugged and stuffed the ball down the statue’s throat. “Made that one a few decades ago, some lady involved in a revolution in one of the Spanish colonies… I forget which one. Should be a good personality.”

Then, without any fancy words or ceremony, Adam lightly slapped the jaw shut. The effect was immediate. A strange pulse moved through the air towards the figure, crackling black lightning manifesting at her feet and arcing over her body until it reached her head. The energy shot up, condensing and forming into the signature black halo of an exorcist. Life seemed to enter the body at that point. Light brown clay shifted to smooth lavender skin and white hair with a subtle touch of purple at the tips. Her wings twitched, taking on the black and white pattern of an Exorcist, but with only one stripe compared to Lute’s two.

The transformation seemed to complete as the figure, or rather Vaggie, took a very slow breath, air filling her lungs for the first time. As if waking from a dream, her eyes fluttered open and happened to lock directly onto Lute. Lute felt her own breath catch involuntarily. If Lute had thought the girl beautiful before… her eyes were absolutely captivating. Soft rosy pink, with glowing ivory pupils. Wide and expressive, those eyes seemed as transfixed on Lute as she was on Vaggie. The unexpected staring contest might have gone on if not for Adam’s interruption.

“Fuck. Eyes came out wrong. She looks high. Its always fucking something.” he griped, seeming to have lost all his previous enthusiasm at this perceived flaw. Lute personally disagreed with his assessment, but it wasn’t her place to argue.

Vaggie, however, finally seemed to notice Adam. In retrospect, he probably should have taken his mask off before waking her up. She screamed. Loudly. 

“¡El Diablo!” The newly awakened angel cried, flapping her wings in an attempt to get away from him. Doing so seemed to break whatever spell held her suspended in the air, causing her to flop inelegantly to the ground in a crash of feathers and limbs.

“Alright, fucking enough of that. English, I know you speak it. Come on.” Adam snapped his finger, impatiently prompting the girl to switch languages. 

“E-english?” Vaggie looked up, confused. A frown came over her and she touched the side of her head. She seemed to be struggling to figure out what the concept of English was. It took her a few seconds, but finally she tried speaking again. “... t-this is English? How do I know…” she trailed off, clearly very confused. Waking up was pretty disorienting, Lute knew from experience. Going straight from non-existence to a mind full of knowledge and skills but no memories was quite the experience.

“Perfect, worried you’d be talking taco forever. Alright, I’m off Lute, she’s your problem now.” Adam said dismissively as he turned to walk out of the room. He could be a little bit blunt at times, but Lute didn’t understand why he seemed to have suddenly soured on Vaggie. Her eyes might be an unusual color, but Lute thought it pleasantly unique… Maybe it was her accidentally comparing him to the Devil, an unflattering comparison to be sure but his mask was meant to look demonic. 

Turning to look down at Vaggie, Lute gave the new girl a reassuring smile. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she had a good feeling about this newest Exorcist. The girl did seem to have realized her own nakedness, awkwardly trying to cover herself with her wings and she looked after where Adam had walked off.

“Pavoroso…” Vaggie mumbled.

“He’s pretty great once you get to know him.” Lute said, moving to the work bench. Of course, Adam didn’t have any spare clothes laying around but there was a large sheet that would work until Lute could get her a uniform. Lute didn’t know what the word Vaggie said meant, but guessed it wasn’t flattering given her tone. She’d come to appreciate Adam in time, Lute was confident. Vaggie looked skeptical at Lute’s assessment of Adam, but accepted the sheet with a nod and did her best to wrap herself up.

“... He said… you are Lute?” Vaggie asked, tilting her head and pausing as she shorted through the strange mix of out of context information in her mind. “Like an instrument?”

“Not quite like the instrument.” Lute sighed, but nodded. “Yes, I am Lute. Adam’s second in command, leader of the Exorcist Army, of which you are the newest recruit. Congratulations, you will serve an essential function to the safety of Heaven, it is an honor.”

“Oh, I see.” Vaggie nodded along as Lute spoke, but then frowned. “I have no idea what any of that means.”

“... It will take some explaining. We can walk and talk, get you a proper uniform.” Lute offered, and Vaggie eagerly followed along seemingly excited at the prospect of better clothes than a sheet.

“Uhm, Lute?”

“Yes?”

“Who am I?” It was such an innocent question, Lute had almost forgotten that Adam had neglected to actually mention the girl’s name to her before he walked out. Lute’s mouth opened to deliver the unfortunate news, but she hesitated when she looked back into the wide curious eyes of the girl walking with her.

“Your name is… Vaggie.” Lute altered Adam’s pronunciation just slightly, making it sound more like ‘Maggie’ than vagina, as Adam originally intended. Not technically a lie or disobeying an order or anything like that. Just a simple ‘error’ of pronunciation. Adam probably wouldn’t even notice.

“Vaggie.” She tested the name, a smile growing on her face for the first time. Lute thought the smile looked right on her.

—

“- and well, I’m sure you’ll probably want to change what new Exorcists learn in orientation, so I think we can skip that part of the story.” Lute finished her tale. Those memories always brought mixed emotions. Vaggie had such potential, it was a shame she had thrown it all away.

Emily looked starstruck by the tale, clutching her little clipboard so hard Lute feared it might shatter.

“You named Vaggie! That’s so cool!” The seraphim gushed, practically vibrating in her chair.

“I did not name her, just… made a slight error when telling her Adam’s intended name.” Lute waved dismissively. She probably should have left that bit out of the retelling. The pronunciation of Vaggie’s name had actually turned into something of a point of contention. Adam always using the soft g version of the name, with Vaggie staunchly clinging to Lute’s version of the name. Lute had never admitted to her act of inference to either of them and secretly worried the name issue was at the root of why Vaggie had never gotten along with Adam… It did feel weirdly freeing to finally get it off her chest though. “More importantly, did you get what you needed out of the tale?”

“Oh yes, yes I think I’ve got everything I need. Knowing the word and alphabet Adam used definitely helps. It will probably take a few tries to make a proper Exorcist, I haven’t worked with clay for a few hundred years, but I’m confident I can pull it off” Emily pumped her tiny fists, clearly excited by the challenge. Lute just hoped her sculpting skills were better than the cutesy forms of the cherubs might imply. “This has all been really informative, thank you for working with me despite everything. I know this is a tough time for you.”

“It is what it is.” Lute said noncommittally. This whole interaction could have been worse, and nothing Emily said would interfere with Lute’s own plans… Whatever those might be, it was still too early to tell. “As long as you keep to your promises, I can cooperate.”

“Of course! The Exorcist project might take a bit to get off the ground, but getting your girls some new duties can probably happen soon if everyone is willing. And I'm confident I'll be able to find you all some new leadership that's right for you. Hopefully someone that treats you guys better at the very least.” Emily gave a big ol’ radiant smile.

Lute’s brief good mood evaporated like water thrown into a hot pan. Her eye twitched slightly at the comment.

“What do you mean by ‘treats us better’?” Leaning forward, Lute's expression turned dangerous. Emily blinked several times at the change in tone. The seraph shifted nervously, tapping her fingers on her clipboard. Emily seemed more confident these days but she was clearly unused to confrontation.

“Uh… that's uh… quite the glare. Well. I mean, like bare minimum, all this is happening because Adam nearly got you all killed for his uh ego trip. Oh, yeah, glaring harder… Uh, there are also the rumors…” Emily trailed off, no longer willing to make eye contact.

“What. Rumors?”

“ ... I well… Adam was known to be something of a womanizer and all. So. You know. One twice divorced man… A small army of women who obey him without question. P-people talk-” 

“Get out.” Lute hissed the words through an iron tight jaw, eyes burning with a deep fury that made Emily wither in her seat.

“L-Lute, I d-didn’t mean to upse-”

“GET! OUT!”

A moment later, Lute's door slammed open as a panicked Emily shoved herself out of it in a flurry of feathers. She was chased out by a tirade of angry French as she took to the sky, pounding her wings to escape a desk lamp being hurled after her. 

“- Sortez d'ici avant que je vous arrache les plumes, espèce de pigeon à tête aérienne!” Lute screamed, shaking her fist after the fleeing Seraph. How dare she? How fucking dare she? She had no idea what the hell she was talking about. She had no right to speak of Adam that way, to accuse him- “WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT!?” Lute roared, turning her anger towards a few unlucky Exorcists and Cherubs who happened to witness the scene. They all scattered like leaves to the wind, unwilling to face Lute’s fury.

A growl escaped Lute as she slammed her fist against the doorframe. She'd had fucking enough of this. She snatched her prosthetic off the table, angrily throwing on and tightening the straps as she stomped out of her door towards Adam's mansion. The gaggle of cherubs that would normally shadow her were blessedly unwilling to get within spitting distance after she had chased off Emily. Small fucking miracles. She was desperate for something to get her mind off everything.

Adam's mansion wasn't locked, few things in Heaven were. She barely even needed to look where she was going to navigate to his private room. Throwing the door open, her eyes flicked around the room. It was the conceptual opposite to her own space. Large and spacious, opulent in its design and furniture. Posters of mortal bands and shelves showing off various bits and bobs of human culture Adam had enjoyed. Lute's focus was drawn to the massive bed, as she had left it last time she came in. Neatly made, with Adam's halo sat in the center of the bed. The sight of it made her stomach churn with a complex surge of emotion that she barely managed to contain.

The object of her desire was Adam's guitar. The large golden guitar, created in the shape of an angelic lute, made out of blessed steel. It gave off a slight glow, its strings seeming to hum softly without even being touched. A creation made specifically for the first man, a divine gift, one of Heaven's finest works. She snatched it off its stand. Normally she'd be more delicate with the guitar, but she was desperate for the escape it promised. He’d allowed her to use it several times over her lifetime to practice music. It felt right in her hands, a calming warmth to it, as if the guitar welcomed her presence. There was a strange feeling of possibility as her fingers curled around its neck. She knew that the instrument could change form beyond the guitar and axe Adam mostly used these days. The item had taken dozens of shapes in the mere two and a half centuries she’d been around, always conforming to Adam’s favorite style of music. Out of all the music Lute had known, Lute agreed with Adam on the superiority of rock and metal. Though it was a rather new and modern medium, it seemed especially appropriate for Lute’s mood, the guitar would be ideal.

One of the walls of Adam's room was dominated by a set of huge amps. She'd done this before, learned from Adam, sat by while he practiced. Bringing the amps to life was quick work, a slight hum filling the room. Slamming a plug into the guitar, the golden strings gained a radiant glow, begging to be played.

She took a second long break from her frantic rush. Putting her mind in order as best she could. Adam had always found peace and release in music. She'd been happy to sit by and watch while he played, watching him get lost in the rhythm. She wanted that. Desperately. She wanted that oblivion to free her mind of all these conflicting thoughts and emotions. She didn't want to keep asking questions, to keep hearing awful contradictions that were cracking her world apart inch by painful inch.

Slowly, delicately at first, she started plucking at the strings. No rhyme or reason, just feeling out the guitar. Her prosthetic arm was of magical design, but not quite mobile and agile as a real hand. She practically needed to relearn how to play.

Lute set her mind to all the songs Adam had taught her. Music, his music. His favorites and ones he wrote himself. She'd known them all, learned them to be his backup guitarist. Bit by bit, she amped up the speed and intensity of the music. Her prosthetic hand began to have an influence on how she played, just different enough from her old hand that she needed to adjust to it. Adjustment became deviation. The music began to change. Less of him, more of… her. Her sound, her music, her songs.

God, when was the last time Lute had done anything just for herself? Had she ever? … No, she hadn't- no. No, none of that. No more thoughts, only music.

Lute chased the elusive oblivion that came with losing oneself to music. She didn't want to think. Not about Hell. Not about Heaven. Not about Adam. Not about Charlie or Vaggie. Not about how everything was changing and she had no control.

Her fingers danced up and down the strings at a frantic pace.  The room shook with the volume, she was sure half of Heaven was able to listen in on her impromptu rock session. Good. Let them hear it. Let them know how she felt. Somewhere in the music, she found what she was looking for. Relief. Temporary and ephemeral, but it was there and it bleed new life and clarity into her… but such things have to end eventually.

When she finally stopped playing, she was soaked with sweat and panting for breath. The fingers of her old hand were bleeding and those of her prosthetic felt oddly warm. Breathing heavily as the last notes turned to dead air, Lute stumbled to the side and powered down the amps before slumping against them, exhausted to the core. She had no idea how long she'd been at it, but it had to have been several hours at least.

“ Fuck. ” Lute let out the word between gasps, letting her head slump against the amps. She closed her eyes, trying to calm her breathing and ignore her ringing ears.

This has felt… good. Freeing. She might have to do it more often. That being said. It was a distraction. A temporary distraction. There was still so much happening.

Heaven was being cowardly and stupid. This redemption nonsense. It had to be some elaborate hoax or something. It had to be, there was no other option she could accept. Some heretical lie arranged by the Princess of Hell to throw Heaven into chaos. If they just listened to her, let her take the army and strike a blow that Hell would never recover from, all this would go away… It wouldn't bring Adam back, but it would set Heaven back on track, wouldn't it? All that mattered was a return to the status quo. A return to a world Lute understood. 

It wasn't like she could do anything about it yet, which was the worst part. Inaction was poison that would turn into complacency if she let it. But what could she actually do? The Seraphim were having the Exorcist watched and already took their weapons. Not to mention, Lute couldn't exactly get to Hell if she wanted to, not without the Seraphim opening a portal. All she could do was sit by and watch everything literally go to hell…

Her hand ached, she probably needed to bandage her fingers or something. Wounds healed faster in Heaven, but she was getting blood on Adam's axe. Then again, the golden liquid didn't exactly stand out against the angelic steel.

Lute's eyes opened slowly. Silently, she tilted her head down to look at the guitar, noting the bladed edge. Adam had used it to defeat the Radio Demon. Beyond merely an instrument, it was a weapon by design, one of the most powerful crafted by Heaven. More than that… Lute lifted her prosthetic hand, flexing the blessed steel claws. She ran a claw along the edge of the axe, listening to the way it skated across the superior metal without even leaving a mark.

“Those… absolute… morons. '' Lute breathed, sitting up slightly. Heaven wasn't used to dishing out punishment more complex than a quick banishment, they let those stupid cherubs do most of the work. They'd taken all the traditional weapons, but hadn't thought to confiscate Adam's Guitar or her new prosthetic. Lute had weapons. This changed things.

… More than that, she had a way into Hell. The Seraphim were making a trip to the Heaven Embassy in Hell in a few days. If Lute started planning now…

A grin cracked across Lute's face. Looks like she would be getting her vengeance after all.

Chapter Text

Charlie did not like the Heaven Embassy.

Its design was lavish. Made of the finest marble with gold and silver worked into every surface. The furniture within was luxuriant, immaculately clean, and every appliance was of fine make. The building was beautiful, likely only rivaled by her family’s personal mansion in quality of its design…  and it was perpetually empty. Lights rarely turned on, giving it an oddly grim quality. 

It was a wonder the place wasn't broken into with Sinners looking to literally strip the gold out of the walls. In truth, Sinners rarely even looked at the building if they could avoid it. Charlie always wondered if they avoided the place out of fear or… something deeper in the subconscious. If a glance at perfection reminded them of the flaws they tried to ignore. Food for thought.

In Charlie's own eyes, the building was a monument to the worst parts of Heaven. A symbol of the Exterminations and the cold indifference that allowed it. It was also where she first interacted with Adam, so automatic one star, ‘would not recommend’ review. On the walk over, Charlie had asked her dad his opinion on the place, who simply shrugged and said he thought the place looked tacky. Charlie wasn't honestly sure what she had expected, her father could be a little hard to read at times.

Same as her last visit a 7 months prior (had it already been so long? Wild), shortly after stepping inside, a golden scroll flashed into existence. In a flash, an angelic spear was shoved towards the scroll, a snarling Vaggie behind it. Chuckling softly, Charlie raised a finger and gently pushed the spear away.

“Thanks for the assist, but I don’t think the scroll is going to bite.” Charlie teased, stepping forward to scratch her name across the scroll’s sign in.

“Sorry… This place has me a little on edge.” Vaggie muttered, lowering her spear to sign in as well. Vaggie was always a little high strung, but more so whenever Heaven was involved. For good reason, if Charlie was being honest. Moreover, This was technically Vaggie’s first time in the Embassy. Adam apparently usually only took Lute on the few times he stopped into the building (or rather, hologrammed in) and she hadn’t come in last time because she was still hiding her Exorcist past.  Something Charlie was really glad they had worked through. Their relationship was stronger, Vaggie was more willing to involve herself in Heaven related stuff and, if Charlie was being honest, the wings were hot. Hard to tell if Vaggie was just really pretty or if Charlie had a thing for angels. Maybe both. Wrong time and place to dwell on it.

“You know, Char-char and I could handle this if you’re too wound up there.” Lucifer added in, merely tapping the feather quill against the scroll before his signature burned across the surface in a flash. Was it just Charlie or did the scroll seem to shudder slightly at his touch before it rolled up and zipped away?

“Call me paranoid, sir, but I don’t like Charlie going around without protection. Especially nowadays.” Vaggie said, eye scanning the room. Charlie found herself smiling at her partner, as she often did. Truth was, Charlie didn’t actually need protection and both of them knew it. She was Princess of Hell, and while that title came with a variety of targets on her back, it also came with an insane amount of power. Power that Charlie didn’t like to use. Ever. The battle at the Hotel was a rare exception where she had really let loose, but it was under extreme circumstances. Charlie just didn’t like to be seen as mean or forceful. She went out of her way to repress her demonic abilities and nature, trying to appear more human like her people. It actually meant a lot that Vaggie was willing to step in and be her protector, most people wouldn’t be as accommodating of her pacifism. Seviathan certainly hadn't been.

“Without protec- I'm the best protection possible! Did you forget that I’m king? Lucifer, the Morning Star? Who could possibly hurt my little girl while I’m around?” Lucifer scoffed, turning on his heel and walking towards one of the nearby elevator doors as it dinged open.

“No offense sir, You’re very powerful but not exactly… observant.” Vaggie said, following suit, holding her hand on the frame so Charlie had a little extra time to get in.

“You’re really not, dad.” smiling, Charlie gave Vaggie a peck on the cheek as she passed before taking place at the back of the elevator, giggling as the Angel's face flushed. It was so much fun to make Vaggie blush, Charlie could never resist an opportunity.

“I’ll have you both know I am incredibly detail oriented. I can draw building schematics with my eyes closed!” her dad was so caught up in defending his observational skills, he remained completely oblivious to their casual flirting, which only proved the point.

“Of course sir, but situational awareness isn’t your thing. You got pick pocketed about two blocks back.” Vaggie reached a hand behind her, into the strange, ephemeral, mysterious hammer space that was her hair and withdrew a slim brown leather wallet with an apple design on the front, handing it to Lucifer. The King of Hell glared at it for a few seconds before rolling his eyes and shoving it in his pocket. 

“Doesn't prove anything.” He huffed, crossing his arms

“I think it does dad.” Charlie couldn't help laughing at her dad's expense. The elevator ride was blessedly short, the doors dinging open. Of course, Vaggie charged forward into the new room first. All business again, Vaggie quickly and efficiently scanned and cleared the room in military fashion. It was hard not to be on edge, given the recent battle it was anyone's guess how Heaven might respond. Charlie and Vaggie had been prepared for the worst, but her dad was surprisingly chill. The meeting room was notably empty, prompting Charlie to quickly pull out her phone and check the time. “Huh, kind of surprised we got here first. Last time, Adam was waiting for me in the dark, all creepy like.”

“Not surprising really. Well, I suppose it might be to you. Strange as it sounds, Adam would always go out of his way to get here first. Wanted to take the big chair first, just to spite me.” Lucifer said, pulling out said chair and plopping into it. “Sera on the other hand, due to her habit of overthinking literally everything, actually loses track of time incredibly easily. Almost always late. Of all the things that have changed in 10,000 years, I doubt that's one of them.”

That didn't sound like it made sense to Charlie, Sera had given the impression of a perfectionist… but Sera was the last one to arrive for the trial. Charlie had just assumed that was for dramatic effect or had Heaven just adjusted to waiting to start until Sera arrived? Charlie was tempted to ask her father more about Sera and some of the other stuff he knew about heaven, but it wasn't something he often liked to discuss.

Vaggie was quick to pull out a seat for Charlie, which she took gladly. Vaggie preferred to stand for these kinds of meetings. Easier for her to react if something goes wrong. Honestly, Charlie was just as worried. The last two meetings with Heaven had been… disasters.  Her dad hadn't said much about this meeting, apparently Sera had been vague in her communications. All he knew is that Sera was coming personally to discuss the failed Extermination… which seemed like a pretty major deal? It had been her impression that the high Seraphim didn't even like thinking of Hell, much less visiting.

Moreover, she wasn't sure if she was supposed to even be here. The meeting had only called for her dad, but he asked Charlie to come because she was ‘too involved to sit it out’. Which… yeah. Still, she had never really been involved in the greater politics of Heaven or even Hell. Her position as Princess barely meant much in the grand scheme. If anything, her mother had done the bulk of the politicking. Both as a public figure to the Sinners and a representative of Pride to the lower rings. Charlie had only been to a few meetings when her dad was still more active in Hell’s political scene, but only to observe. Even that was decades ago. She'd never actually been an active participant until now. She had rather mixed feelings about it.

Lucifer perked up slightly, eyes flicking to the large double doors at the far end of the room.

“They're here.” No sooner had he said it than the doors shot open. Charlie had expected several things to happen whether this meeting was going to go good or bad, she wasn't expecting a pair of Exorcists to be flying through the doors at the start of the meeting! Surely they would save some kind of wild assassination attempt for the end of the meeting?? 

Ever the fearless bodyguard, Vaggie slid in front of Charlie. Once upon a time there might have been hesitation at facing her own kind, but the angel had broken that bad habit. She leveled her spear at the oncoming angels, bracing her body for impact. The Exorcists came in fast, weapons in hand and flew right past her, Charlie, and Lucifer? Instead they angled towards the elevator, landed, pressed a button and patiently waited for the doors to open. Uh… what? The pair of Exorcists were definitely glancing back at them, masks frowning and weapons gripped a bit too tightly, but they made no move to attack.

“Sorry! Sorry!” A new voice came from the double doors. The source was the younger Seraphim, Emily. The nice one that had actually agreed with Charlie and stood up against the Exterminations. She awkwardly half tumbled into the meeting room, looking flustered. “I'm not used to giving orders, I should have told them to wait. Really didn't mean to jump scare anyone, I swear!”

“Emily?” Charlie pushed herself out of her seat, walking closer to the Seraphim. The angel was a delight to see… but at the same time, “you’re using Exorcists to work for you?”

“Charlie! So good to see you again! And well, yeah. I promise it's not what you think, it's just well, Sera was really nervous about coming to Hell because of well… everything. No offense” she gave a slight grimace, to which Lucifer and Charlie automatically responded with a quick ‘none taken’. They knew Hell could be Hellish. Emily continued “So, to ease her nerves, we wanted to have some security, but getting the Archangels out of retirement is kind of hard, also kind of maybe even more threatening? So Exorcists! I know, I know, you probably don't want to see them but it's fine, they’re going to stay in the building and just watch the doors, no harm for any of your people.” 

“But, the Exorcists have been exterminating Sinners for hundreds of years. Do you really trust them to sit tight and follow orders?” Charlie tilted her head, wondering if something had changed or if Emily was even more trusting than she was. Given the Seraphim hadn't even known about the Exterminations until about a month ago, it was very possible.

“... Well, it is only two of them. Especially now that Sinners know how to fight back, they have a million to one odds at best.” Vaggie, of all people, stepped into the conversation, putting a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. She glanced over her shoulder as the elevator dinged to let in the two Exorcists, who glared right back at her until the doors closed. “After what happened at the Hotel, none of them would be stupid enough for a solo trip to Hell, but what I’m curious about is why you’re the one giving them orders. What happened to Lute?”

“Lute is on probation,” Came the regal voice of Sera as The High Seraphim floated into the room. Respectfully, no one commented on how she had to take a second to duck under the door frame, which wasn’t quite built for her impressive stature. “We can assure you, this meeting is one of purely peaceful intentions. I admit, I was not expecting to see you again Miss Morningstar, but it is likely for the best that you are here. You as well, Vaggie. Given that the nature of your forced fall was exposed recently, I had actually intended to extend something of a formal apology in regards to Lute's actions. I was unaware exactly how… extremist the Exorcists had become. I may have also considered an invitation back to Heaven, but given your…” Sera took a second, glancing between Vaggie and Charlie, taking time to pick her words. “Involvement with Miss Morningstar, I assume you are content with your situation.”

Charlie repressed a wince. Sera was clearly trying, but it was pretty clear that involvement between an angel and a demon made the Seraphim uncomfortable. The elder Seraphim seemed to have a general distaste and mild fear of anything Hell related, which was kind of understandable as long as she wasn’t being mean about it. Charlie opted to be nice and give her credit for trying.

“Thank you, the offer… means a lot actually? But, yeah. I’m fine where I am.” Vaggie responded, putting her hand on Charlie’s shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. Sera responded with a polite nod of acknowledgement. The woman took a second to collect herself before she turned to acknowledge the elephant in the room… or rather, the Devil in the room.

Lucifer sat in silence, patiently waiting. His expression was neutral, painfully so. The silence that came over the room was terribly loud. The High Seraphim and The Morning Star stared at each other without words, seemingly daring the other to break first. The tension in the air was thick and loaded, but not exactly hostile. Charlie hoped it wouldn’t turn hostile, she genuinely wasn’t sure if even she would survive being in the blast zone if these two got violent.

Finally, Sera seemed to give in. She cast her eyes down, folding her hands in front of her as she gave a partial bow.

“Lucifer Morningstar, thank you for allowing passage into your realm for my sister and I so that we may plead our case.” As she did so, a subtle flick of her wing at Emily’s back prompted Emily to bow as well. The sudden formality felt strange to Charlie, she’d never seen anyone get that formal with her dad, except maybe King Paimon. Weirder still, coming from representatives of Heaven. In virtually every other situation, the standing implication of Heaven’s superior authority was made very clear. Seeing the reverse was very, very odd.

“By the old laws of hospitality, I make you welcome in my domain. No harm shall befall you under my watch.” Lucifer stood, only to give a light bow of his head before returning to a more casual seated position. That seemed to be the code phrase to defuse most of the tension in the air. When in Heaven, Charlie had the impression that Sera was very composed and hard to read, but the Angel visibly relaxed at the archaic statement from Lucifer. She pulled out the other large seat opposite Lucifer and sat down, tucking her wings in as best she could in a vain attempt to not appear so large and imposing. Emily stood up from her bow, looking at Charlie and Vaggie, just as confused as they were, before shrugging and floating over to a seat. Hesitantly, the pair followed suit. Seeing everyone nicely seated, Lucifer clapped his hands, dropping the formal attitude “Great, cool. Formalities out of the way, let's get this meeting on track. It has to be big stuff to get you two all the way down here.”

“Yes Lucifer, given recent events we-” Sera began, but was cut off by Emily half leaning over the table to get a better look at Lucifer.

“Oh gosh, are you really Lucifer? I’ve heard so much about you, but never thought I’d get to actually meet you considering the whole, you know, fall thing. Is that offensive to say?” The smaller Seraphim looked at Lucifer without fear, some amount of caution but no fear. Less like the great Biblical adversary, but more like some cool snake that she knew could bite but thought was too cool to look away.

“That’d be me, yup. Hopefully the things you’ve heard haven’t been too terrible,” Lucifer’s eyes flicked to Sera, who turned her head and coughed lightly. Charlie felt that answered that. “But uh, can’t say I… remember… you. Sera, should I remember her?”

“No, she came into being after… The Fall” Sera answered.

“I’m Emily, great to meet you, I already met Charlie last time.” The smaller Seraphim beamed.

“Ah huh” Lucifer worked his jaw for a moment, looking at Emily with an odd expression. “Wasn’t aware that God was still… making new angels.”

“Emily was… one of the last.” Sera’s hands twitched slightly where they rested on the table, uncomfortable at the topic. “After the Fall and the retirement of the Archangels, Heaven was given its new purpose to home the souls of mortals; a handful of new angels were brought into being to help facilitate this task. Emily keeps the Heavenbound souls happy and helps them adjust to their afterlife.”

Lucifer gave a light shrug and seemed to accept this without further question. Charlie, however, thought that was a bit of a bombshell to just brush over.

“Wait wait wait, so you’re telling me that you both have actually, like, met and interacted with God? Like, The God, creator of the universe god. God is just a real living entity that we can talk to?” Charlie asked, looking back and forth between the two.

“Of course we met them, they made us. Kinda hard not to.” Lucifer shrugged. “Technically speaking, they’re your… Grandpa? Grandma? Grandparent. Gender is a dumb concept and barely applies.”

“Did you doubt the existence of the Divine?” Sera tilted her head, genuinely perplexed at Charlie’s confusion.

“I mean, kinda? God felt like a metaphor. It’s just… If God is someone you guys can just talk to, then why was there such confusion on how exactly people get into Heaven, if Sinners can be redeemed, what the qualifications are? Can’t you just… I dunno, ask god?” Looking back and forth between the two, Charlie knew that it couldn’t be that simple but she’d at least prefer an explanation as to why it wasn’t.

“Yeaaaaah, Doesn’t work that way kid. Not anymore.” Charlie’s dad looked remarkably uncomfortable at the topic, which was understandable. The implications of The Fall did not speak to the greatest relationship between Lucifer and God.

“The Almighty chose to… retreat from the world-” Sera paused slightly, glancing at Lucifer as he mumbled something under his breath that Charlie couldn't make out, “shortly after your father’s fall.”

“Did you know about this?” Charlie turned to Vaggie, she wasn’t trying to be accusatory, but this was kind of an intense revelation.

“W-what? No! I swear, Charlie… I… uh, never thought to ask? Adam kept the Exorcists pretty separate from Heaven, so it never really occurred to me to question anything like that until it was too late.” Vaggie explained. That made some sense. Man, the more Charlie learned from Vaggie about Exorcist life and their treatment, the more it sucked.

“For better or worse, we are on our own. Free to make our own choices… and our own mistakes. Which, I suppose, is a good enough transition. May I bring us back to the business at hand?” Sera cut in, trying to guide the Meeting back to business.

So, Charlie’s worldview was a little… fucked right now. She hadn’t exactly known what to think of the Almighty before now. Her dad really didn’t like to talk about it and the storybook she’d read about the birth of Hell had seemed to imply that his fall had been a thing between him and the other angels, not making any mention of capital G, God. Yet, apparently God had been there and maybe there was some kind of divine plan in the works after all… but also, God was gone. So there was no plan? Or was there a plan but it was just being operated remotely? How would they even know if some divine plan was actually occurring? It seemed kind of fucked up if there was a plan and God wasn’t present to just tell people what the plan was. 

For someone who'd never given a lot of thought to God's presence, the confirmation that they were living in a world that had been essentially abandoned by God was… chilling. 

It explained so much, yet it was the farthest thing from comforting that Charlie could imagine. She didn’t even know how to unpack that she, Charlie Morningstar, was only a generation removed from God . Not something that ever crossed her mind before now. The princess looked back and forth between Sera and Lucifer for a few seconds. It was clear that they had, in some form or fashion, made their peace with this information a long time ago. There was really nothing to do but accept it and move on. Sure it was something that was absolutely going to keep Charlie up at night, but that was not relevant to the current conversation. Thankfully, Sera had been willing to wait a few seconds to let Charlie process, but seeing that Charlie was ready, Sera went on with her discussion.

“After the last Extermination, given how… uniquely the situation played out,” Sera glanced from Charlie to Lucifer, clearly working very hard on how she was choosing her words. “Another trial was held to review the events and decide on further action. The Exorcist you know as Lute was made to come forward and give testimony on how the battle played out. This has led to some new decisions regarding our stance on Exterminations as a whole and the implications brought about by recent events.”

Charlie felt her heart sink. She’d known that Heaven would react poorly to them fighting back. Her father seemed weirdly impassive, simply sitting back in his chair, looking neither threatened nor even particularly interested in the conversation. Of all the times for him to check out of a conversation. It seemed like Charlie was on her own. This was what she had been preparing for afterall.

“High Seraphim… I know that the battle went poorly and we are… well not exactly sorry, but well, that is to say. I couldn’t exactly sit by and just watch Adam try to destroy the hotel. We just wanted to defend ourselves, I promise, no one wants to escalate this fight or anything like that.” Charlie began to explain, noting the looks of surprise on the faces of both Seraphim. Shit, did she already fuck up?

“Charlie, you guys didn’t do anything wrong.” Emily spoke up, Charlie was glad to see that the young Seraphim was still on her side, even in this. “I saw what they did to you and your friends. I wasn’t exactly a fan of Exterminations in the first place, but that was entirely out of line.”

“The loss of many Exorcists is regrettable, and under normal circumstances, might have incurred some amount of… reprisal, for the sake of discouragement.” Sera’s expression made it clear that she didn’t exactly agree with the ‘did nothing wrong’ sentiment of her sister. Still, the angel was going out of her way to be diplomatic, like she was stepping through a minefield. The minefield seemed to be Lucifer, given the way Sera snuck a glance at him every few words. “These, however, are not normal circumstances. The choices made by Adam have altered the situation drastically. Unfortunately, there was nothing that Emily or I could have done to stop the secondary extermination as it was in response to the death of an Exorcist by Sinner hands. However, Adam had no right to focus his attack on your hotel, it was an act driven purely by his own ego. In his foolishness, he broke the agreements made that allowed the Exterminations to begin with. He forfeited any right to his own life when he caused you direct harm, being both Hellborn and the Daughter of Lucifer, you should never have come to harm by heavenly hands.”

Charlie blinked, looked at Vaggie, who seemed equally shocked. They were going to just… get away with Adam’s death? Charlie and Vaggie had expected that Lute would have convinced Heaven to break out some special death squads or something.

“You’re… not angry? Not about to send some Heavenly army down to purge Hell? Nothing?”

“Technically speaking… we should be asking you and your father’s forgiveness.” Sera bowed her head, looking from Charlie to Lucifer, who still said nothing. “I have come to see that it was a mistake to let Adam manage the Exterminations. The Exterminations began as a purely preventative measure, one that Adam has twisted with his own ego and dogma. His actions are not representative of the greater will of Heaven and I wish to make reparations for the damage he has done.”

Was this actually happening? Charlie pinched her arm. She felt it, but maybe she was good at dreaming about pinches? Sera looked sincere, so did Emily. When she thought about it, technically Sera had a point. Charlie knew about the protection of the Hellborn, she had abused it a handful of times to distract Exorcists so Sinners could get away or so she could go out towards the end of Exterminations to help the wounded. The entire reason she had found Vaggie was because she’d already been out looking for survivors before the Exorcists even started to retreat… but in the battle, she just hadn’t thought about it. If anything, she thought her participation would have voided her protection… but an Exorcist had attacked her before she actually started fighting back, so she had self defense on her side for any action. Furthermore, Razzle’s death was an even stronger violation. The goat demon was technically a living construct, but he was still Hellborn. It seemed that Sera was operating by the letter of the law, which was one Charlie’s side for the first time ever. Bizarre. 

Admittedly, the unspoken subtext of the situation rankled Charlie. That being that if Charlie hadn’t been hurt, then this would be a very different conversation. If not for that single breach of contract, then the attack on the Hotel would have been justifiable, Adam’s death would have been an invitation for greater retaliation. The privilege and importance of Charlie’s situation was both a boon and an irritation. Why was Heaven so willing to overlook cruelty unless it explicitly broke some rule? Angry as it made her, a life in Hell had taught her to take advantage of whatever chances she was given. Alastor would practically be drooling over catching someone in a breach of contract like this. Taking a page from his book, She might as well take what she could get and thank her lucky stars for it. This was still good news, and she could use it to get her foot in the door.

“For the sake of peace between Heaven and Hell, I am willing to grant uh… forgiveness… for this event.” Charlie really needed to work on her formal speeches, this was embarrassing for a princess. “Uhm, hope this means we can work together in the future. What about you dad?”

All eyes turned to Lucifer, who hadn’t moved from his chair. Simply sitting in a relaxed position and eying Sera across the table. Still his expression didn’t look angry, just… hard to read. Charlie was much more used to her father being a goofy weirdo who took almost nothing seriously, not… whatever this was. Lucifer let them all wait in painful silence for about half a minute before he finally decided to sit up, his eyes still locked on Sera.

“Char-char, I think that before I answer that, the adults need to have a private conversation.” Lucifer said. Charlie tilted her head, looking confused.

“Uh… do you need Vaggie, Emily and I to… leave the room or-” Charlie began, but Lucifer lifted a hand and clicked his fingers a single time, making a loud and strangely resonant snap.

And then time stopped.

—

For the first time in what felt like ages, everything was turning up Lute.

It was almost concerning how easily her plan had worked. The powers that be in Heaven really had no experience with lies and deception. Not that Lute wanted to make a habit of it.

The hardest part had been swallowing her pride to call up Emily and ‘apologize’ for her outburst. Emily was all too willing to forgive and just wanted everyone to be happy and yada yada. Easy to string along. Lute knew about Sera’s issues, it wasn’t hard to realize for those who knew her. It had been Lute’s suggestion to make use of the Exorcists to act as polite little guard dogs for their time in Hell. 

Sera would be put at ease by having a few extra eyes watching the Heaven Embassy, Emily would be delighted at Lute being so cooperative and helpful, and neither would suspect Lute was using them.

The Cherub guards were easy to slip. After her impromptu performance the first night, Lute used the rest of the week to make a habit of slipping into Adam’s Mansion to practice with his guitar. That way, all she had to do was step in, put some music on blast and sneak out. No one would think to check on her for hours. Adam, in his wisdom, had installed a hidden exit to his home so that some of the women that filled his bed would have an alternate, less public exit if they felt so inclined. Perfect for Lute’s use. There had been some slight tension in picking the right Exorcists to help her. She was placing a lot of trust in her most trusted captains to not rat her out and blow the whole thing. After that had been figured out, all she needed was a borrowed helmet (her personal helmet’s face plate was still yet to be repaired anyway) and she was able to slip unnoticed into the group of Exorcists tagging alongside the two Seraphim on their trip to Hell.

Emily was new to giving commands and rather clumsy in her execution, but after the portal opened, she called the Exorcists through. The portal had led into a small staging room connected to the main audience chamber, where Lucifer would supposedly be waiting. This meeting was supposed to be between him and the Seraphim, which meant that the princess and her little band of misfits would be left without daddy’s protection for at least an hour, likely more. Lute knew Sera well enough that a contract renegotiation was not going to be a quick thing, no matter how good or bad the meeting went.

Unfortunately, of the four exorcists that had been brought along, Lute was not part of the pair that was sent to watch the downstairs. It would have made things much easier, but she could make this work. The first pair of Exorcists shot through the meeting chamber after a poorly worded order, Lute couldn’t see into the room from where she had been told to stand guard, but she overheard some voices. Maybe Lucifer had brought along some Royal demons or one of the Sins? Didn’t matter, Emily rushed off to make order of things and Sera wasn’t far behind. Once the doors closed, Lute knew that she had to make use of this chance.

“Alright, I’m off. If I’m not back in an hour, then you can alert the Seraphim.” Shedding her own helmet, Lute held her hand out to the other Exorcist. Glory hesitated, but took off her helmet, shaking out her curly hair before she handed it off to Lute. They’d discussed the details in advance. No other Exorcist would be taking the fall for Lute’s plan, whether it worked out or not. Whichever Exorcist was with Lute would pretend to have been knocked out while Lute went solo to deal with the Hotel, that way none of them would get in trouble if she didn’t come back. She would return, and everything would work out perfectly, of course… but best to be prepared. With a swift tap of her knuckles against the reinforced black glass, Lute’s superior strength left a spiderweb crack across the surface of Glory’s helmet. The other Angel took the helmet back, looking at the glitching display with concern for a few seconds before looking back to Lute.

“Ma’am… I know you’re setting up for a clean sneak, but are you really sure about this? You missing Adam is one thing but riding solo down here? Because, all told, Em’s plans ain’t a bad deal. Different sure, but we can get by.” Glory said, fiddling with the helmet in her hands and glancing nervously at the one Lute left behind on the floor.

“I’ll remind you, I was Adam’s Lieutenant for a reason. I can and will make this work and set everything back on track.” Lute flexed the fingers of her prosthetic, the angelic steel glowing softly to display how well prepared she was. It almost hid the way her other hand twitched. “But, I suppose it's for the best that I ended up on duty with you. I’ve talked to the others, they agree that you should be in charge if I don’t come back. That cooperative attitude with Emily’s plans should keep the rest of the Exorcists safe.”

Normally, the information of a potential promotion would be news to be celebrated. Glory, however, just looked sad, her eyes refusing to meet Lute’s own. “... I know you say you plan to come back, but It kinda feels like you’re just passing the buck, ma’am.”

“Glory, you know I can’t understand a word of that infernal slang of yours.” Lute lied, turning away from the other angel as she made her way to a side door. “Remember, give me at least an hour.” With that final order, Lute set off.

Lute had been in the Heaven Embassy dozens of times for the rare occasion that Adam had held meetings with Lucifer or Lilith in the past. There was no standing requirement that he hold council with either of them after every extermination, but Adam did like to gloat now and then. Such was his right. For security reasons, Lute had memorized the building’s layout decades ago, so she could make sure no Sinner or hellborn assassin had a chance to so much as spit at Adam. Now, she was using it to slip through the building unnoticed.

As the meeting between Heaven and Hell began upstairs, Lute was already slipping out a backdoor to the Embassy.

She couldn’t help the smile that came to her face as she took a deep breath of that vaguely smokey, sulfury air. Hell was a wretched and vile place, but whenever she was here she had a chance to bring Heaven’s judgment upon the wicked. Normally, that came in the form of leading an army of the righteous to cut down the damned but today was a stealth mission. She couldn’t afford to cause an incident this close to the Embassy.

It felt a shame to have to ditch her mask inside the Embassy, but it was too distinct. Quietly as she could, she slipped away from the Embassy and into a nearby alleyway. Flying across Pentagram City to the hotel would be faster and easier, but an angel flying over Pride would draw too much attention. Flying Sinners were a minority and the wings of an Exorcist were definitely something Sinners below would recognize. She needed a disguise if she was going to walk street level though. Lute’s own austerity had worked against her, she didn’t really own casual clothes, only extra sets of uniforms and some comfy pajamas. Certainly nothing that would work as a disguise.

Of course, she had planned for this. Hell was nothing if not predictable. It didn’t even take a full minute of slinking through alleyways before she found her target. She slipped behind a garbage can as a Sinner stepped into the alleyway in a fashion they probably thought was stealthy. The man was fairly average, possessed of vaguely canine features, and looked altogether rather unimpressive… that is, except for the brown trench coat and matching hat he was sporting. Lute eyed the man as he rifled through the pockets in his coat for a minute pulling out several small plastic bags filled with various powders and other substances. Classic, typical drug dealer.

Moving quietly, Lute slipped up behind the man. His canine ears twitched, registering the sound but it was too late. Lute threw her arms around his neck and mouth, muffling his cry as she dragged him back into the depths of the alleyway. He struggled, but a weak drug addicted Sinner didn’t have a chance in Hell of overpowering the top Exorcist. She flexed the muscles of her arm, increasing the pressure on his windpipe and cutting off his oxygen. Within a few short moments, the man went limp. Lute held a few more seconds to be sure he was unconscious, before dropping him unceremoniously to the pavement below.

“Too easy.” She quickly stripped him of his jacket and hat, then had to spend about a full minute pulling various bags of drugs and other oddities out of his many pockets. She only needed the jacket, not the paraphernalia. By god, he had a lot on him. Putting the hat on was… strange? She had to press her halo under the hat to hide it. Halos were odd when you actually remembered to think about them, they were fully tangible objects but they floated weightlessly above your head. Lute didn’t even notice the halo when she lay down to sleep. But actively pressing it down with the hat, she could feel the hat touching the Halo. Very weird. This is why Lute hated hats, on her and on other people. Pointless fashion accessories. Shrugging on the coat, which was a little big, but it had a belt to tighten and it covered her wings. No sense in complaining if it did the job.

Confident in her disguise, she looked down at the unconscious sinner. Flexing her claws, she raised a hand to quickly end his life but hesitated. No… no, if someone found a dead sinner this close to Heaven Embassy, it could cause a problem. Sera was already on edge just being in Hell, the slightest commotion even near the Embassy would set her off and everything would fall apart. An unconscious drug dealer in an alley though, no one would bat an eye. It wasn’t showing mercy to a Sinner, it was just her being practical.

She had bigger fish to fry. 

---

Sera felt the magic ripple through the room, twitching slightly at its presence. She didn’t have to put in any real effort to resist it, Lucifer hadn’t been trying to freeze her. She did, however, note the feeling of his magic had changed. It was still angelic in nature, but not wholly so. 10,000 years had mixed it with the demonic energy of Hells. Lucifer was notably stronger than he had been the last time they were face to face. The demonic taint of Sin that had infested his magic made her skin itch. She desperately wanted a bath, she’d have to arrange for a long soak when she returned to Heaven to free herself of even the memory of Hell’s touch.

Sera looked down at Emily, now caught in a moment in time, her expression one of confusion. Just because the girl was her sister Seraphim did not make them equals in power. Similar yes, but not equals. Emily had led a life without strife, never had a need to grow or cultivate her own power. Part of Sera was glad of this, it was quite a burden to know the terrible weight of having to choose to use that power… and yet another part of her regretted not pushing Emily, feared what may occur if the worst should happen and she wasn't prepared. Was innocence worth risking safety? That had been the question plaguing Sera’s mind every waking moment for thousands of years. Recent events seemed to imply that all that effort to maintain her sister’s innocence had caused more harm than good.

A sigh escaped her lips. Sera had assumed that this might occur, that Lucifer would want a private word between them. She steeled her nerves as she turned her attention back to Lucifer, bracing for what might come.

She wasn't prepared for what she saw.

Sera had expected agitation, indignation, or even outright rage. A contract had been broken on her watch. Contracts were sacred to Lucifer, always had been. This particular breach of contract had led to direct harm to his daughter. He had every right to be angry… So why did he look so tired? A bone deep exhaustion settled over his features as he slumped back in his chair. Sera had never seen such a look on the man. She had remembered him as a man of boundless energy and reckless creativity. Even seeing him enraged on the field of battle seemed more fitting than this.

“You seem… troubled." it was the best that Sera could do to break the silence. She'd never been good at dealing with people, especially emotional people. Such things were Emily's domain. 

“Because I kinda hoped that we could do this without having this particular conversation.” Lucifer sighed, sitting up to lean forward on the table. “Really wanted this to go quick for the sake of the girls, but we gotta address this.” he gestured vaguely between them. “We aren't going to get anywhere until we do.”

Sera's heart sank. She knew what he meant and he was right. She also had hoped to avoid this. Unfortunately,v the looming shadow of the past wasn't easily dismissed.

“I suppose… I hoped it might have been easier after all this time.” She admitted.

“10,000 years since we've seen each other in person. Humans say time heals all wounds, but I think that's a crock of shit.” Lucifer said, Sera couldn't help but laugh. A very small snort, but a laugh nonetheless. Some small fragment of her had missed his humor, even if she didn’t approve of his language. Lucifer smiled slightly, but it faded. “Look, Sera. We both said and did a lot of things in the past that we can't take back. The war was…. Well, war made monsters of us, both of us. ”

Sera sat back in her chair. A part of her wanted to refute what Lucifer said. She had been acting to protect Heaven, she had done what she thought was right… but as she had been recently reminded, ‘right’ and ‘good’ were matters of perspective. To accomplish the greater good, Sera had committed atrocities far greater than any mortal. Things that made human war crimes feel childish. Lucifer had been no different, furious at being cast out, he had started a battle that nearly pushed them both to their breaking point. Memories of that war, both what she had seen and done,  would haunt Sera for eternity.

It had taken thousands of years before even the most basic of communication had started again. Heaven and Hell may be opposite entities but they quickly found they could not operate fully independently of each other. The establishment of a dialogue had been necessary, but Sera had used it as an excuse to get Adam out of her hair (if only briefly). Thousands of years later, it was the first time they'd been in the same room together, and the shadow of that war still loomed over them both.

“It was a different time…. We were different people." she said at last

“I hope so. I really do” Lucifer shook his head, his mind was clearly as burdened as her own. “Sera. I don't think either of us have really changed our mind about the positions we took back then. Neither of us is looking to apologize or beg forgiveness… that's not going to change.”

“... No, I don't think it will.” on that they agreed. Lucifer had allowed evil to take root in the world, Sera casting him down was necessary. At the same time, Lucifer was justifiably angry at his treatment regarding a mistake that no one could have known the outcome of, save God themselves. Being forced to watch over the dregs of mankind, confined to the depths of hell, vilified for eternity. Sera could see how it had weighed on his spirit. He was so different from the brilliant, inventive, naive angel she had once known.

“That being said… It's been 10,000 damn years. That's such a long time, even for us. I'm not angry anymore, just tired. The Sins and I? We've all moved on, settled in our roles in Hell. Fuck, Satan even stopped ranting about the old war, if you can believe it. I promise you, if what you're worried about is a second rebellion, it won't be from us… we all have lives and things we care about down here, stuff we don't want to give up or endanger. The mortal souls I can't exactly account for, maybe they can convince some of the Goetia at worst, but not us.  Give you my word on that one.” 

A strange relief came over Sera, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She knew Lucifer to be a man of his word. If he said something or promised something, it was as good as true. His reputation as ‘The Deceiver’ was a mortal invention, she knew better. The anger of an honest man was far more terrible.

The potential threat of Sinners uprising was still an issue that would concern Sera, but such an event would be far more manageable without the greater powers of Hell behind it. In this, the Exterminations had done their job. The greatest and strongest of mortal Sinners had long since been laid to eternal rest. Great and terrible warriors of mankind's history had foolishly tried to resist the Exterminations at first and been dealt with. The only remaining sinners with any semblance of power were likely only a few centuries old at best, barely possessed of enough power to be a threat. A Sinner uprising wouldn't be a threat at all if not for the 500 years worth of angelic weapons dumped into Hell like so much garbage. The thought still made Sera's pin feathers itch with irritation. Knowing that the Sins had no interest in joining such a conflict was a relief. The memories of what Satan alone could do on the field of battle… Still, the worry was not entirely gone. An invading force of Sinners and Goetia could be beaten, but not without extreme casualties and damage. The threat still existed, but it was greatly diminished.

“I cannot put to words how good it is to hear you say that.”

“Believe you me, the last thing I want is another fight. Didn't even want to get involved in that Extermination mess. But…” he trailed off, face hardening. “Adam hurt my daughter… she's all I've got left.”

“I… understand.” Sera could see it, just briefly. The anger, the sadness, the fear. It had been eons since she had truly needed to use her lance but, “Were I in your place, if something had happened to Emily, I might have acted the same.”

“She seems like a good kid."

“Emily is. Insatiably curious though, sometimes I feel more like her mother than her sister.” Sera laughed, looking down at the frozen Seraphim next to her fondly.

“Don’t I know it. These kids have big ideas, gonna change the world whether we like it or not.” Lucifer noted the uncertain expression on Sera’s face, but gave her a smile. “Speaking of which. Charlie… really cares about this redemption stuff, seems like Emily does too. I know you and I have some stuff between us that we’ll never really work out… but, if you’re willing to leave all that in the past, then so am I. Better that we work together, for their sake, what do you think?”

It was getting to the point that Sera really should stop being surprised. It had been so long that even she had started to forget the person that Lucifer really was. There was still… quite a lot that Sera was worried about in regards to the future of Heaven and Hell, especially with the direction that the younger Morningstar seemed intent to push it. Yet, perhaps, working with Lucifer, guiding change rather than resisting it, it might just work out.

“I would like that, I really would… Samael.” she smiled, seeing the way he twitched slightly at the use of his old name. He recovered quickly, grinning and taking off his hat, out of which he pulled out a stack of papers.

“That's great, because I actually had a few ideas I wanted to run by you before we go back to chatting with the girls.” Lucifer grinned entirely too wide. 

Sera… might have made a mistake.

—

“Uh… do you need Vaggie, Emily and I to… leave the room or anything, because we can totally slip out and… uh” Charlie blinked several times, trailing off as she looked around the room. Her father had decided to snap his fingers for some reason and then… something happened , but she couldn’t put her finger on what. She had a feeling she had missed something? But there wasn’t anything to miss, everyone was looking at her like she was the weird one. Emily tilted her head at Charlie, confused why she stopped talking. Sera tilted her head towards Charlie, an expression of oddly amused interest like she saw Charlie do some kind of trick? Her dad was beaming at her with outright pride?? She felt a hand on her shoulder, jumping slightly, but it was just Vaggie. She must have gotten deep in her thoughts.

“You okay babe? You kind of zoned out there.” Her girlfriend looked down at Charlie with concern written across her face. Charlie wondered if there was anything to be concerned about, frowning as she took in every else’s expressions again.

“Did… no one else feel that?” she asked, noting that Emily and Vaggie only looked more confused. Meanwhile, Sera and her dad looked at each other like they were in on some joke. So something had happened when her dad snapped his fingers. Magic? Obviously, but what kind? Man, Charlie needed to do more sorcery practice. She’d been coasting on the basics for too long.

“Your daughter is surprisingly perceptive for her age.” Sera, mysterious and cryptic as ever.

“She really is, told ya she’ll be perfect for what we talked about.” Lucifer laughed, avoiding giving context the same as ever.

“I… had my doubts, but perhaps I can see the potential now. With some work, of course.” Sera looked Charlie over with a critical eye, but seemed pleased with what she saw for once.

“Is nobody going to ask what they’re talking about?” Emily cut in, much to Lucifer’s amusement. He laughed openly for a few seconds, leaving Charlie only more confused. Literally seconds ago her dad was being weirdly dour and Sera was nervous as all get out… Now they were chatting like old friends about some joke nobody else understood. Angels were fucking weird.

“Seriously though. Context? I don’t like to think you two have roped Charlie into some weird scheme without asking first… no offense.” Vaggie struggled with her need to protect Charlie and her soldier brain’s need to respect the innate authority of higher beings like The King of Hell and The High Seraphim.

“Don’t worry about it Vaggie, nothing is set yet. Something for me and Char-char to talk about when we get home. For now, back to the meeting… Where were we? Wasn’t really paying attention at the start anyway.” Waving off Vaggie’s concern in his typically flippant fashion, he turned his attention back to Sera. The High Seraphim actually seemed surprised by the question, needing a moment to think about it.

“Ah… Dear me, I quite lost my place. How embarrassing.” Sera giggled which just seemed out of place on her. Meanwhile Charlie, Vaggie, and Emily shared a look. Had they missed something? Lucifer losing track of things was pretty regular, all things considered, but Sera definitely didn’t seem the type. Not to mention, the conversation had broken off less than a minute ago. “Ah right. Forgiveness for the contract violations over the last Extermination before we discuss next steps, reforms and reparations. Charlie already gave hers.”

“Right, yeah, sure. Forgiveness granted and all that, let's get to the meat of the meeting.” Lucifer shrugged, getting comfortable in his seat.

“... The fuck is happening?” Charlie muttered, Vaggie and Emily just shrugged, equally confused. Lucifer and Sera were acting weird but this was… good? The meeting had started off like every word was stepping around landmines, but now they seemed perfectly able to work together. Like old friends honestly. Which seemed to be a good thing for this meeting turning out well. Didn’t stop the tone shift from being fucking bizarre.

“In the interest of moving this meeting along, we do need to discuss the nature of Exterminations and how they will change. I believe my sister was rather excited to share some good news on that front.” Sera was all business now, speaking formally and drawing attention towards her as she gestured for Emily to speak. 

“Huh? Oh. Oh!” the younger Seraphim was momentarily confused, still recovering from the strange behavior she had seen before she recalled what Sera was prompting her about. The girl stood up from her chair, excitedly pumping her fist as she turned a smile brighter than the sun towards Charlie.

“Charlie! You did it! Your hotel worked! A sinner got redeemed!” the Seraphim cheered, clearly unable to contain her glee.

Charlie just blinked, staring blankly at Emily. The words circled around her head several times before they managed to penetrate her thick skull and register with her brain. Even then, the brain looked at the information it had been handed and seemed reluctant to accept it. It… worked? A Sinner got… redeemed? That… that was impossible. No, what was she saying? That had been the plan! Her whole plan was to get Sinners redeemed and into Heaven! Had part of her always doubted if it would actually work? Maybe a little, but it had never stopped her! Apparently unyielding optimism paid off.

But wait… who? She had just seen everyone like an hour ago in the hotel. They certainly hadn’t done anything particularly righteous in the last day or s- “Oh my god… Sir Pentious .'' As the words left her mouth, Emily’s head bobbed up and down, confirming her thoughts with a squeak of delight.

Charlie stared down at the table in front of her for a second, letting it all really sink in. A chuckle escaped her lips, before it escalated into a mad laugh. Charlie jumped out of her seat, cheering as she grabbed the closest thing to her (A delightfully amused Vaggie) and pulled them into a crushing hug. 

“YES! Yesyesyesyes! The hotel works! Oh my god, oh my god! I’m not crazy! NOT CRAZY! AHAHAHA!!” Charlie bounced around with vaggie in her arms, before kissing the angel without concern for those watching. Some part of her brain registered Sera giving a polite cough to remind Charlie that she wasn’t alone but she hardly cared. She let go of a blushing and sputtering Vaggie as she moved back towards the table, slamming her palms on it. “Sir Pentious really got redeemed? Like, into Heaven? He’s alive and okay? Well, not alive alive, but I thought that Adam turned him into dust? I was so upset, he had been doing so much to try to better himself and and- Holy shit? It worked! It did work, right? you’re not messing with me? Please pleeease tell me you aren’t.”

“It really worked, Sir Pentious popped up right in our sitting room! Which is kinda weird, because most people go to the gates but it was good because I talked to him and that's how we learned everything about the battle. But yes, Sir Pentious is an angel now!” Emily left her chair, taking Charlie’s hands. The bouncy angel was a match for Charlie’s energy at the moment, the pair grinning at each other and bouncing in place like happy little idiots. “If one sinner can be redeemed, so can others! Whatever you did worked Charlie!”

Relief, joy, and many other emotions fought for space in Charlie’s head. The loss of Sir Pentious in the battle for the hotel had weighed heavily on her heart for so long. She’d felt that she was like some cruel overlord, tricking people with hope while only leading them further into danger, that his death was on her hands… and in ways it still was, there was still danger but there was hope at the end of the tunnel now. This changed everything, for everyone! Her dream was real, everything she’d done was finally worth it… if only her mother could see her now. Would she be proud? Charlie liked to think she would.

Taking a breath to steady herself, she looked from Emily to Sera, a question coming to her mind.

“Can we… see Sir Pentious?” Charlie wanted to take them at their word, knew they didn’t exactly have a reason to lie, but sometimes you needed to see something to believe it.

“Uhm… well.” The question took the elder Seraphim off guard. She looked like she wanted to refuse, but her face went through several emotions. “I… don’t actually know. Sinners cannot use portals to Heaven without great magical power, but well, I do not believe a Heavenbound soul has ever tried to descend to Hell.”

“Don’t look at me, this is new territory entirely.” Lucifer said with an unhelpful shrug “doesn’t hurt to try… probably. Maybe keep the portal open?”

Sera looked skeptical, but when she saw the wide eyed pleading faces of Charlie and Emily she sighed. Hesitating, she made a small gesture, a golden, glimmering portal formed in the room. Everyone held their breath for a moment before a very confused snakeman plopped out of it in a heap. He shot up, turning around for a few moments before lifting a set of welding goggles off his eyes and blinking rapidly.

“Hah? Who? Where am I?” he asked, even if he looked slightly different in his new pastel color scheme, Charlie would recognize that voice anywhere. Unable to contain herself, with a running leap Charlie threw herself at the redeemed Sinner and hugged him. She wanted to speak but couldn’t bring herself to, only able to manage inarticulate sobbing. Sir Pentious blinked rapidly, stiffening as he was still rather unused to being hugged, but upon recognizing who had glomped him, a smile spread across his face, eyes watering as he began to cry as well. “Missss Charlie! I feared I might never ssee you again!”

“I th-th-thought you d-d-diiiiiied.” Charlie managed between sobs, squeezing the snake within an inch of him cracking. Surprisingly he didn’t seem to mind.

 “Seriously, thought Adam dusted you.” Vaggie chuckled, stepping over to give a pat on the snake’s shoulder. She wasn’t nearly as touchy feely as her girlfriend, but it was clear she was happy to see the snake. Gently, she pried her Charlie off the snake, allowing him to breathe. The hyper emotional princess koala’d onto Vaggie instead, giving small sobs about how much she missed Pentious. 

“Phew, quite the ah… grip, Missss Charlie.” Sir Pentious had to take a second to catch his breath, he clearly didn’t mind the affection but he wasn’t exactly built to withstand the super powered hugs of a crying hell princess. That was what Vaggie was best at. He straightened, trying to look somewhat formal and respectable, as was his habit to try. Success was a 50/50 game with him. “Yesss, I ssusspected my eternal demisse at Adam’ss hand, yet ssurprissingly found myself in… Angelic company. They have been mosst accommodating. Very kind.”

Charlie took a long breath, along with an undignified snort to clear the snot from her face as she worked to regain her composure, but she couldn’t get the smile off her face. “You… What you did was so brave, Sir Pentious. I-i never got to tell you that.When we saw you take the airship up… I…” Charlie covered her mouth, her heart panged with pain at the memory, threatening to break out into tears again. Even if he was revived and infront of her again, the memory of losing one of her friends was so crushingly painful.

“I ssimply did what I thought wass right.” smiling warmly, Sir Pentious placed his hand on Charlie’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze “Even if it did not amount to much, sseeing my friendss ssurvived the battle made it worth it.”

“We… we have to take you back to the hotel! Show everyone. Redemption works, I still can’t believe it. We have to go like, right now!” Charlie was halfway to dragging an amused yet befuddled Sir Pentious towards the elevator when Lucifer spoke up to interrupt her. 

“Charlie, I’m sure all your little friends would love to see Hisses here, but well… don’t think it's a good idea. Didn’t want to say anything to ruin the moment, but you should prooobably look at his tail.” Lucifer said, a slight look of concern on his face.

All eyes, including Sir Pentious’ own, turned down to look at the tip of his tail. In his new, angelic appearance, Sir Pentious’ body and clothes had taken on a lighter color scheme, more fitting with the aesthetics of heaven. His tail had turned from a dark black to a soft grey color…. Yet the last inch or so had returned to its former color, almost making it look like he had burned the tip. Confused, he lifted the tail so it was easier to inspect. 

 “It… it’s spreading!” Charlie gasped as she got in close. It was hard to see unless you squinted, but sure enough, the blackness was spreading over his scales. Charlie was even sure she could hear a faint sizzling sound, like frying bacon as the blackness slowly worked over his scales. “A-are you okay, Sir Pentious?”

 “I… feel fine?” the redeemed sinner tapped his claws against the blacked scales curiously. He certainly didn’t seem to be in any pain.

There was a faint fluttering of wings before the shadow of Sera’s form loomed over them. Her face was a mask of confusion as she peered at the strange black infection. She reached out to touch it, pausing briefly to look to Sir Pentious for permission, only reaching forward to touch the tail when he gave her a small nod. She experimentally poked at the scales herself, feeling for any difference between the black and gray scales before she frowned.

“It seems as though… Hell is trying to reclaim your soul? Very slowly, but I can feel Hell’s energy pushing into your form. How… bizarre.” she murmured, still inspecting it. Wordlessly, Lucifer stepped over, looking at the tail, then bobbing his head side to side as he seemed to do some mental math.

“Looks like she’s right. Would probably take about… five minutes, 30 seconds to spread entirely. Probably doesn’t help being this close to Charlie and I, powerful demons and yada yada.” he explained with a shrug before looking to Sera, who nodded to confirm his assessment. Charlie found it odd how her father could perform complex, theoretical math so quickly but struggled to remember how a coffee maker functioned. “His soul has been in Hell for a long time, I guess exposure to Hell’s energy so soon isn’t good for him staying an angel.”

“Do… do we cut it off?” Vaggie asked, offering up her spear to do the job.

“We sshall not! I am not ssome Iguana, it doessn’t jusst grow back… I don’t think. Sstill, principal of the thing, Missss Vagatha.” Sir Pentious hissed, using a claw to push the spear away from him. Vaggie frowned at the incorrect name, but didn’t bother wasting time on corrections.

“Nah, open wounds might make it worse. Can you reverse it Sera?” he asked, to which the Seraphim frowned in concentration before nodding.

Still holding onto Sir Pentious’ tail, Sera closed her eyes. Her brow furrowed with effort as an aura of warmth spread around her. Lucifer took a step or two back at the feeling, and Charlie had to admit that it made her skin…. Kind of itch? Concentrated holy energy? A little disheartening that Charlie’s body seemed to innately reject it. Nonetheless, it seemed to do its job. Nothing happened at first, but after a few seconds, the blackness began to recede until Sir Pentious’ tail was completely returned to its heavenly coloration. Sir Pentious wiggled the tail a bit, before giving a thumbs up that all seemed fine. Sera gave a sigh, relaxing her body as she let go. Her expression was troubled, but less so when she saw that her efforts had worked.

“That took more energy than I expected it to. This… quirk in regard to the Redeemed in the presence of Hellish energy will need further study, but for now, I believe it would be ill advised for Sir Pentious to remain in Hell much longer.” she explained, gesturing to the portal that was still in the room.

“Oh… I wanted him to see the rebuilt Hotel.” Charlie sighed, looking up at Sera. the Seraphim gave her a pitying expression, but they both knew Sera was right. It wouldn’t do to pout. She turned to Sir Pentious and tried to offer him a smile. “Well… I’m sorry you couldn’t stay longer, but I am… so, so happy I got to see you. I am so proud of you Sir Pentious. You really changed, I knew you could, knew you’d come so far with your time at the hotel. I hated that I never got a chance to say that before now.”

“Thank you Missss Charlie, for everything.” Sir Pentious managed, choked up at Charlie’s words. “I regret that I musst leave… again. I do hope you will give my regardss to my dear Missss Cherri Bomb… and everyone elsse… my regardss to Everyone! Equally!... but more Equally to Missss Cherri, if you pleasse.” the snake fumbled, and Charlie smiled warmly. She had missed his fumbling antics more than she thought. She held her hands out for a last hug, giving him a less bone crushing squeeze before he turned back to the portal. With a last look over his shoulder and small wave, he slipped back through and it closed behind him.

Charlie sighed, watching him go. It hurt to see him go again, knowing that she might not get a chance to see him again. She wasn’t exactly sure where she stood in regards to visiting Heaven without some meeting arranged through her father. Would Heaven allow her casual visitation? More importantly… This was part of redemption that Charlie hadn’t really considered. To be honest, she hadn’t considered a lot of the long term implications of her plan, she was more focused on the ‘making step 1 work’ bit. 

Now though… if this worked, and continued to work, she was going to have to say goodbye to her friends in the hotel. One by one, they would leave her. It would be to a better life in Heaven, and she would still have Vaggie by her side… still, it was a bittersweet pill to swallow. She loved all her friends so deeply, letting them go wouldn’t be easy. It was for the best… Still, the reality of it was that she would likely get to know many sinners but they would be temporary visitors on their way to Heaven. That had been the idea, it was a Hotel after all. Charlie didn’t often think about the span of eternity she was primed to live through, even with Vaggie by her side, the prospect seemed a little… lonely.  A slight tug at her sleeve pulled Charlie from her internal thoughts, seeing that Vaggie was leading her back to the table. They were still in the middle of a meeting. No time to dwell on these thoughts.

“Redemption works, maybe more complicated than I thought, but as long as the, uh, new arrivals stay in Heaven it should work out right? This … this changes things, doesn’t it? Like it really changes things.” Charlie asked as she lowered herself back into her chair. She saw Sera nod, the angel looked like she wanted to speak but maybe Charlie was feeling a little bold coming off this revelation. “Because Redemption works, that means you are going to stop the Exterminations, right?”

Emily nodded enthusiastically at Charlie’s question.

Sera… didn’t.

“That means you’re going to stop the Exterminations, Right? ” a growl rose in her throat as she repeated the words, Charlie making burning eye contact with the elder Seraphim. She hardly seemed daunted by Charlie’s anger, if anything, she only seemed solemn due to the frown that Emily was giving her.

“Sera… we talked about this-” Emily began, but Sera held up a hand to stop her.

“Please. Both of you, just let me speak.” Sera asked, looking from her sister to Charlie. Charlie didn’t feel so inclined, but knew this meeting would only devolve into a shouting match if she got angry now. No need for that yet. Begrudgingly, Charlie relaxed into her seat and gestured for Sera to continue. “Thank you. I originally started the Exterminations due to the fact that Hell’s Pride ring was suffering an overpopulation crisis and I held… reasonable fear of demonic uprising against Heaven. Lucifer has done his part to assuage some of my fears, and given that it has been proven that Sinners can be redeemed… My decision of Extermination was not precisely ethical. Unfortunately, this does not address the Overpopulation issue and due to Adam’s poor leadership, Hell is flush with Angelic metal for weapons that can be used against Heaven. The Sinner population still remains a threat that needs to be managed.”

“But we can manage it , that’s what the Hotel is for! We just proved it works!” Charlie cut in, resisting the urge to scratch the finely made marble table. Not getting emotional during political or business negotiations was, like, rule one of not screwing things up; yet it seemed like they were talking in circles! “We can redeem Sinners and they get to go with Heaven, where you guys can manage a big population! It's the sky, you’re not exactly short on real estate or anything!”

“Charlie, please. I understand your frustration-” Sera began, but Charlie cut her off.

“Frustration? Frustration!? I’m trying to stop genocide! These Sinners might not be great people, but they’re my people! Someone has to care about them!” Charlie roared, actually surprising herself with the outburst. Before she’d never get so agitated over this, she’d always cared about the cause but she just wasn’t confrontational by nature… the last 6 months of dealing with Heaven’s bullshit had really changed her it seemed. She was so focused on staring down Sera that she missed the look of pride her father gave her, all Charlie could see was Sera right now. The High Seraphim just sighed, but held up her hands in a placating gesture.

“You have a point, Miss Morningstar. I will not deny that. Let's put it this way, I will ask you several questions. If you provide me satisfying answers, then I will look into permanent cessation of the Exterminations. If not, then we will still work together for a less extreme solution. Is this fair?” 

“... Fine.” Charlie squinted at the Seraphim as she slowly sat down, wondering what Sera was playing at.

“First question. Do you know the exact methods of and requirements for redemption?” Sera asked, looking at Charlie expectantly.

“Well, uh, I mean… obviously something I did worked with Sir Pentious. I taught him the value of saying sorry and working on improving as a person. We did all kinds of trust exercises, talked about our feelings, and built bonds with others? I mean, honestly, the noble sacrifice was likely what pushed him over the edge. Point is, he made the choice to change his ways and he grew as a person. Heaven or God or whatever must have recognized that.” Charlie rambled, she didn’t know the exact things that had checked the boxes, but clearly it had worked, so why did it matter? Nobody knew exactly what got you into Heaven anyway, it didn't seem that odd that the requirements for redemption were similarly obscure so long as it worked.

“I see, thus far, our best theory is that if a Sinner genuinely changes their ways, and then dies a second death, they might ascend to Heaven?” Sera’s expression did not change, only staring Charlie down with the expectation of answers.

“Well, maybe? I mean, we don’t exactly know if ‘second death’ was a factor. Might explain why Sir Pentious didn’t ascend until he died.” Charlie wasn’t exactly sure she liked where this might be going.

“Is this a theory you are willing to test?” Sera lifted a hand, a flash of golden light making an angelic weapon appear in her hand. A simply designed dagger, more of a letter opener really. It looked deceptively harmless, yet Charlie could feel the vague hum of heavenly energy within the blade. Sera offered it to Charlie with an expectant look.

Charlie reached her hand forward for a second, but hesitated. Was this something she could even consider testing? There was really only one person that was even up for redemption really, Angel Dust. Charlie looked at the blade, chewing her lip in thought. Angel Dust had really changed and improved as a person, part of her heart knew that he could be worthy of redemption… but was he there yet? Could he even be redeemed while Valentino still held his soul under contract? Even If that wasn’t in the way, could Charlie risk… killing him on the vague hope that he might wake up in Heaven? There wasn’t any going back if she messed that up. Losing Sir Pentious (even if it wasn’t forever) had left a terrible weight on her shoulders from getting a person she cared about involved in a situation that got them killed. That had been bad enough… but holding the blade herself? To test a theory? She couldn’t stomach it.

Charlie’s hand dropped weakly as she turned her head away from the offered knife. Thankfully, Sera didn’t belabor the point, dismissing the blade with a flick of her wrist and no further commentary.

“Next question. Do you think every Sinner can be redeemed? I need not remind you of the cruel nature of some sinners.” Sera asked, Charlie tried to reclaim her former confidence. She wanted to shout a quick ‘Yes!’ but her heart wasn’t entirely behind the answer. She had once said that inside every demon was a rainbow… but that was before she had met certain people like Valentino. She wanted to believe in the good in people, but she knew now that to be good was a choice and not always an easy one. There were plenty of people in Hell that would refuse to give up power, who would snub redemption even if they had proof it worked. Some people didn’t want to change, Charlie couldn’t pretend that wasn’t true.

“I… I believe that if a person chooses to change, they can. If they ask for my help, then I am willing to help them. No matter what they’ve done.” That answer felt closer to the truth, and Sera seemed to accept it.

“Acceptable answer, but it implies that you suspect that some may not choose to change their ways.” Sera had read between the lines of her answer all too well. Charlie just nodded solemnly. “Likely, many Overlords will be unwilling to give up their power and bound souls. You agree?”

“Yup” Charlie popped the p, then sighed. A lot of sinners were addicted to power, and it wasn’t exactly an easy thing for them to give up. She had been trying to work up towards having a long talk with Alastor about Husk and Nifty’s souls, but she had a feeling they hadn’t exactly gotten to that part yet. Alastor was an enigma and more of a long term project. Like a classic car in a garage you planned to fix eventually. Eventually would come some day, she was sure.

“Do you suspect that, if you do figure out the method of redemption, that it will be a process that is reliably repeatable and efficient?” Sera asked

“Repeatable, yes, definitely. Efficient, probably not? Personal change is kind of a journey and it likely won’t be the same for everyone.” Charlie answered. She knew some people with a long, long path to redemption.

“Last question. Do you think it would be possible to convince Hell’s population to give up the stockpile of dangerous angelic metal and weaponry that has accumulated due to Adam’s negligence?” Sera asked

“... Uh no… probably not.” Charlie hadn’t exactly paid much attention to the internal politics of Hell, but even she knew that while Angelic metal was rare, people like Carmilla Carmine had built a business empire off it. A business that had spread such weapons to every layer of Hell. Every major Overlord was suspected of having a small arsenal of scavenged or Carmine made Angelic weapons… and that was before it was found out the weapons could be used against angels. The desire for the weapons was bound to go up dramatically. Charlie was starting to see the unfortunate shape of this conversation. 

“I see.” Sera sighed, at least she didn’t seem to be taking any more pleasure in this topic than Charlie was. “Charlie, based on what you’ve told me, I cannot in good faith completely bring an end to the Exterminations. Your care for your people is a truly admirable thing, but the fact remains that some people are in Hell for good reason. Some reasons may be less severe, and even hard cases may make real changes given opportunity and time; however, there are some that are cruel to their core and will refuse change. Especially if that change comes at the cost of power that they have cultivated. Hell’s population grows at a rapid rate, and without some method of population control, it may grow out of hand. Angry and disgruntled Sinners may turn their eyes toward Heaven, and while I have been assured they will have no assistance from the Sins, the fact that they are armored with angelic weaponry makes them a very tangible threat. Thus far, Extermination still seems the best way to manage Hell’s population-”

Sera explained this all dispassionately, and Charlie slid further and further into her seat. She really had no tangible arguments against this. She had really thought that things might change, given all that happened.

“But, that doesn’t mean we can’t make changes” Sera said, a slight smile on her face when she saw Charlie perk up at her words.

“What kind of changes?” Charlie asked cautiously.

“Firstly, your redemption plan may still be experimental, but it does have potential. What you need is time to learn from your successes and failures, figure out the mechanics of redemption and how to make it a viable method of population control. Time is something we are more than willing to give. After the events at the Hotel, the Exorcist army is in need of having its ranks replenished and retrained under new, more effective management. I will be canceling the upcoming Extermination that would have happened in five months, as well as return to the yearly schedule rather than Adam’s six month plan. This gives you nearly a year and a half to work on your Hotel and experiment with redemption. If, at the end of this period, you show promising results, then that will be a major factor when we renegotiate the terms of the Exterminations. Perhaps we will be able to move away from population culls to more targeted attacks on known dangerous Sinners. How does that sound?” Sera offered.

Charlie considered what Sera was putting on the table. She would have much preferred that the Exterminations simply be stopped entirely, but Sera had made some points she couldn’t exactly argue. Sera’s terms were, in truth, extremely reasonable. Generous even. Still, it placed a lot of weight on Charlie making the Hotel work. Either way, Exterminations would likely still be a factor, which didn’t settle easily in her stomach. There was a certain amount of making Charlie choose between the lesser of two evils. Speaking of putting weight on Charlie, it wasn’t lost on the princess that Sera was offering these terms to her rather than addressing them to Lucifer. He was king here, yet Sera was placing the decision in Charlie’s lap. She’s been princess for over 200 years, but this was the first time that someone had acknowledged the political power of that position.

She looked to her father, who seemed to sense her hesitation on the subject.

“It might not be the deal you want, but it's a pretty good one. Contract negotiation is about meeting people halfway and finding what works best for all parties involved.” he said, giving her an encouraging look.

Charlie chewed her lip a little, thinking. He was right, this was negotiation. She could try to leverage things in her favor a bit. There was room for Charlie to add her own terms. Charlie looked back to Sera, gathering her courage. If she was going to be pushed to take charge here, she might as well commit.

“I want a promise of exemption from Exterminations, whatever form they end up taking, for Sinners trying for redemption in the hotel or affiliated facilities, as an added incentive to get Sinners to join the Hotel. Same protections as the Hellborn, promises of punishment for any violations.” Charlie pitched her idea, regaining her earlier confidence to face down the High Seraphim.

“Hmm… We would have to make it so that Sinners affiliated with the Hotel are easily identified, or must stay in lockdown in the Hotel for the duration of Exterminations, but such details can be saved for final negotiations at the end of next year. These are acceptable terms. Do we have a deal?” Sera nodded, extending her hand across the table. 

Charlie looked at the hand with a small touch of skepticism. She was uncomfortably reminded of the deal she made with Alastor. Deals made with powerful beings such as her and the Seraphim were soul binding. Every deal she made had to be something she considered deeply. The last one had been necessary to get the information and help needed to save the Hotel (a very, very small part of her resented Alastor just a teeny tiny, itty bitty bit for forcing her to make a deal rather than just helping her like a good friend ). This deal was equally necessary, it would be the first step to changing Hell for the better and giving her a real chance to make redemption possible. A glance at her dad saw an approving nod, but she knew that the decision and responsibility of it was ultimately hers.

“Deal.” Charlie held out  her hand, naturally feeling her body shift to its more demonic state as she extended her hand and gripped Sera’s. The Seraphim’s body shifted, her heavenly aura growing more intense as many eyes opened across her angelic form. As they shook, a wave of Hellish and Heavenly energy clashed, rolling through the room and the building itself in a flash that was likely seen across Pride. The wave of energy was tangible, ruffling Emily’s feathers and making Vaggie stumble back a step. The clashing energy finally mingled, coming together and condensing into a set of glowing golden manacles that bound both her and Sera’s hands. Deep in her heart, Charlie’s soul thrummed as the binds of the agreement were set in stone. Understanding filled her.

Charlie was bound by the year and a half time limit to see if she could produce results. She was not allowed any form of extensions. Sera was likewise bound to keep to the terms she had offered and must keep negotiations in good faith. Any attempt to subvert or cheat these terms would go badly for either of them.

As the manacles faded away and their hands came apart, Charlie sagged where she stood, suddenly exhausted. Vaggie was quick to catch her before she hit the floor and helped Charlie back into her chair. Sealing the deal with Alastor had taken a bit of energy at the time, but forging the same contractual bonds on the soul of someone like Sera had nearly drained Charlie, leaving her feeling lightheaded. Sera seemed entirely unaffected, relaxing her angelic features and taking a second to fuss over Emily’s ruffled state before she seated herself again.

“I am glad that we were able to come to a satisfying agreement, I look forward to working with you in the future Miss Morningstar.” Sera gave a polite bow of her head.

“Uh huh.” Charlie managed, blinking stars out of her vision. “So, does that mean this meeting is over?”

“Oh… no, not in the least. We’ve yet to go through the paperwork!” Sera sounded, oddly excited? She waved her hand, golden magic manifested into stacks and stacks of neatly arranged paperwork. Even at a glance, Charlie could see each page was densely packed with small script dense legalese. “We have to go over all the exact breaches of the former Extermination contract, discuss and negotiate appropriate compensation, and get a written transcription of the terms of our temporary deal. Write out drafts of future contracts, revisit and renegotiate at least a dozen minor agreements that govern things such as portal use, upkeep of the embassy and other things of that nature. It's important to have everything in print and this is my first opportunity in thousands of years to do this in person. Adam despised paperwork and rather allowed it to pile up over time.”

“Oh no…” Vaggie mumbled.

“Uuugh, Seraaaa.” Emily whined, slumping in her seat.

“... What did I do to deserve this?” Charlie asked.

Sera tilted her head, confused by the girls’ combined reaction to something that she seemed rather excited for. Of course, Sera would be the kind that actually liked paperwork. Thankfully, her dad was there to save the day.

“Hey Sera, I think the girls have had enough for today. You like paperwork, and I like my contracts nice and precise. Since we are going to be at this for a few hours, why don’t we let Charlie and Vaggie take Emily here to go see the hotel? We just finished renovations, some of my best work in a thousand years.” he offered with a chuckle.

“Oh, oh! Please Sera?! Can I?” Emily seemed thrilled at the idea, rapidly bouncing in her seat like a hyperactive squeaky toy.

“I… I am not sure. Going out into Hell?” Sera was distinctly not thrilled at the idea, glancing around at all involved.

“Don’t worry so much, Emily’s a Seraph. Automatically makes her like… top five strongest thing in this Ring. She’s with Charlie, not even Paimon will give her a second glance. If Sinners get feisty, Vaggie’s quick with the stabby stabby.” Lucifer brushed off Sera’s concern with a wave.

“I’ll be super careful, I promise! Fly right back to the Embassy as soon as anything goes wrong. Pleeeeeease??” Emily gave the biggest, cutest, most sparkly puppy dog eyes Charlie had ever seen. Even Vaggie seemed swayed at the girl’s pleading. Though she didn’t say anything about it, Charlie was well aware of Vaggie’s slight spikes of jealousy towards the young Seraphim. Charlie loved Vaggie more than anything, Charlie only saw Emily as a potential friend and nothing more… That being said, her girlfriend being extra clingy when she was feeling ‘territorial’ wasn’t the worst thing. 

“I… suppose… It will be okay. As long as it is a short trip” Sera reluctantly gave in, still clearly very worried. A smile came back to her face when her sister gave a squeal of delight, tackling the elder Seraph with a big hug.

All too soon, the excitable Seraphim was practically dragging Charlie and Vaggie towards the elevators to get out of the Embassy. Charlie had kind of been volunteered for the job of showing Emily around, but it saved her from paperwork. Besides, it was just a trip to the hotel and back, what could possibly go wrong?

Chapter Text

“God forsaken devil sorcery.” 

They had rebuilt their tacky hotel, made it bigger and grander than before. A physical embodiment of demonic arrogance and defiance of Heaven's will… but it had only been a month? Lute had been expecting to find an ongoing construction site, not a colossal neon monolith. The place made the previous structure seem downright small, you could see it sparkling from halfway across Pentagram City. It could only have been made through Lucifer's own dark powers.

The new building was actually rather elegant in its design, If Lute was feeling generous. Modern and extravagant. If you liked Hellish architecture anyway. Lute didn't. Not one bit. This was a monument to arrogance, a glowing middle finger aimed directly at Heaven. It was even emblazoned with a massive apple, the Devil himself showing off the symbol of the first sin. The fools didn’t even build any kind of fortifications, Lute could just walk up off the damn street. You’d think people who had been assaulted once would at least build a wall. The arrogance of it. It would have to be ground down to rubble after she hunted down Charlie and Vaggie. Brick by infernal brick. 

Tugging her stolen coat tighter, Lute began her march towards the double doors. Ringed with layers of flashing lights as they were, the building was practically inviting her in. She paused only to take in the statue in front of the building. A recreation of the demonic dragon she had slain. Oddly, though it should have brought her a swell of pride and amusement, she felt a strange mix of emotions tug at her stomach. It hadn't been a satisfying kill, the creature was no true dragon like those spoken of in tales of the old war, it just resembled one. Had only taken a single hit to fell the creature, which had led directly to Lute's first real loss against Vaggie. Her arm ached with phantom pain.

Maybe if she found and killed the other goat dragon it would make her feel better.

The front doors were unlocked (stupid, naive demons), so Lute quietly eased the doors open to avoid notice. She managed to catch the tail end of a conversation happening between two sinners in the lobby.

“Fuuuuck Angie, can you leave off with that sales pitch? I'm only hanging around as long as Princessi lets me crash rent free. Not about to crawl on ‘Redemption Road’ like you guys.” Spoke the first Sinner, Lute recognized her from the battle. Cyclops, trashy appearance, big hair. Not a threatening fighter on her own, but the bombs she slung around were troublesome.

“Sure sure, I believe ya. Definitely never heard that before,” laughed the second Sinner, who was using his impressive height to peel some strips of masking tape off the wall. They must've recently finished painting the lobby. Lute ground her teeth at the sight of this particular abomination. The slutty spider they watched in the first trial. Crackhead pornstar. She couldn’t understand the appeal, why would people pay to watch smut of that thing?… actually, now that she thought about it, how did Adam know that Sinner was a porn star? It wasn’t like they kept a registry of famous Sinners or anything. Whatever. Not important. Focus on the combat relevant details. Quick and flexible in combat but not strong. Relies on guns. Should be easy to break. “Ya know, if you're spending all day here, ain't ya worried about your territory?”

“Well, ya know, haven't had a real challenge recently Since Sir P bit it, people ‘round here ain't as interesting… I mean, it's just not really as fun these days.” the cyclops mumbled with a noncommittal shrug. “Besides, the new rooms sure beat out the old apartment.”

The Sinner turned to look at a large portrait hung on the wall, depicting what Lute thought was an over dignified depiction of that ‘redeemed’ Sinner. The snake from the trial, the one that somehow tricked everyone into thinking they entered Heaven fairly. It was a bit odd that they chose to waste such effort on memorializing him when they must have been involved in his false ascension. Maybe some kind of grand honor for their beloved spy? The cyclops turned away just as quickly, a strange expression on her face. Was there something between the two of them? Disgusting. Unfortunately, the Cyclops avoiding looking at the painting drew her attention to Lute hiding in the doorway.

“Oh shit? ‘Ey Angie! Looks like you guys got a customer!” She said with a laugh.

“Huh? That's weird, we ain't openin’ for a week? Ah, who- Oh, if ya dealin’, then boss lady doesn't want us buyin’ at the hotel. Maybe later tho.” The blasphemously nicknamed ‘Angel’ turned away from what he was hanging, looking down at Lute. Because all Sinners were morons, the coat and pulled down cap had fooled him into seeing her as yet another dealer. A mistake he would soon regret.

“I am looking for Miss Morningstar and her… consort, Vaggie. Tell me where to find them.” Killing these two would be quick and easy, but dealing with the Princess and her Fallen Angel was going to take a lot of energy. As much as tearing Hell a new asshole sounded appealing, time was a factor. Stealing an outfit and walking here had wasted 15 minutes, which meant she only had 45 minutes to fight and get back before Glory was set to raise the alarm.

“Oh? Charlie? She and Vags went out for a meeting with her dad. Important Hell stuff or whatever. Out for a while.” Angeldust shrugged. Lute's hands tightened to fists. They were at the meeting? How could Lute have missed- shit. The voices when those Exorcists charged into the room. That must have been Charlie and Vaggie, not royal demons. Fuck. She'd gotten too excited and hadn't paid attention, everything was going to shit. The Sinner continued on, not noticing Lute's growing agitation. “Plenty a’ chairs in the lobby if ya wanna sit and wait. Might be a bit tho, Husk’s bar should be stocked if ya wanna grab a drink.”

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Lute didn't have time to wait! The plan had been to slip out, kill Vaggie and her demon bitch, then slip back before Glory had to set off the alarm. It was the only way to get back to Heaven. Besides, if she waited until the meeting was over, then Lucifer would be coming back with Charlie and Vaggie. Lute was many things, but delusional enough to think she could solo Lucifer Morningstar was not one of them. This plan was unsalvageable.

Fuck it, new plan.

If she couldn't get her hands on the princess, then she would settle for burning down the Hotel and killing everyone inside it.

“Actually,” Lute began, pulling off her hat to reveal her black halo. She reveled in the dawning looks of surprise and recognition on the faces of the two sinners. Shrugging off the coat, she extended her wings fully. Divine punishment has come to claim these damned souls. “I was hoping you two could entertain me.”

“The fuck?! What's a bloody Exorcist doing here?” The cyclops was, to her credit, quick on the uptake. She braced herself for combat, drawing a bomb from… somewhere? Did the demon just carry explosives at all times?

“Holy Shit, Cherri, that's Adam's bitch!” Angeldust at least had the common courtesy to recognize Lute. However, for the blaspheme and the derogatory reduction of her character, Lute was going to hurt him first. Seriously, ‘Lute’ was not that hard to remember.

Not giving the Sinners time to act first, a pump of her wings had her across the room in barely a second. Closing in on the spider Sinner, she twisted her body mid air to throw all the momentum of her sudden movement into a fist to his gut. A rather small target considering the Sinner’s whorishly thin waist, but it had the effect she wanted. Possessing the structural integrity of cardboard, the tall Sinner folded around Lute's fist with a cry of pain that Lute found delightful.

Landing and setting her feet, she twisted to push the follow through of her punch into throwing Angel Dust. Being rail thin and rather light for his size, he flew beautifully across the room and slammed into the wall with a lovely thud. 

Oh man, that felt good. The slight sting of her knuckles, the burn as her muscles finally got the workout they craved. The bubbling, tingling thrill as adrenaline began to creep into her system. Since her creation, Lute had never felt more right than when she was in the middle of the fight. Exterminations had been her one chance a year to really cut loose and indulge in the pure freedom that combat offered. When she was fighting, everything else slipped away. Responsibility, paperwork, unresolved and repressed emotions. The world made sense when she could beat it into submission.

Sensing motion behind her, Lute found the bomber on the move. She was closing in with a switchblade, a rather pathetic weapon for close quarters, but they both knew Lute was in too close for that bomb. There was a momentary temptation to just let the blade hit her and trust in her angelic immunity, but she trusted her instincts instead and jumped away. A good thing too, the blade barely tagged one of her wings, cutting off the tip of a feather with an arc of light as it passed. Of course, these demons were still kitted out with angelic steel from the battle. This was a battle that Lute might actually get hurt in.

Good, she needed a challenge.

Closing back in, as it was better to keep the bomber in melee, Lute brought up her fists for a close quarters brawl. The cyclops, Cherri as the other sinner called her, seemed down for a scrap. She even smiled. 

Immediately, Cherri started throwing a flurry of jabs and punches, alternating to work in a quick slash with the blade whenever she thought she could get Lute off guard. They were fairly easy to dodge or block, Lute making use of her prosthetic as an impromptu shield against the angelic blade. This Sinner had experience in fighting, but lacked real skill or refinement. She was a chaotic brawler, all too eager to jump on any opportunity she could find. Very easy to bait. Lute wound up for a swinging right hook, slow and telegraphed, easy to dodge. Predictably, Cherri stepped to the side, moving to get in a counter blow at the cost of opening herself up in the process. A mistake she would pay for. Fast as lightning, Lute brought her metallic hand down on the Sinner's wrist, making Cherri cry out in pain and drop her switchblade. Disarmed, the Sinner was hardly a threat. Still, she tried her best.

Recovering quickly, Cherri made use of the little space she had gained. Turning in place, the Sinner executed a surprisingly perfect spinning roundhouse kick. Her strong leg coming around high and actually surprising Lute. Cherri’s leg connected with the side of the angel's head with a mighty Thwack as the force of it pushed Lute's head to the side… and that's all it did.

Lute, who felt no pain in the slightest, raised an eyebrow at the sheepishly grinning Sinner.

“Got caught up in the moment and forgot?” Lute asked. Even Lute had to admit, it had been a perfectly executed maneuver. She was almost impressed.  On anyone else it might have been a successful knockout. However, no mundane blow or weapon raised by unholy hands could harm an angel. Such was the way of the world. Exorcists were custom made to kill Sinners and as such, no Sinner could possibly harm them.

“Yeeeeah…” Cherri admitted, moving to pull her leg back, but Lute wrapped her hands around the Sinner's shin and thigh. “Call it a draw?”

“No.” Lute answered, turning her body and spinning the unfortunate bomber by the leg. Upon release, Cherri flew across the wide room and crash landed into a potted plant in the corner, making a mess of dirt and chunks of ceramic. The sinner raised a shaky hand, giving a middle finger. Tenacious little fighter, wasn’t she?

If this girl wanted to die a warrior’s death, then that was the least Lute could provide. Flexing her claws, she moved to step towards the Sinner but she wouldn't get the chance. The crack of gunfire ignited her instincts, making her drive for the floor as a hail of bullets rained from behind her. She managed to kick over a coffee table as a temporary shield.

She'd forgotten about the spider.

Peeking around the edge of her fortifications, she saw the spider had recovered, holding up a pair of tommy guns. Lute was familiar with the weapon, having been around when they were first introduced to Hell. Solidly built guns, but only at short to medium range, at longer ranges the bullet spread tended to be too wide for them to be useful. If she could create distance, she could render the gun moot. In the past it was easier to just tank the annoying gunfire, but now there was a 50/50 chance those bullets were made of angelic steel. She couldn't risk it. 

“Angel, ya rat, don't you normally have, like, six of those?” Cherri's voice called out as she pulled herself out of the potted plant.

“Only carry two around the hotel. Ain't ya ever heard of gun safety?” Angel answered, letting off a burst of fire to keep Lute pinned.

“Piss poor time for it mate, could use more firepower.” Cherri answered 

“Do you morons always keep up casual conversations in combat?” Lute growled from her hiding spot. The audacity of these Sinners.

“Only so long as it keeps ya distracted, Feathers.” Angel laughed, followed by another spray of gunfire to keep Lute in place. Distracted? What did they mean by distract- oh shit. Lute looked around frantically, but she was too late. Her eyes landed on a bomb, its fuse lightly hissing. Likely dropped by Cherri as soon as she was thrown, something she would have noticed if not for the crosstalk. 

The hissing fuse disappeared into the bomb and time stilled for a horrible second. She had seen these bombs used during the failed Extermination, shredding her fellow Exorcists like wet paper. Lute had no time. All she could do was curl in on herself and pray that God might listen for once. Squeezing her eyes shut, she braced for impact. There was a bang, and a sensation of something hitting her wings that made her flinch… but no pain? No, rather, there was a loud hissing and a sudden acrid stench in the air. She'd been fooled. 

Thick smoke rapidly filled the area around her, making her eyes burn and throat itch. A smoke bomb? A fucking smoke bomb?! Why the fuck had they- 

Six arms clenched around Lute, a job made easy due to her still curled in position. She was being lifted and carried? The spider! She knew she was stronger than him, but six arms being used in tandem made it hard to get a proper angle to free herself. She couldn't see shit due to all the smoke. Where were they taking her? Some horrible secret sex dungeon? A torture chamber? Lute wouldn't be grappled forever, when she got out of this she was going to tear them LIMB FROM LIMB.

All too quickly, Lute was set free. Gravity asserted itself as she was dropped to the ground. Hard, unyielding concrete based on the feeling of it. Her flailing caused her to roll down a few short steps before she came to a stop.

Sputtering and coughing from the smoke, Lute pulled herself up. She reentered a combat stance as quickly as she could, still blinking rapidly to get the tears from her eyes. She looked around… she was back outside?

Angel and Cherri stood at the entrance of the hotel, coughing a bit themselves, but otherwise looking rather smug. Lute slowly blinked, confused at first. Why want her outside? Being indoors limited her flight mobility, she was at the advantage outside, so why?... Realization struck her immediately.

Lute laughed. A genuine hearty laugh that nearly had her doubling over. That maneuver should have killed her. It was a perfect set up to get a bomb she couldn't dodge right into her face… and yet, these Sinners had wasted it to get her outside… because they didn't want to damage the hotel. The hotel that had already been destroyed once. Lute had fought through more than two centuries worth of Exterminations and never once seen a single sinner give a good god damn about property damage , yet these two actively made the fight harder on themselves just to avoid harming their precious fucking hotel.

Something about that tickled Lute's brain in the right way that she just had to laugh at the absurdity of it. These demons actually really cared about that damn building, like it meant something to them. 

“Oy… uhm… think this one might be broken, yeah?” Cherri rested a hand on her hip as she observed Lute’s giggle fit.

“This place does attract the crazies.” Angel answered, guns hanging limply in his hands.

Lute tried not to let a fresh wave of laughter overtake her. Even now, they could be taking advantage of her laughing fit to get a shot in or something… but they didn't! Why didn't they? Were they just that confused or were they too polite to attack someone not fighting back? None of this behavior made sense for Sinners, violent wretched Sinners who knew nothing beyond sin and debauchery. Why didn't anything make sense anymore? If she wasn't laughing she would be screaming. Why didn't anything make sense? Why didn't anything m-

Smack.

Lute slapped herself, forcibly putting her brain cart back on the nice safe railroad tracks. No questions, no giggle fits, no wasting time. Only slaughter. She reached deep within herself, drawing upon that well of righteous anger that sat in her core. The one that bled its waters so readily when she lost herself in the thrill of battle. That was her connection to the Divine, her gift to be its instrument. She was an angel, a soldier, a weapon. She need know nothing more than that.

“Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron; thou shalt dash them in pieces like a potter's vessel.
Be wise now therefore, O ye kings: Be admonished, ye judges of the earth.
Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling.
Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled but a little. ”

The scripture felt satisfying on her tongue, reminding her that she served an angry god, a god who knew the necessity of divine wrath.

“You have any fuckin’ idea what that cunt is on about?” Cherri asked.

“No god damn idea… but anytime some crazy person quotes the bible at me, it's usually a bad sign.” Angel quipped.

“It means, no more pussyfooting around, Heathens.” Stretching her wings out wide as she could, a mighty flap had her rocketing skyward. They wanted a fight outside, they would fucking get it. The two Sinners probably would have normally wasted time on more banter, but they seemed to recognize the growing severity of the situation. They ran off in two directions, trying to split her attention. 

The bomber was first to act, lobbing a sparking grenade through the air with impressive aim. Uncaring if it was a real bomb or a dud, Lute snapped her claws out to catch the bomb. A quick spin sent the projectile sparking back from whence it came. It detonated before hitting the ground, but it still sent Cherri ducking for cover and cursing as angelic shrapnel rained down. Pulling her wings in, Lute dropped from the air right to where Cherri had tried to find cover. The bomber wasn’t quite as quick on the uptake this time. A sharp and strong  backhand was more than enough to have the Sinner spitting blood, single eye dazed. 

She had to move fast to take advantage of any opening, grabbing Cherri’s hair and yanking her to ground level. The Sinner cried out in pain as the back of her head thunked painfully to the ground, but it gave her a great and terrifying view as Lute showed off her claws, ready to drive them down on a very conveniently placed X in the middle of that giant eye. Seriously, it was like she was asking to get stabbed in the eye.

Annoyingly, she didn’t get to have her moment. A spark of gunfire had Lute backing off and retreating to the safety of the sky. Angel Dust wasn’t going to abandon his ‘friend’ apparently. Accelerating, Lute flew in a wide arc with a stream of steady gunfire following just behind her. The Sinners had the tools to keep her at bay, but she knew they had to be in limited supply, having used the bulk of their reserves in the last Extermination. Waiting them out was an option, or she could punish them for their hubris. The latter sounded better.

These creatures were owed no honor or respect, there was nothing wrong with abusing their weaknesses. Lute slung herself into a tighter arc that had her flying across the front of the hotel. Angel, a predictable fool, cut off his stream of fire to avoid mangling the front of the building. A mistake he would regret. Lute pulled her wings in tight, twisting the kick off the side of the building. She dropped like a falling missile, aiming towards the lanky spider demon. Desperate, he pulled up his guns for a burst of fire. Lute felt two stray bullets land glancing blows, tearing lines of flesh along one of her wings and her opposite shoulder, but she didn't abandon her dive. A moment later she impacted with crushing force. Little known fact, angelic immunity meant that no demonic entity could harm her. Through experimentation, she learned that this extended to crashing into a demon, meaning she took no damage from the impact. Sinners were great emergency landing pads.

The Sinner did not have nearly as good a time. They hit the ground in a tangle of limbs, rolling and skidding across the pavement until they ended up in the grassy lawn. Lute came out of it mildly disoriented and with a dirty uniform. Angel, based on how he lay groaning in pain, likely had a few broken ribs at least.

“Oi! Lay off him bitch!” cried the cyclops, sprinting to close the distance between them, but she skidded to a stop as Lute stood up and placed a boot against Angel’s head. The look of fear and concern in her eye was so… genuine. She seemed more afraid of Lute hurting Angel than she had been when Lute was seconds from tearing her eye out.

“Sentimentality.” Lute murmured, looking from Angel to Cherri. Cherri was at a good range, she’d seen the Sinner’s throwing arm. A well aimed throw could have a grenade right in her face and blow Lute to kingdom come… but she won’t do it, because the bomb would shred Angel Dust as well. The Sinner didn’t want to hurt her friend, and was careful to not agitate Lute so she didn’t hurt him. These Sinners genuinely cared about each other. How bizarre.

Lute raised her foot, then brought it back down on Angel’s face. Almost gently at first. A step. Then harder. A stomp. Then harder. She continued slamming her foot into Angel’s face, grinding him into the dirt. Cherri screamed in terror and anger, attempting to charge at Lute and abandon all caution. She was so afraid of Lute killing him, the Sinner was running forward without a plan. 

If she wanted Angel Dust, she could have him.

Lute yanked her leg back, putting some actual strength into this kick as she kicked Angel hard enough to send him flying through the air. He collided with Cherri but their momentum didn’t stop until the pair hit the dragon statue. They landed in the fountain at its base with a splash, both groaning in pain but still alive. They were out of the fight, it was time to end this.

“You’ll have to forgive me, I don’t usually drag this out.” Lute spoke as she slowly stalked towards the wet, weak and weary Sinners. “I’m having a bit of an off day.”

She put her foot on the edge of the fountain, looking down at the Sinners. Her wings spread wide, casting them in a dark shadow as she loomed over them. Neither was in good enough shape to flee or even make a witty remark. A shame. No last rites for the wicked it seemed. 

Lute held up her clawed hand, seeing the way the Sinner’s eyes followed it. This was a bit more dramatic than she might normally act, but these Sinners had actually put up something almost resembling a fight. She would take her time, tear them apart piece by painful piece, revel in the screams of the damned as she had hundreds of times before. She would-

“What the Fuck are you idiots doing!? The lobby is a fucking mess and you morons are shooting off guns and bombs and shit while I’m trying to take inventory!” a voice behind Lute called out, rather ruining the tension of the moment. Lute dropped her hand to her side limply as the killing mood evaporated, replaced by irritation as she looked over her shoulder.

Standing in the doorway of the hotel was a strange cat bird Sinner? The man had the look of a cranky drunkard, dressed only in trousers, suspenders, and an incredibly stupid looking top hat and bow-tie. Lute frowned, she remembered seeing him at the last Extermination but hadn’t given him much thought, but something about his appearance itched at the back of her brain. Next to him stood something that more immediately drew her attention from scratching that itch. The cockroach! The tiny Sinner that killed Adam was standing next to him, looking around with her big curious eye. That thing absolutely had to die.

“Seriously, ain't we trying to keep this place ni- Oh shit.” The catbird demon finally seemed to notice Lute, as well as the pair of wounded Sinners in the pool. Surprisingly, his first reaction wasn’t anger. He took his time heaving out a long, tired sigh as if Lute was some kind of tiresome chore rather than an imminent threat. “Something told me you crazy exorcists would be back. Hey, Niffty, we got a bad bitch problem.”

“Yeah, but it’s not a bad boy problem. Nothing fun happens around here.” the tiny cockroach cyclops pouted.

“Fucking one track mind. You know where in Hell Alastor fucked off to?”

“Errands.” ‘Niffty’ explained simply, pulling out the angelic dagger that killed Adam so casually it made Lute’s blood boil. She looked up to the cat bird, asking, “Stabby time?”

“Always fucking off on errands when you actually need him… Yeah, Stabby time. Better deal with this before Charlie gets back. You know how she is with strays.” the taller Sinner pulled out a deck of playing cards, idly shuffling them. Lute could see the glint of blessed steel framing the edges of the cards, those things had torn through a dozen Exorcists during the Extermination. Seriously, something about this Sinner made her brain itch, like she was forgetting something. It would have to wait, Lute had to turn these two into corpses first.

“That’s overly optimistic of you. Manage to kill a few angels and suddenly you damned souls just think you’re in control? I’ll be happy to break that illusion.” growling, Lute turned fully away from Angel and Cherri, those two could wait until she was done. This new pair of Sinners held themselves differently. It was subtle but Lute had seen thousands of Sinners in her life. There was a certain confidence to this pair. Older, more experienced souls. Stronger, likely. 

Lute could play ball.

A silence held as they measured each other up. Daring each other to make the first play. It came with no surprise that the cockroach lacked patience. A maniacal giggle broke the moment as the smaller one ran, skittering for Lute. The Cat bent at the knees before launching himself into the air with a flap of his wings. Niffty was not a subtle thing, but was shockingly fast. The thing closed the distance in a second, stabbing forth with her dagger. Thankfully the creature was three feet tall and holding a dagger, so she had no real range at all. Relatively easy to dodge with some quick footwork. The rapid thrusts of the dagger kept coming in a wild and unpredictable pattern, forcing Lute to retreat backwards on the defensive. Surprisingly, there was far more skill on display than her brawl with Cherri. The bomber was an amateur brawler, but Niffty held her blade with a dangerous mix of confident skill and sadistic madness.

She just needed a second to find an opening and she could- stinging pain erupted as something sliced across her cheek, spilling glowing golden blood. This pair knew how to work together too. Lute barely had time to see the flying cat drawing another card off his deck before a scream ripped from her throat. The tiny Sinner had seemed invigorated by the spilt blood, eye and mouth all too wide as she used Lute’s moment of distraction to bury the blade into Lute’s thigh. A scream ripped from Lute’s lungs as the blessed steel tore flesh and blood as easily as paper. A direct wound in the leg like this might end a lesser fighter, but the rage thrumming in Lute’s chest helped her to push through the pain. She’d been through worse. Snarling, Lute kicked her leg, ignoring the fresh wave of pain as the embedded blade was wrenched free when her foot connected with the tiny Sinner and sent it flying. 

The fucking thing giggled as it flew.

Blood seeped from her leg wound and it nearly buckled when she went to put weight on it, but it was nothing that Lute couldn’t grit her teeth and ignore. There was no time for any distractions. Another playing card shot down from above, Lute had to yank her head to the side to dodge it. Those things flew with deadly accuracy for such a strange choice of weapon. The flying cat smirked, wiggling his finger in a small wave from high above. He wanted an aerial fight? She’d give it to him.

She took to the sky, ignoring the skittering creature for now. It couldn’t fly. The cat began pumping his wings, leading Lute on a chase. He was somewhat fast, but Lute was handmade for hunting down Sinners. She was rapidly catching up. 

The Sinner threw a pair of dice over his shoulder, seemingly harmless, but Lute was expecting surprises at this point. Angling her wings, she averted her flight path just in time for the dice to fucking explode. Cards and fucking dice? This Sinner was damn dedicated to a particular aesthetic. The chase seemed to go on in that fashion for a bit as they flew back and forth around the hotel. Anytime Lute started to close in, the Sinner would toss a card or more exploding dice to keep Lute from gaining on him. He seemed to think he could tire her out… though with the bleeding leg wound that wasn’t an impossible prospect. 

She’d played his game enough. Flapping harder, she held her hand out to the side as she began closing the gap. As expected, the Sinner threw some dice in her path, but Lute was prepared. A golden flash of holy magic lit the air as Adam’s guitar manifested in its axe form. With a growl, she swung it through the air. The blade hummed with Heaven’s fury as it carved through the dice, obliterating them. She’d been limiting herself by not using the weapon from the beginning, but it had almost seemed like cheating to use such a powerful holy relic on these damned souls. No more of that. A few more flaps and Lute stretched out her prosthetic to lock around the end of the cat’s feathered tail, earning a pained yowl. Yanking it backward, she threw off the cat’s balance and stopped him from using his wings properly. With a grunt of effort, she threw him to the side. The Sinner fumbled in the air, trying to regain his balance mid flight, but Lute didn’t let him. Pulling the Axe back like a baseball player ready for a home-run, she swung it through the air with tremendous force. She caught the sinner full in the face with the flat of the axe, knocking him for a literal loop. He spiraled through the air before crashing into the ground with a thud.

Lute gave a few flaps of her wings before she gently alighted on the head of the dragon statue, resting the massive axe on her shoulder. Looking down at the cat, seeing the tiny Niffty helping the old drunk up, it finally clicked for Lute. The itch at the back of her head.

“I’ve seen you before.” she said, looking him up and down. Yes, he had very distinctive wings, those were hard to forget.

“Yeah, oof, a fucking month ago.” he growled, dusting himself off.

“No. 1996, Extermination day. Husk the Gambler.” Lute corrected, and the cat visibly reacted with a start at her saying his name. Lute remembered the day vividly. A cocky overlord had flown up from Pentagram city, announcing himself for all to hear. Lute had taken the initiative on hunting him down personally to punish him for his arrogance. What had followed was an extremely frustrating chase that had lasted until the retreat was called. The gambler had gotten away from her and Lute hadn’t scored a single kill that year. An absolute embarrassment. Adam mocked her over it for months . The Sinner that got away. “I almost didn’t recognize you with that stupid fucking hat.”

“Leave the hat out of this. Still, damn. Talk about a lifetime ago. I was drunk, trying to settle a bet.” Husk explained, replacing the hat on his head. “Hard to recognize you, all those helmets look the fucking same.”

“Seems like God has granted me the blessing of a second chance to end your fucking life.” Lute flared her wings, ready for a second round.

“Bring it, Bitch.” Husk said, cracking his knuckles.

Leaping from her perch, Lute twisted in the air as she spun the axe towards Husk. he barely pulled his head out of the way in time to avoid getting his whiskers trimmed. A flap of his wings helped him create distance but Lute wasn’t going to give him time to recover. She’d been playing defense too often during these close encounters, not this time. The Axe sang back and forth, leaving golden arcs in the air as Husk was forced to rapidly backpedal to avoid it. If Lute had her sword, this might have been over much faster. Adam’s axe was an objectively better weapon by every metric, but it was large and operated quite quickly compared to her personal sword. The two handed axe might have been light as a feather thanks to its magical nature, but moving it still took more effort than a one handed blade. If only she’d had more time to practice.

The axe wasn’t without advantages though, what it lacked in grace it made up in raw power. The sheer power of the weapon displayed itself when she finally managed to tag husk, even a glancing scratch across the back of his arm left a burning wound in its wake that made the Sinner yowl in pain. He stumbled back, clutching his injured arm until he was backed up against the old iron fence that lined the edges of the steep hill that the Hotel sat on. Seriously, they had fencing along the sides of the hill but not a goddamn wall at street level? Lute would have words with the architect of this fucking abomination.

Wincing through the pain, Husk grabbed at the fence. He had surprising strength, managing to rip free one of the iron bars with only a little effort.

“More fair if we both have a weapon.” he growled, brandishing the heavy iron rod, which did actually have something of a spear like tip… though blunt and more likely to give Lute tetanus than an actual wound. Not that a Sinner could hurt her with it anyway.

“Life’s not fair.” Lute brought the axe around again, intending to cleave the improvised weapon in two. Though Husk didn’t have the look of a sword fighter, he managed the weapon with skill. Anytime Lute would bring the axe down, he managed to block her. Blocking shouldn’t have meant anything, as the magical weapon would cleave through cheap iron with ease, but Husk somehow managed to consistently smack the iron rod against the neck of the guitar rather than the bladed head. In terms of raw physical strength, Lute was the strongest of the Exorcist army, with Vaggie being only able to beat her in contests of speed. Based on the shock that went through her arms whenever Husk blocked her strikes, Husk might be near her physical equal. Impressive for a fat old drunk.

The Sinner wouldn’t last forever, he didn’t seem as good at ignoring the wound in his arm as Lute was at ignoring her leg… Unfortunately, he wasn’t alone. Mad giggling ruined any chance of surprise attack, giving her plenty of time to throw her arm out and block Niffty’s attempted strike. The axe came down a moment later, Niffty executed a perfect block, using her dagger to block the axe but at the expense of sending her tumbling away. Every success had a cost though, with Husk taking the chance to crack the iron rod against the side of Lute’s head. No pain, but the force pushed her off balance long enough for Niffty to recover.

The angel found herself assaulted on two sides by these experienced Sinners. Husk had a combination of raw aggression and precision timing that blended well with Niffty’s mad intensity and skill. Lute was forced back onto the defense again, much to her annoyance. Husk and Niffty had managed to coordinate a strategy without having to say a word. Husk was the main aggressor, unable to cause any damage but better at blocking Lute’s attacks and the force of any hits from that rod could disrupt Lute’s reaction time, creating openings for Niffty to come in with her dagger. Lute found herself being seriously tested for what might have been the first time in her life. It took every ounce of skill she had cultivated over her life to keep the duo at bay.

For centuries, Lute had enjoyed the freeing thrill of slaughter during Exterminations, but would more often than not find herself unsatisfied by the end of the day. Unless there was a particularly strong Overlord on the menu for a pack of Exorcists to swarm like holy piranha, the slaughter of Sinners could often be too easy. Few to none ever fought back until now, and Lute often found the countless hours she had dedicated to training to be wasted effort. She might have grown bored of it long ago if not for Adam’s steady flow of praise and the excuse to get her blood pumping.

But this? This was something new. She could feel the edge of weariness starting to creep into her muscles, the mix of searing pain and chilling cold from her wounded leg, the sweat beading down her brow. In 256 years, she had barely even needed to dodge , yet now she was ducking and weaving around attacks at high speed. She found herself using every inch of the weapons at her disposal to block and strike back. Her metal arm acted as shield and blade, catching strikes and getting in light scratches when she could manage. The axe blurred in her hands, spinning wide arcs to push her opponents back, making thrusts with the hilt to catch them off guard.

Lute became so lost in the mad melee that she was shocked to find herself actually smiling. A strange kind of joy creeped in around the rage burning in her heart. She had never been challenged like this before and she was… having fun? Not the mad thrill of slaughter, but the kind of giddy fun one might have in the middle of some kind of game. What on earth was wrong with her? She was wasting time, struggling against Sinners she should have been able to kill with ease. Lute should not be having fucking fun. Forcing the smile into a grimace of concentration, she resolved to end this little back and forth. 

As she blocked yet another strike from Husk, rather than pull back to try again, she pressed down, forcing him into a test of strength as their weapons locked together. Though Husk had the strength to test her, the iron was the weak element between them. The metal began to creak and groan, bending under the weight of Lute’s strength. Hearing the skittering sound of Niffty’s approach, she knew she didn’t have a lot of time. Just as the iron rod bent a little more, Lute kicked back against the ground with a flap of her wings. The iron rod got stuck between the neck and the hook of the Axe blade, pulling a surprised Husk off his feet as Lute moved. With a roar of effort, she pulled the drunkard around and sent him rolling over Niffty, who squeaked as she was bowled over by the ball of fur and feathers.

Cursing in pain, Husk tossed the rod at Lute as a distraction, buying him time to kick off back into the air. Lute didn’t even bother looking to see what happened to Niffty, Husk was more dangerous if he could create some range between them while Niffty was ground bound and next to useless. Working her wings, Lute set off to fly after Husk again.

It started much the same as the last chase, but using the axe negated any attempt for Husk to distract her. A sweep of the blade cleaved angelic steel tipped playing cards in two and destroyed dice before they had a chance to explode. Husk had to rely on clever fight tricks to keep Lute off his tail (literally), but it wouldn’t last forever. Clearly, this Husk wasn’t in as good a shape as one Lute chased years ago. Pretty soon he was the one huffing and puffing from his work out and Lute was able to overtake him. She swung the axe back, ready to bring it down on his spine in a killing blow, but then something crawled around from Husk’s chest. Niffty gave a gleeful cackle as she revealed herself, leaping between the flyers onto Lute. 

Fucking sinners and their dirty tricks. he must have grabbed the tiny woman while Lute was distracted by the rod. Lute screamed, dropping the axe as she wrestled with the frantic little monster. The thing crawled over her with incredible dexterity. Lute had to put all her effort into keeping it from sinking its knife in her again, but it left her open to attack. Husk closed in, drawing his fist back and slamming it into Lute’s jaw. The blow caused no pain, but it had an incredible amount of force behind it, throwing her through the air until she slammed against the side of the hotel. She was not immune to impacts against Hellish architecture it seemed. She managed to catch herself, hanging off the stem of the giant apple for a second before Niffty scuttled over her, slicing the dagger across the back of her hand. Lute hissed in pain, falling a few more feet onto what seemed to be leaves or a flower under the apple. 

“STAB!” Niffty cried, dropping from above like some kamikaze bomber with her knife held high. Stupid fucking Sinners, announcing your attacks never works. Her prosthetic arm snapped up and caught the sinner by the throat. With a feral growl, Lute twisted and slammed the little creature into the wall, once, twice, three times. Each slam made a growing web of cracks appear on the surface, making the neon lights flicker and buzz in a very satisfying fashion. Harsh treatment would put most combatants out like a lighty but this little creature was rather durable. She was still conscious but no longer giggling at least, her eye dazed and blood leaking from her lips identified her as being quite stunned..

“You… you’re the one that killed Adam. Right in my hands.” she tightened her grip, her claws starting to prick at the Sinner’s neck. Niffty, this strange, deranged little creature, had a sudden moment of clarity from her seemingly ever present madness. She couldn’t speak, due to the pressure on her neck, but her eye lost the look of mad glee, instead it widened in genuine fear. This Sinner knew it was about to die. It was terrified .

Yes. Yes. This was the proper order of things. Sinners were meant to die. Exorcists were meant to kill them. Sinners were powerless against angels. At their mercy. All they could do was look on in horror as they met the end of their afterlife. This was the way the world was meant to work. This is what Lute wanted.

Wasn’t it?

Nifty struggled uselessly in her steel grip, tears leaking from the edges of her eye as she tried desperately to breathe. All Lute had to do was grip a little tighter, drive her claws into the flesh of this thing’s neck… why was Lute hesitating? She’d killed thousands, tens of thousands of Sinners in her life. This was no different. Nothing had changed. Nothing had changed.

Her arm shook violently as she tried to push past whatever mental hangup that was stopping her from handing out divine judgment as she was built to… but she took too long. 

Pain exploded across her back as several sharp objects impacted her wings. Lute cried out in pain, dropping to her knees and releasing Niffty, who fell to the ground gasping desperately for breath. A handful of those stupid fucking playing cards were stabbed into the flesh of her wings. Feathers dyed in golden blood fell around her as she shook her wings to dislodge the infernal cards. The fucking Sinner would pay for this. Lute snarled through the agony, seeing Husk closing in. To add insult to injury, he had stolen Adam’s axe, gaining momentum to slash it down at Lute.

Snatching Niffty off the ground, she slung the Sinner at Husk, making them collide in the air. Lute’s wings protested in pain as she kicked off the ground. They were damaged but still in working order, they would serve for now. Lute flew up, then closed her wings before Husk could right himself in the air. Much like she had with Angel, she used her body as a missile to strike Husk and Nifty, driving them crashing to the ground. He hit the ground hard, and Niffty was thrown off, bouncing against the concrete in a painful looking fashion.

“I… have… had… enough.” Lute gasped, reaching down and ripping the axe from Husk’s hands. He didn't deserve to touch such a holy relic.

“No more. No more bullshit. No more interruptions!” she lifted the axe, planting her boot on Husk’s chest with a stomp that made him groan in pain.

Lute was a god damn angel. She was the leader of the Exorcists. Handcrafted by Adam to serve a single holy purpose. She killed Sinners. No questions. No hesitation. No morals. No restraint.

Sinners were nothing but monsters. Hollow shells of humanity. Unredeemable trash that existed only to be delivered to the gallows. Sinners didn’t care about bettering themselves. Didn’t care about others. Didn’t care about stupid fucking buildings.

Sinners didn’t change.

That was why she killed them.

That was her only purpose. Exorcist. Exterminator. Executioner. Nothing Else.

Divine magic surged along the axe blade as she prepared to behead this Sinner. With every ounce of strength she could muster, she brought the blade down. An arc of golden light followed in its wake as it crashed towards Husk’s unprotected neck.

It didn’t land.

Black tendrils that cracked with dark green energy erupted from the ground, wrapping around the axe from a dozen angles and stopping it a mere inch from hitting its target. The scream of pure anger and frustration that clawed out of Lute’s throat could probably be heard halfway across Hell.

“Seems I arrived fashionably late to the party.” a crackle of static filled the air, echoing with the sinister voice. Lute’s arms shook as she struggled against the dark tentacles, her head turning fractionally to look at the source.

A Sinner in a sharp red suit, small antlers and deer ears on his head, and a too wide smile. The Sinner that challenged Adam. She actually knew this one by reputation.

Alastor, the Radio Demon. A killer of his own kind. The arrogant idiot that tried to challenge Adam and paid for it in blood.

His hands were folded neatly behind his back as he took a few seconds to observe the scene. His eyes lingered briefly on each of the other Sinners.

Niffty seemed to have recovered, but she looked dazed and had lost her knife in the fight. Angel and Cherri seemed to have caught their breath, leaning on each other as they pulled themselves out of the fountain. Husk was winded, but alive, having been saved at the eleventh hour.

The radio demon gave a small chuckle, lifting a hand and giving a small flick of the wrist. The tendrils tightened, yanking the Axe and, by extension, Lute off to the side. She flew a few feet before rolling to a stop. Hissing in pain as the wounds in her leg and her wings were aggravated. She pulled herself up shakily, keeping a white knuckle grip on the axe as Alastor began to close the distance between them with a casual stride, his every step making a distinct click on the concrete.

“You know, my dear mother was always rather critical of me as a young boy. Never could play nice with the neighborhood kids.” he commented, his grin widening to a point that might have been painful on a human face. “I really tried to be better, but I simply couldn’t stand when someone else touched. My. Toys.” 

His voice turned into a monstrous growl, the crackling of static filling Lute’s ears. He held his hand out to the side, something flying in to rest in his palm. Niffty’s dagger.

This demon clearly hadn’t learned from the thrashing Adam gave him.

Fine.

“Round two, Bitch.” Lute snarled, turning her head to spit a glob of golden blood on the dirt. She’d rip apart anything Hell was prepared to throw at her, or die trying.

Chapter Text

Lute hated playing defense.

Her wings screamed in protest as she put them through the ringer. Speeding through the air, having to quickly twist, bank, and dodge volleys of black tendrils as they shot up from the ground at dozens of angles. Not harmful on their own due to her innate protection, but each was strong enough to yank her from the sky and slam her painfully into the concrete below. Direct damage from sinners was able to be ignored, but being slammed into and through the environment seemed borderline on what her angelic nature could protect her from. It didn't hurt that much, but it would take an increasing toll on her.

Contrary to her growing frustration, That bastard Sinner below seemed to be having a great time. Standing there with his rictus grin and humming to himself. This is why Lute hated fighting sorcerers. As much as she hated to admit it, the back and forth brawl with Husk and Niffty had been a fun and satisfying challenge, but this wasn’t. Sorcerers barely put in any kind of effort in a fight, just letting all their flashy magic do the work. Alastor didn’t even need to move to conjure up dozens of those black tentacles, and each of them moved with frightening speed and accuracy. The man barely had to put in more effort than following Lute through the air with his eyes.

If only that was all he was doing.

Sinners and their fucking songs.

“Oh little bird,
with a little bill~” 

The sinner spoke in a singsong voice, watching Lute pull off evasive maneuvers to keep out of his reach. Already tired from the previous fight, she needed to find any opening she could to shut this demon down.

“She landed on
my window sill~”  

Lute tilted her wings to bank hard, skirting along the facade of the Hotel. Even this Sinner seemed to at least not aim directly at the building, but she doubted that would last if she abused it. For the moment it gave her a second of breathing room. She needed to save her energy for a desperate maneuver. It would tax her injured body but it was the best she had.

“I lured her in,
with a piece of bread~”

Angling her body and Lute kicked off the wall of the hotel for a burst of speed. She piled on every inch of speed she could muster, screaming through the air faster than the shadows could reach her. Faster than the sinner could turn his head. It hurt even more to arrest her momentum, slamming her wings against the wind felt like hitting a brick wall, but it was a necessity to take the opening she had. The Axe appeared in her hand as she moved to swing it at the back of the Radio Demon’s head.

“And then I smashed
Her tiny head!~”

Only too late did she realize that she’d been tricked. The Axe broke through the Radio Demon’s form and it split apart into a shadowy mist. Something gripped her by the ankle, Lute barely caught a glimpse of the real Radio demon’s hand before she was yanked from the air and slammed into the ground with a mighty thud. Her skull cracked against the concrete, rattling her reality.

Confused and stunned, Lute didn’t have time to react before she was lifted, swung through the air and slammed into the ground again. Face first this time. Angelic immunity didn’t extend to headbutting concrete. Alastor had apparently put in some thought on how to fight angels without making use of angelic weapons. Lute’s brain felt like soup. Every thought had to lurch through a mire of confusion and pain before it could be processed. Not good for fighting. She had to get herself together and remember which limb was which.

Thankfully, whether it had been an intentional part of her creation or not, Lute was a creature of spite and determination. The cackling static tinged laughter of the Radio Demon was enough to get her going, the sheer amusement and mirth in the sound forcing itself through the confused haze of her rattled brain. Again, she reached within herself, the well of rage at her core offered its waters and she drank greedily. Fury boiling through her veins, Lute grabbed her brain and forced it back on the proper tracks through sheer force of will. Digging her angelic claws into the ground for leverage, she yanked her foot out of the Sinner’s grip. Before he could react, she pushed both hands against the ground and launched her body backwards, kicking both feet into the Sunner’s chest and throwing him to the ground with a pained grunt.

A flap of her wings had her hovering over the fallen Sinner. He didn’t seem to find the situation quite as funny anymore now that he wasn’t in control, his ever present smile thinning slightly in annoyance. Typical overlord, all flash and bluster but more fragile than they pretended. Lute just needed one good hit on him, then he would fold, just like he had with Adam. Pulling her arm back to bring her claws down on him, Lute planned to end this quickly so she could get back to ripping apart the rest of the flock.

“Not so fast, little bird. ” The demon hissed, raising his hand. A small spark of black lightning flickered around his claws, before Lute’s vision was eclipsed in darkness. Concentrated dark energy slammed into Lute with the force of a freight train. She had a feeling that a point blank blast of this caliber would have reduced another Sinner or lesser hellborn to a fine ash. In her case, the raw energy sent her flying backwards and away from the Sinner. Disoriented and confused, Lute couldn’t get her wings in order in time to avoid a crash. Thankfully this time she landed in the somewhat forgiving dirt and grass, her body bouncing twice before gravity let her rest.

A groan escaped her lips, blinking several times as she pulled herself into a sitting position. Looking around herself, she cursed. That blast had thrown her all the way to the opposite end of the hotel. After all the work she put in to close the distance on that absolute bastard. Letting rage fuel her aching muscles, she pulled herself to a standing position. Not the easiest thing. She was battered from being thrown around, her leg wound from Nifty had lost her quite a bit of blood, and after all the flying on injured wings she was running towards the edge of what she could force her wings to do. On top of all this, after that blast, her body felt… tingly? Somewhere between a mild sunburn and being dipped in a pool of carbonated water. Looking down at herself, she was surprised to see the state of her uniform. It was still mostly intact, but shredded and burned in more than a few places. The material of the uniform wasn’t truly armor, but it should have been somewhat resistant to demonic attacks. Was the attack that powerful or had the Sinners figured out some other way to bypass it? Her angelic body should be entirely immune to all demonic magic, she shouldn’t have felt anything from that attack at all.

… Unless there was something wrong with Lute? No, no that was impossible. She didn’t need to think about that. She had a demon to slay.

Speaking of which, the Radio demon was approaching her with an annoyingly casual stroll.

“My my, you’re quite tougher than the average Exorcist. I tore apart a few dozen of your sisters without much struggle when you last visited the hotel.” he laughed, spinning the angelic dagger through his fingers. Lute squinted, was the demon actually going to skip another round of chasing her down with shadows and fight her head on? He really was on a different level of arrogance. “Never did get any nice souvenirs that day, but I suppose you might look good on the ol’ mantle piece.”

“Eat shit, Radiohead.” Lute growled, summoning the axe to her hand. 

“... Always such riveting conversation with you holy types.” Alastor’s grin thinned, clearly hoping for a higher quality of banter. Fuck him! Lute didn’t exist for his fucking entertainment!

Roaring, she sprinted forward, swinging the axe in a downward arc. Alastor back stepped the swipe easily, he was dexterous, clever, and had good combat instincts. Lute had seen that in his brief bout with Adam. That battle had been… somewhat embarrassing for her late leader. Still, this Sinner was barely over a hundred years old, Lute had been fighting for two and a half centuries. As the blade went past Alastor towards the ground, Lute tensed every muscle in her body. Stopping the downward momentum of such a large weapon was about as easy as power lifting an elephant, but Lute could do it. She was simply built fucking different. Her muscles burned in protest as she reversed the momentum, bringing the axe back skyward. Alastor had attempted to move in and capitalize on the opening made by the first swing, thus was only barely able to pull himself from the path of the second. The blade sang by him, tracing a thin line of red blood along his chest and cleaving his monocle in two with a satisfying ‘ping’.

Lute felt a smile crawl onto her face as she saw the Sinner’s face morph into a twisted grin of fury. All that effort for barely a scratch, but the strike cut far deeper into Alastor’s ego than it had his flesh. Though, even a scratch from the axe wasn’t something to sneeze at. Alastor had already experienced that once, and the memory was rather fresh considering the way his free hand gripped at the sizzling wound.

Alastor came at her then, throwing a flurry of slashes with his dagger. It was clear that knife fighting wasn't his usual forte, but what he lacked in refinement he more than compensated for in speed and power. It should have been easier than fighting both Husk and Niffty, but Alastor had several advantages over them. The first of which was simple height, armed with only a dagger, the difference of stature between them was significant enough that he had almost as much reach with his blade as Lute had with her axe. He possessed all of Husk’s strength and more, combined with Niffty’s speed with the blade. Lute was forced to dismiss the axe, it was simply too large and awkward for such close quarters, instead relying on her prosthetic arm for offense and defense. While the whole arm was made of reinforced metal, only the claws were of Angelic steel, thus anytime she used it to block one of Alastor's slashes, it tore a deep scar into the metal. Her attempts to scratch him were just as futile. The man was impossibly fast and agile, it was rare Lute could even scratch his coat. 

She did have one advantage over him, even if she lagged behind him in speed and power. He only had one weapon that could harm her. Lute, on the other hand, was a living weapon. Getting Alastor to focus his attacks on her arm as the main point of offense and defense was easy enough, especially with a bit of bait. He was intelligent, but his ego and bloodthirst were starting to cloud his judgment. A slash thrown just a bit too wide, she paid her blood sacrifice. Alastor’s blade cut across her chainmail collar, tearing away rings of blessed steel and golden blood as it raked across her shoulder. The Radio Demon’s smile widened, but only for a fraction of a second. Taking the opening she’d bought with blood, Lute drove her right fist into Alastor’s stomach. A choked gag escaped his jaw, blood and spittle flying into her face. The gut blow set him off balance, this Demon clearly had little experience with taking any kind of actual injury. Something most experienced fighters could have easily shrugged off was almost enough to completely throw the Radio Demon off his game.

He recovered quickly, but his following attacks were clumsy enough for Lute to press her advantage. Finally, Lute managed to catch his dagger, wrapping her claws around it. The blade bit deep into the palm of her metal hand but she managed to hold it in place. Her arm shook and its internal mechanics groaned in protest as it was barely able to compete with Alastor’s superior strength. The victory was short-lived.

Before Lute could take advantage of the stalemate to punch him again, the radio demon tried a new tactic. Stepping in closer so that he and Lute were only inches apart. Before Lute could tell what he was doing, his free hand shot down and gripped her thigh, making a point to shove his clawed thumb directly into the stab wound Nifty left. Lute screamed in pain, leg spasming erratically as she struggled to remain standing. Alastor seemed to enjoy his newfound way to get around her physical immunity, driving the claw deeper into the wound and twisting it around to tear more screams from his victim. It was a unique form of agony. Every movement stretched as he tore at the already damaged muscles, making golden blood seep and spurt out of her leg until it stained the ground below them in a shimmering pool. Torn flesh and nerve endings cried alarms that took every ounce of willpower to ignore.

“My my, what a delightful sound. Perhaps I could convince you to add your Angelic voice to my radio show?” The sadistic Sinner laughed, his massive yellow stained fangs grinning so hard it seemed to crack the sides of his face. His breath smelled of rotten meat. Lute's body trembled through the pain, but she held onto her resolve and fury. She'd been through worse. Besides, this is what she had wanted to see wasn't it? A perfect example of the worst of the damned. A reminder of why she existed, why her cause was just. This creature, so cruel and wicked and deranged, could never be redeemed no matter what that damn princess preached. 

Her leg was starting to buckle, struggling to hold her weight and the increasing pressure of the Radio Demon pushing down on her. Her shoulder with her prosthetic ached terribly and the arm itself was starting to make strained creaking noises that were surely a bad sign. Desperate to get out of this situation, Lute had to use her head. Literally. 

Fingers shaking, her free hand lifted to grip onto Alastor's shoulder. Both of his hands were too occupied to stop her at this point. Despite her tortured existence, Lute savored the look of suspicious bewilderment the Sinner had at the gesture. 

Then she fucking headbutted him.

Alastor blinked, expression stunned and confused. The collision of their skulls had rattled even Lute's brain, her angelic nature making it so she was getting the better end of the exchange, but cracking skulls against the reinforced body of an overlord still felt only slightly better than headbutting a brick wall. Nonetheless, she did it again. And again. And again.

Each blow came with a resounding crack, sending a jolt through both their bodies. Lute could feel her brain bouncing around in her skull. There was going to be a concussion in the near future, but she actually found the numbness it brought to be a blessing. Alastor, on the other hand, was not having as good a time. Her assessment of his inability to take punishment was proving very true. The radio demon’s grip had slackened and he was momentarily stunned by the repeated blows to the head. Good.

Leaning back as much as she could, Lute slammed their heads together a final time, bringing their heads together with all the phenomenal force of two things hitting each other really hard . What? It was hard to think of cool descriptors after five blows to the head, sue her. Alastor fell back, his face stained with a mix of gold and red blood. Fragile fucker, wasn’t he? Lute had been getting thrown around this entire fight and she was mostly still standing after slamming her brain cage. Since her creation, everyone had told her she was especially hard headed, glad it paid off. Lute held for a few extra seconds, but at last weakness overtook her. Legs buckling, she fell to her knees. Okay, maybe she was less okay than she thought.

Every inch of her ached. She'd pushed herself to fight five people in a row of increasing difficulty and it had taken its toll. If she wasn't an angel, she'd be dead several times over. Even then, she was fucking pushing it. Taking stock, she mentally reviewed her injuries. The leg wound was priority one, a bad stab wound made worse. Her wings had been damaged by Husk's dumb playing cards and the muscles were well past overtaxed. Knife fighting Alastor had left her with another bleeding wound in her shoulder and done quite the number on her prosthetic..Being slammed around into the ground had left her badly bruised and based on how it hurt to breath something in her ribcage was at least a little messed up. Lastly, the headbutting left her with a bloody nose and one hell of a headache.

All this and Lute hadn't killed a single sinner. Why? She'd had opportunities, she knew she had… but she always hesitated, just long enough to let something or someone else stop her. Fuck, if she really pushed herself, she could at least try to get up and stab Alastor. Out of all the Sinners she had seen today, that shit deserved final death without question, and killing the top fighter would be a significant blow. That was supposed to be the reason why she was here, to kill Charlie’s friends and send a message to the princess. Yet Lute hadn't delivered. Lute had killed untold thousands of Sinners, even other Overlords… So why had this batch given her so much damn trouble? To be fair, they were armed with weapons that could actually hurt her but that wasn't everything. The waters of rage that she normally relied on struggled to flow. It was harder and harder to pull water from the well when it should have been overflowing. Deep down, there was something gnawing at Lute's core, influencing her, making her hold back … but what was it? 

She didn't get a chance to figure it out.

The crackle of radio static filled the air, deep within the sound was the undulating cry of some unknown creature. Lute felt a chill of fear run through her. The Radio Demon had changed. He was larger now, his body seeming gaunt and stretched. His posture was more hunched, the claws of his hands even larger and more hooked. From his back sprouted four long black tentacles that thrashed and slashed at the ground. His neck seemed broken, twisted at odd angles, a massive set of antlers stood upon his head. But his face was the worst of it. Eyes wide and burning, pupils  changed to become radio dials. His smile was terrible and wider than should be possible, yellow fangs seemed to ‘click’ into place and connect in a permanent rictus grin, making his face a frightening parody of an old radio.

“Done catching your breath?” His static grin flashed with light at every word. 

Ah right. She’d almost forgotten. Almost all Sinners could shift their form, peel back any lingering remnants of humanity to show the monster underneath. With Overlords, this transformation could be slightly more intense. Alastor had already been a hard fight and he had been holding back. Fucking fantastic.

The monster screeched again, a sound mixed between a scratched record and a dying animal. A clawed hand came screaming through the air, Lute struggled to respond in time. The creeping exhaustion tugged at her body like weights, making her sluggish. The blow forced her to the ground, head cracking painfully off the pavement again. Alastor wasn’t playing around anymore, stepping up and slamming his fists down on her again and again. Any sense of refinement had been left behind with his humanoid form, in its place was the brutality of a true beast. While each blow caused Lute no pain, the force of them continually pressed her into the unyielding ground. A web of cracks spread around her body as Alastor’s fists formed a crater with Lute at the center. Lute struggled to breath, her ribs aching with protest as she was forced against the ground again and again.

As Alastor brought down a blow that made something in her crack as she rebounded against the ground, Lute brought her own hand up and dug her claws into the flesh of The Radio Demon’s arm. A thousand static voices wailed in pain as he yanked it back, only causing more damage as the blades raked across the flesh. Served him fucking right.

More things cracked and popped in distressing fashion as Lute forced herself out of the crater. The fucking thing had ended up about 6 feet wide and a foot deep. Sucking in as much air as she could get in her lungs, Lute pushed herself to stand. Her vision was going spotty, but she had to pull herself together. Alastor wasn’t going to stop for a scratch. The demon examined its ripped sleeve and dark red blood oozing between his fingers, his grin making disturbing crackling sounds as it widened impossibly more. It was not a happy expression.

The static locked grin finally split in a monstrous roar. The sheer volume of the sound was impossibly deep, amplified through his foul magic. It felt like standing directly in front of one of the giant speakers at Adam’s concerts, the vibrations rattling Lute down to her very bones. The beast cast its hand forward again, black lightning gathering in his fingers. Lute had learned her lesson. She began running, pushing herself through the exhaustion and pain no matter how much she wanted to collapse. Every moment she was dodging bursts of black energy and whipping tentacles, only barely able to move fast enough to avoid them. When she made the mistake of trying to fly, she paid for it by catching a massive fist to the gut. She hit the ground hard, getting a mouthful of pink grass. She had to kick off almost immediately, rolling out of the way of another burst of energy.

Defense and dodging didn’t work against this demon, she needed to keep on offense. Even light blows on Alastor were better than wasting her dwindling energy.

As a tentacle slammed down, Lute flashed out the axe and cut off the tip. The demon snarled, apparently feeling some amount of pain when using the tentacles directly attached to his back, though the dark limb seemed to heal instantly, oily sludge dripping from the wound and condensing into a new tip. 

“Going to play me a song on a dead man’s guitar?” Even his hissed mockery in his form was amplified so much it made Lute’s ears ache. That radio aesthetic bullshit was getting old… that being said, Alastor’s mockery wasn’t a bad idea. Lute noted that the man had a set of rather large deer-like ears. As Alastor lifted a hand, drawing more of that black lighting, Lute decided to make him eat his words. 

Rather than dodge, she flipped the axe around in her hands, holding it as a guitar rather than a weapon. Raising her metal hand high, she focused holy power through her body into the guitar as she raked her claws against the strings of the magic instrument. The blessed steel claws struck against the angelic strings and created a sound that was absolutely deafening. Lute’s own body rattled as the sound ripped a pulse of energy through the air. She was faintly aware of the wounded sinners in the distance crying out in pain, but that was quickly blocked out by Alastor’s own agonized cry. The radio demon howled, dismissing his own magic to clutch his ears as he shook his head back and forth in pain. Lute wasn’t sure what hurt him more, the thrum of holy magic or the sheer fucking volume. 

An utterly unholy fury overtook the beast when he regained his senses.

“ENOUGH.” He bellowed, slamming his hands to the ground with enough force to shake the earth. Lute was briefly confused, unsure of his next move until he dug his claws into the concrete and pulled. The ground split apart with a mighty crack, sickly green light bursting forth from some unknown abyss.

The sound of radio static intensified and Lute could hear… something else in the noise. Voices. Screaming. Praying. Begging. The sound seemed to come from all around Lute, growing louder and louder. Instinctively, she tried to clutch her hands over her ears to drown it out, but it didn't help. The horrible sounds grew even louder, echoing out from whatever horror hid underground. “Do you hear them?  The voices in the broadcast? My own personal Heavenly choir. Would you like to meet them?”

A pulse of dark energy made the cracks spread towards Lute, and the ground exploded. Dozens of pairs of hands began to claw their way out of the fissure. Their forms were dark black husks, Sinners of all descriptions. Some as small as an imp, others as large as the high Seraphim. Eyes empty and hollow. Lute could feel their collective desperation and agony, they craved nothing more than freedom from torment…. Yet they would never have it. They only existed to follow orders. They reached, clawed, and grabbed at her, desperately trying to pull her down into the earth, into whatever nightmare existence made up Alastor's broadcast.

A terrible fear overtook Lute at first, unable to react at first as the things came at her. Finally, survival kicked in, making her try to shove off her attackers. They came at her from every angle, swarming around her. Every time she managed to pull one set of hands off her, another took its place. She could feel herself being pulled towards that yawning rift. No. No, this is not the death she wanted. It wouldn't even be a death, only an eternity among the ranks of these hollow things. She slashed desperately with her claws, the blessed metal tearing through the blackened flesh around her and finally making some of them back off. Again and again and again she slashed, clearing as many of the things away as she could. Once her wings were free, she spread them and used them to shoot her body upwards.

She couldn't fly away. It was too late for that. Her wings protested too much at even an assisted jump. She'd gained breathing room, but the damned below were crawling over each other in a living tower of agony, reaching out for her and growing closer with every moment. Another flap sent waves of pain through her body, she didn't have time to think, only to act. She held the axe high. A tug pulled at the core of her being as golden energy shone along the edge of the blade. Lute was not trained in the art of divine magic, she could not use sorcery nor call it in great bursts of power as Adam had. Yet, her nature was divine, that energy fueled her soul and the axe was a conduit for that power. She pushed as much of herself into the blade as she could until it was as radiant as the sun. Closing her wings, gravity brought her down into the squirming mass of the damned.

The blade came down like a shaft of sunlight splitting the darkness. A burst of glowing golden radiance spread from the point of impact and shot skywards in a pillar of pure divine power. The light spread across the hollow creatures and they burned away like paper thrown to a bonfire… yet the cries Lute heard as they burned seemed almost relieved? As magnificent as the raw power of divinity was, it couldn’t last. The column of radiance held for another second before dimming and sputtering out. Lute, much like the magic itself, trembled and fell to the ground in an exhausted heap. The magic drained her terribly. She had seen Adam use power on that scale with barely a flick of the wrist, and she appreciated how truly powerful he was. Lute, on the other hand, simply wasn't. She was merely an exorcist, and that was the absolute limit of the power she could wield, even using one of the greatest divine relics in Heaven. One blow had almost completely drained the last of her dwindling reserves, leaving her body on the edge of total shutdown.

“My my, quite the display. You little angels are full of tricks” Oh fuck, she really should have aimed that at him . A hand roughly grabbed her by the hair and yanked her screaming to eye level with the monster. Every inch of her body felt numb and weak, far too much to retaliate. She tried, at least, to lift her prosthetic hand. It responded to her thoughts, as there were no muscles to exhaust. It was a wasted attempt, The Radio Demon easily caught her wrist, and began to squeeze. Once again showing off the amplified strength of his true form, the metal of her prosthetic groaned in protest before it was compacted and crushed with all the effort of someone squeezing an empty soda can. The prosthetic hung now, just as useless as her other arm.

“I'm actually rather impressed, why, I haven't had a challenge like that in years. Riveting entertainment… but I think this show might be coming to a close.” Alastor’s grin flashed malevolently. “That being said, I do hate wasting good talent. Hmm, what to do with you?”

“J-just… ki… kill… me… you… f-fuck” Lute wheezed. She was too weak for any other protest. All that planning and all that fighting just for her to be broken and left at someone’s mercy… again. Vaggie had made the mistake of forcing unwanted mercy on Lute. This sadistic monster would surely not be such a fool. Lute was supposed to be the perfect soldier, she existed to kill Sinners like this and yet she had failed to do so repeatedly. Made about as much sense as anything in this fucked up new world she had been tossed into against her will. At least she wouldn’t have to put up with her own failures for much longer… The thought was almost comforting.

How fucking pathetic was that?

Alastor laughed as well, but she doubted it was at her self pity.

“Kill you? My dear, I would never waste a talent such as you! Not when I can get so much more entertainment out of you!” The world spun as Alastor threw her to the ground, his foot slamming into her spine with a painful crunch. Lute groaned, confused for a moment before she felt him grab onto one of her wings.

Oh… oh no… he wouldn't-

“You see, I never did get a souvenir from Extermination day and if I'm going to keep you, I need to clip these wings, Little Bird. ” Alastor pulled the wing tight in his hand and out of the corner of her eye, Lute saw him draw the blessed dagger again. Horrific realization flooded through Lute’s veins like ice. Adrenaline pumped uselessly into Lute's broken system, trying desperately to restore some functionality to her exhausted and broken body. Her prosthetic was useless, but she tried to kick her leg and claw at the ground to get away. Futile. Alastor only stomped his foot on her spine again, pushing her into the ground and making her ribs ache. There was nothing she could do.

In a terrible moment, she recalled the way Vaggie screamed when Lute had done this to her. Lute finally understood why the other angels looked at her with horror and disgust.

The blade cut into the flesh of her wings, just at the point where it connected to her back. Hissing with pain, Lute felt tears begin to flow from her eyes. Alastor was no surgeon, rather than cleanly sliding the blade through skin, he made jagged and awkward cuts as he worked his way around the base of her wing, humming to himself as he worked. Blood began to soak the back of her uniform, enough she could feel it pooling in the small of her back. The blessed steel felt searing hot as it carved away skin. Despite his haphazard hacking, the cuts were surprisingly shallow. Barely more than skin deep… that's when the demon started pulling. A strangled gasping sound left Lute's throat, her body was far beyond managing a proper scream. Lute understood something else now. What she did to Vaggie was vile… but it was also a mercy. Lute had the kindness to be quick. Alastor didn't.

He pulled and twisted her wing, increasing pressure at an awful gradual pace. Muscles pulled to their breaking point and tendons held on for dear life. The pressure was agony itself, pulling at the small tears made by the blade inch by painful inch. Lute cried out, unable to form coherent thoughts under the weight of the pain. Her brain felt numb, unable to process any thoughts beyond how much pain she was in. how much she wanted it to stop. How she would give anything, do anything to make it end. Alastor's laughter, cruel and deranged, rang in her ears and carved their own scars into the flesh of her memory. Then, with a terrible sucking pop, the bone pulled out of the joint. Lute couldn't scream, only give a pained gasp, her body shaking violently. The muscles began to rip and tear, tendons snapping like rubber bands pulled to the breaking point. With a sound that would haunt her nightmares, the wing came free, spraying golden blood all around her.

Ripping her own arm off hadn't been as awful. At least then the fallen rubble had broken bone and torn flesh to make it a blessedly quick process. Yet, she had made the mistake of thinking that pulling her arm off was the worst pain she might ever suffer. No. This was worse… and it wasn't over. 

“Aaaah, magnificent. Your voice is just as Heavenly as I’d hoped. Do sing more for me, Little Bird.” The blade jabbed into her back again, being dragged from one shoulder joint to the next, drawing a sound from her that didn’t sound remotely human or angellic. Any other time Lute might have possessed the will to resist out of pure spite, but the well had run dry. Alastor reveled in her pain, lazily dragging the blade across her skin in random patterns along her back. He might have been carving his fucking name for all Lute knew. Time lost all meaning under the Radio Demon’s blade, but after some eternity, Alastor seemed to decide he wanted to get back to the main event.

The blade sank into her other wing and it started all over again. The sharp sting of cut flesh, followed by the horrible, awful pressure.

Lute begged, she cried, she screamed. None of it mattered. If anything, it made the experience better for Alastor. It took another two minutes for mind rending pain before the other wing was torn free in a spray of blood and gore. Lute collapsed, body heaving with desperate pained sobs. She didn’t need to see it to know that the whole of her back was a mess of golden gore that even the greatest magic in Heaven would struggle to heal… not that she would make it back now. Her body was broken, but more than that, she was broken on a fundamental level.

Her wings. He took her wings. Her fucking wings.

Without her wings, how could she be an Exorcist? Be an angel? A soldier? Be anything? It wasn't fair. She'd done nothing but follow the rules all her life. Done only what she was told. Believed what she was taught to believe. It wasn't her fault that the rules suddenly changed! How was she supposed to live when everything in her life had been a lie? It wasn't her fault! Had she really deserved this? Bent and broken at a sadistic demon's mercy, who didn't have the goddamn common courtesy to kill her? It seemed too cruel even for her.

Through eyes blurred with tears, she could see Alastor as he stepped away. The Sinner hummed lightly, examining his prizes. He turned the wings this way and that, ran his fingers through her feathers and experimentally flexed the dead joints. The bastard was practically planning on how best to mount them on his wall. Lute hurt too much to be pissed.

“Please…” her voice was hoarse from screaming and the word tasted of acid on her tongue, but she was so desperate. “E-end it”

Alastor's ears twitched at her plea, turning to look down at her. He had seemed to relax from his battle frenzy and shrank back to his humanoid form. His expression, ever smiling, seemed amused. He shook his head with a little ‘tsk tsk’ as he walked over to Lute and pulled her up by the hair again. Lute had neither the strength nor the will to resist and hung limply in his grip.

“Do pay attention, dear. I did say that I have no intention of letting your talents go to waste. No no no. You are quite the little fighter afterall, I can only imagine what I might be able to do with an Angel's soul at my beck and call.” Alastor's grin grew impossibly cruel, the static rising with his words. 

“M-my… soul?” This creature thought she would give him her soul? That she would be willing to trade living for an eternity of servitude to a filthy demon? A flicker of weakness flashed in her heart, she had been so desperate for an end to pain and confusion. Lute was in desperate need of some kind of guiding light in the absence of Adam…. But this thing? He was unworthy. She may not have her wings or her dignity, but she had her pride. Shattered and broken thing that it was. She would never give him that. With all the effort she could muster, she gave him her answer.

She spat on him.

Alastor twitched as the glob of spit and golden blood struck his cheek, his smile thinning in annoyance, but not fading. With his free hand, he pulled a handkerchief from his coat and gently wiped the smudge away.

“Rude. That being said, I know it is a big decision. It would be unfair if I didn't give you some time to consider your options.” he snapped, and the ground cracked open beneath Lute, revealing that awful yawning abyss, glowing with sickly green light. Lute could see hundreds, maybe thousands, of figures crawling along the walls. The blackened hollow souls she fought before. There were legions more in that awful abyss. “Perhaps a decade with the others in the broadcast? Then I can ask you again? And, well, if I don't hear what I like then… we have a long afterlife ahead of us, my dear.”

A shiver of fear passed through Lute. She… she didn't know how to react to that. Would she be able to withstand a decade, or decades of constant torture? She saw the pained and hollow looks of those things below, remembered the sheer relief when she burned them away with holy magic. Was that her fate? To suffer until every fragment of her being breaks down and she gives up her soul to escape the pain? She couldn't imagine it. The fissure beckoned, the damned cried out to her, and the radio static hummed. Alastor smiled, seeing her struggle. His eyes turned to radio dials again, looking through the shattered remains of Lute to stare directly at her soul.

“Last chance to change your mind.” He snarled, lowering her an inch closer to the fissure. She wouldn't. She couldn't. She… she…

“I…i-i-” Lute began in a trembling voice, trying to talk around the knot in her throat. The moment of resolve she managed moments ago wavered. This was worse than disobeying the will of Heaven, worse than falling, worse than dying…. But-

“ALASTOR!” a furious voice rang out, catching their attention. Alastor let out a bestial growl, pissed at being interrupted, his head snapping around with an unholy crack that made Lute reflexively wince.

A figure marched up the driveway to the hotel with a purposeful stride, eyes glowing and expression hard… Holy shit. It was Charlie Morningstar. Flying up behind her was Vaggie and… Emily? What the fuck was she doing here?   The trio had a strange mix of expressions. Emily seemed bewildered, looking from the massive glittering facade of the hotel to the battlefield that had been made of the courtyard and driveway. Poor girl's eyes nearly bugged out of her head when she saw Lute. Vaggie was… hard to read. She seemed furious at first, recognizing Lute and gripping her spear, but as she got closer and saw the state Lute was in, her expression grew strange and her pace slowed to a stop.

The Princess, however, looked like a woman on a mission. She had already shifted to her more demonic form, and there was a smoldering fury in her eyes. It was with great confusion that Lute realized the look was directed at Alastor rather than her.

“Aaaah, Charlie, wonderful timing.” Alastor's expression softened to his usual smile, but he didn't look happy at all. He held up Lute, giving her a little shake that made her groan in pain. “I happened to catch this little bird in the act of assaulting the hotel staff. As your dutiful hotelier, I was simply going about disposing of the trash.”

“Did she kill anyone?” Charlie didn't seem placated by Alastor's words, looking from him, to Lute, then past them both. Lute could just barely see out of the corner of her eye that the injured, but very alive staff of the hotel were watching from the entryway to the building. A flicker of relief passed over Charlie’s Expression as she registered that the hotel staff was indeed still alive despite Lute’s best efforts, but The Princess’ face went firm as she turned her eyes back to the smiling demon.

“She certainly would have, if not for my timely intervention. Now, I do realize that she's made quite a mess, so if you'll just give me a second to finish up, then we can get to work on making repairs.” Alastor attempted to wave off Charlie, turning back to Lute and tightening his grip on her hair. Such was the way of things. Lute probably should have used those few extra seconds to pray, for all the good it might have done. God had never been particularly up to chat before now. What happens to angels when they die? Double Heaven? Oblivion? She hoped she’d find out soon. Maybe within the next decade. Charlie had no reason to stop her pet demon. Lute had assaulted her companions and came to kill her. The princess would probably be glad to see her spend an eternity being tortur-

“No.” Charlie said flatly, not backing down from the taller overlord.

“No?” Asked Emily, Vaggie, and Lute in an impromptu angelic chorus, staring at the princess like she was a headless chicken that had done a kick flip.

“... Pardon me?” Alastor's head rotated independently of his body, turning to glare at Charlie, his grin showing clear displeasure.

“I said ‘No’,  Alastor. She may have attacked the hotel and banged a few people up, but I'm not seeing any indication that she did anything that deserves this!” Charlie barked, gesturing at Lute's bloody body and the abyssal fissure waiting below her. Was… was the princess… defending her? What the fuck?

“Charlie, dear, she's an Exorcist. She's killed thousands of your people, tried to kill more today. This is entirely justified.”

“So has Vaggie, and frankly, so have you . I know she came here with bad intentions, but I don’t condone torture. You don't even care about what she did or who got hurt, you just want an excuse to add another soul to your collection. I know you aren't here to redeem yourself Alastor… but if you're working for my hotel , then you follow my rules. Which means, no forcing people out of their souls on my property! ” Charlie snarled up at the Radio Demon, her hair rising like flames around her. Lute could only stare, dumbstruck. Why was this happening? Why did Charlie care enough to defy this overlord? There had to be some motive. Maybe she just needed an excuse to put the Sinner in his place and assert her dominance as princess? Maybe the Princess wanted to take Lute’s soul for herself?

“... What if I called in my favor for you to let me have her?” Alastor's expression was hard to read.

“That's not how that works, our deal was so that no one came to harm.” There was hesitation there, Charlie flexing the fingers of her right hand. She had made a deal with this creature? Clearly he didn’t own her soul, but the weight of a favor from the Princess of Hell was nothing to be sneezed at. If they had a deal, Charlie would be bound to let Alastor have Lute despite her strange defiance on the subject.

“Our deal was a favor, at a time of my choosing, where you harm no one. You wouldn't have to do anything, a very easy way out of our bargain.” The Radio Demon seemed to loom over even the princess' impressive demonic statue, shadows darkening his face except for his glowing eyes and grinning teeth. Charlie hesitated again, eyes flicking to Lute for a long second. She was likely regretting making any effort towards saving the angel. The Princess idly rubbed at her neck, for a brief moment Lute swore she could see a collar of green energy around it. After a painful pause, Charlie seemed to regain some confidence and smirk.

“You're bluffing. You wouldn't waste my favor over just one soul.” Charlie crossed her arms, glaring up at the Radio Demon. 

They held in a staring contest over a pregnant pause… until the Radio Demon gave a barking laugh and relaxed his grip on Lute. The wounded angel gave a scream as she was dropped, fearing that she would fall into the chasm, but instead she crumbled into a heap on the ground harmlessly… well, mostly harmlessly.

“Well done, Charlie, very well done. Just a little test, making sure you can stick to your guns under pressure. You sure do make this old Sinner proud, finally growing a real spine.” laughing still, Alastor stepped around to pat Charlie on the back and give her a proud smile. That sounded a bit like a backhanded compliment to Lute’s ears, but she was in far too much pain to interject herself just yet. The princess didn't look entirely convinced of his reasoning, but relaxed her demonic appearance nonetheless. “Very well, Miss Charlie the intruder is all yours. I do think I need to run by the tailor again anyway.”

The Radio Demon fingered the cut Lute had made on his jacket for emphasis as she turned, subtly kicking Lute in the ribs as he did so, earning a last groan of pain to send him off. With that, he strode a few steps to reach down and pick up Lute's torn off wings. Giving a wide smile and a jaunty wave to everyone, a portal opened beneath his feet, and just like that, he was gone. Alastor’s quick change of tone in the face of Charlie’s defiance was so sudden, the quick resolution felt almost anticlimactic.

“... W-what… the fuck?” Lute wheezed, her body hurt far too much to move, yet she strained to do so anyway. Even the slightest twitch sent burning ripples of agony through her veins. She felt both too light and too heavy, her back a searing wasteland of misery. Shivering and shaking, she managed to prop herself up with her good arm, her mangled prosthetic hanging limply. The grass under her hand, once pink, was soaked gold with her blood. She stared at where Alastor had fucked off, then turned to look at the Princess.

The princess was already kneeling next to Lute, soft yellow and red eyes wide with… concern? She looked genuinely worried about Lute. Lute, who was her enemy. Who tried to kill her. Who killed her pet goat demon. Who attacked her friends and damaged her hotel. The Princess tried to reach towards her, but Lute flinched away as much as she could. 

“H-how… how can you… look at me like that?” She felt like a wounded animal, afraid to be touched…. Why did compassion seem so much more terrifying than malice?

“Like what? I just want to help, I'm not going to hurt you.” Charlie held up both her hands, going out of her way to show she didn't have claws or anything hidden up her sleeve. It would make so much more sense if she did. It would be easier if she did.

“... Came… to kill you.” Lute admitted. She didn’t know why, it hardly mattered at this point. Maybe she was just hoping to push at some crack in the facade, to prove it was a facade. There had to be something that would make the Princess snap. Yet, as much as she looked, she couldn’t find even a whisper of anger in Charlie’s eyes.

“I figured.” Charlie answered simply. At the edges of Lute’s blurring vision, she made out the forms of two angels landing on either side of Charlie. Emily looked so horrified, Lute imagined she looked pretty terrible. There was the smallest touch of anger there too, Emily realized Lute had tricked her. That reaction made sense. On the other side, Vaggie stood, spear in hand. Not pointing it at Lute, but grip tight as she was ready to use it. Vaggie’s expression was torn, eye flicking between the kneeling Charlie and Lute, caught between the urge to protect the princess and some other emotion even Vaggie couldn’t fully understand. With effort, Lute narrowed her focus on the princess, still finding no anger there.

“Why… did you… help me?” Grinding out the words, Lute did her best to glare up at the Princess. Charlie’s expression turned surprised, then introspective, as if she didn't quite know the answer either. After a few moments, she seemed to come to a conclusion and gave a small nod to herself.

“You looked scared…. Like you needed someone to save you. I just did what felt right.” Charlie answered and Lute saw it. In Charlie was a deep and endless well of kindness and compassion, the kind she had never seen even in Heaven. A heart that could forgive even the damned and the broken. Even Lute…

Lute just laughed. 

She laughed until her broken ribs ached. She laughed until she cried. Charlie seemed taken back by the response, but allowed Lute time to let it all out, placing a gentle hand on Lute's shoulder.

It was… absolutely insane. It didn't make sense. It might have made sense if Charlie said that she wanted Lute's soul. If she wanted to personally punish Lute. Hell, even if she just wanted to make it so Lute was in debt to her. Any of that might have made sense. But no. Because ‘it was the right thing to do’. 

This woman was supposed to be the Princess of Hell. Future queen of the Damned. Lute was her natural enemy. Lute had never done a single fucking kind thing to Charlie. She had opposed Charlie at every turn, insulted her, threatened to kill her, tried to kill her … and Charlie still saved her life because it felt right. Lute wanted to chalk it up to simple naivety but the genuine honesty with which Charlie had said it rattled something in Lute.

The straw that broke the camel's back.

Lute’s world was a shattered thing. Everything she had known was a lie.

Adam had taught her that Sinners were trash to be killed… yet one that he personally killed, was redeemed to Heaven. 

Heaven was supposed to be a symbol of all that was good and right in the world, angels didn't make mistakes… yet the high Seraphim had admitted she was wrong in court. 

Sinners were supposed to be evil, hateful and careless…. Yet she had seen them risk their lives to help each other and the hotel they cared about.

The Princess of Hell was supposed to have every right to hate her… yet Lute owed her life to her now.

Lute was a soldier at heart. She lived by the laws she was given. She did not question, she did not betray those laws… yet she had violated direct orders to run a suicide mission because she was too fucking scared to face the facts.

“What… the fuck am I doing.” Lute hung her head, struggling to breathe between desperate sobs. She didn't want to do this anymore. She didn't want to have to think. Didn't want to hurt. Didn't want to live a lie. Nothing made sense. The world was wrong. How was the world wrong? How was she supposed to know what to do? The rest of the world didn’t even seem to know what the fuck was happening anymore, who the fuck was Lute to be trying to figure anything out?

Charlie gently squeezed her shoulder, making Lute look up at her; making her see that horrible, terrifying, warm, honest compassion in her eyes.

Charlie. Charlotte Morningstar. Princess of Hell. Charlie had… rank over Lute. Lute was a soldier, she obeyed the orders of those who outranked her, let them do the thinking. Charlie wasn't technically part of a hierarchy that Lute was involved in, but the broken angel was desperate for a thread to hold latch onto. Anything to keep her out of the abyss.

“What… do I do? Please … tell me… what to do.” shaking and sobbing, Lute begged the princess through tears. Charlie’s eyes widened with surprise, but her expression softened, raising her hand from Lute's shoulder to gently poke Lute in the forehead.

“How about we start with getting some rest?” Charlie suggested, a small glimmer of magic sparking between Lute's forehead and the Princess' finger. Immediately a soothing numbness flowed over Lute's body and filled every inch of her being. Her strength left her, and blessed sleep overtook the broken angel as she dropped into the Princess’ waiting arms.

Chapter Text

The broadcast buzzed faintly, glitching and acting erratically as the camera panned to follow Alastor as the Radio Demon leaned down to pick up the pair of bloody angel wings. For a moment, the Radio Demon turned his eyes to look directly at what was supposed to be a hidden camera. Alastor's face looking dead on into the feed nearly made it lose signal, becoming a jumbled mess of dead pixels and erratic electronic hissing. When it finally cleared, it was just in time to see the Radio Demon drop into a portal and disappear. After that, the feed snapped back into crystal clear 4k quality…. But the genre of the scene was rapidly shifting from action movie to tragic drama.

“ Fuuhuuuhuck , I hate it when he wins.” Vox groaned dramatically, leaning back against the couch. With a gesture, the feed muted itself, Vox couldn't give a shit about princess rainbow sparkle and a crying angel. He'd almost respected the crazy bob cut Angel until she turned into a sobbing mess. Soap opera bullshit. What a disappointing ending, but oh well. His mind, as it often did, was more focused on the Radio Demon. That vain vintage venison shit lord always seemed to come out on top. It vexed Vox to no end. The mere thought of Alastor had Vox’s circuits overclocking with rage.

“Oi! Easy with the static, it's bad for my hair.” complained Velvette, who was lying with her head in his lap. As usual, she was more concerned with tapping away at her phone than watching the broadcast. Vox grumbled a light apology, he did tend to let off static electricity when he got pissed. Running his fingers through Velvette’s hair did quite a bit to calm him down, as well as get a pleased giggle from her. Velvette hadn't bothered styling her hair via traditional or magical means due to having no public appearances today, thus it had reverted to its natural fluffy and curly state. Velvette could wear a thousand different hairstyles, use a thousand different methods to style it, but no matter what she did it always came back to fluffy curls. She complained about it often, but Vox liked it. He quite enjoyed the feel of it, idly twisting a red and white curl around his finger.

“The knocking heads part was funny at least.” Valentino purred, taking a drag and blowing out a twisting trail of pink smoke. The tall moth overlord was lounging on the armchair next to the couch… and kicking his feet up on the coffee table again. Val should know by now how much that annoyed Vox. Was it that much of a big fucking ask that Val not put his dirty boots on the table. Dirt and dust had bothered Vox when he was alive, but it was so much worse in his second life. Simple dust getting in his circuits could quickly turn into an all day problem. Completely oblivious to Vox’s agitation, Valentino had only been half paying attention at best, predictably  having lost interest after Angel Dust was no longer on screen. 

“That was... pretty good. Man, his expression was priceless.” Vox chuckled, that was a memory he was going to carve into the back of his brain. He’d have to shake that angel’s hand if she survived the night. The fucking Radio Demon being knocked on his ass over a simple headbutt? Alastor would never live it down if Vox had anything to say about it.

“Gonna upload it? Smiles crackin' skulls with an Exorcist could go viral.” Velvette hummed, giving her phone a little wiggle at the suggestion.

“Wish I could, but I can't. Bastard's ugly mug fucks with digital footage something fierce, gets worse on replay if you believe it. Data would be totally corrupt after a few dozen views. Potential for a ‘bonk’ meme aside, the 5 to 6 minutes if watching him torture an Exorcist would only boost his reputation. We'll keep this one to ourselves.” He was only able to upload the last Extermination video because Alastor wasn't in 90% of it, which made the data corruption manageable with editing a few black bars over his face. This time, Alastor was center stage for over half the fight, so it wouldn't be worth fighting for. 

Though, for his own amusement, he rewound the footage back several minutes to the headbutting. Even though the feed buzzed irritably at having to show Alastor again, a mental command played various sound effects over the course of the five headbutts. Naturally ending with the taco bell ‘Bong’ over the last one that put the pick on his ass. The screen buzzed with dead pixels, but it was worth it by the way it made Velvette and Valentino laugh.

“Shame though, watching the big bad Radio Demon play sub to the Princessa might get some rumors going~” Valentino purred, blowing a heart ring with his smoke. “You know how much Alastor hates that kind of thing.”

“Bellend, anyone with a brain can see he's just playing along to stay on her good side.” Velvette snapped at Val with a glare, but the moth just gave an unbothered shrug. She looked back to Vox with an expression of concern, rare for her. “You heard what he said though, yeah?”

“I did. Not happy about it. Not one fucking bit.” Vox ground his teeth with the sound of glass grinding together. They were too late, Alastor did have a deal with the Princess. An upsettingly vague one. It wasn't for her soul, thank the powers that be, but still. A favor from the Princess of Hell was no small thing. Many people underestimated Charlie Morningstar, but Vox was no fool. In the last extermination, he'd seen her rival the First Man himself in power. Not to mention her political reach, a favor from her could extend to getting the services of royal demons, the Deadly Sins and even Lucifer himself. Cleverly worded, a ‘small’ favor from Charlotte Morningstar could literally move mountains. “I'll have to look into it. He's up to something. Maybe if I can figure out what he's been doing for the last seven years, I could get a clue.”

Vox flicked an eye towards his conspiracy board in the corner, outlining what he could put together about Alastor's plans. It was distressingly empty, though he had thrown a few darts at the old torn photograph of Alastor yesterday. He just sighed, annoyed and defeated. Vox hated not knowing things. Alastor was incredibly frustrating to plan around. Information gathering had become so easy in the digital age, but Alastor had no online presence. Vox had gotten complacent about his investigative skills. As much as he valued progress, if he wanted to get ahead of the man who was allergic to innovation, then Vix might need to get old school himself. Ask questions, hire investigators and spies, comb the rumor mill. Someone had to know something about where Alastor had been. Husk and Niffty were always too close to the man to get alone and likely sworn to secrecy by their contracts even if they knew something. By all reports, Rosie had seemed just as confused and surprised by his sudden return… Also, Rosie did not fucking like Vox and was likely to keep her mouth shut even if she knew anything. There was Mimzy, but she didn’t seem like a safe person to confide secrets in, not to mention a woman who spent her days fleeing an army of debtors was rather annoying to track down.

Dead end after dead end. Alastor had an annoyingly small group of friends and kept almost everything shut behind that infernal fucking grin of his.

“Nothing to do about Alastor for now… Though I think we should start worrying about the Princess and her hotel. They could evolve into a problem if we aren’t careful.” Vox mused, petting Velvette's hair again.

“Why, afraid they're going to interfere with business?” Val asked

“Heheh Val, are you paying attention at all, or did you miss the fact they probably just recruited another ex-Exorcist?” Voice glitching with barely restrained annoyance, Vox gestured at the screen, restoring it to the live feed. Even muted, Vox could tell the conversation had played out with about as much drama as those spanish soap operas that Velvette was strangely addicted to. The Princess was now carrying an unconscious but seemingly still alive angel back into the hotel, her former Exorcist girlfriend flying off to make an inspection of the battered hotel grounds. Squinting, Vox noticed a figure with them he didn't recognize. Gray skinned girl in a puffy dress with startlingly bright blue eyes. He did a quick mental scan of his database of important players in Hell but got no hits. Based on how squeamish she seemed, stepping around puddles of glowing golden blood, she was probably some new arrival the Princess sold on the redemption schtick. No one important.

“So what? Now that we can kill them, those bitches are old news.” pulling out his favorite pink and zebra patterned pistol, Val spun the weapon around his finger. Did he have that the whole time or literally pull it out of his ass? Vox didn't want to know.

“These two are different than regular Exorcists. Again, if you'd been paying attention, you'd realize that the bitch with the bob cut beat Angel, Cherri bomb a known territory boss, Husk and Nifty, former overlords and then proceeded to give fucking Alastor a run for his money.” Vox snapped his fingers, the feed switching to a view of the last Extermination. A show of a personal fight between the Princess’s girlfriend and this other angel. Vox’s attention, of course, was drawn to the cat fight. Predictable. “And the Princess’ girlfriend beat her. Compared to what we’ve seen other Exorcists do during regular Exterminations and last month’s fight, they might as well be fucking super soldiers. If the Princess gets those two working together, that could be an overlord level threat. Even I don’t fucking know what happens to angels in Hell, for all we know, they might turn into fucking Fallen Angels and get stronger or some shit.”

“Honestly, seems like most of the power came from that guitar.” Velvette observed without looking up from her phone.

“Hmm…” Vox considered that, the screen shifting and splitting. It now showed side by side feeds of the angel strumming the guitar loud enough to physically hurt Alastor and using it to call down a pillar of holy light brighter than the fucking sun. his circuits buzzed unpleasantly at the very idea of getting caught in either attack. He had never seen any kind of Exorcist pull off that kind of shit. It looked like lesser versions of the magic that the First man had casually thrown around last Extermination. “You might have a point. Think we can steal it?” 

“Sadly no. See how it poofs into her hand and shit? That's an Angelic relic. A lot rarer than the usual Exorcist stuff. They bond to their wielder, till death do you part style. So to steal it-” Velvette explained, gesturing for Vox to fill in the blanks.

“We'd have to kill her, and if she's under the Princess’ protection, we'd be starting the very fight I'm worried about.” Vox sighed, Velvette giving a little ‘pew’ with a finger gun to prove he was right on the money. Shame, it was a pretty cool guitar and a powerful weapon. Honestly, Vox had never seen its equal outside of a few rare occasions that Royal demons showed off old family weapons during televised interviews… wait a damn second. “When exactly did you become an expert on angelic weapons?”

“Oh… a girl has her ways. It's my job to know things, innit?” Velvette suddenly became very interested in her phone, avoiding looking at Vox or Valentino. Vox wasn't convinced, but he lost his chance to question her further when Valentino spoke up.

“I don't see the issue. If you're worried about the Hotel being a problem, we can just go smash it. We gave Alastor a good pounding , we can take the Princess and her angels too. Honestly, it's about time I got Angel Dust off that little redemption kick.” Valentino’s smug smile turned to a sadistic grin. “If we go now, they're already half beaten and you know Alastor usually hides for a good long while after getting scratched up. Quick and easy, no sense in playing fair with these uppity whores.”

“If only it were so fucking simple. I'd rather not start a fight with the Princess, two angels, and three other overlords today, thank you very little. A bit early for all out war in Hell.” 

“Not that I'm agreeing with Val, but Husk and Niffty don't exactly count anymore, what with Alastor owning them and all.” Velvette added, while she did have a point that the pair had fallen from grace, it wasn't what Vox meant.

“Not those hazbins. Fucking Rosie and Carmine. Rosie and Alastor go way back and only cemented their alliance with the Princess rallying the cannibals last month. Not to mention Carmilla taking more than a passing interest in Miss Morningstar, she personally armed everyone at the battle for minimal recompense. Both women have something of a reputation about jumping in to protect anyone they consider an ally.” As Vox explained this, Velvette sat up out of his lap, face suddenly serious 

“Carmilla doesn't take sides in Overlord conflicts. One of the only good things about her is the bitch is aggressively neutral.” Velvette even put her phone down, she was weirdly attentive over this Carmilla thing. Vox knew Velvette could get in a bit of a mood when it came to the old fashioned weapons dealer, especially after their last argument at the Overlord meeting, but this seemed excessive.

“Yeah, she even sells to Zestial’s enemies, and we all know what those two get up to behind closed doors.” Val laughed, making a lewd gesture that made Velvette’s face scrunch like she sucked a lemon.

“Don't be fucking gross Val! Nobody wants to imagine that spidery fossil getting kinky.” Velvette growled.

“Down Velvette, chill. Damn. And you complain about my murder boner for Alastor. You know I don't say what I can't prove.” Vox flicked his wrist, a series of documents appearing on the screen. “If Carmine isn't shacking up with the Morningstars, then why is she grabbing up a half dozen buildings so close to the Hotel? Carmine never makes this kind of investment unless she’s thought through every possible angle, so this can’t be any kind of coincidence.”

The documents were a mix of bills of sale and early stage construction contracts, all plucked from the city database. Vox didn't yet know what they were for, because while Sinners in Hell liked to keep track of who owned what building, there were no requirements to get things like permits or business licenses. People just kind of built whatever, wherever and naturally there was no OSHA in Hell. Buildings were usually blown up and rebuilt so often, nobody even gave a passing thought to safety regulations. Construction crews never went poor in Hell. Velvette seemed furious, eyes scanning through the dense legalese of the documents, looking for some clue 

“Mmm, don't know Vox. The Morningstars don’t do much actual business. I know enough about buying property to know that it's a pain in the ass and it's better to leave it to people like you. Better you wade through that bullshit than me. They probably just asked Carmilla to help them buy some property because she's good at that kind of thing and they'd owe her a favor. Occam’s Dong or whatever.” Val shrugged, not even bothering to glance at the documents.

Velvette and Vox just stared at him, slowly blinking.

“Occam’s what?” Vox asked 

“Occam’s dong, that thing you said about, like, ‘simple solutions usually being correct’ or whatever.” Valentino gestured vaguely. Vox’s eye twitched and glitched erratically.

“Occam’s Razor , you fucking- mmmhmm hah…” Vox bit his digital tongue, dragging a hand down his face, wishing he still had a nose to pinch the bridge of. The agonies of a flat screen. He took a deep breath, mentally shoving Valentino’s oversexed idiot brain out of his thoughts with considerable effort. At minimum, the distraction of Valentino’s blazing stupidity had shaken Velvette out of whatever weird fixation she’d had over the Carmine issue. “Word choice aside… you might actually have a point, weirdly enough. I miiight be being paranoid. Either way, no assault today, better to just keep an eye on things for now.”

Valentino gave a long and dramatic groan, clearly having been in the mood to shoot something. The pimp could be obscenely trigger happy, but at least he seemed convinced to leave well enough alone for now. The tall moth demon rose from his chair and gave a big stretch, flexing out his wings before refolding them into his usual coat.

“Fine fine, if weren’t not going to actually shoot anyone, then I need to get ready for tomorrow's porn shoot. Because of that royal bitch, Angel Dust isn’t in the studio as much anymore, so I need to milk that twink for all he’s worth while I have him.” he said, taking a drag on his cigarette stick as he turned to walk away. Vox frowned slightly, exchanging a look with Velvette.

“Oi, Val, Angel kinda took a beating, shouldn’t you reschedule or something?” Velvette asked

“The twink literally got curb stomped, dude’s face is jacked.'' Vox added. Valentino just paused at the door, glancing over his shoulder at them, then he simply shrugged.

“That’s what the makeup department is for, darlings~” he answered before slipping out the door.

Vox and Velvette sat on the couch, looking after him for a long moment. They gave each other another meaningful look before shaking their heads. 

None of the Vees were saints, none of them tried to be. They were quite the opposite actually, it was required to get shit done in Hell. Vox and Velvette were quick to punish anyone who disobeyed them or failed to perform under expectation, often with deadly force. Bad as that sounded, in Hell, Death wasn’t the worst punishment you could put a person through considering most people came back after a few hours unless you wasted a holy bullet on them. Valentino though, more often than not his wrathful abuses of the staff didn’t even have good reason behind it nor was it limited to just his department. All too often Valentino would tear through a cast of models or a roomful of coders just because he was in a bad mood. Outside of the bloody wrath he extended to Vel and Vox’s staff, the way he treated his own staff often left a bad taste in the mouth for entirely different reasons than blood and gore. Vox had made a few vain attempts to reel Valentino in with concern to his erratic behavior messing with the Vees professional reputation but had mostly given up. The presence of Angel Dust had been a blessing and a curse. Mostly in the fact that when Angel was around he tended to absorb most of Val’s attention be it positive or negative… but when Angel Dust wasn’t around, Val’s obsession with the gangly pornstar brought out the worst in him. Fucking annoying. Vox didn’t exactly care about people getting hurt, he just wanted a peaceful work environment. Was that too much to ask?

Desperate to make his own peace before he blew a fuse, Vox relaxed back into the couch with Velvette reassuming her position of laying on her lap and tapping away at her phone. Not wanting to think further of Valentino for now, Vox held up his hands. The monitors responded, switching to a variety of different programs, documents, and video feeds. Vox began his usual hobby of multitasking and micromanaging all the various businesses and functions that the Vees controlled, putting on some of Velvette’s favorite music as background noise while he worked. To anyone else, the massive flow of information that poured from every inch of the Vee empire might have been overwhelming. For Vox, it was actually rather soothing. The flow of numbers and data was his muse and making sense of the chaos brought a gentle calm like no other.

“Remind me why we keep him?” she asked, working to type up some memo that was going out to the staff, notifying her department of the needed preparations for an upcoming show.

“He’s easy. Easy to manipulate, easy to get into bed, and easy to profit off. He might be annoying, but we need his power.” Vox mumbled, eyes darting around the various screens, hands making small gestures to manipulate things. 

“He wasn’t my first choice for the team.” Velvette grumbled. She tolerated Val and occasionally made use of him when convenient, but she was often pissed with Valentino… especially after his temper tantrums tended to result in her models getting the axe at extremely inconvenient times. Vox just hummed in reply. Valentino hadn’t been his first choice either… but that ship had sailed. The creation of their group had been the only way to really compete in Hell, each of them had only been minor Overlords but working together made them stronger than any individual… except maybe Zestiel, but nobody wanted to test exactly how powerful that spidery freak was. 

For the sake of power, they had to put up with Val’s quirks. There were worse deals in Hell.

“On a different topic, what's your take on the hotel situation? Should we be concerned or am I overthinking it?” Vox asked. In contrast to Valentino’s overt stupidity, Velvette was probably one of the smartest people he'd ever had the pleasure of working with. Her ability to analyze trends and read people was unparalleled, making her the ultimate social media manager. Her opinion was one he would always listen to.

Velvette was quiet for a few moments, clicking off her phone and setting it to the side. Something she only did when actually deep in thought, so it was a good sign she was taking his question seriously. She chewed on her thoughts for a few seconds before replying.

“Think it will only be a problem if we make it a problem. The Princess may have a lot of personal and connections and power, but you’d know better than me that she doesn’t fucking use them. She’s not the controlling type. If somethin’ hits the hotel, it’ll hit back hard but otherwise, if we don't poke the bear then its a non-issue. On the Business side, they aren’t competing with our areas much. Likely any idiot that actually thinks they can get ‘redeemed’ has already sworn off most of our products. Little to no loss in customers.” Velvette shrugged, clicking her phone back on and getting back to her scrolling. “Could write them off completely if not for Alastor. That mad prick isn’t cozyin' up to some of the most powerful people in Hell just for fun. It's clear he’s not buying the Princess’ redemption thing either. He might only have a favor for now, but who knows what he can stretch that out into. Even worse if he actually gets into Daddy’s good graces. Smiles is up to something for sure.”

“Hmmm. so, just keep things down to observation for now?” Vox asked, getting a nod. It would certainly be easier to just clean potential issues like Alastor and the hotel off the board before they became a threat, but the threat of pissing off the literal devil wasn’t worth it. Velvette was right as usual. The Hotel itself was not an issue, but Alastor’s influence over it could very well become one. “At the very least, do you think we should run a smear campaign to discredit it, keep its popularity down?”

“Not right now. It's too early for that kind of thing. Everybody knows that it was us that released all the footage of the battle at the hotel, which gave them a shitload of free publicity. If we start trying to discredit them so soon, it’ll make us look inconsistent, do more damage to our reputation than theirs. The princess was lobbying for some media attention at their grand opening next week, but after that fight it's probably delayed. Whenever they do the opening, we can slip a few of our reporters and spies in, control the tone of the event and get some cameras on the inside. Take it from there.”

“Have I mentioned I love the way your mind works?” Vox smiled, adding some reminders to his personal calendar to do just that. He would have to do a better job of selecting a spy this time around, the old snake had been a goddamn embarrassment not worth the price of the smart watch he borrowed.

“You have. I’m bloody brilliant.” Velvette said with a pleased little hum. 

With that business settled, Vox worked in silence for a while. Though the room was quiet and peaceful, due to the fact Vox had trained himself to pay attention to multiple things at once, he couldn’t help but notice Velvette was still in a foul mood. Usually talking shop and a few compliments were enough to get her over any lingering resentment for Val’s stupidity so it had to be something deeper. If it wasn’t Valentino bothering her, then that left one alternative. Mentally bracing himself, he put a few operations on hold and tilted his screen to look down at her.

“The Carmine situation really got to you, huh?” Vox asked, and based on the way Velvette started, he hit the nail on the head.

“No! Well…I dunno, maybe. Just doesn’t make sense. It's not like her to take a definite side in anything. Especially not kissing up to the fucking Royal family. What if Lucifer tells her to stop selling Angelic weapons to other overlords or something” Velvette’s expression held a mix of emotions that were hard to parse.

“Sinners make up two-thirds of her client base, I doubt she’s going to just give up that market.” Vox shrugged

“She might if the King of Hell asks her to. I just… I don’t like it. Need to look into it, get some stuff together and figure it out for myself.” There was more going on than Velvette was saying, and Vox knew it. They locked eyes, and Vox raised an eyebrow. An invitation to tell him exactly what her issue was. Velvette opened her mouth, but then just let out a sigh and picked up her phone again. “Maybe another time Vox… just… leave this one for me, yeah?”

He looked down at her for a few seconds, before giving a small nod and turning his head back up to resume working.

Vox was in the business of information. He liked to know everyone’s secrets. Their strengths, weaknesses, and how to control them. If it were anyone else, he’d have set about digging up dirt as soon as they were out of direct eyesight… but for Velvette he would make an exception. Only for her.

—

Adam died.

It fucking sucked.

The first time had been bad enough. Seriously, dying of old age was fucking miserable. The worst part of it was that nobody had fucking warned him! God or any of the angels could have at least mentioned that he came with an expiration date. Honestly, it was a major design flaw. They know how to make immortal angels, why not immortal humans?... Well, Heaven was a pretty good consolation prize. The Angels treated him like royalty up there. 10,000 years of kicking it back and having it good. Being famous, playing gigs, getting a personal army of hot babes, slaughtering demons and having a good fucking time.

Adam had the world in the palm of his hand… then one little brat starts preaching her kindergarten happy sappy ‘redemption’ bullshit and everything spirals out of fucking control. That last Extermination was a goddamn disaster. Unfair bullshit. His ex-wife’s crotchspawn ended up packing way more of a punch than she had any pacifist goody goody had any right to… Then fucking Lucifer descends from on high to ruin his life again. Made him look like a fucking idiot in front of everyone.

The cherry on that particular shit cake of a day was that as soon as princess sparklefluff convinces daddy dearest to stop beating the absolute dogshit out of him… He gets stabbed by a mentally ill cockroach. A lot. At least if Lucifer killed him he might have gone out with some dignity. Cool epic showdown and all that shit. But no. 1950s looking ass deranged midget going absolute stab happy on his colon. Fucking lame dude.

He didn't deserve that shit.

Right?

Of course he didn’t. He was the first fucking man. The embodiment of God’s design. He worked his fucking ass off when he was alive. Got the ball rolling on mankind. He invented fucking everything. Farming, hunting, tools, instruments, all that shit. He fucking invented inventing things! He had faced as much or more hardship than any human in history. Adam earned his afterlife and didn’t deserve any of this shit.

And sure, maaaybe he didn’t get everything right on the first try when he was alive. He had to figure out everything from scratch. Life for him and Eve was rough as shit after getting chased out of Eden. Lots of trial and error. Some things worked, some didn’t…

Like parenting…

Abel had turned out fine, mostly fine. Kid was kind of a braggart but otherwise a good kid. Took care of the animals really well and all that. Cain… well… In hindsight, Adam probably could have handled that situation better. It wasn’t entirely Cain’s fault. He was a sweet kid, it's not like he knew murder was even a thing that could happen. The kid was just upset, he hadn’t wanted to actually kill his brother. At the time though, Adam had just lost a son and he ended up sending his other son away. Maybe they should have talked or some shit, but parenting books weren’t exactly a thing at the time. That had been the point when things started to really go downhill. Convincing Eve to have another kid didn’t really save their marriage either. Seth turned out alright in the end, and did a few important things. Kid could have used a better PR team though, he often got forgotten compared to his older brothers.

Relationships had been hard too, though he mostly blamed that on the burden of Free Will. What a shitshow that turned out to be. He’d been happy as a clam in the garden without it.

To this day, he still didn’t get how Lilith ended up with it. She didn’t even eat the stupid apple, she must have just been stuck with it as a fucking defect. ‘Perfect design’ Adam’s ass, God made plenty of mistakes. Horses were proof of that. Adam and Lilith had fought like cats and dogs from day one. Hot as hell, stubborn as a brick. They still couldn’t get along thousands of years later, even her negotiating a deal to get out of Hell had nearly resulted in an argument that nearly leveled the embassy. Fucking bitch.

Eve though… Eve had been different. She was the woman , in more ways than one. Maybe it was because she had been literally made for him or if she was just destined to be awesome. The details didn’t matter. Eve was kind, funny, wonderful but unfortunately curious. Sure, the Angels had intended Adam and Lilith to be together, but there was never anything between them. With Eve, Adam had understood what love really was. It was something that made biting the apple worth it. Made getting kicked out of Eden worth it. Made everything worth it because he wasn't alone. Even if it wasn't perfect, Even if they argued… Eve had been more than he deserved.

Thousands of years of hindsight had been a real kick in the teeth. Despite how much he loved Eve, he had messed things up between them when he was alive. Cain and Abel had only been the start of it. There were other things, a lot of other things. Adam had been stoked when he learned the Afterlife was a thing. Perfect clean slate for he and Eve to start over. He would do better, treat her right, make up for his mistakes. He spent a decade sitting by the pearly gates waiting for her…

But Eve never came. She just disappeared. He'd asked and gotten no answers, again and again. Apparently he had missed a whole war between Heaven and Hell while he was alive, Lucifer and Lilith apparently took offense at the whole ‘banished to Hell' thing as punishment for their colossal fuck up. Because of that there was no communication or travel between Heaven and Hell, things were chaotic, little details fell through the cracks and a bunch of other bullshit excuses. His wife was not a fucking minor detail. 

Practically the whole reason he eventually agreed to take on the whole ‘Extermination’ gig for Sera was just for an excuse to go to Hell and look for her. Yet, he never found her. She was just… gone and it was something Adam never really got over.

Eventually he moved on. There were other women. Thousands of them, literally, but none of them were Eve.

And then there was Lute. he really should have done something about that. Her feelings had been pretty obvious. Always doing whatever he wanted, hanging around him, trying to impress him. Lute was a lot of things, subtle was not one of them. It wasn’t the first time one of the Exorcists ended up catching feelings for him. He’d indulge her affections, after all, why not? There was no denying she was hot, he sculpted those tits himself… but he knew she wanted more, and he just couldn’t find it within himself to give her that. It was one of the few things he genuinely regretted. Adam did care about Lute, she was probably one of the only real friends he’d had in thousands of years. She looked so damn heartbroken when he died.

It was kinda nice knowing that someone would actually miss him when he was gone.

Because he was gone. Dead as dust and stuck in whatever counted as the after-afterlife. Though calling it that was a bit of a generous description. Wherever the Hell he was now, well it wasn’t… it wasn’t. Plain and simple. Nothing to see, nothing to do, nothing to touch or feel. Just him, his thoughts, and the void. Being alone with his thoughts sucked major dong. When you have nothing to do but think, all the bad thoughts start creeping in from the back of your mind. Probably the reason for this bullshit self reflective monologue. Goddamn, he’d probably have gone entirely crazy if not for the music.

…

Wait… Music? 

Why was there music in the void? Had there been music the whole time? He was pretty sure there hadn’t been whenever he first ‘woke up’ but honestly that was hard to define. Adam wasn’t exactly sure when his consciousness had really awoken in this place or how long he had been in it. Still, now that he was actually listening to it, he could pick out some incredibly faint music that had either started playing at some point or had been there the whole time and he was just now consciously noticing it. It felt so… familiar. Adam had a good ear for music. As he strained to focus on the incredibly quiet sound he began to pick out a rhythm, distinct notes. No instruments, just someone singing. No lyrics, just rising and falling notes.

No… no way. It can’t be.

Holy shit. Holy shit, it is.

He knew that song. It wasn’t just any song, it was the song. The first one. The lullaby. An ancient memory shot up from deep in his subconscious, crisp, clear, painful and warm. The first few years out of Eden were hard living. Building a home for themselves from scratch, having to fight off predators, figure out things like construction and farming… and Eve dealing with the first pregnancy. They had managed to scrape by, working themselves to the bone everyday, by the time the twins were born they had finally settled into something of a comfortable routine. Not an easy life yet, but they had food and a roof over their head. Just in time for the new challenge that was parenthood. Amidst the chaos of it all, Adam had made the first instrument. It wasn’t much, just a few strings of catgut tied onto a curved stick. He’d found the strings made a funny noise when he used them to make a bow and arrow. That noise kind of reminded him of the way the angels used to sing. Even better, he had found his first fumbling attempts at music usually helped settle the twins down to sleep. Usually.

Cain and Abel were being especially fussy tonight and Adam just wanted to get some fucking sleep. His own eyes were starting to droop as he lazily plucked at the strings. Then, there she was, Eve to the rescue. She looked just as tired as him, but still she walked over and knelt by the kid’s bed mat. Then she began to sing, just like the angels had. Improvised at first, but soon she began to match the notes made by the plucking strings. Together, they formed a melody. A song. A song that was carved into Adam’s heart that he would never, ever forget.

Shit, was he crying? He didn’t even know he could cry in the fucking void.

Fuck, wait, if he could cry then that meant he had eyes. If he could hear music, he must have ears. If he had ears and eyes, he must still have a body! It took far more effort than it should to feel anything… but he began to manage it. The feeling of his fingers rubbing together, of his limbs moving, of his mouth opening and closing. Even if he couldn’t see anything in this black abyss, he had a body so that meant there had to be an up and down, a left and right and all that mess. Adam began working through trial and error, focusing on the sensation of his own body and the sound of that music. He had no idea how long it took, but he began to get a sense of direction. There was a point where the music was just slightly louder. He strained to move towards it, willing his body in the direction. He wasn’t exactly sure when the change happened, but Adam found himself running towards the sound. His feet ran over something that sounded like glass or maybe obsidian. Then it changed, more solid. Stone. Then dirt. Then grass.

All at once, Adam's vision returned into an explosion of color. He was running through a lush forest… no, not just any forest, he knew these trees. That was absolutely impossible, but it was as real as the grass under his feet. He was fucking back! He didn't even need the song to guide him as instinctively his feet found an old footpath leading him deeper into the forest. Right to the heart of the Garden of Eden.

As he exploded through the brush into a clearing, he found himself back where it all began. Man, he'd forgotten how big that tree was. The tree at the center of the Garden. Where he had his first fight with Lilith, where she met Lucifer, where they convinced Eve to eat that stupid apple.

And there she was.

A woman knelt among the massive roots, softly singing to herself as the wind blew her hair. It was Eve. She was different, of course, but he knew it was her. She'd become a Sinner. Only made sense, she had committed the first Sin after all. Her skin had gone a ghostly pale, cracked with black veins. Once brown hair had gone black as night, with a strange smoke-like texture. He could see flashes of fanged canines as she sang, the glint of claws on her fingers. She sang with her eyes closed, but slowly opened them at the sound of him crashing into the clearing, they were red as blood, with pale white pupils… and they filled with tears at the sight of him. 

“A-Adam?” Her voice was the same. And God, it was the most wonderful thing he'd heard in thousands of years.

Adam cleared the distance between them in seconds and fell into her arms, sobbing like some sappy crybaby bitch. He didn't give a damn. His hands instinctively knew the shape of her body. It was her. His Eve. After so, so long. Drawing back, he looked into her eyes. They had been green once but who cares about that shit? she looked at him, equally overcome with emotion. She had missed him as much as he missed her. They met in the middle, kissing for the first time in eons. It was perfect, perfect as the first time. There might be something to that ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder' shit .

The weight of thousands of years dropped from Adam’s shoulders as he picked her up and spun her around, the sound of her bubbly laughter breathed new life into him. Normally it would be uncool to cry, but this was a special fucking occasion. 

“Eve!  It's you! It's really you!! Oh baby, I missed you. Fuck, I-i looked everywhere for you. Heaven AND Hell. God had fucked off by the time I got up to Heaven and the angels aren’t worth shit. Nobody would tell me what happened to you.” he pulled her back against him, holding on as tightly as he dared. There was still a chance this shit was some kind of hyper vivid dream… but it felt real. She felt real. That was all that mattered.

“I know, Adam… I know. Oh, it's so good to see you.” Eve managed, struggling to wipe away her own tears as she looked up at Adam with that smile he had missed so much. “I lived a bit longer after you died, but not much and then I… well…” Eve looked down, shame in her eyes as she looked at the pointed tips of her blackened fingers. “I guess taking the first bite had some unforeseen consequences. I fell. The first Sinner. I was… Well, I was worried you wouldn’t want me anymore. Now that I’m like this.”

Eve looked up at him with those red and white eyes, so different from the ones he knew… but she still looked like Eve, sounded like Eve, acted like Eve. As far as he was concerned, nothing had changed.

“Honestly babe, I think you’re kinda rocking the goth look.” he laughed, getting that smile to come back to her face. “Even before now, I just wanted to see you. Apologize for all the things I fucked up, just give us another chance… I just can’t believe you’ve been in Hell this whole time. I mean, I know it was a few thousand years late, but I fucking looked around every time I got down here. I knew those assholes were lying to me.” Adam growled. He’d asked Lucifer and Lilith dozens of times if they knew what happened to Eve, but never got a good answer. At best a few times they had insinuated that she had appeared in Hell but then ‘mysteriously disappeared’ and they hadn’t seen her for thousands of years. That explained that shitty quip Lucifer made during their fight. Seriously, he expected getting lied to by the fucking Devil but Lilith? Yeah, they hated each other but the whole reason he agreed to let that bitch into Heaven was because she claimed she was trying to research what happened to Eve. Fucking bullshit.

“Well, when I arrived, Hell was kind of a mess.” Eve smiled as she began to explain, patting his chest and guiding him to sit down on one of the roots. She rested her head against his chest in that familiar way and he couldn’t resist running his fingers through her hair. It was kinda strange, void black and it turned to smoke towards the end, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant to feel. “Luci and Lily let me stay with them. I tried to ask about getting a message to Heaven but apparently there was this whole war we missed and Luci said Heaven wasn’t willing to talk to him no matter what it might have been about.”

“So, how did you go from hanging with the Devil to being back in Eden?” Adam asked, looking around at the tree and the forest. It was exactly as he remembered. Even 10,000 years later, no one could forget The Garden. The only difference was the fact that the place seemed to be… underground, based on the looming cave seeing high above.

“It is pretty convincing, huh? But no, this place isn’t Eden. the only thing original is the tree. They replanted it down here. Don’t ask me how. Everything else, well, its just recreation from my memory. I can control how everything looks, except the tree.” Eve explained, running a hand over one of the thick roots. “Eden just felt like home but we are still in Hell, tucked away in some corner of the Pride Ring.”

“Uuuh… I don’t get it. I mean, call me stupid but-”

“Stupid.” Eve interjected with a cocky grin.

“Funny.” Adam rolled his eyes but still smirked. “But, I’ve been to Hell hundreds of times. I think I would have run into you or a full scale model of Eden at some point. Do you just not get out anymore or what?” He asked, but Eve immediately gave him ‘The Look’. The one she used whenever he was acting dumb. A unique mix of amusement and exasperation. He'd seen that look a lot.

“I haven’t exactly been a social butterfly, no.” still giving him the look, Eve held up her hands. For the first time he noticed a pair of pitch black manacles around her wrists with chains drooping down from them. How had he not fucking noticed that? Looking down the length of the chain, they trailed a ways behind Eve but seemed to fade off into nothingness. Following the rough direction of where the chains should go, he noticed now that there was a thick layer of similar black chains wrapped around the trunk of the Tree.

“What the fuck?” standing and gripping the black metal in his hands, he gave it a hard yank. The line immediately went taught, the invisible length connecting Eve’s chains to the tree snapping into view as if being manifested by Adam’s touch. Whatever the reason for the chains, Adam wasn’t going to leave his wife chained up. Bracing his feet against the roots, he began to tug and heave at the metal. A good two minutes of effort had him huffing and puffing with the effort and Eve laughing at him. Okay, maybe Adam had let himself go a touch in the past thousand years, the beer gut wasn't exactly tiny. However, that didn't change the fact that 10,000 years in Heaven had made him fucking superhuman. He could bench press a building but he couldn't break a chain or budge a tree? “The fuck is this thing made of?”

“It's the original tree from the Garden of Eden. Pretty indestructible. Nice try though.” Eve giggled, apparently used to her situation enough to laugh about it.

“And what? They just fucking left you down here? What kind of horseshit is that?” Adam grunted, flopping to sit down next to Eve.

“Adam… they put me down here.” Suddenly serious, Eve had a grim expression on her face “for my own good, whatever that means.”

“Explain.”

“It's hard to remember, I don’t know if it was something that happened to me or some kind of magic they cast on me… but one day, Lucifer and Lilith are practically treating me like family and then suddenly, they are dragging me down to this cave and Lucifer conjured up these chains to hold me down. I’ve tried everything, but I can’t break them, his magic is just too strong. They only visited a few times, acting all sorry and apologetic and bringing me things to make up for it, enchanting the cave so I can control how it looks and make food for myself… but never listening when I ask to leave or ask why I’m here.” she explained with a morose sigh. To prove her point, she held out her hand and right on queue, a pristine red apple dropped from the tree above right into her palm. At least she had that going for her.

“They trapped you in a tree… for thousands of years? Those absolute fucking cunts! I swear, next time I see them I'll… well, shit, is there even a way out of here?” Adam looked around. The place was Eve’s dreamscape memory of Eden or whatever. There was a path out, same way he and Eve got chased by that asshole Cherubim… but did that apply to this version of the place? Very fucky. Adam frowned, thinking on why Lucifer and Lilith would trap Eve. That just sounded wrong. Eve never did anything to them. Yeah, he could understand why both of them had issues with Him but not Eve. This whole thing started because they gave Eve free will, and she said they treated her well for a long time after she fell. So why turn around and trap her in some magic tree? There was something fishy about this…

“Well, yes actually. There is a way out for you, I think. They… don't really need to lock the door if I can't get to it. These chains stretch to allow me to walk anywhere in the cave, but I can’t get within a foot of the door or really any of the walls or ceiling. And yes, I’ve tried to dig, but it doesn't work.” Eve shrugged, looking longingly off into the distance. She then seemed to get an idea, biting her knuckle in that very cute way she always did when deep in thought. He gave her a moment, she tended to prefer when you let her finish a thought vs prompting her to speak her mind. Finally, she made a little huff, looking at him with an expression of cautious hope. “Actually… if you can get out, I think you can get me out… it won't be easy though.”

Adam blinked, but a grin came onto his face. Good news at last. Any chance to save his wife and look like a badass hero was one he would take.

“Let's hear it, I'm pretty badass, I can handle tough.”

“Well, this place is part of the Pride Ring. So, if you can leave and take over control of the Ring, then you should just be able to set me free. Snap of the fingers and done.simple as that. It’s just… you know, you'd have to take control from Lucifer. Minor bump in the road there.” Eve explained, grimacing at the last part.

“...Ah. Yeah. Uh… sorry babe, I kinda went to bat against that tiny prick once and it didn't go… mega great. Close fight and all but ended up not going my way.” Adam really didn't like using words or phrases like ‘i got my ass handed to me’ or mentioning that he only lived the last extra minute because Lucifer decided to stop punching the dogshit out of him. “I'm powerful as Hell, just… not quite that powerful.”

Eve sighed, looking defeated for a moment, before a thought came to her.

“Well, you might have a chance actually. I mean, you're a Sinner now, Sinners can get more powerful with some work.”

Adam blinked a few times. Then he looked down at his hands. Really looked at himself. Sure as shit, he had changed. He hadn't even noticed, he'd been so focused on finding Eve and all that. His fingers were clawed, black as soot up to his elbows. Legs were the same. He still seemed mostly human, honestly similar setup to Eve aside from the white skin and black veins she had going on. Patting his face, his features felt the same aside from the fangs and the massive fuckoff pair of horns that felt suspiciously similar in shape to the ones of his Exorcist mask. Hell had a shitty sense of humor apparently.

“Well fuck me sideways, so I am. Bit of a kick in the dick, but ultimately helpful. ” knocking a fist against his horns earned another chuckle from Eve. he had never paid a lot of attention to how the exact mechanics of Hell worked for Sinners but he knew the basics. Sinners could grow in power by stealing souls or defeating other sinners and stealing their power. Adam had never owned a soul, and it felt a bit odd to think about but if it lead to him getting the power boost needed to beat that 5ft dickhead and save his wife, he was more than happy to do whatever was necessary.

“The horns do look nice on you, darling. It's a bit of a long shot, but this might actually work. Might even be easier than we think, I've heard some stuff around Hell that might work to our benefit.”She was excited now, Eve hopped up, pacing around. Adam glanced down, watching as the chains trailed along behind her but never got caught on any roots or got tangled up no matter which way she turned. They were even silent. He was still furious at Lucifer for imprisoning his wife, but he could give credit to the magic he put together. Clanking knotted chains probably would have driven Eve crazy a long time ago. Adam tilted his head in confusion, cutting off her pacing.

“Uh babe, what do you mean ‘heard some stuff’? Don't really think this place has wifi.” When he pointed this out, Eve looked confused, then mildly embarrassed.

“Oh. Right. Weeell, you suddenly arriving and talking with me has been such a rush, I haven't really explained too much of my situation, have I? Right, so, being connected to this tree isn't entirely without perks.” Eve gave a cautious smile, reaching down to tap a nearby root but pausing before she did so. “Promise not to freak out?”

He seriously doubted she could show him anything he hadn’t seen in 10,00 years of human history and centuries of visiting Hell. It’s not like he was squeamish or anything. Getting a nod from Adam, she tapped the root and in the next second the idyllic scenery around them changed. Every inch of every surface came to life. Glowing red eyes cracked open and stared directly at Adam. They covered the roots, the tree, the ground, even spilling into the forest at the edge of the clearing. Adam stumbled back, trying to step on the slim spaces between eyes. Correction, he’d never seen ANYTHING that fucked up in all of history.

“I'mnotfreakingoutareyoufreakingoutthisisatotallynormalthingbabe” the words jumbled out of his mouth, his own eyes darting around wildly to different parts of the terrain. The eyes seemed to watch him intensely, shifting slightly in perfect unison to account for his every move. The effect was fucking chilling. Something felt deeply wrong about this shit. Deeply, profoundly wrong.

“Don't worry babe, they're perfectly harmless.” Eve giggled at her husband's reaction, running a finger along the edge of one of the nearby eyes like she was petting it. She was entirely too not freaked out about this. Time in solitude does stuff to you, huh?

“Mind explaining what the fuck?” Adam said, carefully stepping between eyes to get back closer to Eve. He didn't want to think about what stepping on one would feel like. His mind imagined jello. It took all of his considerable will to not vomit at the very idea.

“Don't you recognize them?” Eve gave him a strange look then, devoid of emotion. Her red eyes softly glowing. The way she looked at him, the slight shift in posture felt wrong. Not quite eve. Not-not Eve, but like there was something else in there with her, looking through her eyes at him. A shudder ran up his back and he wasn’t sure if it was the eyes of this sudden shift in her behavior. “They're our descendants. Those Exterminations you've been doing for the last few centuries. Angelic steel can't truly kill the souls of mankind, our children are far too strong-willed for that. But it does break them, and the fragments become part of Hell, lost in the void and trying to pull themselves back together.”

That made a weird amount of sense. Now that he thought about it, Adam had seen these things before. Small groups of eves watching him from the corners of buildings or on the sidewalk. They had always just seemed like part of the background, something that made Hell look spooky. Something you just ignored. But if these things were the souls of the Exterminated… that meant fucking billions of souls. Souls he put here.

“Oh, that's… horrifying.” Adam mumbled, mixed on how to feel about that. A long ass time ago, Adam made a conscious choice to not give a fuck about humanity, they were too many generations removed from him to give a shit about. He was pretty far removed from the average modern human anyway. Adam, Eve and Lilith were the original models and made of pretty different stock. Adam was about 9ft tall, with Eve and Lilith being about a foot shorter. Bigger, stronger, and much older it was pretty easy to disconnect from mankind. He had some limits, like he stuck to full blooded angels when it came to bed partners, too hard to disassociate that part of the equation when everyone constantly reminds you that you are the ancestor of mankind. His interaction with Winners in Heaven was pretty sparse. He paid attention to their accomplishments and stuff, occasionally acknowledged some of the cooler kids and played concerts for them but that was the long and short of it. Sinners were, if anything, a poor mark on his legacy, he didn't care about killing them or feel guilty about having fun doing it. Though to have hundreds of years of dead Sinners suddenly staring back at him… Well, it was mostly weird because the eyes didn't feel angry? It was weird to try to figure out a mood based on billions of eyes staring at you, but if anything they seemed… hopeful?

“You were one of them, Adam. Another eye in the sea… I cried for you, but then, you pulled yourself back together! The first to ever do so. You have an incredible will.” Eve, illuminated by the red glow of many eyes, looked so different from the woman he once knew. Again, still Eve but just a little… not. Her new ghostly pale form, the intensity of her eyes, the glint of those fangs. It all looked rather sinister… but Adam also couldn’t deny he was hella into it. Honestly, Eve had been trapped down here for eons, she had a right to be a little fucked up. A right to be happily plotting Lucifer’s demise. She could be a little sinister, as a treat. Eve gave a wicked grin as she gestured out towards the expanse of their descendants. “These eyes can see all over Hell, and they tell me what they see. Through them, I know a little bit of everything and quite a lot of secrets that will be useful to us. Your vengeance, my freedom, our future.” Eve purred.

He was starting to like this idea. 

Overthrowing Lucifer? It kind of made sense in a way. Hell was created when he and Eve bit the apple. The place was full of his descendants. Why should Lucifer be king? Or his brat daughter? The throne of Hell was practically made for Adam… and if he could take Hell, then Heaven might be on the table as well. Why not? He knew all their secrets, so it wouldn't be hard to make use of them. He had his own army waiting for him behind the pearly gates and while the girls might be a little hesitant at first, Adam had created every Exorcist by hand, he had the means to control them if he really needed to.

“Well shit Babe, count me in. Tell me what's on your mind” Adam stepped towards taking her hands in his, his smile turning monstrous as he thought of things to come.

Hell had better prepare itself.

Daddy's home.

Chapter Text

The Hotel lobby was a mess, which was really a shame since they were supposed to finish the final touches this afternoon. They'd practically needed to repaint half the room, not to mention, plastering over the bullet holes. Most of the furniture in the right side of the lobby needed to be completely replaced too. Charlie was extremely proud of her friends for defending the hotel and going out of their way to keep damage down, but man, she did not like what guns and bombs did to furniture. Even the harmless smoke bomb left a black stain on the rug.

Well, Charlie should just thank her lucky stars that she had the luxury of complaining about broken couches and stains rather than mourning the loss of another friend… Not that she'd ever seen any stars, but still thanking them nonetheless. Coming home to a rogue Exorcist attack could have gone much, much worse. Speaking of which.

Carrying someone with a back injury was both an exercise in patience and very, very messy. Thankfully, after some work, Charlie was able to deposit Lute onto one of the couches in the damaged sitting area. She had to be laid on her stomach with her head turned to the side, otherwise the pain  might wake her up. All things considered, Charlie figured it was for the best that the Angel remained unconscious for now.

Looking down at Lute, Charlie had to resist the urge to gag. To say she was in bad shape was a significant understatement. Once pale skin had been dyed a variety of colors with dark bruises, dirt and grass stains, red and gold blood. Her Exorcist uniform was shredded and dirty, soaked through with blood. The metal arm strapped to her shoulder looked more like scrap metal than anything usable. Worst of all was her back. Charlie was no stranger to blood and gore but this was excessive. Lute's wings had been reduced to jagged, bloody stumps. The skin and muscle around them was ripped and cut apart. Alastor has cut back and forth between her shoulder blades and down her back, some cuts going as far down as Lute's hips. The damage was intense and even with magical healing, Charlie was sure it was going to leave some horrific scars.

Charlie was rather reminded of a very similar but much less extreme sight from a few years back. In retrospect, Charlie felt pretty dumb for not putting together that Vaggie was an angel. A pair of very distinct scars and Vaggie being super insistent on changing her own bandages should have been telling enough. Hindsight is 20/20 and all that. Then and now, on top of physical ailments, neither angel had been in a great spot mentally. 

Her girlfriend had suffered in silence over her banishment from Heaven but eventually found distraction and purpose in working towards Charlie's dream… Lute seemed an entirely different case. From their brief conversation, the Angel seemed to have been in the middle of a very loud and destructive mental breakdown. Apparently  all of Charlie's good fortune in regard to the changes in Heaven following the last Extermination had translated to very bad fortune for Lute. Emily had mentioned Lute's episodes during the new trial and her interview, so the Exorcist leader had been on a downward spiral for a bit. Honestly, Emily and Sera should have anticipated something like this. Well, no, on second thought that wasn’t entirely fair to them. Even with her trusting nature, Charlie had more experience with people going through destructive outbursts and had a better chance of noticing the signs. She doubted that kind of thing happened as often in Heaven as it did in Hell. Charlie pursed her lips in deep thought, this was not an easy situation to navigate.

Back in the meeting, Charlie had said, with confidence, that she would be willing to help anyone who asked for it.  She hadn't anticipated that philosophy to be stress tested so quickly. If a broken and bloody angel desperately begging Charlie to tell her what she was supposed to do wasn't a cry for help, then Charlie frankly didn't know what one was. The issue, however, was the particular angel in question.

Charlie looked around the hotel lobby, once perfect and pristine as of this morning, now it had been turned over. On the opposite side of the room were her friends, who were in equally not great condition. Emily, bless the little Seraphim, had offered up her magic to heal people and was running a makeshift triage. Her friends had been rightfully suspicious of another angel on premises, but changed their tune when Emily explained that she could even heal broken bones and even wounds from blessed weapons with little effort. 

“There, that should do for most of the damage. She really did a number on your face, I'm so sorry about  all this.” Emily apologized as she pulled her hand away from Angel’s face, which had been half covered in bruises that made his worst nights working for Val look positively loving, but now looked good as new. The spider sinner blinked a few times, rolling his jaw and patting his face, frowning.

“Uh, is it supposed to still hurt? Not that I'm complainin’ or nothin, ya saved my moneymaker and all, just still feels like I got curb stomped by a psychopath” Angel asked.

“Unfortunately yes, magic has limits. Heals the body but I can't do much about the brain. Your mind still thinks you're injured, so it uses pain to tell you that, despite there being nothing actually wrong. It should pass in a few hours, a day at most. I wish I could do more but mental magic is extremely complicated even for me.” Emily explained patiently.

“Alright I guess, so, what about my arm?” Angel said, making a show of using his three other arms to all point at his upper right arm that hung loosely.

“Oh, it's just dislocated. The muscles are already healed and nothing is broken. Unfortunately, healing cracked or broken bones is one thing, but moving it back into place is different. It just needs to be reset… I guess I could…” Emily looked unsure, clearly distressed at the idea of the pain the act would cause Angel but wanting to help. Husk, despite not being healed yet himself, stepped over to come to the rescue.

“I got it, wouldn't be the first time I did something like this. Happens in bar fights all the time.” Husk grumbled, walking behind Angel and lifting his limp arm.

“Oh, Doctor Husky. Be gentle with me. Mmm, should I go get a ball gag to bite down on?” Angel grinned, ignoring any discomfort to do his usual sexual banter, earning a look from Husk that was equally annoyed and amused. Husk didn't dignify it with a response, instead he went with his usual blunt methodology and settled the situation quickly. Using one arm to hold Angel’s in a particular position, before slamming his palm into Angel’s shoulder in a way that was anything but gentle. The crunching pop that followed made Charlie wince from across the room, Angel yowling and cursing in pain… but a moment later, he was moving the arm good as new.

Charlie sighed, glad that Emily's impromptu triage station was going well and none of her friends were critically injured. If they were still cracking jokes, they were doing alright. One less thing to stress over. 

Looking back down at the unconscious angel, then at the golden blood that had positively soaked her jacket. She shrugged it off, tossing it over Lute’s exposed back so Charlie didn't have to look at the mangled bloody mess. At the very least, a lifetime in Hell meant she knew how to get blood out of fabric, so the garment would be salvageable. It was one of her favorites. On the other hand, the question of what to do with Lute vexed her. Lute being an exorcist was one thing, something she'd confronted with Vaggie (not by choice, but confronted nonetheless). From the talks they'd had about it since then, she knew Vaggie viewed her past as an Exorcist with great shame; that she had been complicit in genocide was something that would haunt Vaggie for a long time. The difference was that Vaggie had at least partly made the choice to break that cycle of violence on her own, choosing mercy despite the cost. Lute hadn't. She'd gone down literally kicking and screaming until she had nowhere to run, resisted to nearly her last breath.

On top of that, Vaggie's actions had never affected Charlie personally. Lute's actions had. When one considered the bizarre morals of Hell in the abstract it was easier to look past someone's past. Killers were a dime a dozen, honestly murderers weren't some of the worst offenders down here. All of her friends probably held double or triple digit kill counts when you considered their mortal and immortal lives. Angel had been in a crime family, Cherri was a proud arsonist and brutal about turf wars, Husk and Niffty were apparently former overlords,  and Alastor was… well, Alastor. Despite this, Charlie had spent time with them and saw the good people they could be, wanted to bring that out in them, even if they didn't see it yet. It's a lot easier to forgive when it doesn't affect you.

Lute was a different situation. Twice now,  she had brought destruction to Charlie's hotel, attacked and seriously hurt her friends, and worst of all, Lute had killed Dazzle. The memory carved a cold hole in Charlie's heart. If she closed her eyes she could see it. Razzle and Dazzle being so brave, assuming their full demonic form to carry her and Vaggie into battle… Lute coldly carving through Dazzle’s neck to get to Vaggie. Lute had killed him without a second thought. One of the most precious gifts she'd ever received from her father. Her constant companion. Razzle and Dazzle had been with her since she was a child, serving, protecting, and comforting through the hardest times in her life. It was true they didn't have souls of their own, but they had been alive to Charlie. Able to think and feel and make decisions on their own. Dazzle had been more than a pet, he had been a friend. Charlie thought of how sad and listless Razzle seemed these days, how she'd often find him hanging around the statue of Dazzle in the courtyard. 

Charlie's claws bit into her palms as she looked down at the angel. A small, insidious voice echoed from that cold hole in her heart. She could kill Lute. She had every right, all things considered.  Based on Charlie's quick math, she had shook on her deal with Sera about five minutes before Lute started the fight at the hotel. Her deal had been altered to include specific protection for those affiliated with the hotel, and Lute had attacked her staff. It was a clear violation, and opened the door for Charlie's judgment in whatever form she deemed appropriate. She doubted even Emily could argue that. More than that, while Sinners lacked many clear laws, demons had plenty, especially among royalty. The murder of a servant was seen as a serious insult and opened one up to retaliation. No demon royal would ever take something like that without dealing appropriate punishment… but Charlie was not the average demon.

Charlie was a pacifist by choice, but not always by nature. She hated to admit it, but it was true. She was blessed with natural power and that came with a temptation to use that power. Her friends had noticed it by now, her temper. Despite her chipper, kind demeanor; her temper had a way of very visibly flaring… more frequently than she cared to admit. Anytime she was even mildly upset, she could feel her demonic form leaking out like steam from a kettle. It wanted to solve things the easy way, the way so many Sinners and Demons seemed to prefer. By fang and claw and might. It was what whispered to her now. That Lute deserved everything she got, that she killed something Charlie loved, that she hurt those Charlie cared about. 

The voice was so tempting, yet it was one Charlie made an active choice to silence. Choosing that path was easy, it would make her no better than any overlord. Choosing kindness, forgiveness, redemption… That was harder. Much harder, but it was something Charlie believed was worth it. Kindness was the choice of those who had strength to spare.

And Lute was in desperate need of kindness. Charlie couldn't shake the look of sheer pain and desperation in Lute's eyes. It was the look of a person who's world had crumbled beneath them, who felt abandoned by everything and everyone they believed in, who was in need of purpose and guidance… someone who needed her help. So, of Charlie wanted to make good on her promises of the Hotel's potential, she needed to stick to her philosophy and give Lute a chance to redeem herself. Honestly, if an angel like her could change, then the floor was open to any mortal soul to do the same. 

Charlie sighed dramatically, dropping into the opposite couch from Lute, the bullet riddled coffee table between them. Lute was going to be a hell of a project, and maybe a part of Charlie would always resent her for Dazzle's death; but if Lute was willing to change, then Charlie should at least give her a chance. A demon forgiving an angel, what a concept that was.

She sat there for a few minutes, rolling over the rollercoaster of a day she'd had and silently watching her friends from across the room. Cherri and Angel seemed in better spirits, laughing and joking with Emily, apparently at Husk's expense. The grumpy Sinner was loudly complaining that Emily had ‘ruined years of hard work’, apparently she had healed his liver along with the rest of him. Terrible  fate for a professional alcoholic. Niffty was back to her old self, apparently fine despite having been pounded into a wall, already working on cleaning up the destroyed potted plant. Funny little creature that Niffty.

After a bit, Vaggie stepped into the lobby. She didn't bother with opening the doors, just stepping through the busted glass frames before heading over to Charlie. The Ex-exorcist looked at Lute’s sprawled out form with an unreadable expression before she shook her head and dropped into the couch next to Charlie. On instinct, Charlie put an arm around Vaggie's shoulder and held her close for a second, enjoying the brief and simple peace they shared. It couldn't last, not with the room’s source of tension slowly bleeding on a couch five feet from them.

“So… how do things look outside” Charlie asked, Vaggie had wanted a few minutes to survey the damage and make a report. Charlie was pretty sure she just wanted a few minutes alone before dealing with Lute, which was more than fair. Vaggie was often like that, burying herself in some task or project to hide when something was bothering her. It was something they were working on, making sure Vaggie knew she could be safe to show her emotions around Charlie… Based on Lute, Charlie was getting an impression of where that bad habit came from.

“Not terrible but not great. Grass is all torn up, tarmac is going to need to be dug up and replaced for a good portion of the driveway, and there is some cosmetic damage. Overall, maybe a few thousand in repairs and a week of work… or maybe an afternoon if your dad wants to flex some magic.” Vaggie reported dryly, her eye not leaving Lute's form. “If I have to be honest, based on the impact craters, it does look like Alastor was the source of the bulk of the damage.”

This must be a tough one for Vaggie, she wasn't exactly a fan or Alastor or Lute. Lute being the person that cast her out of Heaven but they at least had a lot more good history than bad. Compared to Alastor who was technically on the same side as Vaggie, but Vaggie was constantly concerned about Alastor being a threat to Charlie. Honestly hard to guess who's side Vaggie might take if she had to choose between the two. Despite everything Lute had done to her, Charlie doubted that Vaggie would have been okay with Alastor getting control of Lute's soul. Vaggie looked contemplative, turning her eye from Lute to Emily, who seemed to have finished up healing the others and was coming over to speak with them. The Seraphim smiled at them, fidgeting with her sleeves that were lightly stained with blood. The poor girl obviously wasn't used to blood and gore, but was doing her best to look confident and helpful.

“Your friends should be all better now, they'll be sore for a bit but should be good as new by the end of the day.” she said.

“Seriously, thank you again, this would be much worse if you weren't around.” Charlie returned the Seraphim’s smile. “Sorry that your visit to the hotel didn't go quite as planned.”

“Oh, no no, if anything I should be apologizing. Kinda my fault Lute is here. Should have known something was up when she suddenly turned so helpful and cooperative.” she sighed. From what Charlie had gathered, Emily taking charge with the Exorcists had been a big thing for her. Which meant that her getting tricked like this probably stung. Still, the Seraphim did her best to give an awkward smile and point at Lute. “So… is your red friend coming back? I unfortunately can’t regenerate her wings but I could reattach them if he brought them back.” Emily’s eyes flicked from Lute’s body to the door, awkwardly touching her fingers together.

“Yeah, unfortunately I don't think he's going to give them back.” Charlie said, earning an odd look from Emily. She might be princess of Hell, but her authority over Alastor was flimsy at best. Charlie was honestly surprised at herself for today, managing to get Alastor to listen to her orders… but she honestly doubted she would be able to get him to give up a hard won prize. She personally thought keeping an angel’s wings was mega gross, but Alastor was weird like that. When Emily saw that Charlie wasn’t going to elaborate, the girl just sighed and floated over to heal Lute. As she reached a hand out, Vaggie's spear flashed out, the flat of the blade lightly swatting the back of Emily's hand, making the angel squeak in surprise.

“Only heal her the bare minimum, just enough to live.” Vaggie said, voice cold. Emily locked eyes with Charlie, who just sighed and nodded. Lute needed some kind of punishment from all this, and a long recovery was more than fair. Emily fidgeted a bit, clearly upset at the idea of not properly healing someone, but the intensity of Vaggie’s expression prompted her to keep her opinions to herself. 

Reaching down again, Emily peeled back the coat that Charlie had thrown over Lute’s back. Poor girl immediately had to clap a hand over her mouth to suppress a gag at the sight of the ruined golden flesh. Emily had probably never seen a wounded angel in person in her life. Even Vaggie averted her eyes from the sight despite her anger. It took a few seconds before Emily managed to regain control of her stomach, taking several deep breaths before she moved to begin the healing. When she did extend her hand, a warm glow emanated over Lute’s body. The effect was immediate, but minimal as Vaggie desired. The multitude of wounds across Lute’s body shrank in size and ceased bleeding but didn’t fully seal. Lute’s skin was naturally pale but she did seem to regain some slight color in her features as the magic counteracted the significant blood loss she’d suffered. Lute’s expression relaxed as her breath became more steady and less shallow, her sleep becoming more peaceful. She was actually kind of pretty when she wasn't frowning or snarling at people. Lute had gone from hanging on death’s door to merely being critically injured, but that was the best she was going to get under Vaggie’s watch.

Emily pulled her hand back, staring at the glowing blood that stained her hand from even touching Lute. Shuddering, Emily mouthed a quiet ‘sorry’ as she wiped as much as she could off on the arm of the couch. The couch was already ruined, Charlie didn’t mind. With that done, Emily silently gestured at the opposite end of the couch from Charlie and Vaggie, asking silent permission to sit. Once she had it, she sat with a sigh. She looked at Lute with a sad expression, clearly both feeling bad for this happening and equally upset at not being allowed to heal someone so injured. Emily was truly a good soul.

“So… what happens now?” Emily began. It wasn’t a conversation Charlie was looking forward to. For better or worse, just as she went to open her mouth, she got interrupted. 

Blaring music rang out from her pocket, prompting her to shift around until she could work her phone out. Her dad was calling. Bit of an odd time, but she’d have to tell him about this one way or the other. She accepted the call, putting him on speaker for good measure.

“Hi dad, what’s up-”

“Charlie! So glad you picked up!” Lucifer’s voice rang out, he sounded kinda nervous? “Sorry if I’m interrupting your tour with Em, but kinda had some stuff happen. Needed to get a hold of you as soon as I could.”

“Something happened? Did you and Sera get into an argument or something?” Charlie felt a chill run up her spine, worried that this day was about to go from bad to much, much worse.

“Huh? Oh no. Actually having a pretty good time catching up and all that. About halfway done on the paperwork, we were just in the middle of discussing whether or not we should actually have an angel present in the Embassy and the proper compensation for that kind of job, living in Hell isn’t a fun prospect for most and all but I’m getting off topic.” Lucifer went on, sounding very casual for someone who had claimed something important was happening. Her father could ramble at the worst of times. “Anyway, this Exorcist was a busted helmet kicked her way into the room and started ranting and raving about… well, I wasn’t paying attention, but it freaked Sera out pretty bad. She kept trying to call Emily, but it seems like phones from Heaven dont have signal in Hell, who knew.”

Charlie blinked, looking to Emily. The girl fumbled at her own dress, which actually had pockets hidden among its ruffles and fluff. She pulled out a sleek looking blue phone and looked at it, but flashed a screen showing she had no missed messages. Something about there being a disconnect between phones in Heaven and Hell itched at Charlie’s brain but she set it aside for now.

“I’m right here sir. Is my sister okay?” Emily asked.

“Oh good, there you are. You don’t really need to bother with the ‘sir’ stuff, you’re practically fam- Wha- Hey!” Lucifer was cut off by rustling sounds as the phone was seemingly taken from him.

“Emily! Emily can you hear me!?” came the panic stricken voice of Sera a moment later.

“Yes! I can hear you just fine, Sera, what’s going on?”

“It’s Lute! She snuck into the Embassy and attacked one of the Exorcists! The Lieutenant has gone rogue and we have no idea where she is or what she’s capable of. I need you to come back to the Embassy immediately, make sure to bring the Princess with you, Lute could be trying to hunt her down and-” Sera explained in a rush, Charlie could practically see the tall woman pacing nervously and fidgeting. As the high Seraphim was going on a doomsday rant about Lute’s actions ruining the efforts they made towards peace, the girls all looked at each other and then towards the unconscious angel across from them. Yeah, this wasn’t a great situation. Better to be blunt.

“Uhm, High Seraphim?” Charlie cut in, grimacing and pre-emptively holding the phone at a distance. She had a feeling it was about to get loud. “We know… Lute kinda attacked the hotel.”

“SHE WHAT!?” came the furious voices of both Sera and Lucifer. It might have been Charlie’s imagination, but she was faintly sure she felt a slight rumble in time with their voices despite being miles from the Embassy. What followed after that was about 5 minutes of what Charlie might graciously describe as ‘assorted noise’. Mostly comprised of Charlie, Emily, and Vaggie trying to explain what happened, that they were fine but the staff got hurt and most importantly nobody died all mixed with Lucifer and Sera yelling into the microphone and arguing with each other. It only got worse when they accidentally mentioned the Golden Axe Lute had been fighting with, which had Sera screaming at the top of her lungs. At the very least they managed to talk to two furious ancient angels out of portalling into the Hotel lobby then and there, that would have been too much to deal with and came with a non-zero chance of Lute getting turned to ash.

Eventually, her dad seemed to mostly calm down when he realized that Charlie hadn’t been hurt at all. Sera, however, only got more emotional and Emily ended up excusing herself and borrowing Charlie’s phone so she could talk Sera through what sounded an awful lot like a panic attack.

“Well, it sure sounds like Lute is… super banished.” Charlie observed, god she already felt tired. 

“Considering I've never heard Sera yell like that, I sincerely doubt Heaven is taking her back. Which means she's stuck with us.” Vaggie groaned unhappily.

“Isn't banishment to Earth a thing?” Charlie asked.

“I mean, I've heard stories about it happening to Guardian Angels who mess up big time, but it's pretty rare because you’re expected to remain in hiding and away from mortals. Lot of risk involved in banishing someone to earth, but it's the mild punishment compared to Hell. Besides, she's too injured to be left alone and Sera isn't going to risk that guitar falling into mortal hands. Hard ban on that kind of thing after the Excalibur incident.” Vaggie explained and made no attempt to elaborate. Vaggie just kept glaring at Lute until she shook her head and sighed. “Which means she’s going to be stuck with us, like it or not. Any idea of what kind of punishment your dad is going to push for?”

Charlie gave Vaggie an awkward smile, which only made Vaggie’s frown deepen. A raised eyebrow pressured Charlie to explain what was on her mind.

“Well… Technically, dad has no say in Lute’s punishment.” she began, avoiding further glares from her girlfriend.

“Elaborate.”

“Old Demon royalty laws. If Lute attacked me it might be different, but she attacked the hotel and the staff. The deed to the hotel is in my name and everyone except Cherri are technically my employees. Law of Retribution states I decide her fate as she damaged my property. I have the right to kill or torture her, banish her, force her to an oath of service, demand monetary compensation, forced labor until she pays off a debt, that kind of thing. Dad wrote the laws, which means he won’t break them even if he’s mad.” Charlie explained. These laws were very old and archaic things, but her mom had forced her to learn them to prepare for whenever Charlie would eventually take her place in the greater politics of Hell. These days the law of retribution was usually just brought up to demand monetary compensation or some kind of public apology. Royals very rarely demanded things like torture or death as that often just led to further altercations between families and factions.

“So, you decide what happens next?” Vaggie just gave her a flat look. “Let me guess, you want her to work off a debt by working at the Hotel or something?”

“Weeeeell, in the hypothetical where we assume that Heaven does banish her… working for the Hotel would be my first choice. Not that I’d force her to do so, but that's a different discussion. It's also not the only choice.” Charlie took Vaggie’s hand and gave it a small squeeze. “I can still choose banishment. Send her off to one of my aunts or uncles in the other rings. They’d probably set her up with some job or another for a few years to earn their protection, but after that she’d likely be left to her own devices in their ring. Aunt Belphie runs hospitals that always need more hands and uncle Sats has a lot of ranches and farms that need tending.” Setting Lute up to work for one of the Sins would probably be the best cause scenario. A Fallen Angel didn't really have a place in Hell's hierarchy and opinions on them were varied. Some might embrace the fallen, others seek their doom. Lute wouldn't have a chance unless some greater power took enough interest to sponsor her with their protection… a deal that would never come freely. 

This wasn't her preferred option, but she wanted Vaggie to know she had an option to make a choice. Out of everyone, Lute had hurt Vaggie the most, personally and physically. Charlie remembered it well, when she had first taken Vaggie in. Long sleepless nights wracked with pain from the jagged wounds on her back. Seeing the girl struggling to adjust to her impaired vision, cursing over stumbling into furniture or cutting her fingers while cooking. Many times where Charlie had found her crying over a past she never wanted to talk about. The physical recovery had taken weeks, the mental recovery had been months. 

The memories produced an odd mix of emotions in Charlie. It always hurt her to think of the pain the woman who would one day become her partner had suffered. Yet, at the same time, those memories were a big part of why she and Vaggie were together. Their relationship had grown slowly but surely in those days. From strangers, to friends, and finally to lovers. Vaggie had needed a helping hand and Charlie had needed a friend, she had so few back then. In a roundabout way, Lute had been the catalyst for their relationship. 

She gently gripped Vaggie's shoulder now, giving her a small smile.

“You have a say in this, I'm not going to make a decision you're uncomfortable with.” Charlie promised her girlfriend, earning a very slight smile before a very, very long sigh.

“... Despite everything she's done, I don't feel right killing her, not after going through the effort of sparing her last time. Sending her off to a different circle has a solid chance of her ending up dead or worse. Mierda, can't believe I'm saying this, but I think we should keep her at the Hotel.” Vaggie didn't say the ‘ and within stabbing distance’ part out loud, but Charlie knew her girlfriend well enough. Either way, Charlie was proud of her.

It wasn't something Vaggie had said out loud, or would likely be willing to say anytime soon, but accepting in keeping Lute around rather than throwing her to the wolves was the first step on what would likely be a very long road to forgiving her. It was giving Lute a chance to change. Vaggie had good reason to hate Lute, but they'd both seen just how broken she was today. There had been more to today's outburst than just losing a fight to Alastor and they knew it. If they could get at the source of that issue and guide Lute to a better path, there was a real chance for positive change 

“Thank you Vaggie” Charlie gave her a big hug, practically able to feel Vaggie rolling her eye dramatically, but the hug was returned. When they pulled apart, Vaggie had her usual smile again.

“She's going to be on a short leash, and I maintain stabbing rights if she misbehaves.” Vaggie said.

“Fair enough.” Charlie agreed.

Shortly after they finalized their decision, a very weary looking Emily wandered out of one of the side rooms off the Lobby. She gave Charlie a grim frown, holding out her phone to take back. Emily hovered next to Lute, pulling out a tightly wrapped golden scroll of parchment and nervously tapping it against the palm of her free hand.

“So. Let me guess, Banishment?” Charlie asked.

“Yeah… I managed to get Sera calmed down, but she immediately went into writing this.” Emily held up the scroll with a sigh. “Official decree of banishment. Signed by Sera and your father, they portalled it to me because it needs your signature.”

“Your sister has quite the thing for paperwork.” Charlie mused, taking the scroll and rolling it out. Helpfully, it hovered in the air and a golden feather pen manifested right next to it, just like the sheet at the sign in desk of the Embassy. Vaggie looked over Charlie’s shoulder, whistling at the long list of crimes laid out within.

“I didn’t get a formal decree.” Vaggie observed tonelessly. 

“Because Adam never officially filed any paperwork about you being cast down or put in for a requisition to make a new Exorcist. Sera complained about Adam’s bad paperwork habits a lot.” Emily sighed, still fidgeting with her attention mostly on Charlie. 

Charlie picked up the pen, looking over the document one last time. She saw her father’s messy signature, and the thin, neat script Sera signed it in. there was a space for her name on the document… the one that would formally condemn Lute. the decision had already been made and there was no changing it, but it still felt… icky to sign something like this. Charlie took a last look at Lute, then at the damage done to the Hotel. She sighed. Lute did deserve her punishment and likely wasn’t going to change at all if she didn’t suffer a bit for the things she’d done. Even if Charlie was being merciful towards Lute, she wasn’t going to let the woman get off scot free like nothing happened. With that in mind, she added her own name to the document, watching as it rolled itself back up and floated to Emily’s hands. The Seraphim looked understanding, but not entirely pleased with the turn of events. Emily was not the type to celebrate the condemnation of another angel, no matter what they’d done.

“Well, thats it then.” Emily made a gesture with her free hand. A silver wax seal secured the scroll, then with a flash it multiplied into 3 identical copies. Emily handed two of them to Charlie. “One for your records, one for ours and… one for Lute, when she wakes up… just, one last thing to do…”

Emily turned, looking down at Lute, her expression grim. The girl took a few seconds of hyping herself up, clenching and unclenching her fists. Only at the last minute did Charlie catch onto what Emily was about to do.

“Is that necessary?”

“Sera insisted.” Emily said, closing her eyes as she reached forward and wrapped her fingers around Lute’s halo. Taking a deep breath and refusing to open her eyes, Emily yanked her hand back and the Halo came with it, a faint buzzing pop being heard as it pulled away from Lute’s head. Lute’s whole body clenched and twitched for a few seconds, but otherwise remained asleep. The halo in Emily’s hand buzzed and flickered, the black glowing ring fading to a dull gray. Emily’s hand shook, she still refused to look at the halo in her hand. “I… I don’t ever want to do that again.”

“We can… uh, get you a bag or something to put it in if you don’t want to carry that around. Leave it on the table for now.” Charlie suggested and Emily gladly set it down, backing away from it like the lifeless halo had burned her. Even Vaggie was staring at the ring like it was going to jump up and bite her. “So… awkward time to ask, but what does losing a Halo actually mean?”

“Mostly just means you lose your heavenly protections. Angelic invulnerability and stuff like that.” Vaggie explained without looking up from the Halo. she probably hadn’t seen a halo getting removed since it happened to her. “There is also a … disconnect. It's hard to explain. I can still go to Heaven if there is a portal, but I lost any sense of connection to the place. It felt different… man, Lute is going to pitch a fit when she wakes up.”

“I imagine… so, you plan to keep her around?” Emily asked, getting nods in return. The seraphim relaxed slightly, it might have pushed the girl to her wits end if they told her Lute was getting killed or banished to a lower ring. “Thank you for being merciful. Weird as it sounds, I think a bit of time in Hell might actually be good for her, so long as it's with you guys.”

“Did wonders for me, you should try it.” Vaggie laughed sarcastically, enjoying the look on Emily's face.

“Oh, no… no thank you? No offense or anything. Hell is, uh, not my scene? Interesting to visit though.” Emily gave a lopsided smile, trying her best to be polite. Charlie could see her fidgeting with a blood splatter on her dress again, the girl was clearly not meant for Hell. “Uhm, maybe you guys should tell your friends about your new guest? I’d do anything to settle into a less uncomfortable topic.”

Charlie's eyes widened, the abrupt topic change making her remember the actually good parts of the day..

“Oh oh oh! We also have to tell them the good news! Gosh, with everything happening, I almost forgot.” Charlie said, suddenly excited as she jumped up from the couch as if she was about to sprint off, but she paused “Though maybe it'll be better to save this for a conversation over breakfast?”

“We're going to want to explain the Lute situation before we pick her up to move her into a room, and might as well get everything out in one go. That way you don't have time to think up a song and dance number to explain it.” Vaggie said with a wry smile, to which Charlie stuck her tongue out with an appropriate rebuttal of ‘nyeh’ before bouncing off to gather up the hotel staff.

After a minute or so of carousing, she managed to gather Husk, Angel, Cherri and Niffty back to the sitting area. Alastor was still off running some mysterious errands or pouting, so he'd get a shorthand version later. The man didn't carry a cellphone so there was no way to get in contact with him, not that Charlie was going to try particularly hard due to the fact she wasn't in the best mood with him right now.

Pacing back and forth in front of her gathered friends and doing her best to look like some kind of inspiring leader, she began,

“Okay, official Hotel meeting. Lots to discuss, I have really good news and some less good news.” She began, lightly glossing over that Cherri had never claimed to be part of the staff or even an official guest. She was still in the denial stage, which Charlie could work with. “But before I get into that, I want to say… you guys were very brave today, working together to fend off an attack on the hotel. Because of your efforts we got out of this with minimal damage to the building and everyone being relatively safe. I'm so proud of you guys.”

Charlie couldn't help the edge of emotion in her voice, feeling a warm smile creep onto her face at the way her friends all seemed to try to brush off the genuine compliment. Months ago, she couldn't have imagined practical strangers like Husk and Niffty coming to the rescue of people like Angel and Cherri without being expressly ordered to. Yet, over their time together and the last battle, they had bonded as friends. Choosing to put their lives on the line for the hotel and each other. It made Charlie's heart swell with warmth.

“Eh, no big deal. It’d be a pain to haveta move back into the V tower, so I don’t want this place trashed again is all.” Angel said with a mock dismissive tone. They both knew he cared a lot more than he was letting on, but his cool guy persona was a habit he had yet to drop. He moved on quickly before he could be questioned. “So, saw you gals signin’ some paperwork. Guessin’ you figured out what’s happenin’ with the psycho of the week.” Angel said, pointing at Lute.

“Yes... Unfortunately, that does bring us to our next point. The ‘less than great news’. So, for those of you who don't know, the person responsible for this attack is Lute, former Exorcist and… colleague of Vaggie.” Charlie said, gesturing at the unconscious Angel. She noticed that Niffty was already trying (likely in vain) to clean the glowing bloodstains out of the fabric around the angel. “Her assault on the hotel was not sanctioned by the powers that be in Heaven and she explicitly violated some specific rules that were negotiated during my meeting, which I'll explain later. Due to this, she is… officially banished from Heaven. How does this affect you guys? Glad you asked… Vaggie and I have decided that given she has nowhere else to go, we will be housing her in the hotel.”

Now, when Charlie announced this, she expected protests, maybe even anger. They had just fought Lute nearly to the death, it would only make sense they would be pissed off about having to spend time with her… What she did not expect were groans of annoyance as Cherri and Angel both dug out stacks of cash and slapped them in the palm of an extremely smug looking Husk. She blinked.

“Aw, damn it Vags, figured you'd put up a fight about this one.” Angel grumbled, Vaggie just rolled her eye and flipped him the bird, getting four birds in return.

“Here I was thinking that ‘Princess Bleedingheart’ was an exaggeration.” Sighed Cherri, but she didn't look all that upset. 

“Told you both, Princess can't help collecting whatever sad sacks land on her doorstep.” Husk chuckled, thumbing through the cash as he counted it. His expression did, however, turn serious as he locked eyes with Charlie. “You are actually prepared for what this entails, right? Rehab for that disaster is going to be a bit more complicated than sharing circles and trust exercises.”

“Yes, I'm taking this seriously. Lute is going to be under strict supervision while she recovers and we are going to do what we can to make sure she is properly disarmed and a minimal threat to the rest of the staff. If she responds well to rehabilitation, we will take her on as a junior staff member that you guys will have some authority over. If she doesn't, well… we will cross that bridge when we come to it. Either way, Vaggie has volunteered to handle the issue if Lute steps out of line.” Charlie made a point about her ‘disarming’ comment by stepping forward and quickly unstrapping Lute's prosthetic. It felt a bit weird and mean to remove a disabled person's prosthetic, but the limb in question was both a dangerous weapon and so damaged it was nearly scrap metal. She’d need to see about getting a safer replacement. This did seem to satisfy her friends for now though. For now, she set it down on the table next to the removed halo.

“Well, breakfast with Danger Tits here should be entertainin’ at least. You said somethin’ about actually good news?” Angel chuckled.

“Yes! A lot of good news actually. So, as you guys know, I went off earlier to have a meeting with Heaven and for once it went really well. Like really, really well! That's why our new friend, Emily is visiting” Charlie gestured to her, who gave a jaunty little wave. “So, do to some… let's call them legal technicalities that were overstepped during the battle at the hotel. Heaven was actually apologizing to us, which sounds crazy but I swear that's what was happening. I made a deal with the head Seraphim not only to have the Exterminations put back on a regular schedule, but the next Extermination was canceled. We have nearly a year and a half until the next one! I tried to argue for total cancellation, but I couldn't swing it” Charlie explained in her usual rambling fashion. Emily looked ashamed about not being able to outright cancel the Exterminations, Charlie knew she was of Charlie's opinion for total cancellation, but they'd done their best. The others, however, were stunned. 

“Fuckin’ wow, Charlie. You actually got an Extermination postponed?” Angel said, surprised, looking to Emily for confirmation and getting a nod.

“Shit, here I thought you were terrible at politics.” Husk mumbled.

“Hey, only when I'm working against some douche canoe like Adam. I'm super great at politics, thank you very little. In fact, because I'm so great, I managed to get you guys and anyone officially affiliated with the hotel and exemption from further Exterminations.” Charlie said, casually looking at her nails like that wasn't a huge bombshell to drop on them. Poor fools, she wasn't even done.

“No fucking way, now you're making shit up.” Cherri laughed, “no way those holier-than-thou pricks would give us a free pass… no offense, Em, you're pretty alright.”

“Uh, none taken, I kinda get Sinners having a bad impression of Heaven, all things considered. It's not a joke though, Charlie and my sister shook on it and everything. They wanted it to be an incentive for joining the Hotel.”

“... Wait, you're serious?” Cherri asked, looking back and forth between Charlie and Emily “huh, there may be something to this Hotel nonsense afterall.”

“Yes, my arsonist friend, thank you for leading me into my next point. There is something to this Hotel nonsense! Becaaaaause-” Charlie danced across the room, sliding up to the large painting of Sir Pentious as she threw her hands up with a tiny shower of colorful fireworks. “Redemption works! Sir Pentious is alive and in Heaven!... Well, not alive, but living in the afterlife. Specifically Heaven, which is the important part, so yaaaay!” Charlie expected cheers and applause, instead she was met with looks of skepticism and even mild annoyance.

“Charlie, I don't know what game you think you're playing, but isn't this in kind of bad taste?” Husk grumbled.

“Yeah, that old man fuckin' died for us, don't lie about it to advertise.” Cherri looked straight up mad, like she was about to storm out. Angel grabbed her shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze to calm her down.

Charlie blinked. They thought she was lying? Was it that hard to believe? Shit, she really should have taken a picture or something, she'd been so excited she'd forgotten to get some evidence. There was a bang as Vaggie slammed the butt of her spear into the ground, glaring venomously at the group.

“Hey! Charlie isn't lying, you all know her better than that” Vaggie hissed, protective and angry that anyone would slander her girlfriend. Charlie moved to calm her down, it seriously looked like she and Cherri were about to throw down. Before she could, Vaggie swung her spear to point at Emily, who squeaked in surprise “You! Can't you bring him here like before?”

“Oh, uh… no, not really? I dunno. I mean, with what happened back at the meeting, I'm not sure about calling Sir Pentious back to Hell so soon. I don't think it would be good for him… like, physically, but-” Emily began but Cherri cut her off.

“Sounds bloody convenient.” Cherri said with an exaggerated eye roll

“But I can look in on him.” Emily finished, giving Cherri an annoyed frown. The young Seraphim lifted her wings to float over to the large painting of Sir Pentious, standing next to Charlie. Closing her eyes, Emily took a deep breath in and as she exhaled a small thrum of power moved through the room. Glowing blue eyes opened on her chest and halo as she took on her partial angelic form. Emily reached out to touch the large portrait but paused, looking unsure. Before she could be asked about what the holdup was, she scooted to the side, lifting up the portrait from the wall and looking behind it. There was a tiny flash of light before she nodded to herself, looking back to the others.

“Sorry sorry, I just had to make sure he was decent. I always feel awkward about peeking. I didn’t want to catch him in the shower or pooping or anything.” her awkward smile seemed out of place when she was literally glowing with power. Putting the portrait back in place, this time she tapped the painting with a finger.

The surface rippled like water, the wave spreading to every corner. As it did, the paint swirled and changed, shifting colors and rearranging itself. After a second, the  image changed completely. Rather than the Napoleon-esque dramatic painting, instead it was a live and moving image of Sir Pentious hunched over a desk in some type of workshop, though it still maintained the oil painting look as if it was some kind of filter. He was dressed down from his usual attire… well dressed down for him. The grease stained long sleeved undershirt was of his usual Victorian style. His hat hung from a rack near the desk, the large eye on it twitching around slightly, seemingly offering an alternate perspective on whatever schematic he was fussing over.

If not for his new angelic appearance, it would have been a scene the residents of the hotel would have found dozens and dozens of times. Sir Pentious was a dedicated craftsman and inventor. No matter how many egg boy servants he had, he always ended up elbow deep in some engine or complex mechanism, insistent on doing the most important parts of the work himself. He could be found tinkering with something at all hours of the day, his work seemingly never done. It was good to see that hadn’t changed. Charlie felt a nostalgic smile at the scene.

Looking to her companions, this seemed to have dispelled their disbelief, leaving dumbstruck awe in its place. They gaped openly at the sight of an alive and redeemed Sir Pentious. Even Niffty had stopped trying to clean blood out of the couch, her single eye transfixed on the sight. Charlie nodded to herself, it was a lot to take in; she knew that there was proof of a way out of hell. She gave them a moment to digest it, turning to Emily.

“I'm surprised to see him back to work already, did you have something to do with that?” Charlie asked

“Oh yes! Sir Pentious was rather listless in his first few days in Heaven, missing his friends. After learning about his interests, I managed to get him a job at a workshop where he could make use of his skills. He's such a talented inventor, I'm sure he'll make a name for himself in no time!” Emily said cheerily 

“Hmm… wonder what he's building?” Charlie said, tilting her head at the image, unfortunately she couldn't get a good look at the schematic on the desk. “Maybe a new airship?”

“Ooh, like a dirigible? I always found those to be so delightful. Having one around for aerial tours could be so fun, new residents would love it.” Emily cooed.

“Hey, you might need to check if he is going to cover it with guns. Sir Pentious loves his cannons and death rays.” Vaggie added

“Oh? You really think he might? I'll have to have a talk with- Ah!” Emily was cut off when Cherri bomb surged forward, shoving people aside to get to the painting. She stared at it, eye wide and face a mix of emotions for several seconds before her expression turned to anger and she began pounding her fist against the painting in a fury.

“Hey! Ya fucking old lizard! Look at me! I know you can hear me!” She yelled, pounding against the painting. Sir Pentious had no reaction, only pausing from his work to sharpen his pencil, oblivious to the angry arsonist on the other side of the painting. Charlie had to step in to restrain her for fear she might damage the painting, it would be a nightmare to have it redone. Cherri snarled, glaring down at Emily. “what's wrong with this fuckin’ thing? Why can't he hear shit?”

“I-it doesn't work that way!” Emily slipped behind Vaggie, using the former Exorcist as a shield from the angry sinner. “It's just a one way view, if you wanted to talk to him I'd need to open a portal.”

“And why don't ya?” Cherri growled

“W-well, Sinners can't go through portals to heaven without a lot of extra magic behind it, s-so I can't take you to him… and when we brought him to Hell to meet Charlie, he, well… Hell tried to uh-” flustered, Emily looked to Vaggie for help.

“Being in hell slowly started turning him back to his Sinner form, it took the high Seraphim to fix him, so we are worried if we bring him back then he'll get trapped here. Which would kind of fuck up the whole ‘getting to Heaven’ achievement.” Vaggie explained, unphased by Cherri’s anger.

“Are you okay, Cherri? I know you miss Sir Pentious, but this seems excessive.” as Charlie asked, Cherri yanked herself away from Charlie with a growl.

“Miss him? I need to yell at him! Senile old fuck thinks he can suck on my face then immediately blow himself up? D'ya Have any idea what that does to a girl's reputation?” Cherri spat, crossing her arms to glare at the vision of Sir Pentious again.

Charlie just rolled her eyes. Yeah, sure. Cherri was definitely emotional about her reputation and nothing else. Did they think she was dumb? She needed to work a lesson plan into the schedule about not suppressing your emotions or something. Every Sinner she met always seemed to be operating on four or five layers of suppressed issues… not that she didn’t have her own itty bitty minor repressed problems, but that was neither here nor there. The hotel was about fixing other people’s problems, not her own.

Thankfully, Angel stepped in to save the day. He seemed to be taking this a lot better.

“Shiiit, that's really him isn't it? I guess a free pass to Heaven makes up for how he got dusted.” Angel said, crossing one set of arms and resting the other on his hips. His usual thinking pose. “Ya’ know. Kinda still wonderin’ if this is a hoax, but it would explain some of Crazy’s behavior.”

“How do you mean?” Vaggie asked, seemingly curious.

“Well, you two didn't see tha fight, but she was being… weird? I dunno. Definitely not like the usual Exorcist stab-stab-move on. She got real whacko whenever she saw Cherri and I working together or Husk stepping up to save Nif. Like, psycho crazy laughing an’ shit. Thought she was on crack or somethin’, but I guess knowing one of the Sinners her boyfriend killed got to Heaven wasn't sittin’ straight on her brain.” Angel explained, keeping his eyes on the painting as he talked, but gave Vaggie a shrug towards the end.

“She has been a bit… off since the trial, though Lute was never that social to begin with” Emily added. 

Vaggie didn't say anything, just leaning on her spear and looking contemplative. Charlie knew something about that had struck a chord with Vaggie, after all she knew the other angel best. Charlie would have to ask later, Vaggie didn't seem in the mood to make it a discussion.

“Hey, Em… youz can use this magic trick to look in on anyone, anywhere?” Angel asked, glancing down at her. When she nodded, Angel got a strange look on his face. Several emotions flashed in quick succession. Hope, temptation, anxiety… sadness. Angel bit his lip, biting back whatever he might have asked. Charlie could practically see the moment any chance of vulnerability ran screaming behind walls of aloof, flirty humor. “Sooo… you ever peep on people? No shame in a little voyeurism.”

“W-w-what? No! N-no, I would never! I don't do that kind of thing, I swear! I-i’ve never even had a girlfriend, uh uh, boyfriend or any kind of friend! I mean, I have friends, lots of friends! J-just not any I’d… you know!” naturally gray skin flushed brightly with color as Emily fumbled out a response, putting her hands over her cheeks in a vain attempt to cover her blush. She was really innocent, that was fairly light for Angel’s usual banter… or maybe Charlie was just growing numb? Either way, Charlie elbowed Angel in the side.

“Ay! I was just askin’, I know how I’d use it” the laugh was painfully fake, even for Angel. Seriously, group lessons on repression, soon as possible.

“Not to interrupt this… lovely banter, but I’ve got a question.” Husk spoke up, drawing all eyes back to him. He leaned against the back of the couch, twisting the top off his flask. Niffty sat next to him, fidgeting with one of her needles. Niffty seemed off, lacking her usual manic grin, but she said nothing and left this to Husk. Husk took a rather long pull from his flask, wincing as it went down. Emily’s healing really must have done a number on his tolerance, he could usually drink from that thing without so much as a twitch. “Sir Pentious did the noble sacrifice and everything, not gonna downplay that or nothing… but, P was in Hell longer, committed worse crimes, and spent less time at the Hotel than Angel. So, why is Pentious up there, while Angel is still down here?”

Husk’s question was met with an uncomfortable silence. He had a point, if an unfortunate one. Sir Pentious had gone out nobly, but his sins weren’t exactly a short list. Granted, Angel hadn’t spent all of his time at the Hotel actually trying to improve, but in the time he did, he had made massive strides. That had been the discussion point at the first trial, Angel was provably a better person than he had been. In Charlie’s opinion, he deserved Heaven far more than some angels she had met… yet, he was still here. 

“Well… Remember how I said I got those delays on the extermination? A big reason was because even though we know that Redemption is possible… We still don’t know how. All that extra time is to try and figure out the method. I’m really hoping that all redemption doesn't involve a second death, it would be too risky to test… yet I can’t think of any other reasons why a reformed person wouldn’t just go on up.” Charlie sighed, shaking her head. The question had been put aside for now, but that didn’t mean it was far from her mind. There had to be some issue she wasn’t fully thinking through that would be a block against people getting redeemed. She shrugged, “maybe it has something to do with Angel being under contract?”

As soon as Charlie said it, she regretted it.

The faces of Angel, Husk, and Niffty visibly darkened. In their eyes was the kind of resignation that said they had suspected as such, but hadn’t dared to speak it aloud. Angel was held under a fairly light but nonetheless binding contract that kept him tied to Valentino’s studio. Based on Charlie’s brief interaction with the man, she knew that getting Angel out of contract was going to be extremely difficult… peacefully at least. Then Husk and Niffty were a different story. Charlie was so used to the pair that she often forgot that they were practically Alastor’s slaves. They didn’t speak much of their past, but they were deep in debt to the Radio Demon and he wasn’t the type to let things go easily… and that made them the lucky ones out of Alastor’s contractees. 

In showing them Sir Pentious’ ascension, Charlie had shown them hope. Promised that the climb to freedom wasn’t impossible… Then she slammed an iron grate in front of them. It made her feel sick to her stomach. 

She really needed to try talking about their contracts with Alastor. One more miracle to add to her impossible to-do list. Charlie suddenly felt tired, and she could see that the others probably wanted an out to go and digest this information through their own (likely unhealthy) coping mechanisms. For once she’d oblige them, at least until she could figure something out.

“Ahem! Right… So, great hotel meeting. Everyone has lots to think about. Let's call it a day. Vaggie and I have got to relocate Lute, then finish Emily’s tour… Everyone else, day off! We can worry about cleaning up tomorrow. Grand opening is gonna be delayed anyway.” Charlie forced a smile as best she could, knocking her knuckles against the painting. A push of her own sorcery was enough to break the enchantment, making the painting ripple again until it returned to normal. There were, at best, a few mumbles of agreement as her friends drifted off… looked like most of them were headed into Husk’s bar. No surprise.

Vaggie’s hand squeezed hers, the angel giving her a reassuring look. Charlie squeezed it back. One problem at a time, she reminded herself. One problem at a time.

Chapter Text

There had once been something beautiful in this place. 

She could see the signs of it. The echo of neatly arranged buildings and structures, now flooded ruins. A monument to order and purpose, long sunk into a desolate swamp. The thick fog did its best to shamefully hide the brittle shells of once stately buildings. A vain attempt to cover up what was long broken. The remnants of something beautiful, assaulted on all sides, broken to pieces, now left to fester and sink beneath stale water, green moss and ugly weeds.

Yet, as she looked around that war torn swamp, she wondered if it had been truly as perfect as she imagined. The buildings had the look of something magnificent, yet she saw nothing on the insides. No remnants of furniture, decoration or any signs of life. It must have crumbled remarkably quickly. All flash and glitter but no substance. Truly, it all felt hollow now… yet she mourned it all the same. 

Every step through the dark, miserable mire came with a disgusting sucking pop as the mud stuck to her boots. The muck at her feet was so rancid and black, she wasn’t sure if the dirt here had been mixed with water or blood. It seemed to stain every inch of her. There was certainly no chance of ever being clean again after wandering through this wasteland. Moving forward seemed impossible, pointless really. It felt like there should be nothing left at all. That would have made more sense. The flood should have wiped it all away, not left behind this sickly broken shell of a place. What point was there to go forward at all?

Stopping beside an old well, she tried to catch her breath. It was the only thing dry here. Despite the water logged ground around them, that bottomless well seemed dry as a corpse left in the sun. It had given all it had to give, now it seemed as hollow as everything else here. As hollow as she felt.

What was she even doing here? Why was she still here? After everything that happened, why was she still here?

Was there even a reason? Was it divine will or whimsy that had left her here?

She felt so lost. She never needed to think about where to go next, what to do next. Other people had set the direction and she followed eagerly. There was nothing wrong with that, right? But now… now she was alone and lost. The only place left to go was forward, but did she even want to? Was it worth it?

She eyed that awful, disgusting, broken, weak, pathetic, traitorous swamp with disdain. The fog rolled in around her, whether moving with the wind or shamefully trying to hide that wasteland from her critical gaze, it was hard to tell… but that shifting fog revealed something she hadn’t seen before.

A small hill sat at the center of that swamp, and sat atop it where three things she could only barely make out through the fog.

A tree, its bark blackened and its limbs sickly, sat atop the hill. All around it were piles of pale brown and yellow leaves. It looked diseased, barely clinging to a shred of life. Yet, it refused to bend under its own weight. It stood tall, high above everything around it. There was something almost… proud about it.

Stranger still were the two figures with the tree. She could barely see them at this distance, so the details were hard to make out but even from here she could see they were both soaked in red and gold blood, as if they had been engaged in a vicious battle.

A terrible black creature hung loosely from the branches of the tree. Its limbs long, its claws sank into the diseased yet defiant wood. The creature had a predatory feel about the way its golden eyes watched her from afar. Even from here, Lute could feel a deep and profound rage emanating from the beast. The source of its anger was not hard to guess, as golden manacles bound its wrists, hanging from the tree and leading to the figure below.

A radiant knight stood in gleaming armor, its silver sword planted in the ground, securing the golden chains in place. They stood ready and alert, keeping the beast bound and chained as an eternal, tireless sentinel. The knight radiated a soothing calm and sense of noble purpose that offset the hatred of the beast. Its gaze was intense, yet inviting. Calling her forward.

Drawing on her last shreds of strength, she pushed herself from the well and began the long miserable march onward, ever onward as the fog began to curl back in around her vision.

—

Consciousness came to Lute with the plodding steps of a geriatric old dog being called for its last meal. She was alive… What the fuck?

With the return of consciousness came the advent of sensation, which made her want to tell consciousness to fuck off. Her body was like something that had been chewed up and spat out. Every inch of her hurt. Her physical form was in rebellion, crying for salvation from the limitations and weakness of flesh. Still alive, still mostly functional, but god, at what cost?

Putting together coherent thoughts beyond ‘ouch, oof, pain’ was a struggle. Her brain was still booting up at an agonizingly slow pace. She vaguely remembered dreaming. There was half a memory, something about a marsh, a well, and a tree? Fucking meaningless dream nonsense. What kind of moron sits around and tries to pull meaning from dreams? Lute shoved that bundle of symbolic mental trash to the back of her brain as she did her best to focus on the present. While she waited for consciousness to become coherence, she opted to do a quick systems check.

Legs? Still present. Responsive. A testing twitch confirmed this but sent a bolt of pain from her left leg that made her hiss. Oh right. She'd been stabbed . In the thigh. Neat.

Arms? Still only one. All 5 fingers present. Knuckles gave minor protest, she had punched a lot of things so that was excusable. She did note that her prosthetic had been removed. Rude. One of her shoulders ached terribly. Another knife wound on the pile. Great news as always.

Torso? The spine reported no issues, but the ribcage made some protests at a particularly deep breath. Something was definitely cracked or broken. Filed under ‘issues to ignore’... That file was getting dense. Oh, also the back was on fire. Minor detail. The constant agony of sliced open skin and torn muscles was negligible really.

Wings? … Wings? Why weren't the wings responding? An attempt to flex her wings put all thoughts to a grinding halt. A generous description really. This was more the forceful stop of a car impacting a brick wall at top speed. Burning agony spread from the twin points of where her wings should have been. It was like Niffty stabbing her again. A blade driven into her nerve endings and twisted back at forth with gleeful, sadistic abandon. Worse than the pain were the memories.

Beaten. Broken. Shoved to the ground under the heel of a sadistic monster. They took her wings. Stripped her of what made her an angel. Reduced her to some sad bitch with a scrap of metal hanging over her head. This was worse than being dead. If she was dead she didn't have to lay in her weakness and misery. Didn't have to face the world as a broken shell of what she had once been. It would be so much easier.

It should have been easier. She should be dead. Gone out swinging. A final blaze of glory. A faithful soldier to the last breath… but no. She'd been a coward. Too weak to kill the Radio Demon, too afraid to face the eternal torment he leveraged against her soul… She took the coward's way out. Turning to the very princess she came here to kill and begging for help. She was a hypocrite, a coward, a traitor and more.. A sickly, crawling sensation of self loathing started in her core and started to spread to every inch of her being. She had been Lute. The Lieutenant. Second in command. Top Exorcist. Adam's Right hand. Heaven's sword. 256 years of service. She had been dedicated and loyal, did her job with an honest to God smile. Followed every order to the letter, even the ones that she regretted.

Yet, despite all of that, the moment the world shifted even slightly… She fell apart like a house of cards in a hurricane. Vaggie had been right. 

She was pathetic.

How had Vaggie survived this? The pain, the shame… the betrayal.

No. 

She didn't want to think about Vaggie or what she did to Vaggie. That was just one more thing on the pile she didn't want to think about in the blasted minefield of her brain. 

Lute squirmed into her bedding, hoping to find some comfort or distraction from the thoughts rattling around in her brain… which she did, because this bedding was… really nice? Soft, smooth, luxuriant. She had expected to wake up in a stone prison cell, perhaps with a straw bed if her captors were feeling generous. Not that they had a reason to. But no, she was laying face down on probably the second softest bed she'd ever touched. Adam's bed was naturally the first, the man enjoyed his luxuries. Lute opted for more basic accommodations in her own room.

Hesitantly, she cracked an eye open. An expanse of slightly glossy maroon fabric lay before her. Her fingers brushed the material experimentally… Holy shit, were these silk sheets? Why the fuck was she laying on silk sheets?

Lifting her head was like trying to lift a pile of bricks with your teeth, but she managed, getting a better look at the room. It was dim, only lit by the faint red light slipping around the edge of the curtains. At least that confirmed she was still in Hell. The room was spacious but not overly large, with accents in various shades of red, gold and black. There was minimal furniture, what one might consider the basics. The bed, bedside table, a desk and matching chair, dresser and a lamp. Simple basic arrangement, yet all of the furniture was of extremely fine make and of a uniquely vintage design. A kind of blend of art deco and Gothic stylings. The bed itself was a grand four poster thing, at least a queen size and far too grand for a single occupant in Lute's opinion.

Confusion and suspicion reared their heads in Lute's mind. She was happy enough to let them have the run of the place, it was better than the self loathing pity fest at least. She could put together that she must be in some part of the hotel… yet she was unsupervised, unrestrained, and allowed a space of comfort. That seemed absurd, wasn't she a prisoner? Sure, The Princess would likely be foolish enough to be so trusting and softhearted but Vaggie was smarter than that… or did they just assume Lute was too injured and weak to be a threat? Demons were arrogant enough to believe something like that.

The room had two doors, but she was pretty confident only one was an exit, the other was likely a bathroom. Escape out the window wasn't an option, in all likelihood she was several floors up based on the angle of the light coming through the window. Normally not an issue but… no wings. Any other time she might have risked the fall, but she was pretty fucked up and down an arm as well. The other door was likely locked. She could probably break it if it wasn't magically sealed. Only way to find out was to test it but that required getting out of bed. 

Fuck.

Her body existed in a low lying mire of misery, a cautious warning to not do anything stupid. Unfortunately, Lute was Lute. She'd had practice in pushing herself out of bed one handed, but it was notably more difficult with an injured leg and back. Trying to move her spine as little as possible, she worked herself to the edge of the bed. Managing it well enough, she slipped her right leg off the bed feeling the soft carpet under her toes. Carefully, she braced her weight on it and pushed herself up. Her right leg managed to hold her weight and with a mix of shuffling and small hops, she managed to get to one of the bed posts and pull herself up. Her left leg was tenuous but managed as long as she clutched the bedpost. Just the effort of getting this far had her sweating and breathing heavily.

Was she really this weak after a fight? She'd been roughed up after training plenty, managed to fly back to Heaven while missing an arm. She should already be pretty close to recovering. Either something was wrong with her ability to heal or her beating had just been that bad. Though in truth, she had never been this seriously injured in her entire life. Any kind of serious injury to an angel was new territory. 

She didn’t need to see herself to know she was a wreck.

Still, she took note of what she could see. Ugly bruises covered her normally pale skin in a disgusting rainbow of colors. She was dressed in poorly fitting clothing that didn’t belong to her, plain underwear and a loose shirt. The rest of her was covered in bandages and gauze, particularly her back which seemed covered from ass to neck. Lute frowned. The idea that she had been stripped, cleaned and bandaged while unconscious was far from pleasant, granted it had probably been necessary given her state… You weren't exactly going to dump a bloody half corpse on the silk sheets. Still, the idea of any of these demons seeing her nude form- She shuddered and pushed the idea away. There were more important problems than demon perverts. It's not like she had any dignity left to protect.

Priority one, she needed to get out of here… and maybe find some better clothes. The door and the dresser were on the other end of the room, because of course they were. She could decide which to try when she managed to limp that far. Balancing carefully, she let go on the bedpost. Step, right foot. Good. Step, left foot. Goo- BAD VERY BAD. Putting weight on her left leg sent a wave of pain through her, which made the leg buckle under her weight. She stumbled to the floor and ended up rolling onto her back.

Remember kids. Your situation can always get worse.

Her back touching the floor slapped her senses with a wave of agony so intense she almost blacked out then and there. An undignified yowl of pain escaped her lips before she could stifle it and roll back onto her stomach. Shit. Shitshitshit. Someone probably heard that. Lute worked to breathe slowly and deliberately to try to assert control of the mess of agonized warning signals that was her brain. Someone probably heard that, which meant they would come running. She was defenseless and injured and in a hotel full of monsters. She can't think about pain when survival is the new priority.

No. She wasn't entirely defenseless. The guitar. Without Adam, she had managed to make the divine relics accept her as its new master. Even Sera couldn't take it from her now, no matter what the Seraphim thought of her actions. She just needed to call it to her. Sitting up as much as she could, Lute held her hand out and willed the relic to her hand. Before it came at a mere thought, but now reaching in to pluck at that connection was straining, making her see spots. It came, shimmering into view as she gripped it. Relief filled her as her fingers closed around its gilded neck. The mere presence of the holy artifact seemed to invigorate her slightly, easing the aching pain of her back. Not enough to give her the energy to stand, but propping her limp body against the bed frame was a step up. At least that way she might get a swing off at anyone that came in the room.

Lute didn't have to wait long, she could hear approaching footsteps outside her door. She did her best to pull the guitar into an offensive stance given her position. She was ready. Come what may.

The door clicked, a lock being turned. Then it was pushed open with casual ease, rather than the aggressive door kicking she expected. She soon understood why. 

“About time you woke up.” Spoke the traitorous bitch herself as she leaned on the door frame with an infuriatingly smug grin. Vaggie. The traitor that started this mess. Even after seeing Vaggie at the trial, it was still shocking how much the woman had changed. That short hair she used to keep so neat had grown down past her knees, with bangs covering half her face. There were other more subtle changes, sharp pointed fingernails and the subtle beginnings of fangs in her mouth. Not yet a Fallen angel, but no longer an Exorcist for sure. “Have a good nap?”

“Silence, Filth.” Lute growled with all the anger she could muster in her weakened state. “I may be injured, but if you try anything I will fucking take you with me, traitor.” Lute raised the guitar up as best she could. Thanks to its feather light weight she was able to do so, but her hand was shaking. Unclear whether that was from weakness of fear. Likely both. Even if she hated to admit it, she knew she didn’t stand a chance against Vaggie in her current state.

For her part, Vaggie wasn’t impressed. Giving an exaggerated roll of her eye, she stepped forward and grabbed the guitar from Lute’s hand with a quick yank. Stupid Lute, she hadn’t even shifted it to an axe. Vaggie didn’t even have to try hard, Lute was entirely too weak to resist.

“Cute threat, but really, what was the plan? To bleed on me?” Casually flipping the guitar in the air, Vaggie caught it by the neck before she set it against the wall. Lute briefly considered calling it back just to spite the other angel, but based on the way her last attempt made her see spots, doing it again might actually make her pass out. “If I wanted you dead, could have done it any time for the two days you’ve been unconscious. You think I’d get a thank you for changing your bandages and making sure you got a nice room.”

“Fuck off, I’m not falling for whatever tricks you and your demon bitch are playing at. I swear I’ll-” Lute’s next words were cut off when Vaggie moved in a flash, pulling her spear out of seemingly nowhere and driving it forward. In a flash of silver, the blade was pressed against Lute’s throat and she wisely decided to shut her mouth. Galling as it was, she was at Vaggie’s mercy. Of all the ways Lute saw herself dying, sitting on the floor leaning against a bed because she was too tired to stand was not a particularly dignified one.

“Lute.” Vaggie’s voice was thick with venom and hatred as she loomed over Lute, pressing the spear just a bit closer so its tip brushed Lute’s skin. She could feel her pulse quicken as Vaggie narrowed her gleaming eye at Lute. “I’m going to give you this warning exactly one time. You can say whatever you want about me, I do not give a single shit about your opinion. However, You keep talking about Charlie like that and I’ll finish what Alastor started. You are only alive because Charlie saved your ass and only here because she was too nice to banish you to a lower ring and leave you at the mercy of the Sins. So, stop being an ass and try a little goddamn respect towards the person you owe your life to.”

“Respect? To a demon? What fucking nonsense.” Even when she could feel her pulse beating against the razor sharp metal, Lute was not short on defiance. “Hell really has warped your brain if you think I'd ever submit myself to your little Princess.”

“Is that so?” To Lute's surprise, Vaggie actually relaxed, dropping the spear as a smile crept back onto her face. The woman's smug aura mocked her. “I seem to recall you singing a different tune. Looked pretty good to see you on your knees, begging Charlie to tell you what to do.”

“S-shut your mouth!” Lute snapped, feeling her cheeks warm. It had to have been unintentional, but Vaggie's poor choice of wording conjured a rather different image than the bloody mess it had actually been. A disgusting thought. “I was delirious from blood loss. I would never submit myself to her while in my right mind. A mere mistake.” Lute explained, tired of having to look up at Vaggie. Gripping the bed frame and trying to bend her back as little as possible, Lute worked on the grueling task of just standing up. Despite everything, she was still taller than Vaggie. Getting to look down at the other angel would at least help soothe her wounded pride.

“Angels don't make mistakes.” Turning Lute's own mantra back on her, Vaggie enjoyed the look of utter disdain Lute shot her. Deciding to be ‘helpful’ Vaggie stepped forward and helped Lute too her feet by grabbing a fistful of her shirt and yanking her up with little effort. Her single ivory eye locked with Lute's own golden ones for a moment before she lightly shoved Lute. Too weak to resist, she fell back onto the bed right on her back. A fresh new wave of agony took over Lute's senses despite how soft her landing was.

“F-fucking… bitch…” Lute managed through gritted teeth as she struggled to control her breathing through the pain. She heard a slight dragging sound, cracking an eye open. She saw Vaggie dragging the chair over from the desk to get comfortable by the bed. Front row seat to her misery. After some eternity, Lute was able to at least get herself into a sitting position so she could properly glare at her torturer. “I don't know what you and your princess are planning for me, but it won't work. I may be weak now, but I will escape. Once I do, I will get back to Heaven and bury this godforsaken ring in holy flame.”

Her threats, of course, did not land. If anything they only seemed to amused the other angel further. 

“Is that so? Might be a few minor details in your way for that plan. Been waiting for this talk.” Humming happily to herself, Vaggie reached behind her and pulled out a scroll of golden paper. Had she been hiding that in her hair? Nevermind. More importantly, why did Vaggie have an angelic scroll? Sealed… with the stamp of the Seraphim?? “Yeah, you know what this is don't you? You can read it when you like, but I've got spoilers. Official decree of banishment from the high Seraphim for crimes against Heaven. Welcome to the traitor club, Lute.” 

The bottom dropped out of Lute's stomach. No. Nonono NO. This was some kind of trick or a lie… but how could they get the Seraphim's seal? It had to be fake. Forcing pain to the back of her mind, she scrambled forward to snatch the scroll from Vaggie's hand. Fumbling to open it one handed, she ended up tearing the seal off with her teeth. She could literally taste the thrum of divine magic when the seal broke, it was authentic, that was impossible for even the Devil to fake. Still, surely it couldn't really be orders of banishment? It must be… be… secret orders probably! She unrolled it, eyes desperately scanning through the lines of text.

All the will and energy left her as she read. Vaggie was right. Official declaration of banishment for crimes against Heaven.

Disobeying direct orders.

Breaking of probation.

Endangerment of diplomatic relations.

Unlawful attempts to incite a war.

Theft of a divine relic.

Unlawful assault on protected entities.

The list went on but it slipped from Lute's shaking fingers. She was banished. Declared a traitor. Trapped in Hell. Doomed to an eternity away from Heaven's light. Outlined in detail were her crimes, ones she couldn't properly deny. She had clung to what she knew, even though the will of Heaven had changed… and now she was cast out.

Wait. Oh no. Oh god. 

Lute tried to look up in vain, shit, she couldn't see- Fuck. Reaching up, she grasped desperately at the air above her. Her fingers only clawed at empty air. No. That was impossible. They wouldn't- 

“It's not there Lute.” Vaggie said, for once, the humor faded from her voice. She looked at Lute, devoid of any visible emotion. “Sera ordered it removed.”

Her halo was gone.

The revelation felt like something shattering in her mind, peeling away her own delusion and leaving the ugly truth in its wake. The writing had been on the wall. Changing world or not, If Lute had kept her mouth shut and followed orders, she wouldn't be in Hell right now. But no, she thought she knew better. Knew better  than Heaven. Her crimes were far more direct acts against Heaven than Vaggie's mere act of mercy. She deserved this. She wanted to be angry. To scream, to rage, to cry, to anything… but she just sat there. She felt so empty.

“Oh god damn it.” Vaggie sighed dramatically, getting Lute's attention. She had expected Vaggie's earlier amusement to return in force with Lute's misery. Surely the point of this had been to engage in a little schadenfreude at Lute's expense. Instead her look was pitying. “You're ruining this for me, you know?”

Well. That managed to snap Lute out of her spiral. Good old fashioned rage putting her head back on straight.

“Sorry my fucking downfall isn't entertaining enough, you bitch.” Lute hissed.

“It really isn't. Kind of a let down.” Vaggie sighed, unphased by Lute’s tone. “You know. I dreamed of this moment for years. Even after I got used to living down here, I still dreamed of that moment where I got payback for what you did to me. Wanted you to suffer as I did. To know exactly how I felt. Broken, cast down, betrayed, abandoned.” Despite trying to cling to her anger, every word hit Lute like a slap in the face. She'd tried to bury it under her dedication to her duty, but a part of her had always been pained by the memory of casting Vaggie down. It was supposed to have been the right thing to do, no matter her feelings on the matter. The punishment for disobeying order was clear but more and more that felt a flimsy justification. Vaggie continued on, gesturing at Lute's current state. “But look at you. It's just… sad. Worse that you did it to yourself in some crazed suicide attempt.”

“Suicide?” Lute scoffed. “What the fuck are you talking about? I was coming to kill you and your pet Princess! I just made a mistake about where you'd be and had to compromise on killing your filthy Sinner Friends” Lute said defensively.

“Bull and shit, Lute. You might be able to trick someone else with that zealot crap, but I know you better. You're not that fucking stupid and we both know it. Fancy magic weapon or not, you saw exactly how powerful Charlie was. You literally don't stand a chance in Hell if she gets pissed enough to actually fight you. And that's if you managed to beat me, which I'll remind you, didn't go great for you last time.” Vaggie shot back.

“... You got lucky in our last fight.” Lute didn't like where this talk was going. Why couldn't Charlie have been the one to find her? Hell, she might take Alastor over this.

“Lesson four, be mindful of your surroundings in a fight, use them to your advantage. Lesson six, arrogance is your opponent’s fatal flaw, exploit it whenever possible.” Vaggie parroted the very lessons Lute had taught her so long ago. “I caught you monologuing and you lost an arm for it. I beat you, fair and square.”

Lute just grumbled and turned away. Vaggie had a very annoying habit of turning Lute's own words against her.

“You knew fighting Charlie and I was a losing game. You had no plans to actually get back to Heaven. I guess that explains why you were holding back against my friends.” Vaggie's accusation stung worse than her wounds. 

“I was not holding back. I would never hold back against damned Sinners. They were just- they were armed with holy weapons. Surprisingly effective teamwork… for Sinners.” Lute mumbled, still not looking at Vaggie.

“Uh huh. I guess that explains why you waited so long to bring out the stupid guitar. Sense of honor or some other bad excuse? You've never cared about fighting Sinners ‘honorably’ before.” Vaggie was baiting her, and she knew it. Didn't mean she was smart enough to not take the bait.

“They don't deserve honor or mercy. They're Sinners. I did everything in my power to kill your so-called friends. If that damn red eyed Radio freak hadn't arrived, I'd have repainted your fucking hotel in the blood stained gore of their broken bodies.” Lute said, daring to glare back at Vaggie. The cast down angel should have been angrier than this. It should be so easy to rile her up, but she sat cool as a cucumber and smug as hell. Damn it.

“You're a bad liar, Lute. Always have been. It helps if you decide on whether you're lying to me or to yourself. Lute, I know you better than that. I spent my entire life looking up to you in some fashion. The best warrior in the Exorcists. You were my commander and I your tactician. Once upon a time that was a job I was proud to have.” The flicker of pain in Vaggie's eye was clear but Lute just looked away, refusing to acknowledge their past. Instead, Vaggie shoved on with the uncomfortable present. “I know exactly what you're capable of. Not to downplay my friends, but you're straight up a better fighter than them. I believe you actually tried against Alastor but everyone else? You were pulling punches. Fuck, Lute. Husk straight up told me you had Niffty by the throat and just stood there like a dumbass! You told me, lesson fucking one, never stop moving longer than necessary in a fight. Take every advantage and opening you can get! Kill quickly and efficiently! Where was that Lute!?” Vaggie was yelling now, peppering her with questions and accusations. Each hit their mark and crawled insidiously under her skin.

“Just shut up.”

“This isn’t even the first time, is it?” Vaggie pressed her further, jamming the needles in. Lute didn’t even have the strength to fight back or run away. “What was it you said after I beat you? ‘Correct your mistake’?”

“ Shut. Up. ” Lute hissed.

“The Lute I remember would never have given up so easily, never hesitated when fighting anyone or anything. You though, you’re rushing dick first into fights you know you can’t win, pissing off people far more powerful than you with no real goal! What was the fucking plan Lute?” Vaggie kept pressing and finally Lute could take it no more.

“ FINE ! FUCK YOU, FUCKING FINE! I WANTED ONE OF THEM TO KILL ME!” Lute screamed at Vaggie, loud enough she figured the entire hotel could hear it. The admission made her sick to her stomach, staring down her own naked weakness, revealed for all to see. But she was on a roll now, looking Vaggie full on, no longer shying away from the cast down Angel. She wanted to see Lute at her worst? Well, here it was. “Does that make you fucking feel better? Make you feel big? To see how far I’ve fallen? I came down here because I… I can't live like this. I can't live in a world where the rules that have defined my fucking existence can just … change on some princess' fucking whim! Our entire existence, Sinners have been monsters to be slain. Pests. An annoyance at best, a threat to cut off at worst. And now, all of a sudden! Out of the blue! They're supposed to be people now? People that can get away with defying Heaven!?” Lute growled, tugging at her hair in frustration and building anger. The words were just spilling out of her mouth now with no stopping them. “And the angels at the trial look at me like I'm some savage goddamn animal for following the rules they fucking created me to follow? Nonono No! I can't just shut my mouth and pretend like I'm okay with this. I can't live in a world that no longer makes sense. So yes! I came here figuring that one of your bastards would get the lucky shot and kill me! Maybe if I died by your hands, Heaven would wake up from their collective dream and the world would be right again!”

The rant left Lute panting for breath, and she didn't know if she felt better or worse for finally saying it all out loud. Any weight lifted from her shoulders at the admission mixed poorly with the empty feeling in her chest. Her head felt light from the blood rush associated with yelling, she probably shouldn't be doing this kind of emotional revelation bullshit while injured.

Vaggie's reaction was predictably muted. It was clear she had rather well guessed Lute's issues, based on how she'd been needling her. After all that, Vaggie's expression actually softened rather than showing signs of anger. Lute was beginning to notice a terrible pattern since she had come to Hell. Seeing sympathy where there should have been anger turned her stomach.

“It hurts… realizing you were lied to. I know, it wasn’t any easier when I realized it.” Vaggie said, in a tone that was likely meant to inspire compassion and mutual understanding and all that dumb fucking emotional nonsense. It only stoked the coals in Lute’s chest.

“Lied to? Oh, Shut up. We weren’t lied to. Just because your Damn Princess managed to convince Heaven of her bullshit, doesn’t change the facts. Sinners are still Sinners. They're evil. Still broken mortals who wasted their shot in life, and only exist to die again. The facts don’t change.” Lute replied, smirking as she finally got an annoyed frown out of Vaggie.

“Mierda. Come on, you can’t seriously expect me to believe that you still buy that crap. Not after everything you’ve seen. Emily told me that you know about Sir Pentious getting redeemed for fuck’s sake!” Vaggie sat up in her chair, annoyed at Lute’s stubbornness. 

“Some trick ordained by the Adversary and his daughter. I refuse to accept it” Lute said flatly.

“More lying to yourself! Fucking fantastic” Vaggie clapped her hands sarcastically. “I’ve lived with these people for years and yeah, I’m more willing to admit than Charlie that a lot of them are fucking bad people. Really bad! However, just as many are people that were only bad because of their situation or are at least willing to change. You had to have seen it when you were fighting during the Extermination and your attack. They’re real people, with friends and families and people they care about”

Lute’s face twitched. Memories hit her against her will. Flashes of how the spider and the cyclops worked so well together, how they protected each other. All of them coming together to protect the hotel in Adam’s assault. The looks on their faces when Adam destroyed the airship. Lute shook her head, forcing the thoughts away. Vaggie seemed to sense her turmoil and continued talking.

“You remember the day you cast me down. The Sinner I spared.” 

“Believe it or not, I try to not think about your downfall when I can…” Lute mumbled.

“He was a kid, a cannibal. Can’t have been more than ten when he died. Tell me, how do you think that happened?” Vaggie asked.

“His family was probably in a cult or something, why should I care?” Lute scoffed.

“I met him and his mother when Charlie took me to visit cannibal town a few days ago. He still remembered me, even with my hair grown out.” a sad smile crossed Vaggie’s lips as she explained, sitting back and looking down at her hands. “I couldn’t help myself. I had to ask… his mother told me that they were some of the only survivors of a plane crash about 20 years ago. Lost and stranded in the wilderness, they did what they had to do to try to survive… It ended up being in vain. They found each other in Hell and Rosie’s community really helped them adjust and accept what they had become. Their life and death was tragic, but they live a good life in a friendly community now.”

“As cannibals.” Lute bit back, but the jab was hollow and Vaggie knew it. The story struck something in Lute, whether she liked it or not. How many other Sinners damned themselves because they had no other choice? Fuck. no. she can’t- “I don’t care. Sinners are sinners, that's all they can ever be. Mortals are flawed, spending their short lives scrambling for purpose. Some get lucky and go to Heaven. Winners, Heavenbound, whatever you want to call them. Most get unlucky, they go to Hell because they deserve it.” Venom and righteous fury seeped back into Lute’s voice as she scooted to the edge of the bed, sitting only a foot away from Vaggie now. “ We aren’t supposed to have that problem. We were built with a purpose. One single purpose. We were built to be Exorcists, nothing more and nothing less. Exorcists kill Sinners because they deserve to die. Simple as that. No exceptions. Ever. ”

“Fucking Hell, Lute, I know you’re stubborn but come on! You said it yourself, the facts don't change just because you don’t like them. You've seen evidence dumped at your feet time and again. A redeemed Sinner. Sinners caring for each other. The Princess of Hell offering you of all people mercy. Just face the facts, for fucks sake!” Vaggie snarled back

“I won’t accept Sinners are people!” Lute stood up now, shouting down at Vaggie. Anger boiling in her veins enough to make her ignore the waves of pain the movement caused. “I won’t accept that they can just change. Sinners cannot change! They can never be worthy of Heaven! You were supposed to be the smart one, Vaggie you should be ashamed you fell for any of this cra-” Lute was cut off by Vaggie.

“Won't accept it or can't? Why, because it means admitting that Heaven lied to you?” Vaggie was needling her again. She knew it, she shouldn't take the bait…

“Heaven didn't- it's not- Fuck, shut up! Won't or can't, it doesn't matter! They are what they are! They don't change!” Lute growled

“They can change! You've seen it! You knew before we did!” Vaggie shot back.

“I refuse to believe it! I can't let it be true!” Lute felt cornered, Vaggie wasn't giving her time to think. 

“Why? Why can't you let it be true?” Vaggie was leaning forward, Lute felt the instinct to pull back. Her foot bumped against the bed frame as she tried to step back. She really didn’t have anywhere to run.

“B-because. I can't. I-” This was bad. Disengage, abort, shift course, anything!

“Why!? Just tell me why!” Vaggie shouted again, leaning forward and glaring up at Lute. In the back of her mind, she knew where this was going. Knew that Vaggie knew as well. 

“I-I… I-” 

“SAY IT.” The words were commanding as they finally pushed Lute over the edge.

“BECAUSE I’M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE THE MONSTER!” If Lute's earlier admission was a crack in the dam, this was the dam breaking down and flooding a small town.  All the horrible little thoughts that had been lurking in Lute's mind for far longer than she wanted to admit suddenly found purchase and began pushing their way out her throat. “I-if I just… accept that Sinners are people, that they can change, t-that they can be- c-can be saved… I have to accept it's always been true! I just said, we Exorcists have one function. Made for one thing and one thing only! We kill Sinners, and that's what I did. I followed my purpose, obeyed the rules and did my job to the best of my ability.” 

Her legs trembled, her hand began twitching again. Lute was rambling now, and Vaggie seemed happy to let her.

“If I accept that my orders were wrong and all the Sinners I killed might have been saved then that… that makes me- Fuck. I fucking-  I was one of the best. The best probably! I-i-i killed so many! So so many… I don't even know! Maybe, what? 200ish every extermination? After 256 years that must be-” Lute's rambling was getting frantic, swirling around the point like water in a drain. She did the math as best she could given her mental state. “S-shit… that's well over 51,000? Dead by my hands alone”

The energy seemed to evaporate from Lute, leaving her trembling under the crushing weight of reality. She flopped weakly back onto the bed, staring empty eyed at the floor.

“That… that makes me… I… I'm one of the greatest murderers in mortal history. T-there have been wars with less death than that dealt by my hands.” Lute's breath was shaky, eyes unfocused. Her mind was alive with a lifetime of blood and gore, all of which she dealt with such glee and purpose. Centuries of bloodshed. It had been so easy when Sinners weren't people. Hollow shells of broken humanity. Bugs to crush underfoot and move on. But now… if they could have changed, if they weren't as wicked as she thought… “How many… might have been saved. Hundreds? T-thousands?”

“No way to know.” Vaggie said simply, watching Lute’s spiral with an unreadable expression.

“I was made with a purpose. To be an Exorcist, the perfect Exorcist, the perfect soldier. My purpose defines who I am but if that purpose means… if Exorcists kill Sinners, but killing Sinners is w-wrong… what does that make me?” Lute asked weakly. “I-i-i’m a soldier. I’m supposed to protect people from Sinners, from monsters. I’m supposed to be good… but If I’ve been killing people that could have been saved, then doesn’t that make me… a monster? H-how am I supposed to live in a world where I’m the monster?”

Tears blurred Lute's vision, the weight of it all pushing down on her. She was made to kill monsters, not be one. How was she supposed to go on like this? Look the people she slaughtered by the thousands in the eye and ask forgiveness? She tried to tell herself it wasn't her fault. She was a soldier, following orders. But the words felt hollow. She remembered looking back at the end of Extermination days, seeing streets streaked with blood and corpses by the thousands and feeling such…. Pride . She twitched when she felt Vaggie's hand rest on her shoulder. For a moment, a flash of vindictive anger sputtered in Lute's heart. She wanted to scream at Vaggie for pushing this out of her. To break her down, say that Vaggie was just as much of a monster as she was. Ask her how she could live among Sinners after all she had done to them…

But when she looked at Vaggie, the words died in her throat. She could see it in her eye, her expression. Vaggie knew all of that. She'd come to this conclusion long before Lute had. She had been carrying the same burden on her shoulders.

“... How… how can you live like this?” Lute asked, practically begged. “Walk out there and face them, face her?”

“It's not easy. Charlie… She's more than I deserve. She's willing to forgive what I was, what I did. Doesn't mean I am. That's why I support her dream, try to make up for the damage I've done.” Vaggie sighed, looking tired now. Despite everything, it was clear that Vaggie had not enjoyed pushing Lute to this, but her expression made it clear that she had viewed it as some kind of grim necessity. She withdrew from Lute, standing to turn away. “I'd do anything for Charlie and her dreams… even if that means putting up with you. She is the one willing to give you a chance to do better, to be better. Take it, it's more than you deserve.” Vaggie took a last, long look at Lute, then gave a defeated sigh. “Look, Lute. I don't know when- If I'll be able to forgive you for what you did to me. It's not something I can easily forgive and forget. That being said, It's… nice to finally have someone else who actually understands what I'm going through.”

Vaggie gave Lute the smallest ghost of a smile before she turned and walked to the door. Lute raised a hand as if to stop her, but dropped it just as quickly. A part of her she thought long dead craved Vaggie’s company, hoping that her former friend might provide much needed comfort in this agony. At the same time, as Lute was left stripped of the defenses she had used to justify her life, she was all too aware of how much she didn’t deserve Vaggie’s sympathy. Instead she just curled up on the bed. The fine silk sheets felt wrong against her skin. She should just leave it at that… but she couldn't help herself.

“Vaggie…” she spoke the name softly, the angel stopped at the door but didn't turn back. “Your wings… they grew back.” it was both a question and an observation, layered thick with a thousand different meanings that Lute didn’t have the strength to speak. 

“They did… your wings might too, if you earn them. Get some rest Lute, I'll send Frank up with some food and water. Try not to smash him, yeah?” And with that, the door clicked shut, leaving Lute alone with her misery 

Chapter Text

In the four days that followed, not much changed. She had known that was a distinct possibility, this was something of a delicate situation after all…. But it didn't make Charlie any less impatient. Immortal she may be, but Charlie was a creature of the present, she liked quick results. Yes yes, objectively she understood that matters of redemption take time and are difficult to quantify…. But was it too much to ask for some tangible results? She got nervous about losing momentum if she wasn't seeing signs of progress.

For this, Charlie was extremely grateful to have Vaggie in her life. Her angel had the very difficult job of helping to keep Charlie grounded and reminding her that things like this took time. They had already pushed their luck with Vaggie forcing some heavy truth bombs on Lute within minutes of her waking up, something Vaggie had insisted was a cruel necessity. Pushing too hard now ran the risk of losing the progress they had gained. Still, Charlie understood all that but to say the pace had turned glacial was an understatement.

It had been four days since Lute woke up and what had changed in that time? Lute finally started eating food after starving herself for two days and there were signs she occasionally sat in her chair rather than laying in bed all day. That's it. The injured angel hadn't spoken more than a handful of words and the occasional grunt, hadn't made any effort to leave or escape, hadn't even made any kind of request, nothing. Given her past experience with Lute and everything she heard, Charlie had expected a bit more…. Energy out of the woman rather than the ‘suffer in silence’ routine.

Sighing, Charlie considered the door in front of her for a few more moments. Might as well get it over with. Forcing in a smile, Charlie knocked out a cheerful rhythm, “Lute! You awake in there?”

Clutching the bag of medical supplies she brought, Charlie waited a few beats. Naturally she got no response, she never got a response. Nothing new. “Okay! I'm coming in.”

Having announced herself as best she could, Charlie unlocked and pushed open the door. The scene inside surprised her. The room looked much as it had on the last visit or two, practically untouched aside from the messy bed and the chair. Rather, it was Lute that had changed, specifically she had changed clothes. Two days ago, Charlie had taken up a collection of some spare clothes from the staff as cleaning up after the fight had left her too busy to go out and buy Lute some new clothes… and Vaggie had burned the blood stained scraps of Lute’s old uniform. The pile of clothing had been as untouched as everything else but it seemed that Lute had finally gathered up the will to make use of it.

“Princess.” Lute said, a frosty acknowledgement of her presence. About as close as Lute seemed capable of a friendly greeting.

“Hey! See you finally picked some clothes, you’re looking… better.” Charlie said, enthusiastically. She couldn’t say that Lute was looking ’good’ because she wasn’t, but it was an improvement over the rumpled t-shirt and underwear she’d been rocking until now. Lute’s current outfit seemed to be one of Charlie’s red button up shirts, a black pair of slacks donated by Husk, and some old looking boots that Cherri found on the side of the road. None of it fit great, the shirt especially was buttoned incorrectly and hung loosely off one shoulder. Lute wasn’t especially tall, only having about an inch or so on Vaggie but unlike the other angel, Lute was more… endowed in the region of the bust, which meant the only shirts that fit her came from Charlie or Cherri, but it seemed Lute had rejected any of the tight fitting, strategically ripped shirts that Cherri. Combined with the woman’s dead eyed stare and messy hair, It all had a kind of ‘sad girl chic’ vibe if Charlie was being generous.

The look seemed antithetical to what Charlie knew of Lute. The handful of times she had interacted with the angel she had thought of Lute as being exceptionally neat and orderly. An extreme contrast to the overgrown manchild she spent her time with, Lute had always been standing at attention, made an effort to speak properly and generally keep an air of professionalism about her. This Lute was… well, a mess. Devoid of energy or any visible emotion aside from a general air of depression. Lute, predictably, didn’t respond to the attempted compliment, just watched Charlie from her chair with an aura of moody silence about her. Tough crowd, tough crowd.

“Well, it's always good to see signs of improvement. Sorry if I’m a little late today, got held up waiting on a delivery for the new front doors. It was a whole thing, having to wait around to sign for the delivery, then having the check that the doors arrived in good condition, then arguing with the delivery guy because he got in a huff about us not trusting his delivery skills, which yeah we don’t because last time he delivered a glass door it came cracked. Absolutely can’t have a grand opening with cracked doors.” Charlie went on, chatting about her day, being met with Lute’s continued oppressive silence. Opening up her med kit, Charlie began setting out all the tools she would need. When she had been young, she had thought Auntie Belphie’s lessons of first aid were a waste of time, but she had been getting a lot of mileage out of them in recent years. “Let's get those bandages changed and see how you’re healing up. So, tell doctor Charlie, any changes? New aches and pains I should worry about?”

More mute response, but this time she got a short shake of the head to indicate the negative. Well, no news was good news. Pulling on some gloves, Charlie stepped over to kneel next to Lute’s chair and get to work. According to Vaggie and her dad, Angels healed pretty quickly and Charlie was seeing that to be more or less true. Any of the ugly bruising that had colored Lute’s skin had already faded, returning to its natural marble white color. If that had been the sum of the damage, Lute would already be good as new. Unfortunately, wounds left behind by holy weapons were a different beast. Even with the best treatment possible and magical medicines, Lute was looking at a slow recovery.

Thankfully, Lute was a surprisingly good patient. Didn’t squirm, listened to directions, and let Charlie do her work without questions. Honestly at times it felt more like practicing on a medical dummy than a real person. The Princess had expected a lot more resistance from the angel, there had been some on the first day after Lute woke up but it had quickly settled into a kind of dull indifference. Lute refused to make eye contact with Charlie but that was the extent of her resistance to the matter.

One by one, Charlie checked each of Lute’s major injuries. Many smaller scratches didn’t need attending to and she was pretty sure that Emily had put in some effort to heal a good bit of internal damage despite Vaggie’s insistence that Lute only receive the bare minimum healing. Only a guess, but one she was confident of as the first time Charlie patched Lute up while she was unconscious, she had noted a lot of bruising around the ribs that would normally indicate cracked or broken ribs but everything had felt solid when Charlie touched it. There was a long gash from Lute’s collarbone across her shoulder, but the stitching seemed to be holding strong and the bleeding wasn’t too bad so that was easy to get some clean gauze over. The next worst injury was Lute’s leg, which did require some awkward shifting as Lute pushed her pants down to expose the injury. It's just medical treatment, it doesn’t have to be weird. A very deep puncture wound courtesy of Niffty and made worse by Alastor. It was probably going to take the longest to heal and Charlie was watching it very intently to make sure it didn’t get infected. Alastor tended to get his hands dirty with everything from blood to roadkill and he had shoved his dirty thumb right into the wound according to Husk. Honestly, Charlie wasn’t sure if angels could get infections, but she wanted to be vigilant. After getting that taken care of, Charlie stood back up, tossing the old bandages in a plastic bag to be taken out later. 

“It's uh, the back next… do…. Do you need any help?” Charlie asked, trying to give Lute a smile but instead she got a cold glare. Lute was determined to receive the least amount of help possible it seemed. The princess stood by awkwardly as Lute worked to push herself up from her chair, an inelegant task considering she had one arm and one functional leg to work with. Even the act of getting out of her chair left the angel looking exhausted, doing a poor job of hiding how much pain she was in. Lute looked miserably at the distance between the chair and the bed as if it was a bed of hot coals rather than carpet. It might as well be for her. Charlie wanted to help, as much as she had reason to be angry with Lute, she wasn’t the type to watch people torture themselves. Unfortunately, it seemed Lute was primed to try to bite her if Charlie did something as personally insulting as help the angel walk across the room.

Averting her eyes from Lute’s pained awkward shuffle across the carpet, Charlie experimentally inspected Lute’s meal tray. Lifting the cloche, she saw that Lute had eaten about half the sandwich she’d been given, most of the fruit and thankfully all the medicine. That was good at least, even if it seemed like the painkillers were only barely getting Lute by. As she turned back, Lute had finally made it to the bed, awkwardly struggling to pull her shirt over her head, revealing a thick padding of bandages and gauze pads that covered almost the entire area from her shoulders to her hips. Alastor’s handiwork.

By necessity of her many injuries, Lute wasn’t wearing a bra or any other coverings and well, Charlie wasn’t exactly looking but she made some observations about Lute’s figure. Purely scientific observations mind you. Exorcists tended to all look the same in mask and uniform, so it was interesting to note the subtle differences between them. Lute was noticeably more muscular and sturdy compared to Vaggie's lean and lithe build. Well defined abs, broader shoulders, very athletic while still  being obviously feminine. Lute and Vaggie even moved differently. Vaggie had a quick and soft step as she moved, naturally graceful like a dancer. Lute had a heavy, purposeful stride that was a fitting match to her intense personality.

Finally freed of her shirt, Lute flopped face down onto the bed, groaning painfully into the sheets. Time for the hard part, Charlie could already see blood soaking through the bandages. Gently as she could, Charlie worked to peel away the thick layer of gauze and bandages. It was an unpleasant sight. 

Glowing gold angel blood tended to turn to an ugly yellow-brown crust when it dried, something that would look dangerously infected on anyone else. The worst of it were the giant jagged wounds that represented where wings had once been. They had not been removed quickly or cleanly. Vaggie's own scars were comparably near and clean in contrast… Still, a dark part of Charlie felt that had been at least partially deserved. Not that she agreed with Adam's ‘eye for an eye’ bullshit or anything but if that had been the extent of it, Charlie might not have been as inclined to jump to Lute's aid. The rest of Lute's back was just painful to look at. Zig zags and curling lines of torn flesh, pain for pain’s sake. Charlie had done her best to stitch it up, but there was a lot of damage. Each cut revealed golden flesh beneath, the effect was somewhat reminiscent of kintsugi but more like someone had taken a sledgehammer to the back of a marble statue and haphazardly poured gold paint in the cracks.

“Ugh, you popped some of your stitches again, I asked you if anything was wrong and you said no!” Charlie chided, revealing several broken stitches as she had started to use a wet cloth to clean off some of the clotted blood. 

“Nothing major.” Lute turned her head slightly to mumble a response, surprising Charlie that she answered at all.

“It is major. It won’t heal right otherwise.”

“None of it will heal right.” Lute grumbled bitterly, but didn’t protest when Charlie began plucking out the snapped stitches. Charlie couldn’t exactly argue that.

“Well, it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. Broken things can be fixed, even if they end up a little different.” Charlie said, pouring disinfectant on a needle. Applying stitches on an angel wasn’t a quick or easy experience. As Vaggie had predicted, Lute’s angelic invulnerability had left with her halo so thankfully Charlie didn’t need a special holy needle, but Lute’s flesh was still about as tough as her personality. It took some of Charlie’s enhanced strength to work the needle through flesh and she knew it was a pretty painful experience with Lute. the Angel took it all with no complaint beyond the occasional grunt.

“... You don’t have to do this.” Lute said after a minute of Charlie stitching in silence. The princess was rather surprised at Lute talking at all, much less talking without prompting. Even if it was a stilted conversation, it was some of the progress Charlie was hoping to see.

“No. No I don’t.” she responded, “I don’t have to do anything. Privilege of being a princess. Caring for Sinners, building the Hotel, arguing with Heaven, stitching you up. I don’t have to do any of it and I certainly get quite a few headaches for trying.” Charlie explained, thinking of the degrading way Lute talked to her the first time they met and pulling a stitch a bit tighter than necessary. She took a breath, centering herself and not letting her temper get the better of her. “But I do it anyway. Because someone should, because it's the right thing to do… I hope so anyway.”

Lute didn’t have any other insights to add after that, remaining face down on the bed and silent as Charlie finished restitching her wounds and reapplying layers of bandages. After a few minutes, Charlie seemed satisfied with her work and went about gathering up the dirty bandages, stripping off her gloves and gathering up her equipment. She gave a last look at Lute, who remained face down on the bed, making no effort to get up.

“... Right, well. Good check up. Frank should be up in a few hours to bring dinner, I think Angel was planning on making chicken parm, so that’ll be tasty.” Giving a forced smile, Charlie watched for any reaction from the angel but got none. Lute’s talkative mood had faded it seemed. “I will be back tomorrow. Let me know if you need anything.” Charlie sighed as she made her way out the door. Just as she was about to shut the door, Lute made a muffled reply but Charlie couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be a ‘go away’ or a ‘thank you’. Opting for optimism, Charlie decided to lean towards the second interpretation. 

Standing alone in the hallway, Charlie made a motion, summoning a small portal to store her medical kit in. next was getting rid of the plastic bag stuffed with bloody bandages, which she held in her palm and incinerated. It stank for a second, but cranking up the heat got rid of even that. A bit of ash in the hallway was worth not having to carry around the bloody mess and as they had recently learned, leaving angel blood out attracted all manner of hellish pests. Niffty had been getting bored of not having anything to clean in the otherwise pristine new hotel anyway.

Looking back, Charlie felt… unsatisfied with that. Sure, she had actually talked to Lute which was new but they hadn’t discussed anything of substance and it all ended abruptly without anything meaningful happening. Unfortunately, sometimes life was just unsatisfying. She felt that she would have more productive talks with Lute in the future though. As awkward and tense as that had been, that was probably going to be the more pleasant of the activities she had planned for today. Checking her phone for the time, she saw she was due for her next appointment.

Alastor, The Radio Demon, was a creature of habit. Now that it was back on the air, he ran his radio show on a tight schedule. Charlie had braved the screaming of the damned to memorize the schedule. The majority of the broadcast was literally just endless radio static and the most horrific cacophony of agony and horror you can imagine. Unpleasant. However, there were breaks from the nightmare for lighter content. From 7am to 9am, Alastor did a segment on morning news, weather and some light music to ‘get people ready for the work day’. More screaming after that until 11am to 2pm, providing music and commentary during the lunch hours. Lastly, evening news from 7pm to 8pm. Charlie had no idea where Alastor actually got his information, but he seemed to have taken back up his role as both entertainer and public news outlet just as he had before the advent of televised news. Listening to Alastor’s show was an interesting experience. He was actually a good radio personality, save for his tendency to work in threats, tell personal stories about murder and torture and his refusal to play any music produced after 1950. Strange, strange man.

Charlie had timed it so she was walking up to the doors of his room just a minute or so before the lunch block would be finishing up. She went to knock, but the doors to Alastor’s new radio tower opened of their own accord. Probably just his shadow being helpful, still creepy though. 

Charlie did not like Alastor’s room. He had modified it considerably to suit his tastes, much like his room in the old hotel. Most of the room was actually rather well decorated, tasteful vintage furniture, nice sitting area… but then your eyes inevitably drifted to the left. Despite being a relatively small space on the top floor of the hotel, the left side of the room opened up in a wet misty bayou, complete with floating fireflies. Charlie edged away from the impossible space. Alastor was probably one of the most powerful mortal sorcerers she had ever met, so it wasn’t a surprise he could pull off things like this but it still had a weird vibe to it. One might think Charlie would be more used to such magical architecture, but her father was always more of the mind of ‘why waste magic to make a room bigger, when you can just build a bigger room?’... Yeah, after 10,000 years, the Morningstar mansion was a labyrinth.

Then there was the new addition that Charlie really didn’t like. Alastor’s comments about putting Lute’s wings on the mantelpiece hadn’t been a joke. On a large slab of polished wood, hanging from the wall were Lute’s wings. Fully splayed out, showing off her distinct double striped pattern. They had been haphazardly nailed to the frame, dried blood staining the polished wood from each point. Alastor clearly enjoyed putting the trophy up, but he was no taxidermist. Charlie shuddered at the grim sight. She couldn’t help but think that the feathers had gone dull, losing any of the pristine luster she associated with angel wings. Just dead, dry feathers.

Going to the less magical right side of the room, Charlie peaked through the glass looking into the tower’s recording booth. Alastor leaned back in his chair, chatting away into the microphone with an easy smile on his face. Giving a small wave to get his attention (she had learned better than to tap on the glass), The radio demon acknowledged her with a smile, silently gesturing at the glowing ‘on air’ sign. Ever the professional. Charlie gave a small thumbs up, stepping back into the room to wait for him to finish up his broadcast. After another minute, the bright sign went dark and the door opened, Alastor sauntering out with his usual flair.

“Ahhh, Charlie dear! I wasn’t expecting a visit, what brings our dear princess up to my humble tower?” sweeping in and taking Charlie by the shoulder, he was swiftly leading her over to the sitting area.

“Just making my rounds, finally got a few free minutes so I wanted to see how you’re doing. Have a chat. That kind of thing.” Charlie said, managing to keep the awkwardness out of her voice as she sank into one of the comfy chairs.

“Wonderful wonderful, I do so love our little talks.” Alastor made a gesture and with it a small table hopped obidentally across the room to park itself between the two chairs as he sat down as well. If Alastor had a sense for Charlie’s nervous energy he either chose not to acknowledge it or, more likely, enjoyed it. “Mother was always insistent on treating guests well, so how about a snack? I was feeling a might peckish myself.”

Running his clawed hand around the rim of the small table, as his hand passed across Charlie’s vision it revealed a plate piled high with square cuts of fried dough that were dusted with powdered sugar, a set of glasses and a tall pitcher filled with ice and amber liquid. Charlie envied how smooth Alastor was with his magic, she really needed to practice more.

“These look delightful, but I thought you didn’t like sweets?” Charlie asked, picking up one of the still warm little squares of dough. They tasted as good as they looked, like warm sugar dusted clouds.

“True, my tastes do run more savory, but I don’t mind the occasional taste of home. Beignets are quite the staple back home and I figured they’d be a better fit for your voracious sweet tooth. Speaking of which, Sweet tea?” Alastor held up the pitcher, ice cubes rattling around. At a nod, Alastor pour her a tall glass. It wasn’t Charlie’s favorite method of taking tea, but it was okay every once in a while. The cold tea served as a nice contrast to the warm fluffy beignets. “As nostalgic as the memory of sitting in Cafe Du Monde with a plate of beignets and a warm cup of coffee is, I can only watch you violate an innocent cup of coffee so many times.”

“Yeah yeah.” Charlie rolled her eyes as she stuffed another of the sweet treats in her mouth. She didn’t think she was that bad, but Alastor had been absolutely horrified the first time he saw her making her own coffee. He seemed very against the idea of flavored creamers and all that. His loss. 

“How are repairs coming along then? Hopefully everything is still on schedule for the adjusted grand opening next week? I’d hate for further delays.” Alastor started off the conversation with talking shop. As much as the man claimed to be here for his own entertainment, he was a perfectionist at heart and did tend to take his duty as patron and Hotelier seriously. Between him and Vaggie, the Hotel was actually looking like it might be a functional well oiled machine rather than a dumpy building run by a princess with a dream.

“That's all going fine for once. New doors were delivered earlier. There should be a crew coming tomorrow to repave the driveway… lots of angel shaped craters.” Charlie glanced at the grim trophy on the wall, catching Alastor’s smile widen a touch.

“Ah yes, and how is our newest guest? Recovering well?” he asked oh so innocently.

“Doing better, but you… you did a number on her.”

“She was quite the stubborn little creature. Surprisingly durable compared to her sisters but she went down all the same.” chuckling, alastor sipped his tea, looking fondly at his newest trophy. Charlie repressed a frown. Alastor enjoyed this kind of thing entirely too much for her tastes, but still, he had helped when it was needed.

“Alastor… I know I kind of yelled at you earlier… but I did want to say thank you. While I don’t agree with your methods and really don't agree with forcing people out of their souls, you did go out of your way to protect the hotel and our friends. That does mean a lot to me.” banishing the images of Lute from her mind, Charlie knew it was important to acknowledge and reward good behavior when it popped up. Staying angry at The Radio Demon for standing up to protect the hotel was not a good long term plan.

“I’m touched Charlie dear, but think nothing of it. I saw a problem and I fixed it, simply what I do. Our little tiff over the angel’s soul is as good as forgotten.” he said with what Charlie hoped was an honest smile, but it was hard to tell with him.

“That’s good… are you doing okay by the way? You obviously came out on top and all, but I saw you got a little banged up. Just want to make sure you’re doing good.” Charlie had noticed that Alastor had replaced his old monocle (sliced in half by Lute) with a pair of red reading glasses, which Charlie honestly thought suited his face better anyway. 

“Cuts and bruises, nothing serious. I’ll be right as rain soon enough.” Alastor said dismissively thought his grin seemed a to thin a little. Her pulled up his sleeve, showing 5 thin, uneven lines going from his wrist to halfway up his arm. All were neatly stitched, better than what Charlie could have done. “Rosie was a dear and patched me up while I was getting my suit tailored. Blessed steel stings, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“Good, good, I was worried…. But, well… it wasn’t the only thing that’s been on my mind.” Charlie began, treading delicately. “I mean, I’ve had a lot going on in my head. The meeting with Heaven and Sir Pentious and all that.”

“Yes yes, quite the bit of good fortune. I’ll admit, I never quite thought that this redemption nonsense would amount to anything more than watching lost souls endlessly climb sisyphean heights, only to inevitably fall for my own amusement… but it actually works! How novel. I suppose we can make events of Sinners trying to kill themselves to see if they’ve passed Heaven’s mysterious mandate. Could be quite the party!” Naturally, Alastor always found the exact wrong way to be enthusiastic about Charlie’ ideas. At least he was being more helpful than harmful… most of the time. The admission that he never believed in her dream still stung, even if she expected it.

“L-let’s maybe… not. I’m sure we can find better ways to test that. Plenty of time.” Nervously sipping her tea, there was only so much she could tiptoe around this subject. She might as well dive in. “but, speaking of redemption. Vaggie and I were talking and it just, kind of makes sense there might be some potential roadblocks to redemption that we should, uhm… test.”

“Oh? What might that be?”

“Well, a Sinner probably can’t go to Heaven if someone in Hell… owns their soul.” Charlie said, easing into the subject as best she could. Alastor, clever as he was, caught onto what she was hinting at immediately. He paused mid sip, before closing his eyes and his grin shrinking to a very small smile.

“Ah, I see how it is. Angel’s soul is owned by Valentino, who you can’t negotiate with, so you come to me. You want me to release Husk and Niffty’s souls.” he guessed correctly.

“Well, yes. I mean, I heard they were both Overlords before, but they’ve been doing a lot of good work helping with the hotel. Just like you, they jumped at the chance to defend it from Lute and got hurt pretty bad in the process. I dunno, I just think they deserve a chance.” Charlie had been thinking about this for days. In the past she had kind of let the nature of Husk and Niffty’s situation fall to the back of her mind. They had been desperate to get the hotel off the ground and couldn’t really say no to Alastor offering them two new staff. But they weren’t really staff, they were slaves under contract. Niffty didn’t seem bothered by the arrangement but she was… Niffty. Husk had made it clear he hadn’t wanted to be there, but over time she could see that he was starting to come around and actually care about others. She remembered that dark look of disappointment when she had guessed that contracts might hold people back from Redemption. It wasn’t something she could ignore anymore.

Alastor, for his part, silently set down his drink and settled back in his chair. He wasn’t immediately shutting Charlie down so that was a sign at least.

“Dear, dear girl. I’m afraid you don’t know what exactly you’re asking.” Alastor spoke, turning to look at her with a thin smile. Charlie had known this wasn’t going to be an easy pitch, but she wasn’t daunted.

“I know, you probably don’t give up souls cheap, but we can negotiate right? I-i could give you another favor?” she began but Alastor quickly waved her off.

“Oh Charlie, it's not a matter of price. No no. Besides, it would be uncouth of me to force my good friend into deeper debt than she is already in.” Alastor’s expression went serious, a not so subtle jab that Charlie already owed him a debt she had yet to pay. She shrunk back in her chair a bit, sighing. “The issue, Princess, is that while your intentions are admirable, you still do not fully grasp the depths of depravity that mortal souls are capable of.”

“... what do you mean?” Charlie asked, tilting her head in confusion.

“The Husk and Niffty you know are quite docile and well behaved now, but they were not always this way. They act as they do because they know I own them, because I can punish them. Released from their chains, there is no way of knowing whether or not they might run off and return to… bad habits.”

“Surely they can’t have been that bad? I mean, it's Hell, everyone's a little bad.” she shrugged, but Alastor’s expression didn’t soften.

“You know that in life, I was a serial killer, correct?” Wild segue there Al, but Charlie nodded along. Alastor had never made any attempt to hide that, talking about his kills in life and death with alarming regularity. “Well, Allow me to tell you something new about my life’s work.”

“I temper my sense of decency in anticipation.” Charlie sighed, not liking where this was going.

“In my life, I did not simply kill with reckless abandon. To do so would have been an utter waste of time, served no purpose. No, I only put my effort towards people that truly deserved my professional touch. I killed bullies, corrupt cops, abusive husbands, cheating wives, criminals, gangsters and more.” as Alastor talked, the lights of the room stretched. Out of the corner of her eye, Charlie thought she could see movement among the trees in the bayou. Shadowy figures, their faces a mask of pain and agony, stalked among the mists. Alastor’s victims, deserving or not, were never far from him. “My work was a public service, All for the good of my fellow man…. Though I suppose I might have liked my job a bit too much. Do what you love right?” he laughed, Charlie managed a strangled chuckle. She had seen what it looked like when Alastor ‘enjoyed his work’.

“When I found myself in Hell, I learned that I had so much more work to do. All those people I put down here were running amok, and I simply had to clean up my mess. Yet, as I finished even that, I began to see all the many problems facing Hell. Your family was not quite so active back when I first arrived, if I recall correctly?”

“... No, I mean Mom was always around to inspire people but we didn’t really get directly involved. Dad said it was best to let to Sinners govern themselves. I never gave it much thought until a few years ago.” Charlie admitted guiltily. She could only imagine what more she could have done if she had gotten off her lazy butt and started trying to help the Sinners decades or even centuries ago.

“Don’t look so glum Charlie, remember what I told you about smiling? That's better. No one blames your family for not being more hands on. We Sinners would likely chafe under the oppressive rule of a real king. If I’m being honest, were I in your shoes, I’d not have wanted to get involved either. Pentagram city was quite the mess.” Alastor waved a hand, a book flying off a nearby shelf and landing in his palm. It looked like a story book of some kind? He began casually flipping through it, revealing quite a few graphic illustrations of Sinners performing various acts of cruelty against each other. “There used to be dozens of Overlords fighting for every scrap they could take, making life miserable for the poor Sinners they trod upon. That’s when I got the idea for my Radio show. I began to clean up the streets, dealing with all those pesky troublemakers. One. By. One.”

Alastor continued to flip pages, showing off various depictions of powerful looking overlords, then showing them in chains on the next. Charlie could almost hear their screams, or was that a wind rustling through the trees? She shuddered all the same. Charlie had heard Mimzy’s version of Alastor's first few years in Hell, but hearing it from his own mouth and seeing the gleeful glint in his eye was something else entirely.

“Husk and Niffty were two Overlords that came under my radar and needed to be dealt with. No, not the worst offender by far but deserving all the same.” Alastor turned a page in his story book, handing it to Charlie now. Looking down, she saw a drawing of Niffty. Well, not quite. She looked a bit different, a little taller, the insectiod features of her arms and legs more prominent, her eye gleaming with a terrifying madness. The picture showed her with a pair of bloody daggers and a line of corpses in her wake. “Yes, cute little Niffty was quite the terror back in the day. You don’t want to know what that little ‘collection’ of hers used to contain… though, I do sympathize. It isn’t entirely her fault, she has never been able to fully control the madness that haunts her mind.”

At a prompting gesture, Charlie turned the page in the book. God, she wished she hadn’t. The scene it showed was too horrible to be real. Horror and disgust rising in her throat, Charlie looked to Alastor in hopes this was some kind of cruel joke. For once, the ever smiling man had no humor in his eyes.

“D-did she really-oh god… her own…that’s horrible.” Charlie fought the urge to be sick, using a hand to cover the page as if that would change what it was showing her.

“Yes, indeed. As I said, no control. Haven’t you ever wondered why someone as meticulously tidy as Niffty always has those three little blood stains on her apron? Always in the same spot? Yes, Hell has rather cruel ways of reminding us mortals about things we would rather forget. ” Alasot explained, a glowing X appearing over his forehead briefly, indicating the shot that had cut his life short. “Both to keep her off the streets and, I suppose, as an act of pity, I brought Niffty under my power. She needs someone to keep her in line, make sure she doesn’t do anything else she will regret. With me holding her leash, she is no longer a danger to anyone or herself.”

Sometimes it was better not knowing the truth. Charlie shuddered, turning the page so she didn’t have to look anymore. Given Niffty’s small size and scatterbrained personality it was often easy to think of her as almost childlike. Innocent almost… but, that was probably an outlook that Charlie might never have again. Niffty’s existence was more tragic than Charlie could have imagined. She had heard that mental health care was almost unheard of during the period Niffty had been alive. How long had she suffered in silence against impulses she couldn’t control until it was too late? Uncaring of Charlie’s inner turmoil over this revelation, Alastor continued on.

“Our drunken friend Husk is a much more straightforward case. He knew he was digging his own grave in life and he just kept digging after he was dead.” Alastor’s tone was less sympathetic, carrying a note of disdain as he gestured to the picture, the new page showing a much cleaner looking Husk surrounded by piles of money. “Greed truly is one of the more vile sins we mortals can suffer from. Husk was not a kind man, why he was as vicious as any other overlord in his day. Though he was clever, and rarely went out of his way to pick fights, I might have spared him if not for one thing. Charlie, you know from experience that I am a man of my word, I take my contracts very seriously. Even in return for a mere favor, I made sure you got the best possible end of our bargain.”

“That’s… true.” Charlie admitted. The information on how to fight back against the Exorcists had been critical to the Hotel’s survival, but more than that, Alastor had gone above and beyond in their contract. While Charlie had technically only bargained for information, Alastor had also helped Charlie to recruit the Cannibals from Rosie and had been instrumental in planning the hotel’s defense. Even if she was still a little miffed about being forced to make a deal rather than him helping out of the goodness of his heart, Charlie had to admit she had gotten her money’s worth.

“Such was not the case with our friend Husk. Blinded by his greed, he reduced the value of souls down to mere currency. Utterly callous. Tricking people into losing everything they had at his gambling tables and pressing them to bet the only thing they had left just to stay afloat.” Alastor’s smile grew wickedly cruel as the page flipped of its own accord. Revealing a miserable looking Husk looking across at piles of poker chips surrounding a smug looking Alastor. “I would say he definitely didn’t enjoy the same tactic being used against him. Miserable sod crawled into a bottle and hasn’t found his way out since. I am sure you must know quite a bit about greed, your family is quite close with the other Sins. Greed is a terribly insidious sin, ruining the lives of those around it and worse, losing everything only makes people crave it more. We have no way of knowing how badly Husk might relapse if he was to be set free, how many lives he might ruin in desperation to restore his lost power.”

Charlie’s mouth opened and closed several times as she processed this information. It was jarring to see her friends in this new light. She always wanted to believe in people, but actually being faced with that they had done was… challenging. Niffty definitely needed help, but would regular therapy be enough? Did they have the proper facilities to diagnose or treat her condition yet? Was it even treatable? Was it safe for others if she wasn’t under Alastor’s control? Charlie liked to think that Husk had grown fond of the hotel and was willing to stick around and help… but he was only here because he was forced. Redemption didn’t work if it wasn’t by choice. If he was let go, he technically had every right to leave. Would he just immediately go back to old habits and start using his skills for ill purposes again? There was no way to know, not yet anyway… and Charlie wasn’t sure if it was safe to test.

“I know Charlie. You want to do what’s best for everyone, you want to help people. And you will be able to do just that, there are surely many lost fools in Pentagram city who are willing to buy what you’re selling, maybe even some that can actually be redeemed… but take it from a man who knows he is a monster, sometimes some monsters need to be held in chains. It's for the best that things remain as they are. Trust me. ”

“I… o-okay.” Charlie sighed, looking miserably down at the book in her hands. Flipping between the pages with husk and Niffty once or twice. This whole ‘being responsible’ thing sucked. As much as she wanted to take the risk and try to let Husk and Niffty prove they could be responsible with their freedom… if Charlie was wrong, then the consequences were on her. She was already taking a considerable risk with Lute, but at least in that scenario, she and Vaggie had talked long and hard about all the implications and they had plans to deal with it… maybe if things went to plan, then Charlie would have something up her sleeve to make sure she was prepared to take bigger risked but it would be months before she knew if that was a truly viable option.

She wasn’t giving up of Husk and Niffty yet…. But she couldn’t do anything about it right now.

“Jolly good.” Alastor grinned widely, oblivious to the tone of Charlie’s thoughts. “So glad you are seeing sense on the matter. Now, lets leave that grim talk behind us and enjoy our meal.” flicking his wrist, Alastor’s book floated out of Charlie’s hands and returned to the shelf. She looked after it for a few seconds before shaking her head and picking up another beignet to nibble on. “Don’t be so glum. Here, I know what will make you feel better! Since I have you here, you should consider making an appearance on my radio show! We can do a spot to advertise the hotel, I’m positive that it will do a much better job getting the word out than that silly picture box advertisement, our air time kept getting interrupted anyway-”

Alastor went on and on, but Charlie was only half listening at this point. Yet another plan put on hold. Yet another day with almost no progress to speak of.

Chapter Text

She could see Heaven from her window. 

One could always see Heaven, almost no matter where you were in the Ring of Pride. From Hell, Heaven appeared as a glowing orb of divine radiance surrounded by a vast halo of gold, which itself was orbited by clouds of purest white. Sitting high in the sky, beyond the great Pentagram, a stark spot of white and gold contrasting against the blood red sky. 

Once upon a time, Lute had found the idea that a Sinner could look up and see Heaven to be an amusing concept. To know they could always see perfection, yet have it dangled out of their reach, a constant reminder of the cost of their failings and that they could never take them back. 

The illusion of hope in Hell.

She found it decidedly less funny on the other side of the equation.

Over the last five days, Lute's life had been… not exactly pleasant. She wasn't being tortured or anything. God forbid, a bit of torture might be what she needed to feel some kind of motivation. No, she had been primarily left to her own devices, or rather, to her own misery. Her days consisted primarily of lying around in bed, alternating between the pain of her broken body and the dull numbness of painkillers. As an angel, she supposed she should heal faster than a mortal, certainly any bruises she had gotten during training tended to fade quickly. However, the majority of her wounds were from the touch of blessed steel, which was rumored to cut the soul as much as the body or some other mythical explanation for why wounds healed slowly and it could bring final death to Sinners. She’d known no other angel that ever had to suffer through recovering from such wounds… Well, she knew one, but really didn’t want to talk to her.

Despite her complaints, her recovery was progressing steadily. She had managed to get to the point where she could mostly hobble under her own power by now. Amazing progress. At least she no longer needed to ask for assistance to get to the bathroom across the room. That particular indignity had nearly convinced her to try leaping out the window. She might have, if she could have done it without needing to ask for help first… once she had managed to become somewhat mobile under her own power and desperate for a change of scenery, she had (with herculean effort) pushed her chair across the room so that she could sit and look out the window.

Which is where she had been spending most of her time for the last few days. Staring up at that little glimpse of Heaven. Her home. Everything she had lost. A life she was banned from returning to. The wording of her banishment had been quite clear, she had read the scroll detailing her crimes and the terms of her banishment about a dozen times. Rereading them unfortunately did not change anything. Stripped of her rank and any authority she had with the Exorcist army. She wasn't even allowed in the Embassy without explicit permission of one of the Morningstars. Absolutely no entrance to Heaven unless Sera herself approved the exception. Cut off from Heaven for eternity, left in the custody of the Adversary and his daughter…

Hell is forever, whether you like it or not.

A dry, humorless ‘hah’ creaked out of her throat at the thought. Those had been better days. She had a purpose. She had drive. She had Adam… His guitar sat in the corner, gathering dust on its golden surface. Untouched since Vaggie put it there. There had been neither the will nor ability to play it again. Nope. Only silent misery for Lute. Well… that wasn't quite true. Silent misery and two recurring visitors.

The Princess visited her once a day. Blessedly not for long, usually only for a half hour or so. Apparently the Princess was one of the few in the Hotel that had any kind of medical training. Vaggie had mentioned she had helped with doing bandages while Lute was unconscious, but apparently Charlie was the one doing the stitching and controlling the amount of painkillers Lute got. Why a princess of Hell had bothered to learn such a mortal skill, Lute would likely never know. Still, Charlie was mostly professional during her visits, if a bit chatty. Lute struggled to find the will to respond or maintain eye contact with the Princess. The situation with her was strange. Charlotte Morningstar was the daughter of the literal devil, Lute had never viewed her with much more than utter contempt… but now Lute owed her life and soul to The Princess, had called for her help in a moment of weakness, seen that warm, inviting sea of compassion that sat behind those soft yellow and red eyes. What a strange woman. Taking in strays, helping Sinners, forgiving angels. Charlie was likely the only reason Vaggie was still alive down here, if not for the Princess then Lute likely would have never seen the other angel again. And that- well… Lute didn’t know how she felt about that thought. Well, maybe she did, but she didn’t want to say.

A knock sounded at the door, saving her from her own thoughts. Clunky and arrhythmic. Easy to identify despite a complete lack of pattern. It also wouldn't stop unless addressed. Lute had learned that the hard way after refusing to acknowledge it for over an hour and a half before she lost the battle of wills. 

Heaving a long sigh, Lute pushed herself from her chair with effort. She had to stand still for a few seconds, closing her eyes and breathing deeply to exert her will over the painful cries of her leg muscles protesting her weight. Shambling her way to the door, she clicked it open and stepped aside to let in her visitor.

“Hello Frank.” She toned, watching the strange little egg creature bumble along on unsteady legs, balancing a cloche covered tray over its head as it made its way to the desk where she took her meals.

“Hiya Sad lady!” the creature ‘Frank’ replied cheerily in its ridiculous voice. Lute rolled her eyes at the creature’s reduction of her character. She had told it her name, several times. Frank was not the brightest creature, only referring to her by its own chosen moniker, she didn’t even look that terrible today. Her oversized shirt was buttoned correctly and she had at least run her fingers through her hair after getting out of bed. “The Radio guy made food! And it was tasty and full of all kinds of shells, which is funny because I'm made out of shell! I wonder if I'm tasty, too?”

The egg construct went about its usual rambling nonsense and Lute vaguely nodded along. Out of habit, she glanced into the hallway from her position by the door. As expected, she caught a glimpse of a glaring yellow eye and a flash of a red scarlet tail. The Princess’ pet goat demon was stalking her as per usual. The creature was never far, always waiting around to get in a quick glare or snarl at her whenever she dared step out her room. It wasn't hard to guess why; Lute had slain its companion and unlike its master, it knew how to hold a grudge. It made no attempt to breach the room itself, probably due to orders from the Princess, but she swore she had heard it pacing outside her door the other night…. Though that might have been Niffty hunting a bug. Lute felt either of them getting into her room would be bad for her health.

“-and that's when the evil goat got shot by the angel flying the plane and the boss was there too! It was a really fun dream.” Frank had been rambling on about some insane nonsense while Lute wasn't paying attention. It did that often, babbling on about the most random topics, she wasn't sure if it was capable of shutting up. As far as living constructs went, this thing was pretty bottom of the barrel in terms of mental ability. She wondered what kind of titanic moron had put this thing together. 

“Why would an angel fly a plane? They have wings… most of the time.” She really shouldn't engage, but she couldn't help it. She had so little in terms of entertainment.

“To use the machine gun!” Frank explained cheerily as he gathered up the half eaten remains of her lunch onto his tray to carry back out. Lute almost laughed. No self respecting angel would bother to operate a machine gun. The Exorcists had considered the adoption of modern weaponry briefly, but rejected it. Primarily because Adam liked watching more hands on slaughter, but additionally because making blessed bullets was tedious, expensive, and wasteful. She was surprised how many angelic guns she had seen in Hell, as they must have been insanely costly to operate. To operate a machine gun would require either having a stockpile of holy bullets (absurd) or having a literal wellspring of potent divine power on standby to bless the bullets as they came out of the gun (ridiculous). Personally, Lute saw guns as the weapons of weaklings and cowards who were too afraid of real combat. Made sense for skinny weaklings like the Spider demon, but an angel with a gun? laughable.

“Whatever Frank.” Lute dismissed, watching the egg bobble precariously across the room with its tray in its usual cheerful, clumsy gait. Frank did stop at the door, shifting its load so it had a free hand to reach up and grab his little top hat, flipping it over and holding it up to Lute.

“Almost forgot! Boss lady had a message for ya!” He explained, and Lute noticed the folded note tucked into the hat. Boss lady would be Charlie, she often sent little notes along with Frank to communicate which personally seemed a waste of time and paper considering The Princess had been there in person not five hours ago… but then again, Lute rarely talked to Charlie during check ups, so the Princess probably hoped Lute might be open to non-verbal communication.

“ Dear Lute,

As always, I hope you are still feeling okay. Even if it feels rough, you’re making good progress on your recovery, you’ll be out of mummy wraps in no time! 

Just wanted to remind you that you are always welcome to join us whenever we do breakfast or dinner together. I think it will be good for you and the staff to see more of each other. Spending time together is important to building a strong sense of camaraderie!

Please remember to take your pain meds and drink plenty of water. If you need anything to make your stay at the Hazbin Hotel more comfortable, please let us know.

Sincerely, 

Charlie :) ”

Idly, Lute flipped the note over, seeing a colorful drawing of the Princess holding up a big rainbow in a cartoony style. The Princess loved her doodling it seems. She’d seen a number of the Princess’ doodles during the meeting and trial. Charlie was no professional, but her work had… energy? Lute wasn’t great at describing art.There was a distinct mental disconnect between the cheerful and often naive nature of the Princess vs the monstrous abilities Lute knew her to possess. Lute struggled to reconcile the difference. How could someone with that much power be so… Lute sighed, folding up the note and looking down at Frank. The creature blinked vacantly up at her. Briefly, Lute considered if her desire to wallow in her own isolated misery was worth it when this was what she was going to have to keep dealing with.

“Tell The Princess- er, the ‘boss lady' that I want for nothing. Now, goodbye Frank.” Lute dismissed him curtly. Frank, in his infinite stupidity, was rather immune to being insulted by the tone of one's voice or anything subtle like that. No, he just gave a big dumb smile and began trotting off with an ‘Okey Dokey!’. What a bizarre creature.

Shutting the door with a click, Lute wandered over to the food she'd been given. Despite her depressed mind's attempts at martyrdom via starvation, her stomach had eventually won out and remained victorious. Loathe as she was to admit it, the food was too good to simply ignore. If she was being honest, it was actually better than what Lute had usually eaten when in Heaven. Oh, the food in Heaven was fantastic, master chefs getting centuries to perfect their craft was something to behold… but in the last few decades, Adam had developed something of a taste for the human invention of ‘fast food’. Given Lute was usually at his side, she often ate what he did. She’d had to keep a religious workout routine because of it. In comparison, the home cooked meals from the hotel were quite the upgrade… which was wrong because nothing in Hell should be an upgrade. Also, it was far better than she should reasonably expect given her position. She had really expected a dungeon and gruel, not silk sheets and gourmet meals. Extremely confusing mind games these demons were playing.

Still, she had tried to abstain and that had failed. Very hard to ignore hunger when you have literally nothing to do but sit around and be miserable. That was the one actual issue with her captivity, she'd not been given anything to occupy herself with. Sure, she could probably ask for something but she was remaining stubborn on that front. Since she possessed no other forms of entertainment, whatever parts of her thoughts weren't occupied with self loathing had been set to something of a game where she attempted to piece out bits of information regarding the day to day function of the hotel based on Frank's rambling nonsense and Charlie’s commentary.

Thus far she had determined that there was no one person in charge of meal preparation in the hotel. The task seemed to alternate randomly, but not through the entire staff. She had only been paying attention for a few days, but it seemed so far that the Princess, the Radio Demon, and the Spider seemed to be responsible for most of the meals that made it up to her room (though only the Princess and Radio demon were mentioned in regards to breakfast for some reason). She wasn't aware if the rest of the staff simply hadn't come up for meal duty or if they were incapable. She knew Vaggie couldn't cook, she doubted that had changed despite everything. Frank had said today's meal was a product of the Radio Demon, so she lifted the metal cloche to see what was on the menu.

Her eye twitched at what she saw.

Oh, it wasn't that the food looked bad. No, it looked delicious, smelled delicious, very likely was delicious. The problem was she instantly understood that the Radio Demon was mocking her. The dish was a kind of seafood boil. A pile of sausage, potatoes, corn on the cob, clams, shrimp, and crab legs boiled together in Cajun spices until everything was tender and delicious… The only problem was it was a meal that had likely been explicitly chosen to annoy Lute. All of the seafood possessed shells that would make attempting to eat them one handed difficult, tedious, and messy. There was even an unpeeled orange on the side of the tray. As an added bonus, after she ate, all the leftover shells would start to smell after a while and Frank typically didn't come back to pick up her dishes until he delivered breakfast. She could practically hear the Demon chuckling to itself at the thought of her struggling to eat the dish.

A snarl of anger escaped her lips as she snatched up a crab leg. Putting it between her teeth, with a twist and a crunch she ripped off one end of the shell and spat it out. Sucking the tender meat from the inside… it only made her more angry that it was exactly as good as it looked, the spice having a pleasant lingering tingle. She ate more, spite motivating her to tackle tearing apart the shelled seafood first rather than the easier corn, potatoes and sausage, just to prove she could do it with only one arm.

In an abstract way, she was glad of the challenge. It reminded her of what she still had. Despite everything that had been taken from her in the last month, how hollow it had left her… She still had her anger. All her life, that had been what pushed her to succeed at any challenge. Her anger, her spite, her Wrath .

Lute paused midway through crunching through the thick shell of a crab claw. That particular word choice seemed to rattle strangely around in her head… Was she Wrathful? Hot tempered, spiteful, sure… but Wrath? Wrath was a sin. One of the Deadly Sins. She didn't have that kind of wrath, right? There was a difference between sinful wrath and divine fury, right? She'd been a willing instrument of Heaven's wrath, very willing, letting it flow out from the well in her heart to give her the strength to tear apart Heaven’s foes. Actually that might not be the best defense given her and Vaggie's last talk. No, it didn't bear thinking about. There was a difference between being naturally temperamental and suffering the sin of Wrath. 

She spent the rest of the meal pointedly trying to not think about it.

—

Lute was a stubborn creature, possessed of great resolve. She didn’t balk at pain and it had taken some serious torture and the threat of continued decades of it for the Radio Demon to make her even consider the possibility of bending to his will. Contrary to this, there was apparently a much easier way to crack her iron will. Continued annoying distractions got under her skin, such as Frank’s incessant knocking or, in tonight’s case, the smell of room temperature seafood scraps. The briny smell was somehow able to make itself known even when covered with the metal cover. She simply had to do something about it.

The easiest option would be to simply leave the tray out in the hallway, which Lute was pretty sure that was a thing people did in actual hotels, but she ended up dismissing the option. Doing so would likely agitate the Sinners and she wasn’t in a state to be antagonizing people. Besides, Lute was an orderly person by nature. It came with her military bearing, everything had its proper place and should be kept neat and tidy. Thus, her dishes should find their way back to the kitchen.

Since she was still unwilling to recruit any kind of assistance, she resolved to take care of the issue herself. It wouldn’t be that hard, just a trip down the elevator, to the kitchen and back. It didn't matter she was down an arm and still recovering from several major injuries, she refused to believe she was incapable of such a basic task. Lute felt reasonably confident about going out. The giant ominous Pentagram in the sky had darkened considerably into Hell’s equivalent of night and Sinners still needed periodic rest. She hadn't heard any movement from outside her door for awhile now. After a few days of listening, it had been easy to figure out that most of the hotel’s staff seemed to sleep on this floor and were usually in bed by this hour.

That didn't mean her path would be completely devoid of hazards. There was no way of knowing if The Radio Demon, Niffty, or the Princess’ pet goat demon kept such regular hours. Encountering any of them alone could go poorly.

Tray in hand, she set off on her journey while trying her best not to be discouraged by how long it took for her to elbow the door handle while balancing the tray. Limping steps keeping as quiet as possible, at least one of the rooms in the hall still had the lights on despite the hour. Gritting her teeth and shuffling past, she made it to the elevator. Leaning against the wall with a sigh of relief as she elbowed the call button. First part was easy and the throbbing of her leg was manageable, her back was only a little on fire. Solid so far. Thank God this place had an elevator, based on the view from her window she had to be on the penultimate floor of the massive building, somewhere between 8 and 10 floors up. Walking down flights of stairs like this actually might kill her.

It should be as easy as finding wherever the kitchen was on the ground floor and dropping off her tray. Easy.

…

It was not easy.

Lute didn't exactly have a great sense of exactly how big this god forsaken hotel was, and it seemed that the first floor was… multipurpose. The Morningstars clearly suffered a fit of madness designing this building. The main lobby very clearly connected to a large bar that Lute opted to avoid, but from there on the place was a maze. There were activity rooms, a ball room, a fully stocked gym, smaller meeting rooms, staff offices, at one point Lute accidentally stumbled through a door that led her to a tennis court behind the hotel. How many Sinners did they expect to play fucking tennis?? The Hotel seemed to have everything one could possibly want except a kitchen.

The worst of it was her nerves seemed to be absolutely fried. Walking around a dark empty hotel shouldn't have been nerve wracking, especially not for a hardened veteran such as herself… Yet all the same she found herself jumping at shadows and constantly looking over her shoulders. She just couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. She feared that she might be being stalked but no matter how much she looked, she found no evidence of anyone else around. Perhaps wandering in Hell alone at night was just objectively creepy? The building was too new to be haunted… well it had been rebuilt, the old building had really looked haunted but… could things in Hell be haunted? How would that even work? Most Everyone was already dead, unless there was some after-afterlife.

She was rambling nonsense, a clear sign of insanity induced by her incarceration in this infernal building.

After a period of time that could have been somewhere between ten minutes or an hour to her pain added brain, she limped back into the lobby. Feeling defeated, Lute slumped against the side of the front desk with a groan. Walking around shouldn't be this goddamn hard. It was just a leg wound!... And a shredded spine… and missing wings… but still!

This little trip had turned into more exercise than she'd had in days. Between the lingering painkillers in her system making her lethargic and her injured muscles overcompensating the mere act of walking around felt more like running a marathon. Can't even put dishes back where they belong, officially a new low. Stupid. Embarrassing. Weak.

“Fuck me…” Lute sighed.

“You're not exactly my type.” came a gruff voice that made Lute jump out of her skin.

In her surprise the tray nearly flew out of her hand and she had to pull off an extremely difficult one handed balancing act to prevent it from falling and spilling shellfish and corn cobs all over the carpet. When she finally got that under control, Lute whipped around to see the source of the voice. For a terrible moment she feared the sight of glowing radio dials and yellow teeth watching her from the shadows. Thankfully, the Radio Demon was nowhere in sight, instead it was one of the Sinners. The familiar sight of Husk the Gambler was leaning against the front desk, not even 5ft from her. How in God’s name had he gotten that close? Her eyes flicked down, ah that made sense, Husk wore no shoes. The man was a cat, known for their near silent tread. Still, she should have been more alert. Pathetic.

Lute held his gaze for a few long seconds, panic and instinct trying to decide between fight and flight. Not that she was prepared for either given her health. She expected the Sinner to use this opportunity to attack her but he made no move to do so. His posture seemed entirely too relaxed for combat. Either he was exceedingly confident in killing her or he wasn’t looking for a fight.

“... What do you want, Sinner?” Lute growled, trying to straighten her posture despite her acting back. She couldn’t afford to look weak among these Sinners. They’d eat her alive given the chance. Husk didn’t seem filled by her attempt to act confident.

“Wanted to figure out what that smell was.” Husk gestured at the tray, then to his nose. “Sensitive nose. Couldn’t focus on finishing up doing inventory with someone wandering around wafting that all around the building. Looking for the kitchen?” more of his infernal smug grin. Lute didn’t enjoy being made a mockery of, but she was getting really tired of wandering aimlessly.

“Yes.” she forced through gritted teeth. Asking for help and from a Sinner? Today was truly the worst. “This infernal Hotel is a maze.”

“That’s because you’re looking in the wrong direction. Kitchen is connected through the back of the bar.” The Sinner said, jerking his thumb to point at the dimly lit bar behind them. Of fucking course it was in the one place Lute dismissed. Fucking waste of time, energy, and dignity.

“Why the fuck is your kitchen attached to the bar, not the damn dining hall I passed?” Lute grumbled, pushing off to begin the long limp over towards the bar. She had intended her comment as a rhetorical question and rather intended to leave the conversation there but Husk merely chuckled and moved to follow her. She glared at him over her shoulder, but he looked rather unphased by her attempted aura of menace. The man had no intention of leaving her alone, but at the very least he was keeping a respectable distance from her.

“One, good for serving bar food and throwing out trash. Two, it is connected. Hidden door for staff, Charlie's dad disguised it as one of the panels in the wall. Hidden button and everything.” Husk explained to answer her question despite the sarcastic tone she had asked it with, making a quick step forward to hold open the door to the bar area. Lute would normally be offended by the act of undesired ‘chivalry’ but she was rather more distracted by the ‘hidden room' thing.

“... Why? ” Lute didn’t want to prolong the conversation but she was too bewildered at the absurd addition to let it go. 

“Fuck if I know, Charlie's dad was going through a phase or something. I think he added in about a half dozen secret rooms and tunnels before I lost track.” Husk walked Lute through the bar as he spoke. Apparently the Devil was as mad as all the stories claimed. 

The hotel bar was, Lute would begrudgingly admit, of impressive and eye-catching design. Again furnished in the unique gothic deco designs that seemed to prevail throughout the building. An old fashioned dark wood canopy bar took up one corner of the place, loaded with expensive looking alcohol and polished crystal glasses. There were about a dozen tables to accommodate a small crowd, but left part of the room open for a dance floor. The corner opposite the bar was a good sized stage with a grand piano already sitting and waiting for someone to fill the place with music. There was one detail that made Lute frown. The walls had paintings, stylized depictions of jazz bands playing their music. Harmless on its own, but there was a secondary theme to them. Each one held a dark figure in the audience or behind the band, one painting was more direct and showed a man shaking hands at a crossroads with this dark figure. It had always been rumored that the origins of jazz lay in a deal with the devil.

… Was this The Adversary confirming it or just stroking his own ego? Hard to tell.

Husk led her around the bar and sure enough, there was a set of swinging doors leading into a kitchen. Like everything else in the hotel, the kitchen was packed to bursting with shiny new equipment of the variety and quality that might leave any chef salivating. Lute wasn't much of a cook, she really only learned how to make one dish and that was with decades of experimentation. Husk seemed to know better than to interfere with Lute going through the process of dumping the scraps into an appropriate trashcan and cleaning off her own plate. She might have tried to bite him for lack of more aggressive options otherwise.

When Lute finished, she turned to take in the Sinner with a more appraising eye. He was the only Sinner she had ever met before being dumped at the hotel… Well, met and not killed…  and not for lack of trying. She had only barely recognized him during the fight. Gone was the confident Sinner who had once openly challenged her, sharp suit and slicked back hair traded in for cheap looking suspenders and a dumb looking top hat. Still, she could see an echo of the Sinner she had met nearly thirty years ago, despite how tired he looked there was a distinct smugness to his smile. The look of a man who could read your darkest secrets at a glance. 

He was doing it now. Appraising her as she appraised him. Though his posture displayed no threat, there had been a planned element to this interaction. He had wanted to speak with her, but he was leaving the floor open for her to start. Curious. Lute could play ball.

“You seem surprisingly tolerant of my presence, figured you and your kind would be waiting for an excuse to gut me.” she remarked, getting a smirk out of him.

“You've been in a kitchen full of knives for two minutes now and haven't tried to stab me, so I figured you aren't in the mood for a fight.”

“... Fair point.” Lute agreed, there were indeed many knives in this kitchen. If she had the energy to make a desperate last stand, this would be one of the more ideal places to do it. Even a frying pan could be an effective weapon under the right circumstances.

“Besides, as a long standing member myself, I tend to take it on myself to welcome new members onto the Rock Bottom club.”

“Rock bottom!? How dare you! I'm not-” Offended, Lute tried to defend herself but Husk cut her off.

“Banished, beat up, missing three limbs, trapped in a place full of people you hate, and at their mercy.” Husk counted off on her fingers, each time Lute deflated a little more. “Sounds like rock bottom to me, and certainly explains your piss poor performance in our fight.” he raised a challenging eyebrow and Lute had no defense.

“... Sounds like Vaggie told you about our talk.” Even now, Lute didn't like thinking about the conversation. What she had said, what she had been forced to confront… what still needed to be said.

“Nope, she didn't say shit. Didn't need to.” Husk's expression became surprisingly sympathetic. Not in the pitying way most people expressed sympathy, but in a much more genuine way. The look of someone who actually understood your pain. “Try to tell Charlie anything about this and I'll deny it… but I've got enough experience to recognize what a suicide attempt looks like.”

Lute blinked, looking up from her own self pity to look at Husk again. The words put a new light on the man. That smug veneer he’d been putting up until now was surprisingly shallow. There was an ancient weariness weighing on the man’s shoulders and Lute had the sense that it had been there much longer than he had been in Hell. Ah… so that was why they called him ‘Husk’.

“Let me guess, recent events have got everything all fucked up and you couldn't keep up?” He asked, the sincerity of it made Lute have to break eye contact with the man. Why was sincerity and compassion so much harder to deal with than malice and anger… probably because it further proved how wrong she had been in the past.

“That's putting it mildly…” she shouldn’t be doing this. This was exactly the problem. She was talking to a Sinner, not just talking to a Sinner by already brushing very close to the territory of confiding personal issues in one. She didn’t want to talk about any of this stuff, but at the same time she felt like if she didn’t she’d go insane… but with a Sinner? Maybe Husk was just naturally able to manipulate people into opening up around him or it was just easier to talk to him as a somewhat neutral third party than navigate the mental minefield that was required with Vaggie or The Princess. 

“Well, that settles it. Sounds like you need a bartender to talk to.” The Sinner said, jerking his thumb to point back towards the bar. Lute wanted to frown, she really did. It was such a dumb set up and she shouldn’t play along with it… but despite all her previous thoughts, a drink sounded really good right now.

“You say that often?” A slight, very slight, smile on her face as she pushed off the sink and started walking back towards the bar.

“Not nearly as much as I'd like.” Husk laughed, following along.

Shortly after, Lute was pulling herself into a bar stool as Husk busied himself with getting set up. Lights were flicked on and a moment later music began to slip from speakers in the bar. Soft, gentle singing at a volume just loud enough to be heard but not enough to be disruptive. Lute recognized the artist, it was a decently old track. Then again, mortal souls in Heaven and Hell did seem to be oddly attached to things from their mortal lives rather than keeping up with the times.

“Doris Day? Didn't think you'd listen to this kind of stuff.” Lute commented, watching as Husk seemed to be taking his time picking through the extensive collection of alcohol behind the bar.

“Lady had a fine voice. She was big when I was younger, her music always helped me relax.” Husk picked a bottle at last, setting it on the counter as he placed a pair of crystal tumblers next to it. He made a show of showing off that the bottle was unopened, even sealed with wax, which meant it probably wasn’t poisoned. Probably. 

“Isn't this album mostly love songs?”

“Don't get any ideas, already said you're not my type.” Husk filled each of the tumblers with two fingers of a fragrant amber liquid, before sliding one towards Lute. “Just had this particular album on the brain the last week or two. No real reason.”

“Sure.” definitely no reason, even Lute wasn't that dense. She didn't get the sense Husk was flirting with her, so it must be someone in the hotel. She'd have to figure it out later, add it to her little game of picking up details around the hotel. Lute lifted her glass, eyeing the liquid within. It was certainly no ambrosia, but it did smell like fine quality liquor. If it was poisoned, there were worse things to go down drinking. 

“This is sipping liquor, don't try to throw it back like a shot or it'll fight you all the way down. Cheers.” Husk held up his glass.

“Santé.” Lute obliged, tapping the glasses together before she took a small taste.

Husk wasn't lying, there was a distinct tingle that worked her way down her throat from even just a sip. Good fucking god, she hadn't realized how much she needed a drink. Even just the slightest touch of alcohol down her throat was helping to ease the seemingly ever present tension between her shoulders. She had never been a big drinker in Heaven, but she indulged occasionally… well maybe more occasionally in the last few years, but she wasn't in the mood to unpack that yet. 

“... I can't believe I'm doing this.” Lute said after a long pause.

“Drinking at midnight? Not that uncommon a habit.”

“You know what I mean, Ass.” Lute sipped her drink, savoring the flavor for a moment before she put it down. “Sitting here, talking to a Sinner over drinks. This… Sinners arent- weren't supposed to be people you talk to. If you'd even suggested this situation a month ago, I'd have slit your throat before you finished talking.” swirling the liquid in her glass, Lute sighed. She could hear herself, and for the first time she was beginning to register exactly how she sounded. It was a fundamentally strange thing to have the curtain pulled back on you. The violence that came so naturally, the depersonalization of Sinners. Recent revelations showed this to be wrong, but a fragment of Lute still clung to these ideas. Even just talking to Husk for a minute had changed her perspective on the man, she saw less of the former overlord and more of the man he might have been in life. “... It's just all happening so fast. It doesn't make sense.”

“Doesn’t make sense? That’s fucking rich. Oh sure, your life fell apart, the status quo went to shit and now you’re struggling to accept the whole ‘Sinners are capable of change and genociding them was wrong’ thing. Not saying I relate to that exactly, probably a big fucking pill to swallow, but you want to know what I’m struggling with?” Husk paused and sipped his whiskey. Purring slightly at the drink, he grinned at Lute, as if this illustrated whatever point he was making. “The fact that I’m a talking, flying cat in Hell, serving a literal angel a glass of whiskey in a hotel owned by the daughter of the fucking Devil because I sold my soul to a serial killer radio host from the 1920s.”

“... Well, when you put it like that, I suppose it's all a bit strange from a mortal perspective.” Lute said. The mortal perspective wasn’t something she had really considered… ever. She typically didn’t give much thought to mortal lives on earth, unless Adam had been interested in some musician’s career. It was easy to forget that most mortals didn’t even believe in magic or angels and demons. It was very odd to remember that to many people, Lute was a mythological creature and not even the strangest one in the building.

“Damn straight. I didn't even believe in any of this shit when I was alive. One day, I'm a washed up stage magician on a major run of bad luck trying to pay the bills by running the tables, then bang, wake up looking like this in Hell. Day before an Extermination, just for that extra kick in the teeth.” Husk explained.

“... Sorry.” Lute mumbled absently, using her drink as an excuse to avoid eye contact.

“Point is. None of this shit makes any fucking sense, but it's our reality whether we like it or not. No choice but to deal with it.” Husk shrugged. “Sometimes you just got to suck it up and play the hands you're dealt… or hand in your case.” he added with a smug grin.

“I will debone you.” Lute threatened, but she was smiling, just a bit.

“That's not a threat I hear very often, good one. All things considered, it could be worse, you aren't exactly a prisoner or anything.” Husk shrugged.

“Aren't I? I'm not allowed to have my prosthetic because Vaggie's still worried I'll snap. Can't exactly blame her.” Lute mumbled the second part as she sipped her drink, then continued. “And sure, I can walk out of here but I can't go anywhere. You lot are something of an anomaly for tolerating my presence, any other Sinner would flay me alive as soon as they figure out what I am.”

“You might be able to get down the street at least. You don’t really look like an angel without the halo or Wings.”

“Fuck you for the reminder, filth.”

“Get over it. Actually, on second thought, you do still stick out. You look more human than most actual humans down here. Weird how that works.” Husk shrugged. He did have a point. Both in Heaven and Hell, a mortal soul maintaining a human appearance was surprisingly a rarity. Lute didn’t pretend to understand what bizarre mechanics dictated the appearance of Sinners and Winners, though it was generally understood that the forms of Sinners tended to reflect some negative aspects of their life or personality… something clicked in Lute’s brain, making her frown. As she reconciled this fact with what she had learned of Husk having some familiarity with suicide attempts- oh. Oh… that’s why he’s a cat. That’s fucked up. 

“... there are worse appearances to have in Hell.” She said, pointedly looking at her drink, rather than the Sinner. Husk shrugged, unaware of her newest little revelation.

“Either way, you don’t have a lot of friends around these parts. Not a great thing, going solo in Hell. Might be a little better once you heal up. A lot less people are stupid enough to challenge the crazy lady swinging a guitar around.” he said with a teasing tone.

“That guitar is one of the most powerful angelic relics ever designed, a weapon with few equals.” Lute snarled, but it was wasted effort, Husk apparently found her as intimidating as a particularly moody pigeon.

“Still looks stupid.”

“A guitar makes more sense as a weapon than a deck of fucking playing cards.” Lute shot back. Rather than being agitated, Husk produced the deck with a flick of his wrist. He made a show of fanning the cards out and then casually performing a few fancy shuffling tricks. The man had surprising hand eye coordination and dexterity for an old drunk.

“Great ain't they? Lined with Angelic steel. That Carmine sure can do wonders.” he said, flicking a card out of the deck to slide in front of Lute. The Ace of Spades. 

Experimentally, Lute picked up the card and inspected it. It was quality cardstock and seemed no different from a mundane card save for the slight silvery glow on the edges. Black and gold, classy design. It was perfectly light and flexible. Instinctively, she recognized an enchantment about the card, similar to the guitar. Pushing a slight amount of will to it, the card went rigid, its edges sharp as a razor. 

“Impressive. That's a complex enchantment for a stack of cards.” Lute considered the card for a moment longer, thinking of the myriad ways it could be used... but ultimately handed it back, Husk shuffling it into the deck before disappearing the whole stack with a flick of his wrist and a wiggle of his fingers. Practical magic, sleight of hand. The cat had a strange little smile on his face, as if Lute had answered some unspoken question. She didn't understand the minds of Sinners. “You said ‘Carmine’ made them?”

“Carmilla Carmine, built a business off reselling all the holy weapons you guys leave behind. She's a master of working with the stuff. Normally a Carmine original is worth a king's ransom, but she hooked us up to prepare for your boyfriend's invasion.” Husk went back to his drink, and so did Lute. It wasn't a pleasant thought, seeing yourself as the antagonist of someone else's story. Still, the idea of a holy weapon Smith in Hell was an interesting prospect. Few angels remained that took up the challenge of working with blessed steel, so it was a rare enough skill set. She didn't even know it was possible for Sinners to handle the task of reforging steel infused with divine power; she'd have to meet this woman and figure out her secrets.

“Not my boyfriend…” Lute mumbled, ignoring the raised eyebrow from Husk. “Well, this Carmine is going to go out of business. Even if the Exterminations continue, Sera isn't going to allow more dumping of blessed weapons in Hell.”

“Eh, She's a clever woman, she'll adapt. She's been around for two and a half centuries or so, she can handle a change in business model.” Husk shrugged. The two sat in companionable silence for a few beats, listening to the music and sipping their drinks before Husk spoke up again. “You know, for being as friendly and approachable as a chainsaw, you're not the worst drinking buddy I've ever had.” 

“You're rather insightful for a washed up drunk.” Lute allowed herself a small smile. This wasn't a scenario she'd ever imagined herself being in, but she didn't hate it as much as she thought. 

“Comes with the territory. Pretty sure bartenders have been hearing people's sob stories for as long as there has been alcohol to serve. Only profession left for an old bastard like me.” Husk topped off their drinks and they both took a drink. Lute was starting to feel the alcohol, not enough to be drunk or tipsy, but just enough to calm her mind and ease her many aches and pains.

“I'm well over twice your age.”

“Only in years, Lute, only in years.”

They continued on like that for a while. It was surprisingly nice, just talking to someone over drinks. Forgetting the pain and guilt for a bit. Lute tried to forget what Husk was and why that bothered her, instead she just… let herself talk to someone. How long had it been since she had interacted with someone without wearing the mantle of commander or holy soldier? It had been years at least. She got to know Husk; how he thought that card tricks and sleight of hand were much more impressive than actual magic, and how terrible of a boss the Radio Demon was. Husk got to know Lute as well, though she was a bit embarrassed at how little she had to say about herself that didn't relate to Adam or the Exterminations… She might need more hobbies.

As the last notes of ‘The Lamp is Low’ drifted away, they decided to call it a night. They'd put away about half the bottle and were feeling a bit tipsy, something which caused Husk to gripe about ‘holy magic ruining years of hard work’. Lute even allowed Husk to help her limp back to the elevator. After pressing the call button, she turned to look back towards the grinning cat demon. Tonight had changed things. There were still a lot of things that needed to change, but this was a step towards… something. She wasn't fit to wax poetic in her drunken state.

“Hey Husk? Can I give you some advice before I turn in?”

“You? Give me advice? Oh, I gotta hear this.” he said, crossing his arms.

“It's very important you pay close attention, it's about time someone told you this…” Lute's expression went serious as she locked eyes with the man. “... Please lose the top hat. It looks so fucking dumb.”

“Oh fuck you, leave the damn hat alone.” he wanted to be mad, but he was smiling too much.

“You're walking around in slacks and suspenders, a bowtie and a top hat. No shirt, no shoes, what are you doing with your life?” She chided, mock seriousness in her tone. 

“I'm not taking fashion advice from the woman wearing a pair of my borrowed pants.”

“You're just mad that I make pathetic look good” Husk and Lute shared a small laugh at that. After that, Lute’s expression turned more somber, she considered their conversation and all it had meant. It felt very strange what she was about to say, but she needed to say it. “But seriously… thank you… this helped.”

“It's what a bartender does. Now go to sleep, I'll see you tomorrow.” Husk waved her off as just as the elevator pinged and its doors slid open. He hadn't said it directly, but there was a challenge in his words. He was pushing her to come out again tomorrow, to stop hiding in her room.

She considered the challenge as she hobbled into the elevator, taking a last look at Husk as the doors slid shut. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but she thought she could try rising to that challenge.

—

“Went better than expected.” Husk said to himself as he watched the lights that indicated the elevator was going back up. 

This had been a gamble, there had been every risk of their new angel resident exploding on him, but Husk was a man to take that kind of bet. He'd noticed how off the angel had been during their fight and secretly had been supportive of Charlie’s choice to rehabilitate the psychopath. 

Charlie had been going on for days about how slow progress was going with Lute, but had seemed in better spirits after getting a handful of words out of her yesterday.  He figured that the angel just needed a chance to interact with someone in a more neutral environment and a bit of alcohol to grease the wheels. Worked every time. If there was one thing that Husk's miserable life made him good for, it was relating to people at their lowest and letting them know they weren't alone. Once he caught her wandering around at night, he knew he had to take the chance. Honestly, once she chilled out a little more, Husk could see her becoming something of a regular drinking buddy. 

As Husk turned back towards the bar, intending to finish cleaning up before he also hobbled off to bed, a sudden chill ran up his spine. Ah. Right. The other reason he stepped in to talk to Lute.

“Spoilsport.” Hissed a crackling voice from the shadows. Husk took a breath to calm himself, doing his best to feign surprise at the voice’s sudden appearance. 

“Didn't think you were still up. Need something, Al?” Husk asked the open air and tried to sound casual. a slight shift of movement drawing his eyes to the dark corners of the room. Despite knowing what he'd see, he still jumped slightly when he caught sight of glowing red eyes and yellow teeth manifesting in the darkness. 

The shadows warped and stretched, Alastor's form melting out of it. The grin plastered on his face was not a very happy one as he made his way across the room to loom over Husk.

“Interfering with my games is a dangerous gamble, even for you.” The Radio Demon sneered. Alastor didn't need to actually summon Husk's chain for the man to feel the chill of iron tightening around his neck. “Especially after all my work to lure her out of her cave.”

“Don't know what you mean.” Husk maintained his innocence, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “Just caught her wandering around, if I knew you had plans I’d left it alone, I swear.”

“Lying is unbecoming of you.” Alastor continued to glare down at him, the temperature in the room dropping to reflect his mood…. But just as quickly it leveled out, Alastor's smile relaxed somewhat. “But in the interest of not making a mess for Niffty to scrub out of the carpet, I'll let it go… provided you remember to never interfere in my games again. Understood?” 

“Y-yes Sir.” Husk whimpered, the crackling buzz of radio static painful against his stupid, oversensitive cat ears. 

“Good man.” Alastor said, giving one last shrill of static to make Husk wince as he turned, walking into the wall. His body blended back into shadows and he was gone as quickly as he appeared.

Daring an ounce of defiance, Husk turned a glare towards the spot the radio demon left. Fucking psychopath. He didn't want to try to imagine what might have happened if he hadn't stepped in to draw Lute's attention. It was clear that Alastor was still rocking a grudge over the fact that the angel had managed to hurt him even a little during their fight. Lute mysteriously disappearing in the night was the least of what Alastor might do given the chance.

Husk wasn't a good man or a hero or anything like that. He was pretty damn sure he'd never fit into the Princess’ little dream of redemption. He was simply too far gone… but Husk would be damned if he let that bastard get his claws into anyone else so long as he had the chance to do something about it.

Chapter Text

As it turned out, it was the alcohol talking. Lute was not ready to rise to this challenge, at all.

Objectively, she knew that she couldn't live like this forever, some ghost haunting the hotel and eating other food. That sounded like a miserable lifestyle. Something had to change but unfortunately the only way to make that change was to get up and face people rather than hiding away like a miserable coward. 

Determined to try to get the ball rolling, she had gotten up rather early, to try to mentally prepare for the decision she had come to last night. The hangover she woke up with was thankfully mild and was easily solved with a glass of water and the painkillers she was supposed to be taking anyway. She was awake and downstairs before breakfast was even ready, trying to hype herself up. Cautiously she had wandered near the Bar and could faintly hear someone working away in the kitchen but had no clue whether it was The Princess or The Radio Demon. She didn't like her odds.

Lute could just wait around in the dining hall until the other residents came down but facing them still felt… ugh. She was acting like some child afraid of their first day of school, afraid the other kids in the class wouldn't like her. Which was an entirely  bizarre and nonsensical feeling to have since she had never been to school, she was innately born with knowledge and skills. Lute wasn't a coward, she was a soldier of heaven. She had flown head first into hell and hordes of the damned without fear… of course, back then, she was virtually immune to harm, so had that been actual bravery or- whatever. Not relevant.

It was just sitting in for a meal with a bunch of people. A very regular thing to do. She could do this. She could do this… right? Did she want to do this? That was a good question.

It was one thing to accept that she had been wrong. A very hard thing to accept that you had been used as a tool of genocide and had been a very willing participant. There were still a lot of factors to consider. Sure, she could accept that not all Sinners were irredeemable monsters, but that didn't suddenly make all Sinners good people. She had seen the worst of humanity all her life, Sinners destroying and betraying each other for personal gain. Her back still ached from The Radio Demon's sadistic torture. Could she really share a meal with someone like that? 

On the other side of the spectrum, could she share a meal with people she had brutally beaten and tried to kill? Sure, her last battle may have been a thinly veiled suicide attempt, but that didn't change the fact that she had fought brutally. Nor did it change that a month prior, she and Adam had tried to kill the lot of them. Or basically haunted their entire post mortal existence.

Something so simple as joining them for breakfast held a lot of meaning. It meant accepting them and asking for a place among them. Could Lute do that? Did she want to? Could she just forgive and forget the way Alastor treated her, deserved or not? Could she look the rest of them in the eye and ask to be forgiven when she had mocked and condemned their attempts to better themselves?

Fuck.

“I'm such a goddamn hypocrite.” Lute grumbled, not liking this new contemplative side of her. She missed just being able to do things without thinking over layers of complicated moral implications. Lute was a soldier, she wanted to follow orders, not think. 

Hoping for fresh air or fresh perspective, she pushed open the doors of the hotel Lobby and limped outside for the first time in days. The air of Hell wasn't as bad as she remembered. Every time she came down for an Extermination, even the masks of the Exorcists couldn't fully protect her from that first, disorienting breath of smokey air. Now that she stood here on the steps, the air was not nearly so laden with smoke and she could barely detect the scent of sulfur unless she was actively looking for it. Had the air changed?

“More likely I've acclimated.” Lute sighed. She wasn't blind to Hell's influence on her, subtle as it was. Now that she was bereft of a Halo and its divine protection she was open to Hell's corrupting touch. Normally she barely needed to worry about things like haircuts or trimming her nails as Angel’s bodies were notoriously slow to change… but after a full week  in Hell she had noticed some subtle shifts. Her nails had become sharper, not yet claws but certainly denser and stronger than normal. She was not nearly so far gone as Vaggie, and likely wouldn't be for a long while yet, but how much longer would it be until Lute started seeing fangs smiling back at her in the mirror? There seemed to be some invisible threshold one must cross before one became a true fallen angel… but the change was inevitable it seemed. 

It wasn't all completely terrible, if she was honest. Her recovery was finally gaining some momentum at least. Oh sure, every movement involving her back and shoulders felt as if she was being tenderly caressed by a salt crusted cheese grater and she might as well have a hot iron rod jammed into her leg… but that was the kind of constant agony that Lute could tolerate. Her mobility had significantly improved and now the mere act of slowly limping around was much less exhausting. Why, another few days and she might be able to get up a flight of stairs without working up a sweat. Fucking stellar.

Life in Hell was not exactly primed to be sunshine and rainbows… but that was kind of the point, wasn’t it? As strange as it was to take life advice from a Sinner, Husk had been right. This was life now and she had to play the hand she was dealt. The only question was if she was going to play it here or try to make her own way in Hell. The terms of her banishment had stated that her fate was to to be dictated by the Princess as the offended party, but she had made no mention of whether or not Lute was free to leave. There technically wasn’t anything stopping Lute from just walking down the hill and disappearing. She’d prefer to get her arm back first, but beggars can’t be choosers.

The alternative to staying her was wandering out into Pentagram city and trying her luck. She had a good view of the city from where she was standing. The Hotel sat perched atop a high hill overlooking Pentagram City; on the one hand a notable target, on the other a good defensible location against ground assault. Lute hadn’t changed her mind about the place needing a wall, seriously any idiot could just walk up off the street. Either way, it offered a great view of the sprawling expanse that Sinners called home. As Lute considered the city, she bore witness to a building exploding on the far end of the Pentagram, while a fire started overtaking several blocks two points over. It was 7am.

“On second thought, dealing with Pride seems like a pain.” she said.

“Baah.”

“My thoughts exactly. Bah” Lute nodded. 

Lute stood there for a few more seconds, looking over the city. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the Princess' pet goat demon was perched on the statue of its fallen companion, glaring at her with undisguised hatred.

Huh. Snuck up on twice in less than twenty four hours? She really was losing her touch. 

“Don't suppose you're in the mood for a personal dialogue about change and forgiveness?” Lute asked. The goat demon gave a slow, deliberate shake of its head, then smacked one hoof into the palm of the other. It had clearly been waiting for a chance to get Lute alone and she had served one up on a silver platter. She’d even given it the benefit of being outside. “Yeah, I thought not.”

The goat demon, Lute believed she had overheard someone call it Razzle, crouched down where it sat on the head of the dragon statue with its wings flared menacingly. It then leaped forward with a bellowing roar much louder than its tiny body should have been able to produce. The effect might have been comical if not for it bursting into flames and reforming several sizes larger into a bus sized dragon.

Instinct kicked in, pumping enough adrenaline through her veins to attempt to override the pain and exhaustion in her system. Leaping to the side just in time as the titanic demon crashed down where she'd been standing. Lute grit her teeth and picked up the pace despite the throbbing of her leg. Behind her, Razzle slid to a stop, talons carving deep furrows into the dirt and grass, in a second he was moving again. The beast had Lute beat in speed and size, eclipsing her lead in moments. 

Her only warning was a tug at the back of her shirt before Lute was yanked mid stride. Razzle's teeth closed around the back of her baggy shirt, his long neck twisting sharply as he let go and sent Lute flying. With no wings to orient herself or slow her fall, She was at the mercy of gravity. Unfortunately, gravity had no mercy to give. Lute hit the ground and bounced, flipping ass over tea kettle until she rolled to a stop. Searing pain roared through Lute’s skull as the landing very likely tore open just about every stitch along her back. Even as she struggled to right herself, she could feel hot blood soaking into the bandages.

“Great way to start the fucking day.” Lute growled, spitting out a chunk of grass. Back to old habits, letting anger attempt to push her forward and help her forget the pain. This kind of bullshit fit marvellously into the nightmare her life had been for the last month or so. Of course the princess' pet was trying to kill her. This was inevitable. She was the one who was stupid enough to stand around in the open with no witnesses. Might as well have painted a target on her fucking red shirt. The Princess’ overly nice treatment of her had made her lazy and complacent.

The ground rumbled with the thundering steps of the dragon's form, reminding her that this was still Hell and she wouldn't survive here on complacency. Rolling onto her stomach, Lute barely managed to get her legs under her and spring away just as Razzle's teeth loudly snapped over the place she had been. Recovering quickly, Lute spun in place, gathering momentum to plant her fist into the temple of the dragon's skull. Razzle roared, stumbling away and shaking its head, disoriented. Lute may have been weakened and in incredible pain, but she was still Lute. Combat cane as naturally as breathing.

If she was going to die, she was going down swinging.

Razzle glared at her, hatred in its glowing red eyes. It charged, bringing up its claws to swing at her. Backpedaling she dodged it, and the swing after it. Even Lute was surprised with how spry she managed to be despite her condition. Looking frustrated, Razzle threw its weight into the next swipe, but Lute dodged it yet again. The creature was more clever than she gave it credit for. With surprising agility for its bulk, it twisted its body, bringing its thick tail around before Lute could react. The tail slammed into her, knocking the air out of her lungs and sending her flying again. For someone without wings, she was getting a lot of air time.

Hitting the side of the hotel with a mighty crack, she slid down to the ground with a groan. Struggling to suck in air, she pushed herself up. Lute’s vision went spotty from the surge of agony along her back but she did what she did best and just shoved all the bad things down into the ‘issues to ignore’ file. She'd been through worse. This creature barely hit with half the force of the Radio Demon, but she was still recovering from that fight.

Lute's mind buzzed, caught between her need to protect herself and all the new emotional hang ups she had recently acquired. Her life was threatened, but did she have a right to fight back? Even when she wanted to die, she had wanted to die fighting. She would fight either way, that was her nature. Hell might not have been quite so evil as she once thought, but it was still fucking Hell. Packed to bursting with things that would take advantage of or kill her if she let them. 

Looking up, the Dragon was glaring at her, a low rolling growl in its throat. Razzle wasn't going to let her keep dodging forever. The beast began slowly raising its head, sucking in air as its throat began to glow with heat visible through its fur. Ah right. Dragon. Snapping its head forward like a spitting cobra, it blasted a boulder sized ball of flame and burning bile towards Lute. There would be no dodging that.

Acting quickly, Lute raised her hand, a flash of Light bringing Adam's guitar into her waiting grip. Shifting it into an axe, she infused it with angelic power. Just as the fireball came towards her, she slashed the blade down through it. A burst of conflicting light and fire detonated the fireball early, creating a twenty foot wide semi circle of blackened, smoldering grass but leaving Lute unharmed. 

Lute panted for air, shaking off a brief dizzy spell from the expenditure of holy magic. Comforting to know she still had the capability, but she needed a lot more practice if she was going to use that frequently. Not nearly so draining as using it against Alastor's shadows. She gripped Adam’s axe in her hand, the first time she’d touched it in days, but the weapon still felt comfortable in her grip. Its presence seemed to breathe a bit of life back into her, helping her continue to shove the mind numbing pain away. Unwilling to show weakness, she stood tall and glared back at the snarling beast, pointing the divine axe at it in challenge.

The two held their positions, sizing each other up. Razzle's eyes narrowed, growl deepening at the sight of the holy weapon. It was rightfully cautious. Lute's sword had cut down the creature’s counterpart in a mere two blows and it wasn't even half the weapon this relic was. Thinking of the other demon she had killed, Lute's eyes flicked past the snarling dragon to the statue just behind it. The creatures were identical, likely twins. Looking back at Razzle, Lute saw something deeper than the anger. This creature was far more alive and intelligent than any living construct she had seen, definitely several tiers above the bargain bin creation that was Frank. If not for its inability to speak, Lute might swear it had a soul. In the dragon's eyes was a bone deep pain. It was a look Lute had seen in the mirror the first few days after the Extermination. It was the look of someone who had lost something dear to them, who desperately needed someone to blame. Lute had been there, pretty recently. Was more or less still there. She’d attempted to pin the blame on Charlie and Vaggie but acting out that vendetta hadn’t exactly worked out how she thought… Still, she understood the feeling, and it was a little strange to be on the other side of the equation.

Raising Adam’s axe higher, The dragon tensed as it prepared for an attack. It didn't come. Rather, Lute threw her arm to the side, the Axe spinning through the air until it struck into the dirt with a quiet thump. Razzle's eyes flicked to the weapon then back to Lute, suspicious of her intent. As much as the weapon felt right in her hand and gave her strength… Now wasn’t the time for it.

“Well?” Lute asked, raising an eyebrow at the hesitating dragon. She held her arm out to the side in an inviting gesture. “You’re angry aren’t you? Are you going to stand there all day or come claim your pound of flesh?”

Raising to the challenge, Razzle let out a bellowing roar as fury overrode any sense of caution. The dragon’s body crouched down, claws digging deep into the dirt as he prepared to charge. Lute felt a smile crack across her face. Crouching slightly, ready to dodge or run from the oncoming assault.

It had been a confusing week since she came to Hell. Time and time again she was met with confusing compassion where there should have been rage. It had put her off guard and befuddled her. The people she had hurt continually showing her sympathy like she was some victim, it had been maddening… She would grant them that it had been an  effective tactic to break down her defenses and pick her apart on a fundamental level. Still, it wasn’t her style of dealing with things. Conversation and contemplation had their place for sure, but she needed a break from that. This, on the other hand, was rage. She understood that. Beating problems into submission was her cup of tea. Razzle was hurt and angry, and desperately needed a way to vent that aggression. If that was what he needed, then Lute was a willing punching bag.

—

High above, Vaggie leaned against the balcony as she watched the scene below. It had been a risky move to let this play out. The chances of Razzle and Lute killing each other weren't exactly zero, but Charlie had said to give them a chance to work things out. Charlie had probably been hoping for a more peaceful solution, rather than the brawl that had been going on for about seven minutes now.

Lute and Razzle were dancing around the courtyard in what might have seemed a brutal melee to a less experienced observer. Razzle was pouncing and swiping in an energetic fury, Lute only barely being fast enough to dodge the bulk of the attacks, any that landed having enough force to send her ragdolling across the grounds. Lute would always get up though, dashing back to fight and giving some light return blows when she got the chance. The pair had come to some unspoken agreement to not use fire or the divine axe, which was the only reason Vaggie hadn't broken them up yet. She could see the fight for what it was. Lute was pushing Razzle to vent his anger and energy, only fighting back enough to keep him agitated and invested until he was emotionally and physically spent.

Emotional catharsis through violence. Very Lute.

Vaggie raised an eye as a tail wack sent Lute cartwheeling through the grass. She almost felt bad for the amount of punishment Lute was taking. Almost. Honestly, Vaggie was having rather mixed emotions about the situation. Lute's presence in general was still a rather confusing thing that she needed to confront.

Seeing Lute get her shit rocked was always great, centuries of losing sparring matches and some well placed feelings of vengeance will make you enjoy another person's pain just a bit. Vaggie was starting to wonder if she was enjoying Schadenfreude a bit too much. Lute absolutely earned her fall from grace, and the powers of Heaven condemning Lute had been something she'd wished for for years. Still, even she wouldn't have wished Alastor's torment on Lute.
Vaggie hadd been cautious yet honestly supportive of Charlie giving the angel a chance to change… she just hadn’t been sure if it would actually work. Despite everything, Lute had been a part of Vaggie's life since the day she was created, it was hard not to care a little. They still had a lot they needed to work out if they were ever going to be close again, but it was better than having Lute dead or enslaved to fucking Alastor.

Still, things were happening… rather fast. Lute’s recovery both physically and mentally was going surprisingly quickly. It had only been a week yet she was nearly back in fighting shape. Clearly not at full strength and Lute was going to be both in pain and exhausted by the end of this fight… but the fact that she was engaging in a several minute long, high energy brawl was astounding for someone who was bedridden and barely mobile a few days ago. Honestly, she seemed to be getting more energetic as the fight went on, Vaggie was pretty sure that wasn't normal. Vaggie was definitely not nearly so active after the injuries that cast her down and she had honestly been in much better shape than Lute at the time. Then again, this was Lute she was talking about. She was, in fact, built different and Vaggie had always been acutely aware of it. Physical stuff aside, they'd made a lot more progress on the mental stuff than Vaggie was expecting. Lute was famously stubborn and Vaggie had expected Lute to fight her new situation tooth and nail… yet she had seemed so defeated and broken, it hadn't even been that hard to crack some holes in her perspective.

It made Vaggie wonder if under all that Zealous bluster, the cracks had already been there.

The whirling sound of a portal opening behind her caught her attention. Looking over her shoulder into the penthouse room she and Charlie shared, a fiery red portal opened and inelegantly spat a stumbling Charlie out of it. The Princess flailed slightly, but managed to keep her footing, and more importantly, the pair of coffee cups in her hands from spilling. Charlie bounced over with a big smile, handing Vaggie a cup of still steaming coffee with a kiss on the cheek.

“You're getting better at that.” Vaggie commented, smiling as she took a sip. Charlie knew how to make coffee just the way she liked it. The last few times Charlie had tried making her own portals, she'd been shot out of them like a cannon.

“Dad's been pushing me to practice sorcery. Still not exactly confident about using long distance stuff, but popping in and around the hotel is doable.” Charlie explained “portals are easy to make, less easy to place.”

“What happens if you place it incorrectly?”

“Are you familiar with ‘clipping’? Like in a video game?” Charlie grimaced, Vaggie nodded. “Noooot fun.” Charlie shuddered, drinking her Coffee to banish away some memory of magical mishaps. Instead, she glanced below. The fight was ongoing, but the pace was beginning to sag. “They're still at it?”

“Mhm. Probably two or three minutes till they tire out. They'll be bruised after this but I don't think anything's broken… except that window.” 

“Small price to pay for progress. All according to keikaku.” Charlie gave a cartoonish villain laugh. It had been Charlie's idea to let things play out naturally when they caught Razzle sneaking up on Lute from their balcony view, but that hardly counted as a plan.

“Introducing you to anime was a mistake.” Vaggie sighed dramatically.

“Yes. Yes it was.” Charlie hummed as she sipped her drink and watched the fight below. Lute managed an open hand slap across Razzle's muzzle that had the dragon snarling and sputtering before it angrily threw Lute into the fountain with a splash. Charlie gave a sympathetic wince. “This is a little more… violent than what I'd like, but I'm learning that redemption is more complicated than sharing circles and trust falls. It looks like they both needed this.”

“Still a non-zero chance that Razzle straight up kills Lute.” Vaggie pointed out.

“... True, but I don’t think he will. It's not what Dazzle would have wanted.” Charlie said, then turned and gave Vaggie a more meaningful look. “So, between this and Husk’s text this morning… What do you think about what we discussed?”

Vaggie sighed, not wanting to answer right away. Charlie had brought up the idea a handful of times throughout the week and Vaggie continued to avoid giving a straight answer. Strictly speaking, it was something that Charlie could have done without Vaggie’s explicit say so, but Charlie had made it clear that Vaggie was her partner in more ways than one, and refused to move forward until Vaggie gave the okay. Vaggie had initially been hesitant, wanting to wait and see if Lute was going to snap or do something stupid first, but it was looking less and less likely that might happen. Honestly, it had a lower chance of happening if they went through with the idea, Lute was someone that operated better with a sense of purpose anyway. It was all but a forgone conclusion, but Vaggie was dragging her feet on agreeing. That wasn’t entirely true, Vaggie had already set things in place specifically for the decision, she just hadn’t said she agreed yet.  The meaning behind agreeing to the idea had her hesitating… Still, Charlie was giving her the look again, the Princess could read her all too well. Vaggie gave a long, defeated sigh.

“Ugh, fine. Make your pitch to her, but make it clear that she and I still need to have a good long talk before anything is official.” Vaggie offered up at last. She really was willing to do just about anything for Charlie it seemed. Charlie looked positively giddy, bouncing up and down so much she almost spilled her coffee before pulling Vaggie into a tight hug. Charlie really could be too cute to handle sometimes. Vaggie just smiled, disengaging herself from the Princess and jerking a thumb down at the battle below. “Now would be the time, looks like the fight is about over. You go and talk, I’ll go see what Alastor is making for breakfast.”

Things were going to change, even if accepting that wasn’t easy… Still, she wasn’t exactly looking forward to the conversation that still needed to happen.

—

Lute hit the ground with a thud, the full weight of Razzle followed as the beast slammed a massive paw onto her chest with enough force to push her an inch or two down into the dirt. Lute gave a low groan. She was learning that she had been rather spoiled by a lifetime of angelic immunity to damage. Further training on endurance would be a necessity if she survived more than a few more minutes.

Razzle’s paw pressed her further into the ground, making her hiss in pain at the increased pressure on her ribcage and her poor, miserable back. Lute made a feeble attempt to push against his paw but it resulted in nothing. She was spent and they both knew it. The therapeutic sparring session was over and now the ball was entirely in Razzle’s court. Wincing, she looked up at the creature, meeting his eyes. The anger and pain was still there, less than there had been at the start of this but it wasn’t just going to disappear. It would never disappear, not entirely. She said nothing, letting the dragon make its choice.

Razzle snarled, pulling his head back. Lute felt for a terrible second that the dragon would bathe her in cleansing flame then and there. Instead, Razzle brought his head down, jaws opening wide and releasing a mighty and prolonged roar. The sound rattled in Lute’s brain and made her ears feel numb with the vibrations… There was also a fair amount of hot spit splattered onto her face, but no fire. After several seconds of the dragon bellowing out its anger and frustration in her face, its jaw snapped shut. The beast gave something of an annoyed huff as the pressure released from Lute’s chest, allowing her to gasp for breath. A flash of light and heat followed, the dragon having returned to its smaller, cuter goat form and was looking at her expectantly.

Lute didn’t want to admit it, but she was more than a little relieved at being spared. Being burned to death didn’t sound like a great time. Grunting with exhaustion and pain, she worked her way to a standing position. By god, she was in pain. Nothing felt broken but she was going to have a patchwork of bruises after this, her leg and spine were absolutely throbbing after all that mistreatment. Still, she felt oddly… invigorated? Despite the pain, she felt the best she had in days. Training and sparring had always excited and energized her, so maybe she had just needed the exercise to help get her out of her funk? She’d think about it later.

Looking down at the small floating goat, she locked eyes with it. It didn’t need to say anything to let Lute know it was waiting for her to speak. She’d been spared, now she was given a chance to plead her case… to a tiny flying goat. She tried not to think about how ridiculous that sounded.

“Glad you… got that out of your system.” she began awkwardly. Razzle raised an eyebrow. God she was bad at this. “Look. You… have a right to be angry. To hate me. I took away someone important to you. Not going to waste your time explaining why I did what I did or anything like that because honestly, none of it makes for a good excuse and you don’t really give a damn about my reasoning.”

Razzle gave a sharp, agitated nod. It did, in fact, not give a good god damn about whatever bullshit had been running through Lute’s head at the time. Fair.

“And, I can’t exactly go back and change what I did, what’s done is done. That being said, between now and then, I have been rather aggressively pushed to see things in a new perspective. Having to face the consequences of my actions and see all the people they hurt has been eye opening.” That was a rather generous way of describing the reality altering events of the last month, but Razzle didn’t care about Lute’s woes. Especially when she was complaining about learning basic empathy. “You don’t need to forgive me, and I don’t expect you to… but I am sorry. I mean that. I hurt you, I hurt a lot of people and… I don't want to be that person anymore. So… think you can give me a chance to try to change?”

Lute held out her hand to the tiny demon, she didn’t know if it could or would shake hands but the gesture felt important. Razzle considered Lute carefully for a few seconds, looking at her face, then at her hand. The anger and tension seemed to have melted out of the goat, just leaving him looking tired. Lute could relate to that feeling. He glanced back towards the statue in the fountain and seemed to come to a silent decision before turning back to Lute with something very much like a smile.

Then the little shit twisted in the air and kicked a hoof into her stomach. Lute doubled over, clutching her gut, but this was part of Razzle’s plan. With a loud bleet, as soon as Lute’s head came in range he headbutted her with enough force to throw her back on her ass. Dazed and confused, Lute lay there trying to blink away stars in her eyes. That little fucker had a head nearly as hard as Alastor’s. A red blur that she was pretty sure was Razzle floated into her vision, closing in on her.

“Baah.” it said with a sagely tone, patting its little hoof hand against Lute’s head twice before it floated off, looking rather satisfied with itself.

“What… the fuck?” Lute groaned, massaging her forehead. That was going to leave a mark for sure.

“I’m pretty sure that’s his way of saying he’ll give you a chance.” It didn’t surprise Lute to see the Princess leaning into her line of sight, looking down at Lute. The fight had been anything but quiet, she was honestly more surprised that there hadn’t been more spectators.

“Morning Princess.” Lute droned.

“Morning Lute, good to see you out of your room.” Charlie smiled that big goofy smile of hers. Insufferably energetic, Lute wasn’t sure how Vaggie could stand it. Still, when the princess offered a hand to help Lute up, she took it albeit with some hesitation. Charlie hoisted Lute up with no visible effort, a hint at the demonic strength that her chipper exterior hid. Lute did at least brush off any of the Princess’ attempts to help her limp over to sit on the stairs leading up to the hotel. She still had her fractured dignity and stubborn independent streak.

Lute nearly collapsed as she sat down. The energy drained rapidly from her body and the rioting of her physical form began. Her body was really not happy about the way it was being treated. While the prospect of regular exercise had sounded tempting before, she felt that if she tried to get back into such a routine, her body might just give up the ghost. Amid all her grunting and groaning, she noted the princess sitting down on the steps next to her. Great. A talk was coming. This had been inevitable, the Princess had wanted a proper talk out of Lute for awhile and didn't seem like she was going to back off. Well, she managed to talk to a Drunk and an angry goat, why not a Princess?

“How bad do I look?” Lute asked, starting off casual. 

“About as bad as you feel, I bet.” Charlie chuckled. “That last headbutt gave you a black eye.”

“Fucking fantastic.” Lute groaned. She'd been getting too used to not being covered in bruises apparently. Being physically and emotionally vulnerable was a waking nightmare.

“Want an ice pack?” The Princess offered. She didn't seem to have one on her person, but Lute was learning the woman was full of surprises 

“Please.”

The Princess drew a circle in the air, making a very small fiery portal that she reached into and pulled out a liquid filled ice pack. Lute had seen the ability before at their first meeting, Charlie had pulled the original pitch papers for her hotel plan out then. Some kind of personal storage ability? Uncommon but not unexpected, The Princess was heir to some very powerful blood. Lute looked at the floppy bag of melted water with a raised eyebrow but Charlie just held up a finger, indicating for Lute to wait. With a flourish, she tapped the bag, followed by a puff of cold mist as it went rigid, now frozen solid.

“Impressive, didn't think you had ice magic.” Lute gratefully took the ice pack, pressing it to her face with a hiss on contact, followed by a shuddering groan of relief.

“Nope!” Charlie popped the P with a smile “Just fire and light magic, so far anyway.” Charlie's smile took on a self satisfied smugness at Lute's confused look. “Fire magic is basically just manipulating heat. Turning the temperature up to burn things. So, I figured if I can force heat into objects, I can also pull heat out of objects. Thermodynamics and all that. Fine tuning it is a little, ah, iffy though. I can freeze a swimming pool with a touch but god forbid I get to make a single ice cube… and that's when flash frozen objects don't combust into shrapnel”

“You're a lot smarter than you look, Princess.” Lute said, but regretted it almost instantly. That sounded a lot like an insult. She really ought to work on breaking the habit of casually insulting anyone from Hell. No longer had that innate superiority to prop herself up on. “… sorry.”

“No worries, I've heard worse.” Charlie dismissed the insult casually. Yeah, Lute knew Charlie had heard worse, Lute had said far worse during their first meeting. She couldn't imagine that The Princess heard such commentary often, even the fool mortals of Hell wouldn't be so stupid as to insult their royalty to her face.

The conversation died for a spell after that, leaving Lute to relish the cool bliss of the ice pack. Moving it from her face to various other growing bruises across her body. She'd gotten her ass handed to her quite a lot recently, Lute rather hoped that wouldn't become a recurring theme.  Sure, she loved fighting, but she was desperately overdue for a win.

“Thank you” Charlie said breaking the silence with the absolute last fucking thing Lute had expected to hear. Looking at the princess like she’d just grown an extra eye, Lute raised an eyebrow to communicate the silent question of ‘what the fuck are you on about?’. Charlie just laughed at her reaction before explaining herself. “For helping Razzle. It's not exactly a conventional method, but he really needed to get that out of his system. He’s been so upset since Dazzle died, but he seemed in better spirits after… well… beating the tar out of you.”

“Not that I was given much choice on the matter.” Lute shrugged off Charlie's thanks and turned her attention towards the statue sitting in the fountain. “He had every right to be angry at me… frankly, so do you.”

“I suppose I do when you put it that way.” Charlie admitted, but she didn’t look angry. “Maybe some part of me is always going to resent you for it, but like Razzle, I’m willing to give you a chance. I feel I’ve made that pretty clear so far.”

“Why?” It was a simple question for Lute to ask, but there was a lot of weight to it. “After everything Adam and I did to you and your friends?”

“I’d be pretty bad at this whole redemption thing if I couldn’t practice what I preach. Every saint has a past, every sinner has a future.” Charlie quoted with a smile. Lute raised an eyebrow at her, but opted to not bring up that she had met Oscar Wilde on one of Adam’s meet n’ greets and Lute had personally considered the man to be something of an insufferable prick. Charlie, oblivious to her opinions on the man behind the quote, soldiered on. She gave Lute a more serious, slightly sad look. “Besides… I kinda figured that we’re even. You took something I loved, I took something you loved.”

“What are you on about? You didn’t take shit from me. If anything you’ve heaped more generosity on me than I can stand.”

“Adam.” Charlie spoke softly, but the word hit Lute like a brick.

“... You didn’t kill him.” Lute said after a pause, shifting away from the Princess and wanting to look at anything but her.

“No, but we both know I’m the reason he’s dead. Wouldn’t have happened if not for all my meddling.” Charlie was right, they both knew it. Charlie scooted a little closer to Lute, putting a hand on her shoulder. Lute twitched at the contact, but didn’t push the Princess away. “... you loved him, didn’t you?”

On instinct, Lute opened her mouth to deny it, but she couldn’t force the words out. She knew it wasn’t her place to love him. He was Adam, the progenitor of humanity, her commander. She was his lieutenant, not his equal. That was the order of things, that was how it was supposed to be… but she’d never been able to control her feelings that well. A life spent pushing to spend every moment with him, serving him to the best of her ability. She fought by his side, laughed at his jokes, listened to him play his music and… Lute had always tried to tell herself that she was just being a good soldier, but deep down she had wanted more. Adam had been her world, and that world was dimmer without him in it.

“Yes.” she said at last.

“Did he love you?” Charlie asked.

Against her will, Lute felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. It had always been a tempting lie to tell herself that he felt the same way. Despite her attempts to be professional, Lute had never exactly been… subtle. Half of Heaven knew how she felt about Adam. Vaggie used to tease her relentlessly for it. She and Adam had been close, closer than friends. He was happy to have her around, in more ways than one. She had even shared his bed plenty of times. It felt so good to believe, to pretend what she felt was mutual… but she knew the truth. It was clear in his womanizing habits, the way he still spoke of Lilith and Eve from time to time. His eyes roamed, but never settled on her. He was gone now, there was no point in pretending. She opened her mouth, but feared she might lose whatever self control that she had left if she spoke it aloud. Instead, she merely gave a weak shake of her head.

Adam cared for her… but he had never loved her.

Charlie’s hand gave her shoulder a small, reassuring squeeze. She was glad of the small comfort, and more glad of the silence. Charlie didn’t press her or give her empty conciliatory platitudes. No, she just gave Lute time to work through her own emotions in silence. The admission revealed something hollow in Lute that she had been dancing around for a long time now. Adam was truly gone, her constant companion since she had been created and he was just… gone forever. Worse yet, admitting to herself that all her centuries of adoration had never been requited. It hurt in a way no physical pain could match. Lute kept her eyes forward, fighting to keep them from blurring with tears. She was a soldier, soldiers didn’t cry over something so meaningless as unrequited crushes. She was better than that. If any tears managed to escape her efforts to hold them back, Charlie tactfully chose not to comment on it. She did offer Lute a handkerchief from her breast pocket, but that was for the dirt on her face and nothing else. 

After a minute, Lute managed to compose herself, handing Charlie back a rather wet and dirty handkerchief which she accepted without comment. After taking a few deep breaths, Lute turned to look at the Princess who had a patient smile.

“I know you hated him. You had every reason to, he was an ass to you… We both were. But there was more to him than that. Adam was… everything to me. Now that he's gone, I don't know what I'm doing. I threw a tantrum and landed on your doorstep. I'm only alive because you took pity on me. Only accepted the truth after having it beaten into me and shoved in my face. Now I'm sitting here saying that I want to be better in a hotel full of people I mocked and assaulted for trying to do the same thing. I'm a goddamn hypocrite.” Lute said with a weary sigh.

“It's true, you are.” Charlie said with a sagely nod.

“Thanks, Princess.” Lute grumbled.

“Being a hypocrite isn't the worst thing in the world. ‘Sometimes a hypocrite is nothing more than a man in the process of changing.’” Charlie quoted, and the words stoked something in Lute.

“... Can it really be that easy?”

“I think it can, if you really believe everything you said to Razzle about not being the person you were before?” Charlie asked.

“I meant every word. I want to be better… and I am sorry.” Lute admitted, looking over at the Princess and seeing a warm smile come over Charlie’s face. She doubted that Charlie would fully forgive her, but as had been with Razzle, it felt important to say… still there was something else still eating at Lute. “That being said, as much as I want to change, I don’t know if I can… Princess, I’m an angel. Exorcists are a bit more human than most Heavenborn, but I was never a mortal. We don’t have Free Will in the same way they do, we are made with a purpose that defines us, that instructs our existence. I was made to be a soldier. Being an Exorcist suited me because it suited that purpose. I took pride in my duty because I believed I was protecting people. I enjoyed Exterminations because I like fighting and I’m good at it. I never questioned because I had a worthy master to give me orders.” Lute didn’t need to look to know that Charlie made a bit of a face at the concept of calling Adam a ‘worthy master’, but she elected to ignore that. Adam had been worthy to her. “But now, I can’t go back, not after all I’ve seen… but, I can’t not be what I am.”

Charlie digested what Lute said, looking thoughtful, but undaunted.

“Are you at least willing to try?” she asked. Lute hesitated for a moment, but she nodded. Lute could not change fundamental truths about who she was. She would always be an angel, always be a soldier… but maybe she could change what that meant, find a new purpose to serve. She had to try. The smile on the Princess’ face seemed to indicate that she was satisfied with Lute’s answer. Charlie hopped up with an energetic bounce, making a grand gesture towards Pentagram city in the distance. “Well, I can give you the best possible chance to prove your commitment to change. You can work on fixing the damage you’ve done by helping others, working with me at the Hotel!”

“... you’re offering me… a job?” Lute blinked, trying to be sure she heard the Princess correctly. Lots of excited head bobbling, so probably a yes. Not how Lute expected this day to go, getting pitched to work at the hotel she tried to destroy… twice. “That is… an offer. For sure… Just, how can I help anyone? What would I even do? I doubt you want to re-arm me and send me out into Hell to pick fights with Overlords.”

“No no, rather you didn’t start fights. We have enough enemies as is, thank you very much.” The Princess laughed briefly, but her smile turned genuine. “You already have shown that you can help people. Nothing I’ve tried to cheer Razzle up worked, but you got through to him. You might be able to get to others. Plus, the job I want you for ticks all your boxes! As hotel security you can help protect Sinners, occasionally fight some people and, well, let's not use the word ‘master’ but technically Vaggie and I would give you job duties that are like… adjacent to orders.”

“Security… you want me to go back to fighting Sinners?” 

“ Only people who are a threat to the hotel. As I said, the hotel does have some enemies already. Even with the news I put out about Sir Pentious, not everyone suddenly wants to change. People resist change… sometimes violently” Charlie said with a pointed look at Lute, who rolled her eyes. “And some people coming to the hotel will be leaving bad situations, they need to know they'll be safe here.”

“I… suppose you have a point, but aren't you already pretty stacked on powerful people to keep the place safe?” Lute asked. True, she could probably have solo beaten the bulk of the staff if she hadn't been subconsciously holding back the last fight. She wasn't sure where she stacked up against Vaggie currently, but Alastor, Charlie and goddamn Lucifer could probably crush almost any threat with minimal effort.

“Looks that way, but Dad and I really don't like fighting unless it's like… apocalypse scenario. Didn't want to fight you guys the first time. Vaggie's good at it and she's been in charge of security up until now, but with the hotel getting bigger, she's been digging more and more into running the business side of the Hotel. She's very good at it. Gosh she's smart.” Charlie gushed, getting a dreamy look in her eyes. While Lute was glad that Charlie correctly identified and appreciated the same traits that Lute had once admired in Vaggie, Charlie seemed in danger of going on a gushing rant about her girlfriend. Intent on saving the momentum of the conversation, Lute interrupted Charlie’s day dream by snapping her fingers a few times to get the Princess on track. “And as for Alastor, well he can be rather…er-”

“Sadistic? Malicious? Downright psychotic?” Lute offered when she saw the Princess struggling for a word to describe the Radio Demon.

“I was going to say ‘overly aggressive’ but yeah. He's something of a long term project on the redemption road. Very, very long term…” Charlie laughed awkwardly, and shook herself, turning her attention back to Lute. “Fighting is kinda in your nature, and you'd probably go stir crazy if you were cut off cold turkey. So, working Hotel security seems a happy medium for you to put that to good use… Provided you follow some terms of engagement regarding when it's appropriate levels of violence, but I'm sure you and Vaggie can figure that out. So? What do you say?”

Charlie held her hand out for Lute to shake. The angel considered the hand offered by the daughter of the devil. The offer came with ups and downs. Primarily, it officially tied her to the Hotel and by extension, the Service of Charlotte Morningstar, something she'd never had even considered before all this… but the opportunity and purpose offered sounded good, certainly better than anything she had planned, which was nothing. 

She shook Charlie's hand and The Princess' grin got even wider.

“Welcome to the Hotel.”

“Yeah yeah, let's hope you don't regret it.” Lute said with a small smile.

“I will warn you that, technically, it won’t be like… official official until you and Vaggie talk, but based on your expression, I think you knew that.” 

“I assumed.” Lute said, withholding any emotion from the statement. A life working for the Hotel meant unavoidable proximity to Vaggie for the foreseeable future. There was no reality in which they wouldn’t be forced to have a long and very, very upsetting conversation at one point. Charlie gave a few nods, clearly she had opinions about the situation between the two angels but didn’t think it was here place to speak on yet. 

“Still! Good news is good news! Let's go inside and tell everyone! Should be just in time for breakfast. I don't know what Alastor was making but I smelled bacon.” Charlie said, practically giddy as she moved to rush into the Hotel. Lute had to stop her by grabbing at her pant leg.

“I can't get up.” she said flatly.

“... Say what?”

“As we have been sitting here, the muscles in my legs have completely given up. I am in incredible pain and I cannot stand.” Lute explained.

“Oh.” Charlie tilted slightly to look at Lute’s back and visibly cringed. “Yeah… your shirt is more gold than red huh? Popped stitches?”

“Very likely every single one.” Lute nodded.

“... Do you need me to carry you?”

“Yes.” Lute held up a finger as Charlie moved to her side to pick her up. “save the princess carry shit for your girlfriend.”

After some figuring, they concluded there was really only one good option for Lute’s state. It simply came at the price of sending the last of her dignity behind to be executed via firing squad. With very little effort, Lute was hoisted up and thrown over the Princess’ shoulder like some freshly hunted animal. Lute had been worried about how the rest of the residents would react to her joining them for a meal for the first time, but showing up being carried around by the Princess while sporting a black eye made for a great icebreaker.

Chapter Text

Traffic in Hell was terrible, which came as a surprise to exactly no one. Everything in Hell was terrible, so why not traffic too? Sure, Pentagram City being a singular city technically made it walkable but it was by no means a small city. Packed to bursting with centuries worth of the dead, even after hundreds of years of Exterminations the population still sat comfortably in the billions. Pentagram City was larger than any mortal built city by orders of magnitude and it still could barely contain its population. Ergo, walking took an exceedingly long time and meant dealing with the endless tides of wretches crawling the streets. The alternative was fucking shitty traffic. Traffic law didn't really exist down here and a fair chunk of Hell's residents were here precisely because they'd been terrible drivers in life. Additionally, since death via car crash was something of a mild inconvenience, crashes were profoundly common. More than half were fully intentional. The best way to avoid some jackass powerfucking your tailgate for sport was to be a very powerful person in a very recognizable vehicle.

Velvette's personal Alighieri Mk9 was one such vehicle. A sleek modern sports car, painted in desire red and navy blue with white streaks to perfectly match her hair. Iconic, stylish, modern, the perfect vehicle for the perfect Overlord. More importantly, easily recognized as something not to fuck with on the road. The last Sinner to even chip the paint had ended up crucified on the outside of the V tower. It was Velvette’s favorite vehicle, though it was wasted on the dense traffic of Pentagram City. She rarely got to open up the engine outside of the rare late night joy ride. How she longed for the long open highways of Wrath, but she was bound to Pride.

It sucked. 

Sucked almost as much as the traffic she'd been stuck in. Of course, today of all days. The one bleeding day she actually chose to keep her phone off. Fucking miserable. Velvette would normally be all too happy to flick through her phone while stuck in traffic, she had an empire to run after all. Meetings to schedule, tweets to make, fear mongering to be done, secrets to leak, the usual day to day. There was always something to do and people to control… Unfortunately, her phone was off and in her purse.

Vox had claimed that he would leave her to handle this on her own, but she knew that paranoid flat screen too well. The man had tracking apps in her and Valentino’s phones for ‘security’ reasons. He needed to know everything that was happening, everywhere, all the time. Especially if it could potentially relate back to him. It was just his nature. Typically, Velvette didn't mind, it was useful to her to be on his side and have access to everything his information network pulled in. Vox was usually a man of his word when it came to her, so he would  avoid checking in on her in theory but she figured it would be best to avoid giving him the temptation of trying. This was her business and she intended to keep it that way.

After an utterly agonizing wait, there was finally a chance to turn off the main road onto a side road. Soon, the familiar edifice of Carmine Industries came into view. The industrial complex was built like a military fortress, and it operated like one too. Carmilla Carmine was a woman of ruthless intelligence and brutal efficiency. As such, she spared no expense in arming herself and protecting her interests behind layers of thick walls, guard patrols, and heavy artillery. Pulling her car around, Velvette drove into a private parking garage towards the back of the complex.

Naturally, as she did, a security guard stepped up to block her access to the security gate. Resisting the urge to pump the gas and flatten him, Velvette eased her vehicle to a stop, rolling down the window instead. She eyed the figure briefly, a tall wolf like hellhound with several deep scars showing through his fur. Carmilla had a habit of employing Hellhounds, as low ranking Hellborn they were on average slightly weaker than Sinner security guards but more than made up for it in raw feral ferocity and loyalty that bordered on devotion. Not to mention, being outfitted with some of Carmine's best equipment helped close the gap. Velvette glanced up and down at the Hellhound and frowned, the modern tactical gear he was kitted out with was very dull, pure function, no aesthetic quality to speak of. Terrible. 

“Ma'am, this is a private parking garage, I will have to strongly suggest you leave immediately or I will be authorized in the use of extreme force.” The Hellhound snarled, either he didn't know who she was or he didn't care. He made a show of flicking the safety off the assault rifle in his hands, glowing silver patterns coming to life on its surface as holy energy infused the weapon. Definitely above average gear than was being sold on the market. Carmilla armed her men well but it hardly made a difference. Having a fancy weapon wouldn't matter against someone like Velvette, but this guard was giving her the kind of glare that implied he was happy to test his luck and go down swinging. Fucking crazy mutts.

Velvette wasn't impressed. She didn't even dignify the man with a response, only holding up a hand and silently counting down on her fingers.

“Ma’am, this is your Final Warni - huh?” The Hellhound paused before Velvette even got down to her pinky, The guard's ear piece buzzed with an incoming message. He held a hand up to the device, frowning in confusion. “Hello? Yes ma’am… Are you sure?... Very well, ma’am.” The Hellhound sighed, looking annoyed that he was cheated out of a fight. Velvette wasn’t sure if the Hellhound was just that loyal or simply battle crazy. She smirked at the sound of the safety being reengaged. Stepping aside, he gestured Velvette forward as the security gate unlocked and rolled out of the way. “My apologies. Please proceed”

“Damn right.” Velvette said, flipping the guard off as she rolled on by. 

Once she was nice and parked, she stepped out of her car to take a moment to stretch her legs. Velvette hated coming here, the V tower was much more efficient. Vox had added in enough surveillance and scanners to know who was coming before they even stepped foot on the property. They could have doors open and cameras rolling by the time they hit the doors or, alternatively, the building on lockdown and security armed. But no, Carmine Industries was a place of layer upon layer of security all designed to make you wait and waste time. For anyone else, there would likely be about a half dozen more security checkpoints before you'd get into the main building unless Carmine herself walked you in.

For Velvette however…

A light ‘ding’ caught her attention as a set of double doors slid open. It was no surprise to see Odette stepping through. The woman had her usual prim and proper look. Neatly pressed lab coat, red tinted glasses, and that god awful horned headband. Seriously, who did she think she was fooling?

“Velvette.” Odette said by way of greeting.

Velvette narrowed her eyes in annoyance, folding her arms as she glared back at the woman. “That's Overlord Velvette to you. I killed a lot of people to get this title, I deserve to be called such.”

“A formality I might observe if this was official business.” Odette said, undaunted. “If it was, you would have called to make an appointment. Besides, Vox typically handles any interactions between Carmine Industries and the Vees. Ergo, Personal visit. Now, what do you want, Velvette ?”

“You're testing your luck, Odette . ” Velvette snarled.

“And you are testing my patience. If we could kindly cut the banter, I do have actual responsibilities I need to attend. This is a business, not a public park.” Odette shot back, glaring at Velvette. There was a vast difference in power between the two, but Odette wasn't one to be easily cowed. Velvette had rather gotten used to people bending and cowering at her command. Experiencing people with an actual spine was almost refreshing… almost.

“Whatever, just take me to see Carmilla already. I have questions I need answered.”

“... Mother is working on a personal project right now. I imagine she would prefer to not be disturbed. Especially not by you after your public tantrum last month.” Odette sneered.

“Oh? You think that was a tantrum? I'll fucking show you a tantrum, Four eyes.” Velvette hissed, stepping closer until she was face to face with Odette. Her red and white eyes glowing dangerously as she made a point of letting out just a touch of her power, her twintails beginning to move and snap dangerously like living snakes. Even without Vox or Valentino to back her up, Velvette was a powerhouse in her own right. Power rightfully earned through hard work and tens of thousands of soul contracts in her name. “Either you take me to see her, or I start ripping my way through the building and you get stuck with replacing half the fucking staff. How's that for a tantrum?” 

Odette glared back at her, locking eyes for several seconds, but she broke in the end. Carmilla trained a sense of practicality into her daughters, Odette knew how to recognize a fight she'd lose. With an annoyed sigh, she turned away from Velvette and began walking back towards the double doors with a gesture to follow.

“Fan-fucking-tastic.” Velvette said, putting the metaphorical lid back on her power and walking along. She absolutely could start tearing her way through this place, but this was a new outfit and she wasn't in the mood to spend an evening patching bullet holes. 

The pair walked alongside each other in silence, making their way through the labyrinthine halls of the industrial complex. A gesture from Odette was all that was needed for them to pass security checkpoints undisturbed. As they walked, Odette pulled out her tablet and began tapping away. 

“Before you ask, I'm only logging that an Overlord made an unscheduled visit in the logs. Not saying who.” Odette said.

“Whatever, as long as my name is off the record. Not my circus, not my monkeys.”

“Your phone is disconnected from the network, yes?”

“Turned off and still in my car. Going to spend all evening playing catch up after this.” Velvette responded, patting her hips to show she wasn't rocking any hidden pockets. She hated the hoops and ladders of Carmine security but such was the price of privacy. “Vox doesn't need to know I came here directly.”

“Good. I don't want to spend my evening prying his spyware out of the system… again. He's still banned from the premises, by the way.” Odette said with a huff of annoyance. 

“He knows, still complains about it.” Velvette gave a small chuckle at the memory. Vox had come to Carmine Industries exactly one time to do business in person. The moment he had connected to the wifi, he had flooded the system with spyware and malware, which was common practice for him. Unfortunately, it was one of the only times he got caught. Carmilla personally removed him from the premises by force, had the system thoroughly cleaned and scrubbed, and now would only do business with him over an old landline phone that was entirely disconnected from the network. It infuriated Vox to no end. 

Velvette and Odette lapsed into silence for a while as they continued to walk. As they began getting closer to the main office, Velvette could hear Odette tapping her nail against the back of the tablet. Something was on her mind. She spoke up as they came upon an intersection. The left hand path was labeled ‘Weapon testing’ and the right path was ‘Main office’. Velvette began drifting towards the right path, but Odette paused at the intersection to speak up.

“... Clara is currently in the shooting range… if you wanted to see her?” She asked tentatively.

Velvette stopped in her tracks. A dozen different emotions flared up and were immediately repressed in rapid succession. None of it showed on her face, she managed to keep the mask of cool indifference in place. She didn't need the distraction, some things were better left buried. After a beat of silence, Velvette continued walking without reply. She could feel Odette’s look of disapproval, but the woman followed along as they made their way to the main office without comment. That was for the best.

A minute later, they stood by the door to Carmilla's office. Tapping a button, Odette spoke into an intercom.

“Mother, you have a visitor.”

“... An unscheduled one. Who is it?” Carmilla's voice crackled over the speaker after a brief delay.

“It's Velvette. Personal visit.” Odette said.

There was a distinct, long pause. Velvette could practically hear the deep weary sigh despite the intercom not being active. No response came, but there was a notable ‘click’ as the door unlocked. A wordless invitation in. Fucking finally.

“I trust you can make your way out on your own without trying to rob the place blind?” Odette asked Velvette, though she was turning away to get back to some other business that required her attention.

“Yeah yeah, fuck you.” Velvette flipped the bird to Odette as she made her way into the office. Velvette had already well established she wasn't here to make a public scene. While there was an appeal to lining her pockets with some of the goodies that were likely hiding in R&D, she didn't need Vox asking questions about where and how she got them. Even she could only make so many excuses.

Pushing her way into the office, she was met with a familiar scene. Carmilla's office was much like the woman herself. Aggressively neat and orderly, yet subtly threatening. The place was as spacious as any corner office, but Carmilla had a rather spartan attitude on using that space. It left plenty of open floor, leaning towards a modern utilitarian look, but Velvette knew it was more so that Carmilla had plenty of space to move and maneuver if a fight broke out. On top of that, a clever eye could spot the thickness of the bulletproof glass and heft of a steel reinforced door. Carmilla never did anything by half measures. 

The woman herself didn't bother to look up as Velvette entered. She was sitting at her desk, hair done up in its usual mock devil horn style, and engrossed in her current project. Much of the desk space had been cleared, a neatly arranged set of metal parts from some disassembled piece of hardware covering the available space. Velvette couldn't immediately pick out what it had been, as pulled apart as it was, though several of the pieces were in bad repair; bent, broken, or gouged metal that seemed to have barely survived a fight. Carmilla was engrossed in delicately reassembling a smaller internal part of the machine. Her large hands held tools that she maneuvered with surgical precision and care, twisting together screws and moving small pieces of metal into place.

“Velvette, to what do I owe the honor of your presence?” Carmilla asked, using a pair of tweezers to hold up a thin strip of silvery metal for closer inspection. She only spared Velvette an emotionless glance of acknowledgement before turning down to scribble in a nearby notebook. 

“I've got questions that I need answered. You know I wouldn't come here otherwise.” Velvette said, noting the very slight twitch of Carmilla's expression. The woman was known for being practically unreadable, but Velvette had enough experience with her to pick up the micro expressions she tried to hide. Same way she'd picked up that Carmilla had known something about the decapitated angel.

“I will promise you honesty, but cannot guarantee answers.” Carmilla responded flatly.

“Fucking insufferably vague as always.” Velvette grumbled, walking around the desk to pick up and fiddled with one of the metal parts on the desk. Carmilla spared a small glare, but seemed to know that complaining would only feed into Velvette’s need to antagonize her. The piece in her hands was a small curved blade, very faintly glowing with holy energy. Didn't seem practical for a knife, too small. Arrowhead? Too curved. Whatever, she dropped it back to the table, rolling her eyes as Carmilla stopped her work to move it back to the place it had been before. The woman was such a neat freak. “What I would like to fucking know why you gave up your ‘oh so important’ neutrality? You keeping your nose out of other people's business was one of your only redeeming qualities.”

“I can't say I know what you mean.” Carmilla mused as she returned to her work and connected two larger pieces together. The shape of the object made more sense now. Some kind of prosthetic limb? Velvette frowned, the object looked familiar but she couldn’t immediately place it. 

“Don't play dumb, tell me why you're shacking up with the damn Morningstars!” Velvette growled, slamming her hands on the table. Carmilla frowned, pausing her work again to reorganize a few pieces of disturbed machinery. Velvette had half a mind to just slap it all off the table to force the woman to give Velvette her full attention. 

“What a vulgar turn of phrase. I am not ‘shacking up’ with the royal family. We have merely been conducting regular business.” 

“Bull and shit! Why are you buying so much property near the hotel? Don't try to get around it, Vox already pulled up all the records on property bought under Carmine Industries.” Velvette growled. 

“Vox’s paranoia is rubbing off on you. The Morningstars may be royalty, but they have no business experience. As far as I can tell, the Hotel is being run entirely out of pocket with no interest in turning a profit. You well know that just while many Sinners acknowledge the existence of the royal family, they make no effort to respect it and more often than not actively disrespect it. Navigating the complexity of property acquisition would have been a nightmare for them, but is fairly routine for me.” Carmilla explained, unconcerned by Velvette's interrogation. “Their interest in creating additional facilities under the Hotel's banner came up when I visited to recollect the bulk of the weapons I rented to them, so I offered to lend a hand. The land is officially under my name, but the Morningstars can do what they like with it. I collect a modest rental fee and am entitled to a minor favor, which I hardly need to explain the value of a favor from the Morningstars.”

Broken clocks really were right twice a day. She couldn't believe Valentino in his infinite stupidity had been right. Still, something about this situation still stank.

“What the fuck do they even need to buy property for? They just rebuilt that stupid hotel.”

“A variety of care facilities, rehab clinics, therapy offices and the like. All accessories to facilitate the Princess’ efforts for redemption of the masses.” Carmilla lifted a more damaged piece of metal. She turned it back and forth in her hand for a few moments, before resting one of her hands on it. As she slowly moved her hand across the surface, the bends in the metal smoothed out as easily as folds in a cloth sheet. Carmilla’s personal brand of magic gave her an exceptional ability to work with metal, which wasn’t uncommon for magically inclined people that had an interest in that kind of thing, but the fact that she had learned how to extend the ability even to blessed steel was what made her the best weaponsmith in Hell, not just the Ring of Pride. Even Velvette didn’t know Carmilla’s precious trick for working angelic metal. Fucking infuriating.

“They really think that shit will catch on? Sinners aren’t exactly known for self improvement. That’s exactly why they are easy to manipulate.” Velvette allowed herself a slight grin at Carmilla’s annoyed glance. Carmilla had made her disapproval of Velvette’s tactics clear on multiple occasions, but the woman’s disapproval only fueled Velvette’s fire rather than smothered it.

“That may change, given the most recent news. Don’t pretend you haven’t heard.”

Velvette just grumbled in reply. The Princess had managed to get on the news again and ate up a bunch of airtime to go on about the upcoming grand reopening of the hotel and some other more hard to believe news. Postponed and reduced Exterminations and apparently redemption fucking works . Bold claim, especially if she wanted the public to believe that dipshit Sir Snakedick got redeemed. The redemption of Sinners was a very mixed conversation topic, especially since the Princess hadn't offered any actual proof of her claim outside of her staff being eyewitnesses. On the one hand, overpopulation was an actual issue that caused daily problems so any way to reduce the Sinner headcount was welcome. On the other hand, Sinners trying to better themselves could impact business. She had initially discounted the potential impact of the Hotel on their finances as she never expected the masses to potentially take it seriously. 

If the Princess wasn't spitting bullshit and there legitimately was a way out of Hell by redemption that meant less people desperate enough to take contracts, less interest in their products or security, so on and so forth. Vox had been fuming about it for days now. He was still of the mind that pushing a direct attempt to destroy the fucking hotel was both bad press and a bad fucking idea. It was still run by the Princess and goddamn Lucifer afterall. For now, he had settled on having Velvette organize a minor smear campaign to distract from and discredit the redemption claims until they could get a realistic idea of how many people were actually going to try checking into the Hotel.

“It's complicated. Can’t understand why you’re so supportive. Less Exterminations are going to cut into your supply, yeah?” Velvette asked. Angelic steel wasn’t exactly common material. Completely impossible to make in Hell as far as she knew. The only way to get any was to grab the discarded weapons that the Exorcists left behind, which Carmine Industries had been going out of their way to corner the collection market for the past two and a half centuries. 

“Quite the opposite actually. If the supply goes down, but the demand remains, then prices go up. I have more than enough blessed steel stockpiled in the vault to last a good long while and the demand will never truly go away. Even if the Princess’ plans bring about genuine change, people will always find reasons to fight each other, in this or any other ring. Such is nature.” Carmilla explained calmly, picking up the small curved blade and fitting it onto one of the fingertips of the prosthetic limb. That's when it clicked for Velvette. She finally remembered why that hunk of metal looked so familiar.

It was the arm of the crazy angel that attacked the hotel. The one the Princess had decided to spare and recruit after Alastor tore it a new asshole. Carmilla was fixing the angel’s arm, which could only mean one thing. Anger flared in Velvette. 

“Everyone always wants to fight, that right? Is that why you’re literally re-arming a fucking Exorcist!?” The air crackled with Velvette’s rising anger, her hair flicking about dangerously again. Carmilla looked up from her work, meeting the fury in Velvette’s gaze with a look of warning. The woman would not dismiss the threat Velvette posed and would be more than prepared to retaliate. A small part of Velvette was curious to see where that path might lead, how that showdown might play out. Carmilla had been around for a little over two and a half centuries and her power demanded respect among Pentagram City's ruling Overlords, while Velvette had only been in the overlord game for a decade or so but her rise to power had been nothing short of meteoric.

“Velvette. Listen and think before you act.” Carmilla warned. The slight ‘tink’ of the woman’s bladed ballet shoes touching against the floor could be heard. The silence held for a few painful seconds of them glaring at each other but this time Velvette gave in first. Again, she didn’t want to spend all evening fixing her new outfit. That was the reason. The only reason.

Velvette pointed down at the half reassembled limb. “Elaborate.” she demanded. Carmilla, as ready for a fight as she seemed to be, visibly relaxed at the chance to explain.

“Again, it was at the request of the Princess. This new exorcist will apparently be working as the hotel’s security in the future and would be needing this back for obvious reasons. I have the skills to repair it and I get a chance to study the enchantments used in its creation. The Princess assured me that the exorcist will not be a threat to Hell’s population.” Carmilla explained, gesturing at the notebook she had been writing in. It at least made sense that Carmine was getting something out of this. Enchanted items from Heaven were incredibly rare and Carmilla went out of her way to study any she could find in order to learn more about how to replicate the advanced enchantments that powered them. Recreating and applying those enchantments on holy weapons was the other secret ingredient that put Carmine Industries above the competition. An enchantment to power an artificial limb was likely complex enough to have had Carmilla drooling over it when she first got her oversized hands on it.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re arming and supporting the Princess with powerful weapons… again.” Velvette snarled, turning away to pace around the room. Carmilla made her so fucking angry, it was hard to keep her composure without some nobody peon to lash out at. “It was one thing when you dropped a damn arsenal in their lap last Extermination. When the Vees and I pitch an assault against Heaven, it's all ‘no, we need more information and can’t take risks’, but apparently it's fine when the Devil’s daughter asks. Made me a little pissed, not going to lie, but fuck it. Fine. Guess you finally grew a backbone. Except! You didn’t! Now you’re handing weapons to angels! There is being neutral and then there is just not making any fucking sense. Who’s goddamn side are you on!?” Velvette screamed.

She expected Carmilla to get angry or defensive, but instead the woman just looked tired. She heaved out a great sigh and stood from her desk, stepping around it and standing in front of Velvette. Carmilla gently lifted her hands as if to reach out for the younger overlord, but Velvette just stepped out of her reach. Carmilla looked saddened, but didn’t press it.

“Velvette. I am on the side I have always been on. Of Order.”

“Order in Hell, Fucking funny. You’re an arms dealer. You sell weapons of war. Yet you shy away when the Vees and I push for war with Heaven, withhold information about how to kill angels, and arm the enemy.” Velvette growled at the woman, but she still didn’t seem to have any luck at getting under her skin. Apparently she could only manage that when that Spirit Halloween looking old fuck Zestial was around to insult.

“I do not support war with Heaven because I know what Heaven is capable of.”

“And how can you be sure of how powerful those holier-than-thou fucks are? Studying divine trash you found on the floor doesn't make you a fucking expert!” Velvette kept her eyes trained on Carmilla, trying to pick out any of her usual micro-expressions that gave away her thoughts. She knew that Carmilla was sitting on information she wasn't sharing and needed to try to pry it out of her. Unfortunately, the older Overlord had her guard up and kept her face neutral.

“Centuries of experience does make me an expert. I have spoken with ancient demons and fallen angels to expand my understanding of both Heaven and Hell. Velvette, you must understand. There are far greater powers in Heaven than a mere army of Exorcists.” Carmilla explained, gravely serious. Was that… fear in her eyes? “Greater powers than you have tried to conquer Heaven, and yet, Lucifer still lives in Hell.”

Velvette twitched at that. Memories of the battle of the hotel came to her mind without permission. Lucifer had been something of a joke in Hell for as long as she had been around. He was king and nobody questioned it but the man just… didn’t do anything. Lilith had been more of a presence, with her songs and encouragements for the Sinners to resist and endure up until she just fucked off to god knows where. People had never really taken the Devil seriously until the fight at the hotel. Vox’s cameras had caught everything. Adam had been a terrifying force of power, taking down Alastor with one good hit, destroying an airship with a flick of the wrist, beating the stuffing out of the princess, and firing a laser that cut a fucking hill in half… Then Lucifer showed up and treated the First Man like a damn toy. It took mere seconds for the Devil to totally embarrass and defeat Adam. Hell had gotten a rather clear reminder of why he was king.

“I have made it my duty to keep a balance in Hell. As an arms dealer, I control the most dangerous resource in Hell and decide how it will be used and by who. I can influence who succeeds in conflicts based on whether I agree to arm them or not, or change the outcome based on the quality of the weapons I provide. Think about what might happen if I did not control the sale of angelic weapons? Any fool could pick up the weapons off the street and use them to slaughter their fellow Sinners. Pride would be in chaos, more overlords would rise and get dangerous ideas. Heaven would see this as a threat and only press the boot harder down on our necks. I cannot risk such retribution coming down on my family.” The fear and worry hadn’t been imagined. These were the kind of thoughts that must keep Carmilla up at night. The sincerity of Carmilla’s words disarmed Velvette. As the woman spoke of family, she reached a hand up to rest on the side of Velvette’s face and Velvette was almost tempted to let her but pulled away at the last second. 

“I… you… you really think we have no chance against Heaven? None at all?”

“No. You have grown so much as an overlord and… while I cannot say I approve of the quality of their character, you allies are powerful. Yet, Overlords are only powerful compared to Sinners and the lesser Hellborn. Even Alastor, Zestiel and I would struggle in combat against some of ranks of the Ars Goetia. There are simply greater powers in both Heaven and Hell, the likes of which I pray you never need to understand.” Carmilla said. 

“The Vees aren’t that bad… Well, Val is. But fuck it, fine. You’re absolutely sure Heaven would fuck us in a fight” Velvette sighed, grabbing a chair from in front of Carmilla’s desk and flopping into it with a dramatic huff. “so, you’re playing along with the Princess’ redemption plan only because Heaven seems to be in favor of it, and they'll  be less likely to go scorched earth on us, not because you’d jump to support the hotel in a fight?”

“More or less.” Carmilla gave one of her famously annoying vague answers, but seemed relieved that the topic of fighting for or against the powers of Heaven was being left alone. The woman turned to make herself busy with preparing some tea. “You seem rather concerned by the notion of my support for the hotel. Do the Vees have an intent to make an enemy of the hotel?”

“I mean… probably not? Maybe? Val wants to blow it up but only because his boytoy checked in. Vox just doesn’t trust anything with Alastor’s fingerprints on it. I can see it being a minor drag on business, but nothing major. The Princess says she just wants to redeem sinners, but she’s more powerful than she lets on.”

“I think your companions are seeing a conflict where none exists.” Carmilla carried over a tray with her usual tea set and a folder set on the side of it. With a tap on the side of the teapot, it boiled instantly, steam flowing out of the spout. Velvette tried not to think about how she saw Zestial openly using one of Carmilla’s teacups during the last meeting. She really wanted to avoid mental images related to what Carmilla and that freaky fossil got up to behind closed doors. “From my meetings with her, the Princess shows no interest in conflict and has only acted defensively. Don’t poke the nest, and you won’t attract the bees”

“More or less what I told Vox.” Velvette agreed. She was offered a cup, which she heaped sugar into. She much preferred coffee to tea, but there was a very very slight nostalgic draw to drinking this. Carmilla never changed tea brands, no matter how much time passed. Sipping her tea, Velvette pondered Carmilla’s words… Paranoia aside, she had a point. It would be entirely possible to just ignore the hotel. Vox could probably find a way to settle his bullshit with Alastor on their own terms, the Radio Demon probably wouldn’t hide from a direct fight outside of the hotel if it came down to it. The problem, as usual, was probably going to be Valentino. The moth had needed to be talked out of shooting up the place twice already. His obsession with micromanaging that porn star was a potential issue, but probably something that could be managed. Even Valentino wasn’t so stupid as to start a fight without Vox and Velvette backing him… Hopefully.

Even if it did turn out as a fight, as long as Carmilla wasn’t officially an ally of the hotel, Velvette didn’t really give a shit. Making sure the arms dealer was going to keep her nose out of it was her only concern.

“I guess it wouldn’t be that much trouble to just ignore it.” Velvette conceded, then tilted her head towards the folder. “What’s with that?”

“Something for you actually.” Carmilla took her own cup, taking a few moments to enjoy the aroma of the tea before taking a dainty sip. “Easier to give it to you now rather than arrange an anonymous delivery.”

With a raised eyebrow, Velvette picked it up and skimmed the contents. Aesthetic photos, design notes, color swatches, and similar documents greeted her. Velvette blinked a few times, looking across the desk at Carmilla. “The fuck is this?”

“I met with Prince Seir for business recently. During our conversation, I learned the Prince is quite the patron of the arts. Our shared love of ballet brought up that he was struggling to find an adequate costume designer for an upcoming performance he was funding. Naturally, I offered to pass the job along to the best designer I know” Carmilla’s smile was warm and affectionate. Velvette just frowned, any shred of a good mood evaporating like the steam coming from her tea.

“I’m fully fucking capable of finding work without your help. I don’t need handouts.”

“You know that wasn’t my intention.” Carmilla sighed. “I’ve never coddled you Velvette. I wouldn’t have made the recommendation if I didn’t think you were worthy of the work. I make an effort to keep up with your career, your last Winter collection was particularly impressive.”

Velvette  did have to admit that her comments about not coddling her children were true at least. Carmilla was a woman of high expectations. Odette and Clara had earned their places in Carmine Industries, not merely been handed them through nepotism. Velvette had made her way in the world entirely on her own merits. Considering that, she gave the folder another glance. With the context of it being for a ballet, she was instantly able to put together further details. The aesthetic choices could only mean one thing.

“La Bayadère…” Velvette mumbled, ignoring the proud smile that Carmilla flashed her. Velvette knew the performance, among ballet it was a bit more unique. Velvette didn’t typically work with Indian fashion, particularly old traditional Indian… but there was some potential in working with the less conventional designs and vibrant colors. The designer in her was working against her will, playing with a few dozen ideas from only a passing glance. She snapped the folder shut with an over dramatic roll of her eyes. “Fine. I’ll take the job, but only because those demon royals are loaded. Again, I don’t need your help getting work.”

“I merely want to support my daughter’s talents. Working on meaningful projects such as this is a better use of your time than those… love potions.” Carmilla said with a grimace. 

“Annnnd there it is. Moralizing from the arms dealer.” Velvette groaned. Carmilla always did this. They’d nearly have a moment where they managed to get along, then Carmilla just had to open her mouth and voice her unwanted opinions. The ‘love potions’ weren’t even that bad. Expensive but non-addictive and barely lasting a few days, whatever sicko was buying them was likely to quickly run out of money then get their shit kicked in by whoever they were using them against. Unethical sure, but hardly the worst thing that got sound in fucking Hell. “Because some questionably consensual hanky panky is so much worse than arming gangsters with the only weapons that can permakill Sinners.”

“Velvette… I just explained why I do what I do.” Carmilla began to explain, but Velvette cut her off.

“And I’m happy to let you run your business however you like, so how about you let me run mine?” Velvette drained her tea and set it down with more force than was necessary. She’d let this conversation go on way longer than needed. “When I left, we had a simple agreement. I stay in Pride and I keep your secret, in return, you leave me alone to live my life however I want to live it. I’ve kept my end of the bargain, you keep yours.” she snarled as she stood up.

Carmilla looked genuinely hurt at Velvette’s words, but it only lasted a second. It left equal feelings of satisfaction and regret in Velvette’s stomach. Carmilla’s mask of professionalism slid back into place just as quickly as it had fallen. Learning how to control your emotions was one of the few valuable things Velvette had ever learned from the woman.

“... You are right, I spoke out of turn.” 

“Damn right you did.” Velvette snatched up the folder. She would still take it because the job would probably pay a fortune, she could think of some explanation for how she got the gig on the ride back. “Now, I have to get back to doing my job and playing pretend Sinner. Goodbye, Carmilla.” she hissed, emphasizing the woman’s first name. It had been a long, long time since she had called the woman her mother, and it wouldn’t be happening any time soon.

“... goodbye Velvette. Until we meet again.” Out of the corner of her eye, Velvette saw the way Carmilla slumped back in her chair. She just snorted and turned to walk out the door.

She had work to get back to.

Chapter Text

Naturally, there was a stall in the momentum of events. Charlie seemed fully excited to rush things along, but Lute's condition after her fight with Razzle convinced her to slow down. Breakfast was more of a quick meat and greet to grab breakfast while the staff laughed at her being carried around like a sack of potatoes and staining Charlie's coat. The rest of her day was spent with Charlie getting yet more practice sewing. 

As they guessed, Razzle had literally slapped all the stitches out of Lute and left her with enough bruises that she couldn't walk for the rest of the day. Lute was getting more than a little sick and tired of bed rest.

Even if it hurt, she was determined to get moving the next day, which was where she found herself now… or rather where Charlie found her.

“... Did you walk down the stairs?” Charlie asked when she found Lute leaning against the wall and panting for breath. 

“That… would be… correct, your Highness.” Lute managed between breaths. The constant pain and stress on her bruised muscles chewed through her stamina at an expedited rate, but she had done it successfully. She would take little victories wherever she could find them.

“One: why? It's like twelve flights, was there something wrong with the elevator?” 

“I find… pushing my limits… helps my recovery.” In her defense, it did seem to be true. Against conventional logic, her body was steadily recovering, even faster than an angel should. The fight had set her back a step, but it had also highlighted how close she was to recovery. 

“That's not exactly how that is supposed to work. As the closest thing you have to a doctor, I'd really recommend you do the opposite of that.” Charlie tapped the tips of her fingers together, eyes roaming up and down Lute's form. Probably just taking in how exhausted Lute looked. While it was a victory in the moment, ultimately it was kind of pathetic to be sweating after walking down a few flights of stairs.

“Is that an order, ma’am?”

“Well, no… just a suggestion from the person that stitches you up about once a day.”

“With respect, Your Highness; if it's not an order, then I don't plan to stop.” Done catching her breath, Lute pushed off the wall and began limping past Charlie to the lobby. The Princess gave a dramatic roll of her eyes and followed along.

“That's the other thing. There's really no need to be that formal. Feels weird, coming from you… considering, you know, everything .” Charlie gestured a lot as she spoke, Lute was noticing. The Princess was very animated, all the time. Lute closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she remembered all the times she had insulted the Princess to her face and belittled her position. That had been acceptable, if not expected, behavior to her mind previously, but now she was banished to Hell and therefore a resident under the Princess' domain and authority. There was no denying that she was here for the long term, likely until the end of her immortal life, therefore she needed to adapt to the local custom. When in Rome, as they say.

“You are royalty, correct?” Lute looked back at the Princess with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, yes, I am. It's just-” Charlie began, but Lute cut her off.

“Then technically, I am not being formal enough, ma'am. You are both my soon to be boss, my social superior, and technically something of a parole officer; referring to you with proper terms of respect is the bare minimum.” Lute was a creature of laws, rules, and regulations. They lent meaning and structure to the world around her. All the previous rules that Lute operated under had quite rapidly been broken, proven false, or no longer applied to her. Hell seemed to have precious few laws or rules to govern it, so Lute was latching onto whatever she could get.

“It's just really not necessary.” The Princess sighed.

“Are you going to order me to stop?”

“... No… I’m sensing a pattern here.” 

“Astute observation, ma’am.” Lute couldn't help but smirk a bit at Charlie's frustrated little frown. It was amusing to see what managed to frustrate or annoy the Princess. Lute had seen so much of the Princess being a saintly do-gooder, seeing that Charlie could actually get annoyed or frustrated made the woman feel more real. Seeing that Lute had managed to successfully limp into the lobby, she rewarded herself by learning against the counter to catch her breath. Thus far, her assessment of pushing herself to aid her recovery was turning out surprisingly true. Going down the stairs had been torture and going back up was likely to be worse, but now that she had a minute to catch her breath she was feeling pretty okay.  Obviously still in pain and sweatier than she'd like to be, but the usual dull constant agony that was easy to ignore. Last she'd been stitched up, most of her wounds had even made good progress closing up. A few more days and she might even be functional.

“I’m just going to assume that's your new coping mechanism and call it a day.” Charlie guessed correctly, not that Lute would acknowledge it. “Vaggie was never that big on being formal, I mean she got a little stiff when she figured out who I was but it faded pretty quickly.” Charlie complained, casually calling a small portal and yanking out a small towel for Lute to use.

“Vaggie and I are very different people. I assumed this was obvious, ma’am. Strictly speaking, she doesn't need to  hold such formality with you. Her position as your-” Lute trailed off for a second, taking the towel and wiping her brow as an excuse to think of the right word. There was no ring on any of Charlie's fingers, thus no engagement. “... Consort affords her the privilege of familiarity. Though why you don't insist upon proper address from your staff and subjects is beyond me.”

“Girlfriend. Vaggie is my girlfriend. Consort sounds… blegh.” Charlie stuck out her tongue at the dated terminology. “As for everyone else, I want them to see me as a friend, not as a Princess. It's called being nice and approachable.”

“Miss Morningstar, if you plan to use your hotel to whip these demons into shape, then I would think asking for them to properly respect you is a decent place to start.”

“Lute. I'm not trying to ‘whip people into shape’. I don't want to control what anyone does or how they act. I mean, like sure, maybe if I just threw all my personal morals out the window and lorded over everyone like some crazy dictator, then… yeah, I could use force to stop people from drinking, gambling, killing, raping, drug dealing, and all those other bad things but it wouldn't actually make them change. They wouldn't choose to be better. They'd just have someone else to be mad at, and I really don't want to be that person.” Charlie shuddered at the very idea, eyes distant at the thought of the hypothetical future.

Lute considered the idea. Charlotte Morningstar, sitting high upon the throne of Hell in her full demonic form, slain Overlords at her feet, Vaggie sat on the arm of her throne. It was a powerful image. A Hell under her control with all vices removed… Honestly, it didn't sound awful to Lute's ears. The place would probably be a lot cleaner at the bare minimum. Still, the look on Charlie’s face implied the idea made her uncomfortable. “As you wish, ma’am.”

“I mean, yeah, one day I'll be in charge and I’d like to have some laws but nothing crazy. The Hotel is supposed to be a happy place. Speaking of which, since you're intent on wandering around anyway, how about I give you the official tour?” It didn't sound like the most thrilling activity, but it wasn't like Lute had much better to do. She'd walked around the main floor once, in the dark and alone… but it was probably a good idea to familiarize herself with what she was supposed to eventually be protecting. As soon as she nodded her assent the Princess was taking her by the hand and eagerly dragging her along.

“Husk told me you've seen the bar, So we can skip that. I mean, it is a really nice bar though. Brand new piano, Alastor said he'd be willing to play every now and then, so we have that to look forward to!” Charlie babbled as she pulled Lute along, who struggled to keep up due to the unfortunate combination of her limp and the Princess' longer stride.

“I meant to… ask about that.” Lute said, forcing herself to walk a little faster. “If this hotel is meant to discourage sin, why have a bar at all?”

“Not exactly my idea, more of an Alastor addition, buuuut Husk is good at running the bar. Plus, Dad and I were reading some mental health books from Earth and it turns out that cutting people off cold turkey can backfire pretty bad. So, we are experimenting with… well, I don't like to call them ‘Indulgences’ because of weird middle ages Christianity connotations, but ways for Sinners to explore their vices in safe, responsible ways. Ease them into developing healthier habits.” Charlie explained, gesturing with her free hand while keeping hold of Lute with the other. “For example, alcohol is one of the only things at the hotel that people actually have to pay for and Husk proposed a strict three drink limit. That way people can drink if they want to relax and socialize, but we discourage drinking to excess. Getting an AA club or something might be something we can do later down the line.”

“I suppose.” Lute felt that there was wisdom in the idea, but allowing Sinners access to vices in moderation seemed a tough line to tread. 

“If the bar works out well, we might try other similar things, like maybe a boxing club for people with anger issues? I'm not big on fighting, but if it's like… safe, it should be fine right?” 

“... That has some promise.” Lute conceded. Assuming that Charlie didn't want her actually killing Sinners, she would probably need to put more practice into hand to hand. 

The tour continued on for quite some time. Lute had to admit that the layout did make more sense during the day time, especially when she wasn't jumping at shadows. The Hotel was packed to bursting with amenities, some of which Lute thought weren't entirely necessary. A ballroom seemed a little ambitious, she doubted you could corral a bunch of chaotic Sinners together for a peaceful formal event. The problem she was seeing was going to be staff, as the place seemed much larger than their handful of employees could handle. Charlie, however, seemed confident that they'd be able to recruit potential long time staff from new guests. Lute felt she was being rather optimistic about that… but it had worked on her, so who was she to criticize.

Lute also quickly noticed that the Princess was very… touchy feely. Not inappropriately or anything, the woman was obviously enamored with Vaggie and took the opportunity to speak to that point about every other sentence, but still. She seemed to constantly have a hand on Lute as she gave her tour. Pulling Lute along by the hand, resting a hand on her shoulder or back, that kind of thing. Considering the Princess, she was likely this way with most anyone who didn't explicitly forbid touching. One might expect more caution given that before now, Lute had been something of an antagonist in Charlie's life, but the Princess was either exceedingly trusting or very confident in how weak and harmless Lute currently was.

The last place on their trip was the gym, which Lute had glanced at before but took more appreciation in now. Even Heavenly bodies needed maintenance and Lute was not used to going so long without routine workouts of some kind. She'd spent 80% of her time in Hell being immobile and horizontal. Not to mention that despite the fact the food she was being given was on average healthier than what she'd eaten while in Heaven, the cooks at the hotel tended to favor generous portion sizes. 

“I didn't really know what to buy, I'm more of a jogger than a hardcore workout-aholic, so Dad and I just kind of ordered one or two of everything.” Charlie explained, casually picking up a 50lb dumbbell and turning it around in her hands as if it was weightless.

“I see, ma’am.” Lute raised an eyebrow at the display. She wondered what exactly Charlie could accomplish if she ever actually put effort towards physical training… rather than awkwardly trying to balance the weight on one finger, her tongue stuck out slightly in concentration. Lute was still on the fence as to whether Charlie's choice of pacifism was a strength or a weakness. “It's probably one of your more impressive facilities.”

“I can tell you the baths are certainly better than the old Exorcist’s barracks.” came a voice that made Lute and Charlie jump, leading to Charlie awkwardly fumbling the weight. Instinct took over, making Lute step forward and grab the falling weight before it landed on the Princess' foot. She grunted at the sudden weight, but stopped it successfully. Thankfully her arm was one of the few things on her body still in good shape. 

“Oopsie, guess I shouldn't play with weights. Nice catch though! Lemme just-There we go.” Charlie apologized, taking the weight back and replacing it on the rack. With that settled, they both turned to look at the source of the voice. 

Vaggie leaned against the doorway to the gym, watching them both with a slight smirk. She was dressed in workout clothes, hair pulled back into a ponytail, towel draped over her shoulders and slightly sweaty. She had clearly come back from a run, or rather, a flight based on the fact that she still had her wings out. Lute couldn't help but eye the wings with a mix of guilt and envy swirling in her gut. The loss of her wings was quite literally a fresh wound, now useless muscles twitching painfully at the very thought of her lack of flight. She hadn't gotten a great look at Vaggie's new wings in the chaos of the last Extermination. She noted now that they were colored in shades of silver and grey, showing no signs of the old Exorcists pattern. A sign that Vaggie had moved on with her life it seemed… Even if it was a mark of how much things had changed, they suited Vaggie.

Vaggie caught on to Lute’s staring, narrowing her eye with a frown as she dismissed her wings with a flash of light. Lute might’ve marveled at the trick if not for the growing air of tension between the two angels. Thankfully, it was broken by Charlie, who was either oblivious or uncaring of the tension. She swept in, pulling her tiny girlfriend into a tight hug, making her squeak and instantly melting any of the seriousness out of the scene.

“There you are! I was wondering where you got off to!” Charlie smiled as she hugged her squirming girlfriend.

“C-Charlie! Stop! I'm all sweaty and gross!” Vaggie protested in vain, unable to escape the Princess' grip.

“Aaaw, that's okay, I still love you even when you're stinky.” Booping her girlfriend on the nose, she finally let the woman go. Lute kept her face very neutral, as laughing at how easily Charlie could defuse Vaggie would likely get her stabbed. “Glad we found you, I was just giving Lute an official tour of the hotel.”

“On her best behavior, I hope.” Vaggie said, attempting to regain her cool and serious demeanor but the fact she was using her towel to wipe any trace of sweat off her girlfriend diminished the effect somewhat.

“Of course… ma’am.” Both Lute and Vaggie made something of a face at that. As with Charlie, Vaggie was to be her boss going forward. Even more, Lute's position within the hotel hinged on Vaggie's approval, it technically wasn't too late for the offer to be rescinded and Lute shipped off to some obscure realm of the lower circles. Still, giving such an address to Vaggie felt… odd. Lute had been her superior for a century and a half. The reverse of the hat situation felt weird, and Lute could tell that the opinion was mutual. “I must admit that the hotel is more impressive than I expected.”

“Especially considering how quickly we rebuilt it.” Vaggie cut back, glare in full force. Lute had to admit, Vaggie had developed quite the impressive glare during her time in Hell.

“I… apologize for my involvement. I would dare to say I've been punished appropriately.” Lute responded, reaching over to adjust her rolled up, empty sleeve. 

“Jury’s still out on that.” Vaggie said. The unfortunate part was that Lute knew that Vaggie was baiting her, but it was still working. She could feel just the start of her fingers twitching as she locked eyes with Vaggie's cold glare. Yes, Vaggie had good reason to be short with her. Yes, Lute understood her new position in the pecking order… Unfortunately that didn't change the fact that Lute was an angry, spiteful animal that didn't take well to being talked down to.

Just as she began to get tempted to say or do something stupid, Charlie stepped in. The Princess put her hands on both angel's shoulders, giving an awkward laugh as she tried to break the rising tension.

“Hooookay, well, it's good that you two got to see each other. I should probably get Lute back upstairs while you shower, that way everyone is nice and clean and happy and not shabby for dinner.” She smiled, looking back and forth between the glaring pair. “You are coming to dinner this time, right Lute?”

Vaggie and Lute held their mutual glare for a few more seconds before coming to a silent, mutual agreement that if they were going to have it out (and they absolutely would) it wouldn't be right now, in front of Charlie. As one, they both released the tension with a sigh. “I … suppose I could join you all for dinner. If that is permitted, ma’am?”

“Of course, it's about time you had a proper introduction to everyone!” Charlie gave her expected chipper answer, but the question wasn't really for her.

“Sure. See you in a bit, babe.” Vaggie gave a last look of warning towards Lute before she turned to march off towards the gym showers. Charlie and Lute watched her for a few seconds before Charlie started leading her back towards the lobby. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Charlie did her best to give Lute a smile as she spoke up.

“I… uh… know that there is a lot between you two… but I'm rooting for you, Lute! You guys were friends once, I'm sure you two can get back there with some time and effort.” Ever the optimist.

“I… appreciate the sentiment, your Highness… but I doubt it.” Not after everything she'd done. The issue was, now with her eyes opened it was clear to see that she had no reason to hate or degrade Vaggie. The other angel had never committed any real crime. Her punishment has been undeserved… and that was exactly the problem. Lute had ruined Vaggie's life over and over again for her zealous devotion to one great big lie. There was a lot more that needed to be said and done than just a simple ‘sorry’.

—

The days that followed were… not the worst. Not the best, but not the worst. Living in Hell and playing nice with its residents was still something of a struggle to adjust to even if Lute had come to terms with her new life. 

That first meal had been a decidedly awkward and stilted affair. Without the levity of Lute showing off a fresh new brand of pathetic, the dinner had been… uncomfortably quiet. Lute didn't really know what to say to any of them, as explaining her rushed emotional journey was a wasted effort. She had learned from Razzle that nobody particularly cared for her sob story, everyone was waiting to judge her actions. About the only excitement of that dinner was Alastor giving her a knowing smirk while she figured out how to eat steak one handed. Insufferable ass. Husk at least called her out for a nightcap afterwards, so it wasn't a total waste.

The days ticked by at an insufferably slow but steady pace. Bit by bit, she got more used to being around the Sinners and they got more used to her existing in proximity to them. She didn't have any other life changing conversations aside from a quick confrontation with the Arsonist Cyclops, apparently full name ‘Cherri Bomb’, who seemed less angry and more weirdly concerned with Lute confirming that Sir Pentious did indeed ascend to Heaven. After that was confirmed (Lute might have skipped mentioning her attempted assassination of the man.), the woman seemed to digest Lute's presence pretty easily and even acted somewhat friendly. Angel Dust didn't seem that offset by her presence, but he might have been a better actor than the average pornstar. Niffty was... Niffty.

Also, apparently the hotel had a cat. Keekee… Lute had never met a cat in her life, but she was pretty sure they had more than one eye.

Most of Lute's time was still spent alone, but she was actively trying to stay out of her room. Her extended confinement there had been driving her crazy. 

Like a good soldier, she made an effort to understand the environment and potential threats. Jogging the perimeter of the Hotel served both as a way to help her understand the terrain and good exercise. She’d not yet attempted a trip alone into Pentagram city. She might be willing to extend some cautious trust to The Princess, Vaggie, and the staff of the Hotel (with one antlered exception) but trusting the larger population of Hell was another matter. She surely saw enough signs of brutal turf wars, muggings, and other various crimes from simply observing the city’s edge to affirm that line of thought.

She was also able to reaffirm her previous assumptions about the placement of the hotel itself. It was in a very defensible position. There was virtually no manner of access except from the front and any attackers would be fighting uphill. Unfortunately, there was no wall or even a gate separating the hotel from the city itself so entry was rather easy. Lute understood that was likely part of The Princess’ design, but she could at least try to make some suggestions when she became the official head of security. She wasn’t sure if the hotel would ever be under threat of a ground assault, but since she was grounded it was the only thing she had to focus on.

The more time passed, the more she felt the loss of her wings. The wounds had mostly healed and the pain was fading, but more and more she was feeling the lack of mobility that had been forced upon her. The loss of an arm was one thing to adjust to. Heaven’s magic had made the physical recovery nearly instant and while it had been an adjustment, she still had another arm and could get a fully functional prosthetic to replace it (she was still hoping to get that back… eventually). The loss of her wings was something different. She had lost an entire dimension of movement. Once, a casual flap of her wings could help her get things off high shelves. She’d never needed things like stairs or elevators to get around the floors of buildings. If she wanted to survey the terrain, she could easily get a bird’s eye view. Now? Well, she’d never needed to think about how limiting it was to live without the ability.

As her morning jog came to a halt, she looked up to the highest floor of the hotel, just in time to see a winged form leap from the balcony and take flight. Vaggie was getting her own morning exercise in. Both angel's were going out of their way to avoid each other outside of meals, only talking sparingly during them. They were also running out of time, Charlie had mentioned she wanted to have Lute's situation resolved before the Hotel's grand opening… and that was only 3 days away… but Lute wasn't going to make the first move. Seeing the other angel was making wide laps around the Hotel, Lute decided it was best that she got back inside. Partly to be anywhere that Vaggie wasn't and partly to force a last bit of exercise in the gym.

It might seem odd to be pushing for extra exercise given her condition, but she was recovering in record time. Against traditional wisdom, she had been proved right that pushing her body against its limits seemed to accelerate her physical recovery rather than hinder it. It was hard to tell if that was natural or not, in her life as an Exorcist she had never been seriously wounded and needed to test her body's ability to heal. Whatever the reason, despite it not yet being two weeks since her battle with Alastor, she was very nearly in fighting shape again… or at least as good as she could be with only three of her original six limbs.

After a quick workout and shower, she took a deep breath before pushing her way into the dining room.

Despite how early she was, Husk had beat her down to the table. Husk was still the one she seemed to get along with best, despite him constantly either being drunk or hungover with no discernible in between. Based on the way he was tipping a flask into a mug of black coffee, he was intent on a smooth transition between the two states. Still, he gave Lute a nod of acknowledgement as she stepped into the dining hall.

“Lute.” he greeted.

“Husk.” she responded as she settled into a chair next to Husk. Short, simple greeting with no wasted breath or false enthusiasm. Just the way she liked it. A beat later, Vaggie made her way into the dining hall with a folder of paperwork tucked under her arm. She spared Lute a quiet glance of acknowledgement, before giving Husk a much warmer smile and a pat on the back as she passed and got set up at the opposite end of the table. Wanting to fill the silence before it got awkward, Lute spoke up. “Who’s cooking?” 

“Alastor, beat Charlie down here by a minute. Smells like something with eggs.” Husk said, using a spoon to mix his coffee before taking a sip. 

“I tried to help make breakfast, but it was harder to catch Frank than I thought! I think he and Razzle are plotting against me.” interjected Niffty, who appeared from seemingly nowhere, making Lute jump slightly. Despite better than average senses and centuries of training her combat instincts, Lute still wasn’t able to keep a good sense of where the tiny Sinner might pop up.

“... Right.” Lute said, eyeing the cheery little… thing. She still didn’t know what to make of Niffty in general. She was the one that had killed Adam, and Lute wasn’t exactly a fan of her as a concept but at the same time it was clear that Niffty was not all there. The nature of Niffty’s madness eluded Lute but she was getting slightly used to it. Her deranged actions were mostly targeted towards bugs and rats,  especially now that Niffty had been informed not to stab Lute unless Vaggie said so. For general purposes, Lute tried to avoid Niffty when she had the option.

Breakfast was not an option for avoiding Niffty, unfortunately. Especially when the tiny Sinner was sitting cross legged on the table between Lute and Husk. As Lute grabbed a pitcher and poured herself a cup of orange juice, Niffty seemed intent on asking her a question.

“Are there boy angels?” she asked, looking at Lute intently. 

“Yes. Obviously. What kind of question is that?” Lute responded, tilting her head. This was a thing that was happening more often now, as the Sinners got more used to her presence. They would ask her things about Heaven and the Exorcists occasionally. Things they very much could have just asked Vaggie, but it never seemed to occur to them to do so. Maybe they just thought of Lute as more angelic as Vaggie had spent much of her time pretending to be a Sinner. She glanced again towards Vaggie, who just shrugged, not interested in the conversation or stepping in to answer.

“I’ve only ever seen girl angels. I was afraid Heaven was a dyke party or something.” Niffty responded with the bizarre kind of innocence that can only come from madness.

“... there are no male Exorcists. There are plenty of male angels of other varieties.” Lute elaborated, trying to keep her eye from twitching. “Adam made us by hand and decided to only make female exorcists.”

“If only he remembered to give you a better personality.” hummed Husk, smirking over his coffee, that actually got a slight chuckle from the otherwise silent angel at the other end of the table.

“Go fuck yourself, Husk.” Lute sighed.

Before Husk could respond, the doors of the dining hall slammed open, with the Angel Dust making a grand entrance befitting of his loud and annoying personality.

“I’ll be more than happy to help ya fuck yourself, Husky, I know it gets lonely for ya.” Angel smirked as he made his way in, a sleepy looking Cherri Bomb stumbling in his wake. Lute wasn’t yet sure if Angel just tended to hang out of sight until a chance to make some sex joke came around or if the mere opportunity summoned him from the ether, but he hadn’t missed an opening yet. 

Angel strode across the room, pausing the ruffle Husk’s hair before he claimed a nearby seat. “Mornin’ Niff, Husky, Toots, Tits.” Husk just made an annoyed grunt in greeting while Niffty answered with a cheery wave.

“... am I supposed to be… ‘Tits’?” Lute drawled, glaring at Angel as he made himself comfortable, using his extra arms to pull out a chair for Cherri to plop into. The arsonist was not much of a morning person.

“Yea, best way for me to tell yous two apart. You’re Tits.” he said pointing to Lute, then shifting to point at Vaggie. “She’s Toots. Ya’ know, since she’s flat as a plank but has a great  ass, but you gotta great rack but only an okay ass.” Angel explained as if his logic was infallible. Lute had to remind herself that she wasn’t allowed to stab him.

“You’re insufferable.” Lute groaned, going back to her juice.

“You get numb to it after a while.” Vaggie added, unhelpfully. Though, in truth, Angel’s sexual commentary was only proving slightly more frequent than Adam’s, if more ‘colorful’.

“Toots, tits, whatever. Can I please have some coffee?” Cherri mumbled, still half asleep.

“Yeah yeah, gimmie a sec.” Angel picked up the coffee pot and set to work making a pair of drinks. In a way, it was mildly fascinating to watch Angel prepare coffee. His four arms worked in tandem, mixing in various amounts of cream, sugar, and other additives into the two cups. The process felt more like alchemy than coffee making, and Lute was fairly sure the end drinks were less than 50% coffee by volume by the time he was done. Nonetheless, Cherri seemed to immediately perk up when given her drink, while Angel turned back to Lute. “Speakin’ of. Never see you drinking coffee, what’s up with that?”

“I don't drink coffee. It tastes like hot dirt that hates me personally.”

“You fuckin' serious? I thought French people loved coffee! French roast an’ French press an’ shit.” Angel almost seemed offended at her opinion on coffee. Lute very easily could have made a point about if Angel was sure if he liked coffee, based on how little was in his cup compared to the cream and sugar.

“This again, I am not French. I speak French but I am not French. I was not born in France, I wasn’t born on Earth, I’ve never even been to France” Lute explained for what felt like the hundredth time. She answered one question about how Exorcists were made and now Angeldust couldn’t shut up about her being French.

“That don’t matter. I’m second generation Italian-American. Mi Nonna came fresh off the boat when papà was a tiny bambino and other stereotypes as well. I can smell a Frenchie at 20 paces, and you’re one of ‘em. Why, I’ll even bet ya don’t shave.” Angel said, a smug grin cracking across his face.

“I-what? Why does that- how dare you!” Lute sputtered in surprise at the accusation, a growl entering her voice. She was normally willing to let go of most insults given her position. It was one thing to poke fun at her, but insulting her grooming habits on baseless claims? Who did this Sinner think he was? Who did he think he was talking to? She would show him there were consequences to his actions, as apparently he hadn't learned that in life.

Before she had really put any conscious thought to her actions, there was a butter knife in her hand. The blade was small and blunt, but she'd killed with less. Enough force and she could drive it straight through that damn spider's h- A hand was on her shoulder, gently but insistently pulling her back to her seat. Head snapping to the source, she saw Husk looking at her and giving a slight shake of his head.

Lute resisted for a second, breathing heavily, but like a rising and falling tide her anger swept away just as quickly as it came. Chagrined, Lute sank back into her seat, mumbling a small apology. The burst of killing intent had been sudden and sharp, but faded into embarrassment. She was disappointed at how easily she had slipped into old habits. Lute ought to have more self control, dealing with annoying Sinners or not. She glanced up at Vaggie, who didn't seem angry or annoyed, but her spear was resting against the side of the table where it hadn't been before. She really needed to figure out how Vaggie did that, she knew for a fact Vaggie's spear wasn't a relic that could be summoned at will. Angel, either unaware or uncaring about the threat on his life, just laughed. Husk released his grip on her shoulder with a small chuckle.

“Don't let him get to you. Calling someone French is just Italian for calling them an uptight ass.” Husk explained, going back to his own coffee. 

Lute just grumbled, finally releasing the butter knife and grimacing at how badly she had bent it in her grip. She made to see if it could be bent back to its proper shape, but Niffty snatched it up before she had the chance. The little Sinner marveled over the mangled metal, before scuttling off the table and around a corner, muttering something about her ‘collection’. Lute really didn't understand Niffty.

Cherri, who also saw the display, just shook her head and then took a long slurp of her coffee. She seemed at least partially awake now that the caffeine was working through her system. “I don't get how you function without coffee. Up at the ass crack of dawn and joggin’? Couldn't be me.”

“Might help if you went to bed before 2am.” Lute commented, getting a friendly middle finger in response. Lute continued, “besides, tea and juice are just as good as waking you up in the morning, without the awful aftertaste and crash.” Lute said, holding up her own glass of orange juice to make a point.

“Don't try that Lute. You only stick to tea and juice because you're banned from having soda.” Vaggie spoke up, smirking.

“It's by choice at this point, I haven't touched that swill in a century.” Lute huffed, of course she would bring that up.

“Oh no, I wanna know how Miss ‘Angels don't make mistakes’ got banned from drinking something as tame as soda.” Husk was taking an interest in Lute’s past failures, because of course he was.

“Shit shit, wait. You two are pretty old, right?” Cherri piped up, looking between Veggie and Lute. “Is this because Coke used ta have cocaine in it?”

Lute took a truly deep and heavy sigh, she could feel the smugness on Vaggie's face without needing to look. This truly was Hell. laying out her dirty secrets for the amusement of Sinners. Perhaps this was some form of long overdue punishment?

“The… effects of cocaine were not widely understood as harmful at the time a few mortals managed to recreate the drink in Heaven. Adam convinced me to try it and I found its effect… energizing. It's not like there was a lot of cocaine in the drink, you had to drink a lot to really feel it.” Lute attempted to explain, but Vaggie decided to cut in.

“Which is exactly what she did until she had a breakdown, rambling in 14th century French and trying to launch a solo invasion of Hell. Adam had to hold her down while Sera herself magically removed the toxins from her system.” Vaggie explained with a nostalgic tone.

“Hoooly shit, didn't think Lute knew how to party.” Cherri laughed.

“And you called me a crackwhore? Talk about the pot an’ the kettle!” Angel didn’t sound angry, rather amused at Lute’s past mistakes and current misfortune.

“... at the time I was very convinced I had a solid battle plan to defeat Lucifer… but yes, after that incident, the drink was banned from Heaven until the cocaine free version was invented.” Not that the new version tasted the same, unfortunately. Embarrassing to discuss as was, it was… a little funny when framed a certain way. Truth be told, Lute didn’t actually remember much of that experience, other than coming out of it with a crushing week-long headache. She would have sworn that she had briefly touched true genius and mental clarity. Her actions had made sense at the time, but she couldn’t recall any of her apparently genius battle plans. It had taken decades for Adam to stop bringing it up to poke fun at her. The others seemed to be laughing with her, so there was that.

“Having a laugh at our new guest’s expense? I always miss the fun.” Of course, he would show up to ruin an otherwise decent morning. Lute looked up to see the hidden panel in the wall open, revealing the connection from the dining hall to the kitchen. Out of it strolled Alastor, with him a series of plates being held aloft by his crackling dark magic. Lute was fairly sure he could have just used the service trolley that she knew was in the kitchen, but no, he needed to constantly show off his power all the time while doing the most mundane tasks. “Good Morning everyone! I do hope I haven’t kept you all waiting long. Charlie and I got rather wrapped up in conversation about preparations for the upcoming grand opening, I'm afraid we rather lost track of time.”

Alastor made a gesture, plates of food sliding into place in front of everyone. Alastor then took the seat at the head of the table, as he always went out of his way to do. Meanwhile, Charlie, the actual owner of the hotel and the person who probably should have been at the head of the table, strolled into the room from the hidden passage, cradling some sweet yogurt treat she had made for herself as she slipped into a chair next to Vaggie. Lute rolled her eyes, Alastor always acted like he was the one in charge, not Charlie. Lute had only very recently come to acknowledge the authority of Hell’s hierarchy in any fashion, and the Radio Demon’s bold disregard of it already made her furious.

Her mood only worsened when she looked at her plate. The omelet looked very good; perfectly cooked and folded, loaded with mushrooms, bacon, tomatoes and cheese, dusted with some chopped parsley. Even she would admit that the Radio Demon was a frustratingly good cook. The problem was he liked to find ways to subtly poke fun at her through food. Today’s thinly veiled insult came in the form of a chunk of pomegranate that was set on the side of her plate. Lute’s fingers twitched. Pomegranate, because she was trapped in the underworld. Funny. 

“Something wrong with your food, dear Songbird?” Alastor was looking at her with one of his trademark grins as he carefully cut into his own food with excellent table manners. He’d kept up with various bird related jokes and nicknames since she started becoming a more regular sight around the hotel. Lute tried to not let it bother her, unwilling to give him an inch.

“It's fine.” she did not need to start an argument at the table, not with the man who ripped her wings off… she wasn’t above minor insults though. Maintaining eye contact with Alastor, Lute salted the omelet before bothering to taste it, something she knew he took as a personal insult by the way his smile thinned fractionally. She was getting better at reading that grin of his. A slightly salty omelet was worth the sliver of personal satisfaction.

“Hmm.” Alastor returned to his own food, but he clearly wasn’t going to just let it slide. “Charlie, Vaggie, do remind me why exactly you think it's necessary to have someone in this ‘Security’ position? I am quite capable of handling most problems that arrive on our doorstep, besides, I have personally proven that this Ex-Exorcist’s abilities are somewhat lacking.”

Questioning her abilities? She’d show him once she got her arm back. She’d survived fighting him once, she was fairly sure she could pull it off again. Maybe take one of his antlers this time. Under the table, Husk kicked the side of Lute’s foot without looking away from his foot. A gentle reminder to not get too heated. Growling, Lute began cramming food into her mouth to get her mind off it.

“Don’t be mean Alastor. Lute has proven to be capable of dealing with most problems… at least now that she is making an effort to break away from old habits.” Charlie said, fiddling with her spoon a bit, clearly repressing a flashback in regard to some of Lute’s less than stellar behavior in the past. “Her job will be dealing with most of the stuff you wouldn’t want to bother with anyway. Arguments between guests and keeping people with ill-intentions away.”

“I still don’t see why you’d need her for the position, these are all rather easy problems to solve.”

“We’d rather Lute deal with the minor stuff because last I checked, she doesn’t eat people alive. We can save you getting your hands dirty for the big stuff and try to spare the Hotel’s reputation at least a little.” Vaggie could always be counted on to be direct, and she was one of the few that openly challenged Alastor from time to time. It was refreshing.

“Yeah, Alastor, I do appreciate what you’ve done to keep the hotel safe… but you can go a little… overboard.” Charlie, on the other hand, always made an effort to be nice and pick her words carefully. 

“Hmm, it still seems like there would be significant overlap.”  

“No no, the demon has a point.” Lute leaned forward, gesturing with her fork towards Alastor. She heard an annoyed groan from Husk as she ignored his warning about getting involved. “Miss Morningstar, I think it's important we figure out the details between Alastor’s duties and mine. I’d hate for us to butt heads over something like this” Lute felt a smirk crack onto her face as Alastor’s smile thinned again, eye twitching with barely contained rage over the reminder that he didn't exactly walk away unscathed from their fight. Lute was fairly sure the Radio Demon had killed for less, but she knew he wasn’t going to. He was entirely too invested in keeping the Princess on his good side.

“Eheh, guys, getting a bit of a tense vibe, maybe we can discuss this later?” Charlie said, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Apologies, ma’am. Alastor and I can discuss this at a later date.” Lute growled, keeping her eyes on the Radio Demon.

“A later date indeed...” Alastor and Lute held their glared for another few tense seconds. She wasn’t about to back down, the more she did so the worse he would get. Eventually, Alastor’s face relaxed and his grin widened as if he had thought of some great joke. In a surprising move, he broke eye contact first and shifted his gaze to look at the pile of Vaggie’s paperwork that she had been picking at since she sat down. “That does remind me, Vaggie dear, weren’t there some documents you needed me to sign off as Hotelier?”

“... Yes. You're not usually big on doing work at the table so I figured we’d talk about it after breakfast, but if you want to look at them now.” Vaggie was definitely giving Alastor the look that implied she knew he was up to something, but plucked a few pages from the stack and handed them over.

“I do have a radio broadcast to get to. Better deal with this now than risk ruining my reputation for punctuality.”

Alastor took the pages, straightened them, then seemed to take careful time reading through each one. An Overlord like him was likely to be a stickler about rules and details in any legal document. Lute was almost willing to believe he was choosing to actually focus on something productive, relaxing a fraction as she began to pick seeds out of the pomegranate. However, as she went to toss one in her mouth, Alastor made a small noise of affirmation that drew her attention back. Seemingly satisfied with the documents in his hand, he flicked his wrist and summoned a feather quill. Lute’s blood boiled immediately.

The quill was obviously new. A large pristine feather, white but for two distinct black lines. Lute instinctively knew it was one of her feathers .

The world went red and reason took a vacation as she was pushing her chair back and marching across the room, right towards that smiling prick. She was vaguely aware of Husk, Angel, and Cherri jumping up to try to hold her but she barely even registered their attempt. They were ants trying to stop the march of a giant. That grinning fuck had the sheer fucking audicity to not only reduce an angel’s wing into a novelty pen, but then use it in front of her?! She’d tear him limb from limb. She didn’t care. Missing limbs or not, she’d beat the fear of god into that awful arrogant asshole. 

Alastor's grin seemed wider than ever, he knew exactly what he’d done. He looked excited to have gotten a rise out of her, eyes turning to radio dials and antlers growing in size. Lute would make him regret playing such stupid fucking games. Charlie was saying something but Lute couldn’t hear it over the rising sound of radio static and distant screaming filling her ears as she closed in on Alastor. She only spared an ounce of attention towards Vaggie, who seemed to be under no inclination to help either Lute or Alastor, but was rather pushing the Princess back from a possible confrontation. That was for the best. If Lute had her way, there was going to be a splash zone . She’d fucking reach her fist down his throat and pull out his still beating-

“GOOD MORNING EVERYONEEEE!”

All eyes turned to see The Devil himself kicking open the doors to the dining hall, presenting him in true showman fashion with a flashing backlight and doves flying into the room. Real doves, not the twisted hellish crows that usually occupied hell. Well, they might have been real, they disappeared in a spark of light a moment later so it was hard to tell.

“Uh… Hi dad?” Charlie was the first to recover, being used to her father's antics and the least involved in the brewing brawl. 

“Charlie! And friends, whose names I definitely remember!” Lucifer greeted, fanged smile on full display. “I finished up with the crew working on one of the new buildings and figured I'd swing by! Been a few days and I don't want to get lost in my projects… again. Saw the small one out in the lobby. Nitty? Nibbles? Whatever, she was hunting rats when she told you guys were eating breakfast. Figured I'd pop in, say hi, snatch a snack. Also, now that I think about it, isn't it kinda weird we already have rats and cockroaches? Only built this place a few weeks ago, bit early to be infested. Hard to tell if those things are stubborn or this hill is cursed. Could be that…” Lucifer finally seemed to actually take notice of the situation he had walked into. Alastor partially transformed to his demonic state, Vaggie standing in front of Charlie with her spear out, Lute only a few steps from the Radio Demon with Husk, Angel, and Cherri all trying to hold her back. “... Am I uh… interrupting?”

“Well… yes, but probably for the best you did.” Charlie said, looking back and forth between Lute and Alastor, who’s attention had turned from each other to Lucifer.

“Great timing, yer majesty.” groaned Husk, letting go of Lute as she was no longer on a war path towards the Radio Demon. “You done pitching a fit?” he asked Lute, getting an inarticulate noise in response. Considering this good enough, he and the others went back to their seats. Crisis averted.

“Oh… Well, great! Always love to help!” Lucifer said, snapping his fingers. Suddenly, a very confused looking Alastor was standing in his place, with Lucifer sitting in the chair the Radio Demon had previously occupied. The King of Hell wasted no time in spearing a large chunk of Alastor's omelet and scarfing it down. “Mmm! That's fantastic, good work, Bellhop.”

“W-What just happened?” Alastor blinked several times as he registered the perspective shift. He was clearly having just as much trouble with the tone shift as Lute, the sudden stop in aggression leaving him struggling to catch up. Blinking, he then registered that Lucifer was in his seat and eating his food. It was actually impressive how many emotions the demon could convey through a smile, even if most of them were flavors of rage. After several seconds of growling, he plastered on an aggressively neutral expression, before storming off back to the kitchen to make himself another plate. Even the Radio Demon knew better than to directly challenge the King.

Lute, for her part, was stunned in the presence of Lucifer. She’d been in the hotel for over a week now, but this was the first time she had encountered Lucifer since the Extermination. The boiling wrath in her veins sputtered like a dying engine as Lute registered Lucifer’s presence. Over time, she had become familiar with the concept of being in Hell, or interacting with Sinners and the Princess. She wasn’t thrilled about it, but she was used to the idea. This was different. This was Lucifer. The Adversary. The Living Sin of Pride. The First Fallen Angel. Even if the man was small and seemingly rather goofy when interacting with his daughter, Lute remembered seeing him in action when he was protecting his daughter. A deep and primal fear snaked through her body like a river of ice flushing out any of wrath’s lingering heat. This was the Devil and she was in his hotel, at his mercy.

Lucifer swapping spots had meant that she was now awkwardly standing next to him, as she had been rounding on Alastor a moment before. He finally seemed to notice her, looking up at her with a raised eyebrow. Lute panicked, mind churning through variations of fight or flight and which might anger or insult the King. Finally, her brain defaulted to soldier mode,as that seemed the safest option. Snapping to attention, she gave the man a crisp salute.

“Good morning, King Morningstar, Sir!” She barked out, keeping a rigid posture and not daring to look the man in the eyes.

“Uh… hi? Very uh… formal?” He responded, looking confused. Oh no. Had she not addressed him correctly? Offending him might mean getting turned to ash. Soldier brain says apologize in advance.

“King Morningstar. I would like to personally apologize for all the harm I have committed against your people, family, and property. I subject myself to any punishment you deem necessary.” She dropped the salute, bending forward in an apologetic bow. He might be the Fallen One himself, but he had shown mercy before right? He'd let her and the Exorcists go after Adam's death after all… Though that was before Lute attacked the place again. Lute tried her best to keep from trembling as she awaited his judgment.

Lucifer was silent for several painfully long seconds. Lute didn't dare look at him. She imagined the sneer of disdain. The look as he contemplated some horrible punishment or demanded her soul in retribution.

“Uh… Char Char, am I supposed to know who this is?” He asked at last, sounding genuinely confused.

… Wait, what?

“Hoookay, should have expected this would happen.” Charlie spoke up, tapping Lute and gently pulling her to stand up from her bow. Lute saw that Lucifer just looked pleasantly confused, not furious or calculating as she expected. “Dad, this is Lute. She was uh… another former Exorcist. She did attack the hotel, well, twice but we've come to an understanding. She's committed to changing her ways and is going to be working for the Hotel soon.”

“Hrrrrm…. Lute. Lute? Don't think I know a Lute. I remember Lot, but that was a dude.” Lucifer said, tapping his fork against his lips in thought. 

“... You signed her banishment papers with Sera?” Charlie gently prompted her apparently very forgetful father. He still squinted as if in deep thought, but After a moment, he seemed to have an epiphany.

 “Oh! Lute as in Lieutenant! You're the little trouble maker that had Sera in such a snit last week!” snapping his fingers as he finally landed on the right answer.

Lute withered on the spot. Ah. Right. Lucifer had apparently been dealing with The High Seraphim at the time of Lute's assault on the Hotel. She distinctly remembered his curly signature on right next to Charlie’s and Sera’s on her writ. He would definitely remember her now, as she had been a threat to his daughter. She hadn’t exactly known what happened in the room between them but she was sure it was unpleasant.

"Ah… yes… your majesty, that was me. Sorry” Lute mumbled, still ganging her head, sure that finally the hammer would come down.

Lucifer boomed with laughter, he apparently found the whole thing quite funny. “Oh no, don't apologize! Well, apologize for ruining the lawn sure, but otherwise? I haven't seen Sera that frustrated in thousands of years! It was hilarious. As for everything else?” Lucifer gave a rather casual shrug and a grin. “I mean, sure I was a little upset when I thought something happened to Charlie, but when I found out she didn’t have a scratch on her I was more than happy to let her figure out your mess. Seems like she let you off light, you can’t be that much trouble.”

“... bwuh?” was Lute’s well articulated reply as the King of Hell just kept laughing. The perspective of the situation sank in for Lute. Her banishment had been the all important turning point of her existence, but for someone like Lucifer the whole affair might be generously described as ‘tuesday’. Lucifer chuckled, taking another bite of his stolen food as he kept talking, oblivious to Lute’s dumbfounded state.

“I mean, I’ll be honest, me of all people signing off on someone else’s banishment did feel a little icky… But you fucked around and found out. Trust me, I get it . You're hardly the first soon to be Fallen Angel and you probably won't be the last. After a few centuries, not every angel vibes with Heaven's strict management style, I've certainly been there. Wouldn't be fair if I held it against you, so let me just say: Welcome to the club, Kiddo.”

Lucifer held out his hand to shake in greeting. Lute just stared at it blankly. She was not sure how to feel about everything he just said. Lute knew many angels had fallen alongside Lucifer with his rebellion, but the way he worded it seemed to imply there had been quite a few between now and then. In Heaven, the Fallen were a taboo subject and most assumed that practically none had fallen from grace in thousands of years… Herself and Vaggie being very recent and rare exceptions. Now Lute wondered if there were any other recently Fallen Angels. Also, the comparison Lucifer made between his fall and her own wasn't exactly something that sat well on her stomach, but she at least had the sense he hadn't meant insult. Despite his fearsome power and reputation, the man seemed rather… chill? A bit goofy? Deceptively harmless. Lute was beginning to see where the Princess got her personality.

Nervously, cautiously, she reached out and gently shook his hand. She wished she hadn't. The moment their hands met, Lucifer's expression dropped from a smile to a concerned frown as his grip tightened before Lute could pull her hand away. Lucifer was staring at her rather intently, his eyes inverting their color to his more demonic nature.

“Now, how did that get in there?” He asked, but it seemed like he was talking to himself rather than Lute.

“Sir? How did wha-” Lute tried to ask, but Lucifer held up his free hand.

“Hold on, just need to check something.” He snapped his fingers, the sound seeming to be oddly resonant in the room. Lucifer… shifted? Like a skipped frame on a video, he seemed to suddenly be in a slightly different position than he was a moment ago, without actually having moved. Lute blinked rapidly, extremely confused at what just happened and more so at the wide grin on Lucifer's face as he gave her a solid handshake before finally letting her go. “Hah! I knew it! Bit of a gamble but a clever one.” he said, chuckling to himself.

What the fuck was wrong with this man?

“You did it again!” Charlie interrupted Lute's confusion, smacking a hand on the table and pointing at her father. She looked rather frustrated and confused herself. “That thing you did in the meeting! What was that?”

“You really are observant, kiddo. Doing your old man proud. I'll tell you when you get a bit better with your sorcery. Let's just say your new friend might have unintentionally helped deliver a little message. Nothing you kids need to worry about. Let's get back to breakfast, yeah?” Lucifer waved off Charlie’s concern and seemed to have no intention of answering further questions. Even compared to his earlier behavior, there seemed to be a new lightness in the man, as if some weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He sat there, pleased as punch, humming a pleasant little tune as he idly stroked the gold ring on his finger. Charlie grumbled something inarticulate before angrily shoveling more yogurt into her mouth.

A… message? Who would have sent a message to Lucifer? And how did they send it through Lute? And why did Lute taste sand?? She took a drink of her orange juice to wash away the memory of the taste. Wait. When did she sit down? Looking around frantically Lute found she was back in her seat next to Husk and Cherri. Hadn’t she just been shaking hands with Lucifer??

“W-What the Hell?” She managed, Husk reaching out to pat her on the back.

“Pretty much, shit gets weird when he starts throwing magic around.” He said, jerking a thumb at Lucifer as the King of Hell happily ate his stolen omelet. “You'll probably get used to it eventually.”

“So… gonna be honest, didn't keep up with mosta whatever that was. Any of it honestly.” Cherri said, gesturing between Lucifer and Lute before she turned her full attention to Lute. A smug grin came across her face as she lifted her large eyebrow. “Did he say that your name is actually Lieutenant?”

“Oh, like Vaggie’s name is technically Vagina?” Angel added, leaning in with his own smug grin.

“ Adam is really bad at naming things. ” Lute, Vaggie, and Lucifer all sighed in unison, before looking at each other in surprise. Clearing her voice, Lute continued to explain.

“While I know many of you don't know Adam for his better traits,” Lute ignored the many glares and stares she got from that, “even I will agree that Adam tended to make poor choices with naming things… for example the golden guitar that I… borrowed… despite being a powerful holy relic it doesn’t even have a name.”

“You're only so forgiving because your name actually can be passed off as a name. I’ll bet money that Emily is drowning in official name change requests from the other Excorcists.” Vaggie grumbled, and she perhaps had a right to be upset with Adam over her name. Lute still opted to keep her mouth shut in her own involvement in making sure Vaggie’s name was better than originally intended.

“Are they really that bad?” Charlie asked, looking confused. “I think Emily mentioned some Exorcists named Glory and Kitty? Those sound like okay names, if a bit uninspired.”

“Glory’s full name is Gloryhole.” Vaggie deadpanned.

“Kitty was actually a result of Sera’s direct intervention… Adam originally tried to name her Pussy.” Lute added.

“Fucking wow . You people gave this man authority?” Husk shook his head, struggling to keep from laughing. 

“You kids don't know the half of it. We gave him a menagerie of animals to name, seemed only fair because he was going to be living with them. You have no idea how thankful I am nobody speaks ancient Enochian anymore, some names are better left forgotten.” Lucifer chimed in, clearly annoyed. “Worse yet, that seemed to be one of the few traits of his that he spread down to you humans. For every decent name you mortals came up with like horse or turtle, you have a dozen stupid names. Tits, Asses, Cocks, Boobies, Dik Diks, Slippery Dicks, Blobfish, Boop Boops, Titmouse, Cockroach, Sperm Whale, Assfish. Some of my best work and you people called it a fucking Peacock! Don’t get me started on the other languages, English isn’t even the worst offender”

“Fuckin' wow. I kinda thought that the whole thing of him namin’ the animals was made up.” Cherri said

“Honestly, I probably woulda done worse, surprised they let him keep doin’ it tho. Probably for the best I never got into science an’ animals an’ shit. I coulda made up terrible animal names.” Angel laughed along.

“Sera definitely wasn't a fan of his naming choices, but it was God's idea to let him do it so she wasn't going to argue or openly complain.” Lucifer grumbled, stabbing at his plate with more force than necessary. “Wouldn’t have been that hard for me to name most of the animals I created then carve the names on a rock for humans to find later.”

“I mean, at least some animals got good names?” Charlie shrugged. “Zebra is a fun word”

“... Have I ever mentioned how fucking weird it is to hang out with all you Biblical figures?” Husk said, getting a good laugh out of everyone.

They went on in that fashion for a while, chatting about nothing in particular. Alastor eventually rejoined the table with a fresh omelet and this time he had the good manners to keep his trap primarily shut aside from the occasional comment. Thankfully there were no more incidents to set Lute off. All in all, it was rather surprising how… easily Lute could see this becoming a routine. Sure, it would always be a little strange, dining with the Devil or enduring the Radio Demon's ego, but it oddly felt like something that could just become kind of normal.

Angel’s fun buzzed on the table, drawing his attention. The spider demon frowned as he looked at the notification, cursing to himself. With reluctance, he drank down the rest of his coffee like a shot and shoveled the rest of his food down.

“Looks like I gotta get off at the studio. Cherri, youz still good to drive me?” Angel said, piling up his dishes on his plate to take it back to the kitchen.

“Oh yea, I oughta get back to my job too.” Cherri nodded, doing the same.

“Is having street fights over territory a job?” Vaggie asked with a smirk, getting a middle finger from Cherri.

“Gonna be a long day, I think. Gotta remind Val about me takin’ the day off for the opening. Knowing him, he probably forgot and he's gonna make it my damn problem. Probably won't make dinner.” Angel sighed, it seemed he wasn’t getting into how bad it was actually going to be. 

Lute frowned, popping a pomegranate seed in her mouth and chewing thoughtfully as she watched Angel get ready to go. Technically, his situation wasn’t her business… but at the same time, his safety was going to become her priority pretty soon. Back at the first trial, she hadn’t been paying that much attention to the whole display that Charlie had insisted on showing them. She had been very dismissive of Angel’s efforts to better himself at the time. Still, she remembered enough to have pieced together enough to know that this Valentino had some amount of claim on Angel’s soul, which was probably the main reason that Angel was still working this job that he clearly didn’t like. Her frown deepened, glancing around the table. She noted the concerned expression on the Princess’ face when Angel talked about his job, this was an ongoing issue, but Lute didn’t understand why it was a problem.

“... if this Valentino is such a pain to deal with… can’t we just kill him? Contracts are null if the contract holder is prematurely and permanently killed, correct?” Lute asked, being met with a lot of stares and a wide variety of expressions being turned her way. Clearly, this was something of a touchy topic, but it didn’t make sense why it would be an issue. “Is Valentino too powerful to kill or something? I’m fairly sure plenty of people at this table could take the average overlord.”

Several seconds of painfully awkward silence met Lute’s question and she just looked around the table, hoping for some kind of response that made sense. Eventually, Charlie managed to find her voice, if unable to look up from poking at her yogurt.

“W-well… it’s not that we don’t want to help Angel get out of his contract but… I- uh… Well, I told you I don’t really do that kinda confrontation? The attack at the hotel was probably like the only time I’ve ever been forced to fight and I wasn’t super a fan of it all.” Charlie explained, grimacing at the memory. “Just because I’ve got the power doesn’t mean I want to use it to force people to do things. Maybe that’s selfish, I dunno… I’m sure we can figure out some non-violent way to negotiate… Eventually, probably.” even Charlie didn’t sound entirely convinced of herself.

“Lute, I’ve talked to Charlie about this kind of thing, the Hotel doesn’t exist to be some kind of political force in Pentagram City. We help Sinners redeem themselves, not go out and pick fights on their behalf. We defend ourselves, but we don’t throw the first punch.” Vaggie patted Charlie on the shoulder. Lute could see that Vaggie at least understood where Lute was coming from, they were both literally designed to lead armies on the offense, but it seemed that Vaggie was intent on supporting the Princess’ pacifist ideals.

“Okay… I guess, but surely, The King could-” Lute began, but Lucifer cut her off by raising a hand.

“Nope. Look, I’d love to help out Charlie’s friends if I could but I can’t mess with contracts. When I established Pride, I bound myself by a few rules to at least ensure that Sinners had freedom down here if nothing else. I am king, but I don’t involve myself in their affairs much and I absolutely cannot do anything about contracts between Sinners. Would defeat the point of me giving them Free Will if I could just snap my fingers and break whatever contracts I please.” Lucifer explained with a shrug, a bit upset but not as closely involved as Charlie.

Lute couldn’t really argue that. Technically, Lucifer had even held himself back from fighting in the Extermination until the rule about harming Hellborn was broken. Feeling desperate, she looked to Alastor. The Radio Demon twirled his fork between his fingers for a second, looking from Angel then to Lute. his smile seemed a bit plastered on.

“Oh, I can kill Valentino. Easily. I would dare to call him above average among Overlords, but well beneath my power. Given the chance, I can crush him like the bug he is.” Alastor was good for that at least, the mad demon clearly didn’t care about rules, politics, or pacifism… though Lute was slightly concerned about him taking Angel’s contract from Valentino in ‘payment’. Out of the frying pan and into the fire in that case. Lute was unsure if it was worth it. Alastor continued, “Unfortunately, there is the issue of getting the chance. Valentino has formed something of a little alliance with two other Overlords of comparable skill. Velvette and that insufferable hack, Vox. Fighting one of them typically involves fighting all three of them. While my powers are indeed formidable, as you have personally experienced, even I cannot yet fight all three of them at once. Even killing him on his own would invite the wrath of the other two, which is something that our dear Charlie would rather avoid.”

Lute sat back in her chair, frowning. It seemed so simple. Go kill an Overlord, solve a problem. Yet the people that could do it were bound by rules, politics, or threat of force. Why did Angel have to get himself involved with one of the few Overlords in hell that bothered to make close alliances? If this Overlord was weaker than Alastor, Lute was fairly sure she could kill him once she was properly rearmed… but she’d soon be bound to the defensive ideals of the Hotel as well. She’d never cared about Angeldust, and still found him a little annoying, but knowing he was going to be her responsibility and being held back from solving a problem affecting him was frustrating as Hell. No matter what, she had always gone above and beyond to see to the needs and happiness of those under her responsibility, but it seemed that Sinners had more complicated problems than the average Exorcist. She clearly wasn’t the only one of that opinion. Cherri was looking off to the side, trying to play off her own emotions. Husk was angrily glaring into his coffee mug, Lute could faintly hear the ceramic cracking under his grip. Angel was the only one that seemed unbothered by it, or at least he was a decent actor.

“Hey hey, Guys, chill out. No need for everybody to look so dang mopey on my behalf. The contract really ain’t that bad and Val’s been backin’ off a bit since I told him off at the club.” Angel laughed, waving off everyone’s concerns. “Thanks for the concern an’ all, Tits, but Val is my problem. I’ll figure it out when I figure it out, simple as that. Now, the chat’s been great, but I really do need ta get going, come on Cherri.” His smile was painfully fake as he gave a jaunty little wave before turning and walking out with Cherri in tow.

The rest of the meal went on in relative silence. Lute had lost her appetite, pushing the last bit of omelet around her plate and trying to not overthink Angel’s situation. A month ago, she’d have said good riddance to bad rubbish and moved on. Sinners make deals, they live with the consequences… but the Hotel being her job changed things. Lute hated not being allowed to solve problems directly. She was tempted to just deal with it herself… but last time she broke the rules and went on a solo mission she ended up losing her wings and getting banished. She’d have to wait for this to play out at its own pace.

One by one, people made their way out of the dining hall to go about their day. Lute picked up her own dishes, took them back to the kitchen and cleaned up after herself. They really needed to get some kitchen staff if they expected this Hotel to host a large amount of guests, but for now everyone pitched in to clean up after meals. By the time she was done, she turned to leave the kitchen only to see someone waiting for her.

Vaggie leaned against the doorframe, watching Lute with an unreadable expression. 

“I think it's about time you and I sat down for a nice, long talk.”

Chapter Text

Waiting. More waiting.

Lute hated waiting. Patience was not a virtue she had been blessed with. Last time she had attempted it was to pull off her disastrous solo mission into Hell, so that was just a flat mark against the merits of patience.  

After Vaggie's request to finally have a sit down conversation, Lute had been led to Vaggie's office and left to sit there while Vaggie ran a last minute errand. Lute knew the tactic, it was one she herself had often used on Exorcists whenever she had to reprimand them for bad behavior. Simple but effective. When someone knows they're getting called in for a stressful meeting, you pull them into the office and make them wait alone for a few minutes. Just long enough for them to get a little lost in their thoughts and stress over the meeting to come. She supposed it was technically a good thing that Vaggie had learned that from her, but still wasn't a fan of the mind games in general.

And so, Lute sat in silence until Vaggie determined an arbitrary amount of time that was appropriate to let her stew. While she waited, Lute took in Vaggie’s office. There wasn’t a lot to see, the space didn’t feel particularly lived in but that was mostly due to the entire building only being over a month old (her fault). The stately wood furniture and comfortable chairs were much finer quality than Vaggie would pick herself, thus that was probably the work of the Morningstars and their seemingly bottomless pockets. A modern looking PC set up took most of the space, and Vaggie had a pair of flags sticking out of a coffee cup that said ‘Hell's Best Girlfriend’... likely a gift from the Princess. Lute wasn’t exactly up to date on the whole ‘flags’ thing as Adam had dismissed most of that as ‘modern woke nonsense’, so she never bothered to learn. She was pretty confident that the rainbow one was like the catchall pride flag, she’d seen that enough. Based on context clues, she had to assume the second flag in shades of orange, white, and pink meant Lesbian… Lute was pretty confident she’d never seen Vaggie express interest in men and her general disdain for Adam was widely known.

The main other attraction of the space, and the one that Lute took the most immediate interest in, was a large map of Pentagram city plastered over one wall. There were a series of markings and names drawn on top of the map in various colors, very few of which Lute recognized. One named building that caught her attention was ‘Carmine Industries’. Husk had mentioned a Carmilla Carmine as an Overlord who lorded over the sale of angelic weapons in Hell. so, this must be Vaggie’s attempt to keep track of known dangerous entities and their territories in the city. Lute felt a touch of nostalgia at the idea, Vaggie always was a tactician at heart, trying to make order out of chaos. It was only natural that she kept up such habits in Hell. If things worked out well, Lute would love to discuss the map and the factions of interest with her. It would be just like old times, when they plotted out troop movements for upcoming Exterminations.

Well, likely not quite like old times. There was the whole giant rift that Lute had cut between them and also the fact that they were supposed to be running a hotel, not plotting an invasive strike force. Things had changed, they were different people with different priorities. Vaggie especially had more important things in her life than fussing over maps with her, Lute thought as she took note of a scattering of colorful stickers that sat on the outskirts of the map. Judging by all the smiley faces and bright colors, they were likely additions by Charlie, tacked on everytime the Princess visited.

Last but not least, a small single painting hung on the opposite wall. It was a simple piece, a landscape with a view of the open sky. Not the skyline of the Ring of Pride, but Earth’s skyline. A yellow sun, blue sky, puffy white clouds, likely painted by some Sinner from memory. Looking at it made Lute’s chest ache almost as much as when she caught herself looking at the distant view of Heaven sat in the sky above Hell. That simple skyline was something she would likely never see again, neither would Vaggie… and it was all Lute’s fault that they were both trapped here.

No, nope, none of that. Lute released a puff of air, bringing her hand up to rub the bridge of her nose. She really needed to break this growing habit of overthinking things. Implication, ramification, confrontation, yada yada, it just made her feel shitty. What she needed to do was focus on the here and now. She was waiting on a meeting to decide her future, it could be easy if she made it easy. She just needed to get out of her own head and not let things slip. All she needed to do was just give Vaggie a good enough impression to imply she won’t massively fuck things up and ruin their lives again and destroy everything she got her hands on and… failed step 1, great job Lute. 

After a few more minutes of silent misery, the door finally clicked open. Lute glanced over her shoulder just in time to catch a glimpse of Charlie’s retreating form just as Vaggie swept in. Last minute planning between Vaggie and her princess most likely. Operating on instinct, Lute stood from her chair and did her best approximation of standing at attention she could manage with one arm and mild back pain. It was a compromise of sorts, technically the appropriate response for a superior entering a room in this situation would be attention and salute, but Charlie had been continually pushing for her to ease off the formalities… and saluting Vaggie still felt really weird, not exactly an easy hurdle to cross. Vaggie made her way to her desk, eyeing Lute the whole time. There was definitely an extended pause but at last Vaggie sat down first.

“At ease.” At the command, Lute’s posture relaxed and she eased herself into her chair. Vaggie was still watching her carefully, making silent judgements. Lute looked back, taking in just how much Vaggie had really changed. Sure, she hadn’t exactly been blind to anything, physically Vaggie almost looked like a different person. Long flowing silver hair, very different style of dress, eyepatch with a bright X pattern. More than just that, the changes to Vaggie were deeper. Where once Vaggie had been comparably meek and quiet as an Exorcist, she had matured considerably during her time in Hell and honestly she wore it well. Lute imagined that Hell thus far had the opposite effect on her. Lute was still wearing ill fitting borrowed clothes, had only barely been able to keep up her workout routine, and well there was the general air of depression that hung around her. Lute imagined she looked pretty terrible. If Vaggie had any disparaging comments about her expression, she kept them to herself.

“Sorry for the delay, wanted to make sure Alastor was focused on his broadcast before we talked. The man has a bad habit of spying on people and I felt this talk should stay between us as much as possible.” Vaggie sat back, pulling open a drawer from her desk and pulling out a thin folder. Lute saw her name on the folder as it was set on the table. Never a great sign for the trajectory of the conversation when someone pulls out a named folder.

“Of course, ma’am.” Lute responded, sitting straight in her chair and ignoring the urge to try to lean forward and read the contents of the folder as Vaggie opened it.

“Right… Let's not beat around the bush. We’ve both been avoiding this conversation, but we are running out of time. I need to make a final determination as to whether or not you’re going to be allowed to stay in the hotel and if you’re capable of handling the job of head of security. Any thoughts?” Vaggie began, tapping a sharp nail against the wooden desk, her eye glancing between the folder and Lute.

“... I think we both know I’m capable of doing the job.” Lute said, and it was true… It was also not the point of this conversation.

“True. I know exactly how capable you are at fighting things. It's about the only job you even qualify for.” Vaggie allowed herself a slight smirk, counting things off on her fingers. “Abysmal customer service skills, you only ever learned to cook one dish in two and half centuries, you can really only be trusted to keep your personal quarters clean and not much else, and you relied on me to do all the paperwork and scheduling.” Lute’s fist tightened as Vaggie counted off the gaps in her skillset. The other angel was clearly enjoying having the freedom to talk down to Lute without her being able to do anything about it. “Which leaves security. It's a job practically designed for someone like you, there is just one glaring issue, can you guess what that might be?”

“... If it's about the arm, I’m sure with some practice I can learn how to fight without it.” Lute said, gesturing at her rolled up sleeve.

“No, you fucking brick.” Vaggie sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Lute opened her mouth, but then shut it again. She would admit that on occasion, the finer points of sarcasm went over her head. “The issue, Lute, is that it is the position that requires the highest amount of trust . As head of security, you will not just be in charge of the safety of the hotel and its guests, but mine and Charlie’s security as well. I need to be able to trust your judgment when making decisions that affect everyone in the Hotel, be that as simple as breaking up a fight to as major as preparing the hotel against an invasion. Are you starting to see the possible issue?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“... you don’t trust me.” she knew it to be true, but it still hurt to say.

“You’re damn right I don’t trust you farther than I can throw you.” Vaggie growled. “I have no reason to trust you. Sure, even I can admit that since you’ve been down here, you’ve had some long overdue epiphanies, but that still doesn’t change the facts. You’re only considering this job because you disobeyed direct orders and committed half a dozen crimes to get fucking banished. You have personally assaulted the hotel and staff twice . You have been an active hindrance in Charlie’s attempts to make Heaven recognize the hotel and that’s not even touching on our personal issues.” 

Lute tensed, fingers twitching in a mix of aggravation and guilt. Everything Vaggie was saying was true, but would it be that hard for an ounce of sympathy? Lute hadn’t exactly had a pleasant time down here.

“I am trying , Vaggie. This… A lot has happened these last few months. Yes, I have… acted out, but I certainly got my fill of punishment for everything I’ve done, haven’t I?” Lute responded evenly, gesturing to the rolled up sleeve that hung in place of her left arm. 

“You have, and it's also probably the only reason we are having this conversation. I genuinely doubt any progress would have been made if you hadn’t been put through the wringer.” Vaggie said. Lute wanted to argue but she wasn’t sure she could. If none of this had happened… would she have ever changed? Best case scenario, she never ran her solo mission and stayed in Heaven, working under Emily and being quietly resentful of the whole situation until the end of time. If she hadn’t been cast down, would she have ever accepted that the ideals she used to live by were wrong? Vaggie didn’t let her dwell on it. “But, changes have happened. Hell is a lot to get used to, I would know it took me years to adjust.” Vaggie gave Lute a glare that made the other angel cringe at the reminder that literally, all of this was Lute’s fault. 

Vaggie glared at Lute for a few more painful seconds before her posture relaxed somewhat, leaning back in her chair. She glanced at the folder again, then back to Lute, looking tired.

“The real problem is, despite how little I trust you, that fact remains that you would still be good for the job. I can’t deny that. I know exactly what you’re capable of and honestly? You’re probably only going to get stronger. Having someone like you around to protect the hotel, to protect Charlie, when we piss someone dangerous off would be great… Plus, between us, I still trust you more than I trust Alastor. I’d want you on my side when that cabrón inevitably betrays us.”

“Good to know my first impression of the demon was accurate.” Lute said. It was kind of nice that at the bare minimum, Vaggie still believed in Lute’s abilities and could see her as a potential ally. It was just navigating the small ocean of issues between them to get to that point.

“Man is a ticking time bomb, but for now his endorsement of the hotel keeps Overlords at bay and he is actually kind of decent at helping me run the business side of this place. Charlie sees him as a long term project, I am less… hopeful. We are getting off topic.” Vaggie sighed. She slipped a page in the folder and grabbed a pen, jotting down something before dragging her finger down what seemed to be a bulleted list. “I am, believe it or not, trying to give you a fair shot at this. Answer some questions and be willing to listen to some critiques and this will go a lot smoother, okay?”

“That sounds acceptable.” Lute sat up a little straighter in her seat, trying to regain some composure. This shouldn't be too bad, she would get through this conversation and prove her worth.

“And remember, honesty is key.”

“... Of course, ma'am.” Lute frowned at the way Vaggie emphasized the word. Historically, conversations that started with someone pointing out Lute needed to be truthful didn't end up going well.

“Great. Let's start with a question.” Vaggie tapped her pen on the table, giving Lute a serious look. “Do you believe in Charlie's vision for the hotel?”

“I…” Lute hesitated. Vaggie was already throwing out the heavy questions. It would be easy to just say ‘yes’ and try to move on… but it wasn't entirely accurate. Vaggie had already pointed out Lute's shortcomings when it came to lying, so there would be no point in trying. Lute took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. “I have, quite aggressively, been shown that redemption is technically possible and many Sinners are not quite so deplorable as I was led to believe… but I must admit, I find The Princess' goal a little optimistic. The idea that Hell might one day be entirely empty of Sinners is unrealistic; however, I am starting to see that… some might be saved. Perhaps it is selfish, but doing what I can for the few that might be saved may ease my guilt over the many I've unknowingly condemned.”

“Acceptable answer.” Vaggie said without much emotion to it, making a few notes with her pen.

“If I may ask… Do you believe in her dream?” it wasn't that Lute wanted to cast doubt or anything on Vaggie's relationship with the Princess, but she had always known Vaggie to be grounded, a realist. Charlie’s lofty goals were admirable, but seemed a bit far fetched.

“I'm the one asking questions here.” Vaggie reminded her, but shifted to a more thoughtful expression. “But, it doesn't hurt to answer. Sure, Charlie's goals are a little… hopeful, and I was initially pretty hesitant, but I’ve seen the light. I believe in Charlie, I’ve seen her do amazing things and I think she can accomplish anything she puts her heart and soul into.” Vaggie had such a warm sense of fondness in her voice as she talked about the Princess. Similar, yet different to the dopey grin Charlie would get when she talked about Vaggie. The two really cared about each other… 

Huh, so that's what it looks like when the person you adore actually loves you back. First Lute had seen it.

“Alright, next a critique.” Vaggie said, keeping the meeting moving on at pace. Lute did her best to brace herself for criticism.”Your future position isn't exactly customer service related, but you do still represent the hotel, this you need to be cognizant of how you talk to people. Sinners are typically able to handle a lot in terms of verbal abuse, but as a former angel whatever you say is more likely to be used against you. It's unfair, but it's Hell. So just try to keep a lid on the negative commentary when you can and absolutely no more homophobic comments.”

Lute sighed, she had expected to hear something like that. Of course she'd have to watch her tongue. She could admit that before now she had been especially derogatory and such habits were difficult to bre- wait a minute.

“Homophobic? When have I ever been homophobic?” Lute felt genuinely confused. 

“Unlike you, I don't have a selective memory.” Vaggie rolled her eye before giving Lute a disdainful frown. “What was it you said? ‘Their love is blasphemous and vile’? Don't think I forgot that shit.”

“... Vaggie, I think you misunderstood me.”

“Your tone at the time was pretty clear.”

“Vaggie, I couldn't care less about you dating a woman. When I said that, I was more upset that you were dating a demon , more specifically the daughter of the Devil. Which is quite literally, the most blasphemous thing I could think of.” Lute explained. Sure, she could see now that Charlie was more worthy of a person than she originally expected but at the time her opinion on the woman had been rather low.

“... Oh.” Vaggie managed after a pause, looking like she hadn't thought of that interpretation until now.

“I can't see why you'd think I have a problem with that kind of thing. I knew plenty of the Exorcists were… intimate with each other. Could only be expected with an all female organization. Never considered it an issue unless it somehow interfered with work.” Lute shrugged. Even if the other Exorcists tried to hide it from her but they were never particularly good at it. If it made them happy, what was the harm? “Besides, it's not in my place to judge someone over that, my hypocrisy only goes so far.”

“... What do you mean by hypocrisy?” Vaggie stared at her with a very sudden intensity.

“Ah… w-well…” Lute flushed, feeling awkward. She had said too much. Speaking about bedroom affairs wasn't exactly polite conversation, but Vaggie was giving her the kind of look that demanded elaboration. “Well, obviously you know that while I was enamored with Adam, he was… unfortunately not so exclusive. It would happen every now and then that Adam would desire a… uhm… Ménage à trois and I would… often be a willing participant. So I have been intimate with women before since Adam liked to… watch. I mean, not my first choice but not an unpleasant experience by any means. Shit, forgive me, you probably don't want to know that many details about my sex life.” Lute hastily apologized, noting the shocked expression on Vaggie's face. The poor girl's jaw was practically hanging limp. 

“Uh… Right… Definitely not what I expected to hear today.” Vaggie managed numbly. Clearly she was disturbed by the idea of Lute's bedroom activities. Understandable, she hated Adam so anything that brought his involvement to mind was likely unpleasant. “Let's, uh, move on. Next question: are you going to be comfortable taking orders from us and can we trust you to fulfill said orders competently?”

Lute almost scoffed. An absurd question, surely thrown in for a laugh.

“Vaggie, this is hardly a question. I have always followed orders, even to my detriment. I can’t imagine why you’d even consider that I wouldn't-” Lute paused, noting the raised eyebrow that Vaggie was giving her. It was about that time that Lute suddenly recalled that her perfect record of loyalty and obedience was now not quite so perfect. Recent events had been something of a deviation from routine. “Ah… right. I suppose that is a more valid question than first thought. If I am to be honest, there will likely be something of an adjustment period for me in regards to comfortably taking orders from… demons. I will try to fulfill any tasks I am assigned competently… I can see myself taking orders from The Princess or you, but not Alastor. I cannot and will not trust the man, especially not after he tried to force me to make a deal with him.”

“That's acceptable, we can discuss where his authority as Hotelier interacts with your position, but for the most part you should be under me and Charlie.” nodding, Vaggie made a few notes on her list before tapping the pen several times, as if she was hesitant about the next point. After a few seconds, she sighed and looked up at Lute with an odd expression. “Next one is a critique… more of a concern really. Your temper is an issue.”

Her fist clenching at the mere suggestion was probably not going to be helpful for Lute disproving that statement. She had always been a little bit temperamental. A good soldier was always ready for conflict. It had never been that bad of an issue, not in a way that it interfered with her ability to do her job. Sure, post banishment there had been a handful of notable flare ups, but it wasn’t that bad.

“I have been, I think, understandably stressed recently. Emotions are bound to be a little volatile, it will pass.”

“Lute. You nearly started a fight over breakfast. Twice . If not for a Diabolus ex Machina, we might have had to pick you out of Alastor’s teeth.”

“ He started it. ” Lute snarled, hand clenching the arm of the chair. Vaggie was unphased by the flash of anger, probably because it proved her point. Lute took a second to forcibly relax. “I… do feel bad about nearly snapping at Angel Dust. I should not be so easily provoked by simple taunting. However, Alastor took it a step too fucking far.”

“I agree with you on that, in your shoes I might have had a similar reaction. That was entirely out of line and Charlie does intend to confront him about it. Still, the fact that he was able to have you in a blind rage that easily is concerning.”

“What, so I’m just not allowed to get angry at him and excuse his shitty behavior?” Lute growled.

“Not what I’m saying. Look, Alastor is an asshole and he is going to keep being an asshole. The only reason he’s so intent on fucking with you is because even though he beat you, you actually managed to hurt him and his ego can’t handle that. So just try to remember that any time he baits you, it's because on some level, you won and he’s being a bitch about it. If it gets really bad, discuss it with us. We cannot have you two fighting again.” Vaggie said sternly, but her face softened with a look of very genuine concern that seemed out of place. “It is very important that you don’t let your emotions control you down here.”

The way Vaggie emphasized this point felt odd, like she knew about something that Lute didn't. It was weirder still having Vaggie looking at her with concern rather than mild contempt. Lute couldn’t imagine why this was so important… but she supposed that her last fight caused a lot of damage and probably didn’t look very good for the hotel. If it was important to Vaggie that Lute keep a lid on her temper, then the least she could do was try. Still, she foresaw a lot of headaches related to a yellow toothed prick.

“Fine. Maybe I’ll look into meditation or something. I do need more hobbies. Is that satisfactory?”

“I hope so.” Vaggie sighed, but didn’t look relieved. After making a note in her folder, she closed it and neatly set the pin on top of it. There was a brief hope that this interview might already be over, but it faded quickly. The way that Vaggie was looking at her seemed to imply that it had only just begun. Vaggie glared at Lute For several seconds of painful silence, her shoulders tense with anticipation. It almost seemed more like Vaggie was gearing up for a fight rather than a talk.

“Lute… you and I could sit here and talk all day, but we aren’t going to get anywhere unless we address the elephant in the room. We can’t avoid it forever.”

Oh.

Lute knew this was coming. Vaggie was right, it wasn’t something they could ignore. That didn’t make Lute at all prepared for it though.

“I… suppose you are right.”

“Final question.” Vaggie’s expression went dark, her hands clenched into fists as the veil hiding a deep and terrible anger finally slipped away. It was clear that Vaggie was even better at repressing her emotions than Lute was, and now that she wasn’t trying to, Lute could practically taste Vaggie’s anger and pain. “Do you regret what you did to me?”

“Vaggie…” searching for words in this particular situation was not exactly easy. Even with all the time she had had to think about the possibility of this conversation, Lute had never actually managed to find some magic combination that would set things right again. Life wasn’t nearly so kind as to offer convenient solutions to her of all people. “That’s not a fair-” she tried but was cut off immediately.

“A fair what? A fair question?” Vaggie hissed. “Newsflash asshole, it's Hell. nothing’s fair. That’s the point. I would know. ”

“... of course I regretted it, Vaggie.” Lute sighed.

“Regretted that you did it or regretted that your precious rules made you do it?” The contempt in Vaggie’s gaze was unwavering, making that miserable pit of guilt in Lute’s stomach churn.

“Can’t it be both?”

“No. because one involves taking responsibility for your fucking actions, bitch.”

Ouch. 

“I… it's not that simpl- er… I mean… look. What I did to you, looking back after everything I’ve seen and experienced. It was wrong. Worse than wrong. I see that now , but back then- I didn’t… I didn’t know what to think.” Lute attempted to articulate, but her emotions had never been something that she was good at unpacking. She felt even worse at it now than she had been before. Judging from Vaggie’s deepening scowl, she wasn’t getting her thoughts across well. 

“So what? You just shrugged and moved on? Promoted someone else to my position and just forgot about me!?” Vaggie was clearly struggling to contain her anger. Lute wanted desperately for a repeat of the situation with Razzle, letting Vaggie beat on her to vent her frustration would be so much easier, but she knew that wasn’t what Vaggie wanted or needed. This had to actually be talked out. Knowing that didn’t make the anger and betrayal in Vaggie’s eyes any easier to stomach though.

“Vaggie, I never replaced you.” Lute said with an honesty that took Vaggie off guard. The other woman blinked a few times, surprised, but the scowl came back moments later.

“Bullshit. I heard from Emily that the Exorcists elected Glory to take your position shortly after they got back to Heaven. The only way they would have agreed on someone as young as Glory would be if she had your endorsement. I’m not a fucking idiot, Lute.” 

Ah. That was good news at least. Lute was glad that particular aspect of her plan had panned out. Vaggie was partially right, Glory was one of the youngest Exorcists at about 70 or so years old, but the girl had her merits. Lute desperately wanted more updates about the Exorcists, to make sure they were still okay and didn’t get blamed for Lute’s stunt… but now wasn’t the time for that conversation. 

“Glory was not your replacement, she never took your position as my second. I started working more closely with Glory, Kitty, and a few of the other captains because I gave them more authority on running their flight groups with less direct oversight… because I couldn’t keep up with running the Exorcists by myself. You said it earlier, I was entirely dependent on you for any kind of organization and management. Fighting, training, and discipline I can do but you know I can’t write a schedule for shit, my assault plans are shit, and equipment requisition forms are a nightmare. After a year or two, the captains were more or less running the flights by themselves, maybe not as well organized as you could have had it but it mostly worked.” Lute admitted, not enjoying fessing up to her own inadequacies. The first year had been an utter nightmare for her, with her working double and triple time to try to manage things by herself and still fucking it all up. “As for Glory getting my endorsement, well, you remember her. More of a people person, decently put together, not too extreme… She fit the new direction that Emily was proposing for the Exorcists and I figured she’d do a decent job taking care of everyone. The other captains agreed, simple as that.”

“If you were having that much trouble keeping things afloat, why didn’t you and Adam just make another Exorcist to do my job?” Vaggie asked as her anger settled onto something a little more contemplative, but still suspicious.

“... Adam wanted to.” Lute looked away from Vaggie, suddenly finding the far wall very interesting. This was getting into the territory of things that Lute had struggled to admit to even herself. Still, against her own wishes she pushed on. “I… well… kept putting it off. Anytime he’d bring it up, I’d bump it down the list of priorities or ‘forget’ to request the blessed clay from the High Seraphim or find some other excuse. Eventually, Adam stopped asking and I didn’t attempt to remind him.”

“Why?” 

“Because… It didn’t feel, I don’t know, right? I mean, at first, I told myself that it would just be too much effort to train someone for your position. Honestly, it's not like I could explain the filing and organization systems that you made up… but I also… still hoped I could get you back.” sighing, she finally looked back at Vaggie. The look of doubt there was not a surprise. Vaggie’s mood was only going to get worse by the end of this. “Every time I led an Extermination, I did look for you… silly fucking me for not checking the creepy hotel on the hill, but hindsight is a bitch. Even after everything that happened, I thought that if I could just find you, then I could fix things.”

“Fix things?” Vaggie asked skeptically. “How exactly would you ‘fix things’?”

“I hoped that if I found you in Hell and you were willing to apologize- I know how that sounds. ” Lute added quickly, holding up her hand to stem the angry tirade that wanted to erupt from Vaggie’s mouth at the very idea of Vaggie having to apologize over what happened. “I hear how stupid that is now but that was my thought process. The hope was that if I could bring you to Adam and make you apologize, show that you had stayed uncorrupted, then maybe he would be willing to end your banishment. He’s always talking about ‘an eye for an eye’, maybe he’d consider a year or two in Hell as appropriate punishment and I’d get to bring you back. Then, you wouldn’t need to be replaced. The Seraphim probably could have healed your injuries or even if they couldn’t, most of your duties were desk work. You didn’t even like Exterminations, it’d be fine. All that mattered was that things could go back to normal.”

“... We left normal behind when you cut out my goddamn eye.” Vaggie replied darkly. 

“I… see that now.” Whether Lute liked it or not, the normal of the life she had led for two and a half centuries was long gone and she killed it. Hell was the new normal with Sinners she wasn’t supposed to kill, a devil Princess she owed her life to, and her former subordinate as he soon to be boss. She gave a half hearted chuckle. “But back then… Well, you’ve seen how well I can hold onto a delusion. I-i… I don’t know if I’ve ever even questioned any order other than that one in my life. Telling myself over and over that I did what I was supposed to do never made me stop thinking about it. It couldn’t have been the wrong thing to do. I couldn’t have made a mistake because-”

“Angels don’t make mistakes.” Vaggie cut in in a mocking tone. Lute just gave a tired shrug.

“So, I just kept looking and hoping that I could fix this little error, make the questions go away. Years passed, and I still couldn’t find you. Started losing hope, but still didn’t give any thought to replacing you. It’s not some grand admission that I cried myself to sleep over it or spent years hating myself the way I do now. I just… wasn’t capable of accepting the reality of what I did, figured it was something easy to set right… but I did still regret it. I did want you back, Vaggie.” Lute tried to put all the sincerity she could into the words, but she knew it wasn’t landing. It wasn’t enough, it was barely even admission of guilt. If anything, it made her sound worse.

“You know… for someone who claims they still hoped they could find me and set things right, your actions when we did meet back up don’t really support that. Trying to ruin my relationship with Charlie, discrediting the hotel, assaulting the hotel, trying to fucking kill me ? How did that sit with your fucked up little brain if you supposedly missed me?” a very good question. Not one Lute was looking forward to answering.

“I mean it when I say I wanted you back, Vaggie… but I expected to find you in Hell. maybe hiding, or at some demon’s mercy, or maybe even standing victorious over a pile of corpses. You being in Hell made sense. You broke the rules, you were punished, you went to Hell. That’s how it was supposed to work, that's what made sense, that’s what I thought I could fix… but that isn’t what happened.” Lute felt an uncomfortable lump in her throat at the memory of the shock and confusion she had felt when she encountered Vaggie again. “Instead, you showed up in Heaven . It didn’t make any sense. You were supposed to be punished for defying the will of Heaven, cast down for your crime and- and then you just appear walking around Heaven like nothing happened, hand in hand with some beautiful princess, and looking happier than I’d ever seen you? It felt like I was hallucinating. I thought I was until Adam spoke up. It was like God was rewarding you when you were supposed to be punished!... It was the first time the thought entered my head that… that I had done the wrong thing.”

“... and you couldn’t handle that.” Vaggie was starting to put the pieces together, she really did know Lute too well.

“N-no… wasn’t ready for that kind of thought. It was heretical. The idea that you did the right thing and I did the wrong thing, couldn’t fathom it. It opened too many questions about Heaven and Exterminations and everything I understood. My mind scrambled to find a solution and I settled on blaming Charlie. She was a Demon, she had to be controlling you or something, everything was part of her ruse… I had to try to do something to bury my own questions and prove it was all fake… You’re going to get mad at this next part.” Lute warned, grimacing.

“I already am, Lute, but let's see how deep you can dig that hole.” 

“Trying to blackmail you into working against Charlie during the trial was… my… idea.” Lute muttered weakly.

“ What?” The fine wood surface of Vaggie's desk gained a new set of deep scars as her sharp fingernails cut into the wood. Vaggie’s eye seemed to glow with fury and Lute could swear the red tips of her hair ribbon were curling into horns.

“I thought I could salvage the situation. Underhanded solution, but I thought it would work. Remind you of who you were, what side you were supposed to be on, snap you out of whatever magical control you might have been under. If you did what Adam asked then not only would it prove the whole Sinner redemption nonsense to be a sham, but Adam might be willing to forgive you for helping him out. It would prove that whatever happiness you found in Hell was a lie and my world would make sense again… it was stupid.”

“Thats a fucking understatement. Meirda , I expect that kind of selfish, backwards ass logic from Adam but you? Even at my lowest opinion of you, I expected better than fucking that.” Snarling, Vaggie glared at Lute before turning her frown to the damage she’d done to her new desk. She mumbled a curse under her breath before looking at Lute with utter disdain. “I’m guessing shit only got worse in that fucked up head of yours after that.”

She wasn’t sure how to take knowing that she’d sunk Vaggie’s opinion of her to a new low. Lute wasn’t exactly proud of her actions but the truth was often an ugly, ugly thing.

“Yes… you didn’t comply, so I doubled down. Revealing your identity to the Princess was supposed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back, but that ended up being a temporary set back at worst so I tripled down. Deeper and deeper into the delusion until getting rid of you, the Princess, and the hotel was the only thing that made sense. The only thing that could stop the growing questions in the back of my mind. I couldn’t bear to think that the world I knew was wrong, that you giving mercy might have been right, that casting you down was wrong, that Angel Dust or any other Sinner could change, that… that Heaven might be a lie.” The thoughts and words felt like hot bile crawling up her throat, even after everything she’d experienced. 

She was at war with herself still. Part of her still prayed that she would just wake up back in her stiff bunk in the Exorcist barracks and be able to pass it off as just some wild dream she never had to think of again. The other part of her recoiled at the idea of living a lie, felt a need to take responsibility for her actions and desperately, desperately wanted to have Vaggie back in her life. She hadn’t lied or exaggerated any part of what she said, she wanted her friend back so goddamn much… but wanting that meant taking responsibility for the despicable things she’d done and trying to apologize for the inexcusable. Lute had to try though. She forced herself to meet Vaggie’s eye, to acknowledge the pain and anger there.

“Vaggie. I know it’s sad and pathetic that it literally took me getting cast down and tortured by a madman to make me see the light… but I’m almost glad it happened. I needed to know the truth, to see that I was wrong. What happened to you, what I did and said… it should have never happened. Just saying sorry doesn’t address the depth of how my actions hurt you, but I am sorry. I am so goddamn sorry and I should have told you that months- no, years ago. You didn’t deserve any of it. You didn’t deserve to be punished for being smart enough to see what I was too dumb and stubborn to accept. I hurt you and left you alone in fucking Hell and at every chance that came up to try to change direction, I just doubled down and hurt you more. You were my best friend and I ruined your life.” Lute’s voice quavered as she struggled to speak under the weight of her own miserable guilt. Guilt that had been hiding in the back of her mind for years now and just waiting for a chance to take over. Deep down, a part of her had always known what she did to Vaggie was monstrous, but she’d never been able to reconcile that with her understanding of the infallibility of Heaven. The seed of the idea had only festered in the back of her skull, making the subtle start of cracks that would one day tear down the foundation of her reality.. And yet, no matter how bad she felt, Vaggie must have felt worse. Betrayed and abandoned, forced to face all the same world altering revelations Lute had without anyone to guide her through it, hiding her identity out of fear for years. Lute couldn’t imagine that kind of suffering but she needed to start trying to make it up to Vaggie. “I… I want to make it right. Not ‘fix’ everything like I thought I could before, but to try to repair the damage I’ve done. That’s part of why I took Charlie’s offer, not just to pay back what I owe to her or to do better by the Sinners, but to do better by you as well. I can’t change the past and you don’t have to forgive me… but I’m just asking for a chance to have you in my life again, so I can make things better. Please.”

As Lute’s speech came to an end, Vaggie just continued watching her in silence. The woman had gotten a lot better about playing her cards close to the chest, but she struggled now. The anger and pain were still there, plain as day… but there was a flicker of something else. Something softer. A small part of Lute hoped that Vaggie might consider forgiving her, letting Lute repent for the horrible things she’d done… but Vaggie just closed her eye and took a very long, very deep breath. She looked tired, so tired, like she wanted nothing more than for this to be over.

“Lute, I don’t know if I can forgive you. If this had happened any other way, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. If you’d come down from Heaven with an apology or anything like that, I’d have told you to get fucked. Taking my eye, my wings, leaving me down here? You can’t imagine what that was like. I am so, so fucking lucky that Charlie found me. If it had been literally anyone else, I would be dead, enslaved or worse… and I’d have gone to that fate knowing the person I trusted most sent me to it. Its only because you got cast out and mutilated that I know you understand even a bit of how badly you fucked me up, that I can believe you’re trying to be genuine. You’ve changed, I can’t pretend you haven’t… but letting you back into my life, trusting you after everything you’ve done? It's not that easy.” Vaggie explained. Lute’s heart sank in her chest. She’d known this wouldn’t be easy, but a tiny part of her had at least hoped… Vaggie kept speaking, but if Lute thought the situation looked bleak before now, it could get worse. “You haven’t made this an easy decision. Hearing what’s gone through your head since what happened back then has been…. Not pleasant, but informative… but I need more. I want to hear everything. Take me though that day.”

Lute’s jaw felt a little slack. She wanted to hear Lute’s perspective? That… that didn’t sound like a good idea.

“Vaggie, are you sure? You… aren’t going to like what you hear.” she warned.

“Doesn’t matter. I deserve to hear it. Either you tell me, or this meeting is over.”

“... If you insist.” Lute sighed, closing her eyes as she began to recall that day. It was unfortunately never far from her mind, eager and waiting like some well trained dog. “The Extermination was almost over, I was-”

—

Exterminations were the one day a year that Lute was allowed to cut loose. No stuff posturing or trying to look respectable, just freedom, flight, and doing what she was made for. Putting the fear of Heaven into the wicked and the damned.

She adored the thrill of violence, the rush of adrenaline, and the sting of well exercised muscles. Actual combat was so different from practice and drills. Much more exciting… most of the time. In a sparring match with Vaggie, Lute might actually be rewarded with an occasional bruise or something for her efforts. Not so on the field of battle. The damned didn't have the right to harm the holy. Lute wasn't going to get so much as a broken nail unless she decided to fly face first into a building.

Angling her wings, she caught a draft of hot air and ascended to get a better view of the battlefield. As much as Lute might love her work, she was still in charge and needed to be mindful of how her soldiers were performing. 

As expected, the Ring of Pride was in chaos, but an organized chaos. Sinners panicked and scrambled in the streets while organized flights of Exorcists hunted them down, the city was aglow with flames under a crimson sky, and even up here she could hear the screaming. Setting fires around the city was not strictly a necessary element of Extermination as the flames could not kill Sinners, but rather it helped to make them panic. A few strategically placed fires scared the rats from their shelters, making them act erratic as they tried in vain to flee or stem the spread. Much easier to slaughter that way. It had been a marvelous idea, after all, everything they were burning was Sinner trash, no problem, so long as the flames stayed away from the Heaven Embassy… and The Morningstar Mansion. Perhaps Lute might get lucky and an errant wind would send enough burning trash along to light that fortress of sin ablaze.

One can only hope. 

The Exorcists flights were spread across the city, nearly organized by Vaggie to target the densest population centers and adjusted yearly to prevent the Sinners from planning around it. Lute was immensely proud of the work being done. The sacred duty of the Exorcist, enjoyable as it might be, was essential to keeping the rising population of Hell under control and more importantly, under Heaven's boot. They needed to use every trick at their disposal to cull the herd.

Speaking of which. Lute's sharp eyes spotted a group of Sinners practically crawling over each other as they shoved and pushed to try to take shelter in a building. A smile cracked onto her face. Clever plans and well organized assaults certainly had their place, but there would always be room for good old fashioned slaughter.

Wings closed, the Exorcist fell from the sky like a holy missile. Perfectly aimed, she crashed into the building through a window, making all the cowering Sinners inside scream in horror and pain as light and broken glass assaulted them. 

Like setting fires, brutality was not a strictly necessary element of Exterminations… but Adam had always been quick to praise Lute for it, so why not enjoy her work?

“Trying to hide from Heaven's light, filth?’ she laughed as she dove into the fearful crowd. Her golden blade danced and sang in her arms, repainting the room in shades of deep red. By her strength, the damned crumbled as easily as soggy cardboard. Their refuge had become a killing field they didn't get the chance to escape. Some tried to fight back, but it was wasted effort. Bullets barely tickled, blades broke against her uniform, and even the strongest strike amounted to little more than a gentle tap. 

After only a minute, the shelter had gone deathly quiet, leaving lute standing alone in a blood and gore soaked box. The thrill of violence fled just as quickly as it came, elusive little bastard. Lute had been hoping for… more. More of what, she wasn't sure. More Sinners to kill, more of the thrill, more of a challenge? She blew out an annoyed breath as she glared around the quiet room. In the quiet solitude, Lute would allow herself a moment of honesty.

It had been happening more and more often…. This… dissatisfaction. Killing Sinners was a sacred task and one she enjoyed but it was becoming far too easy. It felt unsatisfying, a temporary high. Like eating Adam's junk food rather than anything substantial. In the past, at least, there had been Overlords. While equally incapable of causing any actual harm, they were at least challenging opponents. Durable and usually clever enough to make the fight last more than a few minutes… unfortunately, the last Overlord Lute had even seen was that fucking flying Gambler that gave Lute the run around nearly twenty years ago. Cowardly fucking creatures had stuck their heads underground and not surfaced since. As much as she desired to scour Pentagram City for more worthy prey, Vaggie had ultimately reminded her that the focus of Extermination should be on quantity over quality to which she reluctantly agreed. Shame.

Dwelling on her personal dissatisfaction was yet more wasted time. Extermination would nearly be over and she needed to cram in what she could before Adam called the retreat. Utterly calm, she exited the building and pulled the door shut behind her. The mess she left inside would be a nice surprise for someone to stumble upon later.

A sharp whistle drew her eyes up the the rooftops, where she saw the familiar figure of Adam perched on the edge of a nearby roof, giving her a jaunty wave. What a good commander, keeping eyes on his troops during their sacred task. Sure, it was rather rare that he participated directly but Lute imagined that if she struggled with feels of dissatisfaction with killing Sinners, it must be far worse for him. Nothing below Heaven could honestly hold a candle to his might.

A few quick flaps had her ascending the building to gracefully land on the parapet next to where he was sitting, giving a sharp salute before he gestured for her to relax.

“Heya Danger Tits, looks like you’ve been busy.” he chuckled, the golden eyes of his mask flicking up and down her frame to take in her blood soaked uniform. 

“Simply doing my duty, sir. Cleaning up the streets, as it were.”

“That so? How’s your numbers this year?” Adam asked, turning back to look at the carnage below with only mild interest. Without even a gesture, his golden guitar flashed into life and he began to casually pluck at the strings. On some of his more energetic days, he would serenade the Exorcists throughout the Extermination. Those were always Lute’s favorite Exterminations where she felt extra motivated, unfortunately this had not been the case today. He’d been too focused on ironing out the details of his newest song to really put too much thought towards the day’s events.

“If I am counting that last building’s worth, then I would say I am sitting at 253, sir.” Lute answered, getting an impressed whistle from Adam as he paused his strumming.

“Daaaamn, good stuff. That’s gotta be a personal record right?” Adam asked, flashing her a grin. Lute tried not to preen too much at the praise. It was pretty impressive, every year she made solid improvements and this year had been particularly fruitful. It felt good to have her talents recognized. Adam chuckled, turning back to watch the burning city below him. “Keep it up Lute and you’ll finally break the official record in a few more years.”

Lute huffed, hiding a frown at the reminder. The record for Sinners killed in an Extermination still sat just slightly out of her reach at 270. The record had sat untouched for Lute’s entire lifespan, established by her predecessor the ever mysterious ‘Commander’ also interchangeably known by Adam as Commando, Commie, or Cammie or the rare occasion she was mentioned. She had worked under Adam as one of his first Exorcists before her sudden retirement a little over two and a half centuries ago, which had prompted Adam to take the title of Commander of the Exorcists himself and create Lute to lead the army. The woman was a confusing mystery, anyone retiring from the Exorcists was strange. It was  allowed but Lute couldn’t understand why anyone would bother, they were made to be Exorcists, why try to leave that and become anything else? Seemed like a waste of time. It didn’t matter, at her current rate of improvement, Lute could probably finally get rid of that record soon enough.

“Hey Lute, need a second opinion before you fly back out.” Adam’s fingers went back over the chord progression for the dozenth time, leading to him making a sour face. “Been working on this song for like, two fucking weeks and it just doesn’t sound right. I know this genius brain is onto something but it won’t click. You got any thoughts?”

“It’s fine, sir.” Lute answered automatically.

“Lute, when I ask your opinion, I actually want an opinion. ‘Yes and’ing is nice and all, but not always super helpful.” rolling his eyes, he went back over the notes. Lute wasn’t exactly an expert on musical theory or anything, she’d never dedicated herself to the study of it in the way Adam had throughout human history… still, she knew enough, she learned to play from him and listened to all the things he did, mostly as an excuse to spend time with him but the information stuck. If he really wanted an opinion…

“It starts off too fast, sir. I think it would sound better if it were a bit slower.”

“... slower? Really? Not usually my style.” Adam hummed skeptically.

“Just the intro. Start off slow and build up before it gets heavy. The anticipation sells it, good things come to those who wait.” Lute said, and she hoped it was true. While patience wasn’t really her thing, she had been waiting for a very long time for one particular thing and was hoping it would be worth it if she ever got it. She tried not to look at him directly when those thoughts entered her mind. Not the kind of thing she should be saying out loud.

While her gaze was turned away, she was faintly aware of Adam starting to experiment with a slower version of the intro, but her attention rapidly focused on something else. 

She caught sight of Vaggie bringing down a Sinner just a ways down the street, a quick and clean take down in the style she usually preferred. After her landing, the younger Exorcist yanked off her helmet and shook her hair out as she scanned around for new targets, currently unaware that Lute and Adam were just a rooftop away. Taking off a helmet during Extermination wasn’t against the rules but it wasn’t common practice. The mask had a filter that made the awful air of Hell slightly more palatable… but Vaggie had mentioned that her visor had been a bit spotty after the helmet had taken an unfortunate fall off the side of her desk. That was probably why she removed it.

Lute was tempted to leave Adam to his musical musing and drop down alongside Vaggie to get a few more kills in really quickly but as she stepped forward to fly off, Lute paused. Vaggie chased a small Sinner down a short alley, Cannibal by the looks of the missing eyes and pale skin… but they were unusually short. A dwarf, maybe? Was that… a child? … no, surely not, she doubted there would be children in Hell. worse though, it seemed that vaggie must have gotten stuck on the same thought Lute had. She was just… standing there, not striking. Why wasn’t she-

“Uh oh, looks like Vaggie’s about to fuck up pretty bad.” Adam’s voice nearly made Lute jump out of her skin, why did she suddenly feel so tense? What did Adam mean by fuck up? He wasn’t suggesting that Vaggie might… spare a Sinner? Lute looked again, Vaggie still hadn’t moved but even from here Lute could see a growing tenseness in the Exorcist’s shoulders. Hesitation. “Shame. You should probably handle that, you know the rules.” Adam said dismissively. Lute glanced at him, unsure, but obediently she took flight and silently glided down towards Vaggie and the cornered Sinner.

Vaggie was so focused on the Sinner in front of her, she didn’t notice the slight ruffle of feathers as Lute descended behind her. That Sinner really did look like a child… but that didn’t matter, Sinners took all kinds of forms, this was probably just a disguise to trick people. Vaggie wasn’t that dumb, she’d see through it and spear the rotten creature… why hadn’t she speared the thing yet? Should… should Lute interfere? She could just… say something, snap Vaggie out of whatever daze she seemed to be in. Just as Lute opened her mouth to try to do something, Vaggie spoke first. 

Just a whisper, barely loud enough to hear had Lute not been standing right behind her. Three words sealed Vaggie’s fate.

“ Go, run. Now. ”

Fuck.

Fuck. 

Lute was stunned to silence for a heartbeat as the Sinner did as they were told and scrambled away. Vaggie just spared a Sinner. That… was one of the highest rules of the Exorcist order, to never give mercy to the damned. Vaggie knew that. So why? Vaggie was smarter than that, wasn’t she? This wasn’t just some random mistake, angels don’t make mistakes… Vaggie was… a traitor.

Lute was stepping forward before she fully registered what she was doing. Seeing Lute’s approaching shadow, Vaggie yelped, dropping her weapon in surprise as she whirled around. The look of surprise, guilt and fear across her face was clear. Vaggie knew what she had done. She knew the consequences that were about to happen. She knew that she’d been caught. Lute snatched Vaggie’s wrist, cutting off any chance for the women to run, meeting her eye to eye. In a moment that felt like a thousand, Lute remembered the first time she had seen those eyes open. So wide and innocent, now they were full of terrible dread. 

The handle of Lute’s sword creaked ominous under her supernaturally powerful grip. The punishment for traitors was clear. They were to be cast down and banished from returning to heaven… but this was Vaggie. Her right hand, her best friend. A flicker of hesitation passed, only to be summarily crushed. Rules were rules, there was to be no hesitation in punishment of the enemy. This was the way it had to be. To indulge in giving mercy to the damned would lead to questioning the order of Heaven, which meant falling from grace. No. Lute was stalwart in her duty, she did what must be done.

Yet even as she told herself this, something small and fragile died inside Lute’s heart as she swung her sword.

An arc of golden blood and a gut wrenching scream of pain and betrayal would haunt Lute for years to come.

Any emotion, any questions were locked away and buried as Vaggie dropped to the ground, gasping with pain and clutching the golden crater where her left eye had been. The pink and gold orb rolled across the ground until Lute speared it in place with her blade. This was the punishment for disobeying orders. An eye for an eye, as Adam always reminded them.

“Sinful filth like you has no place in Heaven.” Lute growled, stomping a boot down onto Vaggie’s back. It sounded like the kind of thing you were supposed to say to a traitor. It had to be true. Angels were made with purpose, designed to fulfill it perfectly. They could do no wrong… but Vaggie had… so that must mean she was… defective. Wrong. Trash like the Sinners down in this Hellhole. If she wanted to spare the wicked, then she was supposed to be damned to live among them, right? Vaggie wheezed in pain, unable to speak as she desperately tried to crawl away… again, that terrible moment of hesitation flared up in Lute’s mind.

Lute had dealt the punishment for disobedience, but there was still the punishment for sparring a Sinner… but… it was just one Sinner, right? This was Vaggie, her friend. Her best friend. One she’d sworn to protect, as with all the other Exorcists. Maybe, Lute could convince Adam that Vaggie had been punished enough, try to get him to make an exception? With some time, surely Vaggie would come to understand why what she did was wrong and why punishment had been necessary. Just a lapse in judgment, easily righted. Lute heared the heavy sound of displaced air as Adam’s mighty wings brought him down to ground level, she could see him out of the corner of her eye. Could she convince him?... But he had told Lute to handle this, he knew what was going to happen. If Lute second guessed him, asked him to change the rules and make an exception… That was as bad as disobeying orders. Then Adam would cast her down too.

No… Vaggie made her choice. There was no changing that. Lute did what must be done, that was why she existed. To do what others weren’t prepared to do. Grabbing onto Vaggie’s twitching wings, she pressed her foot harder on the traitor’s back. This was as close to mercy as Lute was allowed to give, she could at least make it quick.

Another heart wrenching scream pierced Lute’s ears as Vaggie’s wings came free from her shoulders in a spray of glowing golden gore. She could feel Vaggie’s body spasm and writhe under her boot and Lute did her best to not let her stomach churn. 

Adam’s shadow loomed over them both, the lights of his mask illuminating the dim alleyway. His face was borderline expressionless, seemingly barely upset over the turn of events. Instead of any of his usual quips, he merely reached down and yanked the black halo from over Vaggie’s head without ceremony. Vaggie’s body gave a last painful twitch, her remaining eye struggling to stay open as she looked up at them. She looked so… broken. Adam turned away first, spreading his wings and flying up. In the distance, Lute heard the trumpeting sound of the retreat being called. It was time to return to Heaven… alone. Lute turned away, giving her golden sword a small flick to free it of the accusatory eye stuck to the end of it. Vaggie made her choice, these were the consequences, Lute did what was required. That was what Lute told herself at least.

She left without saying goodbye.

—

“... I told you that you wouldn’t like it.” Lute finished recounting her story, a miserable cloud of guilt hanging over her as she watched the other woman. Vaggie had remained silent throughout the retelling, not even a comment or question to be heard. The woman’s expression had continually darkened over the course of the story, keeping her soul piercing gaze pinned on Lute the entire time.

“And you swear that’s the truth.” The question was uncomfortably devoid of emotion.

“Every word of it. Exactly as I felt that day. I swear it on my honor… I know that might mean little to you these days, but it still means something to me.” Lute answered, sitting up. Lute had never been a good liar anyway. Vaggie deserved her honesty, no matter how bad it made Lute look.

Vaggie remained silent for a time, fingers tapping out a regular rhythm on the desk as she sat and digested everything Lute had said. The air between them was thick and uncomfortable and Lute could only brace herself for what she knew as coming. An age of silence came and went, and finally vaggie stirred. The angel stood silently from her chair and with slow methodical steps she made her way around the desk to stand in front of Lute. Lute held her gaze the entire time, it would be wrong to look away now.

The angel’s hand flashed out, landing an open palm slap against Lute’s face that set her brain spinning and left her cheek burning. A second later, the hand came down again, harder, backhanding Lute with enough force to send her crashing to the floor of Vaggie’s office. It would have been easy to block either strike, but Lute hadn’t bothered. It had been long overdue and the least of what she deserved. The world spun as she pulled herself to sit up, warm golden blood drooling down her stinging cheeks from where Vaggie’s sharp nails had split skin.

“Maldita arpía sin alma! ” Vaggie hissed as her mask began to break, the dark expression breaking to reveal utter heartbreak. Vaggie was shaking now, hands clenched so tight that her nails were digging into her palms. Lute said nothing, just shifted slightly to sit against the wall and stare miserably at the floor. Vaggie needed a moment to control her breathing, voice quavering on the edge of tears. “You know… for fucking… years now, I have tried to paint you as the fucking bad guy. I tried to pretend that you were just as cold and uptight as you always pretended to be. Told myself that I just imagined everything between us, that you never fucking cared about me. That was easier to swallow, that what you did to me meant nothing because I meant nothing… but-”

Vaggie’s words paused as she struggled to contain her emotions, any semblance of composure cracking away bit by bit. Every word just felt like glass being shoved under Lute’s skin.

“But… somehow the truth is worse. Fuck. The fact that you did care , that you hesitated… but you didn’t stop? Thats so much fucking worse. You know that fucking worse, right?”

“... I do.” Lute mumbled her answer, unable to look up.

“Shit. You did care about me… you just cared about him more.” A foul bitterness entered Vaggie’s tone at the thought of Adam. “Too fucking worried that he’d turn on you too, that you’d ruin the fantasy of his approval. God fucking damn it.” Vaggie’s voice finally cracked, and Lute could hear the tears start to fall as Vaggie struggled to keep speaking. “I-I trusted you, was happy to follow you, I thought the f-fucking world of you, Lute… but now I see the fucking ugly truth. You’re a coward.” The desk creaked slightly as Vaggie sat against it, bringing her hands up to hug herself and trying to look at anything other than the sad figure of her former idol sat crumbled on the floor like the trash she was.

Lute was silent for a long time, with only the occasional sniffle from Vaggie to fill the air between them. Lute just sat there, stewing in the pain she had caused Vaggie. The violation of a century long bond of trust between them that she had ruined with one terrible act, then proceeded to act like a child and kept stomping its remains in the mud.

“... You’re right.” she croaked, and the admission seemed to shock Vaggie enough to turn and look at her. Lute lifted her head up, pulling herself up from her shame to try and meet Vaggie’s eye, see the tears streaming down her face. “I’m a coward. I could have stopped what I was doing at any time, actually thought about it. I was too scared of doing anything that poked a hole in my fragile reality… and for what? It didn’t help me… Just made me lose my best friend. I failed you. Beyond all those rules and responsibilities, when I became leader of the Exorcists I was given a single job that was more important than any other. It was my duty to care for and protect my fellow Exorcists, yet when that came to test… I protected myself instead.” She could have done more for Vaggie, broken rules or not, Lute should have at least tried, if not defended Vaggie’s choice. Loyalty to those under her command should have superseded loyalty to authority.

“... do you remember my first Extermination?” Vaggie asked, wiping at her eye with the back of her hand.

“You were terrified. Hands shaking so bad you could barely hold your spear.”

“I was going into Hell to fight demons, it was fucking terrifying. I had only been alive for like two months…” Vaggie gave a half hearted laugh, but her expression fell immediately after. “You took me by the hand, told me I didn’t need to be scared. Promised me that you’d protect me, no matter what. I believed you, believed in that promise and never felt afraid again… at least not until I turned around and saw you in the alley.”

The words cut deep. Tears pricked at Lute’s eyes as she was reminded of her broken promise. Promises were not hollow things that Lute gave out, when she had made that promise to Vaggie she had meant it. Breaking that promise in the way she had was unforgivable. 

“Vaggie, I want to make it right, I know that's a lot easier said than done, but I meant what I said. I’m so sorry for failing you and for everything I did after. I just want my friend back.” Lute said, and Vaggie looked down at her for a few long seconds, carefully choosing her response.

“Thats part of the problem. Even after everything you did, there’s a part of me that wants that too Lute. I miss what we had. I didn’t want you kill you during the Extermination, was happy that Charlie saved you… I can see things working out with you in the hotel, can see us working together just like old times. I want it… but I just can’t trust you again that easily.” Vaggie sighed wearily, hugging herself a little tighter.

“Is there a way I can earn your trust again? Please Vaggie, I’m willing to do anything.” Lute promised. Vaggie looked down at her, thinking hard and searching Lute for any sign of hesitation or dishonesty. Lute hoped there was none to find.

“... There is a way but you aren’t going to like it… Get off the floor, idiot.” Vaggie wiped her face a final time, taking a deep breath to try to regain some composure. Reaching down she pulled Lute up off the floor, gesturing for Lute to sit back in her chair as Vaggie went back around to her desk. Lute blinked, what could Vaggie possibly want her to do that she was sure Lute wouldn’t like? Cautiously she sat down, using her limp sleeve to wipe her own face clean. Damn emotional conversations making her look unprofessional. She looked up as Vaggie quickly typed something on her phone and hit send.

Almost immediately afterwards, Lute heard the distinct tone of a message being received from just behind the door at her back. This was followed by much fumbling and scrambling, before the door to Vaggie's office slowly opened. The Princess, Charlie Morningstar, stepped through the doors, doing her best to look professional despite the fact that her makeup was a little runny.

“... Thanks for getting here so quickly, Babe.” Vaggie sighed, shaking her head.

“H-hey, got your text Vaggie. Wanted to get here quick, just uh… came back from cutting onions in the kitchen! Yeah, prepping for dinner and all. Definitely haven’t been listening to any private super emotional moments through the door or anything.” Charlie lied through her teeth as she pulled out a handkerchief to dab at her eyes and nose. At least Lute wasn’t the only bad liar in the building. 

“Princess…” Lute looked up at the woman, a little too distracted to go though her usual efforts toward propriety such as rising when someone of rank entered a room. She turned back to Vaggie. “What does the princess have to do with me regaining your trust?” she asked suspiciously.

“Charlie and I talked about this… a lot. This wasn’t an easy choice to come to but I couldn’t see an alternative.” Vaggie began, settling back in her seat. She looked rather guilty about whatever her plan was, but showed no sign of backing away from her current path. “This talk went better and worse than I thought it would, but I still figured we would end up at this point. I can’t just start trusting you again on blind faith, I’m sorry but it's just not that easy. If I can’t trust you, I can’t work with you. I know its selfish what I’m about to ask, but it is what it is. Charlie and I are offering you a choice. Option A: you leave Pentagram City.”

“... What?” Lute was dumbfounded, after all that, Vaggie just wanted her to go? She wanted to ask questions but Vaggie held up her hand to stop her.

“There will be no indentured servitude to one of the Sins, no sketchy deals with a royal demon, no hidden ties to the hotel, none of that. You’ll be completely free to do whatever you want, Charlie and I will even help you get started, I don’t care if we need to buy you a beach house in Gluttony or a horse ranch in Wrath. You will be able to lead whatever life you want, so long as you don’t do it here and don’t ever come back to Pride.” Vaggie spoke in a tone of total, undeniable sincerity. Technically speaking, it was a generous offer, but it came at the cost of completely cutting herself off from Vaggie again.

“What’s option B?” Lute asked.

“Option B is the one where you stay in Pride and work at the hotel with Charlie and I… but not without cost. Lute, I need a real, tangible assurance that I will be able to trust you, that you won’t betray me or hurt me again. There is only one way I know how to get that down here.” Vaggie explained solemnly. It clicked for Lute then, a cold chill running up her spine as she realized why she called Charlie into the room.

“... You want me to give my soul to the Princess.” Lute said that cold chill growing stronger at the very idea.

“Woah! Woah woah, no, nuh uh!” Charlie cut in, waving her arms to snap Lute out of her dawning horror. “Nope, don’t want your soul if we can help it! Super duper not a fan of that.”

“Then what do you both want?” Lute asked suspiciously.

“Charlie and I went back and forth, drafting up a contract. It's honestly just a modified employment contract for the hotel, binding you a little tighter to its rules and giving assurances that you can’t harm or betray either of us specifically.” Vaggie explained, still watching Lute carefully.

“Doing a contract wasn’t exactly my first choice, but that’s also why I wanted to make sure it was temporary!” Charlie added, trying her best to smile. “You can double check the wording, but the contract expires in a year. At that point we can either renew or… hopefully not need it anymore.”

“... and what happens if I do something to break the contract?” raising an eyebrow, Lute watched the pain look between each other before Charlie heaved a sigh. The Princess twiddled with her thumbs for a bit, reluctant to answer, when she finally did… Lute wasn’t exactly a fan of what she heard.

“If you break the terms of the contract by betraying us, intentionally and harmfully violating the rules of the hotel, or causing intentional harm to either of us that isn’t to save our lives… Then you forfeit your soul to me and, well, I guess we figure stuff out then. Don’t really like planning for the worst case scenario.” Charlie admitted.

Lute went silent, sitting back in her chair and mulling over what had been said. Involuntarily, her mind flashed back to when Alastor threatened her with decades of torture to relieve her of her soul. As far as she had fallen, making a deal with a Demon was the highest act of heresy. It would be the ultimate point of no return. A few weeks ago, she’d have never even imagined considering it, but… Lute closed her eyes and groaned. God fucking damn it, she couldn’t believe she was considering this.

“Terms. Show me the terms.”

“Lute, are you sure?” Vaggie cautioned her, but there was a note of hope in her voice. 

“Just, show me the damn contract before I start spiraling into a conspiracy about this being an incredibly convoluted long con to steal my soul.” Lute growled, holding out her hand. She did not like the idea of being under a contract. Not even a little… but if this is what it took for Vaggie to feel safe around her, to start trusting her again, she would do it. Besides, there were definitely worse choices for people to possibly have owning your soul than Charlie. The Princess would probably use such total power over Lute to force her to go to therapy or some shit like that.

“If you’re sure.” Charlie pulled a stack of golden pages out from her fiery portal storage, handing them over to Lute. she pulled out a fancy feather quill as well, notably it wasn’t an angel feather, so Lute didn’t have a reason to go into a blind rage over it.

Contracts and legal stuff were decidedly not something Lute was very familiar with, but thankfully Charlie seemed to have made a point about using clear and simple language instead of the dense legalese she imagined was used to pad out most documents like this. Lute read through it page by page, scrutinizing every to the best of her ability. True to Vaggie’s description, the majority of the contract was mostly just related to her employment at the hotel. Outlining duties that Charlie had already discussed with her. Lute’s job was the security of the hotel and its guest and she was actually given a fair bit of leeway under that umbrella to operate within her best judgment. She was bound to attempt to protect hotel guests and staff from harm, but it specified only when it was both feasible and reasonable to do so. Basically meaning that Lute wouldn’t get punished if some hotel guest got hurt when she wasn’t even around or aware of it… though there was a notable exception in protections made for if any guest or staff violated the rules of the hotel and was trying to cause harm, Lute felt this part had been added by Vaggie with a certain antlered prick in mind.

There were special protections for Lute and Vaggie as well. Lute was not to cause either of them direct harm unless it was to save their lives or she was given permission otherwise. They both had a certain amount of power over Lute, especially Charlie as the contract holder, but there were several clauses binding them from being able to abuse this, which made Lute feel a little better.

Most surprising, the contract outlined several benefits for Lute as an employ of the hotel. Guaranteed housing on sight, or aid in securing offsite housing. Guaranteed time off, benefits, a medical plan that Lute sincerely doubted she’d need and more.

“... What are these pages full of nonsense numbers?” Lute asked, eyes scanning over the page again and again, trying to deduce some hidden code.

“Oh? Is the salary not good enough? I thought it was pretty generous, but I can do more if you don’t think it’s fair.” Charlie leaned over, looking at the pages with concern. None of what Charlie said answered Lute’s question.

“What the fuck is a ‘salary’?” As confused as Lute was, she’d have quite liked to have caught and framed the look of utter dumbfounded shock on the Princess’ face. Vaggie actually let out a small, genuine laugh.

“Money, Lute. We aren’t in Heaven, things cost money down here. Because we’re dating, I just use Charlie’s card but I figured you wouldn’t want to always have to run to Charlie when you want to buy some new clothes or whatever.” Vaggie explained. “With the hotel going official, we want to make sure all of the staff are well compensated. That includes those under contract for one reason or another.”

“Ah… I knew that.” Lute said, though she definitely didn’t. Money had always been a mortal thing, made utterly obsolete in Heaven. She ought to have expected it to be a component of life down here… not that Lute was a big shopper or anything, the thought of getting some better fitting clothes was appealing.

Eventually, she ran out of excuses to keep rereading the document and was simply left with her choice. Take the deal, be bound to The Princess, Vaggie and the hotel… or leave and shut the door on this part of her life. Freedom but at the cost of isolation. Lute sat the document on Vaggie’s desk and looked at it for a good long time, wrestling with quite possibly the most important decision of her life.

“... I meant what I said about making things right.” Lute picked up the pen, scratching out her name across the dotted line. The signature flashed for a moment, the ink drying instantly… but other than that it seemed a bit anti-climatic. “... is it done?”

“Well, no, not quite. Contracts are just the terms and conditions. Technically you can still rip it up if you want to back out. The deal is sealed with a handshake.” Charlie explained, holding out her hand. As she did so, wave wave of heat and pressure filled the room as the more human elements of Charlie’s form melted away. She stood in her full demon form, radiating power and watching Lute with those intense red and yellow eyes. Lute’s mouth suddenly felt very dry. 

With a last look at Vaggie, Lute gathered her courage and stood. Staring up as the demon princess, Lute locked eyes with her as she clasped her hand. The effect was immediate and overwhelming. The raw force of Charlie’s innate power slammed against her soul, flames twisting and turning through the core of Lute’s being. Every single term and condition of the contract was imprinted in Lute’s mind, to remain until the contract expired or her soul was forfeit. Weakness overcame her, making her hand slip out of Charlie’s as she dropped to her knees in front of the princess. The world seemed to swim around her gradually slowing and reassembling into something coherent.

A strange warm weight settled around Lute's neck as her vision began to clear. Experimentally, Lute reached a hand up to her neck. Sealed around her throat was a golden collar, manifested from the magic of the deal yet it felt as heavy and solid as true metal. Vaggie, Charlie, and Lute all stared in tense silence at the gold chain links that started from the collar and stretched across the distance with the end of the chain resting in the Princess' open palm. Charlie, in particular, seemed utterly transfixed on the chain, closing her fingers around it slowly. Perhaps out of curiosity or acting on some strange impulse, she gave the chain a small yank.

Now, this wasn't the first time Lute had worn a collar in her life. Certain private bedroom activities had called for it and built a bit of a mental association between collars and those bedroom activities. As Lute felt the chain tighten and the metal pull against her throat, autopilot kicked on before she had a chance to grab the controls. She barely managed to slap a hand over her mouth to stifle a rather… unprofessional noise.

Charlie and Vaggie were staring at her again, cheeks flushed at her embarrassing little slip up. She imagined her own face was practically golden. Good god, how mortifying. They must think her some pervert. Not a good impression. Taking a deep breath, Lute quickly regained her composure and stood up.

“... Whatever you think you heard. You didn't.” She stated simply. “If we can be done with… this, ma’am.” Lute gestured to the still hanging chain and collar.

“O-oh, right!” Charlie seemed to snap out of her thoughts, her demonic features flowing away as her eyes resumed their softer yellow red coloration. As she released the chain, it broke apart into golden mist that she quickly waved away. Oddly, even after it dissipated entirely, Lute could swear she could still feel it around her throat for a few lingering seconds. A reminder that the contract was still there. “Uh, so sorry about that. I didn't think there would be a uh, chain involved. L-last time I made a deal with Sera, it was just kind of like a pair of handcuffs.” Charlie babbled awkwardly .

“I think that was because your deal with her didn't involve souls at all.” Vaggie observed, face still a little flushed. Shaking her head, she turned to look at Lute. “... Thank you Lute, I know it's a selfish request… but it means a lot.”

“I won't pretend it is a choice I'm 100% comfortable with or something I ever thought I'd do but…” Lute's fingers brushed against her now bare neck, remembering the phantom weight. She met Vaggie's gaze and gave her a small smile. “It's a small price to pay to make up for how I failed you and… I would say Miss Morningstar has proven she can be trusted considering all she's done for me when I really didn't deserve it.”

Y-y-you t-trust me!?” The Princess’ eyes turned big and watery, on the verge of big happy tears. She looked dangerously on the edge of trying to hug Lute.

“Yes, I suppose I do, ma’am.” Cautiously, Lute backed up a step to make sure she was out of grappling range. They weren't there yet. Vaggie just laughed at the Princess' emotional nature and Lute's aversion to what would very likely be an unfortunately wet Princess hug. Lute continued, enjoying the touch of levity after today's emotional rollercoaster. “I look forward to working with you both.”

“It'll be good to have you back.” Vaggie admitted with a warm smile.

“I’m so excited! We might have had a rocky start and there is a lot to do before the hotel opens back up in a few days, but working together I think we can handle it. We are going to make one Hell of a team!” The Princess said with that trademark goofy grin of hers. 

Lute grimaced, glad that there had been no clause in her contract about needed to laugh at the Princess' bad jokes. Vaggie rolled her eyes, so at least Lute wasn't alone in that opinion. As she settled back into her chair, Charlie and Vaggie began to talk animatedly about all the various tasks that needed to be completed before the grand opening. She found herself smiling as she watched them talk. Entering into a contract with the Princess just so she could stay in the hotel was certainly not something she could have ever predicted she would do, but surprisingly the decision has been easier than she thought it would be. Her life had been falling apart for far, far longer than she had wanted to admit and she couldn't keep clinging to those tattered remains forever. A temporary contract was a small price to pay to regain her best friend’s trust and Charlie was proving more and more to have the potential to be a leader worthy of following. Her new life in Hell had certainly had a pretty awful start (entirely her fault) but it might end up being not quite as terrible as she thought it would be.

Chapter Text

The unfortunate truth of creating porn is that it's a lot less sexy than most people think. 

Oh sure, a decent amount of the process involves getting honest to God railed on camera, but that's like one fifth of the day if you're lucky and a lot of positions that look good on camera don't actually feel that great at all. The rest of the day is eaten up by reshoots, technical issues, scene set up, Travis' long winded rants about his ‘creative vision' and so on. A five or ten minute scene can take an entire day to film if everything goes well and Valentino doesn't get pissy and rip something or someone in half. 

Truth be told, sometimes Angel honestly thought his greatest feats of acting talent were the simple act of not looking bored as shit on camera. Seriously, you do one hardcore home invasion rape fantasy film, you’ve done a thousand. Seriously, that seemed to be all Angel ever did these days. Bondage, gang bangs, rape fantasy, hardcore and just about anything you could think of. All rough and edgy and intense the way Val liked it but for Angel it was getting… repetitive. It truly was a sign of just how long Angel had been at this career that all the hardcore stuff that was supposed to be thrilling and taboo was just kind of mundane. God, how he wondered what it might be like to be shooting like… a romantic comedy or something. A sexy romantic comedy, of course, still would have to be dirty but a little bit of light-heartedness between scenes would be a change of pace.

Angel had jokingly softballed the idea to his boss once or twice but, of course, had gotten completely dismissed. Val was entirely convinced that kind of thing wouldn't sell (not that he'd tried) and he had no interest in producing it. Just as well, Angel seriously doubted that halfwit Travis could actually write anything of above the bare minimum quality of trashy porn.

Maybe… Angel could write it instead? You want something done right, do it yourself as they say. Seriously, if Travis could write a script, it can't possibly be that hard. Angel had seen dozens of romcoms, not by choice of course, but they were Charlie's go-to whenever it was her turn for movie night. Some of them weren't even that bad. Angel could totally write one. At least try anyway. If it didn't pan out, nobody had to know he'd even tried; Angel could just hide away his attempts in a journal or something… might need to buy a safe to keep Niffty from finding it. It was a dumb, silly idea and Angel wasn't the nerdy creative type… but it might be good for a laugh? Just to say he did it. All he needed was an idea. 

Hmm… Rom coms recycled plots all the time, it wouldn't be difficult to just start with something basic and rebrand it. Maybe, some dude's date never shows so he rizzs up the waiter instead? Could be spicy. Or two folks who lied about their looks on their dating profile meet up and decide to try things out anyway? Comedy potential there. Hijinks possibly. Well, half the fun of those movies was how the characters’ personalities play off each other. Maybe something more character heavy… like a washed up actor getting close with a grumpy bartend-

A particularly hard thrust knocked Angel out of his daydreaming and reminded him that he was, in fact, in the middle of a shoot… and in the middle of two dudes, but again that was nothing new. It wasn't like he needed to do much acting in a scene like this, more just kind of let himself be manhandled and, again, try not to look bored. He'd been zoned out for a bit, but based on the tempo, they were coming up on the finisher. The smaller set of eyes that mimicked the freckles he had once had in life flicked to the side while he kept his main eyes on the action, a useful trick for catching stage directions from the film crew. They were changing the camera angles so his face would be shown, time to lock in.

Plastering on a more lewd expression and sucking harder to appease the camera, Angel did what he did best. Looking up at the burly, grim face minotaur man that thrusted into his throat while grinding his hips against the equally musclebound wolf man thrusting into him from behind. Angel Dust put on a show, partly because he did actually like to do his best on camera and partly just because he really, really didn't want to go through another take. After about a minute more of thrusting, sucking, and moaning, Angel felt a very subtle tap from where the minotaur had his hand gripping Angel’s hair. The scene was coming to a close.

Without ceremony, the minotaur pulled his cock out from Angel’s throat, still gripping his hair and turning Angel’s head to look up at him.

“Well, now that we got our money's worth; let's get the money shot.” The beast of a man growled. It took every fucking ounce of Angel’s willpower to not roll all 8 of his eyes. Fucking really Travis? That line had to be a new low. Nonetheless, Angel thankfully wasn't called on to say anything for this scene, just let the guys do their thing. Adopting a dazed, cock drunk expression; Angel gave a good long and lewd moan as the two beefcakes pulled up their dicks just in time for the camera to catch them spreading their loads all over his face and back. Messy, but also hardly the worst Angel ever came out of a shoot.

“And hold the camera on Angel’s face for a second… one… two… and that's got it! Alright, scene!” Called out the asshole owl himself as Travis guided the camera crew, but with him giving the approval, everyone relaxed as they were more than happy to wrap up for the day. Fucking finally, they'd been at this shit for hours.

“Ey! Can I get a towel? Don't want this stuff to get dry.” Angel called out, thankfully Margie rushed on from the side to hand him some stuff to clean off with. Great gal that Margie, could always trust her to help you out.. unless it's food, she did put arsenic in her last boyfriend's cookies, but in her defense he had cheated on her with her mom so… fair. “Thanks doll.” Angel said, shifting around his lower arms to take the damp towel and start cleaning off his face.

“Oh, let me get those ropes for ya, Angel buddy.” Came the now much gentler voice of the minotaur, stepping around to undo the ropes that had been used to bind his main arms. “Hope Alex and I weren't too rough on ya, I know you can take it and all, but I worry y’know?”

“You boys were fine Rufus, proper gentleman as much as the camera let ya be.” Angel chuckled at the overly apologetic brute. Rufus looked the part of the big angry hulk and could play it well enough but the man genuinely couldn't hurt a fly. Still was a mystery how he ended up in Hell, but not every Sinner liked to talk about their past so Angel didn't bother to ask. He had his own skeletons in the closet, no room for judgment. 

After being freed of his bonds and getting at least cleaned up enough that he wouldn't smell like cum on the ride back to the Hotel, Angel had a few minutes to casually chat with his costars. They were, usually, the least terrible part of the job. You'd think that a porn studio in Hell that specializes in hardcore content would exclusively hire freaks and weirdos, but the truth was that the bulk of Angel's coworkers were pretty chill and down to earth folks. It was all an act, they were actors, it's a simple concept. In the early days Valentino had experimented with hiring actual rapists and sex offenders for the sake of authenticity… that had been a pretty fucking awful but thankfully short experiment. Yeah, turns out the kind of Sinners that actually do that shit are usually bad actors and also really bad at things like following directions. Val has a habit of getting wicked murdery when people backtalk him, so it's not hard to guess how that played out. 

Eventually, the good chatter came to an end as fucking Travis sauntered over, smacking a stack of freshly printed paper in his hands. Here we fucking go.

“Hey hey! Angel, baby, fucking fantastic fucking today. I can always count on you to take a pounding.” The owl man said with his usual smug enthusiasm, feathers fluffed up with pride over ‘his’ work. 

“Yeah huh, I do what I'm paid to.” Angel just sighed, wiggling his butt into his shorts. As much as he was paid, it was only barely enough to put up with fucking Travis and his lame screenplays. 

“Ey, ain't that the truth! Rise and grind, do what you gotta do. Hell of a world we live in.” Travis laughed obnoxiously at his own joke before he finally seemed to remember why he was bothering Angel. “Speaking of work, wanted to get you an early script for the next big picture, and I do mean big. This one is gonna do numbers, I'm sure of it.” Travis flourished the script before dropping it in Angel’s hands. One look at the title was enough to drain the blood out of Angel’s face.

“... Deal Breakers and Ass Shakers 2? Fuck, are ya sure ‘bout this one Travis? The studio almost got burned down the last time…” The first film had been controversial and risky. Angel and several other actors got death threats over it and there had been some very tense visits to the Vee tower by powerful, angry people.

“Exactly! Controversy makes sales, Angel baby! People have been waiting for this sequel for years, it's definitely some of my best work. Also, don't get so whacked out, I did a better job this time about being subtle with the name changes. I promise nobody is gonna get as pissy as last time.” Travis seemed confident but Angel knew better. A porno parody anthology of the city’s Overlords and top gangsters was dangerous fucking territory. Angel thumbed through the pages to get an idea of what he was dealing with. The rebranded names were as bad as he expected. Carlotta Carbine, The Boner Lord, Mister Rexi… The Talkshow Demon!? Fuck, thank God that Al never watched TV. 

“Lemme guess, Val already approved the script.”

“You know it baby, just got out of the pitch meeting with him before this shoot.” Travis, oblivious or uncaring to Angel's obvious dislike of the script, gave big double finger guns. This shit was going to get Angel torn in half and not in the sexy way. Nothing Angel could do about it though, he simply resigned to having to page through it later to learn his lines. Unfortunately, Travis kept talking before Angel could turn to leave. “Hey, before you walk off, I hear rumors that little hotel you hang at out got a new guest. Another Exorcist right?”

Angel's eyes narrowed at the birdman. They weren't exactly trying to keep Lute a secret or anything, but she had barely left the property much less the building since she crashed and burned in the front lawn. Knowing what Angel knew about how things worked around here, Travis probably heard from Val who learned it from Vox which meant there were probably cameras they still hadn't found hidden on the property. He made a mental note to talk to Vaggie about it.

“Yeah, what's it to ya?”

“What's it to me? Angel baby, think about it! That's two Exorcists! You gotta convince them to come to the studio! People down here would be dying to see some old fashioned revenge porn starring a pair of real, live Exorcists! I mean, sure sure, I hear that they're both kinda broken goods but we gotta make up department to make them camera ready.” Travis seemed to get lost in his thoughts, imagining scenarios and utterly oblivious to the way Angel was glaring at him. “Oh yeah, the Princess was dating the eyeless one right? Now there is something we can work with. Killer bod on that Princess, even if she made a mess of the studio. Imagine it, Demon Princess punishing a pair of naughty Exorcists. Man, when I tell you people would go insane for that shi-”

All four of Angel's arms grabbed fistfuls of Travis' coat and forced the man to meet Angel's glowing glare.

“Shut the fuck up, Travis.” Angel hissed. It had been bad enough when Charlie wandered into this fucking place on her own. The way Val had looked at her, talked to her, fucking licked her. No, that shit wasn't ever going to happen again. Angel might be forced to put up with all this studio’s bullshit but he'd rather be damned all over again than let any of his friends even near this place. He shook the owl man and continued with a growl. “That shit ain't gonna happen, ever. Ain't none of my friends comin’ within a block of this fucking studio and definitely not to work in one of your shitty screenplays. In fact, I don't want yous to so much as look at any of my friends or I'm gonna introduce ya intestines to fresh air, capisci?”

Rage flared in Travis' eyes as he glared back at Angel. He'd never been good at talking insults, rejection, or even mild criticism and normally would react to any by shoving a gun between the other person's teeth. The man enjoyed the privileged position of being one of Valentino's favorites, so to mess with him usually meant messing with Val. Travis loved to abuse that and push his weight around… unfortunately for him, he couldn't do that with Angel. It wasn't a privilege Angel used often and playing this card made Angel as sick to his stomach as when he used to have to hide behind his father's name, but Angel was Valentino’s favorite toy. Nobody was allowed to touch him except for Valentino.

Travis held Angel’s many eyed glare for several seconds, hand twitching towards the gun hidden in his jacket but in the end he was far too much of a coward. Plastering on a very fake grin, Travis held up his hands in surrender.

“Hey hey, no need for all that. Just tryin’ to make a suggestion but if you're not up for passin’ it on, I'll drop it. Happy?”

“Glad we're on tha same page. Ora vaffanculo.” Angel gave Travis a light shove as he released him. The owl man made a show of dusting himself off before turning to glare at all the people nearby, who suddenly became very focused on the menial tasks they'd been pretending to do. Angel had probably just earned a vindictively written gangbang scene written into his future, but fuck it, it was worth it. He sighed, turning back to finish packing up his stuff.

Now that he thought about it, he had kinda unthinkingly lumped Lute in with his friends, caught up in the moment as he was. Their newest guest and soon to be security guard was certainly a special kind of crazy. She'd calmed down a lot since her biblical breakdown, but was she friend material? Angel hadn't exactly missed the way she'd been tempted to kill him as recently as this morning but flaring tempers weren't exactly new in Hell. Sure, she'd tried to kill him twice, but Sir Pentious had shot Angel with a cannon once while he was helping out Cherri and they'd ended up being good friends. Some friendships get off to a rocky start. She had seemed pretty genuine in her concern over getting Angel out of his deal… and she wasn't nearly as good as she thought she was about hiding the way she laughed at some of Angel's jokes. 

Fuck it, if Husk liked her and Charlie trusted her, then Angel could give the crazy Frenchie a chance. She probably just needed to get laid and she’d chill the fuck out. Maybe he and Cherri could take her clubbing and get her a hook up to fix that sour attitude of hers. Just have to figure out what she was into… Clearly, she'd been fucking Adam, who was like 9ft tall and a bit round in the middle. So big chubby guys? Angel could see the appeal. Then again, with that haircut, Angel would put money on her being at least a little bi-curious. His sense for that kinda thing had never failed him before. 

Honestly, Angel wished Lute was here right now, he could use her delusional confidence for the conversation he was about to have. He still needed to talk to Valentino before he left. One on one talks with Val were never something to look forward to. Finding the man was unfortunately easy, the man was over 10ft tall and dressed in his bright red wing coat, though he wasn't alone. Vox was with him, chatting with Val about business stuff probably as he grabbed a donut off the craft services station. Still weird how Vox could like… eat considering his head was a flat screen tv. How did the donut get in there? Where did it go? Fucking bizarre.

Angel pursed his lips in thought. Normally, he made an effort to avoid Vox and Velvette as they weren't much safer to interact with than Val. All of the Vees were their own unique brand of crazy, but Vox and Velvette could at least be counted on to be less likely to kill their employees without good reason, though physical violence wasn't off the table. Still… This might actually work to Angel's advantage. Even if he only rarely interacted with the other Vees, he'd known them long enough to pick up on their quirks.

Applying some of his considerable acting talent to pretend he wasn't nervous as hell, Angel waited for a lull in their conversation before doing his best to casually insert himself.

“Hey, Valentino, Vox. Ya know I hate to interrupt yous guys, just need a second ah Val’s time before I clock out.” Angel said, grabbing his own donut for the road. Holding onto something like that helped hide how his hands were shaking just a bit. Vox merely shifted his eyes off Val, gave Angel a quick look up and down but seemed to decide he wasn’t interested in whatever was about to happen. Shrugging, Vox gave a gesture for Val and Angel to talk as he pulled out his phone and began flicking through notifications. Thankfully, Vox stayed put and within earshot which was all Angel should need.

“Angel Dust…” Valentino turned his gaze down towards Angel, his pink glasses glinting and his mouth already set in a displeased frown. “You’re usually so quick to get out of here these days, I was starting to think you’d forgotten about little old me.” Valentino said mockingly, twirling his cigarette through his fingers as he watched Angel squirm under his gaze. Val always took so much pleasure in making other people feel uncomfortable, it made Angel want to resist out of spite but he kept those thoughts pushed down. Mouthing off would piss Val off and that wasn’t what he needed right now.

“Well, uh, you’re a busy guy Val, don’t usually want ta bother you with my personal problems.” Be diplomatic, be diplomatic, don’t fall for his bait.

“And yet, here you are right now. Bothering me because you want something. Don’t deny it, I know that cute little look you get in your eyes when you’re about to beg.” Valentino’s expression slowly shifted to its usual smug smirk. Angel had a feeling that it wasn’t going to last.

“Not… not begging or nothin’. Just wanted ta remind ya that I won’t be in the studio this comin’ Monday, didn’t want ya to forget and mess up tha filming schedule or nothin cuz of my day off.” Angel spoke calmly as best he could, but braced himself when Valentino’s eyes widened at his words. He knew that fucking asshole moth would forget, he fucking absolutely knew he’d forget. God damn it.

“Monday!? The fuck do you mean day off? Greedy fucking whore, you’re already lucky enough that your fucking contract gives you weekends but now you want a goddamn extra day?” His expression hardening into a snarl, Valentino grabbed a fistful of angel’s shirt and effortlessly lifted him to eye level so Angel could get the full weight of his glare. 

“Val! Val, please just calm down! I’m not askin’ for extra days off, the weekends are great, super generous of ya.” Waving his arms, Angel did his best to talk down the furious overlord. Though he was pretty damn sure his contract had him off weekends purely because Valentino himself didn’t like working weekends and the studio was closed… that didn’t mean that Angel wasn’t called up on his days off for extra work and parties all the fucking time, but now wasn’t the time to get technical. “B-besides! You already gave me the okay when I asked, I figured it’d be fine!”

“Don’t you think you can lie your way out of this one, Puta. Monday we are supposed to start preparing for the next movie, why the fuck would I ever give you that fucking day off!?” Val’s fangs were inches away from his face and he looked dangerously on the edge of starting to smash things, Angel had toact fast.

“Y-ya did tho. Remember, last friday? I hung around after work so you and I could have a bit a’ private time? I asked ya then and you said yes, so I made plans for Monday. I-i guess I could have reminded ya sooner but I figured ya wouldn’t plan nothin’ on Monday cuz I’d be out.” Angel explained, and he hoped that would be just specific enough. Keeping his main eyes on Valentino’s glowing red ones, his smaller eyes flicked down to look at Vox. the other Overlord had been rather unphased by Val’s outburst and volume, still scrolling on his phone but he seemed to have been paying at least a little attention. Angel wanted to sigh in relief when he saw Vox’s eyes go distant, the usual look he got whenever he was looking at some internal menus and data only he could see. His plan had fucking worked. Thank fucking god. 

Vox wasn’t someone that Angel spoke with often, but he knew that the man absolutely couldn’t resist the urge to fact check people. He had constant access to hundreds, maybe thousands of security cameras and he watched everything, so the minute he had a chance to prove someone wrong he’d hop on it with video evidence to prove it. Angel just hoped Vox was really quick, hopefully Angel had given him a close enough approximation of the time.

“Now you’re putting words in my fucking mouth? Dirty fucking liar, why the fuck would I ever approve something like that? I swear to fucking god, this is the last straw Angel, I’m going to fucki-” Valentino raised a hand up, clenching it into a fist as if he was about to strike angel. Val didn’t usually beat angel in public, but it had happened a few times before. Angel was resigning himself to crawling back to the hotel with hopefully just a black eye when Val was interrupted.

“You approved the time off.” Vox stated simply, tucking his phone away and casually placing a hand on the arm that was holding Angel up. Angel wasn’t sure if it was because Val was shocked at being interrupted or if Vox was also just strong as shit, but he seemed to easily put enough pressure on Valentino’s arm to convince the moth to put Angel down. Vox then held up his phone, from which audio of Angel and Valentino’s voices began to play.

“-yeah, Just give me a’ second to lube up here, okay? Uh, hey Val? Not tha best time ta ask this, but the hotel’s got the big opening comin’ up on Monday, ya mind if I take tha day off?”

“Sure, fine, whatever. I don’t give a shit or want to hear you talk for the rest of the night. Now, spread those-”

The recording was cut short at a tap from Vox’s thumb. Angel felt like a few decades had been shaved off his immortal life but he'd been saved at the last minute by the flat faced prince. “I’ll spare everyone the details of what happens next, but you did technically approve the request.”

Valentino’s face twitched with a mix of surprise and indignation. He finally settled on an annoyed eye roll, twirling his cigarette in a dismissive fashion.

“Whatever. I don’t care what I said, wasn’t paying attention. Request unappr-” Val began but surprisingly Vox cut him off again. Stepping closer, Vox’s face brightened as his expression became deathly serious in a way that made even Vox blink in surprise.

“Wrong answer Val.” Vox snarled… This was definitely not how Angel saw this going. Like sure he expected Vox to correct Valentino about the approval and had just hoped that he'd be able to get by with that, but Vox was going way farther than Angel had expected him to. The Overlord lowered his voice down to a whisper, just loud enough for Valentino and Angel to hear. “Val, I will remind you. Our brand is Perfection. We can do whatever we want to the staff that we already fucking own, but if any of the dozen of your staff that are standing around and pretending not to listen in to this conversation overhear that you approved a request and then dismissed it without good reason, then they are going to talk. If word gets out that you can’t be trusted to keep your promises to your employees, then you look untrustworthy. If you look untrustworthy, then Velvette and I look untrustworthy. If we have a reputation for being untrustworthy, then nobody will fucking trust us to enter into new contracts. We can lose souls, business, and public standing over shit like this an you should know this by now.” Vox’s voice hissed with static in a way that was… eerily similar to Alastor when he got angry.

Valentino glared down at Vox with the kind of fury that Angel hadn’t seen since Val threw him around the office after Charlie wreckecd the studio. Angel was almost afraid the two were going to fucking fight, surely anyone else in Hell that talked to Val like that would be seconds away from having their head popped like a grape.… but surprisingly, Val’s shoulders slumped and he turned away from Vox’s intense stare. The man looked like a petulant child that had gotten scolded by their parents. “... Whatever.” 

Angel had to fight the urge to let his jaw drop to the floor, afraid that if he opened his mouth and any sound came out, then his good fortune might rapidly reverse.

“Good.” Vox said curtly, before his face flashed back to a much calmer, casual expression and he stepped back a bit. Speaking in a louder tone now. “Now, what was that about the time off request?” Angel didn’t dare look around, but he could feel several people in the room watching them now. Val could feel it too, based on the way he pursed his lips in an angry frown but he finally yielded.

“Fuck it, fine. Approved. See you Tuesday, I guess.” Valentino sighed.

“Uh… right… T-thanks Val.” Angel managed, trying his best to smile in a way that wouldn’t pissed Valentino off… it didn't work. He was definitely getting the ‘we will talk about this later’ look and those kind of talks were usually bad for his health.

“I am starting to get very tired of hearing about this stupid hotel, Angel.” Val said, blowing a ring of pink smoke at his face. “It's starting to affect your work.” he had the look as if he wanted to complain more, but Vox seemed to take a sudden interest.

“Riiight, you mentioned the Hotel is doing its grand reopening?” 

“Y-yeah, Charlie planned to make it like a’ all day event. She and Alastor were gonna do some speeches, gives tours, show off that facilities that kinda thing. Oh! Speakin’ of, I was gonna hand this off ta Val ta pass onta you, but since you're here Vox…” Angel explained, noting that Vox seemed to perk up with interest at the mention of Alastor’s appearance. Maybe they had history of something? Not his place to ask. Angel reached into his chest fluff and drew out an envelope with a black wax seal.

“What's that? A permission slip from your little Princessa?” Val hissed as Angel handed it over to Vox, who took it with a raised eyebrow.

“No, nothin’ like that. It's… kinda an invitation, I guess? Probably could a been a’ Email or whatever but Charlie and her dad can be old fashioned about the weirdest stuff.” Angel shrugged.

Vox broke the seal with his thumb, resulting in a flash of light and heat that made all three of them jolt. Apparently even a bit of Morningstar magic applied to a wax seal was the kind of power you could practically taste. Must be a great way to make sure nobody can fake royal decrees and shit. Shaking himself, Vox pulled out the letter and gave it a quick read, humming with interest.

“Hmm, less an invitation for us directly, but for our news crew… Hmm, though it does say we are allowed to come in person if we wish, but the Princess understands we are busy people and won't be offended if we don't show up. Very diplomatic way of asking us to not be there.” Vox chuckled, folding up the letter and tucking it away into his coat. “Well, I can shift a few things around, we didn’t have much going on in that time slot. Tell the Princess her message was received and she can expect to see our reporters at her event.” he definitely started leaning into his business persona, acting overly agreeable almost like he was afraid Charlie might smell any bullshit from a mile off.

“Great, I’m sure that won’t be an incredible waste of time.” Valentino rolled his eyes before focusing on Angel. “Now, If you will excuse me Vox, I’m going to… escort Angel out of the building.” ah. It looked like Angel was getting that talk sooner rather than later. The shit he went through for his friends.

“No no, I’ll walk him out.” Vox said, still giving his pleasant businessman smile. Angel and Valentino both just stared at the man in utter confusion. For once Val was too confused to be angry.

“Uh… “ Angel managed, searching for the right response. Like, sure, an excuse to get away from Val was great, but Vox was giving… a weird vibe. Being way too helpful. Red flags from a guy like him. “T-thanks Vox, but I uh… I don’t really need-”

“Nonsense, I said I’ll do it, so I’ll do it. Besiiides, I have a few more questions about that little hotel and Val seems pretty bored with the whole thing. Val and I can catch up on business later while we walk and talk, sound good? Great!” without giving either Angel or Val a chance to respond, Vox threw his arm over Angel’s shoulder and started walking him away with a dumbfounded Valentino in their wake. 

What the fuck was happening? Angel was more or less dragged away from the Studio at Vox’s casual but insistent pace. The man just kept his casual smile plastered on the whole time. Contrary to what he said about walking and talking, they didn’t say much of anything for a good two minutes, at best Vox gave a friendly wave or paused to sign off on something from one of the dozens of staff that always seemed to be juggling a million different tasks. Angel was not feeling super good about this situation. Like, it was better than spending the next few hours getting beaten and/or pounded by Valentino for making him look bad infront of his staff, but the vibes were definitely off… plus, he was probably still going to get it from Val later anyway. Vox’s intervention was at best just delaying the situation for a few days at best, they both knew it, so why was Vox bothering?

Angel got his answer when he and Vox entered into a rare sight for the Vee Tower. An empty hallway. Having no immediate witnesses seemed to be the thing that Vox was waiting for as that’s when the man finally decided to speak up.

“You know, Angel Dust, I don’t give you enough credit.” he said, tilting his flat face just a fraction to look at Angel.

“... Uh… thanks? I guess?”

“It is actually pretty rare that anyone has the right mix of cleverness, bravery, and absolute stupidity to think they can get away with trying to manipulate me.” Vox’s grip tightened on Angel’s shoulder, his hand suddenly buzzing with an electric current. Not enough to be painful, but enough to make Angel’s muscles and nerves go weird, causing his legs to buckle and eventually making him drop to his knees with a crash. Vox kept his hand on Angel’s shoulder, claws threatening to tear into his flesh if the grip tightened even a little. “I admit, I was curious to see where you were going with it, so I was happy to play along. How fucking lucky you are that I’ve been looking for an excuse to remind Valentino about where he stands and the expectations of the Vee brand. If not for that, I would be in a much, much worse mood.” Small jolts of energy flashed through Angel’s nervous system, not painful on their own but making his muscles rapidly clench and relax in a way that was steadily becoming more painful.

“V-vox! Please! I-i-i’m sorry! I wasn’t tryin’ ta p-pull one over on ya or nothin, I swear.” the jolts made Angel stutter through his attempted apology. He was very clearly getting the message that this was what Vox considered a ‘gentle’ reprimand. The implication was clear, a bit of electricity making his muscles go haywire was the least of what Vox was capable of and with minimal effort, Vox could turn up the voltage. “I-it’s just… Val-” Angel tried to explain further, but Vox finally released his grip and gestured for Angel to shut up, something Angel was fucking happy to do while he waited for his muscles to stop convulsing.

“Shut up. The groveling gets Val’s dick hard, not mine. Can’t give less of a shit about your reasoning, it's not exactly rocket science to guess at.” Vox made a show of wiping his hand off on his jacket as if Angel dust was dirty, his expression rather neutral. “I simply want to make it very clear that you never try that shit again, understand?”

“I-I understand.” Angel managed, trying to pull himself off the floor.

“I understand…” Vox repeated, rolling his hand to indicate he wanted a bit more from Angel.

“I understand, Sir.” Angel amended obediently.

“Much better.” Vox cracked a smile, watching as Angel managed to get himself off the floor and resume a shaky standing position. “Now, again, you are rather lucky that I do actually have some interest in that little hotel the Princess is running, so if you would kindly answer some questions about that, I might be inclined to forgive your little transgression.” Ah, so that was his angle. Wanting an insider look on the hotel, just like he’d tried with Sir Pentious. Angel wasn’t about to be no snitch, but just because Vox worded it like a suggestion it was pretty clear that it wasn’t one.

“I… I’m not gonna be a spy for ya.” Angel Dust stood up a bit straighter, he was taller than Vox but not by much, but it allowed him to give the man the best glare he could manage.

“Easy cowboy. I get it, you care about or friends or fucking whatever preschool bullshit. I don’t expect you to spy because I’m damn sure the people in that building that actually have secrets worth telling aren’t spouting them off to their friend the fucking porn star that’s contracted to a dangerous Overlord that could potentially force information out of him.” Vox was entirely unphased by Angel’s act of defiance. Angel deflated a bit. Damn, he really was used to Val snapping over the slightest bit of backtalk, dealing with someone who wasn’t primed to fucking explode was a new sensation. Vox continued, “All I want are you to answer some general questions, I don’t need to know the Princess’ fucking bra size or whatever the fuck.”

“Uh… I guess, general questions are okay then?” Angel shrugged, if it wasn't gonna hurt nobody and it got him out of being electrocuted,what was the harm?

“Fantastic!” Vox clapped, the sounds of a slot machine jackpot ringing out from his speakers briefly before his face went serious again. “First question, arguably most important. The new Exorcist. White hair, white skin, scar on her cheek. What's her name, what's her deal?”

Ah, well that was confirmation that Vox knew about what happened when Lute attacked the hotel. Still, she wasn't exactly a hotel secret, if anything she would have become public knowledge during the grand opening but if Vox wanted to know now, fine.

“That's Lute… well, technically I guess her name is actually Lieutenant.” Angel began.

“Don't bullshit me, Angel.”

“No no, not a joke, that's actually her name.”

“... That's stupid.” Vox said after a beat.

“Hey, I didn't name her. Now where was I? Right. Former head of the Exorcists, tried to kill us because we killed her boyfriend, crashed and burned in that front lawn, got her ass beat, had a few mental breakdowns, and now she's agreed to become the new security for the hotel.” Angel explained, counting off the various events on his fingers. Man a lot happened with her in a short time. Like it'd only been two weeks since she was stomping his face in the dirt but it felt like months.

“She switched sides just like that?” Vox asked skeptically.

“Charlie can be very persuasive.” 

“Clearly… Now what does the job of security entail?” 

“I mean, ya know, security. Yous guys got plenty a’ security guards. Guard the building, enforce that rules, stop fights, that kinda thing. I don't know all that details but I'm pretty sure Charlie doesn't want her going out an’ picking fights if that's what's got ya worried.” Angel shrugged, Vaggie had been pretty clear about trying to keep the hotel out of conflict and politics.

“Hmmm… well, I suppose it's good to know that she'll be on a short leash.” Vox’s eyes were a bit distant, flicking back and forth. That meant he was probably looking at some internal data and taking notes. “Now, about the Angel with the eye patch.”

Vox went on like this for some time, asking fairly basic questions about everyone in the hotel. Seemingly unimportant stuff like how many drinks Husk had per day or if Niffty actually had any kind of schedule when cleaning. Vox did try to sneak in some more direct questions such as if anyone knew what Alastor did on his mysterious errands or the effective range on Charlie's ability to teleport, but Angel both didn't know and would have refused to answer anyway. All in all, Vox mostly seemed content with the surface level information. Maybe he was trying to put together some kind of personality profile on everybody? After about a solid 5 minutes of grilling Angel for information, he seemed satisfied.

“Well, I think that will do for now. Consider yourself free to go.” Vox said, waving Angel off.

“... Just like that?” 

“What? Expecting me to send you out of here with a black eye?”

“Not that I'm askin’ for one but I was kinda expectin’ that, yeah.” Angel shrugged. Talks with Overlords rarely went this painlessly.

“The ounce of personal satisfaction I’d get from putting your skull through a wall is hardly worth the cost of the concealer to cover up your bruises. Besides, I'm in a relatively good mood. Why, I'll even give you a bit of personal advice for you and your friends.” Vox gave an easy shrug.

“An’ what would that be?”

“That all of you should know that Alastor is a great friend to have. Extremely dependable… Right up until he decides he no longer needs you. After that, well, either keep your guard up or try to get out of the splash zone. Trusting that man always ends poorly, trust me.” Vox’s expression went deathly serious and Angel could feel the tingle of static in the air. He'd been right to guess that him and Val had history, bad history clearly. Angel chewed on his words for a bit. Alastor had always been kinda mysterious and shifty and nobody was happy about Charlie owing him a favor… but it'd been months of having him at the hotel and he'd been pretty tame. Stepped up to help the hotel when needed, even took a few cheap shots protecting the place between Adam and Lute. Charlie was all about giving people the chance to change, maybe Alastor deserved a bit of credit?

“... Hey Vox, I'm not gonna ask or nothin’ but it sounds like you and Al got some personal stuff between ya.” Angel said, carefully watching Vox's expression for signs of the man snapping at him. The way his eyes narrowed was a sign that calling it ‘personal stuff’ was an understatement. “But maybe you could, I dunno, come by the hotel? Try an’ talk it with him on neutral ground or whatever, work somethin’ out.” Angel suggested. He might have imagined it, but he swore that there was a tiny moment where Vox's expression softened as if he was considering the idea, but it vanished immediately and in its place an angry growl entered Vox’s voice.

“I have about as much interest in talking to that antiquated asshole as you do in reconciling with your brother, Arackniss.” Vox snarled, making Angel's blood turn to ice.

“H-how do y-you-” Stumbling over his own words, Angel hadn't even heard his brother's name in decades, much less seen him.

“I know everything and what I don't know, I find out.” Vox quickly hid his own emotions over the smug sense of superiority that came with lording personal information over people. “You seriously think I never ran a background check on you, Anthony?” Vox's smile widened at the way Angel winced at hearing his actual name. “I absolutely wasn't going to let the son of a dangerous Mafia Don into my fucking building without making sure all the bridges between your old life and your new one were good and burnt. You and I both know that no matter what Princess Sunshine claims, there is some shit that just doesn't get fixed, so remember your own fucking failings when you're trying to tell me how to live my life or else I might reconsider my stance on ending yours.”

“Yes sir, Vox. S-spoke outta line. Sorry.” Holding up his hands in surrender, Angel backed away a step from the angry Overlord. 

“Glad we understand each other. Now, get out of my building before I message Val about which door you're walking out of.” It was a simple but effective parting threat as Vox made a quick end to the conversation by transforming into a bolt of lightning and blasting himself into the nearest security camera. Angel didn't need to be told twice and moved double time to get out of this fucking building. Maybe if he moved fast enough he could outpace any thoughts of his awful past or his unpleasant present. 

A few minutes later, Cherri rolled up on her motorcycle to find Angel standing a few blocks away from the Vee tower, puffing on a smoke in a vain attempt to calm his nerves.

“Hey Angie! Got your text, came by as fast as I could.” Cherri said as she dropped a leg down to balance the bike. She looked him up and down with a frown. “Yeesh, your nerves look fuckin’ shot, mate. Bad day?”

“The usual bullshit wit some bonus headaches thrown in at tha last minute.” Angel sighed, dropping the cigarette to crush it under his boot. No point in trying to smoke while riding and it wasn't helping much these days anyway. Maybe he should stop wasting money on them? “Ya’ know Cherry, I'm startin’ ta think that everybody down here’s got a lot more personal issues than they say they do.”

“Not me, I'm doin’ pretty great.” Cherri laughed, patting the back seat of the bike for him to get on. “Savin' money hangin’ out at the hotel, gettin’ three square meals a day, all that shit. Livin’ the dream.”

“Yeah sure.” Yeah, Angel wasn't that dumb. He knew Cherri better than that. She'd been living it up at the hotel, practically spending all of her time working in the place like she was part of the staff while actively refusing to actually join the staff and while she was probably living better than she used to, there were plenty of aspects of her usual life she was neglecting for reasons she would never explain. Still, he plopped his ass down on the back of the bike. “When's the last time you got laid?”

“Ass.” She laughed, revving the bike with its obnoxiously loud engine. “I've been tryin' to focus on my career, ‘sides you know I don't date anymore.”

Angel wasn't exactly sure he would call blowing up buildings and fighting over a few blocks of territory a ‘career’ but whatever. That was true, while Cherri had been known for frequent clubbing and hook ups she had firmly been off the dating scene for about 20 years now after a legendarily bad breakup. Still, Angel had been referring to the fact that while Cherri had gotten back into maintaining her territory, she hadn't gone clubbing in weeks. 

“Whatever Cherr. Man, I need a fuckin’ break. We outta go out some time, I need a fuckin' drink that isn't served by the resident drunk.” Angel groaned. He really needed to stop thinking about other people's problems.

“What, ‘cause you can't stop thinkin’ about tryin’ to fuck him?” Cherri teased as they took off, Angel lightly punching her in the shoulder and only making her laugh harder. That was the last time he confessed anything to Cherri. Oh, she could be trusted to keep a secret, but it came at the cost of teasing him relentlessly over it. 

Just one more problem for the pile, at least he'd accomplished his goal for the day and made sure to get his time off (despite the cost), so he could at least save tomorrow's problems for another day.

Chapter Text

A speeding beast of rubber and metal, the Morningstar family limousine screeched around a corner. Lesser vehicles swerved to clear its path as the long vehicle swerved in and out of traffic with surprising agility for its stretched frame. After tearing its way across Pentagram City (and leaving several accidents in its fiery wake) the brakes screamed to life, the vehicle drifting dramatically before it came to a sudden halt perfectly parallel parked in front of the Archeron shopping mall.

Almost as soon as the vehicle came to a full stop, one of its doors sprang open as a white skinned angel sprinted out of it. Desperately covering her mouth, Lute barely managed to reach a nearby trashcan and tear the cover off it before she began to violently empty the contents of her stomach. Charlie stumbled out of the car, better off than Lute but still a little unsteady. She, at least, had the benefit of being used to Hell’s traffic even if this hadn't been a particularly normal drive.

It had, at least, been an educational one. Vaggie was habitually tight-lipped about Heaven, not that she was actively trying to hide her knowledge on the subject anymore, it was simply that she tended not to speak of it unless asked directly. Lute, however, was much more likely to offer up her thoughts on the differences between Heaven and Hell without being prompted. It made for interesting conversation. For example, from this one ride across town alone, Charlie had learned the following new information.

One, due to the fact that the majority of Heaven's residents were capable of flight, personal vehicles were very rare. The few motorized vehicles in Heaven were either dedicated to public transportation, delivery of bulk goods across distances, sporting events, and a handful were maintained by residents as passion projects.

Two, due to this rarity and the lack of necessity, neither Lute nor Vaggie had ever ridden in a car of any variety before coming to Hell.

Three, apparently, Lute gets carsick.

Four, despite the fact that Razzle had resolved to no longer try to physically assault Lute and was giving her a chance, the little goat was not above fucking with her . No sooner had the little chauffeur overheard Lute complain of feeling nauseous from the new mode of transportation, Razzle immediately shifted gears and started ripping through Pentagram City with the speed and intensity of a drag racer running from a debt collector. Charlie was just thankful that the angel managed to hold it in until they stopped, if only barely.

“Sorry Lute, I swear Razzle doesn't normally drive like that.” Leaning down, Charlie offered her hand to help Vaggie out of the limo, who took it gladly. Like Charlie, Vaggie had fared fairly well, only a little disoriented by the experience.

“Pancakes were a bad idea, huh?” Vaggie says with a laugh, walking over to pat Lute on the back. The still heaving angel managed a ‘Heugh’ sound in response. It had been a day since the contract had been signed. Eager as they were to get the ball rolling, they'd needed a day to emotionally recover. Vaggie had kept it together pretty well during the meeting but there had definitely been a lot more tears when she got back to their room. As much as Vaggie was often a shoulder to cry on when Charlie got overwhelmed, Charlie had been more than happy to return the favor and let her angel vent, cry, and rewatch some of her favorite shows. Lute, upon being informed that they were saving any plans until tomorrow, politely excused herself to her room and  didn't emerge until dinner many hours later. She played at being composed but looked rather red around the eyes. Emotional angels. 

Unpacking years of trauma did not necessarily make it go away, just made it a little easier to sort out. Lute and Vaggie would definitely still need time and there was still an air of tension between them, but they weren't avoiding each other anymore. Charlie was able to see an echo of the friendship they'd once shared. Especially now, as though Vaggie was clearly enjoying seeing Lute brought low by her upset stomach, she still handed her a handkerchief to clean her face off with.

Speaking of which, Charlie turned a disappointed glare over to the limo. Razzle, the mischievous little gremlin that he was, had floated out of the driver's side window to peek over the hood at Lute, a self satisfied little grin on his snout.

“That was mean. You know better.” Charlie chided, rolling her eyes when the demon goat tried to give her the innocent look.

“V-vindictive- guh… flying ass.” Lute managed, still leaning over the trashcan and struggling to regain a sense of composure. She put every once of wrath and fury into her body into a death glare, but Razzle only looked more smug.

“Baah.” Razzle responded, making Lute twitch with rage.

“I’ll remember this.” Lute threatened, a giggling Vaggie halfheartedly holding her back from assaulting Razzle when the goat stuck his tongue out at her.

Well, at least Lute seemed to have her energy back. Hard to tell if that was a good or bad thing. Charlie was just glad nobody was trying to tear each other's throats out… at least not with serious effort. Thank Hell for little miracles.

“Alright, alright. Let's not start anything in the parking lot please?” Charlie sighed and gestured for everyone to calm down before directing her attention back at the little goat. Razzle perked up, ready to receive orders. “We'll probably be here for 2 or 3 hours, but I'll text you when we're ready to get picked up, sounds good?”

Razzle gave Charlie a sharp little salute before flipping around and flying back into the limo. A moment later, the vehicle set off at a much more sedate pace now that wasn't being used to torture Lute. Charlie really hoped this wasn't going to be a pattern but somehow sensed it would be.

“How did that little cretin even learn how to drive like that?” seemingly mostly recovered from emptying her guts, Lute wiped her mouth with Vaggie’s handkerchief and offered it back to her. Vaggie just looked at it for a second, then flicked it into the trash can. Yeah, that was fair

“Well, Razzle and Dazzle have been driving me around for centuries. They’ve uhm… had the practice.” Charlie trailed off, avoiding looking at Lute at the mention of Dazzle, that was still a black mark hanging between them and not easily settled. Lute at least had the decency to look ashamed. After an awkward moment and a cough, Charlie tried to brush over the moment. “I’ve never been able to prove it, but I swear Razzle takes the limo out for drag racing at night or something.”

“That’s something I’d pay to see.” Vaggie commented, tactfully choosing to avoid lingering on the topic. “Well, now that we’re out of the deathtrap, I’m going to leave you two to it.” Vaggie flashed out her wings, giving them a little test flap. Charlie would never get tired of seeing those beautiful silver gray feathers. She was already so used to them, they seemed a lot better fitting than the brief image she had seen of Vaggie with the white and black exorcist wings.

“You’re heading off?” Lute asked, trying to hide the way she eyed Vaggie’s wings with a hint of jealousy. “Is it safe for you to be wandering around the city alone?”

“I’ve traveled around on my own plenty, I can handle myself fine. Mostly just wanted to take the ride here to save some fly time. We have a lot of things to get done today, so divide and conquer is the best option. Charlie is going to help you get a few things in there, I have a few errands to run and will be back in an hour or so. Can I trust you to behave?”

“Of course, ma’am.” Lute answered automatically, snapping to attention as if she hadn’t just been spilling her guts into the trash.

“Atta girl.” nodding in satisfaction, Vaggie leaned up to give Charlie a quick kiss on the cheek as she turned away. Giving a last ‘I’m watching you’ gesture at Lute, she spread her wings and shot off into the sky. For only having her wings back for a month, Vaggie was already flying like she’d never stopped. Charlie and Lute watched her for a beat, mostly to make sure that no Sinners were going to attempt to take a lucky shot off at her, despite Vaggie’s claims to be able to handle herself. Still, eventually she disappeared over the rooftops. She’d be back soon with a package in tow, if nothing went wrong. Big ask some of the time, but Charlie was on a roll recently.

“... Wait a minute, if neither of you ever rode in a car before, why did Vaggie never get carsick?” Charlie asked, moving towards the mall and gesturing for Lute to follow. The angel followed along at an obedient march. Normally, Charlie might take the stiff formality Lute displayed to be a sign of discomfort or stress in other people but she was learning that Lute worked backwards. Overly formal and militaristic behavior was a sign of a relaxed Lute, whereas any amount of slouching or the slightest bit of dishevelment was a sign of an unhappy Lute. Bizarre woman.

“Vaggie and I have different skillets, your Highness. Vaggie was- is something of an aerial acrobat.” Lute corrected herself quickly. “an exceptionally quick flier and aerial acrobat. I assume some amount of being used to such quick maneuvering in the air translated to a stronger stomach. Loathe as I am to admit my own faults, I am comparably sluggish in the air… or rather… was. ”

Yeeouch. Already treading careful ground. Lots of fresh wounds. So much has happened, it was hard to remember how quickly it had all happened. It hadn't even been two full months since the last Extermination and already the situation was radically different. It felt like it had been much, much longer.

“I suppose… you can't be that much of a slouch in the air, Angel told me you were dodging bullets pretty handily.” Charlie commented, keeping the conversation going rather than letting Lute stew on her recent loss of limb. 

“I did say ‘comparably’, I was only barely able to keep ahead of Angel's line of fire because he isn't well suited to that particular weapon.”

“Not well suited? Angel loves his tommy guns.” Charlie paused, noting a vending machine near the entrance to the mall. She quickly put in some cash to retrieve a water bottle and handed it off to Lute. “To wash the taste out, barfing sucks.”

“Ah, thank you, ma’am.” Lute definitely had the look like she might have been fine to suffer in silence, but accepted the offered drink. As Lute grabbed it, Charlie suddenly realized the potential issue of handing a still sealed water bottle to a one armed woman. Charlie was about to apologize and offer to open it, but Lute apparently didn't need help. She simply placed the cap between her teeth, twisted the bottle to unscrew it, drank from it and replaced the lid without spilling a drop. Charlie just blinked, rather impressed. Lute had apparently gotten quite proficient at doing things one handed. After a bit of swishing the water around, the angel swallowed and continued to speak. “His preference doesn't change the fact that he isn't well suited to the weapon. I have not studied firearms but I know enough basics to know that gun has more recoil than his thin frame can easily handle. The repeated recoil of sustained fire either means he has to hold the gun loosely and greatly sacrifice accuracy or he has to brace it against the side of his chest or shoulders. Doing the latter will likely result in significant bruising if not broken bones if he holds sustained fire for more than a few seconds. Ergo, he is either inaccurate or can only manage quick bursts. Fine against ground based targets, but I was able to fly or change direction faster than he could aim for. Easy enough to figure out.”

Charlie blinked, several times. The logic was sound, but not even 30 minutes ago, Charlie had to explain to Lute how a seatbelt worked. Yet now she was rambling off logical reasoning she must have put together within seconds during the middle of a chaotic fight. Lute really must have been built for a very specific purpose, one that she was very good at.

“Not to jump topics, your Highness… but are there drugs in that vending machine?” Lute’s question snapped Charlie out of her thoughts, making her glance back. Sure enough, the bottom half of the vending selection was dedicated entirely to different varieties of substances. Fentanyl, heroin, pot, and amusingly, Angel Dust. Charlie was so used to seeing such things as part of the selection, she often forgot that was probably a Hell only thing.

“Ah, yeah. Not my thing. It does kind of make me wonder why there are still dealers if you can get this stuff anywhere, Angel tells me that the stuff in the machines is apparently pretty low quality, so I guess that explains it.” Charlie shrugged.

“... I see.” Lute eyed the machine with obvious scorn. “It's no wonder Sinners have failed to redeem themselves before your intervention, what with how commonplace they make their temptations.” Lute’s voice held a clear note of disdain as she spoke.

For just a moment, Charlie could see the old Lute in that look on the angel’s face. The woman who saw Sinners as nothing but filth to be slaughtered. Charlie took a breath. She had to remind herself that despite all the progress they'd made, Lute was still in the process of changing, old habits and opinions died hard. 

“Let's just leave that for now and focus on what we came here to do,, yeah?” Charlie said, guiding Lute into the mall.

“Very well… you still haven't explained what is, ma’am.”

“Shopping!” Charlie announced, gesturing at the variety of stores in the building and there truly was quite a variety.

 While most of Hell had become fairly modernized, it was still a place full of people of many cultures and time periods. In few places was that more evident than its shopping centers. The lack of building codes that anyone would bother to follow typically meant that anyone who could afford to rent a space would decorate it however they desired and sell whatever they wanted without regard to the stores around them. The result was quite chaotic, looking like a modern mall, a Renaissance faire and a Middle Eastern Bazaar had all collided at high speed and no one had been able to untangle the remains. Modern tech stores selling the latest Voxtech products shared space with medieval forges and silk merchants. The quality of the goods were just as varied from genuine handmade goods to mass produced to knock offs and scams. One had to be careful shopping in a place like this, not just because of the pickpockets and aggressive shopkeepers either.

“Shopping.” Lute repeated, eyeing the chaos within the mall dubiously. No doubt she was used to a very different aesthetic. Charlie had seen a shopping mall in Heaven, and while it held the same wide variety that came with being run by humans across history the place had held a much more organized and uniform aesthetic. Likely they had like, design committees and stuff people actually listened to. “And what are we shopping for?”

“For you, duh.” Laughing, Charlie pulled out a small list from her pocket, glancing over it. “Since you're going to be living at the hotel, we need to get you some essentials. A phone, laptop if you need it, clothes, toiletries, that kind of thing. I'm sure you don't want to try surviving on those mini hotel bottles of shampoo and conditioner forever.”

“Well no but… clothes? Am I not to have a uniform?”

“No? The hotel doesn't have a uniform. Sinners come in all shapes and sizes, any uniforms would have to be custom designed per person, it would be a huge headache. Better to let the staff wear what they're comfortable with, as long as it's, you know, appropriate.” Charlie shrugged, focusing on trying to pick a clothes store that looked to have decent selection. She had no idea what Lute wore in her free time, better to give the girl options.

“If I don't have a uniform, how will people know I work for the hotel?” Lute asked with a note of… desperation? Charlie looked at her, confused at the tone.

“... We have custom badges and name tags on order, Lute. Whatever you want to wear is fine.” Charlie attempted to ease the growing look of stress in Lute's eyes, but weirdly only seemed to make it worse. Was she embarrassed about her fashion choices or something? Lute typically had a clean cut look about her, so Charlie doubted she would look that bad no matter what she decided to wear.

“Very well, ma’am.” Lute sighed, trudging along. You’d think she’d be more excited to get some clothes that actually fit rather than the borrowed clothes she’d been wearing. “Wait, ah, I haven’t been paid yet! Surely this should wait until I have money to buy my own things.”

“Oh, our appointment to get you set up at the bank isn’t until later today, figured you’d want to be all dressed up and presentable before we went anywhere like that. I’ll be happy to buy you whatever you need, consider it my thank you gift for joining the staff. Money is no object, so you can get whatever you like.” Charlie gave Lute a big thumbs up and one of her trademark grins.

“Ah. How considerate of you.” Lute managed a response with a halfhearted grin  of her own.

Charlie led Lute into a store  that seemed to have a decent balance of variety and quality and let Lute take the lead from there… or rather, tried to let Lute take the lead. Lute just kind of ambled aimlessly around through the various racks of clothing with a troubled expression, stopping occasionally to look at something and maybe feel the fabric before grimacing and moving on. After about 5 minutes of this, Charlie didn’t want to say she was getting impatient but… well.

“You know, Lute, if you don’t like this store, there are other options. I mean, if you’re looking for something more modern, there’s a store across the way. More dated fashion choices are a bit farther in and we can always-” Charlie tried to suggest but was quickly cut off.

“No no, ma’am. This store is fine. It’s fine. I can work with this.” Lute said a little too quickly, glancing around at the clothes again. Her hand was making an odd twitching motion as she looked across the selection, but finally seemed to come to some internal conclusion, rushing off to grab a few various articles before disappearing into the dressing room.

Odd woman. Shrugging, Charlie settled onto a small bench near the dressing room, waiting for Lute to get changed. Maybe she had expected this trip to go a little smoother, but they still had plenty of time before Vaggie got back. They could get Lute’s fashion choices settled and get onto grabbing the essentials. If only one could pull off a shopping montage in real life. Lute would probably take a bit to get dressed, working one handed and all (any offers of help were bound to be rebuffed), so Charlie settled out to mindlessly scroll on her phone for a bit… and immediately saw that she had apparently gotten a text.

Seviathan: Charlotte dear, your last message was rather terse but I’m willing to be the bigger person and forgive. Honestly, doing this over text is so tedious, you should come down to Envy for a night, we can reconnect and talk this out of dinner at the Lair.

Charlie’s eye twitched a bit. Of course, why shouldn’t she expect a text from him to ruin her day… Though, maybe she was being a bit standoffish. Not that he’d ever apologized for how their last fight went or anything, but Charlie had moved on with her life, no reason Sev couldn’t either. It had been years now, Charlie was definitely still angry at him for the things he said and the way he had mocked her dreams back then but she was in the redemption and forgiveness business. Aside from just being boyfriend and girlfriend, they had been friends once, maybe they could have that again if Sev could stop being a prick for 10 minutes.

Charlie: I’d have to talk to my girlfriend about it. If she wants to come, then maybe we can have dinner and reconnect as friends.

Hopefully that got the message across.

Seviathan: Well, if you want to drag along that Angel pet of yours for a threesome, then I’m not opposed-

Charlie didn’t even finish reading the message before she clicked the phone off. It was with great effort that Charlie managed to keep her horns in and her phone in one piece. She’d already had to replace it twice this year and re-downloading all her apps was a pain. Her attempted hint had gone right over his head and imagining him imagining touching Vaggie made her skin crawl. It didn't feel right, not with him.

“Princess?” Lute’s voice caught Charlie’s attention, drawing her away from looking at the darkened phone screen. Lute must have finished chang… ing… hmm.

“Ah, Lute… that is… a look.” Charlie observed, thoughts of her shitty Ex quickly forgotten as she took into Lute’s appearance. The angel had picked out a dark gray long sleeved minidress, black leggings, white boots, and a white glove. All she needed was a chain mail collar and it would be the perfect off brand Exorcist outfit. “Now, I know I came into this with a ‘no wrong answers’ attitude but are you… uhm… committed to that look?”

“You don’t like it.” Lute observed, shifting a bit awkwardly under Charlie’s gaze.

“Weeeell, I mean, its not that I don’t exactly like it. You looked fine in your old uniform, sure but it's just, well, I’m not sure about the message it sends.” Charlie gestured vaguely. “I mean, it's already going to be a thing having two former Exorcists in the hotel, but we expected that and people will know so they can handle it but also it might be a bit different if you’re still… dressing like one.”

“Ah, I can see how that might cause some distress for residents.” Lute nodded, looking contemplatively out at the clothing racks again.

“Yes! So, maybe let's try a different color scheme or something? Like, what did you used to wear back in Heaven?”

“... My uniform.”

“I meant when you were off duty.”

“My uniform.”

“Hmm.” Charlie bit her thumbnail as she looked down at Lute, she was starting to see the problem here. “Lute, did you own any clothes other than your uniform?”

“Only my PT gear and night clothes, both of which were Exorcist army standard issue.” Lute explained, still shifting awkwardly and absently tugging at the edge of her minidress. 

“Okay.” Pinching the bridge of her nose. Charlie now understood why Lute had seemed so uncomfortable at the idea of shopping. Lute was apparently suffering something akin to choice paralysis. Living in uniform for centuries, she’d never needed to pick her own clothes so she didn’t know what to do when given total freedom of choice. That’s why she’d been asking about uniforms, she’d practically been asking Charlie to pick for her. “Let’s try this again. Lute. Do you actually like how the Exorcist uniform looks?”

“It's fine. Functional.” Lute responded a little too quickly. Vaggie was right, Lute was a terrible liar.

“Lute, you can be honest with me, I'm definitely not going to get mad if you complain about your old uniform.” Charlie tried, but Lute still looked hesitant to speak. There needed to be a different approach. What would get Lute talking? Charlie smacked her fist into her palm as she got an idea. “You've fought in that uniform for hundreds of years, surely you must have some thoughts on how it could be more combat effective.”

“... More chainmail?”

“Maybe we can invest in armor for emergencies, but for now let's dial it back. Daily wear.”

That finally set Lute thinking, her brow furrowed in concentration. Note to future Charlie, framing things through combat might help when dealing with Lute in the future. Lute again shifted her weight from foot to foot and she moved her arm back and forth, testing how well she was able to move in the mock Exorcist uniform.

“It can be… a little restricting.” She admitted at last, reaching down to pluck at the material of the over the knee boots. “The boots and gloves being so long can occasionally impair movement… and the heels are a little high. Something sturdier might be preferable.”

“Okay, shorter gloves and boots is a start.”

“I can get a little frustrated with how the dress hugs my hips, but there is nothing to be done about that.” Lute shrugged. “I suppose I've been spoiled by wearing men's trousers.”

“... Lute, you don't have to wear a dress or a skirt if you’d rather wear pants”

“Is that allowed?” She looked genuinely confused. Charlie knew Lute was old fashioned but women wearing pants had been pretty normalized over the last few decades.

“Of course it's allowed, I’m wearing pants.” Charlie explained, gesturing down at her own pants.

“With a skirt. Vaggie still wears skirts. I thought all women at the hotel wore them as some kind of dress code.” 

“Vaggie wears them because she likes them.” Charlie explained, but left out her secondary thoughts about how skirts made Vaggie's butt look fantastic. Hardly polite conversation. “We don't have a dress code, I already said that. I mean, yes, I am wearing a skirt and Niffty wears a dress but Cherri… well no she wears a miniskirt over her leggings. Huh. We all wear skirts, never really thought about that. Anyway, as much of an odd coincidence that may be, it's not required. If you want to try out wearing pants, that's perfectly fine.”

“... If that's permissible, ma,am.” Lute looked skeptical but a little more eager about trying to find some new clothes. 

With this in mind, they tried a few more outfits and the process became a lot smoother once Lute learned it was okay to speak her mind. Granted, her fashion choices weren't suddenly inspired but she at least shifted away from mimicking the Exorcist uniform. Granted, instead she seemed to be trying to recreate a better version of the borrowed clothes she'd been wearing, but she looked pretty good in red and black so Charlie wasn't going to complain. 

After assembling an armful of outfits to try on, Lute went back into the dressing room and Charlie back to the bench to wait. Still, she didn't pull out her phone this time, the trouble Lute seemed to have with making decisions had her mind occupied. Vaggie hadn't had the same troubles, she'd been perfectly fine with picking her own clothes. What was the difference? She glanced at the curtain separating her from Lute.

“Hey Lute?” She asked.

“Yes, Princess?”

“Can I ask you a difficult question?” 

“You tend to have a habit of doing that, but it is your prerogative to do so.” Lute answered.

“Hah, yeah, I guess I have given you some toughies.” Charlie remembered her and Lute's last solo talk, it had been rough on the angel. “This question is kinda related. It's just, when we were talking after your fight with Razzle, you mentioned that you don't have free will in ‘the same way’ that mortals do. I was hoping you could expand on that, I admit I don't really get it. I mean, I'm not mortal but I have free will.”

There was a beat of silence and the lack of rustling clothes indicated that Lute had paused, likely to think. After a few seconds, she responded.

“I suppose it would be hard to grasp from an outside perspective. To say mortals, I more meant humans though you are at least partially human… hmm. How to explain?” The sound of fabric shifting continued as Lute thought about how to answer. “I assume you had an at least somewhat normal childhood?”

“As normal as a demon princess in Hell can have.” Charlie giggled at the absurdity of that statement. Her life sounded a bit silly when you framed it like that.

“What I meant to say is you were born as an infant, grew up, got an education, that kind of thing.”

“Yeah, obviously.” Charlie’s father was definitely not going to let her forget being his little girl, what with how ready and willing he was to pull out the baby photos.

“You learned new things, likely explored several interests, your life has always known change. I suspect that had I met you a century ago, you would be a very different person.” 

“That's an understatement.” Charlie laughed awkwardly, remembering some of her many phases. Her party girl phase or her emo phase being particularly unfortunate periods of her life that she wanted to forget.

“Then that is where we differ, Princess. I came into being fully forged. From the moment I opened my eyes, I knew who I was and my purpose. I was a soldier, I spoke English and French, my favorite food was venison, etcetera. My body was strong and that strength was meant to defend those who were not. There was no point in learning how to read, write, or do maths, I simply already knew.  Everything I am was established at the moment of my creation, I didn't need to choose any of it and in two and a half centuries I have felt very little compulsion to change any of it.” Lute explained.

Charlie considered that, frowning. It was a little hard to grasp. The idea of just waking up one day and knowing who and what you are was… strange. At the same time, she had never imagined the opposite, how strange the idea of a childhood must be to someone like Lute. Charlie’s life and experiences had shaped her into the person she was today and would continue to do so, but Lute and Vaggie hadn't had that. Sure, in the past few years, their lives had changed dramatically but that was in large part due to pressure from outside forces. Had it not been for the extreme circumstances of the last few years, they would likely both still be her enemies and remain so no matter how hard she argued.

“I mean, I guess that explains some things. Is that why you struggle with making decisions? Vaggie never seemed to have that issue.” Charlie asked, earning an extended sigh from the Angel.

“Loathe as I am to admit my faults, yes, I do… On occasion I struggle with decisions. I was made to be a soldier, to follow orders and defer to authority. It's simply my nature, I crave order and structure. Vaggie existed to be a tactician, part of her job was to make decisions, thus it comes more naturally to her. This does not mean she is immune to flaw, she hates improvising and acting without a plan, she is not inclined to take the lead but rather advise the leader. Such things are unlikely to change.”

“But you guys can change, both of you had to or else you wouldn't be here.” Charlie pointed out.

“Yes, it would seem we can but not without either considerable time or extreme circumstances. For example, Vaggie may have never held the same fervor I did towards Exterminations, may have questioned how they were carried out but she understood them to be necessary just as I did. Orders were orders, neither of us were inclined to question it. It took Vaggie over 150 years to finally break those orders… That likely sounds like a condemnation to you, but I do not mean it as such. In truth, it had to have been a significant act of willpower to inspire her single act of mercy, something I was never capable of. Now that I'm not spending my every waking moment trying to vilify it, I can actually admire her for it.”

While Charlie wasn't exactly a fan of reminders of Vaggie's deeds as an Exorcist, Lute's explanation did put her actions in a new light. Going against what she had been told and recognizing Sinners as being deserving of mercy had been like pulling teeth for Lute and required extreme pressure to force her to it, the fact that Vaggie had gone against that same programming entirely on her own was actually fairly significant. As she thought about this, Lute continued speaking.

“Nonetheless, while the details might be able to change, I sincerely doubt the core of our identities will. The cause I serve may have changed, but I am still serving that cause as a soldier. Or security guard, which is close enough for now.” 

“For now?” Charlie turned to look at the curtain again, feeling confused. “What do you mean for now? I… uh… kinda thought you'd be with us for the long term.” Had Lute suddenly made plans of her own? That seemed unlikely given what they had just talked about.

Lute suddenly pulled open the curtain a crack to peek out at Charlie, and in turn Charlie got a view of her exposed bare shoulder. She tried not to linger on it.

“Your majesty, while I have come to see your goal of running the hotel as something worthwhile and serving there will ease my own guilt… it's not going to be forever.” Lute stated, looking serious.

“What? Why wouldn't it be?”

“Because you are the princess. While I doubt it will be anytime soon, one day you will be called to ascend the throne and rule as Queen . Do you really think you will have time to run the hotel while you are responsible for the whole of Hell?” The question shook Charlie. 

“I… uh. I don't know? I’ve always known one day I am going to rule, but I've never really considered what that might mean for the hotel. I mean, we’ve barely gotten it started, only had technically one successful redemption.” Charlie bit her thumb, trying to think through all the implications. 

“It's no immediate concern, I doubt your father would be willing to give up his throne anytime in the next few decades. By then, I imagine you will have the hotel down to a science, hire enough staff to run it without you and so on. After which you will become Queen of Hell, Vaggie by your side as consort, while personally I think ‘Royal Guard’ or something of that nature would be suitable for me.” Lute dropped the curtain with a shrug, resuming getting changed.

“Still not sure how I feel about calling Vaggie my ‘consort’.” Charlie said. Lute did have a point, she seriously doubted her dad planned to give up the throne anytime soon. She had time to get things sorted. If she really thought about it, the hotel was kind of the first step towards greater change. While she had said that she didn't want to be a controlling ruler, she could still use what she learned from running the hotel to affect change for the rest of Hell. Also it was interesting that Lute was already thinking about sticking with them and serving her in the long term.

… Though, given this conversation, it rather seemed Lute was also incapable of imagining anything else. Not like she'd suddenly develop an interest in farming.

“Technically, as Queen, you will have the authority to determine the terminology.” Lute said, pulling back the curtains fully this time and… wow. 

Charlie had initially thought the clothes that Lute picked out to be kind of plain, but Lute wore them well. Sturdy leather boots, well fitted black pants, a red button up the same color as Charlie’s suit, rolled up sleeve to show off her forearm, and a darker red vest to give it a more formal and professional look. It was radically different from Lute’s old uniform and kind of butch, but Charlie thought it really suited her. Lute stepped out of the changing room a bit more confident in her stride. Shifting her weight from foot to foot again, testing how well she could move and how the boots felt, even jumping up and down a few times. Lute went through a full range of motions to test the new outfit, finally finishing it off by twisting to fire off a kick with the force of a gunshot. Based on the way she smiled, Lute seemed satisfied with her new look.

“What do you think, ma’am?” she asked, returning to attention as if she was waiting for a full inspection.

“I like it, stylish, professional, good color… there’s just something… missing.” Charlie hummed, looking over the outfit. It really was a good look. Lute had buttoned the collar all the way up and she didn’t seem the type to ever leave it unbuttoned so the area invited some kind of accessory. Charlie’s first thought was a bowtie, but she couldn’t imagine it on Lute. “Just wait a second, I know exactly what this needs!” 

It only took a second of searching, but soon she found exactly what she was looking for. A bright red silk tie. When she presented it to Lute, the woman eyed it skeptically.

“I don’t know how to… tie a tie” she commented.

“You’ll learn, but for now, I can do it if you’ll let me.” Charlie offered, getting a nod of assent. Flipping up Lute’s collar, she looped the fabric around and set to tying a simple half Windsor knot. Nothing too fancy. The task had her rather close to Lute in a way they hadn’t really been before and it might have been her imagination or was that a touch of a blush on Lute’s face? Surely not. Charlie pulled the knot closed, tight but not too tight. Didn’t want to repeat a certain recent incident. “There, now it's perfect.”

Lute turned to inspect herself in the mirror, running her fingers over the silk tie as she contemplated her new appearance. She inspected herself at a few different angels but finally nodded her approval.

“I think I could get used to this.”

—

The clothes were bought and paid for, along with a few changes of clothes that were basically copies of the same outfit, thankfully they let Lute wear her new clothes out of the store. Though Lute had seemed hesitant on buying clothes to begin with, she seemed in a much better mood all dressed up in her new duds. Charlie certainly didn’t mind the view, it was good to see her look so confident.

The shopping that followed wasn’t quite as difficult or thought provoking. In part, that was likely due to the fact that Lute actually had a good excuse to lean on Charlie’s judgment when buying things. She was new down here and unfamiliar with which brands were quality.  The only thing Lute ended up choosing for herself were a pair of red fingerless gloves in the window of a shady looking shop. They were designed in the fashion that one might use for boxing but definitely wouldn’t be tournament legal due to the trio of black steel plates across the knuckles, back of the hand and wrist, which would probably do some rather unfortunate things to a person’s face. Lute wanted something to give her already impressive punches a bit more weight and Charlie conceded that it was probably good for Lute to invest in a slightly less lethal option… unfortunately they did have to buy both gloves despite the fact Lute only needed the one. Oh well, she would have back ups if any of the plates ever got too damaged. In short order, they managed to get everything else on the list and were really just wandering around until Vaggie returned from her errands. Charlie was carrying the bags for now, something that Lute had originally protested but eventually gave in when she realized it was difficult to carry the variety of bags one handed. She’d been pacified when Charlie reminded her that it would be better for Lute to have her hand free and remain alert since she was acting as Charlie’s temporary bodyguard.

As they walked, Charlie considered the food court. She would usually prefer to eat somewhere a bit nicer, but she wasn’t above mall food. Maybe they could at least occupy a table while they waited?

“Miss Morningstar.” Lute’s voice caught her attention. Charlie repressed a sigh. Lute had explained several times the reason for her over the top formality, but was it really that hard to just call her Charlie?

“What’s on your mind, Lute?”

“I wanted to inquire about rules of engagement.” Lute said, eyes forward and seeing very serious. Charlie wasn’t sure how the woman said it with a straight face.

“Lute… I mean, I’m flattered but we barely know each other. I-i mean, unless you’re talking about rules for me and Vaggie’s engagement? I guess as her former friend, you have a right to bring it up but I don’t know if I’m ready for that conversation.” Charlie managed, feeling her face warm up.

“What are you- god damn it.” Lute’s face took on a hint of gold as well but she pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. “Rules of engagement meaning rules of engagement with the enemy. It's not my place to advise you on how to propose. I am talking about what you do and don't allow in regards to dealing with threats .” she growled.

“O-oh. Right. Of course, I knew that. Just joshin’ ya. Hahah…” Charlie did her best to laugh it off but she could admit it wasn’t exactly a flawless coverup. “Right, I mean. As for dealing with threats, I don’t really deal with a lot of trouble in Pentagram City. Most people know who I am and it's been like… decades since someone tried to kidnap and ransom me. The smoking crater my mom left kinda soured people on the idea. Might be different with new arrivals who don’t know what’s up or in the other rings where the politics are a bit weird. Not really something to worry about for now.”

“Humor me, ma’am.” Lute had recovered better from the awkward moment, taking on that very serious expression again.

“Fine, if you insist… I don’t know. This would be more of a Vaggie question. Bottom line, I would really prefer you didn’t kill anyone unless you really had to. Well, final death is more the concern, most Sinners can get over a temporary death. Not that I’m encouraging that!... but it happens, some people are stubborn.” Charlie really didn’t enjoy this conversation. She didn’t like violence but she was in Hell and sometimes people committed to really dumb decisions. “Case by case basis, I guess. Appropriate and reasonable response to whatever situation you encounter… or just, ask me before you do anything?”

“Very well. Hypothetically speaking, what would be the appropriate and reasonable response to someone that has been stalking you with possible intent to harm?”

“Weirdly specific… I guess, maybe just bonk them and see if you can actually prove if they planned to hurt me?” Charlie shrugged.

“Very well. One moment, ma’am.” Lute said. In one fluid motion, she stepped to the side and grabbed one of those plastic trays people use for their food off the top of a nearby trash can, then frisbeed it behind her. Charlie was too stunned to react, eyes just following the speeding tray until it cracked across the forehead of a seemingly random Sinner in the crowd, knocking him on his ass.

“Lute, What the fuck!? ” Charlie yelled, but Lute ignored her. The Angel sprinted across the distance towards the poor man, pinning one of his arms down with her boot as she stood over the man. He was a rat of a man, quite literally, dressed in dirty clothes and had just gained a rather nasty bump on his head. He didn’t look that threatening at all. Just as Charlie moved forward to stop Lute, the angel grabbed the man’s other hand that had been hidden in his jacket and yanked it out, revealing that his fingers were wrapped around the handle of a gun. Lute let out a surprisingly bestial growl as she gripped the man’s wrist with crushing force until he was forced to drop the gun and let it clatter to the ground. Shit.

“This filth has been following us for the last five minutes.” Lute snarled, shifting her grip to hold him by the collar, forcing his face to hers. The man’s eyes stopped rolling in his skull as he recognized that he had gone from the Hunter to the hunted. 

“Lute, stop! Please! There is no need to hurt him!” Charlie dropped the bags, trying to grab at Lute’s shoulder. She actually flinched back when Lute’s head snapped to look at her, her gold eyes glowing with violent intent.

“He had a gun. He was trying to hurt you. I can’t allow that.” Lute’s voice was distressingly level, Charlie knew she had killed for less. She had to act quick.

“Lute, listen to me. I doubt he wanted to hurt us. He’s probably a recent arrival, doesn’t know who I am. Saw me throwing around a lot of cash, just wanted to use the gun to scare us and get some cash.” wehile Lute was laser focused on the restrained Sinner, Charlie had picked up the gun. Now that she had Lute’s attention on her again, she pulled back the slide to show it was unloaded, and didn't even have a magazine in it. “See? Completely harmless. Honestly, a gun like this wouldn’t even hurt me that bad.”

The rat man’s eyes shifted from Lute to Charlie, looking very confused. Charlie just gave him a look to tell him to play along. He nodded sharply.

“Y-yah, I swear. J-just short on cash was all. Tryin’ ta spook ya, get ya wallet or purse or whateva, that’s it! Uh, sounds bad, sure, but didn’t mean no harm, honest!” The Sinner held up his freed hand, doing his best to not set off Lute’s hairpin trigger.

“... Am I just to excuse such wretched behavior?” The angel was still pinning him down but seemed to relax considerably when she recognized the man was no threat.

“You will if I tell you to… right?” Charlie said it as more of a question than a statement. Lute’s intense gaze held on her for a few more seconds, fist tightening on the man’s collar… but the glow left her eyes as she forced herself to relax.

“Very well, ma’am.” Lute spoke through gritted teeth, clearly reluctant but she did let the man go. She did so in a way that made the man’s head fall back and crack off the floor. A bump on the front and the back of the head was punishment enough for trying to mug them in Charlie’s opinion. Lute snatched the gun out of Charlie’s hand, giving it a last suspicious look and a glare at the very apologetic looking Sinner. Maintaining eye contact with him, Lute’s fist tightened around the barrel of the gun, the muscles in her forearm tightening until the metal barrel crunched in her grip. She dropped the now useless piece of junk to the ground next to the head of the now very terrified Sinner. She stepped off him, backing up to stand behind Charlie. A glance from her was enough to disperse the gathering crowd, who all suddenly seemed very interested in checking their phones or walking away.

Charlie heaved a relieved sigh, glad that disaster had been avoided. That had been too close. Nice to know Lute was taking her job seriously, though she might have to have a talk about how seriously Lute was taking the job with Vaggie. She looked down at the petrified rat man, doing her best to plaster on a small smile as she held out her hand to help him up.

“Sorry about that, what’s your name?” Charlie asked. The Sinner looked cautiously at Charlie, then at Lute, and then at Charlie’s hand. After a beat, he took her hand and Charlie helped him stand.

“Uh… Name’s Albert… Uh, sorry? About tryin’ ta mug you?”

“Nice to meet you, Albert. I’m guessing you’re something of a recent arrival down here?” Charlie asked, getting a nod. “I’m Charlie. Charlie Morningstar.”

“Morningstar?... wait… Shit. ” he was confused at first, but then horrified realization dawned on his face as he stumbled back a step. 

“Yeeeah, that Morningstar. Don’t worry, dad’s not as bad as everyone thinks. Neither am I, I swear.”

“Oh shit… Shit. Fuck. Shit. He’s real?” Albert asked and Charlie nodded. “And you’re his daughter?... and I tried to mug ya? Fuck me runnin’.” 

“Nobody really got hurt, mistakes happen. You’re new and probably struggling to adjust, you just needed money. I get it… There are still better ways to get it though, not everyone is as forgiving as me.” Charlie warned him and he gave a quick nod. The man was practically shaking over being threatened by Lute and figuring out who Charlie was. New arrives usually had a rough time adjusting as there was something of a learning curve when adjusting to life in Hell. Charlie didn’t know what this man had done to get down here, but he really didn’t seem like that bad of a guy, just confused and desperate. She fished out her wallet and handed him a small handful of bills, much to his surprise. “Here, just enough to help you get your feet on the ground so you don’t have to keep up with the mugging thing. Life can be hard down here, but it gets better if we help each other out.”

“Uh… that… that’s mighty generous of ya… considering I tried to… y’know.” Albert mumbled, staring at the cash in his hand.

“It happens, just, don’t try it again or my friend might snap. Albert, I’m sure you’ll figure things out with some time, but if you ever want to try to change your ways and reverse your judgment, my Hazbin Hotel opens up on monday. We can help you.” Charlie offered, plucking out a business card and holding it out to him. Albert got a contemplative look on his face, looking down at the crumpled gun and then to the card for a few seconds.

“I’ll… uhm, think about it.” Albert mumbled, taking the card. He shoved it and the cash in his pocket before turning away, leaving the gun behind without looking back.

Lute and Charlie watched him go, Charlie feeling like she’d made the best of a near disastrous situation. Lute didn’t seem as convinced, glaring after the man before turning her look towards Charlie.

“You are entirely too forgiving.” she said at last.

“I suppose I am, but some people just need a chance to see that there is a better option.” Charlie gave Lute a little nudge with her elbow. “You’d know how that works.” Lute opened her mouth to protest, but just shut it with a click. Grumbling, she walked off to gather up the bags that Charlie dropped when she ran to intervene. Charlie watched Lute for a second, the angel had been very intent on protecting her but that look in her eyes had been downright frightening. She’d have to keep an eye on that. 

Before Charlie went over to help Lute with the bags, she stepped by the nearest trashcan and quickly pulled out a single bullet and a fully loaded magazine out of her pocket. She glanced at the objects, bouncing it in her palm for a second before she stuffed it in the trash.

They did eventually settle in the food court, occupying a table towards the edge and waiting around. Chatting lightly until Charlie finally got a heads up message from Vaggie. Everything had gone well on her end and she’d be there shortly. Charlie hit her back with a big thumbs up and instructions on where to find them. Before long, Charlie was standing up from her seat to wave the other Angel over to their table as she forced her way through the crowd.

Vaggie smiled when she spotted Charlie, her usual frown immediately perking up into a soft smile. Altering her course, Vaggie made a beeline to their table, though her pace faltered when she took in Lute’s outfit, her eye widening in surprise.

“You… cleaned up nice.” Vaggie said, taking in the new look with interest. Quite a bit of interest actually.

“Glad you approve… Charlie helped me pick it out.” Lute admitted, meeting Vaggie’s gaze before they both looked away. 

There was a moment of something between them, Charlie wasn’t blind. That was… interesting. Definitely something she’d have to file away for further review.

“Right, so… I see shopping went well. Lute didn’t cause any problems?” Vaggie asked, settling down at the table.

“Nothing that didn’t get resolved quickly. Minor attempted mugging that Lute handled… maybe a bit more forcefully than necessary, but in the end, we might see a new face at the hotel soon!” Charlie explained with a smile, glossing over the details.

“That’s overly optimistic.” Lute said, grumpy as ever.

“I try my best.” Laughing, Charlie turned to Vaggie, feeling a touch of excitement. “So, how’d it go with Carmilla?”

“Just a casual visit, we had some tea and talked about a few things, gave me some tips on finding hidden cameras given what Angel mentioned about Vox. We really need to see if we can hire someone who’s good with computers to try to make sure our digital stuff is secure. I don’t know what Vox might do if he gets into our stuff but he seems clever enough to cause a problem if he feels like it.” Vaggie said, smirking a bit at Charlie’s impatient frown. Vaggie knew she got frustrated when she skipped around the point. Charlie wanted to see the thing she brought with her. “Annnd, Carmilla just so happened to be done with this. ”

Vaggie finally reached behind her, pulling out a long sleek black box about the length of her arm. Settling it on the table with a self satisfied look, she made to push it towards Lute, but the other angel bolted up and slammed her fist on the table with enough force to make Charlie and Vaggie jump.

“ Enough! How do you keep doing that!?” growling, Lute pointed an accusatory finger at the box, then to Vaggie. 

“... Doing… what?” Vaggie asked, extremely confused by Lute’s sudden outburst.

“Pulling things out of nowhere!” Lute yelled, slamming her fist on the table again. “You don’t carry any kind of bag or purse or even pockets! I’ve checked. Yet all the time you are pulling your spear out of nowhere, always seem to have some files on hand, or just casually handing off objects that you absolutely were not carrying before. Explain. Now.”

“I-i… uhm. I don’t-” Vaggie trailed off, more confused than before. “I just… pull them out of my… hair.” Confusion and a touch of concern entered Vaggie's expression, as if this was the first time that she realized she'd been doing it.

“But how? Things like that box or your spear are big enough that they'd stick out if they were just under your hair.” Lute continued, weirdly intent on this whole situation.

“I don't know!? I just… don't think about it? Same way I don't always think about breathing, it just happens. I don't even remember when I started doing it.”

“... Vaggie, that's not normal.” Lute's expression was shifting towards dawning horror and at this point Charlie had to step in.

“I mean, yeah, she does it all the time but it's not that weird. It's just like magical storage. Hammerspace, magic pockets, whatever you want to call it.” Charlie shrugged, she was more confused as to why Lute was so weird about it. Vaggie had been doing it for years. Personal storage abilities weren’t uncommon, usually one of the first few tricks young sorcerers learned because of how useful it was. Despite her trying to make sense of the situation, the concern on the angels faces did not change.

“That is impossible.” Lute stated simply.

“Charlie… Exorcists can't do magic. I shouldn't be able to do magic. ” Vaggie explained, nervously fiddling with a lock of her hair. Charlie still didn't get it.

“I've seen Lute summon her guitar with a wave of her hand and everyone who watched the fight said she was shooting off like… energy blasts and shit. That sounds pretty magical to me.” 

“That's all abilities of the guitar itself, not me. Exorcists are still angels, our souls give off a small amount of divine energy but we normally don't have any way to channel it. The guitar is enchanted so that it can draw on that energy to fuel its abilities. I don't make the magic, I'm merely using a tool with my soul as the battery.” Lute explained, gesturing first at herself, then gesturing towards a couple of Imps and a Hellhound walking nearby. “As much as I hate the comparison, I imagine lowborn demons work the same way. Their souls contain infernal energy and they can use infernal magical items, but if you were to do something like… drop a magic grimoire in their lap, they wouldn't suddenly be able to cast spells unless there was something special about them that made them magically inclined.”

Charlie thought about this with a frown. Lute did have a point. The ability to do magic was not universal among magical creatures, the vast majority of lowborn Imps and Hellhounds were incapable of it and couldn't even take human disguises unless given magical items to do so. She'd always been aware of Vaggie's habit of storing stuff in her hair but never really considered it worth mentioning… though she'd never seen Vaggie attempt any other kinds of spells? Vaggie hadn't even had long hair until she came to Hell, so maybe that was part of it.

“Okay, so Exorcists can't normally do magic, but neither of you are normal Exorcists anymore, right?” Charlie shrugged. The two angels just stared at her, blinked, then stared at each other like they hadn't considered that. “It's probably like… some kind of fallen angel puberty or something. Vaggie isn't the only one with some new quirk.”

“... I mean, Charlie has a point. Lute, the way you heal definitely isn't normal.” Vaggie observed, turning the conversation on Lute now.

“My recovery was decidedly faster than average, yes, I just assumed the Princess was using some kind of magical medicine to aid my recovery.” Lute tried to shrug it off but didn't look entirely convinced herself.

“Lute, I did use magical medicine to try to neutralize the damage done by a holy weapon, but healing from the kind of damage you took normally still takes a lot more than two weeks… especially if someone wrestled with a dragon halfway through it. Face it, you've got as much weird shit going on as Vaggie.” Charlie pointed out. 

“Huh.” Lute said, sitting back, both the angels looking rather distressed. Again, Charlie didn't get it. So what? They got some cool extra powers, no need to be freaked out about it. This was a good thing right? Lute's thing seemed like it would help make sure she stayed fighting fit and if Vaggie could do storage magic, she might be able to learn other spells. In Charlie's view of things, the perks were almost worth the price of admission.

“Let's… let's change the subject. We've gotten off topic.” Vaggie said, steering the conversation away from any changes to her and Lute, though she was definitely still fiddling with her hair. She patted the black box and slid it across the table towards Lute. “Lute, this is for you, had to run by Carmine Industries to pick it up.”

“Carmine… that's the name of the Overlord that manufactures weapons, yes? Husk mentioned her.” Lute eyed the box skeptically, but opened it after some hesitation. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the contents. “You're… giving this back to me?”

Laid neatly in the padded box was Lute's former mechanical arm. When they sent it off it had been a pile of barely functional scrap, but now it was perfectly restored and even polished. It was a wonder that she'd manage to fix it at all, Charlie half expected to just get a replacement of some kind sent back to them.

“Hard to have you defending the hotel one handed.” Vaggie laughed, tapping her knuckle against the polished steel. “Besides, as useful as that guitar is, it's definitely overkill for about 90% of the problems you'll be dealing with. So long as you use them responsibly, the claws are a good alternative.”

“I felt really bad about taking away your arm to start with. I mean, it was broken but leaving you without one was mean. I considered getting something from Uncle Ozzie, he makes amazing prosthetics but they aren't exactly… combat rated.” Charlie explained, Grimacing at the thought.

“Uncle Ozzie?” Lute stopped admiring the miraculously repaired prosthetic to tile her head in confusion.

“Asmodeus.” Vaggie informed, smirking as the realization of who exactly that was hit Lute's face. 

“Oh. Oh…. No. I don't think I would have been very accepting of something made by the Sin of Lust.” Lute coughed awkwardly, turning her focus back to the arm itself and trying to regain her more serious attitude. “... Thank you both. I know that what happened to me was… mostly my own fault and I can understand why you didn't trust me to be, uhm, fully armed after all the trouble I’ve caused. I promise to make myself worthy of the trust you've given me.”

“Alright, enough of the sappy stuff for one week. Let's get this on you, see how it works.”  Vaggie stood up, going over to help Lute get the arm on. It was a bit of an ungraceful affair, having to unpin Lute's rolled up left sleeve and push the arm up the sleeve. It would have been much easier to put on if Lute wasn't wearing the shirt, but it would be too much effort to have her go hide in a bathroom stall to undress and redress. Thankfully, Carmilla seemed to have made some magical modifications so it no longer needed the thick leather straps it used to have, it simply slid over Lute's shoulder and stuck there, silvery light spreading down the ingrained pattern down it's length.

The arm twitched to life, then began to move under Lute's control. It seemed to work magnificently considering the date it had been in. Lute seemed utterly entranced, making a motion of tapping each claw against her thumb in a repeating pattern.

“The delay is gone” she said with utter awe.

“What delay?” Charlie asked.

“Whenever I was using the arm before, there was a slight delay between thought and action. Maybe about half a second. It was rather frustrating, but now the movement is fluid. It's incredible.” Lute observed, eyes still glued to the new limb, moving it this way and that. Charlie just blinked several times. The idea of a tiny delay in movement on a limb seemed insignificant, but in a fight it had to be a huge drawback… and Lute had still managed to hurt Alastor? More impressive, As tough a fighter as Lute was, Vaggie had managed to beat her. 

They were an impressive pair. Charlie found herself smiling as she watched Lute and Vaggie talk. Lute seemed very eager to meet Carmilla and learn what kind of Sinner could possibly improve Heaven made enchantments, and Vaggie was recounting how the Overlord isn't exactly happy about meeting strangers. 

Charlie was rather surprised to find that she was starting to like Lute. Sure, despite everything the angel had done Charlie had been the first one willing to give her a chance, but that was something that Charlie made an effort to do for everyone. She still had her personal problems with Lute and those weren't going to disappear overnight. Lute could be gruff, stubborn, and way too eager to solve problems with excessive violence, but under it all she was starting to see the woman that Vaggie used to know. Someone who was steadfast, protective, and loyal (often to a fault). More importantly, Lute was someone who was genuinely trying to do better and make up for a lifetime of damage and what more could you ask for than that? 

—

Lute might have never considered shopping and basic errands to be a workout, but keeping up with the Princess’ rampant energy and pace had ended up wearing her out by the end of the day. Granted, most of that exhaustion came from the ride back to the hotel.

The evil little goat had decided to take it easy on Lute and not repeat the morning’s theatrics but Lute was still decidedly not a fan of cars as a method of transportation. The nausea had been blessedly mild, but it was paired with Charlie and Vaggie trying to explain to her the difference between debit and credit, which Lute thought surely must have been invented in Hell but Charlie swore up and down that they had nothing to do with it. It made for an unpleasant ride. By the end, Lute was dragging her feet as she made her way back into her room, dumping off a load of bags. It was going to take hours to sort through and she was thankful that she would have all day Sunday to deal with it before Monday's event. 

Rolling her shoulder, Lute sighed. It was good to have the arm back, she had been getting used to doing things one handed but at the same time it was good to have the option back. It made her feel more… complete. Not necessarily whole, but getting there. Whatever this Carmilla woman had done to the arm was a godsend, it worked even better than new and she sensed there had been some effort made to reduce the weight. It was still damn heavy but that was the price of being combat ready. Two weeks without the weight had her shoulder aching and she was tempted to get it off for the evening. Still, not quite yet.

Lute made her way into her room’s bathroom, looking towards the mirror. God… She looked so different. Even now it was still strange to see herself in the mirror without being framed by her wings, at times she felt her balance was off without the weight of them at her back. The new outfit was… certainly something. Much more color than she was used to. Charlie and Vaggie very much seemed to approve. Formal enough that it could pass as a uniform of some description, yet freeing enough that she could fight in. She was rather loving the new pants and boots. Not that she hated her old uniform or anything, but this was… well it was better for her work in the hotel. 

Most surprising of all, when she looked in the mirror, she had caught herself smiling. Despite Razzle's attempts at torture, today had been surprisingly good. She felt… good. That hadn't happened often since she came to Hell. Hadn't happened much in the last few months. Not since…

Lute tilted her head to the side. With the bathroom door open, the mirror reflected the room behind her, notably the golden guitar. It was leaned against the wall, untouched since she last called it to use while fighting Razzle. Even then, using it to block a fireball was the most she’d interacted with it since she came to the hotel. She’d had neither the ability nor the will to play it given the state of things.

Lute looked at her prosthetic hand, then at the guitar. Taking a breath, she walked over and picked it up. It somehow felt warm, even to her metal hand, almost like it missed her and had been waiting for her touch. 

She considered the guitar, Adam’s guitar… except, it wasn’t really his anymore. She still didn’t understand exactly how, but she had bonded with the item. Reached out to it in anger and desperation and for some reason, it had accepted her. Lute had never been granted the privilege of working with an angelic relic before this, but she had heard that the items could occasionally be… willful. They were inanimate tools, able to be picked up and used by almost anyone, but the act of bonding with one could occasionally be difficult, especially if it had been priorly bonded to a different master. For better or worse, the guitar was now hers.

Part of her wished it wasn’t. Wished it was still Adam’s guitar. It was the only thing she had left of him now. 

Moving over to settle down on the bed, Lute set her hands on the strings. They hummed softly at her touch, especially when the angelic steel claws settled on them. She hadn’t played in weeks, but she had ingrained the skill deep in her soul. Listened and practiced for countless hours. It had been something she shared with him. 

Lute began to play. Not hard and angry the way she had that first time she picked up the guitar. The notes were soft and gentle. Letting the music fill the room and the void in her heart. As before, first she played the way Adam had taught her. His way, his music. God… how she missed it. How it ached to know she’d never hear his music again. It was with great reluctance that she changed the music. The new way of playing she had stumbled on, first inspired by the faults of her prosthetic, a stumbling step in a new direction. Now, it was more surefooted. She could refine it into something truly new, truly her. 

The music changed and so had she. 

She still wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not but she couldn’t deny it. Harder still was denying that change sounded good. 

Tears dripped against the guitar’s gilded surface. She played on. Lute had been left alone and angry and scared. She had ruined her own life. Been cast down from on high, left behind in Hell. Lost nearly everything that made her an angel and now she was spending her time with the broken and the damned… yet, she got her friend back. She’d possibly made new ones. Been given new purpose, a new life, a future. It was all in its infancy and it felt a house of cards ready to fall at any moment… but could she be happy here? In Hell?

Was she allowed to be happy? Happy without him?

Lute knew why the others hated Adam. They had every right to… but she had loved him. She still loved him. A part of her would always love him. Even if he didn’t love her back, he had cared for her and that had been enough. If only things could be different. Maybe if she had stood up for Vaggie years ago and talked to him then or even just started listening to Charlie sooner. If she had been the one to try to convince him, maybe he would have listened… Maybe he would still be alive… But he was gone now. He was gone and he took a part of Lute’s heart with him. She’d let that wound fester and thought it would never heal but now the idea that it might heal was… terrifying. 

Not once in two and a half centuries had she imagined life without him, yet here it was laid out before her. Frightening and hopeful all at the same time. She was so afraid, yet she couldn’t sit around forever and mourn a dead man.

“I won't forget you… but I can’t live like this.” Lute said through tears as the last notes of the music fell away. “Please… please forgive me.”

Lute held the guitar… Her guitar, hugging it close to her chest and trying to find some comfort in its warmth and the memories it held. Tomorrow, she’d put together her new life and embrace it… but for tonight, just for a little longer, she was going to hold onto what was left of the old one.

Chapter Text

Lute could scarcely express just how good it felt to be working again. 

No more lying around feeling sorry for herself or just sitting around without a clear objective. She finally had something to keep her mind and body busy.

Aside from her personal duties of just maintaining security, the hotel was in full swing this morning. It was the grand opening after all and everyone was pitching in. Charlie herself was something of a mess, the woman often got panicky and nervous during situations like this. Lute remembered her fumbling through the meeting with Adam and during the first part of the trial. Not the best look for a leader, but the Princess had an uncanny ability to lock in when the chips were down and things got serious. The Princess had the potential to be a true leader, but she was still a little unpolished. Thankfully, Vaggie was there to help. Vaggie was used to this kind of situation, built for it technically. Organizing a handful of Sinners to make sure a hotel was ready for viewing was nothing compared to preparing an army of hundreds of Exorcists for an Extermination.

Despite knowing Vaggie was qualified for the task, Lute was still surprised at how well she handled it. While her opinion on Sinners was significantly improved, Lute still generally thought of them as an unruly and chaotic lot that barely even acknowledged authority… Yet the Sinners of the hotel seemed to jump to Vaggie's command and followed orders with minimal backtalk…. Well, everyone except a particular antlered exception. Husk, Angel, Cherri, and Niffty all certainly had their quirks but they seemed to have come to respect Vaggie even to listen to her orders when Charlie was too flustered to give her own. It was quite the sight.

Finding a lull in activity, Lute made her way over to the other angel as she was checking things off on her clipboard.

“How are we looking, ma’am?” Lute asked, beginning to walk alongside her. Referring to Vaggie as her superior was still a little odd, but she was getting used to it.

“Everything seems on schedule. Majority of the set up is done for the day. Husk is doing a last sweep of the bar, Niffty with doing some spot cleaning with Frank and Razzle, Angel and Cherri should be setting up the last of the decorations outside. Speaking of which, could you check on them-” Vaggie rattled off, eye focused on her clipboard but Lute had anticipated that last request.

“Just came back from an outside perimeter check. They're both fine and Cherri has yet to set anything on fire.” 

“Small miracles. Other than some last minute stuff, everything is looking good for once.” Vaggie smiled, there was nothing she found more satisfying than when things went according to plan.

“Where's the Princess? She seemed particularly anxious when I passed through earlier.” Lute asked.

“Incredibly so, today is a big day. I convinced her to sit in the bar and go over her speech. It's quieter in there and Husk can keep an eye on her. Already made him promise not to give her anything to ‘calm her nerves’.” Pointing towards the bar with her pen, as they passed by Lute caught a glimpse of the princess pacing back and forth and reading her lines aloud more like she was preparing for a part in a play than a public speech, but whatever worked for her.

“Smart.” Lute observed.

“I know.”

“The King?”

“We didn't need his magic for setting up, we don't want to get in the habit of relying on him to magically solve all our problems.” Laughing to herself, Vaggie crossed a few things off her list before looking at Lute. “Lucifer's off doing his own thing, something about talking with the other Rings. I didn't want to know. Honestly, it's probably for the best. Enough people saw… everything that happened to know he's supporting Charlie. Him being here would draw more attention to him than the hotel.”

“Mhmm.” Lute just hummed her response, noting Vaggie's attempt to gloss over the subject of the last Extermination. From her brief interactions with the Lord of Pride, she didn't see him as much of a public speaker. The man had a kind of rambling, mile-a-minute pattern to his speech that was rather hard to follow. Lilith must have been the one who engaged with the public. “And how about Alastor? I haven't seen him helping out.”

“You really think we could manage to get Alastor to clean and decorate?” 

“Ah, no, I don't imagine he would.” Lute allowed herself a small chuckle. 

“Not worth the argument. He promised to put an advertisement into his radio show so he's technically helping.” Vaggie shrugged.

“I'm sure it fits in great with the constant screaming.” Lute shivered. She feared few things and definitely didn't want to give Alastor the satisfaction of admitting it but the memory of that foul abyss that Alastor called his ‘broadcast’ still sent a shiver down her spine. If not for the Princess making a very bold decision to save her, Lute might very well be screaming along with those damned souls.

“Speaking of which, did you read through that file I put together?”

“Front to back. Very informative. I'd like to sit down and pick your brain about it at some point, but today might not be the best day for it.” Lute said and Vaggie nodded. Last night, after dinner, Vaggie had handed her a thick file with profiles she had put together about the major Overlords and several prominent gang leaders. Lute devoured the information greedily. She was not quite as much of a reader as Vaggie or the Princess as she rarely found works of fiction to be more engaging than her actual life, but relevant information on the enemy  was something she was more than happy to dig into.

The information provided, informative as it was, was unfortunately woefully incomplete. This was no real surprise, these Overlords were powerful people and likely went to great efforts to protect their private information. A lot of the information was guesswork based on the rumors Vaggie managed to make sense of, even for Carmilla Carmine who Vaggie visited regularly and seemed to have a decent working relationship with. The shortest profile of all was of a being called ‘Zestiel, The Ancient Overlord’, his portion of the file was a single page with a sketch of the man and a short handwritten note that claimed the man had physically appeared in her office and ‘politely’ requested she cease any further attempts to gather information on him. 

Still, some information was better than no information. It was massively helpful for Lute to put names to faces and at least have a potential idea of what some foes were capable of. The modern generation of Overlords had gone out of their way to avoid Heaven's attention, so it was all fairly new information to her. 

“My primary take away was that these ‘Vees’ are the primary concern?” Lute asked.

“So far, mostly because of Angel's connection to Valentino and whatever the weird beef is between Alastor and Vox. Velvette is kind of a wild card, but we can pretty much assume she's going to be involved if something starts with the other two.” Vaggie said. “Based on what Angel said about his encounter with Vox, they seem to be keeping an eye on us. No signs of escalation yet, but we should be careful.”

“I'll keep that in mind. We still have an hour before people start arriving, so if you're alright with it, I'm going to step away for a bit.” Lute said.

“That's fine, just as long as you're not getting in trouble and you're back down here before we open the doors.” Vaggie said, dismissing her with a wave. 

Lute nodded and made her way off to the elevator. Vaggie's information on the Vees was incomplete despite her best efforts. With them being a potential imminent threat, they needed to do whatever they could to fill those gaps. There was one potential source of additional information, despite how much the very idea of it turned her stomach. A short elevator ride brought her to her destination… 

Alastor's room.

Lute took a very long breath, composing herself to the best of her ability. She hated the man. For good reason… Unfortunately, he had access to knowledge that Lute needed. Thankfully, she'd had a lot of practice recently when it came to swallowing her pride.

 A quick check of her phone revealed that going by his usual schedule, Alastor should be finished with his broadcast. Lute wasn't as fond of using a phone as a method to tell time, she much preferred her old pocket watch. With digital displays, you didn't get the satisfying little click of closing it. Unfortunately, she'd left it and her handful of personal possessions behind in Heaven. There had been no point in bringing them on a mission she hadn't actually planned to return from. A shame. She likely could have brought up the desire for a new one while Charlie was dragging her around shopping but had felt it was an unnecessary expense.

Still, these thoughts were a distraction. It was better to just get it over with.

Her fist barely made contact with the door before it swung inwards dramatically, revealing none other than the Radio Demon himself. Always one for flair, the man had probably been using that shadow of his to spy on her.

“My my my! What a surprise, what in Damnation could have possibly drawn this Little Birdy to my doorstep?” The man asked, that trademark smile of his wide as ever.

“Alastor.” Lute was making a sincere effort to keep her tone level. She'd promised Vaggie to not make trouble and the Princess didn't need the extra stress. “Normally, I would have no interest in seeking a private conversation with you, but unfortunately you have information I need.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Alastor said, grin curling in pleasant surprise. The man clearly liked to be in a position of power. “It's true, I do know quite a great deal that likely escapes that bird brain of yours, but the matter remains on whether I might be willing to share what to know… and, of course, the price.”

She kept her eyes focused solely on the man in front of her. He gestured quite a bit as he spoke, and Lute could easily tell that those gestures all moved in a similar fashion, intended to draw her eyes to look into the interior of his room. She adamantly refused to do so. Somehow, she knew what she'd find if she let her eyes shift to the background. Alastor had been very vocal about what he intended to do with her wings… Lute could almost… feel them. Like a lost puzzle piece begging to be put in its place. She also knew what would probably happen if she gave into temptation and laid eyes on the wings and whatever horrific display this demon had twisted them into. She refused to give this motherfucker the satisfaction. Not today.

“I think it's information you might be willing to give freely, seeing as sharing it would be beneficial to you.” Lute said, stepping away slightly and indicating she wanted to walk and talk rather than hover in the doorway. Alastor’s smile thinned to his equivalent of a frown as he saw that Lute wasn’t going to play his game, but he plastered back on his usual grin and stepped forward to keep pace with her.

“You? Doing something for my benefit? Color me intrigued.” Alastor said as they began a casual walk down the long hall towards the elevator. Lute wasn’t often alone with Alastor and for the first time, she took note of the particular way he walked. It might have simply been an aspect of his carefully crafted air of perfectionism that he kept up at all times, but he walked with a remarkably similar gait and cadence to her own. Curious, Alastor certainly didn’t seem the type to have joined the military… Perhaps he picked up the habit from a family member?

“I need to know about your issues with Vox. As far as I can tell, he only considers the hotel worth his attention because he thinks you are a threat.” Lute said, staring the man down.

“Weeell now, how curious. You, of all people, taking interest in my history?” Alastor rubbed his chin, his grin cracking wide again. “Hmm, it's true that Vox’s attention can be quite the troublesome issue and having someone as hard headed as you help to keep him at arm’s length would be beneficial. Truly, It’s so rare that anyone asks me such a direct question, I’m almost tempted to give you a straight answer.”

“I am praying that your abundant self interest keeps your desire to spout bullshit in check.” Lute said dryly.

“Watch your language. Such vulgarities are unbecoming of a young lady-”

“I am, in fact, nearly twice your age.” Lute interrupted but Alastor kept on as if she hadn’t.

“I am curious though, tell me, how much do you know of my history? Surely the forces that be make some effort to keep track of we mortal souls?” Alastor asked.

“Only the bare minimum, typically we keep an eye out for mortals that made a name for themselves while alive. Jack the Ripper, John Wayne Gacy, Pedrinho Matador, Josef Mengele, those types. We make an effort to kill them off as soon as possible to prevent them from gaining power… I don’t believe I ever saw ‘Alastor’ on that list, I’m guessing you didn’t exactly make headlines.” Lute explained, noting that apparently Alastor twitched his ears when annoyed. Good to know that his lack of acclaim during his mortal life was something of a sore spot. Typical narcissist. “But, after mortals die we don’t really keep track of them. Overlords have gotten progressively less interesting with the passage of time. You lot gave up resisting centuries ago, with powerful Overlords burying their heads in the sand to hide away… There was a bit of a rumor that came across my desk, around about 80 years ago? Apparently the number of Overlords in Hell was drastically reduced by the efforts of a demon in red, I'm assuming that was you.”

“The Demon in Red? Perhaps a touch less inspired than my other titles but it does contain a certain ominous flair. I might keep that one. The rumors were true, upon my Arrival in Hell I quickly determined that the Overlord class needed trimming like an overgrown garden and set to work. Plucking out the weeds until the only ones remaining were Overlords more befitting my personal standards of quality and morality.” Alastor said, looking exceedingly proud of himself. 

Overlords that fit his moral and quality standards? Lute suddenly had rather low expectations of the remaining Overlords… but honestly, she could pretty easily figure that this was a lie to some degree. If she had to guess, whatever Overlords he killed were simply weak and those that remained were not alive because he spared them but because they were either his equal or better in power. She wasn't about to discredit his power or her own, but she was only a step or two above an average Exorcist and she had managed to injure him several times, surely there had to be some greater powers left among Sinners than him. Still, she would keep her mouth shut about that little observation for now.

“After all that effort of establishing peace and quiet in Hell, I took the time to set up my Radio Show to make sure no one would ever forget exactly who I am and what I can do. Added bonus of cornering the position of primary source of news broadcasting in Hell, lucrative position as you might imagine. Now, shortly after this I-” Alastor kept talking and Lute feared that if she didn’t intervene, he might never stop. 

“Stop. just… Shut up for a second.” Lute interrupted, pinching the bridge of her nose as she stopped to tap the elevator call button. “I said that I needed to know your situation with Vox , I couldn’t give a shit less about your afterlife story. Cut the fluff and the theatrics, do try be done by the time we hit the ground floor.” Lute growled, pushing past Alastor as the doors opened and she took her place in the elevator. The look on Alastor’s face at her cutting him off was almost worth the shitty experience that was being in Alastor’s experience. Husk had told her that Alastor’s two great loves were the curious mix of how much he loves keeping his little secrets and also singing his own fucking praises. Cutting him off from one or both was a great way to get under his skin. She’d have to thank Husk later for the tip.

Alastor’s face twitched several times as he stared at her. He was definitely contemplating what he might be able to get away with during the brief period of time that they’d be locked together in a metal box. However, no matter what he might be tempted to do, Lute knew he couldn’t get away with much. 

Lute’s contract with the Princess was something of an important factor, working in advantages and disadvantages for both of them. Explicit stated in the contract, Lute was obligated to protect any member of the staff and never harm them. Therefore, Lute could not harm Alastor (unless he betrayed the hotel in some fashion) and would lose her soul to the Princess if she tried to. However, the same was more or less true in reverse. The contract placed Lute into the Princess’ service, technically by the logic of the very Law of Retribution that had allowed the Princess to decide on Lute’s punishment for attacking the staff, Alastor could open himself up to the Princess’ judgment if he attacked Lute. While Charlie could often be overly forgiving, it was an exceedingly bad move if he wanted to continue currying the Princess’ favor. Lute would have to thank Vaggie for pointing out that little loophole to her.

Both Alastor and Lute would get punished if they attacked the other, therefore whoever broke first would end up losing no matter how a theoretical fight shook out. They were at an impasse… but it also meant that Lute could talk to Alastor however she damn well pleased without concern for retribution.

Alastor was clearly thinking about this very topic and seriously considering testing his luck by the way his grin cracked into a more malevolent tilt and the shadows around him warped and stretched. He was not the kind of man who took kindly on being told to shut up. Still, Lute merely stared him down, unwilling to show any sign of fear towards this man to his face. After several tense seconds, Alastor released the growing tension in the air with an annoyed growl. 

“You are very lucky that I despise Vox more than you.” Alastor huffed like a petulant child as he stepped into the Elevator. Lute would mark this down as a personal victory. The Demon took his place at the back of the Elevator, standing and fuming in silence until Lute tapped the button to close the doors. Once they began moving, Alastor began speaking again. “Very well, If I am to be forced to take this particular narrative and completely strip it of all important context that gives the events meaning, then I shall summarize-”

“Liking the sound of this better already.” Lute said, earning a warning glare from Alastor.

“Don't push your luck, Little Bird. As I was saying, I met Vox shortly after he arrived in the 1950s. Seeing potential in the man as a fellow entertainer, I took it upon myself to mentor him and set him on the path to power. We were friends, even business partners for a time. It was not to last. We began to have, let's call them, creative differences that lead to arguments and Vox… well, he wanted more than I am was able to give…” Alastor trailed off, something curiously like regret flickering across his face, but he mastered his emotions so quickly that Lute was almost convinced she had imagined the slip in the mask. “After that is where the trouble began. Vox, spiteful child that he was, began to use his blasted picture boxes to challenge my radio show. This went on for some years as he began building his little ‘Vee’ empire. Eventually I drew quite bored with this farce of a rivalry and set out to destroy him. Nearly succeeded, but I was foiled by the last minute intervention of Velvette and Valentino and forced to flee.” Alastor ended his tale with a bitter tone in his voice. Lute noted that he wouldn't admit to losing that encounter.

“... So, you were friends and then you just decided to betray and kill him because he was getting more popular than you? That's it?” Lute asked, almost surprised she even found it strange enough to question. Alastor was quite possibly one of the most wicked, black hearted, sadistic sinners she had seen. It hardly seemed out of character.

“And here I thought you weren't interested in hearing any of that oh so important context I mentioned.” Alastor said, shooting her a dark look.

“You're right, I'm not. I highly doubt it changes the end result… though, I must admit, hearing you went to kill Vox after he made his alliances is a surprise. You don't seem the type to walk into a 3 on 1 match.” Lute said.

“I admit that… took me by surprise. You must understand, Overlords making alliances is nothing new, but usually such an arrangement only implies mutual support in terms of things like funds, equipment and manpower. Perhaps a promise of vengeance. Even as close of a friend as I consider Rosie, I sincerely doubt she would rush to my aid in conflict. The Vees actually working together in a fight was… unheard of. Any sensible overlord would be too concerned with his ‘allies’ taking advantage of his weakened state to actually trust someone to fight alongside them. Vox must have tricked those two into a contract with some utterly damning mutual destruction clauses.” Alastor grumbled. 

Lute raised an eyebrow bar the man. She had expected there to be little honor among Sinners but for there to not even be enough trust to fight side by side as allies was truly a new low. Was nothing sacred to these miserable creatures?… No. None of that. Lute caught herself before she let old habits rule her mind. While the Overlords might be a bunch of petty and distrusting tyrants, she had to remind herself that she had seen Sinners who were willing to put their lives on the line for each other. Alastor and his kin were vile examples of Sinners and she had to work to make sure her impression of him didn't cloud her judgment on the Sinners that the Princess wanted to save.

“Right, I guess your story answers some questions and I can use the information to guess at his motivations should he appear. Now, his powers, what should I expect?”

“Expect to be beaten, as little credit as I like to give Vox, against him you would likely serve as little more than a distraction or perhaps an annoyance, if I'm being generous in my estimation.” Alastor said. His grin stretched quite wide when she scowled at him. Antlered asshole. “I will remind you, that while you were something of nuisance during our little tiff, your invulnerability rather carried you through that fight. Something that you currently seem to lack, making you quite a bit more useless.”

“Fucking humor me, Espèce de scélérat .” Lute ground out through gritted teeth. 

“Montrant ton âge, je vois.” Alastor responded in clear, if slightly  accented French making Lute blink in surprise. Alastor chuckled, tapping his chest. “ Mother made sure I spoke ‘good and proper French' not just the Creole dialect from home. Still, Vox’s abilities, if you insist. He is a sorcerer like me, though cut from a different cloth. His powers are primarily based on the manipulation of electricity though with the application of magic he can extend this to electrokinesis, technomancy, and manipulation of magnetic forces to a small degree. Quite the set of abilities, but his ability to generate electricity isn't infinite, however in this godforsaken modern age, external sources of energy are not hard for him to find such as an outlet, generator, or a telephone line if he gets desperate. Not that he often engaged in direct combat, usually he will avoid such things and default to hypnotism by making people look into his left eye, which can have effects ranging from emotional suppression to complete mental dominance depending on how weak willed his target is.’

“Avoid looking him directly in the eyes, noted.” Lute nodded. Vox’s powers sounded daunting, she'd have to test how well her body could handle electric shocks without invulnerability. She doubted the mental domination would be a concern, she was entirely too willful to let some mere Sinner influence her mind… Lute smacked her lips, tasting sand for some reason? Bizarre. “Any weaknesses?”

“That newfangled digital screen of his is rather fragile and damage to it seems to interrupt his ability to focus. Overall, physically he isn't the most resilient of targets. Make of that what you will.” Alastor explained, ending his explanation exactly as the elevator touched onto the bottom floor and the doors dinged open. Alastor's description gave the impression of a little my to mid ranger fighter, likely not used to melee and ultimately fragile despite vast magical power. Almost exactly like Alastor, but she felt that Alastor would despise the comparison. Alastor stepped out of the elevator and made a show of dusting himself off as if being in Lute’s presence had somehow made him dirty. “Now, if we are quite done, then I should very much like to converse with Charlie before our presentation. Good day.”

Lute made no attempt to stop the man, rather walking across the lobby to address a profoundly confused looking Vaggie. Lute hadn’t gotten terribly much from the conversation, but she had learned enough to be useful. It sounded like Vox’s interest in the hotel was purely founded on a very well reasoned distrust of the Radio demon and likely little else. A few tips to help her get ready should she ever need to fight the man off were also highly important. She did wonder how such an engagement might go. Alastor seemed to think he was stronger than Vox but the man was a decidedly unreliable narrator. If they were comparable, Lute was confident she could injure Vox… but beat him? She hadn’t much opportunity to test herself in combat since she had lost her angelic invulnerability outside of letting Razzle throw her around while she had still been seriously injured. How much less effective might she truly be in her diminished state? Was there a way to get stronger to make up for her lack of defenses? Weakness would not suit her in the depths of Hell, now that she had recovered from her injuries, she would have to begin doubling down on training to be ready to fulfill the responsibilities of her position.

Thoughts like this and more filled Lute’s head as she followed along with Vaggie through the rest of the morning set up. Perhaps it might have been strange to some outside observer that Lute was putting this much thought into the task of defending the Princess of Hell and her hotel after a mere two weeks of being removed from the position of Exorcist commander whose primary duty had been to destroy these very creatures. Lute was always one to take her job seriously, no matter the task she was handed… not to mention, aside from the earth shattering revelations that had been dumped upon her, if Lute was being honest, she just needed something to fixate on. If she left her mind to wander too long, there was too great a chance that she might backpedal and begin to spiral. Work kept her from the pit of despair and if she hyperfixated on it long enough she could eventually learn to just forget about her problems. Win win.

As the day progressed, they eventually ran out of preparations to do and the time for the event came. Sinners of all shapes and sizes arrived to crowd around the outside of the hotel. It was time for the Grand opening to begin. 

Overall, this was more of a thing for the Princess, she was playing the part of the dutiful host. She clearly had some amount of experience, greeting new arrivals and making light conversation. Lute seemed to recall that the Princess hadn’t been involved in her parents politics very often but clearly she had skill for social events, perhaps her parents used to have social events and she had to play the role of the well behaved Princess in front of the nobility? That seemed likely. Meanwhile, Vaggie was micromanaging the arriving news crews and corralling them towards the temporary stage where the Princess and Alastor were due to make some quick speeches.

Lute’s job was simply to keep an eye on things. Positioning herself so she could keep both the Princess and Vaggie in line of sight at all times. Lute was… perhaps a little jumpy, watching an entire crowd of gathering Sinners. Old instincts tried to prompt her towards diving straight into the thick of the crowd and begin tearing them apart. The vast majority of the arrivals seemed to be of the common variety of Sinners, not terribly strong or dangerous. Even in her diminished state she could likely kill a dozen or so before people even thought to react, she could- Lute gripped her fist, ceasing its incessant twitching. Focus on the task at hand. The objective isn’t slaughter, but security. She was only to resort to violence if there was a credible threat, not attack at random.

Lute was thankfully very perceptive, she had to be in order to pick up on small details and changes in the pace of combat. Even among this shifting crowd of a few dozen attendees, she was able to keep track of people fairly easily. She caught at least 5 instances of pickpocketing and a few people taking unsolicited photos but no signs of anyone sneaking a gun or a knife. So far there was nothing to concern herself wi- Lute’s attention narrowed in on one particular Sinner as she recognized his face. The Rat man from the mall. Alvin? Alphonse? Albert! He was wandering around the edge of the crowd, shifting nervously. Lute felt immediate suspicion flair as she prepared to start moving his way, but she paused. The man had cleaned up considerably since the last time she had seen him, likely using the stack of cash that Charlie handed him. He was wearing better fitting clothes, nothing that he could conceivably be concealing a weapon with. He seemed nervous at first, but an awkward smile cracked onto his face when the Princess noticed him and rushed over to chatter incessantly at him.

Huh. It seemed that the Princess’ gamble paid off. Curious. Perhaps there was hope for these Sinners afterall. The Princess ended up entertaining a few more Sinners that seemed to actually be intent on staying at the hotel, including one delinquent looking girl that Lute almost mistook for a hellhound but the eyes were wrong… maybe she was some kind of hyena? Weird. A more embarrassing incident was the Princess talking with some tiny fish looking Sinner who was ranting about ‘studying redemption’ whatever that meant. The Princess slightly flubbed the more professional persona she had been managing when she seemed to get caught on the man being an inventor and mistaking his name for Sir Pentious’ name. Thankfully the cameras weren’t rolling yet, but some people definitely got that embarrassment caught on their phones. Lute was set to protect the Princess from physical harm, not damage to her reputation… Not that any of these Sinner still seemed to take her very seriously. The casual disrespect that the Sinners held for the daughter of the literal devil irked Lute. yes, she had once mocked the Princess just as much but she had been operating under the innate superiority of Heaven, these Sinners were directly under the Princess’ authority and couldn’t even muster the occasional ‘Your Highness’ or ‘Your Majesty’? Infuriating. 

Finally, the camera crews finished setting up and the Princess was freed from social interaction to go make her public speech. There was nothing particularly exciting about it to Lute’s ears but the cameras seemed to be eating it up. Charlie mostly went through recapping the series of events that lead them to the newly rebuilt hotel, a bit dramatized to Lute’s mind but not overly so… Lute did make an effort to tune out the parts that involved her and Adam acting in antagonistic roles. Hearing yourself as the villain of someone else’s tale was never particularly pleasant. After the Princess said her piece, Alastor stepped on to give a brief speech that mostly amounted to confirming his sponsorship of the hotel and apparent eagerness to work with the Princess on this venture, working in layers of subtle threats towards any listening powers that the hotel was his domain and not to be fucked with. The looks on Charlie and Vaggie’s faces implied they caught onto the subtext and weren’t exactly pleased but didn’t stop him either. Lute also noticed that all the cameras in the crowd were rapidly adjusted away to not look directly at Alastor, but all the sound equipment was still held up so they were clearly still filming. What weird behavior… did Alastor have something against appearing on camera? After that, things seemed to be going fine until the Princess took the stage again to answer some questions.

As Charlie was going on about a question related to the hotel’s amenities, Lute noticed a change in the crowd. One of the news crews was acting funny. Lute narrowed her eyes, seeing that the reporter had stopped paying attention to the Q&A session and was talking on his phone, looking stressed. Her eyes flicked to their equipment, widening when she saw the stylized V emblazoned on the equipment. Not a good sign. Maintaining her calm demeanor, Lute subtly tapped one of her claws against the palm of her artificial hand a few times, producing a very slight metallic noise. Vaggie, recognizing the signal they’d discussed previously, turned her head to look at Lute with a raised eyebrow. Lute tilted her head towards the news crew, mouthing ‘Vox’ towards the other angel, who looked over and saw what Lute did. A frown appeared on Vaggie’s face as she nodded, she didn’t like the look of this but at least Lute had caught it with enough time to give them a slight heads up.

Moments later, the reporter gave a small yelp of surprise, nearly tossing his phone as a surge of light and electricity exploded from it and coalesced into the form of a Sinner that must have been Vox. The man flashed a big grin across the digital screen of his face, making a show of dusting himself off and popping his collar. Lute remained where she was, but her muscles tensed with the potential need to spring into action, nearby she could hear the hum of radio static as Alastor’s ears flattened in a clear sign of displeasure.

“Well well, Hello everyone! Princess, Alastor , and of course all the lovely viewers at home! So good to be here on such a wonderful, Hellish morning.” Vox announced himself with showman’s flair as he stepped into view of the many cameras that suddenly became very interested in him. It was around this time, that Vaggie had responded to the warning of his imminent arrival and tapped something on her phone. It was subtle, but a very brief flicker of annoyance crossed across Vox’s features showed that Vaggie being ready to turn off the hotel’s wifi was a good idea. The man was something of a notorious hacker.

“Uhm… ah, hello Vox, er, Mister Vox.” Charlie gave an awkward laugh, quickly glancing at the Radio demon standing to her side, then back to Vox. She was doing her best to play it cool, but there was already a growing air of tension in the air. “So … nice of you to come, have to say that we… didn’t exactly expect you to make an appearance. In person and all.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world! A personal invitation from the Princess of Hell isn’t something to be ignored, though you will have to excuse my lateness.” Vox gave a dramatic bow before the Princess. First bit of good manners from a single Sinner here, even if it was being played up for the camera. “This whole hotel business is simply too interesting to just sit at home and ignore.”

“Oh! Well! I’m very glad you’re interested, I-i never thought someone like you might actually be interested in what I’m trying to do here.” The Princess perked up immediately, but Lute wasn’t convinced. It sounded too much like a lead in.

“Oh, but of course I’m interested! Me and the viewers at home have definitely been keeping up with your hotel’s little escapades since the Last Extermination. I mean, sure, most of us were willing to write this off as another of your little flights of fancy Princess, no offense.” Vox chuckled to himself, clearly enjoying the banter, though he carried on before Charlie had a chance to respond to the less complementary aspects of his words. “Fighting back against Heaven? Killing fucking Adam? That was big damn news, certainly drew all eyes to what you’re trying to do here.”

Lute’s fingers twitched as she worked to keep her expression neutral. Mentions of Adam’s death were unpleasant enough, but Lute could see warning signs all over this.

“V-very nice to hear, but if people want to know more, we are kiiinda in the middle of Q&A session, sooo…” The Princess, as politely as she could manage, tried to get things back on track but clearly Vox wasn’t about to let anything go smoothly.

“Which is exactly why I’m here! All the viewers at home have plenty of questions for you, dear Princess, and I, as a man of the people, am here to be their voice and make sure the truth comes out.” Vox said, a flick of his wrist producing a microphone that seemed entirely unnecessary considering that the man could likely remotely interface with any technology he needed. Something something about Sinners and keeping up with the habits of the living… Or maybe it was an act to mock Alastor, who’s microphone had been destroyed? Based on the occasional twitch of the Radio Demon’s ears, it was likely some mix of both. Vox gave the microphone a small twirl in his hands before stepping a bit closer towards the podium, like a shark inching towards its kill. “Now, I’ll preface this by saying that I, of course, am a hearty believer in your intent behind this whole hotel thing… I do have to say that there have been some rumors and scuttlebut going around online that maaaybe your intentions aren’t quite as pure as they seem.”

“I can assure everyone that I have been… very straightforward with the hotel. You know, put a lot on the line to make it work.” the Princess stressed with a somewhat pained smile. The Princess’ good nature wasn’t exactly infallible, Lute had seen flickers of her temper now and then. Being called a liar was something that particularly seemed to get under her skin. 

“Naturally, everyone saw the outcome of the Last Extermination. Quite the show after all.” Vox grinned. “Yet, at the same time, it does raise some questions. I mean, an Extermination assault focused entirely on your hotel? Where you, your staff, and a handful of cannibals managed to fend off the entire assault with minimal losses and actually managed the assassination of The First Man? Now Heaven is suddenly so willing to negotiate with Hell for the first time in eons, changing up Exterminations, supposedly giving protections to your hotel? It is quite the epic tale but at the same time, I’m sure that some conspiracy theorists could go wild with that.” 

At Vox’s words, the crowd stirred, muttering to themselves and speaking in hushed tones. Everything Vox said was true, but him framing it that way seemed to imply some preplanned conspiracy that the Princess had arranged. Hah. Lute had once wished this to all be a conspiracy. The reality of cause and effect revealing long standing hidden flaws in the system was much worse . Still, the idea had seeded itself in the crowd and likely into the many viewers around Hell, which was bad for them. Worse was the way this was starting to get to the Princess, her hands tightening around the sides of the podium.

“Conspiracy? We were defending our home . Our friend, Sir Pentious, died fighting for the hotel because he-” she began, but Vox cut her off.

“Right! Sir Pentious! That is another thing that’s had the comment sections jumping recently, your claims following the meeting with Heaven saying that he, of all people, actually got redeemed and went up to Heaven? Something that you’ve offered no proof of, by the way. Care to comment?” Vox’s face was insufferably smug as he tilted his microphone in the Princess’ direction.

“... Forgive me if I was a little distracted by seeing a friend I thought had died and I forgot to take a selfie.” The Princess forced out through gritted teeth, but relaxed a bit when Vaggie stepped forward to place a hand on her shoulder.

“I can assure you all that Sir Pentious’ redemption is very real. I was there, so was Charlie’s father.” Vaggie said, turning her own glare on Vox, who seemed unphased.

“But of course, I’m sure that Miss Morningstar’s father and girlfriend make extremely credible witnesses with no ulterior motives. I’m just repeating people’s concerns, not trying to imply that the Princess might do something so morally bankrupt as puppet around her dead friend to get everyone to believe in her hoax hotel. Such an accusation would be downright slanderous.” Vox’s grin only widened at the sound of wood cracking in the Princess’ grip. “But, glad that you spoke up, Vaggie, right? Great transition. There are some people who doubt the exact honesty of this whole ‘encouraging Sinners to change their ways’ thing. I do have to admit, some of your choices for staff have raised concerns. I mean, partnering with quite possibly the most violent Overlord in history? The guy who runs a 24/7 broadcast of tortured screaming? Seems a little… unwelcoming.” Vox scratched a claw against the side of his face, small electrical sparks gathering as he did so. “Though if he wasn't bad enough, hiring not one but two Exorcists? Not exactly sure what we're supposed to take from that.” 

At this point, Vox flicked his finger off the side of his head, casting electricity above the crowd where it took the form into a pair of screens. Each screen displaying looped footage from the last Extermination. One showed Vaggie with her wings out, trying to fly to the Princess' aid. The other screen was much less flattering. Lute was streaked with red and gold blood, her stump arm dripping freely, her mask had been shattered but the remains of the helmet made it look like she had horns… Holy shit, is that what she looked like? For fucks sake, the expression on her face was manic, nearly feral. Lute finally understood why people occasionally looked at her like she was insane. She'd been particularly emotional that day but she hadn't thought she looked quite that deranged. This answered so many questions.

The crowd was more than a little shocked to come to this particular revelation, their muted chatter erupting into startled gasps. Even with the news of angels no longer being invincible, Sinner still held a healthy fear of Exorcists. Normally that might please Lute but for now it was working against them.

“Vaggie has been down here for years and hasn't hurt anyone. She helped fight off the other Exorcists to protect this place! I didn't see you out there helping.” The princess snapped, getting protective over her girlfriend.

“Mmmm, you did though, didn't you?” Vox snapped his fingers, screens changing to show several views of the cannibals, close ups of Carmine weaponry, and Angel Dust. “Same as with Miss Rosie and Lady Carmine, the support of Voxtech was with you all the way. Angel Dust is, after all, a known employee and featured star of Voxtech’s entertainment industry. He was our acting representative for this little event.” Vox said smugly, flicking his gaze over to Angel dust as a warning to not object. Angel’s hands tightened into fists but he kept his mouth shut. “But, I'll concede, you make a pretty good argument about that angel, now how about the other one? Seems you folks had some much more recent issues with her.”

Vox’s screens changed again, showing multiple views of Lute's solo attacks on the hotel. Her looming menacingly over the broken forms of Cherri and Angel. Slamming Niffty’s skull into the wall of the hotel. Throwing Husk out of the air. A final, slightly glitchy screen showed her headbutting Alastor. The sights produced a flood of emotions in Lute that she struggled to keep down. A part of her felt it was unfair to call up images of that day, she hadn't been in the right state of mind. Driven to suicidal fury because she felt she was at the end of her rope… but the fact remained that she had taken her pain out on others. Very nearly killed them. It had felt like what she was supposed to do at the time, it was still difficult to draw a clear line between now and then. Vox knew exactly what he was doing, pressing on a fresher wound that was much harder to defend. The crowd was horrified at what they saw and the staff of the hotel didn't seem to know how to respond either.

“U-uhm… Well, you see…that's different. Uh, Lute is-” the Princess struggled to form some kind of explanation to make sense of the situation. Charlie wasn't quite as ready to defend Lute as she was her girlfriend. That was fine. It didn't bother Lute. She knew what she was, what she'd done. 

“Able to speak for herself.” Lute said, stepping forward towards the podium. All eyes were suddenly very intently focused on her. She wasn't particularly fond of public speaking, but she just had to think of it like addressing the army.

The Princess was quick to cover the microphone with her hand and lean over to Lute. “Uh Lute? No offense or anything, but do you really think this is a good idea?” She whispered.

“This Vox isn't going to let you off easily. I have an idea how to settle this, better my reputation take a hit than yours. Trust me.” Lute said, looking Charlie in the eyes. The Princess held her gaze for several seconds, Lute asking for trust, especially in this situation was asking a lot. After a beat, she gave a small nod and gestured for Lute to take over. Lute had expected the Princess to agree, but for some reason, the fact that Charlie actually gave her trust to Lute… it stirred something in her. It had been awhile since someone regarded her with actual trust, even after settling things with Vaggie the other angel was still struggling to trust her, with good reason. Filled with resolve, Lute stepped up to the podium and faced down Vox with a glare. 

“Well well well, this is an interesting development.” The man regarded her with a look of interest, a grin appearing on his face. “... Fine, I’ll play ball. So, Exorcist give us a good reason why anyone in Hell should trust this hotel as long as you’re on staff. Going to try to deny your actions?” he said with a grand gesture towards all the floating screens.

“No. I have no intention of denying who I am or what I’ve done. I have been a devoted Exorcist for centuries and the events that have set me off that path are rather recent. Though, I can assure everyone here that I’ve paid in flesh and blood for my actions if that makes anyone feel better.” Lute held up her mechanical hand to flex the fingers a few times. “I’m sure the footage you picked up with your illegal hidden cameras probably contains the part where the Red psychopath behind me cut off my wings if you feel like showing that, but I doubt that will make for good television.” Lute could swear she heard Alastor and Vox give an annoyed ‘tsk’ at the exact same time. The crowd still seemed rather wary of her. “Either way. I’m not about to sit here and spill my story for all of Hell to hear, I have a much faster way of proving that I can be trusted by the people of Hell.”

“And what, exactly, could be that convincing?” Vox asked skeptically.

“This.” Lute lifted her hand up to her neck, instinctively curling her fingers around something that was both there and not there. As she gave a light tug, a glowing golden collar snapped into existence around her neck. The crowd all gasped in surprise, instantly recognizing the collar for what it implied. Vox’s eyes went about as wide as dinner plates, making the reveal all the more worth it. She could feel Vaggie and the Princess’ eyes on her, this obviously wasn’t something they’d intended to make public knowledge of, but Lute hadn’t seen a better way. Everyone in Hell understood the power of contracts and, as far as she knew, there was very likely no way to fake being under the influence of one. “For my crimes against Hell, the Princess, and her hotel I was officially banished from Heaven and left under the Princess’ authority. Given my history, it was decided that in order to assure that she can trust me to not fall into bad habits, I was to be placed under contract that I entered willingly . She does not own my soul, but I am under her authority to command and I will be severely punished if I disobey those commands. Simply put, none of you need to trust me, you simply need to trust the Princess.”

Her gamble seemed to pay off, the crowd didn’t suddenly like her but they seemed less cautious. Likely they were suddenly content in the fact that they knew if the big scary Exorcist tried to hurt anyone, then the Princess could just order her to stop. Vox’s brief startled expression faded to a dissatisfied frown, annoyed that Lute seemed to have outmaneuvered him. Might as well keep her momentum while she had it.

“But, I understand that this alone might not be satisfying to everyone. Since your arrival, you’ve brought up some concerning questions about the validity of the hotel and Miss Morningstar’s story. I can very easily satisfy these concerns.” Lute explained.

“Right, and we are just supposed to take your word for it? I’m sure you can appreciate how little we Sinners might trust angels, you know, given the last few centuries of oppression and all.” Vox said, looking skeptical but he wasn’t making any effort to dismiss Lute outright. As an Overlord who owned souls, he was likely the most convinced by Lute’s display and seemed interested in how this topic might progress.

“Again, you don’t have to take my word for it. Miss Morningstar can merely demand my honesty and I will be literally incapable of lying to you.” Lute suggested casually, much to the surprise of everyone around her.

“Lute, What the fuck!?” Vaggie and Charlie said in unison. Lute had a weird feeling that she was going to be hearing that a lot in the coming months.

“You know I don’t like abusing the whole ‘giving you orders’ thing unless I, like, really really need to. It doesn’t feel right.” Charlie said, upset at the very idea.

“I don’t see the problem. It's a fairly harmless condition, I won’t be forced to divulge any information I don’t wish to. I have been witness to enough that my testimony can cover all the major concerns that Vox has raised and if I am compelled to truth, then everyone here will have to accept it without question. Win win.” 

“...She might actually have a point.” Vaggie admitted after considering it for a few seconds. “It is an effective solution, plus now that it's on the table, we can’t exactly back off without looking bad.” Vaggie added the last bit with a small glare towards Lute, who merely shrugged.

“Gotta admit, surprisingly I’m with the angels on this one. Give the order, unless you’ve got something to hide.” Vox added, earning an annoyed glare from the three of them.

The Princess looked rather uncomfortable but just gave a defeated sigh as she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they had inverted to their demonic appearance and glowed with the intensity of her innate power and unholy authority.

“Lute, I command you to speak only truth until I say otherwise.” her voice echoed in Lute’s mind, tugging onto the bonds of the contract.

The effect was immediate and very noticeable. The golden collar around her neck suddenly seemed ice cold against her skin rather than its usual vague warmth. At the same time, a sensation of tightness in her chest made Lute suddenly stagger. It wasn’t her heart or lungs or anything like that… it was her core, her soul. She felt as if Charlie had reached into her chest and was holding her soul in the palm of her hand, clawed fingers squeezing tightly, threatening to crush it if she tightened her grip even slightly. Vaggie was quick to catch Lute before she actually fell, looking concerned.

“Shit, are you okay?” she asked. The sensation of tightness wasn’t going away, but it wasn’t getting worse. It would seemingly stay until she was freed from the effects of the command. Charlie’s face softened from her commanding persona into a more guilty look, as if she was aware of the effect she was having on Lute’s soul.

“I’m fi- Fuck!” Lute cried out as the tightness suddenly increased, a wave of pain rocketing through her entire body as she gripped the podium to keep from falling again. Apparently, even a harmless white lie such as ‘I’m fine’ wasn’t allowed. “No. Not fine.” she admitted, sighing in relief as the clenching in her core softened to what seemed to be the baseline level of discomfort. “But I will endure. Proof for everyone watching that this works.”

Vaggie and Charlie seemed very displeased at what Lute was putting herself through but the crowd was eating it up. She had their undivided attention, enough of them probably familiar with the powers of contracts to recognize exactly what Lute was feeling. 

“It's certainly convincing, now about addressing those concerns?” Vox prompted, tilting the microphone at her. He was either going to bear witness to Lute absolutely fucking things up by confessing something that proved the rumors true or he was actually going to get information that confirmed the Princess’ tale. Either way, Vox probably benefited from the views alone. Lute took a second to catch her breath and regain her composure. She stood up nice, straight and procession despite the discomforting ache in her core. If she was going to do this, she was going to do this right.

“People of Hell, pay attention.” Lute focused her attention on the cameras rather than Vox. “I am Lut-urk.” Lute grunted, another flash of pain ramming through her body. Okay, now this was just being pedantic. Fine, she’d just have to be very careful with her words. “I am Lieutenant, more commonly known as Lute. As the former second in command of the Exorcist army, my position has allowed me to be witness to several important events that can confirm the Princess’ claims.”

As she spoke, the crowd went silent, now hanging on her every word.

“Firstly, on the subject of whether or not redemption is possible. I can confirm that it is. I was… rather unwilling to believe it at first, but I saw the proof while in Heaven. I was witness to the death of this Sir Pentious during the last Extermination, then witness again to him appearing before the court of Heaven, very much alive. Believe me, I looked for a hint of conspiracy but honestly doubt even Lucifer could have pulled off tricking the High Seraphim into believing in his revival.” Lute said, feeling no further spikes of pain from the command and glad that it didn’t seem to compel additional truth from her, any mention of her attempting to rekill Sir Pentious might have lost her the crowd.

“Secondly, while Vaggie and I are both former Exorcists, we have chosen to step away from that path willingly.” A slight twinge of pain, just enough to make her wince. “... I admit I took much more convincing and perhaps… resisted change, but eventually I could no longer deny the truth of the matter. Being the second in command of the Exorcist army, I have overseen centuries of Exterminations against the population of Hell. I was taught that this was necessary, that your kind was incapable of changing from their wicked nature and that if you were left to outgrow the boundaries of the Ring of Pride, then you might rise up and endanger the people of Heaven. I…” Lute trailed off, not because of the influence of the command, but something else clenched in her chest. This part of her speech was not being received well, given the many angry glares of the crowd, hell, she could practically feel the resentment of every Sinner in Hell weighing on her shoulders but even that wasn’t what stilled her tongue. She didn’t want to say the part that came next. She felt it was important to say, that she needed to say it. She had come to this conclusion some time ago, but saying it out loud felt deeply and profoundly wrong. It would be the final nail in the coffin, turning her back on everything she’d ever believed… but it had to be said. “... I alone have killed tens of thousands of your kind, likely more than most of your cruelest overlords. Before, I felt this was an achievement to be proud of… but this was a mistake. In my brief time in Hell, I have continued to see that Sinners can change, can choose to be better and that some may be worthy of Heaven. Now, the knowledge that there was even a chance that the many I damned could have possibly been saved weighs heavily on my soul. It is a guilt that will likely never leave. It is the reason I accepted the Princess’ offer to work for her hotel, to protect those that wish to walk the path to redemption.”

Lute swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling not even a flicker from the command over her. Her words were truthful despite how hard they were to say. She had promised Charlie and Vaggie that she was trying to change and she had meant it. Gathering her resolve, she pushed on.

“Look. All of you have a right to be suspicious of me and even Vaggie, but the Princess- Charlie only desires to help you. She has put everything on the line, time and time again just to give you all a chance. I have been witness to the strength of her conviction first hand and I can assure you that it is unshakable. There is no hoax, no trick, no conspiracy, no power grabs, no politics. No one is forcing you to join the hotel, the Princess doesn’t want to dictate how you live your life. The choice of whether you want to join is entirely on you. If you want to stick to business as usual, I literally could not give a shit. You want to change and try to commit to it, come to the hotel, the Princess is happy to help you. My only part of this is making sure that anyone in these walls stays safe and I am very good at my job." For the last part of her speech, she turned her eyes away from the crowd and the cameras to lock eyes with Vox as his frown deepened. “Any further questions?”

Vox held Lute’s stare for several tense seconds. He didn’t look angry exactly, but displeased. He likely didn’t enjoy being threatened but he had seen how well Lute could perform and knew that she was being very honest in her intent to protect the hotel if he decided to be a problem. With a breath, Vox’s expression melted into an easy smile as he put back on his showman persona.

“No, I think that goes a long way towards easing a lot of hearts and minds around Hell. No further questions at this time.” Vox said, turning on his heel to have a more intimate chat with the camera and likely the crew. Lute had a feeling that in any other situation, he could very much have abused her inability to lie, but her speech had put the man rather off his carefully planned script and he’d likely need to regroup before he could do anything else in a public setting. Still, he didn’t seem to be making any move to actually leave yet. She’d have to continue to keep an eye on the man.

She was so focused on watching him that she jumped slightly when she felt a hand squeeze her shoulder. Turning, she saw the Princess looking down at her with a big smile and slightly wet eyes. Before Lute could say anything, Lute was yanked into a very tight and crushing hug. She gave a grunt of protest, but the Princess was too strong for her to wriggle away from. Lute wasn’t big on hugs or most forms of non-intimate physical contact and normally would have protested more but… it wasn’t like she could stop Charlie, she just kind of had to endure it… not that it was the absolute worst thing. She caught the quiet sound of Vaggie laughing and just growled angrily under her breath, not that it stopped her either. What an insufferable pair of women. After a small age, the Princess gave her one last squeeze before whispering in Lute’s ear a quick release from the command still hanging over her.

Lute sighed in relief as she was released both from the hug and the influence of the command. She could practically feel the grip around her soul releasing, feeling like she could breathe properly at last.

“I… I guess you really meant everything you said.” The Princess said, wiping at her eyes a bit.

“I merely said what needed to be said. That talking television was trying to push you into a corner and it seemed the best way to get you out of it.” Lute waved her off, making an effort to straighten her tie and regain her professional demeanor.

“What needed to be said huh? Even the bit about Charlie’s unshakable conviction?” Vaggie asked with a smirk that only grew as Lute’s cheeks colored slightly.

“It sounded like the right thing to say… but yes, that’s not a comment I give lightly. Even if I have been something of an antagonist; I have seen the Princess face the courts of Heaven, stare down the Exorcist army, and stand up to save someone that… really didn’t deserve it. So, I would say unshakeable conviction is an apt description.” Lute said defensively, shooting an annoyed glare at Vaggie.

“Thank you Lute, for the compliment and what you did… I could feel every time the magic was working on you. I know that wasn’t easy or pleasant… but it seems to have paid off.” The Princess said, turning to look towards the crowd. Like Vox, many of the reporters were turned back to chat at their cameras and the rest of the onlookers no longer seemed to carry that suspicious air. Some even looked interested in hearing more. “Glad I trusted you.” she said with a big smile that again poked at something in Lute’s chest. Lute just turned away with an awkward cough.

“Again, just doing what was necessary. Princess, you should really get back to addressing the crowd, now that they’re settled they will likely prefer to hear from you rather than me. The day is still young after all.” Lute said, gesturing towards the podium and the waiting Sinners.

“She’s right, we need to wrap up the Q&A soon as we can. Thankfully we aren’t off schedule but we are supposed to be getting to the hotel tour pretty soon. Lute’s done enough, so we should let her get back to keeping an eye out for any more trouble.” Vaggie was looking at Lute with a strange expression, not exactly upset but not entirely pleased either. She was quick to get back to business mode though, guiding Charlie back to the podium with one hand and giving Lute a thumbs up with the other. There were mixed signals in that, not that Lute knew what to make of them.

Lute was happy to step away, waiting for that off feeling to settle. Probably some lingering effect of the command or whatever she had to tell herself. She felt very… off. Weirdly relieved, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders with getting some of her feelings off her chest during her speech, but at the same time there was a lingering emptiness that lingered in her now. This was yet another step away from the life she had lived for 256 years, openly stating her guilt over the Exterminations, admitting her mistakes in front of all of Hell. It drew harsh lines in the ground between who she was and who she had been. She knew there was no going back, she… didn’t want to go back, but she couldn’t exactly just forget or deny who she had been either. She had lived a life of duty and pride as an Exorcist, even if she now understood that she had been a life that did a great amount of harm it still wasn’t the easiest thing to completely let go of.

Lute took a deep breath and let it out slowly. That was more than enough introspection for today. If she kept on this path, she would get entirely lost in her own thoughts. She still had a job to do. The grand opening event had barely started and now that there was at least one potential enemy Overlord standing around, she needed to be on the look out for other potential threats.

As she turned her attention back to the crowd, her eyes immediately sought out the two main things she felt could potentially be a problem… and found neither of them. They should have been exceedingly easy to spot given their stark red and blue outfits. Concern sparked in Lute as she realized that at some point, Alastor and Vox had disappeared. That couldn’t be good, not at all.

Chapter Text

In her wildest imagination, Lute could not have conceived a situation with a greater potential for disaster than losing track of two rival Overlords at a social event. 

This absolutely had to be resolved as quickly as possible. She had an idea of what those two were capable of and their temperament, even the chance of an argument escalating could end up leveling the hotel. She had to figure out where they'd gone but she couldn't see any evidence of them. The Princess, Vaggie and the staff hadn't seemed to notice the discrepancy and the Voxtech news crew was operating without their boss again. Had they both left the property? That seemed rather unlikely. She knew she wouldn't be able to get through an entire event without personally confronting someone she might have a grudge against. They had to have gone off to face each other, but where to check first? Could she really waste time running a lap around the property or did she try to check the many floors of the hotel first?

It was too hard to choose, so she opted not to choose. Thinking quickly, Lute snuck around the back of the stage. Waiting until someone started asking the Princess a new question so that everyone would be nice and distracted, Lute hooked a claw around one of Husk's suspenders and yanked the man off stage. The man gave a quick, surprised grunt but she had pulled him out of sight before anyone could spot the source of the noise. 

When she finally released him, the perpetually grumpy Sinner just stared at her and raised an annoyed eyebrow, having had enough time to realize it was Lute rather than an actual kidnapping.

“One of these days, you’re going to learn to use words when you want to get something done and we are all going to be better for it.” Husk said when Lute finally pulled her hand off his mouth.

“I don’t have time for sass and I’m trying to be stealthy.” Lute growled under her breath, she didn’t want to draw too much attention.

“Normally I’d make a comment about a bright red shirt being the opposite of stealth, but we are in Hell, everything is red down here. Aesthetics aside, what’s got your panties in a twist? Figured you’d be in a good mood after the girls praised you for a job well done.” Husk’s annoyance faded as he wiggled his eyebrows at Lute, who just blinked at him in confusion.

“What in the 7th Heaven are you on about? …You know what? Don't care.” Lute said, chopping her hand through the air to symbolically cut off the topic. Husk could spout off the strangest nonsense sometimes. He was probably a couple sips into his flask at this point in the day, Lute just hoped he was still in the ‘functional alcoholic’ range. “More important things to focus on. Again, don't have time to beat around the bush, did you see where Alastor snuck off to?”

“Al’s missing?” Husk's eyebrows lifted in surprise, the man shifted over to peek at the stage and confirm what Lute just said. “Shit, I didn't even notice… Vox too, That's probably bad.”

Lute just groaned in annoyance, this was time she wasn't getting back. Husk apparently was just as long in the dark as she was.

“So you didn't even see him leave the stage?”

“Wasn't looking. What am I? His fucking keeper?” Husk asked with his usual annoyed snort but sighed. Sass aside, he at least seemed to catch into the potential seriousness of the situation. After a second or two of thought, he gestured towards the stage. “Grab Niff, she's a lot more observant than people think. Knowing her she’s probably been googling Mr. Flatscreen.”

“Niffty is insane. Clinically, I think.” It wasn't that Lute didn't like Niffty… well, she didn't. The tiny Sinner was erratic, incomprehensible and there was that whole ‘stabbing Adam 15-20 times in the spine's thing but Lute was trying to be better about not holding that against her. Trying, keyword. Mostly, Lute was just unconvinced how reliable she might be in this scenario.

“That being true doesn't change what I said. Niff being fucked in the head and extremely observant are statements that can coexist. Just fucking grab her and stop wasting time.” 

Grumbling, Lute stepped off, sneaking back onto the stage and quickly snatching the small wriggling bug woman. Not quite as stealthy this time, getting a few odd looks but thankfully no one questioned her. When she finally plopped down Niffty, the woman's muffled giggles died and were replaced with a profound look of disappointment.

“Damn it! What does a girl have to do to actually get kidnapped? Is it too much to expect to be manhandled and dragged off to someone's secret lair?” She snapped, making Lute and Husk blink in surprised confusion. Niffty stomped her tiny feet in anger, settling a one eyed glare at them but the mood swings that followed was both swift and expected. She crossed her arms and plopped into a dejected looking sitting position, pouting now. “I never get to have any fun.” Niffty grumbled.

“Why do you want to be-” Lute began, cut off when Husk grabbed her shoulder and shook his head.

“Don't ask, you aren't prepared for the answer.” Husk's tone held a grave kind of seriousness about it. What did that even mean? Why were these Sinners so fucking weird? No no, Lute had to remind herself she was on the clock.

“Niffty. Be serious. Did you see where Vox and Alastor snuck off to?”

“Huh? Oh yeah! I was watching Vox super close. That's a premium Bad Boy . Oh, the things I'd do if I could get my hands on him .” Immediately recovering from her pouting, Niffty shifted to her deranged giggling, mind awash with lustful thoughts. Oh, this was so much worse. The man's face was a flat television, how could someone even get horny for that?

“Niffty! Where. Did. They. Go?” Growling, Lute attempted to pull the crazy train back on track by making the tiny cyclops look her in the eye.

“Oh, they poofed to the back of the crowd and kinda talked for awhile but it was less talking and more Alastor standing there and doing the smile like he does while Vox yelled and failed his arms around like one of the bugs i stab, but only when I don’t kill them right away and get to stare at them while they wriggle around. Waaas hoping they’d actually get into an argument and start burning things but Alastor noticed people were staring at them so they walked into the hotel. Shame.” Niffty explained in her rambling fashion but at least she actually gave a solid answer. 

“Fucking finally, you two stay here. I’ve got to deal with this before it becomes a mess.” Unfortunately this interaction had both wasted time and done irreparable damage to Lute’s already fractured psyche. Lute might have just been faster to run a lap around the grounds, but knowing they were in the hotel narrowed things down. If they walked into the building, they were hopefully still on the first floor, she’d seen enough to know Vox and Alastor could teleport and likely wouldn’t have bothered with the door if they intended to retreat to Alastor’s room on the top floor. As she turned to leave, she was stopped by a hand gripping her shoulder. She almost growled at yet another delay, but calmed when she saw Husk was giving her a serious look.

“We can help.” he said simply. Husk and Niffty both probably knew better than any what those two Overlords were capable of. She was surprised that husk even made the offer, seemingly speaking for Niffty as well but the little woman’s smile seemed to indicate that she didn’t mind. Both of them working together had been a near match for Lute when she was still invulnerable… The three of them working together might actually have a decent chance of- Lute shook her head.

“Thank you but no. Hotel security is my job now, I’m only trying to head off a problem before it starts. I can handle this myself.” Lute said, giving a nod to husk before she turned away and pulled out of his grip. “More helpful if you try to make sure Charlie and Vaggie don’t suspect anything is wrong.” Husk watched her for a second, but nodded and gestured for niffty to follow him back on stage. Niffty for her part, just went back to pouting and mumbling about not getting to do anything fun. Lute knew Husk had meant well with the offer but she… She was still having trouble with the idea of asking Sinners for help. Asking a quick question was fine, but asking them to walk into a situation that could turn dangerous with her? She couldn’t give them that kind of trust yet. Even if it wasn’t just trying to preempt a potentially dangerous argument between two rival powers, the thought of being alone in a room with Alastor, Niffty, and Husk worried her more than she wanted to admit. Husk had been good to her, something almost like a friend and Niffty was… well, now that it had been clarified that Lute was not for stabbing, Niffty hasn't shown any violent inclinations towards her. Unfortunately, they both literally belonged to Alastor, who could command them to help destroy her at any time and then swear them to silence. The unfortunate loophole in her protection from him was that that whole Law of Retribution stuff would only apply if Charlie knew who hurt or killed Lute. Between Husk, Niffty, and Alastor they could potentially be rid of her and her body in record time. 

It just wasn’t something she was willing to trust yet.

Putting the thoughts out of her mind, Lute sprinted off to the hotel. Even if she could narrow down their location as to likely still being somewhere on the first floor, that didn’t mean the first floor wasn’t massive. It could take her upwards of 10 minutes to check every room and hallway. She’d wasted enough time. Bolting around like an idiot wouldn’t serve her, thankfully she had more than just her eyes to help. Alastor and Vox were strangely similar in a lot of ways, but primarily in their Sinner form manifesting with odd technological traits. She knew well that the air around Alastor buzzed with radio static when he was agitated and during the ‘interview’ she had noted that Vox’s voice had a habit of taking on various forms of reverb or electric humming when his mood was elevated as well. All she had to do was listen.

Closing her eyes and focusing on that sense, she did pick up on a faint bit of static among the otherwise quiet building. Making her way towards the source, Lute eventually found herself coming towards the banquet hall. Of fucking course, she was an idiot. Both of those men seemed to be pure manifestations of towering egos, they would obviously choose to have a private argument in the largest, fanciest room they could find. It should have been the first place she checked. She could hear the buzzing air from here. Logically, she should have just barged in and told the two to break it up… but she was a little curious. Approaching as stealthily as she could manage, Lute peaked around the doorway into the banquet hall.

This was a room that the King of Hell must have let himself get carried away with. Lute was still skeptical of the need of such a room aside from managing an overflow of guests in need in dining space, she sincerely doubted one could get Sinners together for formal parties. Nevertheless, this room was… lavish. The floors were paneled with dark and light wood in a geometric pattern around a large centerpiece that depicted what must be the Morningstar family seal, as it was a design Lute had often seen worked into various bits of the architecture and some of the wallpaper. A snake curling around an apple drawn over Lucifer’s personal demonic sigil, surrounded by six seraphim-like wings. Above an intricately designed barrel vaulted ceiling held a pair of many tiered crystal chandeliers on either end of the room, currently dim as it was daytime, but each layer held complex crystal structures that would cast enchanting lights on the room below when lit up. The back of the room was taken up by a stage big enough to fit a small orchestra set against a massive ornate window overlooking the mountains beyond the hotel. The side walls were the room’s main feature though. The right wall was dominated by seven grand arches with massive red and gold drapes framing them, each one holding a stylized painting depicting what must have been each of the seven sins, considering the golden six winged figure in the last one. On the opposite wall, they were matched by seven cathedral styled stained glass windows depicting strange landscapes that seemingly represented the terrain of each of Hell’s rings as the one across from Lucifer’s painting showed a red sky and the jagged curled mountains that surrounded Pentagram City. The room had been placed so that the windows seemed to catch the best angle of Pride’s strange and Sunless sky, casting an array of colors onto the polished floor and giving the room a slightly mystical feeling to it. It all seemed a little much for a hotel, but the King of Hell didn’t seem to have anything resembling an off switch. Given what Lute knew of the grand scale of the Morningstar Mansion from the many times she had flown above it… this might actually be Lucifer’s form of ‘casual effort.’

Standing amidst the grandeur of the room were exactly the two men Lute had been looking for. Stood at the far end of the room, standing in the colored reflection of the Pride Ring’s window and in the middle of a raging argument… Lute wondered if those overdramatic idiots had stood there on purpose or subconsciously? Lute was close enough now that she could finally listen in.

“-for 7 fucking years off to who knows where! Just when I was thinking I could finally have some peace and quiet, you show up out of fucking nowhere to spit in my coffee and ruin my fucking life again!” Vox shouted, making no effort to hide his anger or control his temper. The screen of his face flared with bright light everytime he emphasized a word, sparks crackling around his fingertips.

“Do grow up. Not everything is about you.” Alastor seemed more composed, but it was a thin facade. Lute might not have known Alastor terribly well, but she recognized when people were teetering on the edge of violence. Alastor’s posture was stiffer than usual and even at a distance Lute could begin to pick out the faint undertone of screaming rising in the crackling static, clear signs of Alastor’s mood despite his calm expression.

“No no, you’re right, it's not about me . It's all about you , always is whenever you start to parade that ugly mug around. It's all about you and your increasingly pitiful attempts to remain relevant despite the fact that nobody’s actually been that scared of you for decades. ” Vox said, pacing a slow circle around Alastor like a shark circling around its prey. The grin on the Radio Demon’s face took on a decidedly more sinister tilt at the accusation of lost relevance, Vox was well aware he’d touched a nerve. “Big scary Radio Demon with his spooky broadcast. Even in Hell that shit can only stick for a few decades and you haven’t exactly kept up your kill count. Tried to refresh everyone’s memory buuuut that hasn’t exactly worked out has it? First my friends and I sent you fucking packing and then your big return to the scene, trying to take down the First Man? Well, that was just embarrassing, Old Pal .”

“What’s embarrassing is how close I came to killing you before your lackeys arrived. Honestly, I didn’t expect it to be that easy, really thought I’d trained you better.” Alastor kept his face forward despite Vox’s pacing, pretending to inspect his nails as if he hadn’t a care in the world. He likely didn’t need to be looking to be prepared for a potential attack, given that he likely had his shadow somewhere acting as his eyes. “All that time I spent building you up and you’re still a disappointment. This little ‘empire’ you’ve built is cute, but we both know it lacks substance. Your hacky broadcasts and products probably only get traction thanks to your little hypnotism trick. No one really respects you or your companions. A passing fad, quick to be forgotten… but they remember me, even if you claim they don’t fear me, they still remember exactly who I am and what I’m capable of.”

That one seemed to sting Vox a bit, making him pause his circling for a half step. Clenching his fists and taking a breath, it seemed shere spite was the only reason he hadn’t started burning the building down yet. He didn’t want to let Alastor win. Lute could, surprisingly, relate to that thought at least.

“Yeah, I certainly remember what it was like to be talked down to all the time.” Vox grumbled, but finally stopped his circling to point an accusing finger at Alastor. “I also do remember what you’re capable of, which is why I’m fucking here.”

“Oh, you had a reason to be here other than embarrassing yourself on interplanar television?”

“Eat shit and die. All I want to know is what you’re fucking planning. What’s your deal with the Princess and don’t try to twist my fucking words, I know you have an actual deal with her. Fucking spill it.” Vox demanded, but despite the seriousness of his tone, he got little more than an eye roll from Alastor.

“You and those cameras of yours. You’d think upgrading to that ridiculous flat screen might have helped you to keep your nose out of other people’s business but clearly it’s somehow had the opposite effect. There’s nothing to tell, Vox. I traded our dear Princess some critical information and bargained for a small favor between friends, nothing serious.” Alastor shrugged casually, as if everyone in the room didn’t already know the sheer weight of a favor from the Princess of fucking Hell. “Even if there was some kind of scheme, I can’t think of a single reason in creation as to why I might be convinced to tell you about it.”

“That right?” Vox’s agitation dropped in an instant, a wide and cocky smile spreading across his screen as if Alastor had just walked into a carefully hidden trap. “Didja forget everything you taught me, Al? I know exactly how you work people. Even if I ignore the possibility of you trying to talk her out of her soul, which literally only you’d be dumb enough to try, I still know how you bargain with people. One or two little favors, here and there, some for free and others not. Making yourself seem trustworthy and making them more and more dependant on your help until you pull the fucking rug out from underneath them and the only thing they have left to pay off their debt is whatever they can’t afford to give. Seen you do it thousands of times, helped you do it plenty. Pulled that particular strategy myself now and then, I’ll admit. It's a good tactic, but unfortunately it requires a lot of trust. You’ve been bending over backwards to get that Princess on your side… and I can fuck all that up with a single conversation. Either you tell me what your plan is, or I sit down with little Miss Morningstar and tell her exactly what you did to me. We’ll see how much she trusts you after that little talk, she seems pretty forgiving… but I think there’s a limit.”

Vox’s threat actually took Alastor off guard, leaving him without words to respond for a moment. Vox relished in his victory. Either Alastor revealed his plans or Vox tanked them before they could get off the ground. It was a clever play.

“Still not gonna tell me what I want to hear?” Vox leaned forward, cupping a hand to his non-existent ear as if he was listening intently. “Going once? Going twice?... Shame. Oh well, I’m not too proud, I can take the little victory. Cameras should still be rolling, let's make the past go public, eh?” Vox turned on his heel, beginning to march out of the hall, but given the fact that he didn’t simply zap himself into the nearest light switch he was obviously giving Alastor a last chance to spill his guts. Alastor looked after the man, his face contorted in rage. The shadows around him began to distort, interacting strangely with the colored reflections on the floor. He seemed prone to strike down Vox… but all at once, everything around him snapped back to normal as his face twisted with malicious glee.

“You have such a bad habit of missing the finer details my dear old friend. Interfering with my plans will still come at a cost… it will take you quite a bit of time to explain your little sob story, more than enough time for me to… take a walk. Ruin my toys, I’ll break yours.” Alastor’s threat seemed oddly mundane at first. What was Alastor going to do? Break a bunch of equipment or something? “That little alliance of yours has had me curious for a while. Combined the three of you are rather formidable, but without you the other two… well, not quite as strong as either of us. I’m sure ridding you of Valentino might actually end up being something of a boon, but the other one…” Alastor drew out the thought, idly tapping his chin, Vox stopped walking away but didn’t turn back to Alastor. “You really have forgotten my lessons. Rumor is you’ve grown rather attached to that girl. I wonder, which would happen first? You finishing your story or Velvette drawing her last breath?”  

Following Alastor’s threat, Vox stood in place for a few moments. His screen had darkened considerably and Lute couldn’t even see his mouth anymore, only the rising tide of unchecked rage in his eyes. That, apparently, was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

All at once, bursts of sparks went off around the room. Light Sockets, cleverly hidden, exploded as bolts of lightning rocketed from them and into Vox. Alastor, recognizing that he had finally pushed Vox off the edge, cackled gleefully as his own body stretched and cracked to his half monstrous form. Vox’s own transformation was not quite so beastly, but radiated power just as visibly.  Electrical energy surged and sparked off of Vox’s body like a faraday cage as glowing blue circuitry like patterns burst into life across his skin. Either what the radio demon had said about Vox’s preference for long to mid range combat had changed since he had last seen the other Sinner or Vox was simply too angry to think straight. With a roar of rage, Vox turned and began to charge towards Alastor with a sparking fist aimed for that horrific, smug grin.

Lute could hold off no longer. Jumping from her hiding space, she began to sprint across the room. She might not have been nearly as fast and agile as someone like Vaggie but she was able to cross the room with leaping strides. She had to duck and dodge around the increasingly dense field of sparking arcs of lightning surrounding Vox, both her contract and her personal desire to stop the fight from escalating, pushing her onward. Unfortunately, she had no time to think of her own safety, reaching out to wrap her fist around Vox’s elbow and stop him.

Ah, so that's what several thousand volts of electricity felt like. Several million? Or was it amps instead of volts? Lute had no idea how electricity worked but it sure as shit felt like a lot of something very painful. Touching Vox’s flesh was much like what she imagined grabbing a sparking power line might be like. Muscles tensed and spasmed, making her body tremor violently. Heat flooded her veins like white hot iron injected directly into her bloodstream. Any other time she’d been blasted with lightning by some brave but foolish sinner, it had felt rather light being lightly tickled at best but she wasn’t invulnerable anymore. The sustained current ripping and tearing its way through her body was enough to nearly render her insensate. It likely would have outright killed anyone else, but she was only catching the edge of the current off of Vox, not the actual intended attack. 

Through sheer will and spite, she kept her grip on the man, the charging current actually working slightly in her favor as it felt her grip locked tight around the Overlord’s arm at the cost of feeling like she was being cooked alive. Vox did not have the build of a strong man, nor did it seem that strength was something he had invested in overmuch, but being an Overlord made him incredibly powerful nonetheless. The act of stopping his punch required about the same effort as trying to stop a speeding truck by grabbing the  rear bumper. The part of her that wasn’t enduring the agony of being actively electrocuted was actually rather surprised that she managed it, despite her own considerable physical strength, Vox should have just had the power to carry her along with his punch due to her lack of mass, but the laws of physicals got a little wonky in conflicts between magical beings.

Vox’s head snapped around to cover her in its radiant blue glow, turning with the sound of grinding glass. Despite the brightness of his screen, his eyes were consumed by an utterly dark fury.

“ Why the fuck are you interfering!?” He roared, tugging against her grip but she continued to hold firm.

“N-no… fighting…  h-ho-hotel.” It was an extremely difficult thing to form a fully coherent sentence with thousands of volts running through your body but Lute did her best. 

“Isn’t that surprising.” That was Alastor’s voice, carrying a genuine note of surprise that Lute came to his aid, but Lute couldn’t muster the attention to actually look at him. “I think you ought to listen to her Vox, she’s quite the stickler for the rules. Intolerable tattletale.” absolutely intolerable, even when she was helping him. if Lute weren’t being electrocuted, she might consider punching Alastor right in the dick, violation of contract be damned.

Much to her surprise and great relief, Vox cut the flow of electricity at alastor’s suggestion. The absence of it nearly made Lute drop to her knees if not for Vox shoving her off of him with an angry growl. Holy shit. That hurt. All her muscles were still spasming and she could faintly catch the scent of cooked meat… that was either her actually being burnt or a sign of brain damage… no, she was thinking of a stroke. Right? Did you smell meat or toast before a stroke? Lute’s brain was probably some kind of fucked up if she was thinking of that instead of the two overlords. Mustering all the willpower she possessed, she forced herself to stand straight on shaking legs and level the best glare she could manage at Vox. The man’s face flashed and glitched with different emotions. The rage that Alastor inspired, annoyance at the interruption and a brief look that seemed almost impressed at Lute’s tenacity.

“Hotel rules be damned. I repeat, why are you trying to stop me? I saw exactly what he did to you. You have almost as much reason to hate him as I do. I sincerely doubt you’ve forgotten.” Vox’s face shifted and actually displayed a TV feed. The screen was glitchy and erratic, overcome with static and dead pixels but Vox seemed to will it to clear somewhat. The first thing Lute heard was a horrific scream. One of a terrible, bone deep kind of agony. A horrible and familiar scream. Among the shifting screen she caught flashes of a stretched glowing grin, glowing spurts of angelic ichor, and her face twisted in agony and weeping with pain. She shut her eyes and wrenched her head away, unable to tell if the racing heartbeat was from the electrocution or the memories.

“I… am under… contract. Alastor… is s-staff.” Lute ground out, still thankful when Vox cut the feed. She didn’t need a reminder of that moment, she saw it often enough when she tried to sleep.

“As I said Vox, stickler for the rules here. As long as I’m staff at this hotel, our little security officer is obligated to protect me.” Alastor, unmoved by the reminder of his own brutality. He even tried to rest a hand on Lute’s shoulder but Lute slapped it away with a snarl. His expression dropped a fraction at that but he simply continued on as if nothing happened. “Our dear Princess has rather invested quite a bit of time and effort into getting this girl back on her feet. I rather doubt she’d be very appreciative. You start a fight here, she gets involved and inevitably destroyed, and you buy yourself a mess of trouble.” Alastor using her as a kind of shield turned Lute’s stomach, but if it stopped the fight before it started, then she’d just have to take it. This had already gone farther than she wanted. Charlie and Vaggie were sure to be disappointed in her for the damage that had already been done.

“... Not quite the threat you think it is. She could always… walk away. Pretend she didn’t see anything.” Vox’s face flashed a bit, drawing Lute’s eyes back to him. He seemed cautious, still wagering how much trouble he was willing to get into over this… still, he did have something of a point. Sure a few people knew she went looking for Alastor and Vox, but it wouldn’t be that hard to sell that she just… didn’t find them before a fight broke out. She’d already been fried for her troubles, what was the harm in backing off now? “Honestly. You know exactly how dangerous he is. You’re like the Princess’ bodyguard or whatever now? If you want to keep her safe, getting rid of him is gonna be step fucking one. Can’t you see? I’m doing the right thing, protecting everyone in Hell from him . I’m the good guy here. ”

“... Not the… worst idea.” Lute mumbled, eyes fixed on Vox. Honestly, how many things might have gone better in her life if she had just averted her eyes and walked away? She could have left the hotel alone and avoided getting demoted, dewinged, and banished. Fuck. She could have averted her eyes from Vaggie’s actions years ago and saved everyone a lot of headaches. Everything Alastor did to her, why should she help him? They’d only have his word to go on that she abandoned her duty and they knew he was an awful liar… If he even survived. She’d felt how powerful Vox was, she really didn’t want to fight that. She should just… Lute’s attention drifted to one of Vox’s eyes, which had some spiraling circle pattern to it. That felt… oddly important. She couldn’t remember why. She’d wasted enough time here, she needed to think of some alibi for why she didn’t intervene. Hadn’t… hadn’t Alastor said something about Vox’s eye? His left eye. That was the one that was doing the thing… Hypnosis. 

The realization snapped her mind into focus. Her thoughts were not her own. The intrusions in her mind felt foreign, wrong, like shards of glass sunk into her brain. How fuckming dare he try and fuck with her mind. Boiling anger rose in a surge from her core and flooded her mind, replacing Vox’s suggestions and ejecting the terrible thoughts from her mind.

“Do. Not. Try. That. Again.” Lute’s tone actually made Vox blink in surprise, shocked that she had managed to brute force her way through his influence. Her flaws flashed out, angelic steel glinting in the reflection of his screen. The temptation to call the Guitar down was intense, but that was the last resort. “Final warning. Leave or be removed.”

“Well, can’t blame me for trying.” Vox took a long and deep sigh, shaking his head. For a moment, Lute actually thought he might have calmed down enough to leave but instead his expression turned dark again. “Sunk cost at this point. I've already wasted my time, charred the angel and gotten unreasonably pissed off. Might as well get something for my trouble… like Alastor's smoking corpse. ”

“Oh Vox, you never learn… but I am always happy to teach.” Alastor went back on the offensive, his black tendrils rising up to meet the growing arcs of electricity in the air.

Lute just sighed. She'd tried. Heaven help her she'd tried. Resigned, she put her fists up and took an offensive stance. Still, in that sense of resignation there was a tiny buzz of something else. Hard to tell if that was lingering nerve damage or the faint hint of excitement. In truth, she was curious to see what a battle between Overlords was like. Being right in the middle was… enticing. She would have to be cautious about getting shocked again, no more grappling, if she was going to touch him it would have to be with a blow that dealt more damage than she would get in blowback. Fighting alongside Alastor would be a curious experience, she imagined they could be effective together with her in melee and him supporting from a distance..m. She'd just have to worry about friendly fire.

The tension continued to build, static electricity and radio static rising in the air like competing forces to the point it was starting to physically hurt to simply stand between them. Her eyes caught a subtle twitching of Vox's finger, he was about to strike. Bracing herself to dodge, trying to decide whether to move right or left-

“ Enough .”

The word was not shouted, nor even spoken in anger. Quiet and calm in such a way it shouldn't have even been audible over the screaming static and crackling energy yet all the same it extinguished the tension of the room with all the effort of a breath snuffing a candle. All three of them went deathly still. A strange chill ran along Lute's spins as she was overwhelmed with the sensation of something watching her. Something… old. Despite the light from the many windows, the room went suddenly dim. Shadows stretched and shifted strangely across the floor, growing thick and liquid like pooling ink. The liquid shadow condensed in the center of the room, surging upward into a pillar of darkness that shifted and solidified into a tall dark figure. Draped in a tightly wrapped cloak, four green glowing eyes peeking out from under the brim of a patchwork tophat. Lute recognized him from Vaggie’s portfolio. Zestial, The Ancient Overlord. That seemed an apt descriptor. Lute had met several truly ancient beings in her time, such as Lucifer or Sera, and generally found that true immortals didn’t tend to carry the weight of their age in the same way mortals did. Mortals often wore the weight of centuries for all to see, embracing it rather than attempting to keep up with the modern day. For no one was that more true than Zestial. He was truly old. Old like the forgotten dark basement of a dusty manor with a bloody history or like the dark and silent depths of an ancient forest untouched by man. Something ancient, unknowable, and deeply dangerous.

“Alastor. Vox. Gentlemen such as yourselves ought to honor a lady's entreaty for peace.” Zestial admonished the two Overlords, though there was a slightly amused tint to his tone rather like a kindly old man reprimanding his unruly grandchildren. Lute noted a flash of something very much like fear across the faces of the two feuding Overlords but they repressed it quickly, their monstrous magic sealing away seconds later as they heeded the words of the ancient creature in their midst. The mere presence of this man seemed to have rendered these men on the verge of exploding to quite docile and nervous creatures in an instant.

“... Quite the surprise to see you, my good man. I… cannot say I foresaw you taking an interest in the hotel.” Alastor managed to recover first, trying to play things off as if he hadn’t been about to tear the building apart.

“Yes… Interesting timing too.” Vox said, relaxing his posture a bit but not entirely. He was a good bit more openly skittish than Alastor, still looking like he was ready to fight or bolt, but shifting away from Zestial either way.

“In truth, this ‘Hotel’ did appear no more than a mere flight of fancy, yet I bore witness to the most curious spectacle. An Exorcist decrying the sacred deeds of her own kith and kin in favor of the Princess' vision of redemption? I simply had to behold it with mine own eyes.” Zestial said as he… Well, he didn’t walk exactly. The figure seemed to glide over the floor without rustling his tattered cloak, stopping as he loomed high above them, Lute actually had to crane her neck back to look the creature in his eyes. The damn thing was nearly as tall as Sera. that unearthly chill only strengthened as Zestial drew closer, making Lute take a cautious step back. “Prithee, forgive mine intrusion, but I could not refrain from bearing witness to this small contention betwixt the two of thee. Mine intervention might have come sooner, yet I longed to see how steadfast were the beliefs of this little angel. To stand in defense of a soul as dark and twisted as the Radio Demon, merely for the sake of his alliance, is a sign of honor not oft seen in Hell.” Zestial turned his attention down towards Lute, looking rather impressed.

“... you stood around and waited for them to fight… to test me?” Lute blinked, staring up at the ancient overlord. This thing could cow Vox and Alastor with a word yet it hid in the shadows until after Lute got fucking electrocuted for trying to stop them? Even Vox and Alastor looked like they felt a little used by the idea.

“Indeed, many may profess conviction, yet few do remain steadfast when tried. Count me impressed. Nevertheless, I would not suffer such great ruin to arise o'er so meager a dispute. This be royal land, after all, not to be disturbed, a truth my companions ought to know well.” This time, Zestial’s tone was a little more critical, turning his attention off Lute to glare at Alastor and Vox, who both seemed suddenly rather interested in things that were not Zestial.

“Well, Vox has indeed been quite troublesome today. I can see why you’d come to admonish him.” Alastor smirked, pretending to be casually inspecting his nails when Vox glared at him.

“Fuck you Al, you were egging me on and you know it.” Vox snarled, pointing an accusing finger at the man that Alastor lightly swatted away. 

“Doesn’t change the fact that you started it.” Alastor replied in a fashion that couldn’t be more obviously childish if he’d stuck his tongue out. Sparks crackled around Vox, but Zestial’s voice firmly cut him off.

“Gentlemen, thy history is known to me; thus am I aware of the tension betwixt you. Yet, perhaps, it would serve both well to place some distance 'twixt yourselves. Allow your blood to cool ere one doth take an action they shall regret.” a subtle hint of threat laced the words, which both men clearly caught onto. A glance was shared between them, but obviously their pride wouldn’t allow them to just bend to Zestial’s demands so blatantly.

This time, Vox was the one to act first. A buzzing sound rang out from him, a completed timer flashing an alarm across his face before being dismissed with a gesture. After it was gone, Vox’s face adopted a more casual indifference as if this had all been little more than a boring business meeting. 

“Would you look at that, that should be the end of the Princess’ Q and A session. She was supposed to do a tour right? Wanted to catch that before I leave, get a proper review for the stay at home crowd.” Vox shrugged, turning on his heel to move away. It was a shitty excuse and he had obviously faked the alarm, but whatever worked for his ego. He didn’t get far, a long bony arm reaching out from the depths of Zestial’s cloak and gripping his shoulder, making the man visibly shiver.

“A moment. Vox, mine dear friend. Would it not be somewhat uncouth to refuse to tidy thy mess?” Zestial said, phrasing it as a question but his intent was clear as she gestured to the sparking wires hanging out of busted light sockets around the room.

“Ah… right. Of course.” Vox looked briefly angry, but swallowed his flicker of annoyance. Pulling himself out of Zestial’s grip and snapping his fingers. Instantly, the damaged wires and sockets sucked back into their hding places and some of the hidden light sources around the room flickered back to life as he seemingly restored the damaged circuitry with ease. Lute noted a slight chuckle, seeing Alastor’s grin widen in amusement at Zestial’s treatment of Vox but karma was quick to put the man in his place as Zestial turned his four eyes upon Alastor as well.

“Alastor. A burden shared is a burden halved.” he said simply, making Alastor roll his jaw in an annoyed fashion but hios smile stayed cheerful as ever.

“True, Vox never did agree with wood floors.” Alastor waved his hand, the blackened lines that Vox’s lightning had carved into the floor faded away as if they’d never existed. Vox just huffed, apparently all argued out as he opted to just stomp his way out of the room. The ease at which the two men had fixed the damage they had done made Lute question why they’d even needed to be prompted to do so but they were probably both used to leaving the mess for other people to clean up. “If Vox is going, I suppose I should be making my way as well. The Princess has things in hand and the broadcast is due to resume soon. Good day to you Zestial and thank you for the attempt to help, Lute.” with a dismissive wave, Alastor turned away and faded into shadows as he left as well.

Lute just stood there, blinking in quiet confusion. That had been… strange… and a little disappointing? She had wanted to stop a fight from happening, which she had mostly done, though both at a cost and not without ‘help’. It wasn’t her finest moment. Now that the adrenaline was fading, Lute raised her still trembling hand and frowned at what she saw. Thankfully, her glove had gone some distance towards protecting her palm but not much. Merely gripping Vox’s arm for several seconds had left the flesh of her fingers burnt and left a curling and branching path of burnt flesh crawling down the inside of her forearm where the current had spread into her body. Flexing the limb proved to be profoundly painful but still functional. As the injury was not born of holy weaponry, it should heal with time so really the only concern was hiding it from Vaggie or The Princess, who were likely to give her an earful over the whole incident if they found out. Just as she considered this, she noticed Zestial reaching his hand out to offer a small old fashioned cloth bandage rolled. Shit, he’d been so quiet that Lute thought he’d left as well. She glanced suspiciously at the bandage, then up at the calmly smiling Overlord.

“... You’ve been oddly helpful, I assume you want something.” Lute said, still not taking the offered bandage. One should always been suspicious of aid or gifts from a demon, especially something as powerful as this creature. Even the bandages could well carry hidden curses and enchantments.

“Thou art wise to hold such belief, yet mine own motives serve myself enough to satisfy… this time, at the least.” Zestial laughed, a sound that was somehow more unsettling and disturbing than the screaming in Alastor’s radio show. He gently tossed the bandage towards Lute, which she caught on reflex. It didn’t seem to immediately start sucking out her soul or infect her wounds so it was probably fine? “Men of ambition, as they are, oft require reminders that their power is not absolute, and they must respect the laws of the realm to which they are bound. a reminder I am oft most willing to provide.”

“I see.” Easy enough to guess that this Zestial’s motives were not purely towards keeping peace, but that was a good enough excuse to frequently reestablish himself at the top of the pecking order. He, at the very least, didn’t seem to have any immediate designs on Lute and she had merely benefited from being in proximity and satisfying his bizarre curiosity. She set about wrapping the bandage around her forearm, wincing at the contract with the damaged skin. It wasn't as neat as The Princess could do, but it would be enough to keep the wound from staining her shirt so she could roll down the sleeves and hide it. “Are you not worried that it will inspire others to combine forces against you?”

“They can surely try. Would an act so simple be the key to bring about mine final demise, I might have perished centuries ago. I am an ancient child, and have endured much grander plights in my time, even the first Exterminations could not claim my soul.” Zestial gave that haunting laugh of his again. Lute paused her wrapping. Ah. Now Lute understood why Vox and Alastor became rather docile in his presence. That meant that Zestial was at least 500 years old or more. The first Exterminations had been before her time but according to Adam they had been particularly brutal campaigns that wiped out huge swaths of Hell's population and destroyed Hell's greatest warriors. This Zestial had to either be extremely powerful or extremely clever to have survived so long…. Likely both.

“... And something so ancient just happened to find me interesting enough to ‘test’?” she asked.

“These eyes have borne witness to much in the passage of ages, yet oft have I seen naught so curious as Fallen Angels such as thyself. Thy companion hath already shown her stalwart heart to stand 'gainst the might of Heaven; 'twas my wish to discern if thou art cut of the same cloth.”

“Vaggie is a better woman than I, of that much I can assure you.” Lute stated matter-of-factly as she pulled the bandages tight, hissing a little but otherwise fine. “Besides, I'm not a Fallen Angel yet, just… cast out.” 

“Tis only a matter of time.” Zestial replied cryptically. Lute considered him. He seemed to imply that he'd seen Angels fall before, how much did he know about the process? … How much would that information cost? Likely more than she could afford, she was already in debt to the Princess as it is. 

Apparently the old adage about speaking of the Devil was true, as soon as the thought of the Princess crossed her mind Lute became aware of a group of approaching footsteps. She quickly adopted parade rest, hiding her injured arm behind her back as the Princess led a group of Sinners into the banquet hall. The whole procession stopped short at the sight of her and Zestial, the Princess blinking in surprise. Alongside her, Husk and Vaggie both gave Lute different flavors of questioning glares. She'd have to answer some questions after the fact… she also noticed a grumpy looking Vox hanging around the back of the group, feigning surprise at the sight he walked in on.

“Oh there you are, Lute- uh… Hello there. It’s been awhile, Mister Zestial. The Princess looked surprised to see the towering Overlord but didn’t cower like the crowd of Sinners behind her. Been awhile? Did the Princess know this thing?

“Your Majesty, 'tis ever a delight to see you.” Probably the greatest surprise of the day was that Zestial made a deep and formal bow towards the Princess, addressing her with the proper respect due to her position. Seriously? Out of all the demons in Hell that ought to bend the knee to the royal family, its the mysterious all powerful overlord that actually remembers his fucking manners? Apparently he had simply been around long enough to know better. “ Prithee forgive my intrusion, for thou knowest I have ever been a fervent admirer of thy father's architectural marvels. Whispers did circulate that this chamber in particular was a wondrous sight, thus I felt compelled to witness it with mine own eyes and indeed this truly be a grand work of art.” Zestial drifted to the side, running a bony finger along the frame of the stained glass window depicting what must have been a dark ocean in the Ring of Envy. Turning towards Lute, he gave a small wink before turning back to the Princess. “It was my understanding that the Hotel was open for viewing on this day, yet in retrospect, mayhap 'twas discourteous of me to neglect to seek thy leave. Thy loyal angel here was in the midst of bestowing a well-deserved reprimand for the breach of protocol.”

“... Yes.” Lute frowned at the Overlord, trying to figure out why he was lying on her behalf, but his enigmatic smile gave nothing away. “I… found him wandering around, didn’t think an Overlord should be walking around the hotel unobserved. I wasn’t aware that you were familiar with this man.”

“Ooooh, okay then.” The Princess nodded, either being very willing to just go along with whatever narrative was being spun or genuinely being that trusting. Hard to tell with her at times. Vaggie’s flat look was a little more suspicious, but they could talk later when it wouldn’t frighten the guests. “Yeah, Zestial is an old friend of the family. Mom and Dad have had him visit the manor a few times, political stuff that I wasn’t involved with. Well, glad to have you here at the hotel, are you going to join us for the tour?”

“Nay, 'tis kind of thee to offer, but I do believe I have seen all I need see this day. Good day to you and do convey my well wishes to thy father when next thou dost encounter him.” Zestial said, chuckling to himself at some hidden joke. With that, he raised up both his arms, revealing a glowing spider pattern on the inside of his cloak. Dropping his arms down, his cloak gave off a wave of shadowy smoke and wind that swirled about the room, nearly knocking all except for Vox and the Princess to their feet. When the darkness cleared, Zestial was entirely gone.

“Insufferably dramatic.” Vox huffed, idly fixing the collar of his coat from where the wind had ruffled it.

“You should see my aunts and uncles.” the Princess laughed, oblivious to the way that everyone in the room stared at her… then to the tall portraits of the deadly sins on the far walls, then back to her. It was like some people genuinely forgot exactly who Charlie was. 

Taking a moment to subtly roll down and rebutton her sleeves to hide her bandaged arm, Lute simply moved forward to join the group as the Princess happily went back to her tour, chatting on about some of the features and uses of the banquet hall. There would be questions to answer later, but she’d already been through a lot today and it wasn’t even lunch time yet. She could use a few minutes to just sit back and observe.

—

It had been one Hell of a day. 

Vox stepped out the hotel’s doors with a half hearted wave and smile, his expression dropped away with a weary sigh. Coming here had been a mistake, Velvette told him it would be but as usual he let his impulses get the better of him. He’d thought he had a good chance to get under Alastor’s skin and try to get some hint to his plans but he’d ended up letting Alastor get to him.

Vox tightened and relaxed his hands several times. He’d lost his cool. Badly. Even worse, he’d accidentally given Alastor a new tool to fuck with him. That was a critical lapse in self control. Major set back in dealing with that scheming shitlord. Alastor threatening Velvette had just… set him off, he wasn’t entirely sure why. Well, he was. Breaking up any part of the Vees would set him back decades of work, make him far too vulnerable. Losing Valentino was a risk, sure, but Val was ultimately a thick headed bruiser. Someone like Velvette would be nearly impossible to replace. She was too critical to their empire. That was why he got so heated. No other reason. Still, that had been stupid to let his emotions show. If only he’d actually gotten the chance to at least break his jaw or something but between that annoying angel and Zestial, he didn’t get the chance.

That Angel was also a problem. She’d bothered him twice today. Vox was used to dealing with people who were a little more… risk adverse. Lute seemed entirely willing to throw herself on a spike to accomplish something. It was a dangerous attitude, even if she wasn’t directly a threat yet. Physically strong and packing dangerous weaponry, but not terribly intelligent. A conceivably manageable threat but still yet another headache added to his ever growing migraine.

Vox would have to find some new angle of attack against Alastor , it was time to get back to planning. The news crew van was still waiting nearby as they packed up their equipment, all he needed to do was borrow someone’s phone to zap his way back to the tower and get far, far away from this headache. Of course, as soon as he made even a single step in that direction a voice called out to Vox, because of fucking course it did. Fuck his life.

“Overlord Vox, a moment.” 

Oh, great. She was back. 

Vox didn’t waste any effort on putting on his usual fake smile as he quickly turned around to look down at the White haired angel. At least she had been respectful enough to use his title, but her expression held as much disdain for him as he felt for her. They were on the same page.

“Haven’t we seen enough of each other today?”

“Unfortunately no, you dropped something.” She said simply, holding out the closed fist of her metal hand.

Dropped something? He glanced down at his coat, had he lost a button or something? Didn’t seem like it. Curious, he lifted a hand and held it out for Lute to drop whatever she was holding. There was a crackle and sparks that came between her steel fingers as she tightened her fist, before opening up and dropping a handful of broken pieces of metal and plastic into his hand.

Vox frowned at the ruined spy cameras sitting in his palm. Another shitty cherry on top of the fucked up sundae that had been this awful morning. He honestly thought he’d placed those rather well. Lute was apparently rather observant.

“Vox. I want to make something clear.” the Angel began, keeping an intense glare on him but she didn’t necessarily seem angry, just very serious. “I like Alastor about as much as you do. I only helped him today because my contract compels me to do so for as long as he is staff. Unless that changes he is technically under my protection, but my loyalties are only to the Princess and Vaggie. It's my job to protect them from any possible threat, no matter the source.”

“... I see.” Vox gave a small nod, catching onto what she was implying. Given what he’d seen on the cameras, it wasn’t hard to guess that Lute hated Alastor, but he was picking up on the subtext she was trying to get across to him. There was likely some clause in her contract that might remove any potential protections she was meant to extend to Alastor if his actions either turned against the hotel or, more likely, the Princess. That was somewhat useful information.

“The hotel isn’t your enemy. The Princess would honestly prefer to stay as far out of your business as is reasonably possible. I couldn’t give a damn about the politics of it. I protect the hotel and the people in it. If you keep trying to become a threat to the hotel… Well, I’m not sure if I can beat you yet, but apparently you’ve seen how my fight with Alastor went. You can be damn sure that I will hurt you. ” Lute snarled up at him. 

“Message received.” He’d had more creative threats from much more powerful people. He wasn’t intimidated, but this angel was very serious about her words. Given what he’d seen so far, he could at least trust that if it came down to it, she would indeed try to make good on that threat. “I’ll keep what you’ve said in mind. Good day.”

Not wanting to waste anymore time on cultivating the pounding headache this day had given him, Vox turned on his heel and began marching his way towards the van. He wasn’t exactly happy about being threatened and the thought had occurred to him to drop a lightning bolt on the Angel, but he’d dealt with enough today and didn’t want to test if Zestial or some other powerful asshole was lurking around to stop him this time… hmm… begrudgingly, he had to admit that Lute had something almost resembling a point. While attacking the hotel and its reputation seemed an easy way to get to Alastor, it was far more likely that the Princess was going to end up being the victim of alastor’s scheming rather than an accomplice. It was a situation he knew unfortunately well.

Maybe he could consider treating The Radio Demon and The Hazbin Hotel as separate topics rather than one big problem. It would have to be something he thought about further. Right now, he all he fucking wanted was a break.

Chapter Text

“U-uhm… Well, you see…that's different. Uh, Lute is-”

Tap. Bzzzt.

“ -Seems you folks had some much more recent issues with her.”

She replayed the broadcast for what felt like the hundredth time. Watching Vox up to his usual tricks was more than a little grating after so many repeats. He'd picked up entirely too many of Alastor's bad habits and never fully rid himself of them. Otherwise he was…. Fine as Overlords went. More or less. She'd dealt with worse. It wasn't like she had a good reason to actually hate him… she just thought he was likely to be a bad influence on Velvette. She really could have picked better-

“Focus, Carmilla.” She chided herself. That situation was unfortunately out of her control. Her current task was one she could control and it required utmost precision and focus. Finger hovering over her keyboard, Carmilla narrowed her attention to only one of the screens Vox conjured to show the newly cast out Exorcist's attack on the hotel staff. Vox was usually so careful with his editing, but this appeared to have been a rush job. He'd left in one very small detail that she was sure he’d have tried to omit otherwise.

Riiight… there. After so many tries, she finally managed to pause the feed on the exact right frame. An image of the angel, Lute, carving into one of Alastor's black tentacles with a golden axe or rather, a golden guitar. It was only shown for a handful of frames before it merely blinked out of existence as Lute retreated out of frame. Carmilla sat back in her chair, looking at the image on the screen. It was blurred and glitched because of Alastor’s strange anathema to digital media, but it was clear enough to recognize the weapon. She thought she’d seen the last of it when Adam used it during the Extermination but apparently not. Conventional wisdom might have assumed that authorities on high would have reclaimed such a potent relic after the First Man’s demise but things had a way of falling through the cracks. Quite literally and quite frequently. Speaking of which, perhaps she could convince Vaggie to have the new angel bring the weapon by during her next visit.

No… likely not. Vaggie had turned out to be fairly trusting but she was far from stupid. Between the two of those Exorcists, they would at least have a vague concept of how powerful that weapon was and know better than to hand it off to an Overlord… at least not for free. Carmilla was rarely one to approach another with an offer, better to let people come to her and have the upper hand in negotiations but she might make an exception to get her hands on that particular relic. It was obviously bonded to the Lieutenant so she couldn’t fully take possession of it without killing her, which… Carmilla wouldn’t put the option entirely off the table should she become a personal threat but for now she wasn’t giving it much thought. There was a way to divest someone from their bond to a relic but it was an extremely archaic and convoluted ritual that required the wielder and the relic to be willing to part ways. Negotiating that kind of bargain would be all but impossible; the weapon itself was worth fortunes, cities, palaces, kingdoms. Priceless… even if one could negotiate the trade, none of that implied that the weapon itself would accept. Relics that old had opinions . 

Possessing the item for her own was likely out of the question. Getting it into her hands for study was more realistic, but would still be pricey. For all her centuries of study into the art of forging Heavenly weapons, she’d yet to unlock the secrets to creating relics, being able to study one may very well be the thing that helped her finally vault that final hurdle. There was no rush though, she could take her time to find something that would entice them with an honest deal rather than resort to force. Trickery had its place, but mortals tended to resort to it too quickly. Time and patience would serve her better here, both things she held in abundance.

Clicking off the screen, Carmilla rose from her seat and paced across her office. She considered her tea set but quickly moved on. That particular angel dropping into Hell with that particular weapon meant  trouble. The Princess had displayed unexpected (and likely unintentional) wisdom in tying the girl to her, otherwise Demons and Sinners alike would be hunting her to the ends of Hell. The overhanging threat of retaliation from the Morningstar family was a decent stopgap but it wasn't perfect. The Law of Retribution only held away if one could prove who was at fault with witnesses or testimony. A clever assassin and a lot of patience could still see that weapon trading hands and people would likely be considering that once more people caught onto the weapon's presence. That would be all kinds of new and exciting varieties of headaches, hence her leaving the tea in favor of the liquor cabinet.

After some consideration, she plucked up a nice looking Amontillado. Nothing too heavy, just something to soothe her nerves. She typically avoided drinking during the workday anyway, with some rare exceptions that almost always involved either an explosion or Velvette. Carmilla set to pouring herself a glass, considering the situation at play. She had been a fool, too excited to study the prosthetic’s enchantments to ask Vaggie for the exact identity of the other recently fallen Exorcist. If Carmilla had known that the Exorcist Lieutenant had been the one to get cast down then she might have asked a few more questions. Of all things, she hadn’t anticipated that. 

What a mess.

But how to go about cleaning it up? She had already gotten rather involved with Vaggie, not on purpose exactly but the girl proved clever and skilled enough to continue to work with. Letting any angel wander around Hell unsupervised had the potential to turn disastrous given some time. Vaggie had apparently been down here for some years, but given all the increased stresses since the battle at the hotel, Carmilla had been noticing her starting to change but it was still slow so the girl didn’t seem in danger of falling anytime soon. She could be guided safely and one day make both a good ally and political connection to the princess. 

The other angel though… glimpses from Vox’s recordings implied that she was much less stable. That could prove dangerous. It was hard to tell if it was worth Carmilla getting involved or if it might do better to simply sit back and watch her self-destruct. The second option, while a little heartless, came with the bonus of being able to collect her relic at the end. She sipped her drink, taking some comfort in the flavor of it and trying to let the over complicated thoughts drift to the wayside for now. Whatever option it came down to, she should probably sleep on it before committing to anything. 

Stepping over to her window, Carmilla considered the view of the city below as she idly swirled her wine. Her office, lined with magically reinforced bulletproof glass, had been specifically placed to offer her the best possible view of Pentagram City… even if that view wasn't always spectacular, some decades the city looked better than others. Still, it offered a good vantage point nonetheless. Sure, she likely could have found a better view if she had opted to settle in the lush climate of Gluttony or the rolling countryside of Wrath but she still had a duty to the Ring of Pride. Her mission to bring order to its chaos would never end, but at least she could afford to indulge in the finer things while she worked. Good wine, ballet, nice clothes, finely made furniture, and the many other comforts of wealth. She'd wasted centuries on forced austerity, thankfully she'd outgrown that habit. She'd worked hard for everything she had, there was no reason to not enjoy it.

The buzz of her intercom interrupted her musings, followed by a familiar voice. 

‘ Hola mamá , mail for you!” came the cheery voice of her youngest daughter, Clara. Well, that was a surprise. Unclear if it was a good or bad surprise yet, Odette had taken to handling most of the work related mail and only involving her when there was something to sign or review. If Clara was delivering it to her, then it was likely personal mail, which didn't happen often. Either way, a visit from her daughters was usually a boon to her mood… most of the time.

Setting her wine down on her desk, Carmilla tapped a button to unlock the door. As it slid open, Carmilla held out her arms in anticipation of what was to follow. No sooner had the door given war, Clara leaped across the room in a blur of motion to tackle her mother in a hug. Carmilla accepted it gladly. Clara had always been the most energetic and affectionate of her children, while it wasn't behavior that Carmilla would encourage in a public setting for fear of looking unprofessional, she was happy to indulge such behavior in private.

When she finally released the girl and lowered her to the ground, she smiled at her daughter but immediately frowned. The girl was fairly streaked with dark streaks of grime.

“Clara, my dear, what have I told you about cleaning up after you leave the shooting range?” Carmilla sighed, looking down at the hint of smudges that had been transferred to her own clothing. Clara looked down at her hands, puzzled as if only just now noticing her state. She merely shrugged, hopping up to sit on the edge of Carmilla's desk and making the woman wince. 

“Sorry, it slipped my mind. Been a busy day.” The girl could be entirely too laid back, but thankfully she was enthusiastic about her work.

“Can you at least tell me if this is ash or grease?” Carmilla asked, stepping around to rifle through her desk and find something to start cleaning off the offending grime.

“A bit of both, there is always a bit of grease or oil by the end of the day but it's mostly ash. The Jericho exploded. Again.” Clara rubbed a bit of the stuff between her fingers, nonplussed. Ah, wonderful, that was quite a lot of money gone up in smoke.

“Do I get any good news to go with that?”

“Well, it does deliver the payload and that payload has the kind of punch behind it you were looking for, so that's not an issue. One shot could blow a hole in a building and seems to shred most types of magical shielding.” Clara explained. That was good at least, she'd been worrying all that time studying mana geometry had been a waste, but it seemed the antimagic rounds were proving effective. Unfortunately even a single round was both time consuming and monstrously expensive to produce. Clara shrugged and continued, “The issue is it can only manage the one shot. The round turned the barrel to slag and we are fairly sure that the recoil would turn most people’s bones to fine powder. Horace and Daniel are going to be reviewing the footage tonight to try and figure out what went wrong and hopefully get you something by morning.”

“Back to the drawing board then. Few more months of work minimum.” Carmilla sighed, taking some wipes and dabbing at the transferred marks on her clothes. She’d likely have to get it laundered. She adored her daughters, but all of them had some unfortunate habits. Clara’s overly carefree nature and tendency to make messes, Odette’s obsessive figure collecting, and Velvette’s… independent streak. Such was the burden of motherhood, but it was one she was happy to bear. “Right, what was this about mail?”

“Oh right, from your secret admirer~ ” Clara said, teasingly as she pulled out a neat black envelope with a familiar wax seal. Carmilla rolled her eyes at her daughter’s teasing, they knew full well who it was from. Zestial’s letters came anonymously for security reasons but her daughters had well caught on. Zestial was many things, subtle was not one of them.

“Thank you very little.” snatching the note and setting it on her desk, it wouldn’t do to read it while Clara was still in the room. Carmilla turned to her daughter, who at this point would normally be itching to run off back to R&D to tinker with something or other now that her delivery was completed, but the fact that the girl was still sitting on the edge of her desk implied she had something on her mind. Carmilla raised an eyebrow and gave her ‘the look’, one of motherhood’s most powerful tools.

Clara’s smile faded as the girl looked down, kicking her legs a bit as she chewed on her thoughts. 

“So… Odette told me that Velvette dropped by. Is she… doing okay?” Clara asked without looking up.

Ah, yes. Carmilla should have expected this. Even compared to Carmilla’s own issues with Velvette's decision to leave, Clara had taken it the hardest. They used to be so close, Velvette had once adored both her younger sisters but she and Clara had been nigh inseparable. Unfortunately, when Velvette decided to leave and tried to convince her siblings to follow, they chose to stay and the argument that followed… Well, it was best not to dwell on the past.

“She is doing fine. I ended up having to talk her down from some bad ideas but at least she still has the good sense to listen to me at least a little.” Carmilla said, getting at least an attempted smile from her daughter. She couldn’t go into details about what they had discussed. Even if she didn’t like it, Velvette had earned the title of Overlord and that was to be respected. Any meeting between Overlords, even Carmilla and Velvette, were private affairs. Her daughters had to accept that they weren’t in a position to be privy to all of her secrets. Clara thankfully didn’t press for details. “... I had hoped that she might visit you when she had finished talking to me, but I suppose that didn’t happen.”

“Yeah, no. Still nothing.” Clara sighed and rubbed at her wrist, massaging at an old wound. An accident. “It's been years, I know she barely talks to you guys either… but- I dunno. Just hoped for something, I guess.”

“Clara.” Carmilla placed her hand on the side of her face and tilted her head up to look at her. Clara leaned into the touch, taking what comfort she could find. “Your sister doesn’t hate you, I know that much. If anything, she likely feels guilty over what happened and can’t bring herself to face you. You know how stubborn Velvette is, never able to admit when she’s wrong. Time heals all wounds, even this, even if it still takes years. You’re both still so young, you have centuries yet to work things out.”

Clara didn’t look exactly happy about that, but gave a small nod as she accepted Carmilla’s words. Carmilla braved getting her outfit dirty again to pull the girl into another hug. For as long as she had wanted a family of her own, she had never anticipated quite all the complications that came with it. One day she would figure out how to make it right.

For now at least, Clara nodded as she pulled away and went off back to find something to occupy her mind. Carmilla watched her go, shaking her head as she picked up her wine glass again and draining it in a gulp. She’d wanted to enjoy it, but today was proving to not be one she could relax. Speaking of which. Carmilla eyed the letter warily.

Zestial was more prone to simply appearing in his office when he wanted to talk. Centuries of building her defenses and she couldn’t have kept him out of her office even if she wanted to. Written communication was typically a sign that the contents were important or Zestial himself was rather busy. Deciding to just dive into it rather than putting it off, Carmilla tore it open with a claw. At least her oversized claws were good for something.

It read as follows:

Dearest Carmilla,

My good lady, I do hope, as ever, that this missive find thee in fine mood and good health. Alas, I feel I must take this occasion to apologize in advance. Thou knowest that I typically harbor no desire to oppose thee in matters of politics, yet I have felt a burgeoning interest in the shifting tides of recent happenings. A new era approaches, no fool can deny it, and only a fool would not stand ready to seize opportunities such as this.

Thou art well aware of mine own envious nature; seeing that thou hast taken on somewhat of an apprentice, I have chosen to seek mine own once more. Perhaps I need not be so deeply involved with her as I was with my former apprentice, but the foundations have already been laid. She shall find her way to me in due time.

Clever as thou art, thou hast seen the wisdom in taking the Right Hand of the future Queen. I intend to grasp the Left.

Thy most humble and obedient servant,

Zestial.

As she read the last of the letter, Carmilla carefully sucked in a long, calming breath… then promptly tore the letter in half.

She was going to need more wine.

—

“Well, you look like shit.” Velvette said, as a flash and buzz drew her attention heralded the arrival of Vox’s return. The man, usually straight backed and confident, stumbled in with slouched shoulders and groaned as he dragged himself towards a chair. 

She tapped her pencil against her sketchbook, design work temporarily forgotten as she considered the way the man all but melted into his chair. His face was dim and miserable, plus the fact that he wasn’t immediately yapping about his success was usually a bad sign for him. She’d been keeping track of  the broadcast and she knew it hadn’t exactly worked out… great. He had them in the first half, but that white haired angel had fucked things up. To be fair, it had been pretty damn impulsive of Vox to go there directly, she’d told him to just send someone with an ear piece… but when Alastor was involved, Vox completely stopped thinking straight. In more ways than one. Dumbass.

She wanted to bitch him out for pulling the kind of stupid stunt they would usually scream at Valentino over… but the guy just looked terrible.Velvette sighed, setting her sketchbook down.

“So, didn’t go great then?” she asked.

“Nope.” Vox going monosyllabic was never a good sign.

“Saw the interview, could have gone better, but I think I can spin it with some time.” The actual Hotel situation didn’t really have much she could work with, but she had seen some interesting behavior with the Princess and those Angels. Literally everyone in Hell knew that the Princess was profoundly touchy feely, but Velvette was pretty sure that between the contract and that hug she could drum up some story about the Princess cheating on her girlfriend. It wasn’t the biggest scandal by any means, would be a lot better if the Princess was actually engaged but it might be enough to get people talking. At minimum, she hoped it would get Vox in a better mood.

“Why bother?” Vox sighed without moving. Damn, he usually loved a good scandal.

“Seriously?  Not interested at all? What fucking happened over there that got you so damn mopey?” Velvette asked. It wasn't that she was invested in Vox’s happiness or anything. Vox was a grown ass adult able to make his day wn mistakes, Velvette wasn't his fucking mother. But he was bringing the mood down. She'd taken the time to set up her sketchbook and all her drawing tools and it would be a huge pain to relocate to another room. That was why she bothered.

“... Got in a fight with Al. Didn't go well.”

“YOU FUCKING WHAT!?” Velvette yelled, uncaring of how her volume made Vox wince. She leaped up from her chair and stomped over to him, quickly looking over him. He didn't seem injured, but his fatigue did make a lot more sense if he might have overexerted himself. She was glad he didn't come back in piecess but she was still fucking pissed. She knew Vox’s judgment could be off when it came to Alastor and he let impulse get the better of him but she'd hoped that he'd be smart enough to keep it to publicly broadcast pissing matches, not actual fighting. “Vox, you fucking promised you weren't going to make a mess of things! This is the kind of shit I expect from Valentino, not you, you should fucking know better!”

“I know… he just got under my skin, it's what he does.” Vox groaned, tilting his head away from her. Annoyed, she just stomped around to the other side of the chair to force him to look at her.

“What in Fuck could he have possibly said to get you to jump dick first into a fight without backup?” Velvette crossed her arms as she glared down at him.

“He…” Vox trailed off, looking her in the eyes for once. There was… something in that look. Something Vox didn't want to admit. “It doesn't matter. I fucked up, lost my cool, whatever the fuck you want to call it. Tried to punch him but that stupid angel and Zestial showed up to pull us apart before it went anywhere.”

Zestial had intervened? That was odd. Of all people, she couldn't see him giving a single shit about that hotel. Maybe Carmilla asked him to step in? Or maybe he just needed an excuse to exert dominance over the other Overlords. Incredibly hard to tell with that decrepit fossil. Still, Velvette very much wanted to keep yelling at Vox over his stupidity… but the man looked so defeated and miserable that she found she didn't have the heart for it. No point if he wasn't going to fight back. Troublesome fucking man. Velvette shook her head and sighed.

“Well at least you're not dead, even if you should be.”

“Small blessings.” Vox agreed half-heartedly. 

Velvette continued to look down at Vox’s slouched figure. She was still annoyed, but the fight had died out of her system. Seeing Vox look this pathetic made her feel… something. Didn't feel good. Maybe it would stop if she got him to stop moping? Velvette was great at manipulating masses to fits of rage or convincing people to believe whatever lies she told them but actual interpersonal stuff wasn't really in her wheelhouse.

“... Would you feel less shit if I… sucked your dick or something? Or called Val to do it?” Velvette offered awkwardly. She wasn't really in the mood to do anything like that right now, but she'd do it if it helped Vox out of his funk. Guys usually liked that kind of thing. Certainly, the thought of getting his dick wet was about the only thing ever running through Valentino's head. 

To her surprise, Vox actually chuckled at that, making her cheeks warm. She hadn't intended it to be a joke.

“Thanks, that's… sweet of you to offer, but I'm not really feeling it today. Splitting Headache. Think I might have literally blown a fuse when I overcharged at Al.” Vox at least sounded a little less shit after that. Still, Velvette perked up a bit, that was something she actually knew how to fix.

“Then you should have led with that rather than laying around to bitch. You're overdue for a scan anyway. Come on, crybaby, let's get you hooked up.” Velvette said, giving a flick of her fingers that lifted Vox, chair and all, off the ground to float along at her side as she made her way over to Vox’s computer desk at the back of the room. Vox made a motion as if to protest  when his chair began to magically float but ultimately didn't have the energy for it. Resigned to his fate, Vox just tilted his head to allow for Velvette to plug in a few wires and hook him up to the computer. A buzz of static crossed his face as the connection was made but actually seemed to relax a bit afterwards.

Vox’s biomechanical nature had its ups and downs. His ability to integrate with technology and tap into the internet massively improved his cognition abilities and meshed well with his innate control of electricity… It did come with downsides, notably that he was subject to all the potential glitches  and mechanical failures that came with that technology and that required special care to fix. Thankfully, Velvette had gotten pretty good at this kind of thing over the years. 

“Anything interesting happen while I was out?” Vox asked, voice starting to sound a bit sleepy. Velvette didn't know why, but doing his diagnostic checks always seemed to put Vox into a relaxed, dreamy state. Exhausted as he already was, he'd probably be asleep in no time. With that in mind, Velvette set the scan to run at low priority so it would take longer. Vox would probably complain about wasted time but he was much less annoying after he had a nap.

“Not much, only had to put out one non-metaphorical fire” Velvette said offhandedly, more focused on pulling up a screen to check their inventory. They seemed to have most of Vox's typical replacement parts on hand so anything that came up in the scan should be a quick fix.

“Great. Fire. One more fucking thing. Please tell me it wasn't the server room again?” Vox groaned.

“It was.”

“ Fuuuuhuhuck .” Vox somehow managed to slump even deeper into his chair. “What did we lose?”

“Nothing really. Caught it pretty quickly. One of the servers will need to be replaced but thanks to some ‘brave’ interns I forced to brave the blaze, all the data was transferred to one of the backups before it was too damaged.” Velvette explained, turning around to flash Vox one of her smuggest grins. Sure, the two interns had been burned to a crisp in the act, but as a reward for their bravery Velvette was going to let them keep their jobs rather than sack them for letting it happen in the first place. Not that they could have really stopped it, she had no proof but she was pretty sure Valentino started the fire. Asshole was still pouting over that public dressing-down that Vox gave him on Friday.

“... Really?” Vox tilted his head up to look at her in surprise, then smiled as he began to relax again. Without more news to keep stressing him out, he was starting to lose the battle to stay awake. “Oh Velvette, what would I ever do without you?” He asked as he laid back, shifting to get more comfortable, his screen starting to dim a bit.

“Piss, scream, and die. Probably in that order.” Velvette said matter-of-factly, though she was preening just a bit. That got another chuckle out of him but he was clearly starting to drift off. All the computer work was done, she could get back to her sketching while the scan finished and Vox would remain blessedly quiet. Peace at last.

Velvette stood up, giving Vox one last look. She frowned, stepping around to his right side and fingering the fabric at the elbow of his right arm. Some weird yellow-brown flakey substance was stuck to his suit, staining the fine blue material.

“‘Ey, what the fuck is this shit? What have I said about you staining your good suits?” 

“Huh?” Vox replied sleepily, only half awake at this point. Velvette pulled off a fake and rubbed it between her fingers, Vox frowned at it but then it seemed to come to him after a few seconds and a yawn. “Ah… dried angel blood, I guess? Zapped the angel when she trapped my arm, must have fried her pretty good. Didn't really think about it at the time.”

All that fancy glowing gold turned to this ugly crust? Gross. Velvette wipes her fingers off on Vox’s suit. Maybe it could be cleaned, but in her opinion it was as good as trash. It was about time she put him in something new. More modern… well, modernish. He liked the 1959s look which was more or less acceptable. Hmm. Lower collar, get a proper tie, different type of suit as the tailcoat just wasn't doing it for her. The top hat could also go. A good, classic fedora was more his era anyway. Yes, she was starting to see the vision. That was something she would need to get sketching on soon.

“You hurt her without a holy weapon?” She asked, getting a lazy nod in response. Hmm. Maybe losing their wings and halos made angels vulnerable? Probably just the halo, because the one eyed one got her wings back somehow. She doubted it would be as easy as just yanking halos to kill more angels, there was probably some bullshit magic that made it so only other angels could do that, but it was interesting information to keep track of.

The thought reminded her of her conversation with Carmilla. There were very few things that rattled that woman, which Velvette could begrudgingly respect, but her sincere fear at the thought of Heaven's wrath had stuck in Velvette’s mind. 

She chewed on those thoughts for a minute, watching Vox start to drift off. She hadn't seen him this drained and in need of rest in years… seven years to be exact.

“... Hey Vox?”

“Yes, Velvette dear?” Came his sleepy reply.

“I think… we need to take a break. Drop the Heaven stuff, this hotel nonsense, leave Alastor alone for a bit. Focus on business.” Velvette suggested. Vox cracked an eye open to look at her, looking unhappy but didn't dismiss it outright.

“Explain.” He asked simply.

“We might as well shelve the Heaven conquest because we can't do it unless all the Overlords are with us and they're all too chicken shit to get on board.” They'd touched on this topic after the Overlord meeting, there had been some talk about trying again after the news of The Battle at the Hotel went public but interest in retaliation against Heaven had wanted after the Princess had somehow managed to convince Heaven into skipping the upcoming Extermination and claims that future ones would be ‘less brutal’, whatever that meant. It was a decent enough excuse for them to shift their focus towards more Hellish pursuits. Vox buzzed lightly with thought but gave a slight nod of agreement. “As for the hotel, I'll be honest. Never really gave a shit about it personally. The only reason that topic is on the table is because you and Valentino are obsessing over two men out of your reach. It's a distraction and I'm getting a little sick of it.”

“Unlike Val, I have a reason. Alastor is dangerous.” The attempted growl was not as threatening as Vox wanted it to be, considering it was capped off with a yawn.

“Reason or not, doesn't change the fact that you're acting like Valentino. Obsessed, falling behind on work, taking dumb fucking risks, I can go on.” Velvette glared back at him, making him shift away and grumble. She sighed and shook her head, allowing her annoyance to take a back seat and just a tiny drop of sympathy to enter her voice. “Listen, Vox. I know he's dangerous. I… I remember what happened. Still you're clearly letting him get to you, you need to back off and calm down. Don't gotta drop the topic completely, just ease off. You know Alastor better than anyone, the man moves at a fucking snail’s pace. Nothing is happening anytime soon and if he thinks you've backed off he might end up doing something a little more obvious to let you figure out what he's up to, yeah?”

Vox was quiet for a long few seconds at that, making a few grumbling noises in his throat before he gave a weary sigh.

“I guess I've been a little… irrational. I'll think about it.” Vox said after a fashion. That wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no. Velvette would have to work with that until she could yell at him properly when he woke up. It wasn't long after that until Vox's face dimmed completely and the V logo clicked into place over his screen to show he was in power saving mode. Asleep at last.

Velvette made her way back over to the couch, flopping down dramatically. That was hopefully one problem dealt with. Truth be told, Velvette would love to go back to business as usual and not have to hear about that stupid hotel for at least a fucking week. This was why she was the backbone of the Vees, she was usually the only one able to approach things rationally. Vox might have been the brains of the operation, but proximity to Alastor made him progressively stupider. Thankfully, he could be somewhat reasonable. On the other hand, Valentino was big, dumb, and powerful. The muscle… or at least, the surprisingly strong vestigial limb. Useful when pointed in the right direction, a lot less useful when his favorite twink wasn't in slapping distance. 

Vox would hopefully listen to her, he was smart enough to realize they actually had a business to run. Valentino would be harder to wrangle. It was only a matter of time until that idiot did something actually stupid and dangerous. Maybe she could find Valentino a new think to obsess over? Give the dog a bone. Probably not, he'd had Angeldust on a leash for decades. Could she just… buy him back from the Princess or something? She doubted she had anything on hand that the Princess of Hell would sell out a friend for. At least, not unless another angel dropped out of Heaven, little Miss Morningstar seemed to have a habit of collecting those. What if she just… had Angeldust assassinated? No, that was asking for months or years of Valentino bitching and screaming for vengeance.

Ugh. Sinners were so hard to fucking manage, getting irrational hangups about the weirdest things. Velvette was starting to see why Carmilla was stressed literally all the time. Velvette shivered as she picked up her sketchbook. The last thing she wanted to think about was becoming her mother.

—

Adam crossed his arms, he'd seen the angels do that when they were upset so he assumed that mimicking that body language might help get across to Sera exactly how unhappy he was. It didn't really seem to work, but there was only so much to do, Sera was almost half again his height. Small animals didn't always have a lot to intimidate the bigger ones with if they didn't have colorful feathers or spikes, which the angels had decided not to give him despite how much he asked. Still, he was bound and determined to make his displeasure known.

Sera, for her part, just sighed. Ironically, that was something that Adam was pretty sure the angels had picked up from him, he wasn't even sure if they needed to breathe.

“Adam, I do apologize, but I am afraid we cannot budge on this. Eve has to leave the garden. I know it is… inconvenient that this happened again, but we can fix it.” Sera tried her best to smile, but her patience was clearly wearing thin. “Once we finish… putting out some fires, we can get you a new wife.”

“I don't want a new wife , I want Eve.” Adam repeated again. Ugh, he really needed some way to keep track of how many times he repeated things. Hmm. Animals came in pairs, so if he thought of a repetition like part of a pair, then he'd repeated himself… a pair of pairs? Didn't sound right, he'd work on it. That wasn't important right now. Sure, he hadn't been very pleased when they said Lilith was ‘wrong’  but they didn't try to kick her out of the garden. He hadn't been fully put off either, he and Lily really didn't get along. Eve was different. Eve made him happy, and now they were trying to get rid of her. “You still have not said what's wrong with Eve. She looks fine.”

“She appears fine but… she has become defective and cannot remain in the garden.” Sera said, not actually explaining anything. Adam looked over at Eve, who was being held away from him by a big scary looking angel who had a face like an angry goat but a tail like a lizard. Eve seemed to be the same as ever, apart from her looking sad which Adam did not like even a little… She had decided to cover herself with some big leaves, kind of like the angels except their leaves were mostly white and much more fancy. That was odd, but it was hardly the weirdest thing Eve did. Eve thought bugs could be cute, that was a lot weirder than just copying the angels.

Adam didn't budge from where he stood, he'd had the good idea to stand between them and the only exit to the Garden so they couldn't take Eve away. Sera still hadn't given him a good answer, so he just narrowed his eyes and tried to channel that angry look that Lilith used to aim at him all the time. That did seem to work, Sera becoming visibly frustrated. 

“Adam, please try to understand. We still don’t fully understand what eating Samael’s apple did to Eve, but we know it is not safe for her to remain in Eden. if you could just move, before we have to force you to do so, we would like to get this over with. I need to get to Samael’s trial and- nevermind, that’s not for you to know.” Sera cut herself off, closing her eyes and sighing again. It seemed that she really liked that particular human trait. Adam didn’t know what a trial was or why Sam was in trouble, but Sera and the other angel looked very nervous and upset about the whole thing. Understandable, Sera and Sam were really good friends, naturally she’d be worried if he was in trouble. Still, all this over an apple?

Eve was still holding this all important apple, fiddling with it in her hands with a sad expression. It seemed pretty harmless, a plain red apple, not his favorite fruit but an okay snack. This all seemed so silly and Adam was done with it.

With an annoyed huff, Adam marched over and snatched the apple out of Eve’s hands.

“Wait- ADAM NO!” Eve screamed and reached out to stop him, but Adam had made his choice. He took a huge bite of the apple, big enough that he was pretty sure he bit into the core and seeds but that hardly mattered. He was making a point. 

“Pher, nuh prablum.” Adam talked with his mouth full, chewing noisily as everyone just stared at him. Eve looked both frightened and delighted, somehow both worried about him and looking at him like he was the coolest thing in the world… which, to be fair, he was. The big scary angel looked surprised and weirdly impressed like Adam had done something much more important than eat a stupid apple. Sera, well, they might need a new word for that expression. Her jaw hung open like she was a fish and she was making a weird strangled, whining noise in the back of her throat.

It wasn’t even a good apple. Kind of bitter actually. Yup, he definitely got some seeds in there. Still, he was doing this for Eve, so he chewed away and swallowed the whole lot before tossing the uneaten half in the dirt behind him. He opened his mouth to speak, tell everyone that they were being stupid and the apple was no big deal but he paused… he felt… funny? Not funny haha. Funny weird. His head felt kind of off.

It was like that time he found a rock that had broken in half. When he pushed the halves together and they fit together with a satisfying little click. The rock was whole again, but changed in a way that was hard to see unless you really looked closely. Adam shook off the strange thought, turning his attention back to the still slack jawed Sera.

“There, now whatever is wrong with Eve is also wrong with me, so there is no reason to send her away.” Adam proclaimed, standing proud of his very good idea. The silence stretched on for quite a rather long time, well, not entirely silent. Sera was still making that weird noise, only with a steadily rising pitch. Finally, the big scary angel gave an equally big laugh, slapping his knee as he did so.

“Say what you will, these humans are rather brave. First Lilith stands up for Samael, now this one damns himself for Eve? Troublesome, yet entertaining.” The big angel said after he managed to catch his breath. Adam was indeed very Brave, whatever that meant… What was that part about Damning himself?

“Do not encourage them, Satanael!” Sera yelled, her face turning a rather interesting shade in her anger. She apparently didn't find this funny. She could be something of a stick in the mud.  “Now they are both corrupted! Oh, The Most Holy will be so upset when they find out. Satanael, I don't know if this is even salvageable!”

“... If I may be honest, my lady, is it so bad? The humans seem unchanged. Defiance against orders is usually bad, but he is only doing it to save his mate. That seems like a good thing to me.” The big angel, apparently Satanael, tried to explain but Sera cut him off by flying into the larger Angel’s face and pointing a finger at him. Ugh, Adam hated when Lilith did that, he almost felt sorry for the big guy.

“Take this seriously! One good deed or not, you saw the horrific things that started crawling out of the new realm that came into being when Eve gained free will! Several of our soldiers have already been hurt keeping those things at bay!” Sera yelled, though Adam had no idea what she was on about. Eve looked just as lost as he did. Satanael did seem to understand it, his expression hardening with a grim frown. “Whatever all those horrible things are, it's connected to that apple and a lot of things we don't understand! I do not like sending them away either, but it is our duty to protect Heaven and The Garden from whatever dark influence Samael unleashed.”

“Samael did not do it on purpose, you know that.” Satanael growled.

“I believe that, my friend, but that's why we need to resolve this situation before it gets any worse. That way we can make it to the trial in time to convince God to be merciful.” Sera went on talking, but Adam started to tune it out. 

Seeing that the two angels were arguing, he made his way over to Eve, who was still looking up at him with awe. She was crying too, which was a new combination of emotions. He just pulled her into a hug, which always seemed to help. It made her cry more, but it seemed like a good kind of crying. Whatever was happening, Adam wasn't going to let Eve go through it alone. She was his wife, they were supposed to be together. He would do anything for Eve. Anything.

Besides, it wasn't like they weren't going to kick them both out.

“... Very well then, my lady, I will cast them both out of the garden.” Satanael sighed, turning his glowing eyes on Adam and Eve.

Wait… what?

“... No! I am not going anywhere and neither is Eve.” Adam said, a sound rather like a growl entering his own voice as he stepped in front of Satanael. For the first time, it really dawned on him exactly how large this angel was, bigger even than Sera, much wider and more muscular. Adam had seen larger animals hurt smaller ones because they needed to eat, but none of the animals had ever hurt him. Would… Satanael hurt him? Something new and cold churned in the pit of Adam’s stomach but he stepped in between Satanael and Eve all the same. Hurting him was one thing, but he certainly wasn’t going to let anything happen to Eve.

“A-adam, I’m so sorry… I-i did not know this would happen! I did not want you to get in trouble.” Eve said, clutching onto him, cowering away from the massive, glaring angel.

“It will be okay… I can figure something out.” Adam wasn’t sure if that was actually correct, but he felt like saying it would make Eve feel a little better. Satanael stepped closer, his steps shaking the trees around them. There was a flicker across his face of something like respect as Adam refused to cower in front of him, but it was replaced by a hard glare.

“Brave, but Foolish. You both made your choice and now you are damned. This, apparently, is the cost of Free Will. Now, walk before I am compelled to use force.” Satanael gave a growl that would have put the mightiest of bears and lions to shame. That cold pit in Adam’s stomach grew deeper, but he didn’t budge. 

His fists tightened. Adam didn’t have claws or fangs or horns like the other animals, but he’d seen them hit each other with their paws. Maybe he could do the same? Hurt this angel before it hurt him and Eve. His hands shook a bit, but he lifted his fists all the same. Even if it felt like a pile of rocks had dropped onto his shoulders, he stepped closer towards the angel rather than backing off. The animal that backs down is the one that loses.

Satanael’s eyes narrowed, his face turning dark despite how brightly his eyes glowed. He lifted a mighty clawed hand and with a flash of light… something appeared in it. Adam had seen the angels do magic plenty of times, that was no surprise but rather it was the item that drew Adam’s fascination. It was a strange kind of stick, though it seemed to be made out of something harder than stone. The color of red mud but polished and smooth like a river rock. The part that Satanael held was round like a regular stick but after that it became wide and flat, thicker in the middle but thinner than a leaf on the edge. Aside from the strangeness of the item itself, it was covered in some kind of strange living heat that danced and flickered along its edges as it gave off red and gold light. 

“You will leave. NOW.” Satanael roared, lifting the strange object and swinging it through the air. Adam felt a wave of heat far more intense than the wind on a hot day. The object seemed to pass right through several nearby trees. A heartbeat passed in silence, then all of those trees suddenly fell, making Adam and Eve jump back in surprise. The trees had been broken, far more easily than even the biggest animals could and without all the splintered bark that would normally be involved… and that strange living heat has spread from the object onto the trees. Wherever it touched, the wood turned black and began to give off a strange smell that made Adam’s nose sting.

That cold feeling in his gut somehow got even worse, making him want to bolt away but he stayed because some other feeling was stronger. A strange fascination overtook him as his eyes focused on the object, now that he had seen what it could do. It felt… important. His mind focused on it in a way that he had never felt before. This object, something that would one day be called a sword, was dangerous. It had a point that could pierce like wolf’s teeth and its edges were so thin because they could cut like their claws. If he had something like that, he would not need fangs or claws. The strange material it was made from, the thing that would one day be called metal, was hard like stone, but far less brittle. Adam wondered what else could be made from that material if he could find more. Most interesting of all was that living heat, the thing that would one day be called fire, the mere presence of it changed or destroyed whatever it touched. It made wood blacken and even glow, leaves curled in on themselves and grasses withered away before it even touched them. That was a different kind of power unto itself.

Adam was pulled from his thoughts when Satanael shifted the object towards his face, the heat coming off it making Adam’s skin feel dry.

“ Final warning. ” Satanael’s voice gave no room for argument. As much as Adam didn’t want to back down, in this he did relent. He and Satanael were different beast. If he fought, he would lose. He had seen what happened to animals when they lost. He couldn’t let that happen or Eve would be alone anyway. It annoyed him to have to back off, but he put his arm around Eve’s shoulder and started walking towards the exit of the garden. He didn’t know what was out there, but they’d figure it out, as long as they were together.

—

Groggily, Adam blinked awake as his eyes took in the dimly lit sky above. It wasn’t really a sky, but the ceiling of this cavern was so impossibly high above that his eyes couldn’t even see it. It just kind of faded into darkness after a certain point. He wasn’t even sure how the place was lit at all, there was some light as part of what Eve could seemingly control about the place, but the light had no visible source and Eve seemed to like keeping the place dim like it was always twilight. He didn’t mind so much, it was a good change of pace from thousands of years of sunny days and bright colors in Heaven.

He hadn’t thought about that day in centuries. What a different time that had been. Fucking lifetimes ago. A life he’d almost forgotten. So much had changed. Even he had changed. Seriously. Horns were a bitch of a change to get used to when you couldn’t take them off. Thankfully, Eve had magicked up a special bed and pillow so he could still sleep on his back. A bed that they had spent the last few weeks ‘stress testing’ without much rest. What? They hadn’t seen each other for thousands of years and needed to catch up. Eve especially had been rather pent up after a few millenia trapped in a cave and Adam had enjoyed every minute of it.

Speaking of which, Adam tilted his head down at the feeling of the woman in question stirring against his bare chest. Languidly, Eve’s eyes opened, red and white glowing softly in the dim light as she flashed him that sleepy smile that he had missed more than anything else in the world.

“Hmm… Every time I wake up, I still worry that you might be a dream.” she purred, using a claw to trace a line down his chest in a way that made him question if they would ever get more than a few feet away from this bed. Not that he minded.

“I’m the genuine fucking article, babe, and I ain’t going nowhere this time.” Adam said, smiling as he enjoyed the view of Eve sitting up and giving a much longer than necessary stretch for his enjoyment. 

“I felt the sentiment, repeatedly and with great enthusiasm.” Eve said with a lewd chuckle. A lazy gesture from her made a small pillar of stone rise from the ground next to the bed, atop a silver tray loaded with breakfast and drinks. Eve had said that this strange prison of hers only looked like Eden because she willed it to look that way and Adam had seen more of the in the rather brief moments they spent not fucking like wild animals. Eve seemed to have godlike control over this place, able to create almost anything she desired at a whim from clothing to food and drink to alterations to the very landscape. She could have every comfort she could possibly desire, but just because it was a very nice prison didn’t change the fact that it was one. No amount of power would change the softly glowing black chains around her wrists and neck.

Still, they had a plan to deal with that and Adam wasn’t going to waste breath on being bummed about it. Eve seemed to be sharing his thoughts as she grabbed a cup of wine for herself and handed Adam some grapes to munch on.

“Still, as delightful as our extended honeymoon has been, I do think it's about time we got around to actually working on our escape.” Eve idly swirled her drink, glancing at the silver goblet in her hand as she made it change shape and material several times before she settled on a plain wooden cup, the kind that she had once learned to carve during their life after the garden.

“Rought. Tha plahn.” Adam said through a mouthful of grapes. The one downside to Eve’s control over this place was that she could only recreate things that she understood. That was a surprisingly broad category considering that she seemed to be able to use those weird spy eyes to peep on Hell. She was surprisingly up to date on a lot of things, especially her fashion was very modern… however, while she could see outside of her prison, she could not taste outside of her prison. She was very behind on a lot of modern foods that Adam enjoyed due to the fact of having been locked away thousands of years before any such foods were conceived. Getting fresh tastes of all the foods he had loved when alive was great for nostalgia but he craved a fucking hamburger… or ribs, but he doubted he’d be able to explain Lute’s special Post Extermination day rib recipe, that tiny angel had slaved over that recipe for decades to get it right and he’d been more than a little spoiled by how good they were.maybe he’d see her again when he forced his way back up to Heaven, let her meet Eve. They might even get along. Still, he swallowed his mouthful and turned to Eve who, to his great disappointment, had willed her clothes back on. “You’re going to have to re-explain how this is all gonna work, we’ve been a little… busy since we last talked about it. You said something about me beating up Overlords?”

“Indeed, Husband.” Eve purred, “Powerful as you are, your battle with Lucifer was… not your best day. You will need to grow stronger to wrestle control of Pride from him. The easiest way to do that is to simply subjugate and kill the city’s overlords, taking their power and the power of the souls under their control as your own. By my last count, though only a handful of Overlords remain, they account for millions of souls under contract. All of which will be yours by right of bloody conquest." As she explained, Eve tilted her cup and watched a few drops of dark red wine drip onto the ground below like blood staining the streets of Pentagram city. Adam just nodded, that part made plenty of sense.

“And you think that will make me strong enough to beat Lucifer and take the crown, the throne, and all his cool shit?”

“Oh no, not at all. At least, not as things are right now.” Eve laughed about something only she knew as he frowned. She'd always been like that, enjoying watching him grow frustrated when she knew something he didn’t. He was in a forgiving mood though, she he’d allow her some fun at his expense. At a gesture for her to get to the point, she continued, “but, I have been keeping a few close eyes on things. If everything goes to plan, then there will a point where Lucifer will be weakened and the master of Pride can be challenged. At that point, you can sweep in and take everything you desire.”

“You’ve clearly plotted this shit out. Haven’t had much else to think about, huh?” Adam asked, accepting a cup of wine as Eve handed it to him.

“I have been… very bored. Tried a few times to stretch myself out to contact mortals and convince them to be my champion in this, some fairly recently. All I really needed was someone who resonated strongly with the sin of Pride enough to potentially control it. No offense to you, I adore your ego.” She teased, giggling as Adam flicked a grape at her, but then her face turned bitter as she went back to her thoughts. “They all failed me. Either couldn’t last long enough to wait for the right opportunity or too cowardly to take the risks needed to continue growing in power. You, on the other hand, I have much higher hopes for.”

Adam nodded at this. It made sense that no one else had succeeded. No matter how big and cool an Overlord they might be, they just couldn’t be him. He was the original man, the best man. More practically, he had about 10,000 years to soak up that sweet Heavenly light and get powerful as fuck, which gave him something of an advantage over his descendants.

“Still, seems like this isn’t going to be a quick job though. You said I’d have to wait for an opportunity?” Adam asked, getting a nod in return.

“Several months at least, maybe a year. I can’t exactly influence much outside of this cave beyond some very vague nudging, even then… some people still catch on and thwart even that.” Eve grumbled, taking a long drink of her wine. Whatever that was about seemed personal, but Adam wasn’t gonna ask. Instead he sat himself up, giving a biiiiig stretch and a roar as prepared to actually get out of bed and get to work for once. Eve nimbly hopped off the bed as he pushed himself to the edge, with a flick of her fingers he was dressed. 

He glanced down, raising an eyebrow at his new look. A more modern version of his Exorcist uniform, remade in red and as a pretty badass coat. Nice. Good thing his wife had great fashion sense among all her other great qualities.

“Well, if we have a few months and I'm supposed to be fighting a lot of people… guess I should get back in shape. Probably need a weapon too, seems like my guitar didn’t come with me when I died. Fucking shame, that thing would be pretty damn useful.” Adam grumped as he pushed himself up, grabbing a breadroll to stuff into his mouth as he did so. Even he could admit that his lifestyle in Heaven had been a bit… lazy. It's a bit hard to get motivated when literally everything you want is provided for you. He’d never understood how Lute had managed to be so dedicated to working out, though he’d always appreciated the results. He hadn’t exactly ‘worked out’ in life either, staying fit more on the virtue of the hard work needed to survive and not always having enough food to get by. Intentional exercise was a fairly modern invention by his standards.

He’d figure it out though, he’d watched Lute do it plenty. Running, lifting things, pushups, etc. Eve could probably make him exercise equipment, though with how strong he was naturally, he might be better off lifting big fucking boulders if he wanted to break a sweat.

“Good plan, though not too much. I am finding that I rather find I like this new, much more cuddly version of you. Like a great big pillow.” Eve teased, poking him in the belly. He lightly swatted her hand away with an eye roll. “Though, as for a weapon, I might have the start of something.” she mused, making a gesture. Intrigued, Adam watched as the ground shifted, revealing a large rectangle of solid obsidian. The stone was so smooth and dark, he had to kneel next to it to see the faint traces of a seam that might indicate a lid. “I suppose it's well overdue that I got you an anniversary present.”

Claws turned out to be pretty useful for getting between the tight space between the lid and the rest of the box. He opened it easily, despite the solid piece of dense obsidian likely being a crushing weight to a lesser man. Looking within, Adam was incredibly surprised to see… a stick?

“... your sense of humor was always a bit odd, babe.” lightly tossing the lid, Adam picked up the stick. Perhaps less a stick, more a branch. Dark brown, near black wood. Surprisingly dense enough to give a good heft even to his arm. Pretty much straight aside from a handful of small knots and branches. It was pretty big, about his height so 9ish feet long. It was a very nice stick, but still a stick. “... what is this supposed to be exactly?”

“That, Husband of mine, is the result of more than two hundred years of hard work.” Eve said, crossing her arms. “Cutting anything off that infernal tree is something of a chore.” Eve pointed at the stick, then pointed up. Adam blinked, following her finger towards the titanic tree at the center of the fake garden. The Tree that Eve claimed was the original tree from the original garden.

Adam blinked. Then looked at the stick. Then blinked again.

“... Babe, what the fuck?”

“I’m pretty impressive, I know.”

“I mean, fucking yes, but how? You told me that shit was indestructible.” Adam asked, looking at the stick with renewed interest. Curious, he tightened his grip. Adam could bend steel and pulverize rocks to dust with grip strength alone, but this stick didn’t even have a fraction of give to it.

“I said ‘pretty indestructible’, now completely.” Eve corrected, then lifted a hand, showing off the glowing black manacles hanging there, about a foot of chain hanging loosely before fading off into nothingness. “Got the idea from Luci and Lilith actually. They typically don’t visit and try to ignore me when they do, but a few centuries ago… hard to say exactly when? More than 2, less than 5. Irrelevant. They popped in and went straight for the tree, Lucifer flew up and with a flash he lopped off a branch and they left with it. I think they ended up using it to make that fancy little trident the Princess stabbed you with.” Eve explained.

Adam’s shoulder twinged at the memory, while he had proven to unfortunately not be quite as invincible as he thought when it came to weapons, he had noticed something of a difference in quality between the Princess’ trident and the fucking Knife that drove into his spine a dozen or so times. That trident was a cut above the usual junk.

“So… Lucifer can cut an indestructible tree?” Adam asked.

“His magic can at least and I just so happened to have a bit of his magic on hand.” Eve grinned wickedly, using her other hand to grab the floating chain and stretch it out. Same way Adam had tried, any part of the chain that was touched became tangible with a seemingly infinite length between her and where it reappeared, wrapped around the base of the tree. “I wrapped a loop of the chain around the lowest, smallest, thinnest branch I could find and started sawing away.”

“... for 200 years?” Adam blinked at her.

“Not like I had much else to do. Wanted to prove I could, though I figured it might take me… maybe 10 to 20 thousand years to actually saw the whole tree down… maybe longer. Still, felt good to get even a little bit off it. You can probably use it to make a good staff or a club, though I’m pretty sure you’d need a lot of magic and a blessed dagger to whittle it into shape. Still, better than nothing.” Eve shrugged.

Adam reconsidered the stick. Nearly indestructible, magically charged wood wasn’t anything to sneeze at. He’d used a lot of weapons over the years and as much as he might miss his axe, there was one weapon that came more naturally to him. The one that he had invented all on his own with nothing but an old branch, flint, and catgut. A tool that he had used to kill and tame the wild animals of the world outside the garden. The weapon that throughout all of mankind’s history and inventions was still lauded as the King of Weapons. Instinctively, he dropped into an old stance as his hands adjusted along the length of the branch. Old muscle memories clicked into place as he thrust the branch forward with equal parts precision, speed, and power. Yes, he could feel it.

This… would make an excellent spear.

—

“So, what do you think, Big Guy?” Lucifer asked, setting down his crystal glass of Ambrosia. Very nostalgic drink and extremely had to convince anyone in Heaven to give him a bottle. Beelzebub had really tried her best to recreate the stuff but as fine as her personally brewed honey mead was, it didn’t come close to the real thing. Still better than most thing any mortals would ever drink, not that it was healthy for them to try drinking the raw essence of magically concentrated Gluttony, it had to be watered down quite a fucking lot into that ‘Beelzejuice’ swill she sold. Ambrosia was a different beast, the drink of the angels since time before time. Thankfully, Sera had snuck him a bottle as a peacekeeping gift during their most recent meeting. Still, he was getting off topic even in his own mind. “Because, I do kind of need at least you on board with this before I proceed with anything. I mean, some of the others will probably hop on once I officially pitch the idea, but you’re the show stopper. If you don’t think she’s ready then I guess we can shelve this for another century or whatever.”

Lucifer turned his gaze to look up at the massive form next to him. Had to turn his head quite a bit, Satan had an annoying habit of never quite shrinking down his bulk  as much as he probably should. 

The guy liked to be big, but if Lucifer was a hulking four eyed, four horned dragon goatman, then Lucifer might also want to flaunt it. He was pretty content in his typical form. A lot less threatening. Lucifer rarely ever felt the need to be threatening, but that was the privilege of sitting at the top of the food chain. Besides, it was a lot easier to do the fine detail work on his projects with small deft hands rather than big clunky claws. 

“No no, I’m in. By the Heavenly host, I am in. Lucy, I've been waitin’ for this moment for centuries. Getting damn near worried you might hold out on me for another century or two. Now that you’ve gone and teased me with it, I’ll be damned all over again ‘fore I let you slip that slippery little hide of yours out of it.” Satan boomed, not yelling but at a volume that was certainly louder than necessary. The Sin of Wrath had spent entirely too much time farming, he’d picked up what humans might describe as a southern accent recently. Kind of a silly affectation but a lot less grating than Mammon’s vaguely Australian sounding babble. Every Sin had their quirks, Lucifer and Satan were no exceptions to that. Still, it was good to see Satan excited, the big guy hadn’t been this energetic since the last world war. 

“So, who do you think will play along? You’ll be the main event but it would be good to have like… a warm up round or two? Can’t just kick things off with a bang, there’s no way this will pan out if we don’t have at least a few months of build up.” Lucifer sincerely believed that this plan would work and that this was the right time to do it. He really wished he could have Lilith with him for it, but he figured that she unfortunately wouldn’t be back for some time yet. The kind of answers she was looking for wouldn’t come quickly, if they came at all. Still, even if he was confident in the plan, it had to be executed juuuuust right, giving everyone plenty of time and opportunity to grow between each phase, otherwise it would crumble like a house of cards.

“Hmmm…” Satan rumbled, with a surprisingly gentle touch, he lifted his own glass of ambrosia between two burning claws. The glass looked comically tiny in his massive paw, but even Satan knew that every drop was precious enough that he couldn’t complain about the portion size. Yet another benefit to being short and compact, portions feel bigger. The Lord of Wrath took a very small sip between his massive fangs despite the fact he could have easily thrown it back like a shot. After a few seconds of enjoying the flavor, he shifted in his chair to lean forward towards Lucifer. “Beelzebub and Asmodeus ain’t terribly confrontational and seem to be sittin’ pretty in their rings as is. Doubt they’d really care. Belephagor, I think, will either sleep through most of the meeting or complain that she needs to get back to her hospitals. That just leaves Leviathan and Mammon. Pretty confident they’ll hop on. Levi is quick as a whip, she’ll see what we’re doing and play along but you know she’ll throw her own little spin on it for a laugh. Mamm, on the other hand, is about as bright as a brick and twice as dense. He’ll do it because he thinks he might get whatever it is he wants and not put any more thought into it than that.”

Lucifer bobbed his head as he nodded along. That sounded about accurate. Stan was usually pretty accurate about this kind of thing. Lucifer could tweak things around that, get some public events scheduled to really make a spectacle of the whole thing. He was a bit worried that Leviathan might drag some unnecessary politics into it, she was way too engaged with the constant infighting among the Ars Goetia. She had claimed that stringing the Goetia houses along in political games of her design was her hobby and she was almost entirely responsible for the Royal Demon political climate being the convoluted cesspool of affairs, murder and betrayal it had become… a cesspool she happily played in like an excited ferret in a box of packing peanuts. Mammon, being stupid, was a lot easier to wrangle. Granted, he came with a non-zero chance of introducing his own personal brand of fuckery into it, but Lucifer could manage it if he was prepared.

“Well well well, sounds like we have ourselves a plan.” Lucifer picked up his glass and held it up, getting a dainty ‘clink’ from Satan in cheers. Taking a celebratory sip and sighing as the very literally Heavenly taste filled his body. “So, are you good to play the host? People might catch on if I spend all my time prettying up the Mansion for a party.”

“Knowing you, you’d start a new project and disappear into that infernal maze of a building for another decade. Besides, you’re a damn terrible host. Lilith was the one who knew how to throw a party, not you.” Satan barked a booming laugh, making Lucifer roll his eyes. “I am more than happy to show everyone some proper Wrathian hospitality. I’ll pull out all the stops and have the invites out in a few months. Haha, I can feel it Lucy, this is going to be one Hell of a plan and I can’t fucking wait to get my claws dirty.” Satan laughed more, clearly excited. 

To be fair, they had made him wait quite awhile when he and Lily pitched this plan centuries ago, Satan had good reason to be excited. The big guy lived for this kind of stuff. For Lucifer’s part, it felt both the right time to do it and far, far too early. Where had the years gone? Lost, stuck in his own head and wasting time on his projects most likely. That was his failing, but he was going to make up for it. He’d seen what she was capable of, knew that she could be ready for this. 

Above all else, Lucifer believed in his daughter and knew she was ready for whatever life might throw at her.

Chapter Text

Years of work and seemingly insurmountable struggles for what seemed like an impossible dream were finally, finally paying off and Charlie couldn't be happier.

After the grand opening, the hotel had ended up with a little over two dozen guests. Nowhere near max capacity but a huge jump from an effectively empty building. An eclectic bunch of Sinners from seemingly all walks of life and even a few cannibals that Charlie recognized from the battle, which was honestly a surprise since all cannibals seemed so weirdly super happy that she hadn't thought any might try to leave Cannibal Town. Still, while she hadn't been super thrilled at the comparatively small amount of guests, Vaggie had once again sat Charlie down to help her see reason. As much as Charlie might want to dive into the deep end and start redemption en masse, Vaggie had pointed out that they were both understaffed and inexperienced, so starting with a smaller guest load would give them time to adapt to running the hotel and potentially seek some new staff. Vaggie was so smart, what would Charlie do without her?

They were already starting to see some potential on new staff. That Baxter guy was mostly interested in studying the ‘Redemption Phenomenon’ and had grilled Charlie about practically everything she'd ever done with Sir Pentious to try to figure it out, but in his spare time he turned out to be pretty good with computers and stuff and was pretty confident he could ‘Vox-Proof’ their wifi, which seemed like a good thing. Another new arrival, Crymini, was turning out to be a big help. She'd started off spending a lot of time sulking around the bar, moping which had ended up with Husk yelling at her to ‘get off her lazy lump and help with the dishes’... And that somehow both worked and translated to the Hyena girl regularly volunteering in the kitchen. Turns out tough love can work.

There were a handful of other standouts but one that Charlie was particularly proud of, and perhaps just a little smug about, turned out to be the rat man that tried to mug her and Lute, Albert. Not only ha he decided to take up her offer, after only a few days the man had found a way to make himself useful. The man had a pretty green thumb (well, the plant life around here tended to come in shades of red, pink, purple, and black but humans still held onto their little expressions). They'd sorely needed help on that front, the plant life around the hotel was pretty sparse and sickly. Her dad has refused to use magic to help the plants grow back after most of the hill was torched or destroyed in the battle because last time he used magic to make plants grow, Uncle Satan had yelled at him for 3 hours about the magical infusion causing the degradation of soul nutrition or something like that. Her uncle took farming very seriously. Either way, they had sparse grass and dead trees around a fancy hotel and Albert had volunteered to help fix that. He told Charlie that he'd been a groundskeeper in life and actually enjoyed the job but it didn't pay enough to get by, forcing him to turn to less savory occupations.

Charlie was finding that to be an increasingly common theme among several of the Sinners she talked to. Sure, there were plenty of guests that were just taking advantage of the hospitality or trying to catch a free ride to Heaven without effort. Others though, a surprising amount of them, seemed to actually want to make themselves useful and to work at the jobs they were passionate about. The stack of filled out sign up forms in her hand seemed to imply that a lot of Sinners did actually want to try to better now that they had been given the chance. Maybe she'd just gotten very lucky with her first batch of guests. Still, Charlie liked to think it was a sign that Sinners, or rather Humans, were naturally inclined to choose good, to be good when the world allowed them to be. 

Sure, there were definitely a lot of bad people who consistently chose to be terrible and cruel, who liked to put others down… but they didn't represent the whole of humanity. She was, after all, only working with half of humanity. The supposedly worst half, and even among them she could see diamonds in the rough… Perhaps she was being overly optimistic, but pessimism had never gotten her anywhere. 

These souls had potential, and she was determined to see it realized.

It wasn’t all sunshine and roses though. The whole ‘put a bunch of Sinners in the same place, limit their access to vices and expect everyone to get along’ part of the plan had some… hiccups. Quite a few if Charlie was being completely honest. Tensions could occasionally skyrocket and fights happened quite a lot at first but had calmed down to maybe every other day now. This was why investing in getting Lute to join the hotel had been a great plan. Charlie would give herself a pat on the back for that one. Lute was religious about her job, always keeping an eye out for rule breakers and conflicts. No hesitation in stepping in to break things up either, no matter what kind of magical power or weapon someone pulled out. Aside from just peacekeeping, Lute had done a good job about keeping the guests safe. Just the other day, when someone’s shitty ex-boyfriend tried to charge into the hotel to cause a scene, Lute quite literally picked the man up and threw him all the way down the hill to the street.

Charlie was extremely happy about Lute’s dedication to her task… there was juuust one little issue.

Screaming heralded the arrival of a cannibal man landing in the middle of the lobby and bouncing across the floor in what seemed to be an extremely painful fashion. Normally this would be something of a concerning event, but the handful of guests hanging in the lobby already seemed used to this kind of thing and barely paused their conversations at the poor man’s crash landing. 

“Consider that your final fucking warning!” Lute’s voice roared as she stomped out of the hallway the man had been unceremoniously tossed out of. Snarling, she jabbed a finger down at the man and continued to bellow at the cowering Sinner without even giving him a chance to sit up. “If I so much as smell you walking near the kitchens again, I will tear you limb from goddamn limb!”

Charlie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose at the scene. Yup. That was the issue. Lute was a lot of things; loyal, protective, dedicated, and practically fearless… but she was not even a little gentle. Make no mistake, Charlie was grateful for the work she did, but Lute really struggled with force regulation. She tended to respond to every situation with extreme force and the dial only went up from there. Lute was still not exactly used to extending anything other than deadly force towards Sinners and while she hadn’t killed anyone yet, she’d gotten damn close. Just the other day, she nearly broke a woman’s arm over the girl trying to take more than the allotted amount of cinnamon rolls from the breakfast buffet. Sighing, Charlie had to remind herself that despite having made quite a bit of progress with the angel, Lute was very much still a work in progress. Taking this into account, Charlie stepped forward to intervene before that cannibal accidentally said something to set Lute off. Truth was, she had been planning to look for Lute anyway to talk to her, this might not have been the ideal way to find her but it saved her some time at least.

“Good morning. Lute. Harold.” Charlie said as she stepped up, Lute immediately went rigid when she registered Charlie’s presence. 

“Miss Morningstar.”

“Uhrrgh… not sure about ‘good’.” groaned Howard the Cannibal as he finally managed to sit up. Charlie extended a hand, helping him get to his feet. Despite his tumble, he seemed largely fine and unbruised. Small miracles.

“About that. Lute, I’m sure there was a very good reason to be a little firm with Harold, but was throwing him necessary?” Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow at Lute.

Lute opened her mouth to reply but she met Charlie’s gaze and opted to take a second to lower her blood pressure for once. Adopting her usual pose of attention, she proceeded in a much calmer tone. “This cre-” Lute chewed on her words, likely swallowing some rather nasty commentary before she was actually able to get her reasoning out. “Harold has been harassing the kitchen volunteers for days now with insistent and unreasonable requests.”

The cannibal man scoffed, rolling his eyes though the effect of the gesture was somewhat lost considering the empty sockets. “Unreasonable? Asking for accommodations for my dietary needs is hardly unreasonable.”

“You have been asking for the kitchen to prepare soups made with ‘human bone broth’ because, and I’m quoting here ‘other stocks don’t sit right on my palette’.” Lute explained flatly, clear disdain on her face.

“... Well, they don’t. Who am I to blame for how things taste?”

Charlie sighed. She always knew that this wouldn’t be easy, but she was starting to wonder if it was even possible for her hair to turn grey. “Harold. I know that changing habits is hard, but being here does mean you have to stop with the… cannibalism stuff. I’m pretty sure they don’t do that in Heaven.” Charlie explained… again. She was very appreciative of the cannibals that came to the hotel, but this particular vice was proving as difficult to break as some of the drug addicts. They even had several signs about not serving human flesh. It was really bad that they needed signs. 

“I can confirm that they, in fact, do not.” Lute growled.

“Well, that was why I was asking about soups and stocks. Not exactly eating human flesh that way, is it?” Harold continued to try to reason but Charlie just shook her head.

“Cannibalism is still a sin, no matter how you cook it.” Lute tended to not have any patience for this kind of thing and it was pretty obvious that her reserves were running low. 

“I… have to agree with Lute here. Harold. Again, change is hard but if you want this to work, you are going to have to make some sacrifices. Okay?” Charlie personally didn’t see ‘stop eating people’ as a massive personal sacrifice, but her subjects were a… diverse lot. Harold frowned and definitely looked like he had a lot more complaints in him, but after a huff, he gave a small nod of agreement. Progress, blessed progress. “And while it was very rude to bother the people volunteering their time in the kitchen, that was no excuse for Lute to throw you across the lobby.” This time, Charlie turned a look towards Lute, who avoided her eyes for several seconds. She broke quickly enough though.

“I… apologize for the overreaction.” Lute muttered, only barely loud enough to be heard. “But I meant it, do not let me catch you doing this shit again.” pointing a claw at Harold as she delivered her final threat but thankfully let the poor man escape. By now there had been several conversations like this that ended with Lute having to apologize. At least this time it didn’t involve pulling anyone out of a wall. Again, Charlie was glad for what Lute did, but if Lute could just… relax a fraction. 

The girl got so wildly angry over even the smallest things, at least she hadn’t encountered another situation like with Albert. When Lute had actually thought that Charlie might have been in danger, there had been a moment that Charlie was legitimately frightened by the pure wrath in Lute’s eyes. She’d seen demons from Wrath that looked less intense than Lute had in that moment. Like… Charlie was flattered at Lute jumping to her defense, but also a little scared. Also confused. Charlie really liked when Vaggie jumped to her defense because her cool girlfriend getting protective was nice and kinda hot… Lute doing the same thing introduced some complications.

Lute watched Harold tromp off with a glare, but when she caught Charlie looking at her, she wilted guiltily. 

“... Apologies, your Majesty. I should have handled that better.” she admitted. Charlie knew that even if Lute got out of hand at times, the angel genuinely seemed to feel bad about the idea of doing her job incorrectly and resented her occasional lack of self control. Charlie tried not to be too hard on her for that reason. 

“You could have, but no harm done. Thank you for helping the cooks though.” Charlie stepped closer to Lute, the angel’s tie was a mess. She flipped Lute’s collar up and started to undo and retie it. As much as Lute seemed to like wearing it, even with some weeks of practice she just couldn’t seem to get the hang of doing even the simple knots. She’d asked Charlie to fix it so many times that doing so had just become habit for Charlie to the point that she didn’t even bother to ask to do so anymore. Lute didn’t seem to mind at all, holding nice and still while Charlie worked. Charlie was actually a little convinced that Lute tied it improperly on purpose, but Vaggie had backed up that Lute genuinely struggled to learn any kind of new skills that weren't related to beating the crap out of people. Something about that innate purpose and limited free will that the Exorcists dealt with that Charlie still barely understood. “Any requests?”

“Could you show me the balthus knot again? That's what I tried this morning.” Lute said, apparently not having been pleased with the result. No surprise there, a Balthus wasn't the easiest knot to begin with. Charlie set to work. 

“So, other than keeping cannibals out of the kitchen, have any other plans for the weekend?” broaching the topic she had been waiting to spring on Lute as casually as she could, keeping her eyes on her work so as to not give away her true intent. Not for the first time, Charlie pondered a particularly odd contradiction as she worked and chatted. Lute had calmed down considerably in her weeks at the hotel but was still something of a feral cat at times. Ready to go on the defensive if someone even twitched the wrong way in her presence… Yet she seemed oddly comfortable with Charlie's claws so close to her neck. How strange. Well, then again, Charlie wasn't exactly intimidating. “Actually going to try doing something on your day off other than more work?”

“Ma’am, there isn't exactly much outside this hotel that is of interest to me. Therefore, if I have no reason to leave the premises, I might as well make myself useful while I am here.” Typical Lute answer, using a wrap of practical reasoning to avoid the more obvious reason. Lute was clearly not very comfortable being in Hell and interacting with Sinners. She'd barely talk to any outside the staff unless she was reprimanding and/or threatening them. Vaggie had been the same way, using every excuse in the book to avoid leaving the hotel even when it was a half renovated wreck. One more thing to work on. More importantly, Lute seemed blissfully unaware of the date and it's significance. Unsurprising that she had lost track of time given her situation. In a surprising turn, Lute turned the conversation back on Charlie, “Are you planning on taking a rest yourself, ma’am? A bit hypocritical for you to call me out on it when you and Vaggie haven't taken time off either.”

Oof. Hoisted on her own petard. That was not part of the plan. Charlie gave an awkward laugh, finishing the knot and folding down Lute’s collar. Lute was turning out to be pretty good with catching Charlie in these kinds of details.

“Well, didn’t you and I have a little talk about a little bit of hypocrisy being okay in the right circumstance?” Charlie said but only received a flat look in response. A very similar type of humorless glare that Vaggie often gave, Charlie had to wonder if Vaggie had learned it from Lute or if they both had picked it up from someone else. Certainly not Adam, she was pretty sure he’d never taken anything serious enough to develop that kind of glare. Holding her hands up, Charlie surrendered. “Alright, alright. Getting the hotel on its feet has been a lot, okay? Managing a few dozen Sinners is still new to me buuut you might have a point. Vaggie and I are due for a bit of personal time. Let's compromise. You agree to actually take a day off and I’ll talk to Vaggie about us doing the same sometime soon. Good?” 

“Acceptable proposal, ma’am.” Lute straightened her tie, tucking it into her vest with a curt nod, still unaware of the trap that she had blindly walked into. Still, She really did look a lot better with a properly done tie. The look had been good to start with, but it was looking more fitting by the day, almost more so than Lute’s old uniform. “Well, if that will be all, I need to get back to work. I will have much to do to make sure that I get everything done before my ‘day off’.” Lute was acting much the martyr about having to not work as she made her way off to complete whatever laundry list of very much self assigned tasks that she felt were her responsibility. Stubborn woman. Still, apparently Lute had quite the intent on making sure that those around her were well taken care of, which Charlie was learning to use as leverage to make the angel actually take care of herself at times. 

Vaggie had been the same way for a good long while. Absolute workaholic, always so serious, and at least mildly stressed 24/7. It had taken a while to dull those edges but years of work had worn Vaggie down to a marginally more relaxed person. Most of the time. Honestly, Charlie wasn’t sure who was a bigger headache to manage, the Sinners or her angels. Well, not ‘her’ angels. Vaggie was her angel… Technically she did kinda sorta ‘own’ Lute by some interpretation, but phrasing was important. The angels, not ‘her’ angels. 

She was thinking about this too much. She had accomplished her goal in the conversation and the success of her plan had only cost her having to take Vaggie out for a date night. Call that a win win.

Charlie had her own business to attend to between now and then though. Gathering the sign up forms, she began to make her way towards Vaggie’s office. They’d have a lot to do as well. A lot of people had shown some tentative interest in some of the clubs, activities, and support groups they’d proposed. It would take some sorting to figure out which ones held the most interest and then working to organize them from vague ideas to the real thing. That meant getting the necessary equipment and resources, hiring any potential professional help that might be needed, selecting spaces for people to meet and, of course, scheduling. Apart from that, the stuff that wasn’t popular enough for whole clubs was still useful. They could keep track of the people that had been interested and record it in their files, that information gave away a lot about what some Sinners were interested in pursuing or thought might help them on their personal path to redemption.

It was a lot of work, but Charlie was extremely excited to put in the effort. A few hours of hard work on her part could get a couple Sinners just a few inches closer to redemption and that made it all worth it… Though, Lute did have something of a point. Charlie had been working herself ragged. Spending a nice night out with her girlfriend would be good for her, especially if they can work on some one on one stress relief afterwards.

A small, pleased growl escaped Charlie’s mouth at the very thought, making its way out of her before she could stifle it. Charlie blushed, holding up the papers to cover her face in embarrassment, thankfully nobody was immediately around her to notice the slip in self control. God. She really was overdue for some personal time.

It wouldn’t hurt to add date planning to the day’s itinerary, their plans for Lute were already set in stone at this point anyway. Charlie made her way off, considering the idea of a date night as she walked. There were actually quite a few nice places in Pentagram City, mostly the ones that catered to the rich and famous Sinner elite or the Goetia run establishments. These were the kind of places that could hire enough security to get through a single night without some kind of disaster. Usually a fire. Still, over the years, Charlie and Vaggie had run through most places of that nature. They’d been limited to Pentagram city due to Charlie being under the assumption that Vaggie was a Sinner. That particular restriction had been lifted, but they hadn’t had the time to explore the possibilities that came with it. A trip to the other Rings was well overdue… Lute could also come to the other rings, now that she thought about it, but probably not for date night. Vaggie would probably get very jealous if Charlie dragged Lute out on their date, especially since they were already planning to spend some time with Lute before that… though, seeing her girlfriend get all clingy and territorial was really cute.

Hmm, that did remind her. As much as Seviathan’s texts were annoying and/or infuriating, he had dropped the idea of going to The Liar awhile ago. His attempts to talk his way into a threesome aside, The Lair was a really good restaurant. Then again, dropping undersea just to get to Envy was a bit of a hassle. Ozzie’s? That was always a good time, but Vaggie could be a bit shy and there was a pretty solid chance of her uncle dropping in to serenade them personally. Greed was right out, plenty of nice places in some cities but Vaggie would be stressed about getting robbed or kidnapped the entire time. Perhaps a slow spa day in Sloth? A beach day in Gluttony? Nightmare riding in Wrath? All had possibilities, she’d had to float them by Vaggie.

With a skip in her step, Charlie made her way off looking forward to a nice long talk about work and date planning. Everything was going her way for once. Heaven had backed off, the hotel was getting solid footing, the Vees had started minding their own business, and there were no immediate problems looming on the horizon. Sure, there were still dozens of issues to deal with, but Charlie was determined to enjoy a few weeks without an impending apocalypse looming over her head.

—

There were no proper words to fully express just how much Vaggie had missed flying.

She’d been forced to learn to live without it, had to adapt to being grounded for years. Years of feeling incomplete, being limited to the whims of simple gravity. Even months after getting her wings back, she still didn’t use her wings as much as she used to, it was hard to break habits she had forced herself to learn. She still found herself going for step ladders or asking for help getting things off high shelves when she could literally just pop out her wings and not be limited by her lack of height for once.

She'd lost a skill she'd put a century and a half of work into. Once she'd been the best in the Exorcists, fastest on the wing bar none. A niche she had painstakingly carved for herself, worked countless hours on to finally have something that she alone was the best at. Flight had meant everything to her, which was one of many reasons it had been so crushing when Lute took it from her… forgiveness over that was still something of a rough subject between them. Lute had (quite brutally) experienced Vaggie's pain, been sincere in her apology and was even willing to put her soul on the line for Vaggie's forgiveness. All those things that Vaggie appreciated and was glad to have the other woman back in her life again and was starting to grow somewhat comfortable with having her around, but things had fundamentally changed between them. At times it was still a struggle to find out exactly where they stood with each other and where they would go from here.

Still, such complicated thoughts were to be saved for later. 

Her wings were back and better than ever. It had been surprising when she'd actually taken the time to study her wings in detail and noticed that they were not only different visually but also structurally. A little longer with a more pointed shape, denser muscles hiding under silver gray feathers. When she had made a habit of flying again, starting from tentative circles around the hotel to long acrobatic flights over Pentagram City, she had begun to realize what those subtle differences really meant. Her wings, although different, felt absolutely natural to her and actually seemed to be able to carry her through the air faster than before. Her old wings had been crafted by Adam, molded to fit his idea of what Vaggie should be, just another obedient Exorcist. These wings though. These wings had been crafted for her, shaped by her will and desires, molded to suit her needs. 

That realization had brought such an incredible sense of freedom. Years away from the Exorcists had changed her in body and mind. She hardly resembled the meek and obedient little soldier she had been. She had friends that appreciated her and an amazing woman that loved her. These wings were the final piece in the puzzle, an embodiment of her freedom.

And freedom felt good.

There was a pleasant sting of well worked muscles across her shoulders as Vaggie caught onto one of Pride's abundant thermal winds, using it to climb higher into the sky. Up and up and up until she was nearly level with the massive glowing Pentagram that floated above the Ring of Pride. The thought had crossed her mind on a few occasions to try to touch the thing or even perch on it, but she was pretty sure it was little more than a construct of light and therefore intangible. Pity, it'd be a good place to sit and take in the view. Hovering for a moment, she spared only a glance for the distant glow of Heaven. That place no longer held anything for her, she'd been well aware of the tarnish hiding under all that glitz and glam. Everything she desired was down below. Speaking of which, it was time for her favorite part.

Slamming her wings against the air one final time, she pitched forward and let gravity take hold. Pulling her wings in, Vaggie began to plummet. The wind split around her, whipping against her feathers and hair. Faster and faster she dropped. The rushing thrill of true speed overtaking her, Vaggie split the sky like a gleaming silver comet, rocketing downward towards the ring below.

The ground surged upward to meet her, threatening her with a swift and crushing demise, but her wings snapped out just in time. Muscles tightened and tensed as air and gravity buffeted them but her wings held strong and firm. Momentum carried her, her dive pulling mere inches from the pink grasses of the hill and carrying her speeding across the hillside before a slight tilt of her wings had her soaring back up into the sky.

Vaggie restrained the urge to giggle like a child, but couldn’t stop the massive grin on her face. She didn’t consider herself a crazy adrenaline junkie like Lute, she tended to live her life rather tamely… but for flight, she couldn’t deny the addictive thrill and speed of high dives. One could only imagine what she could accomplish were she to dive from Heaven’s gates? Could angels survive breaking the sound barrier? A joke, of course, she knew she couldn’t really go beyond terminal velocity without some kind of magic bullshit. Well, she did have magic now, barely the basics but more than she had. At best, with a lot of practice she had learned how to use her strange storage ability without pushing things into her hair and could occasionally make sparks when clicking her fingers. Quite a long way from Charlie’s ability to sling fireworks or Alastor’s absolute reality warping madness, but it was progress. If she could use magic to break the laws of physics for herself, it wouldn’t be anytime soon.

A few beats of her wings had her leveling out, pulling a wide and lazy ring around the hotel’s hill. She needed a few minutes of lazy flying to come off the hard exercise, like walking a lap after a long run.

The view from up here was actually pretty nice. Pentagram city had a sort of eclectic charm to it when you got used to it… and it wasn’t on fire… and as long as you weren’t on ground level to smell the vomit. Okay, it was an acquired taste and not always a pleasant one. Tilting, she passed over the edge of the densely packed city, observing the scant border of dark woodlands around the edge of the city. Dense forest with black trees made a thin and uninviting barrier between civilization and the jagged fang-like mountains that filled most of the Ring’s terrain. She knew it was a rather unpleasant place to live and brimming with stalking Hellbeasts, but a few Sinners toughed it out in their need for privacy. Still, even that shred of nature was shrinking by the year as the overpopulation issue got worse. There were supposedly other cities or ‘circles’ in the ring that were less densely packed as Pentagram city but most mortal souls were entirely too stubborn to entertain the thought of moving. Pentagram City was the capital city of the Ring, its center of power in more ways than one and everyone was willing to fight for a slice of the pie.

The mountains beyond the woodland seemed even more uninviting and desolate. Rising waves of wicked spikes with claustrophobic valleys in-between, stretching out into the far distance. It was very easy to believe that Pentagram city was alone in Pride with a view like that, but that was a narrow view of the world. Vaggie had once had to help plan and organize the other battalions that were deployed to Pride’s other cities, though they were all much lower priority. She couldn’t imagine anyone scraping out a living in the middle of those mountains, bleak and lifeless as they were. Rumors insisted that there were some that did, hiding in caves and dark corners. The lowest of the low, Sinners so vile and wicked they’d been ostracized from even the cities of Hell… Mostly Nazis. Everyone hated Nazis.

These thoughts and more flicked through Vaggie’s mind as she slowly sailed over the peaks, beginning to angle her way back towards the hotel. Lazily, she flicked her eye over the surroundings, taking in the black peaks and… a flash of red? Vaggie pulled a hard and sudden stop, fumbling a moment to suddenly halt her moment and pull into a hover. She could have sworn she saw someone in a red coat standing on top of one of the peaks, but no matter where she looked or for how long, she couldn’t see any hint of red among the crags. Weird. Normally she might pass something like that off as a stress induced hallucination, but she’d been fairly clear headed recently. Well, maybe a little overworked with the first two weeks of the hotel being open. That had to be it. Just her imagination. Probably.

Deciding that was enough flying for today, Vaggie cut her flight short and made a straight line back towards the hotel, intent on getting a shower and getting her mind off whatever she thought she saw.

Alighting on the hotel’s driveway, she took the time to wave and exchange pleasantries with a few of the guests. Being social wasn't exactly in her nature, but for Charlie's sake she at least tried. She was the girlfriend of the Hotel's owner and possibly future wife of the Queen of Hell (Queen’s queen? Co-queen? Mistress? Consort?) so it was entirely possible that over time she was going to likely be expected to be somewhat more publicly present as much as she'd prefer to hide in her office. She'd managed to avoid getting roped into any social events with demon royalty so far but luck likely wouldn't hold forever. Such was the cost of getting romantically involved with royalty but it was a burden she was willing to bear.

She could have avoided everyone entirely by simply flying onto their penthouse’s balcony and bathing there, but their bathroom was outfitted with a large, fancy tub. Very luxurious and great for long soaks or other activities but if one wanted a quick shower after a workout, it was better to just use the ones in the first floor gym. Benefits of owning the hotel, she had her own private locker right next to the shower entrance. Opening it up, Vaggie drew out her gym bag and pulled out some shower essentials. 

As she was setting about the task of peeling off her sweaty clothes, the sound of wet footsteps caught her attention. Typical locker room etiquette dictated that one typically minds their business and don't look around to ogle women coming around the shower, however, years of living in Hell meant one had to learn to be aware of their surroundings even in places that should be theoretically safe as you never know who might try something. 

A glance turned into a double take as the person strolling out of the showers happened to be none other than Lute. Lute, who was very naked aside from a towel draped over her shoulders in a fashion that barely covered her chest and nothing else. Worse yet, at the same time that Vaggie looked at her, Lute seemed to register Vaggie's presence as well. The other angel paused midstep, blinking at Vaggie in surprise. The silence was tense and extremely awkward as they just kind of… stared at each other.

 Thankfully, Lute broke the silence first. “Ah… you're back from your flight early.” She said simply, lifting an edge of her towel to wipe some errant water from her eyes.

“Mhm, cut things a bit short today.” Vaggie quickly turned back to facing her locker to avoid getting an eyeful of what Lute was casually revealing. It wasn't anything Vaggie hadn't seen before but it took quite a bit of self control not to stare anyway. Lute could be… frustratingly nonchalant about nudity. The woman would rather be caught dead than be seen wearing anything less than a full and proper uniform in public but seemingly held very little care for being seen in the buff. Back in their Exorcist days, Lute would be known to hold full conversations in the Exorcists’ public baths while completely nude. Vaggie tried not to stare, she really did but when you held a crush on someone for that long it was very hard to not look. There was a lot to look at, Vaggie knew Exorcists were made from clay but Lute may well have been carved from marble with those muscles. A little bit of staring was fine when you were an idiot with a crush, you have a girlfriend now. Eye forward, soldier.

“Apologies, my own workout must have gone long. I usually try to… well, I won't bother you long.” Lute said, walking off to her own locker. Vaggie knew what went unsaid, Lute usually tried to finish her workouts before she finished her morning flight. One of the many ways they tried to avoid each other. They worked together fine and could chat amiably but they didn't… hang out. At best they saw each other during work and dinner, but not much else. Without some task at hand to resolve or the excuse of eating food, the tension between them was loud and heavy.

“So…” Vaggie tried to break the awkwardness, focusing her actions on getting undressed as she talked. There was thankfully something to bring up at least. “Did you have any plans for the weekend?”

The question earned a loud and annoyed sigh from Lute. “No, I do not have any plans as yet, but I suppose I will have to figure out something to do. The Princess already spoke to me about actually taking my day off, if that is your angle. I am not exactly sure why this is such an issue. If it's a matter of compensation, I barely understand currency nor carry much value in it, I am willing to work off the clock.”

“That’s not the issue.” Vaggie almost laughed. Sure, she could try to explain to Lute that they were paying her a monthly salary rather than by the hour but this conversation was proof that the information had leaked out of her head from the last time they talked about it. More importantly, her response was proof that Lute was either not keeping track of the date or had forgotten why it might be important. Typical Lute. Charlie was probably pretty happy about that, she loved surprises. “Not taking appropriate amounts of rest is exactly the kind of thing that you used to berate the other Exorcists about. Overworked minds make for piss poor soldiers or something like that.”

“That… stop using my words against me.” Lute grumbled.

“Stop making it so easy and I’ll consider it.” Vaggie responded and got to enjoy hearing Lute mumble a curse under her breath. Basking in her victory, Vaggie finished undressing and wrapped a towel around herself. They lapsed into silence for a beat after that as Vaggie tucked bottles of shampoo and conditioner under her arm. Ready for her shower, she turned and began walking that way but she didn’t get far before Lute’s voice called her attention back.

“Vaggie… Can I ask a question?” Lute’s tone had gone soft and something about it halted Vaggie mid-step. Vaggie looked back at Lute, who was only half dressed, turned away and staring intently at the lockers in front of her as if she was afraid of looking at Vaggie.

“What’s on your mind?”

“... I know that I have no right to ask you this but… does the pain get any easier to bear?” Lute asked, a rare note of vulnerability in her voice. It wasn’t hard to figure out what pain Lute was referring to. Vaggie’s eye drifted down to Lute’s exposed back. Her back had healed from the worst of the damage but it was still marked from shoulders to hips by criss-crossed lines and curving patterns of discolored markings, centered around a pair of ugly crater-like scars on each of her shoulders. Alastor’s handiwork. A cruelty that Lute had at least partly deserved. Even with Lute’s bizarre ability to heal that had been capable of completely disappearing any signs of the electrical burn scars she had poorly tried to keep secret from Charlie and Vaggie, the marks on her back still looked new and likely wouldn’t heal for decades, if ever, such were the effects of angelic weapons. It was incredibly unlike Lute to even acknowledge that she was in pain, but Vaggie knew well what Lute was experiencing.

“The first few months were the hardest. Some days I couldn’t even bring myself to stand… but it did get easier with time but didn’t fade entirely. Since my wings came back, it's a lot better but I still have bad days.” Vaggie’s tone at the end of that sentence made Lute drop her head in shame, but Vaggie wasn’t here to rub Lute’s nose in her mistakes for once.

“I’m so sorry.”

“You’ve said. I know.”

“It shouldn’t have taken all this for me to realize-” Lute began, probably preparing to launch into some self-deprecating monologue, but Vaggie cut her off.

“Lute. We’ve had that talk, I know how you feel. I won’t pretend that these scars aren’t a well earned cross to bear…” Vaggie hadn’t exactly been thinking about what she was doing, eye fixed on the mass of angry scar tissue, but before she realized it she was only a step away from Lute. Her hand hovered over Lute’s back for a moment before tentatively touching the damaged skin. Lute twitched at the contact but didn’t pull away as Vaggie’s fingers traced over one of the many lines. Lute, like most angels, was slightly cool to the touch rather than warm like mortals. Her skin was flawlessly smooth where it was intact but turned rough over the scars. “but we’ve come far enough that I’m willing to help you with the weight a little.” Vaggie said. Lute looked over her shoulder at her, a sad yet hopeful expression in her eyes. Vaggie gave a half laugh, patting Lute's back before she pulled her hand away. “Don't look at me like that, there's no magic cure for chronic back pain, at least not down here. I can't even claim to know exactly how your situation is going to work out. You’ve got that weird healing ability but the damage is… a lot more extensive than mine”

“I'll get that Red Bastard, one day.” Growling, Lute shrugged her shirt on, turning her attention to buttoning it up. Logically, Vaggie shouldn't encourage further animosity against Alastor, buuuut she wouldn't mind seeing the man end up face down in a ditch before he inevitably ended up doing something to hurt Charlie. So she wasn't going to begrudge Lute a bit of snarling.

“Unfortunately, no time soon. Keep the peace, remember?” Vaggie said, getting a begrudging nod from Lute. “Anyways, no miracle cures but there are plenty of things that can help. We'll talk more about it later but the short answers are: stretches, hot and cold pads, anti-inflammatory medication, and pain killers are all about to become your best friends.”

“... I don't want to become overly reliant on drugs. Sucking down piles of pills was bad enough while I was healing.” Lute complained, likely thinking over some protests about possible addiction or the impairment of her mental facilities. She was predictable like that. 

“It'll be lower dose than what you were taking before but I'm not gonna babysit you on it. Whether you take them will be up to you. You should take them though, better you pop a pill every once in awhile than you fuck up because you're in too much pain to think, right?” Vaggie reasoned, getting another nod of assent from Lute after the woman thought about it for a beat. Vaggie had spent long enough to figuring out the tips and tricks required to convince Lute to do things to take care of herself, so she was pretty efficient at it by now.

She was holding back on one other potential aid for Lute's pain. Massages were also a massive help, one that Charlie was very good at providing. That seemed a step outside of Lute's comfort zone. Lute didn't like being touched in general and would likely strongly object to being manhandled by some random demon masseuse. She had become surprisingly tolerant of Charlie touching her, Charlie's hugs were difficult to resist or avoid but suggesting that Charlie give her a massage felt… awkward. Vaggie liked seeing the two get along, but how much was too much? Was there such a thing as too much? Waving the thought away, Vaggie turned and began making her way to the shower for real this time.

“As I said, we will talk more later. Now, you've used up enough of your personal time. Back to work, soldier.” 

“Ah! Right away, ma’am!” Lute stiffened, then began to rush through getting dressed. Vaggie paused, looking back at her with a raised brow as Lute nearly got tangled in a hasty attempt at a tie knot. Lute paused, blinked, then flushed slightly. “Ah… joke. Got it.” she mumbled, slowing her pace.

Chuckling, Vaggie finally made her way into the showers. Picking a stall and getting the water going.

Now that she was good and alone, well away from where Lute could see or hear, Vaggie took a deep and calming breath… then turned and smacked her head against the tiled shower wall. 

Why the fuck had she done that? Seriously? What the fuck? 

Caught up in the moment, She didn't ask before rubbing her hand all over Lute's back. Seriously, Vaggie of all people should know that kind of shit wasn't okay. She'd been pretty sensitive about people touching her scars, even Charlie for a while. Lute hadn't exactly… protested or anything but still. Principle of the thing. 

She shouldn't be touching Lute like that in general. What would Charlie think of that little interaction? Probably would not be thrilled about it, given the disdain in her tone when she talks about the way her Ex had been texting her. Vaggie was quite happy in her relationship and there was no reason for her to be ogling or groping other women. Especially Lute. 

Ugh. Vaggie you stupid, useless lesbian. Groaning, Vaggie knocked her head against the wall, banishing the thought of Lute's scars and the feel of her skin as she reached over and turned the knob on the shower. 

It was looking like a cold shower kind of day.

— 

Lute liked to get high.

It wasn't a particularly new habit or anything, it was one she'd always had, but she felt the urge for it quite a bit more often these days. Down here she didn't have access to her usual methods to get high but the Hotel's roof was at least a good place for it when she had the time to spare. 

Not like she could reach anywhere else without wings anyway. Still, being high up and having a bird's eye view of the world around her offered at least a sliver of peace of mind. A precious rarity in Hell. It gave her the chance to observe her surroundings from a place of relative security, keep an eye out for threats, and it was a surprisingly good place to practice guitar without being disturbed.

As much as she preferred the faster and heavier music, she was keeping it rather tame today. Much like martial training, music requires the establishment and routine practice of fundamentals alongside more complicated techniques. Thus, today she was working with the guitar in its base form, quietly strumming and feeling out the beat as she looked out over Pentagram city. 

The capital city of Pride was more or less living up to her assumptions based on flying over it for two and a half centuries. Fucking terrible. It was an unruly and chaotic mess. Packed to bursting with the worst humanity had to offer, Sinners that she struggled to remind herself were technically not completely beyond redemption… She was much less optimistic than the Princess, so far she had met maybe 3 or 4 that she could see being saved with a few decades of therapy. Unfortunately, as long as the chance existed, she had to give them the opportunity to try, and be ready when they refused. The city these Sinners had built for themselves was a reflection of their chaotic nature. Lacking any form of order beyond the vague Pentagram shape that gave it its name. Very different from the clean and orderly streets of Heaven she missed so dearly... But it was what she was stuck with, and it was her own fault.

Just as this somber thought entered her mind, she became aware of a new sound. Was that... Violin music? Gentle and soft, matching her rhythm. What the Hell? Lute's head swiveled around to its source, and much to her shock and mild horror, she saw none other than Lucifer Morningstar, the King of Hell. The man was standing on the roof (stem?) of the apple-shaped addition that he'd taken residence on the far side of the roof, a golden violin in his hands as he was drawing the bow across the strings.

In her shock, she hit a sour note and halted her playing. She… wasn’t sure what the protocol for this was. Was she supposed to keep playing? Leave to give him the roof? Shit, she should probably get up and bow or something. The man was king, but also he was the Devil and that still produced a lot of conflicting emotions. Unable to decide on a course of action, her result was just kind sitting there and gawking at him. The King just laughed in a surprisingly good natured fashion, pausing his own playing. Gesturing at her with his bow to keep playing, he tapped it against his violin to count her in. Still shocked and a little afraid of upsetting the man, she began to cautiously pluck at the strings again. With a fanged grin, Lucifer  resumed playing as well. It was... Surprisingly easy to duet with the man. Strangely, he let Lute lead despite her comparably amateur skill. Starting off slow and matching her pace until Lute began to feel more confident. In short order, she did her best to let herself simply fall into the flow of the music.

The song, slowly and peacefully began to take shape as the two played. Lucifer smiled still, hopping off the stem shaped protrusion of the roof as he began waltzing and playing his way across the rooftop while Lute sat and strummed. The music they made echoed out over the hotel and the city beyond. Logically, the sound probably wouldn't carry that far, but be it Lucifer’s magic or merely her imagination, the music seemed to carry farther than whatever logic might have foolishly attempted to dictate. For a strange and blissful moment, she could swear that the distant chaos of Pentagram City stilled. It was almost like all of Hell stopped what it was doing to sit and listen to the two angels play. 

It was a beautiful moment, and strangely, she had the Devil to thank for it… but it couldn't last forever. Much like every else, songs end eventually. Lute's fingers stilled, resting on the golden guitar as Lucifer drew out the final note across the strings. A silence lapsed between them, but it was more comfortable than she thought it would be. Lute sat on the parapet, her legs hanging over the edge and guitar on her lap as she kept her eyes on the city beyond. Lucifer walked over, setting down his violin and bow as he leaned against the edge, watching on with a contented smile.

“So… I want to say… Laura?” Lucifer began in a questioning tone.

“Lieutenant or Lute. Whichever you prefer, your Majesty.” It was rather difficult to tell if his grin was simply due to him being in a good mood or if that was an attempt at a joke. Still, she'd been around the hotel for the better part of 4 weeks since her fall from grace, you'd think the man would learn her name eventually… though it wasn't like they'd talked much. He was still The Devil so interactions with him were stilted and stressful at best, thankfully he seemed to be out of the building most of the time managing construction projects. 

“Ah right, now I got it. Well, good thing that Adam seems to have been better at teaching than he was at naming things. I’m assuming he taught you how to play?” Lucifer asked.

“Uhm, yes… he was surprisingly patient when it came to teaching. I was not the best student, my uhm… purpose makes it difficult to learn certain things, but Adam seemed happy to take the time.” Lute said with a soft smile. Those were some of her best memories. It had taken her years to learn even a single instrument, but she was determined to try. Adam had loved to sit and jam with her until she finally learned the ropes. Though it could be frustrating when he picked a new instrument to obsess over every few decades and she had to start all over. Thankfully, some knowledge translated between string instruments. 

“Oh yeah, I imagine he was probably pretty good with teaching, helps when you invented music. Damn, that man used to be so clever, just figuring shit out none of us ever thought of. I mean, well, we had music but that was like singing and stuff. Heavenly choir and all. Instruments were absolutely a foreign concept. Elasticity and shit being used to make sound? How novel.” Lucifer’s tone was nostalgic, idly plucking a string on his violin at the thought. 

“Pardon my ignorance, sir, but I rather expected you to have a somewhat more negative opinion of Adam. All things considered.”

“Eh, not really. I mean, yeah, I suppose I ended up getting a little intense and all during Extermination day. Charlie was in danger, you know? Dad’s gotta do what dad’s gotta do. The guy wasn’t in a listening mood and he always was the macho ‘talk with your fists’ type anyway. So I did, it just wasn’t a good talk for him.” Lucifer gave a non-committal shrug, though he actually looked a little melancholy about the topic. “Might be a bit of a surprise but I never hated Adam. Didn’t have a reason to, not like he ever did anything to me. Got a bit annoyed at his attitude from time to time, but I had nothing against him… He, on the other hand, had plenty of reason to hate me for the whole apple fiasco. Caaan’t exactly blame him for holding a grudge on that one. I’d have been happy as a damn calm to leave well enough alone if he hadn’t gotten my daughter involved, was willing to let him go too… but, well, Niffty did the thing with her knife and all.”

“I recall.” Lute said with a sigh.

“Point is, I liked Adam or I guess I used to anyway.  Admired his creative side. Lily and I kept an eye on him and Eve when they were starting out, tried to help in whatever small ways we could. Honestly, he inspired me to become a dad, even if it took a few thousand years for it to be the right time and all. Feels bad the way things turned out. You seemed to be close to him. Poor guy never had a lot of friends, being put on a pedestal like that tends to make it hard for others to get close to you. You must have meant a lot to each other. I am sorry for your loss, I do mean that.” Lucifer said, shocking Lute with the sincerity of his words. Lute stared at him, blinking as she realized that… was the first time someone actually expressed their condolences to her about Adam’s death. 

The Exorcists hadn’t wanted to talk about it and she’d been too upset at the time to listen if they tried. Sera had written his demise off as an unfortunate grim necessity caused by his arrogance. Emily hadn’t had much better thoughts on the topic. Vaggie’s hatred of the man was well known, it was honestly Vaggie’s best attempt to consider Lute’s feelings by simply not celebrating the man’s death around her. The Princess had been the closest to outright acknowledging the topic, pointing out that Adam’s death had meant as much to Lute as Dazzle’s death had to her… but even she hadn’t expressed any sorrow for the loss. Her heart seized at the thought and it took her a few seconds to master her emotions. Thankfully, if Lucifer noticed, he didn't comment.

“Thank you, Sir. The sentiment means a lot.” Lute responded and, much to her own surprise, a small laugh broke past her lips. “Sympathy from the Devil… He would have found that funny.”

“Hey, there’s a smile! Good to see it. Haha, you and Vaggie always look so glum.”

“I suppose we would. We both… find ourselves with a lot of regrets, Sir.” Lute sighed. Some more than others, she added in her mind. Her emotions regarding her past and future were still a complicated mess that would likely take years to sort out. She couldn't lie and just pretend that she couldn't still see some good in what her past life had been. To her mind, she had still been killing the worst of humanity and trying to keep the people of Heaven safe, following a man and a system she deemed worthy. Yet, she couldn't deny the sick pleasure she'd taken in the killing, the unfortunate and destructive end Adam had pushed them to, and the fact that among the many monsters she had destroyed there might have been some capable of change but never given the chance. She deserved to get cast out for the problems she's caused. Being down here had given her a chance to finally start reconciling with Vaggie and she was finding more and more she admired about the Princess, but embracing life in Hell felt a betrayal to everything she was created to be. 

“Regrets are unfortunately common for people like us.” Lucifer shrugged. The casual reminder of her status as cast out and soon to be Fallen wasn’t missed. It was an eventuality that she wouldn’t be able to simply ignore. It was also something she should probably ask about, try to get an understanding of what that transition meant and how it would change her but she wasn’t ready for that talk yet. “Whether leaving by choice or by force, nobody gives up Heaven easily. At this point I’m pretty sure everyone down here regrets something.”

Lute nodded slightly. A question came to her mind, one that she wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to ask… but it wasn’t often that one had the Devil around to ask him directly.

“... Do you regret it, sir?” Lute asked, earning a questioning look from Lucifer. Lute turned her eyes towards Pentagram City, stuffed to bursting with billions of souls and it only being one of several cities spread across the Ring of Pride. “Giving them Free Will, I mean.”

“Ah.” Lucifer responded simply, not answering immediately. Lute feared she’d finally said something to offend the man, but he just turned his eyes to the city as well. The natural cheeriness and enthusiasm that she had been starting to believe to be a genetic component of the Morningstar line waned and Lute caught a glimpse of something beneath. Old as time and equally worn down, like a great monument ground down to sand by the passing of millennia. “... In my weaker moments, yes. Not particularly proud of that but it's hard to help. Every day of my eternity has been a constant reminder of what I did, the world I broke, the lives I ruined. I thought I was doing something good, doing something that would take mankind from a mere side project to something truly unique and well, yeah. I guess it did work in that sense but fuck, talk about consequences of my actions, right?”

Lucifer sighed, shaking his head as he got lost in a memory.

“Free Will… was a mistake.” he admitted, nodding towards Lute’s look of surprise at the admission. “Yeah, probably weird to hear me of all people say it and all, but it's the truth. Absolutely not part of the plan. Our plan at least, still debatable if God saw that one coming or not, the shitheel was always insufferably vague about that.”

“... Is such overt blasphemy a wise decision, sir?” Lute asked, scooching a bit away from Lucifer just in case.

“What’s God gonna do? Banish me to Hell?” barking a dark laugh, Lucifer shook his head. “Earth and mankind were… It’s hard to describe in a way that makes sense to someone lacking a cosmic perspective. We angels always had the power to make things and we filled Heaven with wonders at the flick of a wrist but everything created with magic felt so...  fake. Ephemeral, if you need a fancy word. God set us on the path of making something more real. A planet with life that could grow and evolve on its own. Animals were just the start, but humans? They were going to be the real key. Thousands of years of work to make a way to produce souls though completely biological, non-magical means… We just never expected them to not get along, we made them to be compatible so why weren’t they? Well, in truth, Lilith was defective. Doesn’t sound nice to say but that's the shape of it. Someone didn’t hook up her neurons correctly and she could… make decisions outside of what we had created her to. Obviously, we made it so mankind could think on their own and were smarter than animals but most of what Adam and Eve managed was mimicry of us angels and the animals around him, with a bet of creative interpretation thrown in. Lilith though? She could form entirely new ideas and opinions, even disobey orders. It was the most astounding thing I’d ever seen. She was free in a way even we angels weren’t! I just had to replicate it and give that for the rest of mankind… if only I knew what kind of disaster that would cause.”

Lucifer sighed, shaking his head. Lute had never heard this side of the story, she had always been told that Lucifer’s gift of Free Will was a poisoned gift meant to drive mankind away from God, but his intent seemed so much more… genuine.

“And, well, after a bit of upset regarding my getting kicked out.” Lucifer made a rather severe understatement of the world shattering war he waged against Heaven. ‘A bit of an upset’ indeed. “Being down here, well… I was cut off from the mortal realm for a long time. Thought I was doomed to only see the worst of mankind, the corruption I let in their hearts. Let that get me down for a long fucking time. Thankfully, Lily was there to get me off my ass. She had the good idea to point out that I was sitting around and moaning about not getting to see the good of mankind while sitting in my mansion, drinking whiskey in a three piece suit and sawing on my violin.”

“... I don’t get it? Was she just pointing out your luxury or…?” Lute trailed off, trying to figure out what Lilith’s comment was supposed to mean. She had seen the woman a handful of times interacting with Adam, but couldn’t profess to know her well. She came across as rather severe and spiteful, very unlike her husband and daughter but it was hard to tell if that was just an act she put on dealing with Heaven. Lute made a face, an odd taste in her mouth. There didn’t seem to be an ocean anywhere near here? Maybe that lake in the district off to the left was saltwater, made as much sense as anything else. She didn’t dwell on it as Lucifer laughed.

“That was my first thought, yeah. This time with Charlie though is what really opened my eyes. I was moaning about not seeing the good humanity had done, while surrounded by all the things humans had invented! I mean, really think about that! Down here in the depths, surrounded by nothing but misery, the best works of humanity still manage to filter their way down here. Seriously, look at Pentagram City!” Lucifer, taken by a sudden excitement, hopped up on the parapet, gesturing at the chaotic mess of the city as if it as the most glorious work of art he’d ever seen. “I remember when this place was just an empty crater! We gave the first Sinners some help but mostly left them to their own devices and eventually they built this! A massive, thriving monument to the advancement of humanity! Even if its messy and imperfect, its still amazing. Humans can build and create things angels never dreamed of, have the determination to thrive even in Hell, and have the will to continue to persist even with centuries of being hunted! I mean, sure, they can still be a little terrible from time to time as individuals but this is just what the bad ones managed to get done! You’ve been in Heaven, you’ve seen all the glorious things they can accomplish.”

Lute sat and stared at the man, blinking. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t immediately form a real thought. She had never considered humanity in such a fashion. She was a few centuries old, sure, but she was young in the grand scheme. Humanity was fairly well advanced even when she was created and only had progressed since, that wasn’t particularly surprising… Yet Lucifer’s perspective, who’d been with mankind since its infancy, well she had to admit that they’d come a long way from fires and pointed sticks. The hotel they were sitting on was proof of that. No angel or demon had conceived of the building styles that inspired it. No angel or demon created the recipes of the food they ate, learned to make silk for the sheets, invented wiring or harnessed electricity. Having the best mankind had to offer in Heaven had simply been a given, Heaven was supposed to be filled with the best of mankind. Yet some of these things were in Hell as well. There were a million, million tiny pieces of mankind’s collective intelligence behind every luxury she took for granted down here and they had to have come from Hell from the Sinners.

“I-I never thought of it that way.” Lute managed at last, seeing the city in a new light and understanding the miracle that it existed at all.

“Haha, took me a bit too. In the end, thinking about mankind in that light. I do stand by my decision all those years ago. Free Will came with a lot of drawbacks, but I don’t think they would have gotten this far without it.”

“I suppose.” Lute said, then looked down at her guitar. Exorcists had a touch of humanity in them, never enough to be truly considered human. Lute always considered that touch of humanity to be a weakness, a stain against the purity and power of an angel… Now she wasn’t so sure. “Free Will just seems… such a burden at times.” she admitted. Lucifer gave a sympathetic nod.

“Being responsible for your own actions is pretty rough, huh?” The man was unfortunately rather insightful.

“Very rough.” Lute admitted.

“... Dooooo you want to talk about it?”

“Thank you, sir… but no. Not today and not with you, no offense, sir.” Lute said, looking back up at the man as he casually dropped from standing to sit next to her, though still at a respectful distance. Thankfully he seemed to have a better sense of boundaries than his daughter.

“Hey, it's cool, kid. Personal stuff, not my place, I get it. Figure your stuff out when you’re ready.”

“I appreciate your understanding, sir… though… uhm.” Lute idly tapped her fingers against the guitar, taking a second or two to work up the nerve. Lucifer simply waited there, all too patiently. The man, like his daughter, seemed too kind. Nothing like the monster she had been taught to expect. It could be a very convincing lie, yet another long con to seduce Lute to the dark depths before pulling the rug out from under her. She didn’t think it was and was starting to feel like it hardly mattered. She didn’t really have anywhere else to be. “Could… could we play another song?”

Lucifer, The King of Hell and The First Fallen Angel, smiled in a way that was shockingly paternal as he made a gesture that caused his violin and bow to fly into his hands.

“Sure, kid. Any song you like.”

Chapter Text

Breathe, relax, move.

Closing her eyes, Lute took a long breath. She let it fill her lungs and imagined that breath spreading out through every inch of her like a wave washing away stress and tension. Though it may seem strange to some, relaxation was key to combat. Balancing a state of relaxed ease with awareness and focus was one of the most difficult things a fighter of any discipline could learn, the natural instinct when expecting pain was to tense up and controlling that impulse had taken years even for her to master. The faster one was able to make their muscles shift from relaxed to tense, the more explosive power those muscles released as they snapped into action.

It took a few moments of regular breathing for Lute to transfer into a suitably relaxed state as the litany of stresses that plagued her mind battered against her force of will. She found it eventually, releasing a final breath as she dropped into stance, eyes opening and focusing on her target… her stance was wrong, she could feel it. Without looking, she made a few adjustments. Naturally, she had copied the stance that was in the video, but her frame was different from the person on the screen so adjustments had to be made. Feeling a bit better, Lute reached a hand forward and gave the waiting punching bag a shove.

As the heavy bag began to sway, so did Lute. Locking her eyes on the moving bag, blocking out everything else until that swaying became the only thing left in the world. Lute’s body matched its rhythm perfectly, her arms drawing up in a guarded stance, her feet light and ready to move rather than planted firmly. Finally, she moved. Her right fist snapped outward in a quick jab and impacted the smooth leather with a sharp sound. The impact of the light jab changed the rhythm of the bag’s swing and Lute adjusted to match it immediately. This became the game, everytime her fist collided with the bag, it changed the way the bag moved, thus the way Lute moved until the next blow repeated the process.

Faster and faster, blow after blow hammered against the reinforced leather. It was almost a music unto itself, Lute pounding out a rhythm against the bag accompanied by the clinking of the bouncing chain that suspended it. Quick jabs evolved into heavier swings, hooks, uppercuts. Lute was no expert in boxing, but she’d been making an effort to study and practice the art of it. The basics came easily enough, her body was fit and many of the elements of self mastery required for martial arts she had already learned through her practice with various weapon disciplines but there was more to learn. Her strikes were clumsy to her own eyes still, and it would likely require many weeks of practice until she would be confident in using these techniques in actual combat. Today was mostly about breaking in her new punching bag… She had put holes in the last two.

Lute had always held a fascination with martial arts, the idea of turning one's own body into a weapon had a very unique appeal. Still, it was not a path she had reason to pursue until recently. Though angels were innately holy, their bare hands did not have the potential to render final death to sinners. No weapon, no point. Still, her interest had lingered for boxing in particular partly because of one of those cartoons that Vaggie liked to watch, something with a long Japanese name that rhymed with hippo. The plot of most of the shows Vaggie had liked to watch with her often went over Lute's head but that one in particular stuck out. The dedication the characters put towards training and the way they fought with fists alone had enraptured her.

Now that she was in Hell, though she possessed powerful weapons like her claws and the guitar, the Princess requested that Lute invest in some less lethal ways to subdue sinners. It was one of the orders that Lute both liked and disliked. Despite all that she had learned, some sinners still very much deserved final death and constantly restraining herself from trying to deliver it was taxing on the mind… on the other hand, it gave her an excuse to practice boxing, which she was greatly enjoying. Just the chance to work her muscles and hit something . 

It felt so fucking good. The burning of exercised muscles, the flare of adrenaline, the shock that ran up her arm and rattled her teeth. It might have only been a simulacrum of the thrill of combat but damn if she didn’t want to just let go and live in that feeling.

Still, she had to be careful about indulging her rage. Last she let it consume her, it had led to her downfall. It only made sense to try to tamp it down, keep it locked away and only ever release small fractions of the building pressure when she was doing something safe like training. Everyday, she could feel the pressure building, threatening to overflow the well, so it needed an occasional release. Punch the bag, release the pressure, and feel better. It wasn't yet a perfect system, the Princess had admonished her more than once for getting too aggressive with the guests over incidents that even Lute had to admit were minor infractions at best. The lack of self control was embarrassing and inexplicable, she never used to get so angry when reprimanding the Exorcists. Perhaps it was merely a factor of still getting used to handling sinners in such a non-lethal fashion… or the general constant stress of being banished to Hell… or the haunting memories of Adam's death and what she did to Vaggie… or the constant pain from the mutilated state of her body… or-

“Christ, go any harder on that bag and you'll put it through the wall.” 

The voice, rich with wry humor trying to hide a drop of concern, cut through her thoughts and the frantic pounding rhythm with which she'd been hitting the bag. Her eyes snapped to the source and saw the slouched form of Husk standing, thankfully, a safe distance away. Any closer and she might have assaulted the man. With an effort of will, Lute took a breath to center herself and caught the wildly bouncing bag before it could swing back and try to throw her off her feet.

“I've told you not to sneak up on me like that. It's bad for your health,” Lute said between breaths. Her heart was pounding like it wanted out of her ribcage… She might have released a little too much pressure. Possibly not enough. Extremely hard to tell the difference.

“Ain't you funny,” Husk commented, taking a sip from his ever present flask. He did, in fact, know better and it was shown in how he gave Lute a couple seconds to steady her breathing before he dared to step closer. The man was smart enough to know how to act in the presence of a predator, likely learned from having to deal with his rather unstable master. “Not like I try to sneak around, you get a little hyper focused when you're working up a sweat.”

Lute merely gave an annoyed grumble in response. Yet another bad habit she needed to master. Getting lost in her thoughts was unhealthy territory. The less she thought, the better. Even if Husk said he wasn't trying to be stealthy, those infernal cat paws of his gave him a naturally light tread, so why couldn't he wear shoes like a regular person? At least he'd taken her advice and gotten a shirt. “Is it time already?” she asked.

“Just about, figured I'd need to come pull you out of workout mode. Angel and Cherri should be meeting us in the lobby in a few, so you've got time if you're gonna clean up,” Husk said.

Lute nodded as she stepped away from the bag. Husk was surprisingly reliable for an old drunk. Give him a task and he got it done, a respectable trait. She went about the process of undoing the cloth wraps around her fists. The only thing she didn't like about boxing was those stupid puffy gloves. Fine if you're training for sports, but not for combat. The wraps on her right hand did enough to protect her knuckles while also letting her get used to the sensation of impact… though the aching sensation from her hand told her she might have overdone it today. The wraps on her left hand were more about protecting the bag from getting torn up by her prosthetic. Metal joints tended to not be terribly kind to leather.

Speaking of the bag, she heard a slight thumping sound, turning to see a curious cat giving the bag an experimental punch. Husk frowned when it barely swayed on impact.

“... How heavy is this fucking thing? Feels like it's full of lead,” He asked, continuing to prod at the bag to get a feel for its weight.

“It is, indeed, full of lead. Layers of padding, packed with sand and lead shot, wrapped in reinforced catoblepas leather imported from Wrath. Weighs about three hundred pounds.” Lute rattled off the details with a strange sense of pride. Perhaps it was silly, but the punching bag was technically her first purchase that she had chosen for herself and used her own money to buy. After accidentally destroying the hotel's first two sandbags, a rather annoyed Vaggie had tasked her with getting her own bag. It had been a grueling process to navigate the nightmare that was online shopping but she was honestly rather impressed with the result. The website claimed it was a miniaturized version of Satan’s own punching bag, which Lute sincerely doubted. Judging on legends alone, Satan was likely far too powerful to be hitting anything that wasn't magically enchanted… She also didn’t know what a catoblepas was but assumed it to be some variety of Hellbeast. Whatever it was, its leather was very durable.

“Impressive,” Husk noted, and indeed it was an impressive piece of equipment, though Lute wasn’t sure why he looked at her rather than the bag. He also had that infuriating little smirk of his, like he was aware of something that Lute wasn’t. Which he very likely was. Damnable drunkard was well known for abusing his position as the humble barkeep to gather all kinds of little secrets and personal thoughts from the rest of the staff. Lute might have wondered if he was simply talented in social skills or actually possessed some kind of subtle mental ability to trick them into speaking more freely… Then there was the third option in which alcohol had a habit of loosening people’s tongues. Yes, that was probably the secret behind the tophat. Husk continued talking, disturbing her musings, “More impressive was how you had that bag jumping. Fuck, I know you hit hard from experience but it ain’t easy to get a bag like this to fucking dance.”

“I hit things hard, it’s what I’m good at and all I’m good for.” Lute gave an easy shrug, throwing her towel over her shoulder. As she used one end to wipe the sweat from her brow, she ignored the way her comment made Husk frown. It wasn’t anything to be upset over. It was simply her lot in life. She had been made with the express purpose of being a weapon. It had taken an unfortunately long time to realize that weapon was being pointed in the wrong direction, but she was held in better hands now. A blade pointed towards a better purpose, which she thanked the Princess and Vaggie for. Now it was on her to fix all the damage left behind by misuse. To sharpen rusted edges, become stronger, more useful.

“Lute-” Husk began, but hearing that note of concern in his voice, Lute opted to cut him off.

“You said I had time to shower, yes? Good. I’ll meet you and the others in the lobby once I’m cleaned up and presentable.” The dismissal was a bit abrupt, but he had that look about him that he got when he was preparing some of his trademark ‘rock bottom wisdom’. Lute neither wanted nor needed such a thing, she had much more important things to do today. There was the distinct sound of a sigh from him as she turned away and strolled off towards the showers. Avoidance wasn’t the best tactic, but it was one Lute knew well.

—

Lute did not like walking the streets of Pentagram city. It gave the distinct feeling of being in enemy territory and she was without halo or wings. Vulnerable. Not even anonymity would protect her now, her stunt at the grand opening had likely been broadcast across every single circle of Hell. Sinners and hellborn knew who she was and what she was. It wasn’t hard to imagine that many might set prices on the head of an Exorcist. She could practically feel herself being watched from the many doors and windows she passed. Once she had been the terrible monster that sent them running and afraid, now she was exposed. At any moment, a random assailant might jump her from a dark alley or try to take her out with a gunshot from the many windows. The thought of constantly being under threat made her hand twitch from the mounting stress, but she did her best to keep her head high and stride steady. She would give no sinner the satisfaction of seeing her show cowardice. Let them see her walking tall and unafraid, make them second guess their plots of vengeance. 

Besides, as stressful as walking the streets might be… it was still worlds better than being driven around by that lunatic goat.

Being in a group also didn’t hurt. It had taken some convincing to get Husk, Angel Dust, and Cherri Bomb to agree with her intent to walk but when she had to rather shamefully admit to the issues regarding her last ride in a motorized vehicle, they had conceded to her desire… though not without complaint.

“No, no no. Wait a fuckin' minute,” Angel Dust held up his hands to stop their little group, making full use of his extra arms to articulate his annoyance and exasperation. Two hands on his hips, one pinching the area that once had a nose, and the fourth to gesticulate wildly as was his way. He could be rather creative about that. “Ya seriously dragged us all tha way out to tha damn Doomsday District ta help ya train … on your day off?”

“That is an accurate summation of what I just explained, yes.” Lute barely paused her stride, she was not about to become a stationary target while walking the streets of Pentagram City, Angel's need for theatrics be damned. “If Miss Morningstar and Vaggie are going to insist that I take the time off, I might as well endeavor to fill that time being productive.”

“Not sure what you two were expecting from Tightass here.”  Husk patted Angel on the shoulder as the other sinner threw up his hands in exasperation before he moved on to keep pace with Lute. She rolled her eyes, she was exactly as uptight as was necessary to do her job.

“Dunno. Kinda hopin’ for some glances inta the secret, sexy life of Lute or somethin’,” Cherri added with a chuckle. Lute tried to ignore the unintentional reminder that her time in Hell was marked by something of a… dry spell. It wasn't like she was desperate or anything but it distinctly didn't help with her constant frustration. Not exactly a lot of available options on the market that were the right mix of sane and single to be worth consideration.

“Whaddya even need to train for? Ain't ya scary enough?” Angel griped, but she felt he was mostly complaining because this outing wasn't turning out to be as fun as he assumed. He would get his chance to have some fun soon, Lute had quite a bit planned. 

Before she could say anything to that effect, Cherri decided to cut in, a teasing grin on her face as she playfully punched Lute in the shoulder.

“Ah nah, Lute mighta been a right crazy bitch when we met, but now that Charlie and Vags have her on a leash, she's practically harml-urk.” Cherri’s attempt at teasing was cut abruptly short when her jaw was forced shut by the presence of one of Lute's claws pressed against it. Cherri had shown to have good instincts and experience in combat but Lute had already taken the woman’s measure and found it lacking. Lute was a different beast compared to her. Even if she had never been close to Vaggie’s speed, Lute was by no means slow. It was all too easy to have Cherri Bomb at her mercy with a single finger. The angelic steel seemed to thrum with the promise of violence, it would only take a small fraction of pressure to impale its way through Cherri Bomb’s neck.

The Sinner’s eye focused on Lute, seemingly both annoyed and amused for being cut off in such a fashion. As she met Lute's cold stare and found it was utterly devoid of anything resembling humor, Cherri's initial thoughts that this might be a joke began to wither away. Something of the old Lute dropped into that glare. The Lute that saw sinners as nothing but walking piles of meat to be torn apart for amusement. That side of Lute was not suddenly dead, only repressed through force of will. She might be collared but she was far from tamed. Cherri's eye widened with very real fear and Lute tried not to enjoy it too much .

It did feel good… natural even. The faint sensation of a quickened pulse under her claw, the tremble of fear, the rapid breath. Cherri, usually so confident, was reduced to a frightened animal under her gaze. Lute felt herself a predator, a mighty eagle pinning down a frightened mouse. These Sinners were too used to her, deluding themselves into thinking that merely because she was not actively trying to kill them that meant she was no longer dangerous. Lute was all too happy to shatter this illusion and remind them of exactly who she was.

“Still think I'm harmless?” Lute asked, her voice still cold as ice. Taking a shuddering breath, Cherri did her best to give a slight shake of her head in the negative, moving as little as necessary to convey her thoughts without disturbing the blade on her throat. “Very good. Keep that in mind.” she said as she withdrew the claw, letting the sinner sag with relief. 

A series of clicks followed as Angel Dust clicked back on the safety for all six of the guns that had been pointed at Lute's skull and though Husk acted unphased by the whole affair, Lute was getting better at spotting the subtle hand motion of him putting away one of his playing cards. Good to know their instincts hadn't fully dulled, they were quick to respond in the presence of a predator. Cherri Bomb, ever one for false confidence, awkwardly laughed off the affair as she rubbed at her throat.

“D-damn, anyone ever told ya that you're a bit intense?” she asked, trying valiantly to act like she hadn't just been terrified for her life.

“Frequently.”

“Fuck’s sake, do ya need to to be so harsh? Nearly shot ya,” Angel sighed, putting away his guns. The expression on his face was showing a mix of exasperation and relief, his memories of fighting Lute before were fresh enough to make him rightfully anxious about the process but it spoke a lot to his potential that both he and Husk had been willing. That was something critical that Lute needed to keep in mind, evidence of the potential of sinners.

“Ey! Ya fuckin’ nicked me! You ain’t allowed to do that, right?” Cherri cut in, drawing her hand away from her throat to reveal a few drops of red blood. She was being dramatic. Lute had left barely a papercut as she pulled her claw away, it would barely bleed at all… though the wound was angelic in nature and would take most of the rest of the day to stop bleeding. It would serve as a good reminder of her lesson.

“To answer both, yes, I do need to be that harsh because I am allowed to do that.” Lute returned to walking deeper into the streets of the Doomsday District. With some amount of confusion and reluctance, the others followed along. No one wanted to linger in one spot for too long. “The duty that I have been assigned is one of protection. The Princess and Vaggie, the hotel and its residents. I am bound by contract to protect them and they are protected from me. Cherri Bomb, for all that you like to live in the hotel and help the staff, you continue to refuse to join in any official capacity. Quite literally the only thing protecting you from me is my self control.”

It was a bit of a heavy handed tactic, but Lute was not a creature of subtlety. Amidst the maddened blur that was her fight against the hotel, she had seen that Cherri had that same potential as the others. Her willingness to fight and protect was something that Lute respected… but the woman was frustratingly intent on keeping a layer of separation from the hotel and, by extension, the idea of redemption. She felt that Cherri was capable of it, yet she held herself back from it for reasons Lute couldn’t understand. So long as Cherri held that stubborn idea, Lute could not protect her.

“Yeah yeah, Don’t try that shit. I’m just here for the free rent.” Cherri shrugged off Lute’s attempt, it apparently wouldn’t be so easy. The sinner dutifully ignored the doubtful looks of everyone around her. At least Lute wasn’t alone in her assessment. She wasn’t sure whether trying to force the topic was the right choice. Lute had needed to be forced to change, but she was hardly the expert. Cherri, flippant, continued talking, “I’m perfectly happy without that redemption shit, but tell you what, Lute. If I ever change my mind then I’ll have you check me in personally.”

“Careful with that, Crazy here is gonna hold you to that,” Husk added and indeed he was right. Lute was not going to forget that anytime soon… but there was nothing to do about that at the moment. They had enough to do today.

Lute looked around herself, considering the streets. She had flown above them hundreds of times but had never taken the time to memorize them, still she was fairly sure that she had counted the number of blocks right. Vaggie’s map of the city was very accurate and updated regularly. Normally information of that density was something that Lute’s mind struggled to absorb, but since it was tactical information relating to the territories, strengths, and weaknesses of potential enemies, it qualified as something a soldier should know and therefore it was easy to digest and commit to memory. Her mind could be curious like that at times, but centuries of experimentation helped her navigate its foibles most of the time. If she had the distance right, they were well outside the area of territory claimed by Cherri Bomb and into the depths of the so-called ‘Doomsday District’. It was one of the more curious locations in Pentagram City. The entire district was technically the domain of the overlord ‘Missi Zilla’ but she encouraged people to continually fight over territory within and rewarded those who proved themselves victorious. Quite the opposite of the attempts to maintain peace that most Overlords did for their own domain. Because of this, the Doomsday District was in a state of near constant war and the most dangerous section of Pentagram City by an order of magnitude… which made it perfect for Lute’s use.

This current section, according to Vaggie, was currently unclaimed as the result of a rather large clash between rival gangs that had ended in mutual destruction. Thus, these streets were currently more or less abandoned and no one could complain about a bit of property damage… or potentially a lot of property damage, depending on how things went.

“This place will do,” Lute announced, drawing to a stop. Yes, yes, this place would be good. A fairly wide intersection, the buildings were mostly upright but looked to be in a poor enough state that they wouldn’t have attracted squatters.

“For your training bullshit that you haven’t actually explained,” Husk commented. The man glanced around for a moment before he found a decently sized chunk of rubble to sit down on, groaning after the long walk. He really was out of shape, she’d have to continue to try to get him to be active.

“Correct. As was pointed out, while I am already rather ‘scary’, I have determined that my physical abilities are not enough. I must expand my skills,” Lute explained.

“Ya ain’t invulnerable anymore, right?” Angel said, catching on. He, in particular, had been on the receiving end of some of the more creative applications of her indestructible nature.

“That, and I lost my ability of flight. Even if I went into the battle with a clear mind and healthy body, I would not be able to repeat my performance against all of you and Alastor without those abilities.” The admission stung, but Lute did not shy away from it. She was, by all accounts, weaker than she had arrived. She did seem to have gained a rather high tolerance for pain and a better than average ability to recover from injury but these were far removed from invulnerability but it was no replacement. “Ergo, If I wish to be able to protect the hotel effectively, I need to work to expand and improve my skills by whatever means necessary. This is where you all come in.”

“Yeeeah, really hope ya don’t expect us to run laps with ya or nothing. Not my kind of workout, if ya catch my meanin’,” Angel chuckled, choosing to sit down next to Husk. Rather close to Husk if you asked Lute. Those two seemed rather comfortable with each other, which Lute had a few assumptions about but had yet to pry the topic out of Husk.

“No, you will be helping me in a more straightforward way. Thank you for volunteering, Cherri.” Lute resisted a small smile as Cherri blinked in surprise, noting that she was the only one still standing, which Lute was choosing to interpret as volunteering. 

“Fuuuck, fine, whaddya want me to do?”

“Throw bombs at me,” Lute stated simply.

“Uh… what?” Cherri blinked slowly, as if this was some kind of insane and unreasonable request.

“I am going to go down to the far end of the street, you will throw your bombs at me with the intent to try to keep me from reaching you. The point of the exercise is to help me break bad habits of reliance on my invulnerability, work on my dodging and reaction time. After a few rounds, Angel Dust can swap in with his guns, then Husk with his playing cards. Should be an acceptable warm up,” Lute explained. It had been a great plan in her opinion. While combat was obviously the best teacher, this would be a close enough simulation. Alternating through Cherri’s bombs and Angel’s guns would familiarize her with some of the more common weapons used in Hell, and while Husk’s weapon choices were rather unique, he did have angelic weapons which she could always use more practice against.

Her companions, rather than agree or play along, just kind of … stared at her. Lute was getting rather familiar with that particular facial expression and could accurately guess what was about to be said next. 

“Lute, what the fuck?” As expected, Husk was the first one to respond. It was hard to tell if she was getting better at predicting her companions or if Lute herself was becoming predictable.

“Yeah, uh… maybe ya coulda warned us. Not exactly carrying firecrackers here.” Cherri produced one of her bombs, thankfully they were of the mundane variety. If Lute had to guess she was well past out of any angelic bombs.

“Don’t have any blanks or nothin’ either.” Angel added in, though she didn’t really understand his look of concern.

“Blanks? Blank what?” Lute asked, rather confused.

“Blank… bullets? You know, shoot tha gun, make a loud noise and shit, doesn’t actually shoot nothin? Props for movies and shit.” Angel explained.

“Ah, pardon me, I am unfamiliar with the workings of guns. Still, you won’t be needing anything like that. I am expecting you all to be using live ammunition, the exercise would be largely pointless otherwise." This was taking quite a bit longer to explain than she had hoped. Day off or not, she was rather hoping to not spend all day out here. When they continued to stare at her as if she was insane, she just sighed. “Look, I need to familiarize myself with the dangers these weapons present, as I am too used to simply shrugging off such attacks. Even during our last battle when I was rightfully concerned about your weapons being angelic, I still wasn’t able to dodge well enough to avoid injury, ergo I need the practice. The entire point is that I will be trying to dodge, so don’t worry about it. Worst case scenario, I get caught with a stray bullet or some shrapnel, good way to test my pain tolerance and healing ability. Look, just think of it as… revenge for how I attacked you all. I hurt you, now you get to shoot me. Fair’s fair.”

“That is… a new level of crazy. Are you just addicted to having Charlie stitch you up or something? We haven't exactly been friendly for that long but you really expect us to participate in something that might actually kill you?” Husk asked.

“I sincerely doubt that I will be in need of Miss Morningstar’s medical ministrations,” Lute said with a roll of her eyes. Truth be told, she didn't exactly mind receiving medical care from the Princess. Being injured and receiving medical care was still a fairly new experience for Lute, but despite the circumstances that led to it, she could likely have ended up with a worse source of first aid. The Princess was… gentle in her care… though at the same time, the thought of ending up receiving treatment would likely mean a solid hour of getting lectured by her and Vaggie. In the last two weeks they had been getting weirdly vocal about Lute getting hurt. They'd practically been in a frenzy when they discovered the burns Vox gave her. Lute couldn't understand why. Not so long ago she'd been an enemy with well deserved injuries and even now, occasionally getting hurt was practically part of her job description. This particular oddity was why Lute hadn't exactly informed either of them in regards to her plans for the day, better to avoid the lecture.

“That aside,” She quickly waved off the mental tangent before she could stray further afield. “I seriously didn't expect any of you to be this difficult to convince. None of you are strangers to this kind of thing. Most of you do it for fun.” She said, looking mostly at Cherri when she said this.

“Well yeah, I enjoy a toss up now and then but shit, pretty much everyone I kill fuckin walks it off by the end of the day. You won't. One stray bullet or a bomb too close and you're donezo, mate,” Cherri explained, awkwardly rubbing at the back of her neck, as if Lute's mortality was some taboo topic. Then again, that was why Exorcists were once so feared, Sinners were a little too used to treating death as a minor inconvenience.

“Please, you couldn't kill me if you were trying, we've proven that already,” Lute said with a dismissive wave. The jab was a gamble, but a tactical one. Cherri, like her bombs, had a bit of a short fuse. Casting a bit of doubt about her abilities was usually enough to motivate her. The annoyed glares she got from Husk and Angel showed they were on to her game, but the way Cherri Bomb narrowed her eye and set her shoulder told Lute that it had worked. The anarchist was ready to rise to the occasion.

“Come on, don't fall for it, Cherr,” Angel groaned.

“Too late, stupid train has left the station,” Husk said with a sigh.

“Hey, if the crazy cunt wants to play with fire, then I’m fuckin game.” Now much more in the mood, Cherri stepped forward with some confidence. She quickly used her thumb to wipe a lingering drop of blood from her throat, glanced at it, then turned a glare towards Lute. Oh? It seemed that she was intent on some payback for Lute’s earlier display. Perfect, exactly the kind of attitude Lute had been hoping for.

“Merveilleux.”

After a minute and a bit of planning, Lute stood on the far end of a nearby street as she did some light stretching. After some debate in regards to distance, they’d settled on an approximately 100 meter dash down a fairly narrow street. Simple straight shot towards her target, a decent bit of rubble in the street, but not a lot of places for Lute to take cover in. Straightforward and the best recreation of what she would be likely to encounter when fighting in Pentagram City. She was too spoiled by being able to fly and making use of open terrain, and needed more practice with Pentagram City’s tight streets. After one last stretch and a satisfying pop of her back, Lute settled into the starting position.

“Finally fucking ready?” Cherri was rather impatient for someone who had been skeptical about doing this at the start, tossing one of her bombs back and forth at the far end of the street. Lute just nodded and held position. Cherri would be the one to actually call the start of the exercise, which allowed her to set the pace. The nature of this was for Lute to be reacting to danger, not simply charging in on her own terms.

Cherri didn’t leave Lute waiting long, immediately winding up for a pitch. Lute had to give credit to her form, the cyclops could have put professional baseball players to shame with that throwing arm. As soon as the first bomb left her hand, Lute kicked off and began her sprint, bolting off to the right as the bomb came straight at where she had been standing, exploding before it even hit the ground. Lute was barely out of the blast radius by the time it did, feeling a rush of heat and displaced pressure at her back as she ran. It might’ve been a good move, but she barely managed to catch the hissing sound of a burning fuse and leaped to the left. A second bomb, thrown near immediately after the first while she was distracted. Clever. This explosion was a little too close for comfort, knocking Lute backwards and pelting her with bits of shrapnel.

Lute rolled to get back on her feet and moving as quickly as she could, she didn’t immediately feel any pain so she had to assume she was fine. No time to check. Lute vaulted over the burnt wreck of a car, focusing ahead of her. Just in time it would seem, another bomb was flying her way. A different shape, not a round grenade but a canister trailing foul smelling smoke. Harmless but distracting. Well, not quite as harmless as a regular smoke bomb, Cherri apparently set her explosives up a little differently. When it landed, rather than merely leaking clouds of smoke, it burst into an impossibly dense black cloud that completely filled the street in front of Lute, blocking her view. Lute cursed, only pausing for a second to decide before charging forward. The street was still a straight shot, she wasn’t going to get lost but charging into the cloud meant she wouldn't see which way the next bomb was coming, but at the same time, Cherri wasn’t going to be able to see which angle Lute was coming from. Taking a gamble, Lute cut angled towards the left, hugging the side of the street as she charged blindly on. Lucky guess, based on a boom that rattled off to her right.

It only took a second or two to bolt through the black cloud, coming out blinking on the other side. She was over half way there. Cherri Bomb’s grin widened as she made a show of pulling out two bombs. The easy part was over, they were going to be coming faster and more accurately as the distance shrank. Good. Even these few seconds of activity had her blood pumping in a satisfactory way. A little growl of anticipation escaped Lute as she ran. The next bomb came fast but Lute was ready, slapping it out of the air hard enough for it to sail through the second story window of a nearby building. The distance shrank, Lute might not be the fastest of the Exorcists in flight but she could eat the distance in a straight dash. Cherri had apparently planned for that, cooking her next bomb preemptively before throwing it. Lute saw a glimpse of the rapidly shrinking fuse and knew there would be no dodging it. Thinking quickly, she dived for a discarded trashcan lid and rolled to get it infront of her. The blast was the closest and loudest yet, shrapnel shredding into her flimsy shield, but it did the job of blocking the bulk of the blast. 

Something definitely hit her that time. Lute shoved that thought to the back of her mind, a little bit of pain never stopped her. The harder part was containing the spike of anger that surged up in response, the immediate impulse to launch the trash can lid like a projectile in retaliation, strike back at the person that hurt her. No. That wasn’t the point of the exercise. She asked for this. She expected it to be dangerous. Through force of will, Lute stamped down her first response and tossed her broken shield off to the side before resuming her dash. A flicker of nervousness crossed Cherri’s face at the sight of how close Lute was getting, less than a hundred feet left as Lute barreled onward with single minded determination. She’d be on Cherri in seconds, whatever the bomber’s last move was, this was the time for it. Her moment of indecision turned into a manic smile as Cherri reached behind her, pulling some sinner hammerspace bullshit as when she pulled her hands out again, each was struggling to hold a cluster of three lit bombs with very short fuses. Ah, right. Anyone that works with explosives that much has to be a little insane. With a cackle, Cherri chuckled the cluster of six bombs forward without any care for accuracy. They sailed in wildly different directions, promising to fill the entire street with fire and fury. Impossible to dodge… Unless.

Snarling, Lute pushed her muscles into overdrive as rather than dodge to the side of back off, she bolted forward as fast as she could manage. Her muscles screamed in protest, her breathing hammering her lungs as she ran into, not away from the oncoming bombs. 

It worked. Barely. 

A series of explosions went off as the bombs sailed behind her, a wave of destruction hitting her back, her rolling forward in an undignified sprawl that earned Lute a faceful of asphalt. Not one of her more gossamer landings, but she was neither dead nor critically injured. 

“... Well shit. Nice fuckin job,” came Cherri’s voice, surprisingly close. Lute blinked, rolling over and sitting up. Much to her surprise, she found that her last maneuver actually landed her just past where Cherri was standing. She wasn’t sure whether she was more impressed with her victory or with just how confident Cherri Bomb was about standing near her own explosions. Still, a successful run was a successful run. “Mighta got a biiiit carried away there in the end. Caught up in the moment and all. Fuckin’ Aces though, ran the whole way with barely a scratch on ya.”

“Not quite.” Lute grunted, forcing herself to stand up. With a sigh, she looked down to a spot of gold tainting her vest. She probably should have worn something more suited for training but this was her uniform of choice, she was going to wear it. 

“Yup, there it is! Exactly what we fuckin’ said would happen!” Angel yelled, pointing out Lute’s injury as if it was something major. It was barely a scratch.

“It hit a rib, I’m fine.” Rolling her eyes, Lute grabbed the jagged piece of metal poking through her clothing and gave it an unceremonious yank. She even managed it without showing much more than a wince. A sharp spike of pain came from the wound but it was nothing she couldn’t ignore. The metal had only penetrated an inch or so and she was pretty confident nothing was broken. Merely a flesh wound. Ignoring the way the trio stared at her, Lute flicked the piece of metal off to the side, watching it bounce before she quietly turned and began making her way back down to the start of the course. “Now, let's try it again. Do try to change it up, training reflex is more important than pattern recognition. I want to get a few more rounds with you before we move on.”

Turning away was an excellent opportunity to hide the grimace of pain. It really was just a minor nick, she was being childish about it. No need to advertise her weakness. As she walked off, she caught a glimpse of the sinners in a broken window. They watched her with some concern but ultimately shrugged as Cherri stepped up to prepare for another round. Thankfully it seemed there would be no more arguing for now. 

The next few runs went a little smoother as Lute got into the rhythm of the exercise. Cherri was a creative bomber but there were only so many tricks that she could pull off without proper preparation. Her natural abilities allowed her to summon a nearly endless number of bombs, but it had limitations mostly in that she could only draw as many as she could physically hold and that they weren’t much more powerful than the average hand grenade. There were higher caliber explosives in her arsenal but she had to make them by hand and was reluctant to waste hours of work on a training exercise. Understandable. After a certain point, the payload of explosives became a little difficult to avoid. Better to stop them from exploding in the first place. Still, in the end it made for a good warm up and Lute only got a handful of scratches and burns. This shirt was unfortunately going to be rather destroyed by the end of the day, price of progress. Though she was determined to maintain a proper appearance, she compromised and removed her tie, rolling it up and stowing it in her pocket. The Princess had picked that out, it would be a shame to destroy it.

Eventually, Cherri was feeling fatigued and Lute was making the dash both too quickly and too cleanly. Good time to change things up. Though he was a bit more cautious about the whole affair, Angel agreed to tag Cherri out.

“Last chance ta back out, no shame in admitting your crazy has limits,” Angel said as he clicked the drum of his tommy gun into place.

“Not when I’m finally working up a sweat,” Lute chuckled. Training wasn’t necessarily something that one did for fun but she was having a fairly good time so far.

“Well, tell me how ya want ta do this. All six at once or something slightly less fucked up?”

“Of course not all at once.” Lute waved off the idea. That was absurd. Starting with six barrels blasting bullets at her would be insane. “Obviously we just start off with one gun and then work up to all six at once. It's better if the challenge gets progressively harder rather than easier.”

Angeldust just stared at her but sighed as he clicked the safety off. In the background, Lute heard a light groan as a very annoyed Cherri handed some bills over to an incredibly smug Husk. That man sure liked his little bets and tended to come out on top more often than not. To his credit, he knew to bet on Lute, rather than against her… Though she was noticing a trend where most of the time someone begrudgingly handed him money after she did something, it was usually something that wound up with Lute getting lectured. Surely had to be a coincidence. A series of coincidences. No matter. Lute took her spot down range, ready for the next run. The path between her and Angel was actually less straightforward than it was before, Cherri’s bombs had filled the street with more debris rather than cleared it. Good places to take cover if she needed it.

Taking Angel’s mark, Lute began her sprint. Angel Dust had seemed a bit hesitant to start but thankfully he seemed to have no intention of making it easy for Lute to cross the distance between them. While one gun seemed less dangerous than four, it came with the benefit of accuracy rather than his usual spray and pray tactics. Angel was a fairly good shot, barely giving Lute time to think before he unleashed a burst of bullets that would have been dangerously close to shredding her boots if she had been even a step slower. Quick bursts of shots followed, harrying her and keeping her from being able to make a quick and straight dash.

Lute did her best to keep track of the number of shots, that particular type of gun obviously had a rather large drum but that didn’t mean its capacity was infinite. Anyone  else might have struggled picking apart a distinct number of rounds from the occasional bursts of bullet fire but Lute had always been sensitive to that kind of detail. Dodging bombs had mostly been about quick thinking and reaction time, but dodging bullets like this leaned more towards thought and planning. Taking calculated risks as she dashed from cover to cover, judging which she could get to the fastest and which might actually protect her from a hail of bullets. Some materials were decidedly less durable, Which Lute learned the hard way when she tried to dive behind a rusted out dumpster. A bullet ripped clean through the corroded metal close enough to ping off her metal arm. Danger close. Rolling away from the flimsy shelter, Lute was greeted with an marvellous sight, Angel ejecting the drum of the tommy gun. Eager to make up the distance, Lute threw caution to the wind and made a direct dash to take advantage of the time it would take for him to reload. A mistake unfortunately.

While Lute had requested him start with using only one gun, there had been no mention of forbidding the spider from making use of multiple arms. It was actually rather impressive how much faster a person can reload a gun when they have an extra set of arms. Lute had expected an opening of at least three to five seconds, not two. Bullets rained again before she had a chance to get to cover and Lute was barely able to pull her metal arm up to block her face as several bounced off it, showering sparks dangerously close to her eyes. Fuck. Angel bore a rather wide grin at that, deliberately giving her a brief pause to recover from a very nearly fatal mistake. It was galling, but she had to admit she’d miscalculated. Her memory of her last encounter with Angel Dust had been a very one sided affair, even when his gun was loaded with angelic bullets she’d still been too fast for him to deal with when on the wing and he had absolutely no way to handle melee. Those memories made her underestimate him and she’d very nearly taken a bullet to the face for it. Making an effort to accept her mistake with dignity, she reset herself back about 20 meters, which seemed an acceptable price for her mistake.

Having learned her lesson about underestimating her opponent, the rest of the run proceeded rather smoothly with Lute sliding across the finish line without any more close calls. The next few runs went fairly well, though the pace was much slower. One hundred meters wasn’t a huge distance to sprint and if Lute had been running in a straight line she probably could have managed it in ten or twelve seconds. Dodging active hazards made it take quite a bit longer. She averaged about twenty seconds or so against Cherri, but the constant ducking into cover required against Angel pushed that time between thirty seconds to a minute. Also, Angel was insistent on taking brief breaks between each run. Lute disliked the slowed momentum but she conceded. Especially after they worked up to using four guns at once, the guns occasionally needed some time to cool down to prevent damage and the recoil was rough on Angel’s arms. She didn’t want him to get hurt or damage his equipment, so she agreed to wait despite her impatience. She had been doing fairly well up to this point, that first incident aside. Angel had to sacrifice accuracy as the number of barrels increased but the volume of bullets coming at different angles kept the danger on. The last dash had gone well and she was eager to move up to all six guns after one or two more tries.

Her impatience would prove to be her downfall, as usual.

Everything had gone well, despite the veritable storm of bullets coming her way, Lute was looking at making record time. Leaping from the old wreck of a car, she ripped the door off its hinges and brought it up to absorb a shock of bullet fire. She was so close, only another 15 meters. Shots pounded against the metal in a burst before her opening presented herself. She threw the door to the side, having made a personal rule to not rely on any kind of improvised shield for more than a few seconds. The last stretch was before her. Over eager, she began moving as fast as she could muster. 10 meters. Angel reset his guns, ready for a final round. She wasn’t completely stupid, keeping track of where the barrels were pointed and guessing where the shots would land. Cutting right, a line of bullets trailed behind her. 5 meters. She was practically done, just a few more steps and-

A surprisingly powerful force impacted her shoulder, halting her momentum and sending her spinning. Dimly, she was aware of a lot of shouting and cursing but it was hard to focus on that as Lute came to a very important revelation. Getting shot fucking hurt. A strange, sharp pressure appeared in her shoulder, followed by a very intense burning. It was far from the worst form of pain that she’d ever experienced but the effect was disorienting and it took her a few seconds to recover her wits. By the time that she had fully registered the injury, Angel and the others had rushed over to crowd around where she was flopped on the asphalt and hissing with pain.

“Fuckin’ fuck, shit. Sorry Lute!” Angel called out, having dropped his guns to rush over. He wore a guilty expression, which Lute didn't understand. She had told them that the possibility of getting hurt was part of the exercise. “Ah fuck, that looks pretty bad.”

“Does it? Fuckin' hard to tell when everything glows. Distracting as shit.” Very helpful commentary Cherri, incredible.

“Calm down, she's not dead. Not like you two haven't seen someone get shot before. Let me take a look.” Husk, ever the voice of reason, grunted as he knelt beside Lute. She might've agreed with him if she wasn't focused on avoiding doing anything dramatic… like screaming. “Can you sit up?”

Nodding she slowly forced herself into a sitting position with Husk’s help. While she put her attention towards getting her breathing under control, he looked over the wound and patted her back. It hurt, but not terribly so. With some prompting, she was made to move her arm around. Her body was not at all shy about voicing its displeasure at the act but it reluctantly complied with her demands. Up and down, left and right. Extremely, profoundly painful but functional which is what mattered. She could practically feel the small chunk of metal intruding on her flesh, pressing painfully against torn muscles. 

“Hmm, everything still works. Lots of blood but no broken bones. No exit wound. About the best case scenario for taking a bullet. Half an inch higher and it would have shattered your clavicle. Still pretty bad though, let's see if we can wrap something around it. Cherri, go ahead and call Charlie,” Husk said as he started looking around for some scrap of fabric to make into an improvised bandage.

“No! Absolutely not-” Lute yelled and grabbed Husk’s arm to prevent him from walking off. The confused stares she got made her face flush with embarrassment for the slip up. Coughing awkwardly, Lute attempted to regain her composure from her knee jerk reaction. “There is no need to call the Princess or Vaggie or anyone for that matter. This is a minor wound at best, I’m absolutely fine, ” she lied, like a liar. A bad one.

“A minor fuckin- Ya got shot!” Angel threw up his hands in exasperation, he was being insufferably dramatic about this whole affair.

“... You didn’t tell them about this little exercise, did you?” Husk, as usual, hit the nail on the head. She nodded guiltily. Husk groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Annnd that's why you told me not to bring Niff. She can’t be trusted to keep a secret if things didn’t go to plan. Goddamnit Lute.”

“... That and several other reasons, but mostly that is correct,” Lute mumbled. Truth be told, Lute just didn’t like Niffty. A bit of a double standard as the Princess had mostly forgiven her for Dazzle and in that vein, Lute probably should try to forgive Niffty for killing Adam. Far easier said than done. Partly, she didn’t want to face what having that conversation would mean and she wasn’t exactly sure if Niffty would be cognizant enough to understand any of it. She probably wasn’t being fair but she didn’t particularly want to be fair. Better to just ignore it… Also, she didn’t exactly trust Niffty to have any form of self control in such a dangerous exercise. 

“Awww, I think we mighta corrupted Lute into a regular rule breaker. All scared of gettin’ in trouble with tha girls. Afraid of a little earbashin’, are we?” Cherri teased, earning a truly murderous glare from Lute. Cherri laughed it off but still backed up a step to be out of Lute’s immediate reach.

“Yeah, don’t care. We gotta get that bullet out and get this patched up. Now, if you’ll stop being a baby, I’m gonna find something to- Lute, what the FUCK!?” Husk yelled as Lute quickly rammed one of her metal claws into the bullet wound.

Husk had made a very good point, the bullet needed to come out. Its presence was painful and probably bad for her long term health, but they didn’t need to call the Princess to deal with it. That would involve a long lecture and either her coming all the way out into the dangerous streets of the Doomsday District to help or worse forcing Lute to get into a car to get her back to the hotel. Vaggie would freak out as well, probably insist on coming along just to yell at Lute. Lute getting hurt in some poorly conceived training exercise. They’d be disappointed in her, probably insist on things like bedrest or something stupid like that. If Lute wasn’t working, then she wasn’t useful. If she wasn’t useful, then-

A ragged scream of agony broke through her thoughts and Lute shoved the claw deeper into her own flesh. Angelic steel cleaved through flesh easily enough but she was working blind and every inch felt like a mile. All she needed to do was find the bullet and pull it out. The sensation was unfortunately familiar, a certain overlord having rammed his thumb into one of her open wounds not so long ago. Thankfully, Lute was a little less sadistic with her own flesh, working with a purpose rather than just to bring pain. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she pushed deeper and deeper until finally she met resistance that she was mostly sure wasn’t bone. An experimental push sent a wave of electric misery through her body but proved that the offending object was mobile and therefore not attached to her. As with most of Lute’s own plans, this one was poorly conceived as extraction was far worse than entry. The oddly shaped chunk of metal took a lot of persuasion to move and the feeling of it pulling against her torn flesh was nearly enough to make her vomit. Still, she persisted, even having to work her thumb into the wound a bit to expedite the removal process. It resisted her still and she had to both dig in and pull at the same time. The pain was immense. She’d had worse. She’d had worse. She’d had worse- With a final cry of victory and agony, she yanked the small chunk of metal from her shoulder and held it up triumphantly.

Shaking and panting, Lute became aware of her surroundings again. She’d definitely opened up the wound a bit more but now that there wasn’t a chunk of metal in there she felt remarkably better. Honestly, it wasn’t nearly as bad as when Niffty stabbed her in the leg and she’d kept fighting for a while after that wound. A sigh of relief escaped her as she flicked away the spent bullet, watching as it left little glowing spots on the pavement wherever it bounced. There, situation resolved. Bullet removed, no need to call the Princess. All was well.

Her companions were staring at her in open mouthed horror. Seriously, Look hadn’t seen expressions like that since the angels were gawking at her during the last trial… It might have something to do with how they were lightly splattered with flecks of golden blood that had sprayed out of her wound on final extraction. Not like she asked them to crowd in around her.

“You are… so much more mentally ill than I assumed. I am begging you. Find a therapist.” Husk recovered first, shaking his head as he looked down at several of the golden stains on his shirt. “I just had this thing cleaned, I should go back to being fucking shirtless around you psychopaths.

“Every time I think I’m starting to understand ya, ya go an’ do somethin even more fucked up. Ugh, hold on, think I’m gonna go waste my breakfast.” Shuddering, Angel covered his mouth as he quickly trotted off. Sure enough, the spider ended up emptying his stomach into the very dumpster Lute had tried to use as cover earlier.

“Kinda metal, honestly,” Cherri said, reaching over to pick up the spent bullet. She wiped it off on her pants a bit, leaving a glowing stain that didn’t particularly seem to bother her as she pulled it up to eye level. “Gotta admit, takes some balls to do that shit. Mind if I keep this?” she asked, bouncing her new souvenir in her hand. Lute shrugged… and regretted that but she kept a brave face about it. 

“You’re that damn desperate, huh?” Husk sighed.

“Not desperate, just practical. Now, hand me your flask.” Lute demanded, Husk just rolled his eyes and handed it over. She recalled the smell of alcohol from all the times the princess cleaned her wounds, so that meant that alcohol was somehow important to the process of recovery. As predicted, a quick sniff proved that Husk was packing something rather high proof. Applying a few splashes to the wound was fucking abysmal but Husk didn’t protest the action so she must have guessed right about the importance. He did, however, look down mournfully at the wasted alcohol when she handed the flask back to him. That done, Lute forced herself to stand up. This shirt was already well past saving even via magical means; so she sacrificed one of the sleeves and ripped it into strips. Half the fabric was roughly shoved over the wound to soak up the blood and the other hand was wrapped around her shoulder to hold the improvised sponge in place. There. All better. This first aid stuff was easy. 

“There, drama resolved. We can get back to training now.”

“Fuck me runnin’, I ain’t goin back ta shootin’ ya after that!” Angel yelled, wiping his mouth. 

“I learned a valuable lesson and will be more careful,” Lute tried, but Angel wasn’t having it.

“Nuh-uh. Line in the fuckin’ sand. No more guns. I played along an’ shit but you coulda fuckin’ died and you don’t get do-overs.” Angel Dust was surprisingly firm, crossing both sets of arms as he glared down at her.

“Fine, fine!” Lute hissed, she could have argued but some tiny part of her said that Angel Dust being unwilling to continue shooting her was probably, technically a good thing. “I have other options- Oh, come on!” Growling, Lute glared at Cherri bomb who was giving Lute a face that implied that she also wasn’t comfortable continuing.

“Yeeeah, I mean, everything went okay but you’re already pretty banged up. Probably about time to call it a day.” Cherri said despite Lute’s intensifying glare.

“We’ve barely started!”

“Look, If you’re tryin’ ta prove you’re still tough without tha angelic magic, then congrats, we all believe ya. Ya can stop anytime.” Angel refused to budge on the topic.

“I am not trying to prove anything . I know I’m weaker, that's why I need to train to make up for it. This is about the safest way for me to do that!”

“Alright, alright! Fuck. Enough yelling.” Stepping in, Husk pushed Lute and Angel apart. “Look, let's compromise? This training stuff is important to Lute but you got a good reason to want to take a break from it, Legs. We can settle this with a little wager.”

“A… wager?” Lute asked, glancing from Husk to Angel and Cherri. They also seemed confused, but they did have a habit of going along with all these little bets Husk made. 

“Simple, we still haven’t gone through any rounds with me. My cards are magic but there is less margin for fuck up than bombs or bullets. My deck vs Lute. If she can get to me without getting hit and take my hat, then we go back to doing things her way. If not, then we either do something safer or call it a day. Sounds fair?” Husk suggested, pulling out his deck of blessed cards and fanning them out in dramatic fashion. Lute frowned, considering the deal. She had wanted to go a few rounds with Husk but something was better than nothing. She got some practice at least and she had done alright dodging his cards before, but that had been when she was on the wing… She could probably pull that off again.

“... Fine. Acceptable compromise.” Lute winced a bit as she held her hand out to shake on the wager, Husk grinned and shook but his expression was of a man who had already won. Insufferable gambler, she’d make him eat those words.

A brief discussion followed to set additional terms. Husk was limited to just the one deck and for now he would not be using his wings. Lute would not be running as far as he had a much more limited range for accuracy with his cards. Angel and Cherri found an out of the way place to sit and watch while Lute and Husk got ready. Rather than continue to use the street, they found a wide intersection where Husk would stand in the middle while Lute approached. It seemed deceptively easy, all she had to do was hat off his head. He’d even promised to not use his poker chips. Lute paced at the far edge of the intersection, rubbing at her shoulder. It still hurt immensely but had mostly settled into a kind of agonized numbness. Her arm still worked, though the flashes of pain were probably going to cut into her mobility and reaction time. The blood loss was probably a non-issue. Husk seemed very confident despite the set up, calmly shuffling cards in his deck. He should be more concerned. The distance was less than half the other runs, Lute had more space to maneuver, and he was limited by the amount of cards in his deck.

After an annoyingly long wait, Husk gave the go ahead. The others had started off strong, opening up with a thrown bomb or a volley of bullets, but Husk just gave a simple wave to urge her onward. Lute held for a moment, eyeing him suspiciously. There was no way this was a trap, he hadn’t had time to set anything up and she had a fairly good understanding of his abilities. She shook her head and set her jaw, she was overthinking again. Husk was just acting confident to throw her off.  Lute stepped forward, intent to sprint ahead and end this quickly but the moment her foot hit the ground she had to pull it back as a playing card cleaved into the ground right where her foot had been. She’d barely seen Husk move, he was smirking at her while in the middle of shuffling his cards, having somehow flicked a card out with pinpoint accuracy mid shuffle. The man had been an overlord once and was not to be taken lightly.

Lute eyed the card cautiously then moved to sprint in the other direction, but a card landed in front of her again, close enough to nearly scratch her boot. Was he- Ah. Lute understood it now. Rather than move to sprint, Lute slowly stepped forward. No card landed. He wasn’t just going to let her rush through this, he was controlling the pace of this encounter. Lute moved forward, keeping eye contact with Husk. He didn’t allow her a straight walk to him, flicking cards her way now and again to make her change direction, leading her on a circuitous path around the intersection. Most of his attacks weren’t really attacks at all, just cards thrown to adjust her walking path, very few were thrown directly at her. That seemed a waste, Husk had a limited number of cards but in short order he wasted half the deck. Lute was keeping careful track of how many cards had been thrown and so far he hadn’t made an effort to retrieve any either. There had to be a plan but Lute wasn’t seeing the shape of it.

Taking a risk, she began moving faster. Husk kept her from being able to make direct forward progress, keeping her moving around a wide arc as she continued dodging cards. He was being more direct now, more cards getting thrown at her rather than in front of her, making her have to hop to the side or jerk out of the way. Husk’s throws were fast and deadly accurate, but the metallic edges made them highly visible in the bright light of day. The whole event wasn’t as pulse pounding as her earlier runs due to the slow pace but it kept her on her toes nonetheless. A card flashed right by her head as she slid to a quick stop just in the nick of time, turning and launching off in the opposite direction. That made forty cards so far. There was only a handful left and Lute was a mere twenty feet from Husk.

Deciding that aggression was the path to progress, Lute dropped to a quick crouch and then sprang up into a fast dash directly towards Husk. He’d just thrown a card so it would take him a second to get another ready to throw. She was on him in half that time, hand stretched forth to grab his hat and… he fucking moved! With casual effort, Husk sidestepped Lute, making her desperate grab turn into a clumsy tumble. 

“Hey!” Lute shouted, pulling herself off the ground and pointing an accusing finger at him. “We didn’t agree you could dodge!”

“Didn’t say I couldn’t , did we?” Smug fucking cat. Angel and Cherri had a laugh at Lute’s expense while she silently fumed. She should have known better, Sinners and their little loopholes.

“Fine, this was getting too easy anyway.” Lute jumped forward again, Husk wasn’t nearly so smooth now that she was expecting him to dodge but he still kept out of her reach. Another flash of a card forced Lute to back off and give him some space, but that was a rapidly diminishing resource. Husk backed off and so the chase began. Not quite as intense as their flight around the hotel, but rather familiar. Picking up the pace, Husk was dodging his way around the intersection with Lute fast on his heels, ducking and weaving around the last of his playing cards. An interesting dance and surprisingly thrilling chase. Her target was so close, yet just out of reach every time she extended her hand. Frustrating yet exciting. Card after card zipped by, near misses every time. 

Husk was good, very good… but this time, Lute had a plan for him. Being on the aggressive, with Husk pulling away from her she was able to subtly maneuver him. Pressing him towards one corner of the intersection, limiting his space to move. Finally, with one particularly aggressive looking move, she tricked Husk into throwing a card that she ducked easily. A grin cracked over Lute’s face as she watched the card stick into the nearby wall. His final card by her count. Husk’s eyes widened slightly when he realized there were no more waiting cards in his hands. Ah, that was the problem with relying on projectiles, eventually you run out. With confidence, Lute dropped her defensive posture and strolled casually towards Husk, who was well backed into a corner and had nowhere to run.

“This was… surprisingly engaging, but I think we can do better next time.” Lute said, triumphant as she stepped up to Husk and reached towards that stupid hat of his… only to draw her hand back with a hiss as something cut across her palm.

“And that’s game.” Chuckling, Husk drew back his hand, revealing a pair of cards sat between his fingers. That … that was impossible. Had he been keeping those in his sleeve? The brim of his hat? The location hardly mattered, she knew Husk could draw cards from practically anywhere in a pinch, the issue at hand was the number of cards.

“... You cheated.” Lute said, staring at the thin golden cut on her palm. Barely a papercut, but they had said even a small cut would count. She ran the numbers in her head again. Lute didn’t really like or understand the rules of card games, she was more for dice games like the game of Ur; regardless, she knew how the average deck of playing cards was set up. Four suits of ten cards with three face cards. Thirteen times four was fifty two. Lute had counted fifty two cards exactly, she was sure of it. 

“Did not. Perfectly fair game.”

“You said you were only using one deck! That’s two too many cards!”

“I only used one deck. Jokers wild,” Husk explained, flipping the cards around to show a pair of artistically depicted jesters in mocking poses. The man looked utterly pleased with himself. Lute just stared at the cards and blinked several times.

“... Am I supposed to know what that means? Is that some magic phrase that lets you cheat at the game?” She asked, genuinely confused.

“What? No! That just means the jokers are included in the deck, perfectly legal.” Husk said, looking exasperated that he had to explain himself at all. The man had probably been hoping for a cool one liner. Well, those only worked if everyone got the reference, which Lute distinctly didn't.

“Never heard of it before now,” Lute waved dismissively.

“It's a pretty common phrase. What, ya never played poker?” Angel asked, to which Lute reluctantly shook her head. “... Seriously? Rummy? Euchre? Pitch? Fuckin Canasta?” More card games were named and Lute continued to shake her head. She's heard of the names plenty but actually played? Not a bit. Husk was looking more and more mortified by her lack of experience with the games that were his passion.

“Look, I don't really play these kinds of games. I… struggle with remembering the rules, better to just not play rather than look the fool.” Equally annoyed and embarrassed at this point, Lute tried to focus on the cut on her hand. Damn it, she'd gotten so close just to be played like a fool… oh, that's what he meant by using the Joker cards last. Fool, jester, joker. That was actually somewhat clever, not that she'd give him the satisfaction of acknowledging it.

“... Holy shit, is that why you never join game night? I just thought you were boring!” Cherri chimed in, making Lute wither. Would that her dignity recovered as quickly as her wounds did.

“Enough! Move on,” Lute snapped, but not quickly enough for the spectators to have a last laugh at her expense. “Husk won the wager through his deceptive ways, so no more dangerous live fire training today. Happy?” At her proclamation the sinners all threw their hands up in mock celebration. Asses, the lot of them. 

“Great, can we go back to that hotel now? Way overdue for lunch and I don't keep an ass this nice by starvin’ myself.” Angel Dust asked, but Lute was already walking off, not towards the hotel but rather towards one of the more dilapidated buildings in the area. The type no one would miss.

“Not just yet, I agreed to call an end to the dangerous training. I still have some things to work on. It will not take long, maybe another ten to fifteen minutes,” Lute explained, eying up the wreck of a building in front of her. If anyone was squatting in there, they likely would have long since spoken up with all the explosions and gunshots. If she was right, all the noise they had been making was a similar enough simulation of combat that most lurkers would have fled the area. Satisfied, she held her hand out to the side and a heartbeat later the feather light weight of the guitar settled into her hand. While she had gotten into the habit of playing on the regular, she hadn’t practiced with it as a weapon since her banishment. That desperately needed to be rectified. While she wasn’t fully aware of all the innate abilities of the relic, she knew it had a lot more uses than merely being a common axe.

“Oh fuck the Hell no! We ain’t sparring with that fucking thing. Hard fucking pass.” Husk flapped his wings to get several feet away from the mere presence of the holy relic. He’d gotten little more than a scratch the last time he went head to head with Lute, but she would argue that a light scratch from this weapon was worse than a direct stab from a lesser one. His apprehension was understandable.

“Relax. This part is just for me. I need to take the time to familiarize myself further with this weapon and acclimate to using its basic abilities. None of you need be involved other than to watch if something goes wrong.” Casually, Lute flipped the guitar in the air as it shifted to its axe form, catching it with only a very slight wince as the weight settled on her injured arm. She could ignore that for a little longer.

“This sounds… suspiciously like something ya could do by yourself.” Angel said, leaning forward with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeeeah, not really any reason for us to hang around if we ain’t helpin’,” Cherri added on, playfully nudging Angel. Those two acted like such children when next to each other. “Unless big scary Lute is worried about hangin’ out in Doomsday by herself? Hmmm?” 

Lute didn’t turn back to acknowledge the childish prodding but her silence was as much of an answer as she wanted to give. Their incessant giggling was a sign they knew the actual answer. Husk, asshole that he was, chuckled a bit as he settled alongside the other two spectators.

“Hmm, yeah, Legs here is looking like he’s about to split unless you actually say it.”

“... You three are assholes.” Grumbling under her breath, Lute turned back to look at the giggling shithead. They were all giving her expectant looks, half seated on their pile of rubble but looking ready to hop up and walk off. They were really going to force her on this? She was going to remember this. One day vengeance would be hers but for now there was nothing to be done. Lute groaned, face flushed with embarrassment at what she was about to admit. “ Fine. I would be considerably more… at ease if you three stayed and didn’t abandon me in the middle of Pentagram City. If you could all stick around for a few minutes then I would… appreciate it very much.” The admission felt like pulling teeth, but having a few people watching her back in this part of the city did make her feel comfortable. She wasn’t scared to be on her own or anything, just concerned about being attacked. It was a very regular and practical line of thinking.

“Hah! She actually fuckin’ said it!” Cherri seemed about ready to piss herself laughing. Lute should have stabbed her when she had the chance.

“Careful Grumpy, keep talkin’ like that and we might start thinkin’ ya actually like us or somethin’... but if you’re so worried, than I guessss we can hang for justa bit longer.” Stupid, dumb, teasing twink spider.

“Alright, alright. Enough you two, Lute can only handle one or two emotions at a time, so let's just sit back and let her do her thing,” Husk laughed, which did nothing to stop the others from laughing even a little.

Well, at least she had a great method to let off some steam for once. Maybe they’d laugh a little less when they remembered what Lute could really do. Trying her best to not let her own grumbling and cursing get in the way of her exercise, Lute settled into a combat stance. Doing her best to clear her mind, Lute began recalling her training with the weapon. The axe was not usually her first pick of weapon, especially not one so large, but she had practiced with such weapons before. The divine relic in her hands was comfortable and light in her hands, which was a blessing and a curse. Many of the practice moves and forms related to using an axe relied on adjusting to the dense weight of the axe head and learning how to manipulate that and use the momentum to flow from strike to strike. This axe technically had the proper weight an axe of its design should have but in her hands it was made magically weightless, all those forms would work, there was just a mental disconnect in the feeling of the motion due to the magically altered weight.

Lute began to slowly move through the various forms she knew, moving from blocks to strikes, trying to build momentum from one swing to the next. There was a distinct difference in how she was using the weapon vs how Adam had used it. For all of Adam’s virtues, he didn’t put a lot of time into practice, at least not while she had known him. Not that she was being critical of the man or anything, but he did kind of use the axe more like a sledgehammer than a finely crafted holy relic. Lute, on the other hand, made a point to match her innate aggression with skill. Lute was strong by the standards of an Exorcist but rather insignificant in the grand scheme of things. If she wanted to be better and fight the greater dangers that might one day threaten Miss Morningstar and Vaggie, then Lute needed to continue to grow in both power and skill. Still, the weapon felt just a bit off in her hands, none of the forms felt right. Too loose, too light. Just as Lute was considering taking a break to readjust, the guitar in her hands seemed to hum faintly as if it sensed her frustration and the weight suddenly changed. She faltered but quickly adjusted. The axe was inexplicably heavier now, still lighter than an axe of its size should be but its weight felt far more natural. A solid heft to the handle with a denseness towards the wide axe head. Lute blinked, confused at the change… but then it occurred to her that her will caused the axe to change between its two main states, so if she could do that… Why not will it to be slightly heavier? It was magical afterall.

Deciding to roll with it, Lute continued through her forms and found them vastly more comfortable. The axe practically sang in her hands as she began to spin, slice, and chop through the air at increasing speed. Lute had been designed to fight and use weapons and few times had that felt more true than now. The world fell away as she moved from form to form. Each cut through the air left golden trails of light, casting flashes of radiance against the many windows and broken glass around her in a mesmerizing display. Even the few times she aimed a slash a little too low or chopped down a little too far, the axe seemed to cut into the very concrete at her feet without any noticeable resistance. The axe felt good, almost happy to be held in her hands when she used it like this.

Feeling warmed up and confident, Lute reached deep within herself and touched at that thin line of connection that the relic had forged to her soul. Lute might not be developing magic in the way that Vaggie was, but the relic had power that could be fueled by the strength of her divine soul. Using it only a handful of times had nearly drained her dry during the last battle. If she was going to use this weapon to its full potential, she needed to familiarize herself with this aspect of the weapon. Willing energy from her core into the weapon, its golden glow magnified as she cut it through the air. Energy rushed through it, multiplying by an order of magnitude until an arc of golden light sailed through the air and cleaved into the surface of the building. A single slice shattered glass, brick, concrete and metal as it left a distinct gash across the surface of the building. Quickly followed by another. And another. And another.

Lute let off the glowing slashes one after the other, gritting her teeth as each one seemed to carve a chunk out of her soul in the same way it carved into the building. The sensation wasn’t painful but draining. Even after only a handful of slashes, she could feel her body start to flag slightly. She was starting to feel like she’d run a marathon rather than spending the morning doing light exercise. Regardless, she pushed on. She needed to get better at this. This was the weapon that would let her punch above her weight class, that might’ve let her beat Alastor if only she’d been a bit smarter about using it. She might not have been designed to use a weapon this potent, but it had accepted her, which had to mean that she could learn to use it effectively if she just pushed through it and tried harder.

Another slash, bigger than the rest, carved off a corner of the building. Lute paused only briefly to watch the massive chunk grind and slide off until it collapsed into the nearby street. That was good. Powerful… but it wasn’t enough, was it? Alastor could probably survive a hit like that. Vox as well. Would that even be enough to harm something like Zestiel? One of the Goetia? A Sin? No, not enough. God, Adam made this look so damn easy… Lute’s memories flickered back to the last Extermination, she’d seen the battle between Adam and the Radio Demon. It hadn’t started well for Adam but the First Man had really only needed one attack to break Alastor’s defenses and have the wounded deer running for his life. Lute did just make the guitar adjust its weight and she could will it to change form… What about size?

Raising the weapon up as she readied for the next attack, she focused on the image of the axe doubling in size in Adam’s hands and pushed that towards the relic. It seemed to recognize her intent but strangely resist it? She had the feeling that the act was possible for her to do, but there was some kind of block in the way. Frowning, Lute pushed harder, her will and soul flooding her intent towards the weapon with as much mental force as she could muster. She pushed against that blockage for several frustrating seconds until a strange feeling of reluctance flashed across her mind as the blockage broke. More like a damn breaking really, as energy surged through the connection like a rushing river.

All at once, the axe did what was commanded. It doubled in size in her hands… and its weight magnified to an incredible degree. The negligible, natural weight suddenly turned to incredible density, actually more than should be natural for a weapon of its increased size. Lute’s legs strained as she felt like she was holding up thousands of pounds of weight. More than the weight was the power. The blade’s edges glowed like the sun and the entire length vibrated with energy. Lute struggled to support the now massive weapon, legs shaking and injured shoulder screaming in protest but she held. God, it seemed it was all she could do to just hold the fucking weapon upright while it was like this.

“Uuuuh… Lute. You think that might be going a bit overboard?” Husk’s voice, behind her still. Misplaced concern. She couldn’t muster the attention to look back at him.

“It… Is… Fine,” Lute ground out, forcing her body back into proper stance. She could handle this. Everything was under control. She had successfully empowered the weapon, all she had to do was use it. A simple downward chop. Easy. Adam made it look easy. It should be easy. 

It took quite a bit more strain than she would like, but she tensed her muscles despite the pain and tremendous weight. She was in control, she could do this. Once she did, she would have a better feel for doing this again in the future. It would get easier. She would be strong enough. If she said that enough, it might be true. Taking a deep breath, Lute gave a roar of effort as she heaved the weapon forward. It felt like she was pushing against the weight of a building but inch by inch she forced the blade forward until at long last, blessed gravity took over as the blade reached its peak and began to fall forward. With that motion, the flooding energy from her bottomed out as the axe drank greedily of all the power she could give it and more .

The radiant blade came down like a falling meteor, burning the very air from its path before it even hit the ground. Surging divinity burned around it so intensely that several inches of concrete seemed to simply vaporize into dust as it came down. The earth shook and all went white as the blade cleaved through the building, the ground beneath it and the air itself. Divine flames erupted in a wave, reducing all they touched to ash and cinders until naught was left behind but a great smoking crater where there had once been a building. It seemed as if the hand of God had personally reached down and crushed the point of impact with their finger. The axe itself was embedded about half a foot into the ground, having accidentally slipped from Lute’s fingers when the force of impact had actually thrown her off her feet and left her lying on the ground yet again. Lethargically, Lute sat up and surveyed the damage that it had caused… now that was a blow that could kill an Overlord. Maybe even a Goetia. It made that column of light she made against Alastor’s trapped souls look like a firework. Feeling satisfied and confident, she looked over her shoulder to her spectators, who at some point had moved back a considerable distance and taken shelter behind a wrecked car. Probably for the best. They were once again rendered utterly speechless by her actions. Good. Served them right for poking fun at her.

Eager to retrieve her weapon and try again, Lute picked herself up and made to move towards the axe… and made it approximately two steps before a wave of weakness and lethargy crashed into her all at once. 

She stumbled, vision swimming and colors beginning to blur. She… she had felt this before. After overusing the axe against Alastor, this feeling of weakness had found her after she flooded the axe with energy. Unfortunately, this time seemed to be worse than mere exhaustion. Her limbs felt as if they’d become lead. Her mind felt like broken chunks sloshing around in a soup, clashing together yet not able to form coherent thought. She was… hollow. Empty. Her soul. A burning flame splashed with freezing water. It flickered weakly, trying to keep her running on fumes but that was a losing battle. That growing chill began to spread from her core as her vision blurred further, the world turning to nonsense shapes and distant sounds. Her legs, uncoordinated and heavy, tripped and sent her face forward with a dull thud.

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t really think. Aware still but fading. A familiar flicker in the back of her mind, that sensation of reluctance from before morphed into regret and fear. Was that her fear or something else? Did it matter? Thoughts and feelings began grinding to a halt as her consciousness began to dim. Her eyes were open but she saw little. Movement maybe? There were sounds, but they didn’t make sense to her ears. Even the feeling of asphalt pressed against her face was starting to fade into a bitter numbness. Huh… at least like this, she didn’t hurt anymore. That was a nice final thought as the final lights clicked off in her mind, dropping her into darkness.

Chapter Text

It was rather rude of magic as a concept to be so difficult. False advertising in its purest form. It looked so damn easy. Charlie could throw multicolored fireworks with a flick of her wrist, Alastor had changed other people's clothes with a snap, and Lucifer could straight up warp reality on a whim. Hell, Vaggie had technically been doing it subconsciously for years… but doing it on purpose was proving to be a right bitch.

Glaring down at her palm with all the force she could muster, half-hoping she might frighten the magic into submission, Vaggie tried to will light to appear. There was a moment that she genuinely thought that the space above her palm brightened for a moment but that turned out to be Niffty adjusting the curtains to get at a particularly hard to reach smudge. The maid gave Vaggie a cheerful wave before she skittered away to either find a mess to clean up or make a mess to clean up. Frustrated, Vaggie dropped her hand and fell back into the couch with a groan.

“That's it, I officially give up. Magic is impossible.” 

“That's the third time you said that in the last hour,” Charlie teased, gently poking Vaggie in the rib and earning a very exasperated grunt in return. Charlie was right, as usual,Vaggie had no intention of actually giving up, but she was entitled to be a little dramatic on occasion. 

“I just don’t understand why it's so… Ugh, isn’t this supposed to be the basics? Shouldn’t there be books and theories on magic I can read rather than just having to figure it out on my own?” Ever since Vaggie had become cognizant of her latent ability for magic, she had been trying to devote at least an hour a day towards practicing it. Who could blame her, it was magic . Who wouldn’t want to learn magic? She’d watched other angels casually use it all her life and had seen countless ways it was reimagined by mortals in the shows she watched. The idea of having magic for herself was addicting and she was eager to learn… but her progress had been fairly stunted. So far she was still very much stuck in the realm of mere cantrips, the type of magic that was barely more impressive than Husk’s sleight of hand tricks. The problem was that Vaggie was a lot more used to learning new skills by studying written theory, and her magic lessons had thus far been entirely hands on, mostly involving mental exercises to help her imagine what was supposed to happen. 

“Oh, there definitely are. Many royal families have personal grimoires and there are whole libraries of various studies on the application of magic,” Charlie explained, smirking a bit when Vaggie perked up at the mention of magical libraries, which sounded like the coolest place to visit imaginable. Unfortunately, Charlie continued talking, “Buuut, it's generally agreed that new practitioners should learn several of the basic cantrips first so that their brains can, you know… adapt to doing magic. If you throw someone into the deep end of dense magical theory and they can’t even shoot a fireball, they’re pretty likely to try things they aren’t ready for and that’s why we only have nine circles in Pride, not ten.”

“... Are you serious?”

“No, obviously not,” Charlie giggled, waving off the idea. Vaggie squinted, unsure whether she believed that. “Still, there is also the uh… itty-bitty issue that if I bring you some textbooks on advanced magic theory theeeen I kinda become responsible if someone in the hotel gets sticky fingers and takes it. Could be bad news.”

“... I guess. Demons seem to take that pretty seriously, That whole trial against that weird imp was crazy.” Vaggie commented, they’d seen it on TV not long ago. Rollercoaster of emotions. Vaggie was still a little confused about why Satan had gotten away with claiming that he was the original ruler of Hell, but according to Charlie, her dad had been more interested in building their new rehab clinic than going to some random trial.

“Poor Prince Stolas. Only met him once but he seemed like a nice kid,” Charlie sighed, shaking her head as she casually glossed over the fact that the ‘kid’ in question was a grown ass man. Then again, Charlie was older than Vaggie… How old was Charlie? Vaggie wasn’t sure if she’d ever gotten a straight answer. “Still not sure how I feel about those imps having a whole business about killing humans but now really isn’t the time for politics. You can’t distract me with tangents forever.”

“Worth a shot.”

“Okay, so. Let's try and figure out where you’re getting stuck, then we can try focusing on that. I’m on board to help you with anything! I want to be the best girlfriend and best teacher I can possibly be.” Charlie, ever the optimist, flashed one of those goofy grins that Vaggie adored so much. Vaggie was rather frustrated with the whole affair, but it was hard to stay grumpy around Charlie.

“You’re a great teacher, Babe. I’m just getting frustrated because I’m usually… faster about picking up new skills and new ideas. It just feels like I'm not making any progress.” Vaggie didn't tend to run up against her own ‘angel issues’ as often as Lute did. Her purpose as a tactician was a little more conceptually open-ended than being a soldier. Tactical thinking and strategy applied fairly well to day-to-day life and a tactician could benefit from knowledge of diverse topics and skills. Most new skills just seemed to click into place fairly quickly. Magic, with its heavy reliance on imagination and abstract concepts, was resisting her attempts to master it.

“Believe it or not, you’re learning just fine. You’re getting a lot better about using spatial magic on purpose and you’re starting to get the hang of fire. Last week the best you could do was sparks, now you can actually make fire!”

“For about three seconds,” Vaggie griped, snapping her fingers to prove a point. Bright sparks flickered from between her fingers as if she’d struck a flint and steel, swirling together into a golf ball sized ball of floating flame. Interesting point about magic, it was apparently personalized to a degree as she had seen Charlie’s magic tended to come in shades of red and gold, but Vaggie’s flames burned a ghostly white… which didn’t really make a whole lot of sense. White was not exactly a common color for fire to take on, there were technically some chemical mixtures that could burn white but it wasn’t like Vaggie was spontaneously generating epsom salts or nitromethane. Even if she was, such flames were usually only visible in relative darkness, yet this little white flame seemed to defy conventional understanding of how the spectrum of visible light worked and was plainly visible in the well-lit room. As usual, around the same time these thoughts entered her mind, the little flame sputtered weakly and winked out of existence despite her intent to keep it going. “Poof.” 

“But! You can still do it. All you need is more practice. Same thing you told me when I was struggling with making portals, take your own advice for once,” Charlie said with a triumphant little smile. Damn, she had Vaggie with that one.

“Using other people’s words against them is supposed to be my thing, that’s cheating.” 

“Devil’s daughter, I don’t have to play fair,” Charlie finished off her irrefutable argument by sticking her tongue out with a quick ‘nyeh’. This woman would be queen of Hell one day and Vaggie couldn’t think of anyone more qualified for the job. “So, now that I have flawlessly defeated you in debate, what part of this are you actually struggling with?”

“I’m… Well, you said that if I can do fire, then light is the next logical step because light is just fire without heat but… that just doesn't make any sense? Light is created by reactions that make heat, they go hand-in-hand. Also, it’s just hard to imagine light without any kind of source, the same way my fire can’t burn without fuel.” Vaggie was doing her best to explain but she really wasn’t good with abstract concepts. She still wasn’t sure how she figured out spatial magic subconsciously, just that at some point she had started to just go along with the idea that she could retrieve and store items ‘behind her’ and that somehow worked? It didn’t make sense, but it did work and she had proof it worked therefore she could replicate it. At the same time, she had plenty of proof that Charlie’s understanding of magic worked, but that wasn’t the same as Vaggie believing that she was capable of it… All this magic stuff gave her a headache.

“Hmm.” Putting on her thinking face, Charlie held up a hand and with a quick snap she created a ball of bright red flame. The flame flickered and danced in her palm for a second before pulling in on itself into a perfect orb, shifting color to a ball of golden light. Charlie studied the ball in her hand for a moment, before looking at Vaggie with a frown, then looking back at the ball. “I’ve said this before but magic is mostly imagination and just figuring out ways to kind of think things into existence. Like, it's not just think it and bang it exists, it's fueled off the energy of your soul or whatever, but without thought to guide it magic is just raw energy. Everyone has a different mind and so everyone is going to have a different way to think about how their magic works. Like uh, er, what’s it called when you use a little rhyme or something to help memorize something?”

“A mnemonic device?”

“That thing, yeah! My memnonic devices-”

“Mnemonic. Ne-mon-ik.” Vaggie corrected.

“-My those things are actually pretty simple. I'm just kind of ‘yes, and’ing my magic. If I can do blank, then I can do blank. Like, if I can make a ball, I can bounce a ball.” To emphasize her point, Charlie wrapped her fingers around the ball of light, then tossed it towards the nearby wall. The little ball hit the wall and rebounded obediently towards Charlie’s palm, where she showed it off with a radiant smile. An overall simple action that stood in stark defiance of all modern understanding of how light worked. What Charlie had was a ball of light that had no source. It could not be held, thrown, or caught as it was intangible and had no mass. Above all, an intangible ball of pure light definitely didn't have the elasticity to bounce . If all these little impossibilities even occurred to Charlie, the princess seemed more than happy to simply ignore them in favor of her version of reality. “But that’s just me. That might not work for you, trouble with magic is you kinda have to figure it out yourself. I know some people that go by feel like me, some that chant gibberish in their head, some people that imagine little symbols for certain spells. At the end of the day, as long as you believe it works, then it should work. Tricky part is believing it.”

Vaggie’s eye twitched at the less than helpful explanation. There were no rules? No single, set way it was done? You have to believe in yourself? Horrifying. Nightmare scenario. Mission difficulty: Impossible. Vaggie let out a little strangled sound as she tried to process that. On the one hand, it was fully possible and the proof was a foot to her right making a game out of juggling magical balls of multicolored light. On the other hand, working without clearly defined instructions and going off fucking vibes? Vaggie would rather die. She would die. Magic deficiency would kill her or something equally absurd and dramatic. Vaggie couldn’t think of anything very absurd or dramatic because as she had said several times, imagination was not her strong suit. 

No, she could do this. She’d done it before, albeit by accident. At some point, she’d just gone along with the impulse to put something away by shoving it behind her and proceeded to never really think about it or question it again. Never even questioned it until Charlie pointed it out. It didn’t make sense, but it didn’t have to, she had proof it worked. All she needed to know was that she could store things in the vague conceptual space that was ‘behind her’ and then she could pull those things back out later with a thought. She’d even tested it several times to find out if there was a weight limit, which there didn’t seem to be but at the same time she couldn’t store anything that didn’t ‘fit’ behind her like a chair or a car… Then again, was that actually the case or some other self imposed limitation brought about by her own psyche? Ugh, she was getting stuck on the little details again. There had to be some way to think through this, but how did she just sit down and convince herself that something impossible was… possible?

She felt like she might have sat and pondered on that forever if not for a dark shadow passing over her, a shadow that she could swear smiled at her. Vaggie jolted, looking up to see the looming figure of Alastor standing over her.

“Magic lessons not quite as fun as you expected, my dear?” Alastor asked, tone absolutely dripping with mockery. He’d been something of a passive observer of Vaggie’s attempts at magic for a few days now, because apparently the man somehow had too much free time despite his religious broadcast schedule, mysterious personal errands, and hotel management. Free time he mostly used to hover around Vaggie or Lute and mock them, because of course he did. “Couldn’t help but notice our dearest Charlie putting on quite the colorful display while you sit there brooding like the world’s second grumpiest hen.”

“Second grumpiest?” Tilting her head in amusement, Charlie tossed the lights she was juggling behind her where they exploded all at once in a harmless firework display. Hard to tell if Charlie was practicing her own magic at this point or just showing off.

“The Lieutenant obviously takes the number one spot for poor attitude.” Alastor couldn’t resist a little chuckle at Lute’s expense, Vaggie just rolled her eye. Even when being mocked, she somehow still ended up playing second fiddle to Lute at times. “Now, jests aside, Magic not quite as easy as you thought?”

“Progress is… somewhat stagnant.” Vaggie mumbled, glaring up at the man and daring him to make some kind of comment that would give her the opening to stab him. She was sure she would get her chance one day, until then she was forced to tolerate him.

“That so? How very bizarre. I seem to recall it coming along quite naturally when I made my way down here. Well, benefits of the mortal mind I suppose, far more creative than the feather filled noggin that you angels seem to be working with.” Casually inspecting his claws, The Radio Demon slipped a smug smirk towards Vaggie. Meanwhile, Vaggie was doing the quick calculations on how she might go about fleeing the room after she kicked him in the dick. She was rather confident she could escape retaliation if she got airborne but then she’d probably have to spend days looking over her shoulders before the man figured out some form of appropriate revenge. Very tempting. Thankfully, before she could say or do anything that might lead to escalating violence, Charlie perked up.

“Actually, Alastor has a good point!” Charlie said, sitting up with excitement.

“About my head being filled with feathers?”

“No, I love your bird brain, it's very smart.” Leaning over, Charlie gave her a quick peck on the cheek, despite Vaggie’s attempt to brush her off, getting a giggle despite her mood. Charlie was too good at that. “I mean about him being a good sorcerer. Like, I'm honestly jealous about how good at magic he is. Maybe he could give you some tips, different perspectives, that kind of thing.” Ah, of course. Charlie would suggest working with that man right after buttering Vaggie up with kisses. Tricky devil. Still, just because Vaggie knew what Charlie was doing that didn’t make her anymore resistant to her girlfriend’s plans. 

“It is true that you’ll struggle to find a mortal sorcerer more skilled than I, my distinguished reputation wasn’t earned off fearmongering alone.” Always pleased to compliment himself, Alastor’s smile brightened as he flicked a wrist and made an array of glowing black and green runic symbols appear in the air around him. Nonsense to Vaggie’s eye but their presence gave off a strange and sickening feeling before they faded away. Vaggie shivered, unsure if she wanted to commit to learning Alastor’s methods too deeply… but perhaps she might be able to pick up something. Despite his boasting, he was the most skilled mortal magician she’d personally met, which was impressive even if he didn’t make the top ten most impressive magic users she’d known if you counted non-humans. Probably a thought she should keep to herself if she wanted his help.

“Well… if you’re willing to give me some tips, it probably wouldn’t hurt to listen. Not making any deals with you though,” Vaggie added with a bitter growl.

“Deals? Over simple advice? Why, my dear, I am simply offended at the very accusation. Do you truly think me so black hearted?” The man could look offended all he wanted, but Vaggie was far from convinced.

“Yes. You’ve forced both of us into deals already. You forced me to make a deal with you just to make a goddamn commercial and you’re still menacingly dangling that favor over Charlie’s head. Forgive me if I struggle to believe in your more charitable nature.”

“Oh, pish posh! My bargain with you was for not more than creating a further degree of separation between myself and those damnable picture boxes. That will be the first and last film I ever involve myself with. As for the bargain with our dearest benefactor, that was an exchange of highly valuable information at a critical moment. It is only natural that I expect a little favor in return and my dearest feathered friend you will do well to remember that I fulfilled my end of the bargain rather generously.” Alastor’s smile morphed into that very particular brand of menacing and smug that he preferred when he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was right… and to Vaggie’s chagrin, he was. She personally would not have withheld such information from Charlie at a critical moment, but she couldn’t deny that Alastor having that information and helping recruit the cannibal army were absolutely critical to the hotel surviving Extermination Day. Didn’t make Alastor any less of a bastard for finding ways to remind them and rub it in about once a week. Lacking any solid rebuttal, Vaggie just settled for her usual move of crossing her arms and glaring at the man, but that unfortunately did little more than amuse him at this point. Thankfully, rather than belabor the point, when he saw that Vaggie had no counter argument, he seemed pleased as punch to move on. “Now, while you have once again proven to be a certifiable grump, It may surprise you that I am actually rather pleased to invest in things that benefit Charlie. As her trusted mentor, her success is my success. You not being abysmal at magic would be rather beneficial to her in the long run, seeing as the pair of you are rather joined at the hip for better or worse, thus I am more than willing to lend a bit of advice. Advice is free but proper training to reflect my unparalleled skill? That would require some bargaining.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet! I knew you cared!” Charlie cooed, Vaggie loved the woman but her willingness to trust could go a little farther than it should at times. Vaggie could think of a thousand better male role models for Charlie. Credit to her though, Charlie had been more firm with Alastor the last few weeks than she used to, much more willing to put her foot down on certain topics. Apparently she just needed an extreme example of stopping the man from torturing and coercing the soul out of a woman on her front lawn to get her to see reason in not always agreeing with the magical serial killer.

“Fine, you have a point. I do need the advice and you are… more knowledgeable on the topic than me. So thanks. No thank you for the training though, I’m good,” Vaggie conceded, though thanking the man felt rather like having a fistful of feathers yanked out. Alastor might certainly be powerful, but she didn’t want to be anything like him or even know the insane prices he might charge for his secrets. Never was there a more obvious trap than an offer of power from a man with a smile like that. Still, getting proper magical training from an Overlord had merit as an idea. Carmilla had shown off her own skill with magic several times during Vaggie’s visits and the woman was typically much more sane than the psychopath hovering nearby. It wouldn’t exactly hurt to bring up the topic in a future visit.

For now, Alastor made himself comfortable on a nearby seat and they got to work. Alastor insisted on Vaggie talking through her magical progress and explaining her hangups. Surprisingly, the man listened with minimal comment aside from the occasional question for clarification. After Vaggie had no more to really say, Alastor closed his eyes and seemed to actually consider her words for once.

“Hmm, yes, I do believe I can see the root of your issue. Quite the troublesome conundrum for anyone else, but thankfully my superior experience will see you through to a solution,” Alastor proclaimed with one of his oh so annoying little chuckles. “Yes, indeed. I do believe the issue can be handled delicately, one step at a time. To identify the issue first, it's rather simple really. The problem is that you are an educated woman.”

Vaggie's eye narrowed. “... Choose your next line of reasoning very carefully.”

Alastor casually brushed off her glare with a scoff. “Enough with your glaring, I'm no backwater sexist that doesn't believe in women's education. While I could certainly make a day out of outlining your many, many faults, your intelligence is not one of them. You being learned in the ways of science can be useful in making creative connections between concepts, but for the most part you are letting this knowledge get in your way. Too concerned with the technicalities rather than the possibilities. I, being a man of considerable intellect, briefly struggled with this once upon a time, though I had known… something of magic from my mortal life, that is neither here nor there,” Alastor explained, standing up as he went about his explanation. Vaggie frowned in thought. Alastor had a point, but it wasn’t exactly a new one. She hadn’t exactly worded it that way, but she already knew that her understanding of the scientific perspective of these topics was keeping her from being able to believe in the magical possibility. Still, Alastor usually seemed to get to the point even if he took a somewhat meandering path to get there, so she’d let him ramble… Though, he said he knew magic from when he was alive? That should be impossible. She was pretty convinced mortals had no access to real magic in the living world. Maybe some kind of old ritual magic? You’d think the powers that be in Heaven might mention things like that existed to the fucking Exorcists. Maybe Lute knew something, her higher rank sometimes gave her access to more privileged information. It was a slip of the tongue that Vaggie would have to look into later.

“Hmm hmm hmm, but how shall we get you over this little hang up? Oh yes, I think I have just the thing.” Alastor snapped his fingers in victorious fashion, grin widening as if he had come upon some brilliant revelation. Turning, he pointed a claw towards Vaggie, much closer to her nose than she liked. “You have gotten a sense for drawing upon your magic, yes? Like pulling a thread from your soul?”

“Started to get the hang of the feeling, yes.” Annoyed, Vaggie pushed the claw away from her face. She actually had to credit Lute for that one. Lute might be entirely magic deficient but the way she described her connection to that magic guitar seemed to be conceptually adjacent to using magic. “What does that have to do with this?”

“A lightbulb.”

“... What?”

“You are obviously aware of how a lightbulb works, correct?” Alastor asked and Vaggie gave a slow nod. She had been alive for a few years by the time the conman Edison patented the lightbulb, but the technology had been around for decades beforehand. It was pretty simple in retrospect. Electric current passing through a filament made the metal heat up and glow. Strictly speaking, it could be a lot more complicated if you wanted to get to the specifics or talk about modern light bulbs using gas instead but Vaggie made an effort to keep her thoughts grounded. “Then the solution is simple. If you wish to make light, rather than worry about how light can exist without a source, simply make one. Draw the magic from your core into a filament and set it alight. Simple as that.” Alastor ran his finger through the air, making a swirling motion that left a thin looping line in the air. With an electric buzz and a flicker in the exact fashion of an old lightbulb, the ‘filament’ brightened and glowed.

“That… I mean-” Vaggie wanted to argue that it was far too simple but that did make some amount of sense. She could feel that connection to her soul like a length of string or, rather, a thin wire and it was a conduit for magical energy. Magical energy taking the place of electricity in this scenario, would it be that hard to make a magic bulb? It answered the issue of sourceless light as the source was wired directly to her. Still, there were plenty of objections she could- a hand settled on her shoulder. Vaggie looked up to see Charlie giving her a knowing smile.

“Maybe just give it a try before you try to think yourself to death?” Charlie suggested. As usual, she was right. The whole issue was Vaggie overthinking, so she should at least make an effort to just take a semi-plausible idea and roll with it.

“... It doesn’t hurt to try.” Vaggie admitted. Sitting up slightly, Vaggie put her thinking face on as she attempted to put the idea into action. Thinking about a lightbulb and how it worked at least gave her a better frame of reference to build around. Attempts to draw a filament into the air like Alastor turned out to be fruitless. After some pondering, Vaggie held up both her hands, palms facing towards each other. If she was considering magic like electricity, then maybe she could think of her body like a circuit? She just had to pluck the filament from her core, imagine running it through one arm and out her palm. An invisible line connecting to her opposite hand, running back through the arm and to her core, completing the circuit and- a thin line of pale light flickered to life between her palms. It was so sudden that Vaggie immediately lost the connection but… it had been there!

Brow crinkling in concentration, Vaggie ran her mind through the scenario once again, imagining the circuit running through her again. As before, the light flickered weakly but this time she was prepared and didn’t let it go. Stronger now, a thin line of light ran from one palm to the other. Like her fire, it was a strange ghostly white light that stood in stark defiance of what should be easily visible in a bright room and- the light began to dim- and the color was probably fine? Filaments made out of different materials or with certain coatings could produce different colors and if magic could replace electricity then it could probably fill in the gaps in whatever chemicals or metals were necessary. The light brightened and stabilized as if it was pleased with that answer. 

“You did it!” Charlie squealed, happily hugging Vaggie’s side and squeezing her in a crushing grip. Good girlfriends were always encouraging and Charlie certainly knew how to encourage the breath out of one’s lungs.

“Taking the idea a bit literally, but it does seem my ideas have paid off. Not bad for a first attempt.” Alastor commented, leaning down to inspect the line of light. 

“It’s… it’s a bit off from making a ball of light, but I think I can work with it,” Vaggie managed, catching her breath as Charlie finally released her. She looked down at the line, noticing that her hands had shifted when she was hugged and the light was now… bent. Well, it was mimicking a metal filament so that almost made sense. She shifted her hands to bend it back but of course it didn't return to being perfectly straight until she kind of ‘commanded’ it to snap tight. Again, tension didn't make sense as it was intangible light BUT she had to focus on the fact that it was there rather than why it shouldn't be there.

Fiddling with it further, Vaggie managed to get a few new ideas to work. Firstly, she moved the line from the center of her palms to the tips of her fingers, which was a little easier to experiment with, though if she could do that… Vaggie clapped her hands together, then pulled them apart, lines of light connecting the tips of each of her fingers now. One line or multiple, that seemed to make sense as long as they were wired to the same source. Still, it wasn’t quite the floating ball of light, was it? After several minutes of experimentation, with some suggestions from Charlie and Alastor helping her along, Vaggie made something approaching progress on that front. Firstly, rather than using both hands like a large circuit, she could run it up her arm, out of her palm, into the air, back into the same hand and back to her core. The hardest part was making part of the filament not light up and remain invisible. Eventually she managed to settle on a coin sized ring of light floating above her palm without any visible connection. Still not a ball, but worlds better than she started.

“Your methods are rather crude and convoluted, requiring far too much mental strain for such minimal effect… but they work. Fairly quick progress if I am inclined to be generous,” Alastor admitted, which was probably one of the closest things to a direct compliment he had ever said to her.

“Better than nothing,” Vaggie said with a tired sigh, dropping the magic and letting the light fade. It was barely a cantrip but she had been at this for a while now and trying to force the mental images was giving her a headache. Alastor was correct, even Vaggie could feel that she was being inefficient in terms of thought and energy, but that would be something she could improve with practice and time. She’d done more than enough magic for today. “But your advice…. did really help. Thank you.”

“See, isn’t it so nice when we all work together and get along?” Charlie gushed, pleased as punch with this turn of events and some of her favorite people getting along. 

“I’d dare to say that even a boulder could learn magic from my esteemed tutelage, so there was no doubt that my help would be invaluable. Nonetheless, few things are quite so satisfying as seeing a job well done.” Thoroughly pleased with himself, Alastor settled back down in his seat. Vaggie was fine to let him stroke his own ego for a bit, so long as he cleaned up after the fact. “Still, since it seems that magic lessons are over, what was the plan for the day, girls? Seems a rather quiet day around the hotel, you two ought to be out enjoying such a nice day rather than hole up in here.”

“Well, we’re working on some plans for our own date night next week, but tonight we did actually have plans to take Lute out for dinner! Been planning it all week,” Charlie said, wiggling in excitement. Charlie loved surprises and had been about ready to burst out of her skin planning this. Thankfully, Lute was absolutely none the wiser. It hadn’t been too difficult to make sure she kept the day clear, everything was going according to plan so far. “Where is she, by the way? I haven’t seen her since breakfast.”

“Apparently she went off with Husk, Cherri, and Angel. Explains why things have been so quiet today.”

“Aww, that's wonderful! Really good to see her getting along with the others. I wonder what those three might get up to though? Hopefully nothing dangerous.”

“Doubt it, we made it pretty clear in her contract that she isn’t supposed to be starting fights or anything. Probably just wanted to go shopping or something. Husk is usually a pretty good voice of reason, they shouldn’t get into anything too bad.” Vaggie shrugged, pulling out her phone to check her messages and probably doomscroll for a bit. She didn’t have any messages from the four of them, so everything seemed fine. It was almost two in the afternoon and they weren’t back yet, which was somewhat odd. Lute didn’t seem thrilled about going outside the hotel at all, so Vaggie figured she’d be back by now.

“Ugh… You’re taking that thing to dinner? On purpose? Whyever would you want to do that?” Alastor’s grin turned to a look of disgust at the thought of Lute. Those two weren’t any closer to getting along. Which was probably for the best. Even if Alastor had just proven he could occasionally be helpful, Vaggie still refused to forget that the man was volatile and dangerous. 

“It’s a special occasion,” Vaggie explained, getting a raised eyebrow from the Radio Demon. “Well, Lute is bad about keeping track of the date in general, almost never bothers to look at the calendar. I swear she might have forgotten Exterminations if Adam and I didn’t remind her. Anyways, she’s been even more off than usual with the… change of scenery, so she’s completely lost track of the fact that today is-”

Vaggie’s exposition was cut short when the hotel’s doors were shoved open with quite a bit more force than necessary, prompting them to turn and look towards the source of the sound. Angel Dust was at the door, having half-kicked it open with a look of mild distress on his face. He was using his lower set of hands to guide Lute through the doors, who stumbled along with a blank expression and holy shit, she looked terrible! Absolutely covered with dirt, soot stains, scratches, and burns, and her shirt was almost half soaked with glowing blood.

“Lute, what the fuck!?” Vaggie yelled reflexively, standing up and stomping around the couch towards the pair. Seriously? Fucking seriously? They leave Lute unsupervised for a few hours and she gets in a fight? Explicitly against their wishes? Worse yet, she got the staff involved. Did Lute have any concept of how much trouble this could cause? They wanted to do one fucking nice thing for her and this is how she acts? Vaggie couldn’t believe she had actually started to think the other angel was starting to do better.

Intent on giving the woman a piece of her mind, Vaggie stomped over and brought up a hand to shove in Lute’s face as she was about to lay into her with every ounce of military drill instructor energy she could muster but… something was wrong. Very, very wrong. It was clear as soon as Vaggie looked Lute in the eyes. Lute was standing, breathing, and seemingly fully functional but her eyes were… dead. Unfocused, a yellow so pale they were almost white. Not seeing or registering anything in front of them. Lute hadn’t reacted at all to Vaggie’s yelling or angry stomping, not even a twitch. The lights were on but nobody was home. The anger drained out of Vaggie’s body in a heartbeat with a strange chill left in its wake. Slowly, she turned to look at Angel Dust, who wore an expression of equal parts guilt and concern. “Explain. Now.”

“Okay, so… don’t freak out-”

“That will depend entirely on what I’m about to hear.”

“Fair. So, yeah uh… Jeez, how to put this. We mighta kinda maybe… broke Lute,” Angel admitted with a very strained smile.

“Broke Lute? What do you mean you brok- Oh woah, woah! Why is she covered in blood?” Charlie had rushed over at this point, immediately stepping over to look at the very much open wound in her shoulder. The Princess leaned down to inspect the wound with a worried frown. “Is… is that a gunshot or a stab wound?”

“Uh… both,” Angel answered in the most unhelpful manner possible.

“ Fucking explain, ” Vaggie growled.

“Alright, alright! Calm down, toots, it's not as serious as it looks… I think. Pretty sure. Like sixty percent sure.” Seeing that now both Charlie and Vaggie’s faces had shifted towards a frown, Angel held up his hands and got back on topic. “Okay so, technically what I said before? Not accurate. We didn’t break Lute, Lute broke Lute. Sounds crazy but it's true. She dragged us all out to Doomsday cuz she wanted to do some extra training with bombs and bullets and shit and-”

“Please…. Please tell me she didn’t manage to convince you to use live ammunition.” Vaggie was starting to see the general shape of this cavalcade of dumbfuckery. Lute had a long history of trying to convince other Exorcists to duel her with proper weapons rather than safe training weapons, it was a mistake most Exorcists only ever made once but it had happened several dozen times. This kind of dumb bullshit was right up her alley.

“Could say that, buuuut I’d be lyin’. If it's any consolation, I was pretty against the whole idea from the start,” Angel said with a shrug.

“You shot her!?” Charlie blurted out with a flash of anger that seemed to surprise even her as she quickly made an effort to calm herself. “Okay, okay. Training gone… very wrong. That explains all of this, ” Charlie gestured at Lute’s injured and disheveled state, “but what about this? ” This time, Charlie gestured towards the angel’s vacant expression. She hadn’t reacted or even blinked the whole time they’d been standing around her and yelling. Nervously, Charlie tried snapping her fingers or poking the woman, but she remained eerily non-reactive.

“Yeeeeah, that happened after things kinda took a turn south,” Angel said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m pretty sure she didn’t get a brain injury or nothin’ though I’m not sure her head can get anymore fucked. After that last explosion she just kinda dropped like a sack o’ hammers, been like this ever since.” 

“Explosion? What kind of damn bombs was Cherri throwing that left her fucking brain dead? ” Vaggie growled. Fuck, this was fucking weird and confusing and upsetting. Last time she’d seen Lute all fucked up an injured it had felt almost good, Lute paying for all the bad shit she’d done. Plus that was before the woman had finally apologized and worked very hard to make up for all those mistakes, and their relationship had changed since then. Vaggie could appreciate a bit of schadenfreude when it was deserved, but apparently Lute hadn’t done anything worse than just be a moron with no sense of risk assessment. The worry crawling in her gut only worsened everytime she made the mistake of taking in Lute’s soulless eyes, completely lacking the quiet intensity she was so used to seeing. 

“Wasn’t… none of… mine,” Cherri’s voice came between grunts as she and Husk entered the scene, working together and dragging… Lute’s guitar?

“Sergeant Dumbass… was fucking around… with this stupid… hunk of fucking metal,” Husk growled as he and Cherri heaved the golden guitar across the threshold into the hotel. Once they got it in the door, they seemed to mutually agree to give up and unceremoniously dropped the guitar to the floor. It hit the ground with a surprisingly heavy thud and an indignant twang of its strings. Husk leaned on his knees and panted, Cherri didn’t look much better but she at least managed to wander off to a nearby chair to collapse in. “Had to… drag that fucking thing all the way from fucking Doomsday. Heavy ass piece of junk.” 

“What are you talking about, it doesn’t even weigh a pound.” Vaggie asked. She’d carried the thing around for a bit when Lute was first banished, both to keep it out of Alastor’s hands and because she figured that Lute would try to call the thing to her as soon as she woke up… which she had been right about. The guitar might be made out of gold but it might as well have been made of gold foil for how light it was. Vaggie nudged it with her foot, surprised to find that it didn’t budge even a fraction at her touch. What in the goddamn? Fucking weird magic relics. “Whatever, what do you mean she was fucking around with it?”

“After a couple rounds and getting a bullet in the arm, we finally convinced her to do some safer shit. She picked up that axe and started hacking up a building, bit dramatic but the lightshow was neat,” Husk explained, grunting as he straightened up and pushed a crack out of his back. Groaning with all the tired old man energy he could muster, he reached over and flicked Lute in the forehead and still got no reaction. Frowning, the man shook his head, trying to hide the flicker of concern on his face by taking a swig from his flask. “Started getting really into it, scary fast and then she… made the axe get bigger?”

“She what?” Vaggie started at the sound of Alastor’s voice being far closer than she expected. The Radio demon straightened up, dusting himself off and making an effort to pretend he hadn’t just been in the middle of trying and failing to budge the guitar from its spot on the floor. He turned his attention to Husk, expression intense.

“Don’t ask me how, it just doubled in size all of a sudden and she was struggling like it was really heavy,” Husk explained, holding up his hands. Alastor studied him intently, then looked at Lute with a suspicious expression. Saying nothing more of what was on his mind, Alastor gestured for Husk to continue, but notably, he took a decent step away from Lute. That was curious. Actually, now that Vaggie thought about it, she was pretty sure that Adam had done a similar trick while fighting Alastor. Looks like the big scary Radio Demon had a bit of PTSD from that particular attack. Good to know. “When she finally managed to chop the thing and… well, I’m not one to exaggerate or nothing, but it was like she dropped a fucking sun on that building.”

“Fuckin’ brilliant honestly. Didn’t even leave fuckin’ bricks behind,” Cherri chimed in.

“Fuckin’ stupid is what it was,” Angel sighed.

“Anyways, after that lightshow, she made it two steps before dropping like a fucking rock. She’s been out of it ever since and we’ve been busy trying to rush her back here… well, more that Cherri and I got stuck dragging that thousand pound hunk of junk and Angel has been walking her back.”

“Ay! I got noodle arms, ya know I wouldn’t been no help draggin’ that thing!”

“Lazy ass,” Cherri groaned from her seat, which prompted some playfully annoyed Italian out of the pornstar.

While the three chucklefucks argued, Charlie and Vaggie guided Lute to sit down on the couch. She definitely wasn’t mentally present to any degree, but her body was alive and seemed reactive. If you gently nudged her, she’d walk forward rather than let herself be pushed over. It seemed like her brain was on autopilot, a car cruising down a straight road without a driver. No amount of poking, prodding, or name calling got even a flicker of recognition. The effect was deeply unsettling, like a zombie, somehow less reactive than the half living husks that Alastor commanded to do his bidding. Once they got her sat down, Charlie went into full nurse mode, poking around her and getting a sense for her injuries.

“She doesn’t seem too injured other than the arm which… an attempt was made to plug the wound so that’s something. Scrapes, bruises, burns and a small puncture wound on her rib. Not the… worst that I’ve seen Lute,” Charlie mumbled as she went about her examination.

“So, physically she’s fine?” Vaggie asked.

“... Fine for Lute. Anyone else I’d be rushing to the hospital, but a lot of the smaller stuff is patching itself up. Her healing is weird, not regeneration or anything like that but a lot faster than regular people. Still, I probably need to get that bullet out,” Charlie sighed, calling up her first aid kit with a quick motion. Charlie had barely had to use that thing for years since Vaggie’s recovery but nowadays it was getting a lot of mileage.

“Don’t worry about that, got the bullet right here!” Cherri forgot her argument with Angel and Husk to pull out a small chunk of twisted and faintly gold stained metal and show it off like it was a personal treasure. “Crazy cunt ripped it out all by herself!”

“SHE FUCKING WHAT!?” Charlie roared, eyes going fully demonic in her sudden fury.

“With one of her fuckin’ claws, I don’t get to unsee that shit,” Angel complained.

Vaggie looked down, finally noting that one of Lute’s claws was caked in drying gold blood. Why the fuck would she think that was an okay thing to do? Why wouldn’t she just call them if she was hurt? Vaggie groaned, slapping a palm to her face as she tried to think through all the bullshit self-destructive reasons Lute would miraculously invent for such a braindead stupid idea. Charlie was fully devoted to furiously setting up to stitch the wound shut, mutterting about infections and internal damage all the while. No doubt Lute had probably made a literal gunshot wound much worse by virtue of digging around in the wound with an angelic blade. They seriously needed to talk about getting Lute a fucking back up arm or something, something that didn’t have claws . Doing her best to center her breathing and not follow up on the impulse to start smacking people over the back of the head, Vaggie realigned her priorities. Lute was physically fi- okay not fine, but not in danger of dying. Charlie could deal with the physical injury. Whatever was wrong with Lute seemed to not be physical. That's what Vaggie needed to focus on.

“Lets… focus for a minute. You said she passed out, then what? She started walking around like a zombie?” Vaggie asked Angel, who gave a bit of a shrug.

“She was completely blacked out like a white girl after a bender. Husk smacked her a few times and her eyes opened but nobody was home. I tried to carry her for a bit but that tiny bitch is dense-”

“Six arms, not a pound of muscle on one of them,” Cherri chipped in, getting a dry chuckle from Husk. Vaggie just rolled her eye, was now really the time for jokes?

“Shut it Cherr, anyways. I got a bit winded and set her down and said somethin’ along the lines of ‘fuck, I wish ya’d just walk’ and… she did. Weirdest fuckin’ thing. Not a word or nothin’ just hopped off and started walkin’ in whatever direction ya pushed her in,” Angel explained, gesturing towards the patiently sitting angel, who didn’t twitch or wince as Charlie cut open part of her shirt to start stitching up her wound. “She just kinda seems to do whatever ya tell her, autopilot or some shit. Watch this. Ey Lute, Nod your head if ya hear me.”

As soon as the command left his lips, Lute gave a single, quick nod and then returned to her motionless position. The movement was so sudden and robotic that it felt profoundly unnatural. Lute was bad enough about blindly following orders when she was awake but at least she only would take orders from her and Charlie at this point. The idea that she might respond to any command she was given-

“You… didn’t ask her to do anything weird, did you?” Vaggie asked, turning a suspicious glance towards Angel.

"Ey! I resent that accusation. Never done nothin' to nobody without their consent. I'm a whore, not a creep," Angel snapped with an offended glare, Vaggie immediately felt bad for even considering it. She knew Angel better than that, he’d never do anything of the sort.

“Sorry, sorry. You’re right, that was shitty of me to assume. You don’t deserve that. Just worried and letting my mouth run,” Vaggie apologized, the idea of someone taking advantage of Lute in her current state had just curdled her stomach and she’d spoken out of turn.

“Eh, heard worse. I’ll forgive ya cuz you’re worried about her, kinda worried myself.” 

“It is a curious state to be in. The body is fully active, even the mind seems functional enough to respond to any command. I wonder how far it goes.” Alastor stepped over, looming over Lute while Charlie worked. Vaggie very much did not like the wide smile that had cracked across his face. “She could be faking it, only one way to know... Lute, tear your throat out.” 

The command dropped from his lips as casually as a coffee order. There was a slight click of metal as Lute’s metallic hand twitched into motion but Vaggie was already tackling her with enough force to knock her, Lute, Charlie, and the couch over, spilling them all onto the ground. The metal arm strained against Vaggie’s grip as she barely stopped the claws only a few inches from Lute’s neck. She looked over, expecting help from Charlie but the woman had been forced to abandon her needle in Lute’s wound as she was restraining Lute’s other arm. She didn’t seem to be struggling as much, but it was notable that Charlie did seem to have to put in some amount of strain to hold the arm away from Lute’s throat. All the while, Lute’s expression didn’t change a fraction, hauntingly still despite two women physically restraining her from trying to claw out her own throat.

“Lieutenant! Disregard previous orders!” Vaggie shouted as her grip on the metallic arm was starting to slip. There was the smallest flicker of recognition as Lute’s pale eyes moved towards Veggie before both her arms went obediently slack so suddenly that Vaggie flopped backward with the now detached metallic arm still in her grip.

Laying on the ground, Vaggie panted as she recovered from having to suddenly interrupt a suicide attempt… or was it a homicide attempt? She was acting on someone else’s orders and had no self control. The definition didn’t matter as she rolled over and sent a murderous glare towards the Radio Demon, who’s wide grin remained unchanged.

“Fascinating, not even an ounce of hesitation. I guess she really isn’t faking it. Good to know.”

“What the Fuck, Alastor!?” Charlie growled, picking up Lute off the ground. “This isn’t a joke and Lute very nearly hurt herself! If Vaggie hadn’t thrown herself at her, she might have died!”

“Simple test of the validity of her condition. I’d have probably told her to stop before she seriously hurt herself.” Yeah, that was an obvious fucking lie. That man wanted any excuse to try to get rid of Lute. Vaggie just shook her head, pushing herself up and swinging Lute’s arm over her shoulder in a fashion that its clawed hand came dangerously close to Alastor’s face before she went to help Husk right the couch so Charlie could set Lute down and go back to stitching. She’d probably have to start over, the sudden tackle and muscle straining seemed to have ripped the few stitches that Charlie had managed to get in. Alastor was rather unphased by any of the accusatory looks thrown his way, merely inspecting his nails with sudden interest. “Informative if dramatic. Zero sense of self preservation yet full recognition of her name and commands. The mind and body are fully functional, yet it seems that the soul is vacant. If you desire to fix her, I think that should be where you start.”

That was obviously just a guess he was using as an excuse to cover up his attempt but… damn it, he was probably right. Shit, that should have been obvious in retrospect. Angelic weapons drew on your soul for power but the connection was practically negligible. That relic of hers drew a lot more power and based on what Husk had described, Lute had probably blown through more power than she had to spare.

“I… I don’t know how to fix souls,” Charlie admitted with a troubled expression.

“Neither do I, but I’m going to just skip a step and call your dad before anyone else tries something stupid.” Vaggie tossed Lute’s prosthetic on the couch and pulled out her phone. Talking to Charlie’s dad was always an experience, but the ancient fallen angel had the best chance of knowing at least something that might help. A few taps had the phone ringing, she went ahead and put the man on speaker phone.

“-call me? Uh, Heeeey Margie! What’s cracking bitch?” Lucifer’s voice crackled over the phone, earning an audible sigh from Charlie.

“It's… Vaggie, sir.”

“... I knew that,” Lucifer said a little too quickly. Vaggie should really just give up on Charlie’s father remembering her name.

“Listen, I am sure you’re probably busy but we kind of have an emergency here. Lute seems to have messed herself up pretty bad and I think we need your help-”

“Yeeeeah, sorry to cut you off there, Vags. I’m not really a doctor. More of Belphie’s thing. I mean, sure I was on the committee that helped design humans and all but that doesn’t mean I know much about how human or human adjacent anatomy works. Was really more of the aesthetics guy at the end of the day. Personally think I did a pretty good job, I mean, I wanted to make them look like angels but in a legally distinct fashion, you know? So yeah, health and anatomy is more Belphie, call Ozzie for anything below the belt.”

“... I... That’s really not the kind of messed up we meant, sir. She’s a little banged up but that’s not the point. She's able to get up and walk and respond to commands, so the lights are on but there's nobody home. According to Husk she got like this after messing around with her magic axe too hard and passing out.”

“That so? Hm ha hm hm hm ha hm. You said she passed out? Passed out in the middle of doing the thing with the thing or a bit after that thing?” While his diction was rather unrefined for an ancient being, it seemed Lucifer was at least paying attention for now. Usually a hard ask for that in any conversation with the man. Vaggie looked to Husk and gestured for him to answer.

“She got blown back a few feet by the explosion, stood up and walked a bit before dropping like a sack of potatoes,” Husk answered.

“Walked a bit? How many steps?” Lucifer asked with genuine curiosity, Husk and Vaggie exchanged a look, confused as to why that could possibly be important but just shrugged.

“Two steps.”

“Two? Whoof, well at least it wasn't four. Some good news. Right, and you said she's blindly obeying commands. Has anyone asked her to try to kill herself yet?”

“ Unfortunately yes, Alastor tried that,” Vaggie said, still glaring at the man.

“That’s great! Not that I want to give the bellhop any credit but it is important to know, any hesitation when she tried?” Lucifer asked. Vaggie blinked several times, staring at the phone. Alastor even looked a bit surprised at his weirdly positive reaction but tried to play it off with a smug grin as if he knew all along that instructing Lute to self terminate was some kind of important diagnostic test.

“...No hesitation, I guess? I had to tackle her to stop her from tearing her throat out,” Vaggie answered and really hoped that there was actually some kind of internal logic to Lucifer’s questions. She was already suspecting that whatever wonky soul logic made sense to him would be utter nonsense to anyone else’s ears. For all Vaggie knew, the proper way to diagnose a soul injury might have been to order Lute to whistle a song or some shit.

“Hmmm, yeah. Playing around with that guitar of hers too. Yeah, she’s not really in the class of angel to be swinging around a relic like that… yet. Yaaaap, probably took more than she was prepared to give. Sounds like you’ve got a pretty classic case of soul depletion going on there,” Lucifer delivered the diagnosis as if that wasn't a rather conceptually terrifying thing.

“Soul depletion sounds really, really bad. Please tell me it's not as bad as it sounds,” Charlie chimed in a nervous chuckle, more her attempting to force herself to remain positive rather than actually finding anything humorous.

“Oh, hey Char-bar, good to see ya kid… hear ya, whatever.” There was some commotion in the background on Lucifer's end, one or two other voices trying to chime in but Lucifer quickly talked over them “-No, I’m not going to let you- because it's an emergency phone call! …Oh don't give me that, I know. It's an emergency to them … probably. Now shoo, trying to talk to my daughter and her girlfriend. Anyways, back on topic, top-top-topiiic… Ah, right, soul depletion. It's not so bad. Think of it like… uh what's a good example? I already used lakes… let's go with fire this time, that sounds like something you kids can get your head around. Okay, so think of the soul as a nice little campfire like all the times your uncle took you on those adorable mini-camping trips on his ranch! Those were so adorable, I-”

“Ahah, Dad, can we focus please?” Charlie cut in, voice strained. In any other situation, Vaggie might be willing to work towards the potential of cute baby pictures of Charlie but Lute was apparently fucking soul depleted or some shit.

“Right, right. Campfires. Think of Lute’s soul like a campfire. Burning all nice and bright, giving off lots of heat, good for roasting marshmallows. Soul depletion is like taking a big ol’ bucket of ice water and just chucking it at the fire.” At this explanation, all heads immediately snapped towards the phone.

“You mean her soul is fucking extinguished!? That’s just a thing that can fucking happen!? ” Vaggie shrieked, nearly cracking the phone in her grip. The mental image of a campfire being unceremoniously snuffed out flashed in her mind, nothing but smoldering embers and smoke. Lute… couldn’t be just gone? After everything, the idea of her just being gone… Vaggie wasn’t exactly sure how it made her feel. Frightened? Sad? Hollow? A lot of emotions welled up rather suddenly and fought for dominance but mostly gave the impression of a very confusing knot, the type that somehow got worse if it was untangled. Even at their worst, Vaggie still hadn’t wanted Lute dead. It was hard to imagine her dying at all. Lute always seemed to have the ability to survive impossible situations like God’s favorite cockroach but… Well, if Lute was ever going to die then it seemed like it should happen in some vicious battle, not some bullshit random training accident. 

Vaggie looked to Charlie, seeing a look of pained conflict in the Princess’ eyes as she pulled the final stitch tight on Lute’s shoulder. She sat back, looking numb and probably wondering why she even bothered to stitch up what was seeming to be a walking corpse. Charlie had a pretty rough history with Lute, at least Vaggie had good memories with the woman before things got bad… but Charlie had been the first person to really give Lute the chance to change, a chance that she took and had actually seemed to be doing better on. The two were actually starting to get along fairly well, which had made Vaggie feel good that two people who were important to her seemed to connect as friends. But now? Weeks of stress and recovery, the mother of all emotional conversations, all that work and trying to build bridges just wasted. If there was no soul, then Lute was as good as dead, body or not. Fuck, what would they even do with the body?

“Extinguished? What? No, are you stupid?” Lucifer scoffed, drawing Vaggie’s attention back to the phone in her shaking hands. Shit, she hadn’t even noticed she had started trembling.

“... Lucifer… Please. Elaborate,” Vaggie managed, rather surprised at how much she was hoping that Lute was not, in fact, technically dead.

“I mean, so water is gonna really fuck the fire, but a strong blaze is gonna still have like hot coals and smoke and such. Play your cards right and you can get the whole thing going again. Everything you kids told me should give some strong chance of there still being at least like one good coal left. Getting her going again shouldn’t be too hard,” Lucifer explained. Vaggie and Charlie both let out a held breath, a sudden weight of tension lifting from their shoulders… At a later date, Vaggie might need to do some personal reflection and really dig into why the thought of Lute dying had very nearly sent her into an emotional spiral. One crisis at a time.

“Dad… I love you so much, but you really, really need to work on how you deliver news like this. Maybe try good news first, you know, before we have a heart attack,” Charlie sighed, looking both relieved and very frustrated. She also looked like she had her own knot of personal thoughts to work out over this situation. The fact that she did introduced a very different knot of personal thoughts that Vaggie repressed in record time.

“Souls are pretty resilient, they can handle getting snuffed most of the time so long as you get about it pretty quickly. So long as you get her going again within about an hour, hour and a half of when she went under, things should work out without permanent damage… this is the part where someone tells me how long she’d been out.” At the prompt, Vaggie looked to Husk. 

“... Uh… about forty or fifty  minutes since she went out. Maybe, we weren’t exactly keeping track of time,” he answered. The man’s face had gone through something of an emotional journey throughout the news, not as conflicted about things. Sure, Lute had tried to kill him a few times but in their time at the hotel Husk had become fairly fast friends or at least something very friendly adjacent. Husk was usually the first person Lute went to for a surprising amount of things and the two often sat up at night to talk over drinks. He’d looked pretty upset, but now seemed more determined to help.

“Uh, yeah. Hindsight, shoulda called you guys but uh… We were tryin’ to think of an explanation that wouldn’t make ya upset,” Angel admitted guiltily.

“... We didn’t end up thinking of anything btdubs. So, sorry for wastin’ time, didn’t know we were on a timer or nothin’.” Cherri looked genuinely apologetic.

“Hmm, yeah. Getting pretty kinda sorta close to the time limit, might want to get this train a-rolling,” Lucifer said.

“Okay, how quickly can you get here? We’re in the hotel lobby, I assume you can just portal in so-” Vaggie began but Lucifer cut her off.

“Oh, yeah no. Can’t come to you. Really busy in the middle of planning some… stuff… with friends. Not important so don’t ask but I deffo cannot drop things to come over-”

“Lucifer you godforsaken loose lipped lightweight, do not dare spoil anything,” a booming voice with a strong southern accent bellowed from the background of Lucifer’s end of the call, Vaggie could swore she’d heard it before and fairly recently. Charlie seemed to recognize it, mouthing ‘Uncle Sats?’ with a confused expression.

“It would be a lot easier to do that if you’d go away . Told you once, now shoo! Off with you, scales for brains!” Lucifer shouted, mouth away from the microphone before sighing dramatically as he brought the phone to proper position. “Yeah, I’m fairly confident you kids can do this without me as long as I talk you through it.”

“You want us to go through what I assume is the fairly delicate process of reigniting a soul… without direct supervision?” Vaggie asked, getting an affirmative noise in response. “Is that… safe?”

“... Probably.” Lucifer’s response came after a fairly unsettling pause. “Pretty sure you kids have everything you need, just listen to my instructions and it’ll be definitely totally fine. Especially since Charlie’s got that little contract with her, that will help a lot. She is gonna need some kinda donor… well, we don’t have a fresh angel around, but you’re still pretty holy, so that’ll have the least long term impact.”

“... Donor? Long term impact? Are you going to, you know, explain any of that?” Vaggie waited a few seconds, getting the distinct impression that Lucifer probably wasn't but this didn’t feel like a topic to leave hanging so she persisted. “Let me rephrase. Please explain that so I know I’m not about to fuck Lute up for life… worse than she already was anyway.”

“You kids, always so many questions. Fine, fine. Simple answer, fire’s down to coals? Throw some fuel on it. Wrong kind of fuel might have unintended consequences. Lute’s soul just needs some fuel, anyone with the basic understanding of magic can do it really, just kinda pump some of your soul stuff onto her soul stuff and that should help get her going. You both are angels and even if you have been in Hell a lot longer, you haven’t fallen so your soul is mostly uncorrupted, means you’re the best donor. Divine mixes better with divine. All the little sinners aren’t divine even a little and are pretty influenced by Hell at this point. Charlie is technically half angel buuut my blood is a bit kinda sorta very infused with the nature of Hell and dumping that into someone like Lute… Well, I’ll be honest, not entirely sure what would happen but it’ll be dramatic. Try it if you’re down to experiment.”

“I, uh, think I can manage doing it myself,” Vaggie said, exchanging a look of concern with Charlie. The Princess frowned, seemingly thinking through the potential results of what Lucifer suggested. The idea of mixing souls and that having some kind of lingering effect was bizarre. How would that even manifest? Did she even want to know?

“Last thing we need is a catalyst, that should be easy I think. Lute’s a scrappy type, her purpose has something to do with fighting?”

“To be the ‘perfect soldier’ apparently.” Vaggie nodded.

“Classic warrior angel type stuff, but damn, that’s a lazy purpose. No wonder that kid’s so fucked up. Oh well. Hmm… is the bellhop still there?” 

After confirming that by ‘bellhop’ he meant Alastor, at Lucifer’s request they took the phone off speaker and handed it to the Radio Demon. Alastor glared at the modern phone but sighed and took it. Vaggie did actually understand why the man preferred his personal landline as the act of his having to move the phone up to his tall ears to hear and then down to his mouth to speak was a bit ridiculous.

“... You cannot be serious. You want me to help her?... Obviously I can, hardly means I feel inclined to… Yes, I understand it means a lot to Charlie but-... Pardon me?... You’re serious? That will help?... Well, I suppose when you put it that way. Fine, consider it done.” In a surprising first, Alastor started the conversation off annoyed and ended it looking rather pleased. Usually whenever he talked to Lucifer, it went the opposite way, leaving with Alastor teetering on the edge of barely restrained fury. That man looking happy couldn't mean anything good. Smiling broadly, Alastor handed the phone back to Vaggie and then he… shrugged off his jacket and started rolling up his sleeves? That was definitely a fucking first.

“... What, exactly, did he ask you to do?” Vaggie eyed Alastor suspiciously as he neatly folded his coat and set it down on the couch.

“Simply that I lend a firm hand to help stoke Lute's fire. This isn't something I get the opportunity to do often, so I intend to make the most of it. The King was very clear it was medically necessary, so let's listen to the doctor’s orders, shall we? You do your part and I'll do mine.” Still grinning, Alastor cracked his knuckles and began to stretch.

Vaggie would love to further interrogate on what the man could possibly find so amusing about the prospect of helping Lute of all people or why Lucifer would ask him for help, but they didn't have a lot more time to keep dancing around the subject. They were apparently on a timer and the idea of this not working at all or potentially having some kind of long term consequences was not one Vaggie wanted to grapple with. Lucifer proceeded to give them more instructions. Soon enough, she, Charlie, and Alastor were standing over Lute.

Each of them had some small part to play and would have to act fairly quickly. Charlie’s contract was apparently still connected to Lute's soul which meant she could hopefully draw it up to the surface. Apparently that would save Vaggie a lot of effort in trying to dig around and make a connection with the soul so she could dump her magic into it. Lastly, Alastor would do… something. They all had to work pretty quickly and Lucifer made a vague mention of diminishing returns, so they probably only had one really good try.

Taking a breath, Vaggie took hold of Lute's hand. It was cold, but in a way that was natural to angels and it felt so very different from Charlie's innate warmth. Alive, but also limp and unresponsive to her touch. Focusing on the lessons she'd just been practicing how to draw on that connection to her soul, pulling a tether from within and pushing it along her arm and into Lute. It felt a lot like poking into some chilling black void, utterly devoid of warmth or light. She couldn't even sense any remnant of what should be there but Vaggie was determined to trust the process rather than freak out. There would be plenty of time for that later.

Vaggie looked to Charlie, indicating it was her turn. The princess gulped, bringing her hands up as the golden chain manifested in them. It weakly flickered into existence, looking dull rather than its usual radiant shine. Not a great sign but it did appear which was something at least. Charlie nervously fiddled with the chain, wrapping it around her fists to make sure she had a solid grip. Her part was fairly simple… hopefully. Steeling her nerves, Charlie braced her feet and gave the chain a hard yank. The chain clanked taught, Lute's body jerking in response as the chain pulled at her neck and, in theory, what remained of her soul. Vaggie kept her attention on both the feeling of that thread poking into Lute's being and on Lute's dull eyes. Just for a moment, the pale yellow of Lute's eyes brightened to something more like their natural intense gold, just as Lucifer said it would. Creasing her brow, Vaggie gripped Lute's hand tighter and pushed that connection deeper. She felt like she was reaching around blindly in a dark room but… there was something. Barely anything, but there was a spot that wasn't as cold as the rest. The weakest flicker of a smoldering coal as it struggled to hold against the approaching cold. 

Vaggie shoved harder, reaching out and grabbing that little bit of flickering light, making a connection and pushing energy into it… she hadn't been warned that it might push back. Sensations and images flew along the connection and assaulted her mind in rapid succession. 

A half flooded swamp, the ruins of buildings being grown over with new life. It felt desolate, yet not hopeless. The remains of something broken  slowly growing into something new. Yet the waters around those ruins were dark and deep, with no signs of receding. An old well sat in that swamp, wood planks hastily nailed over it but not enough to keep water from slowly seeping through the cracks. A terrible sensation of building pressure pressed against the stone and wood, held at bay for now but only barely.

What came next was more sensation and emotion than any coherent image but it slammed into her mind with the force of a physical blow. She felt that pressure slam down on her shoulders and a terrible heat burning around her as if Vaggie was standing at the bottom of some dark, boiling ocean. A deep and unfathomable feeling of rage barged into her mind and spread through every inch of her body like fire running through her veins. The world around her seemed unbearably loud, every sound from distant conversations to the sound of people breathing was uncomfortably clear to her, painfully so like nails clawing into her brain. Vaggie felt as if she wanted to run and drive her spear into every living thing she could see until the world was finally quiet and still.

A shaky gasp left Vaggie as these foreign emotions battered against her mind. Every ounce of willpower she had went into resisting that tide of wrath and keeping her mind focused on maintaining that connection to Lute. For fuck’s sake, this had to be some kind of magic emotion intensifying bullshit, there was no fucking way that Lute felt like this all the time , right!? She felt like if she lost her grip on her self control for even a second then she might turn into some feral animal hellbent on destruction. Closing her eyes, she steadied her breathing and forced the raging tide to the side just long enough to feel a stronger response from the fragment, the coal giving off a stronger sense of warmth. Still weak and in need of fuel, but stronger than before.

“ Alastor . Whatever the fuck you're going to do, do it right goddamn now,” Vaggie managed through gritted teeth, eager to break this connection and hopefully be free of the hot iron being shoved through her thoughts as soon as possible.

“Gladly.” Laughing madly, Alastor rolled his shoulders and stepped forward. Still straining against her emotional burden, Vaggie managed to look up, fairly curious as to what he was about to do. Lucifer must have needed Alastor to deal with this part for a reason, maybe there was some kind of weird magic trick that would finally wake Lute up. Perhaps even his voodoo magic to somehow reconnect body and soul? Whatever Vaggie was expecting, it wasn't for Alastor to pull his arm back and punch Lute in the face.

Not a light punch either, Alastor threw his whole body into the swing. His fist connected with Lute's cheek with an impressive crack and the next moment the woman was ripped from Vaggie's grip and sent flying across the hotel lobby with enough force to send her into the far opposite wall with a crash. Even Charlie hadn't had the time to react, a length of bright golden chains trailing behind Lute's body before quickly fading away as Charlie lost grip on it. A beat of silence held as everyone took in what just happened, watching as Lute's body hit the wall, destroying a standing lamp and a potted plant that showered dirt around her as she slumped to the ground.

Even with the connection broken, Vaggie still felt an echo of that deep and profound anger as she whipped out her spear, turning on Alastor. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Charlie’s eyes go demonic as she started rounding on the man. Fortunately before any amount of well deserved yelling or stabbing could begin, they were all interrupted by a voice.

“I WILL TEAR YOU A-FUCKING-SUNDER, YOU GODFORSAKEN GANGLY RED SHITLORD!” roared Lute with volume that shook the room with its unmatched fury. Along with a truly impressive stream of curses in English and French, Lute was picking herself up as if she hadn’t just been a walking corpse. The white haired angel furiously brushed dirt and glass fragments off herself, radiant golden eyes staring Alastor down with burning intensity. She did at least briefly pause from bolting across the room to rub the side of her face and wince, noticing she had developed quite the large bruise from getting pummeled.

“... Holy shit, that worked,” Vaggie mumbled, taking in the sight. “ Holy shit, that actually worked!”

“Was there any doubt?” Alastor laughed, shaking his hand out. He actually winced a bit as he flexed his hand, apparently he really put his back into that punch. “According to Lucifer, Lute needed something to awaken her instincts as a warrior. I simply needed to do something to convince her that she was in mortal danger, which woul- Shit!” Alastor let slip a curse as he ducked out of the way of an spinning arc of gold, barely dodging as Lute’s axe spun through the air and slammed into the wall only an inch from his face.

Husk, Cherri, and Angel stood by in confused awe as Lute had marched over, easily lifted her axe and thrown it at Alastor like a boomerang. Which might have been a normal action had they not been forced to drag the axe several blocks on account of it being so heavy even Alastor hadn’t been able to budge it off the floor mere minutes ago. Uncaring of the many people staring at her, Lute continued her furious march to square up with the Radio Demon as he recovered from the near miss.

“You insufferable sociopath ZEALOT!” Alastor roared, static buzzing filling the air as he looked down at her. “This is the thanks I get for helping you!?”

“Helping me!? I don’t even know why you’re here! All I know is I’m going to rip those fucking horns off your head this time, Radio Boy, ” Lute barked, pointing a finger in his face, either unaware of or uncaring of the fact that she was starting a fight one handed.

“Radio b- That is the final straw, you miserable pigeon!”

“I couldn’t agree more, its time we fucking end th- oof!” Lute’s hand was held out to the side, ready to summon her axe and commit some rather severe acts of violence but Vaggie had seen enough. 

Taking a page out of her girlfriend’s book, for the second time today, Vaggie tackled Lute. Rather than restrain her from self harm, this time she just pulled the woman into a hug. Lute, who had never been good with hugs at all, went absolutely rigid in Vaggie’s arms. Good, this was the one time she wanted Lute distracted from punching Alastor’s teeth out. A shaky breath forced itself out of her lungs as Vaggie wrestled with a very different tide of emotions than the wave of anger she felt moments ago. The knot from before was back and dangerously close to unravelling. She squeezed tighter, feeling the way that Lute’s body was stiff not from being unresponsive but out of awkward tension, the difference between this and the soulless husk from before was staggering. This was Lute, awake, alive, angry, awkward, and a lot of other adjectives that Vaggie didn’t have the mental energy to keep alliterating. 

Now that the situation had been resolved, the full weight of what almost happened crashed into Vaggie. She had felt just how little of Lute was left, if they’d wasted even a few more minutes there might not have been anything to save at all. Lute would have just been gone… forever. That thought terrified Vaggie, far more than she ever knew it would. There had been a time, a rather long time, when Vaggie had hated Lute. Hated the way she was betrayed, hated Lute for being a selfish coward, for choosing Adam over her, for threatening the life that she built with Charlie… but then she learned how much Lute hated herself for all those decisions, how she was willing to put her soul on the line and commit to decades or centuries of trying to fix her mistakes. These last few weeks had reminded Vaggie of the years they had spent together, of how deeply Lute cared about the people around her, how much their friendship had meant, and in her weaker moments, the feelings she had tried to repress for the woman. Lute still wasn’t forgiven for what she had done but… she made Vaggie happy, and Vaggie would be damned all over again if she was going to give that up.

Especially not over something so brain rottingly fucking stupid as a goddamn training accident.

“FUCKING MORON!” Vaggie released the very, very confused angel without warning only to grab a fistful of her collar and begin to violently shake the idiot, praying to God that if she shook hard enough she could expel the very essence of stupidity out of the woman’s incredibly dense skull. Lute didn’t really get out much more than inarticulate noises as she was shaken, so Vaggie took the opportunity to get some well earned yelling in. It really helped distract everyone and herself from just how much she was crying. “Pendeja! ¡Te mataría si no hubieras estado a punto de morir una vez hoy! ¿Qué carajo estabas pensando? ¿Cómo te atreves a hacer que me preocupe por ti? ¡Cerebro de pájaro! ¡Imbécil! ¡¿Por qué no tienes siquiera el sentido común que Dios le dió a un puto ladrillo?!”

While Vaggie was focused on rattling Lute’s brain, Alastor looked on with an annoyed expression. The man had rather deflated as he watched the two angels having their emotional episode. He’d probably been looking forward to another scrap with the freshly awakened angel, but it was looking like that wasn’t going to happen. He simply picked up his coat and turned to move away but a hand stopped him. He glanced over to see Charlie reaching out to glad his sleeve, her eyes a little blurry with tears herself.

“Need something? As fun as this has been, I really ought to be getting ready for my next broadcast,” he asked, failing to hide the annoyed tone in his voice.

“Thank you, Alastor.” Charlie said, making him blink in surprise. “I know you didn’t have to help and that you don’t like Lute… but you did. Thank you, and I’m really sorry for almost getting mad at you. Lute’s awake because of what you did and that… means a lot to me.”

“... Ah… Yes, well, think nothing of it. Honestly only bothered because your father suggested I get to hit her, naturally.” Alastor gave Charlie a light pat on the head, trying to brush off her sincere thanks. Not one of Alastor’s better lies, even in the middle of still shaking Lute she could see the conflicted look on his face. Being a serial killer and an Overlord all his life, the man seemed to be impenetrable but Charlie had a way of getting to people. Alastor probably wasn’t used to someone being genuinely appreciative of his efforts. “Besides, If Lute was out of the picture then I’d have to go back to torturing your girlfriend, absolute stick in the mud that she is. Not nearly as fun as our little ball of anger issues.”

“I still appreciate what you did.” Charlie wiped away a tear as quickly pulled the man into a hug. Surprisingly like Lute, the man went rigid in her grip like a deer in the headlights. He, however, managed to recover quicker, freeing his arms and pushing Charlie back a respectable distance.

“Very kind of you to say, Charlie dear, but as I said I do have a broadcast to get back to and I would rather abscond before this scene grows any more saccharine. Now, good day and good luck with dinner.” Alastor brushed himself off, pausing only a moment to give Charlie something of a more sincere smile before he resumed his usual expression and turned to leave. His walking away was really more of a statement because they all knew he was just going to fade into the shadows the moment he turned a corner. It was pretty rare the man ever bothered to use the elevator or stairs unless he was using it as an excuse to trap someone in a conversation.

Vaggie eased up on Lute as she watched the man go. He had helped, if in a very annoying way that definitely had been primarily intended to only cause harm to Lute. He was just incredibly lucky that his sadism just happened to play into what was necessary to wake Lute up. Still, it was entirely possible he could have used his involvement to ‘accidentally’ make the process fail or taken the opportunity to straight up kill Lute. If anything, he'd at least offhandedly acknowledged that it was important to Charlie… Vaggie still didn't want to give him much credit. Though, now that he had fucked off, that opened them up to another problem.

“Brace yourself,” Vaggie said dryly, it was about the only warning she had the emotional capacity to give.

“Huh-bwuh??” Lute managed, brain likely still sloshing around in its cage based on the way her eyes were still rolling.

A moment later, the two angels were wrapped up in a world crushing hug. Charlie had shed whatever amount of self control she held onto while talking to Alastor and allowed herself the freedom of becoming a blubbering mess. Smushing the angels to her chest, Charlie lifted them clear off the ground and seemed to never want to let go. Poor Lute barely managed a strangled croak, unfortunately Charlie was a bit too in her feelings to register being careful about Lute's various injuries… though the idiot deserved to have her weak points poked and prodded after everything she'd done.

“I-I-I tho-hah-ought y-youuu were d-deaaad!” Bubbering through tears, Charlie continued squeezing her angels with the kind of force that might have compacted coal into diamonds. Used to this and appreciative of having all those annoying emotions pressed out of her, Vaggie simply accepted her fate. Lute, however, was swiftly running towards the upper limit of her capacity to allow physical contact and was starting to squirm. Unfortunately for her, Charlie seemed far superior in strength and Lute didn't have great leverage with one arm.

“What in…damnation are you two… on about?” Lute struggled between desperate gulps of air.

“They’re talking about how you’ve been brain dead for the last hour, dumbass,” Husk added in as he stepped up, a relieved smile on his face.

“Braindead? Don’t make up non… sense…” Lute blinked, looking around as if this was the first time that she was registering that she was back in the hotel, rather than sitting around in the streets of Doomsday. The realization that she had lost time seemed to strike her all at once, making her stop wriggling. Confusion shifted to horror as the implications settled in. “... an hour?”

“Just shy of it.” Vaggie confirmed.

“An-any longer and- and your s-s-soul might’ve… might’ve..” Charlie tried but she couldn’t finish the sentence through her tears, Husk was happy to pick up where she left off.

“Might’ve totally faded away… or been fucked up forever, Charlie’s dad wasn’t totally clear on the details.” Husk stepped over, giving Charlie a soft pat on the shoulder to get her attention away from her big ball of feelings. “Maybe let the girls breathe?” he suggested and Charlie managed a nod, doing her best to set the angels down and let them suck in some air.

“Yeah, I think Cherri and I might have ta call a veto on more of your training sessions if ya gonna fuck yourself up so bad everytime,” Angel commented, walking up to pat Lute on the back as she struggled to get her footing.

“I mean… honestly, it was kinda fun-” Cherri said, but held up her hands when she received very hard glares from Vaggie and Charlie. “But totally unsafe! Not something we should do again… with live ammo anyway.”

Vaggie sighed, shaking her head. She’d have to deal with them later for the pure fact that they were convinced to go along with Lute’s idea. One might think after decades of afterlife, they might develop a stronger concept of common sense… Vaggie wasn’t being entirely fair, they claimed that they were at least hesitant and stopped it from continuing after the bullet. They technically couldn’t be blamed for letting Lute get out of hand with the guitar, they couldn’t have known. 

Lute stood there, expression conflicted as she looked from the Axe which was still stuck in the wall (that was coming out of Lute’s paycheck, not that she’d notice or particularly care) to all the people who were standing around, looking relieved that she was still alive. A conflicted expression crossed over her face but she quickly schooled herself to neutrality, repressing it as was her way. Well, that was at least some solid proof that Lute hadn’t been fundamentally altered in any notable way by this experience. She’d come through whole, unhealthy habits and all. Still, Vaggie’s mind flicked back to that feeling of connection and the visions she saw, the surge of emotion she felt. She’d always known Lute had some pretty deep issues but now she wasn’t sure how deep that rabbit hole of repression went.

“I… I see. The idea of my soul being potentially destroyed is rather troubling but I thank you all for your efforts to preserve me and I’m sorry for all the trouble. I suppose I shall have to be more careful with my training in the fut-” Lute assumed her usual formal posture as she tried to simply brush the whole situation off but apparently Charlie had cried enough to be able to properly speak her mind. 

“No! You’re not going to just walk this off, Lute! You nearly died ! And yeah, it would be one thing if this was just some mess with you misusing your crazy magic guitar. That would totally be just an accident and we can just say ‘oh Lute, be more careful!’ but it wasn’t! Your whole training exercise plan was insane! Live freaking ammunition!? Bombs, guns, and holy weapons! That’s actually insane, you were risking permanent injury or death long before you picked up that guitar. Hell, apparently you got shot in the arm and tried to keep going! Don’t even get me started on that butcher job of self surgery, even with your resilience that’s going to take days to heal right!” Lute staggered at the force of Charlie’s anger, The Princess stomping over to her and unleashing a righteous tirade. It was far from the first time Lute had gotten a lecture from either of them but Charlie usually tended to lean towards an almost ‘gentle parenting’ mindset when it came to this. Not so today. Charlie was getting so into it that her eyes and horns had shifted, honestly Vaggie was worried that she was moments away from breathing fire.“What were you thinking? How could you possibly be that reckless!?”

“... I… uhm-” Lute struggled for words for a moment, staring down the barrel of Charlie’s unique mix of concern and fury. After a beat, Lute straightened her posture and attempted to compose herself. “Ma’am, I was simply trying to… make up for my deficiencies. If I am to do the job you assigned, I need to be capable of protecting the hotel from any possible threat. Becoming more familiar with the common threats of Hell and working to increase my affinity with my relic seemed the most logical path towards that goal.”

“There have to be safer ways to do this kind of training.” Vaggie joined in next to Charlie, giving Lute a stern glare. “Paintball guns or fucking… I don’t know, Cherri looks like she could probably make a confetti bomb-”

“I totally could, twenty minutes tops!” Cherri added cheerfully.

“Thank you. Point is, if you had stopped to really think about it, you could have found a better way to do this.”

“I felt that I would gain more valuable experience if there was a factor of genuine risk. I was fairly confident none of the participants would purposefully try to kill me. A few scrapes and bruises were well worth the price of progress,” Lute attempted but Charlie was having none of her particular brand of logic.

“You. Were. Shot.” Pointing towards the recently stitched wound, exposed by the section of shirt Charlie had to cut away to work. “And rather than stop or call the closest thing you have to a doctor, you cut the bullet out and tried to convince our friends to keep hurting you! What would that even accomplish!?”

“It was only one bullet!” Despite her usual attempts to remain respectful against the princess’ authority, a bit of annoyance was poking through. “Out of dozens of exercises, that was the worst injury I sustained and I was confident that it would not have happened again if we had simply kept going! If the hotel is ever in danger, then our enemies are not going to simply call it quits after dealing one minor injury. You made it my job to protect this place, so if I am to do that then these are the steps I must go through to make sure that I can!”

“If you want to take protecting this place seriously, then you need to survive long enough to actually do it!” Charlie shot back with a snarl. “I might not know much about fighting or anything like that, but I can’t imagine there is much point to training to get stronger if the training kills you before you actually get stronger!”

Lute opened her mouth to argue but faltered, unable to think of any proper response. Vaggie knew Lute all too well, Lute was likely fully aware of how potentially risky everything she’d done was and knew that it would end up upsetting her and Charlie, thus had just wanted to keep the whole event quiet.

“This also goes for your stunt with the guitar. Practicing with it is one thing, but you had to know that you were starting to push well above your limits,” Vaggie said.

“There… might have been some signs.” Lute admitted with a sigh. A hard look crossed her face, her eyes flicking briefly to the guitar again. There seemed to be some specific thought on Lute’s mind but she kept it to herself. That sense of defiance left her, replaced with a look of weakness and vulnerability that was uncommon in Lute. It was a look Vaggie knew well enough. Defeat, but not the kind against some external force but an internal one. “I was simply trying to… I’m not… nevermind. I was short sighted and foolish, unaware my actions would be so upsetting. I apologize and I will try to do better in the future, I swear.”

Charlie and Vaggie exchanged a look. It was rather clear that Lute wasn’t exactly catching onto the actual reason that they were concerned and upset, but Vaggie knew that making that clear to her would be a much longer conversation. As it stood, Lute did seem genuinely apologetic and if she said that she would try to improve then it was as good as done… It was hard to stay annoyed at Lute when she stood there looking like a kicked dog, unaware of exactly why she was being yelled at but apologetic all the same.

“Just… as long as you promise to be more careful in the future,” Charlie sighed, getting an affirmative nod from Lute.

“You’ve been yelled at enough, hopefully you’ve learned something from today. Now, go, get cleaned up and… lie down or something, you nearly died for fucks sake. Just be back down here by six because we’re going to dinner,” Vaggie said, suddenly feeling tired. Honestly, were the situation any different, she might have wanted to just reschedule and spend the evening on something mind numbing like a video game to emotionally recover… but they’d already made the reservation and this was kind of an important day. They had a few hours till dinner which would hopefully be enough to decompress.

“... Dinner? Ah! I wasn’t aware you both planned to take your own day off today as well, I can watch the hotel while you’re both busy and-” Lute predictably came to the wrong conclusion and Vaggie had to cut her off.

“ We are going to dinner, as in you, me, and Charlie. No questions, just go get cleaned up.”

“... As you say, ma’am.” Lute looked very confused and mildly suspicious but obediently she turned and began making her way towards the elevator.

Despite everything that had happened today, Vaggie felt a small smirk crack at her mouth as she watched the woman walk away. Any minute now… there it is. Lute had made it nearly to the elevator when she paused, having reached for the button with an arm that was not currently present. The woman muttered a curse to herself, turned around to awkwardly make her way back towards where everyone was standing. Choosing mercy, rather than make Lute ask, Vaggie gestured to where Lute’s prosthetic had been left on the couch. With a muttered word of thanks, Lute picked it up and had to fiddle with it to get it back up her hanging sleeve and onto her shoulder. Once it was reattached and activated, she marched away with a light blush of embarrassment dusting her cheeks. Refusing to look back at anyone, she called and stepped into the elevator… then held the door open, holding her hand out to the side. With a quick flash, the Guitar disappeared from where it was lodged in the wall and reappeared in her hand. Finally with all her affairs in order, the doors closed and Lute was out of sight.

That woman was a mess… but she was their mess, for better or worse.

Still, one troublesome employee dealt with, three to go. Vaggie turned around just in time to find Husk, Angel, and Cherri all attempting to sneak off towards the bar. They paused, guilty looks on their faces as they realized both that they’d been caught and that Vaggie wasn’t exactly pleased with them. She barely even needed to say anything, just give them ‘the look’. They folded pretty quickly.

“In our defense, we didn’t know exactly how far she was gonna take things when she dragged us out to Doomsday.” Husk took off his hat, nervously combing his fingers through the thick tuft of fur between his ears. Vaggie very much pretended not to notice the way she could just barely make out how Angel’s set of lower eyes shifted to watch Husk as he nervously combed at his hair. Angel struggled to keep his eyes off Husk at the best of times, predictably he couldn’t keep them off the old man in the middle of getting a lecture. There were more important things to focus on rather than some dense idiots having a seemingly endless ‘will they, won’t they’ composed of longing looks and repressed emotions, like yelling at these three morons for nearly letting Lute self-destruct on their watch.

Vaggie’s intent to dive right into said lecture was sadly derailed when Charlie placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze… Vaggie tried to stay mad, she really did, but the emotional exhaustion of the day meant she really didn’t have enough gas in the tank. Charlie knew this and happily took over. Charlie was a gentler hand, but she had learned how better to work with Sinners these last few months.

“We’re not mad… Just disappointed,” Charlie said calmly but firmly, her words quickly and efficiently devastating the three sinners.

“... That’s somehow worse, why is that worse?” Cherri groaned.

“Again, I was totally against this shit from tha start. Not our fault that Lute’s fuckin’ crazy!” Angel complained, crossing his many arms with an annoyed look.

“Lute’s decisions were her own fault… but you three did kinda enable her,” Charlie pointed out, making the three wince in unison. They knew she was right. “Even if you acknowledged that her ideas were crazy, you did still go along with it.”

“We went out of our way to stop her after she got shot, couldn’t have known about the whole guitar thing,” Husk tried but Vaggie shook her head.

“We agree that the guitar thing wasn’t your fault, that’s all on Lute, but you guys really should have called us beforehand. After she got shot, after she cut the bullet out, especially after she passed out. You weren’t aware her soul was on a timer or anything, but that should have been a sign to ask for help.”

“... Yeah, yeah you’re right. We got… a bit swept up,” Husk admitted.

“I’m not a snitch or nothin-” Cherri began with an annoyed look but her tone changed rather quickly from the combined force of Vaggie and Charlie’s glare. “But things did get outta hand, we… maybe shoulda said something before it got bad.”

“For a psychopath, Lute can be pretty convincin’ but it is on us for not callin’ ya after she dropped. Sorry.” Angel’s earlier attitude dropped, looking apologetic.

“Lute’s deranged confidence has that effect on people,” Vaggie sighed. Lute did have a certain way about her, marching into situations without doubt or hesitation, it was all too easy to get swept up in her wake. Unfortunately, without someone guiding the force that was Lute, the woman had a rather bad habit of crashing and burning.

“Right. Everything worked out this time and thankfully Lute is okay, but I hope we all learned something today. Next time Lute tries to do something that sounds downright suicidal, you guys are going to call us, right?” Clapping her hands, Charlie looked from each of the sinners and got a solemn nod from each of them. “Good, now, this last half hour has been… profoundly stressful , so we won’t keep you guys here. I know you guys are stressed and tired too, so go get some rest.”

After dismissing the sinners, Charlie watched them walk off for a second before a look of exhaustion fell over her face. She trudged a few steps before practically collapsing back into the couch. Vaggie spared a moment to look across the room, seeing that Niffty was already busily cleaning up the dirt from the busted plant. She’d even recruited Frank to help dispose of the large broken chunks of the pot. Industrious little creature, that Niffty. Giving the little woman a tired smile and a thumbs up, Vaggie dropped onto the couch next to her girlfriend. Immediately, Charlie pulled her against her chest, gently squishing Vaggie like a stress toy.

“... She nearly died. Like… I mean her body would be… but her soul would’ve just been gone,” Charlie managed with a quiver of emotion in her voice.

“I know.”

“I… It was so hard, losing Pentious, even if he turned out okay. I don’t know if I can… handle losing anymore friends.” Charlie squeezed a little tighter, not uncomfortably so. “I haven’t known Lute nearly as long and we’ve had so many problems in the past but- I mean, she’s really changed and we’ve started getting along and-”

“I know,” Vaggie said, hugging Charlie back. She knew exactly how Charlie felt. Lute had crashed and burned into their lives but she had a way of growing on people. A bit like a tumor. The shock of almost losing her had hit Vaggie deeply and seemed to have gotten to Charlie nearly as badly. They didn’t say anything for a while, just holding each other and quietly working through their own emotions. One could just hope that after some time to calm down, they could get through the rest of the evening without any more drama. Hopefully end it on a happy note if everything worked out.

“Vaggie?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“... Do we need to get Lute a therapist?” Charlie asked, eyeing the gash in the wall left from her axe. Vaggie considered it, thinking through Lute’s self-destructive actions and adding that to the boiling rage that Vaggie had felt from that brief moment of connection.

“... Probably. Problem is finding one that’s prepared to handle her particular brand of crazy.”

“Yeah… that might be a challenge.”

Chapter Text

It wasn't that serious. Lute didn't think so anyway.

Okay, so she nearly died or had her soul destroyed or something. She wasn't exactly sure, everyone had been too busy yelling at her to properly. Something to do when she passed out over getting perhaps a little ambitious in her use of the guitar. Not exactly the first time that she nearly died, though people had reacted very differently this time. Waking up in the hotel after her fall from grace, she had been met with mostly a strange mix of caution, concern, and contempt. Waking up in the lobby today, she had been met with a splitting headache and quite a lot of yelling… some smiling and relief as well, which was exceedingly odd. 

The yelling was… well, if Lute was being honest with herself, it was deserved. The training exercise had made sense to her, gaining experience from reacting to genuine risk was the best way to learn anything but it wasn’t the only way. Slower, safer training exercises could yield results as well despite her impatience. She even had legitimate reasons for wanting fast results. Her brush with Vox was proof enough- taking the brunt of his electrical discharge alone had nearly dropped her. She wouldn’t last in a real fight unless she made major changes. He wasn’t even the greatest potential threat out there! Despite that, The Princess was right. Training and improvement was pointless if it ended up killing her. Lute’s sudden demise would leave the hotel less safe and ruin all the effort that the Princess and Vaggie had invested in her. No wonder they were upset with her.

Once again, Lute’s seemingly endless stupidity nearly ruined everything and she needed to be saved at the eleventh hour by people willing to take pity on her.

With a weary sigh, Lute turned towards the mirror to inspect herself. What she saw there was not the broken wretch she witnessed on her first morning in the hotel, but was not much improved. This uniform was definitely not salvageable, streaked with dirt and soot, riddles with dozens of small holes and blood stains, and the Princess had to rip out part of the shoulder to get at her wound. Speaking of which, not a good looking injury, practically guaranteed a scar. Mere months ago her angelic skin had been practically pristine but if things keep up at this rate then Lute might end up nothing but scar tissue. Lastly her face, not in terrible condition aside from her hair being messed up and the massive bruise on her cheek. Damnable demon, she’d find a way to get back at him for that… One thing at a time. She was in desperate need of a shower; apparently she had places to be this afternoon.

As her shirt and vest were beyond repair, Lute opted for the quickest route to strip. Grabbing a fistful of the fabric, she simply ripped the garments off her chest with only mild discomfort as the fabric tugged at her wounds before obediently shredding under her strength. Eyeing the ruined fabric with a sigh, Lute tossed it unceremoniously into the bin. At least she’d had the foresight to grab several copies of the outfit. The pants… might be saved? Only a few small tears. Hopefully the Princess’ ability to sew wounds shut also translated to mending fabric. Those and the boots came off in a more careful fashion. A good polishing would have the boots presentable by dinner. Before she made her way off to the shower, Lute fished through the pants pockets, retrieving her rolled up silk tie. Finding it undamaged, she sighed with relief. Small miracles.

Lute set the water to near scalding temperatures as she set herself to scrubbing away the mistakes of the day. She’d always enjoyed the feeling, riding just on the edge of pain as her body adjusted to the temperature. Good for clearing her mind, helping her think. Adam had always been one to prefer a long soak in the bath, at least until Lute had introduced the man to the wonders of shower sex towards the end of the 19th century… though he still preferred the water to be lukewarm. Sighing with frustration, Lute returned to scrubbing in earnest in an attempt to divert her thoughts from that particular subject. The lingering grief over Adam’s death and the reminder of exactly how long it had been since she’d gotten laid made for an unpleasantly unique mix of being sad and horny. Better to distract herself with reflecting on the events of the day and how badly she had fucked up. Not exactly a pleasant line of thought but more tolerable than the confusing alternative.

The day had been something of a failure by every conceivable metric. While not the primary objective of the day, Lute had… some hope of improving her relationship with the hotel’s sinners. She’d rather miscalculated on whether or not they would find her idea to be ‘fun’. Cherri Bomb had seemed to have something of a good time but Husk and Angel Dust had been less enthusiastic. She’d threatened Cherri, ignored Angel’s objections, and argued with Husk about whether or not he cheated. Worst yet, they’d apparently been stuck with the task of dragging her guitar and near corpse all the way back to the hotel, which they surely resented her for. The training itself had been a decent learning experience, but she still felt that she could have made more appreciable gains if she’d been allowed to keep at it for at least a few more hours. Vaggie and the Princess seemed intent on holding a hard ban against further attempts at such exercises, so that had turned to something of a dead end. Working with the Axe had started out good, improving her ability to manipulate it significantly but…

Lute’s hands fell to her sides as she let the almost scalding water run over her. The events of the day had made her capabilities painfully clear. Even attempting to access the upper ranges of her relic’s abilities, powers that Adam had once used so casually, had come dangerously close to destroying her. Her fists tightened as she had to push down a surge of emotion, as much as she wanted to punch a wall she had to remind herself that cracking the shower tiles would only get her in more trouble than she was already in. Weakness was an unpleasant pill to swallow at the best of times. She’d been forced to acknowledge the weakness of losing her invulnerability, but this was… She was too weak to use the guitar to its full potential. It only made sense, the weapon was designed for an archangel and Lute was a mere Exorcist. Lute might have been exceptional by the standards of her kind but she was confined by the limitations of her class of angel, her soul simply lacked the capacity to fuel the weapon. She was a child playing with a weapon she could never hope to wield properly. Being shackled by such insurmountable limitations was… was… were they actually as insurmountable as she assumed?

Lute’s hand drifted up to her cheek. The hot water had helped soothe the aching bruise but as she prodded at it, it already felt less painful than should be expected. Her ability to recover from injury had increased significantly during her time in Hell, quite the blessing due to how often she ended up taking a beating… except it was rather the opposite of a blessing, literally speaking. Blessings were the domain of the divine, this gift had come about through the influence of the dark powers of Hell. She and Vaggie were not yet truly fallen angels but there was no denying that they had both been changed by their time in Hell. 

Fallen angels. It was a taboo topic in Heaven. It was improper to speak of the legions that had followed The Morningstar into the abyss… but whispers spoke of even lesser angels embracing sin and dark powers as they were twisted into mighty demons. Such tales were intended to be horror stories but the promise of power was very real. Lute had already been cast down for her crimes, she would never again know the grace of Heaven. She had been given duty and purpose in the service of the Devil’s daughter, a duty she was clearly lacking the ability to perform properly. Only luck seemed to be holding greater threats at bay, how long would that last? How long until some foolish overlord or jealous royal demon set their sights on what the Princess was trying to build? Could Lute afford to simply accept her weakness or did she seek… alternative methods.

It would be inevitable, wouldn’t it? A few weeks in Hell had left their mark, how might she change in the years, decades, and centuries to come? Falling would only be a matter of time no matter how much she might resist it… so why resist at all? It wasn’t as if she was unaware of her sin. She might have denied it at first but wrath was not a particularly subtle emotion, always needing to be pushed down and contained. Was it worth it to attempt to contain her wrath? Why not pry up the boards, let the water flow? Embrace it, give herself to it and choose to fall? She would become something better, something stronger. Unbound by the limitations forced upon her. 

Memories poked at the edge of her mind. Countless battles where she indulged the rage, drinking deep of those dark waters. Feeling it boiling through her veins as she slaughtered all in her path. The thrill of battle, the satisfaction of victory. It had always burned hottest when she dropped into Hell, when she cast aside any attempts at restraint. She could have that again. Cast off the shackles, embrace the beast, slake its thirst with the blood of the Princess’ foes, burning hot and flowing over her like the scalding water on her bare skin. All she had to do was-

Lute abruptly ripped open the shower curtain with nearly enough force to tear it. Uncaring of the mess she made, Lute bolted over to the toilet and barely managed to get it open as she violently emptied her stomach of the little that had been in it. Lute’s body shivered as she gripped the porcelain bowl and not just from the chill of cool air that rapidly replaced the shower’s heat. Horror and revulsion churned in her stomach, making her dry heave again.

“No…. Not like that.” Lute managed.

Maybe falling was inevitable, maybe it was only a matter of time but something deep inside her knew that if she had continued down that line of thought she would have become something monstrous. Lute may have been cast down for her crimes, but she did not resent Heaven nor hate her angelic nature. She'd accepted her future in Hell, accepted her position at the Princess and Vaggie's side because she saw merit in their ideas, not for want of power. This was a path she was walking because she didn't want to be a monster anymore. If she embraced the rage and set it free with no method of controlling it, then she was sure what came through on the other side would be unrecognizable. No, she would not let herself fall so recklessly, not while she still had her ideals and duty. 

Another shiver wracked her body, prompting her to stagger to her feet and seek the comfort of a towel to wrap around her naked form. That had been… terrifying. Mostly due to the fact that it had just been her own thoughts. No malicious demon or otherworldly force whispering in her ear, just her own mind descending from one thought to the next. It had seemed terribly logical, such an easy and natural conclusion to make. Power would solve her problems and all the power she would ever need was there for the taking… yet it came at the cost of her humanity… angelity? Damn it, can't she have one internal monologue without running into some inane linguistic issue?

The Princess and Vaggie were not the type to desire having a monster at their beck and call, notable exception of Alastor aside, they had made their position against Lute returning to murderous habits very clear. Such methods were to be the last resort, not the first. They were already considerably upset at her poor choices, Lute absolutely surrendering any shred of her self control to become an abomination of purest wrath was likely not a choice they'd appreciate. She'd been yelled at enough today. 

It was their right to be upset with her, loathe as she was to admit it. Contract or no, Lute hadn't exactly turned out to be a sterling employee and apparently couldn't be even trusted not to self-terminate when not being directly supervised. The reaction she was met with upon awakening had been distinctly more intense than any of the mild complaints she'd gotten before now. To be fair, her sudden death would be a significant waste of investment and time.

That would make sense. More sense than the looks of concern or wetness of tears that she had surely imagined. Flickers of a deluded mind as her soul resynced with her body or something.

She’d have to do better to make it up to them after this particular upset. The best way to do that was to start in the moment, make sure she was good and pristine for dinner, and try not to bring the mood of the evening down. Pulling out some fresh, non-shredded clothes to get dressed in, Lute momentarily considered how strange that they had invited her to dinner. It felt a bit of an odd request. Lute didn’t often have any interest in leaving the hotel, today having been a rare exception that ended in disaster. Vaggie also confirmed that this was not her and the Princess’ intended date night nor could Lute imagine they wanted her to be present for such an event. That didn’t leave a lot of good reasons to specifically invite her. Perhaps it was simply some kind of business meeting with someone important, an overlord or a royal demon perhaps, and they wanted Lute as additional security? That made the most sense… Even if Lute had just proved that she was hardly capable of dealing with such threats anymore, she could at least stand around and look menacing.

Lute paused as she was midway through buttoning her shirt… There was an alternative reason for her to be asked to a private dinner. Was it not common practice to attempt to soften the blow of bad news by delivering it over a meal of this fashion? That seemed like something the Princess would certainly do. Was there some unknown emergency she needed to be warned of? No, they wouldn’t keep that a secret from the rest of the staff. Might they be sending her away? One too many failures and they were sending her off to a lower ring to serve one of the Sins instead? Lute’s heart sank as she half heartedly fiddled with her buttons. The idea that she might be sent away made her feel particularly miserable for reasons that were hard to put into words, likely because she’d already had to deal with being cast out once… Yes, that was probably it.

She stood there a few moments, thinking over that potential scenario… No, she wouldn’t just take that lying down! She shook herself, casting off the miserable thought with force. She was still under contract, it was highly unlikely that they would simply want to be rid of her until that was up, she was still useful so long as the Princess had power over her. One did not trade away such a useful tool so lightly. Even if they might consider it, Lute would simply convince them otherwise. Perhaps she was not always the perfect tool, but she could be. She would find ways around her limitations and prove her worth, she would not be cast aside again.

Determined, Lute set about getting ready. Dressed in a fresh uniform, boots and prosthetic polished like new, and she made… a valiant attempt at an eldredge knot, but after a half hour of attempts, she gave up and settled on a slightly lopsided cross knot. Knot tying still evaded her, she had no idea how the Princess managed to get such clean and precise knots. Still, aside from that hiccup, Lute was cleaned up and ready to go in fairly short order. Tapping her phone and frowning at the digital display she… still had two hours left until dinner. Damn her efficiency.

Needing something to occupy her time, Lute eyed the golden guitar lying on her bed. There wasn’t much else to do. She couldn’t patrol the hotel as it was still her day off and Vaggie had very specifically instructed Lute to go relax. Stepping over to the bed, Lute reached for her guitar but her hand hovered just over the strings.

She hadn’t really given it much thought earlier when she launched it at Alastor or carried it up to her room… but this guitar had nearly killed her. Due to her misuse, despite even the guitar itself trying to stop her, the incident was entirely on her hands but she still hesitated. Her thoughts from the shower dared to raise their ugly heads once more, Lute was not capable of truly using this weapon. To continue keeping it by her side would mean accepting that it would never be used to its full potential or that attempts to access that hidden potential might mean her demise. She may have claimed it as her own, but did she really have the right? It was a relic handmade for Adam, an Archangel. Who was she to use it? Some half fallen piece of trash that deserved nothing.

Lute almost pulled away, but she stopped herself. She might not think of herself as worthy… but the guitar did. Relic weapons were not truly intelligent but it was well known they were fully capable of rejecting attempts to bond with them. That thought gave her some small comfort, she might not know why but the guitar had accepted her. She might not be worthy now, but hopefully she could make that acceptance mean something one day.

Lifting the guitar, light as ever in her hands, she was glad to feel no resistance to it. She was worried the thing might somehow be upset with her for forcing its limits earlier in the day but it still felt pleasantly warm in her hands. It was good to play music, even if she made no attempt at any particular song or room shaking riffs, just being able to sit there and idle away the hours as she softly plucked notes was enough. It helped ease the tension and drive away the unpleasant thoughts for a time.

—

Lute had almost hoped that the subject of her recent near demise would be a topic that was tensely ignored as everyone attempted to force themselves to have a good time. Unfortunately, this was not the case. Vaggie and the Princess seemed rather intent on continuing the conversation and though her tone was considerably less explosive than earlier, the topic still mixed poorly with Lute's stomach… or that might have been car sickness. Razzle seemed to be driving at a more sane speed than usual, perhaps in the interest of keeping the limo’s interior clean, but Lute still clutched at the seat, her stomach lurching at every bump and pothole. 

“Sorry, I know you don’t like car rides but the restaurant is all the way across town, still not good enough with portals and such to pop us there and back,” Charlie apologized for what felt like the dozenth time. Come to think of it, she was probably the one to instruct Razzle to go slow, otherwise that speed demon would be tearing down the highway, clean interior be damned. The Princess’ concern was at least a nice sentiment.

“I will… endure, your Highness,” Lute managed, feeling oddly relieved that she had already emptied her stomach earlier. It didn’t necessarily stop her stomach from bouncing around inside of her, but it made it much easier to tolerate when there was nothing to spill out. Why, of all things, was motion sickness her great weakness? Lute could shrug off wounds that would cripple a lesser warrior but a bumpy road and an upset tummy was somehow able to render her nearly immobile? Her stomach had never been an issue while flying… but then again, when she was flying it was under her own power, perhaps being at the mercy of someone else was somehow part of the problem? A particularly hard bump had Lute straining to keep from gagging and forced her to give up on her contemplations, choosing instead to focus on the dream of some distant future in which the Princess ascended to Queen of all of Hell and Lute would be able to beg her to focus all her royal attention on fixing this city’s godforsaken potholes.

“Are you sure that you’re alright?” Vaggie asked, getting a withering stare from Lute in return. “I meant aside from the obvious. No lingering effects from the whole soul depletion thing? No strange feelings, weird magic stuff, or… personality changes?” There was a slight emphasis on the last one, Vaggie giving her an odd look that Lute couldn’t read.

“Why would my personality change?” That sounded particularly absurd. Her understanding of this ‘soul depletion’ thing was extremely sparse, but as much as she figured her soul was a flame that had nearly gone out and they went through some convoluted ritual to reignite it. It was still her soul, just flicked off and on again, there was no reason why that might alter anything.

“Just- I don’t know, souls are fucking weird. You never know!” Vaggie answered a bit quickly… Was that a flush on her cheeks? Surely that had to be agitation, not embarrassment. 

“Dad implied that some steps of the process can have unknown side effects,” the Princess said, giving Vaggie a very pointed look. Something passed between the two in that look, some unspoken conversation that only they could decipher. A sign that the two had grown very close in the years they spent together, a deep understanding and trust between them that allowed them to communicate so much without words… whether or not they agreed with each other was a different matter entirely, based on the way the Princess gave a slight eye roll before she settled her attention back on Lute. “So, do you remember… anything from when you were out of it?”

Leaning back in her seat, Lute tried to take comfort in the support offered by the seat and ignore her fragile stomach as she pondered on that brief bit of time after she blacked out. She had been told that her body had remained alive and functional, yet utterly without consciousness and obedient of all commands given. A frightening thought. There was… some time between when she dropped to the ground and when she woke up, but it had felt short. Seconds, maybe minutes, it was hard to tell. Certainly not the near hour of time she apparently lost.

“After I felt energy leaving my body, it felt like every part of my mind and body was shutting down piece by piece. Like lights in a building being clicked off room by room. Everything went numb and dark. If I were to give it a kind description, it was a lot like sleeping without dreaming… Some part of me knew I needed to wake up, but I couldn’t muster the will to do so. I think there might have been a moment where someone called my name? I heard them but couldn’t respond. Next there was a clenching, tugging sensation followed by a feeling of warmth, of connection to something…” Lute trailed off, lingering on that small fragment of memory. It was strange, contradictory almost. The connection had felt warm and it was a point of light in that darkness, but the thing she was connected to had been cold. Bitterly cold, a deep black void of judgemental self-loathing. The more she thought about it, the clearer the feeling became even if it had only lasted a moment. It felt so odd, how could something that at first seemed so warm and radiant feel so desperately sad? About then, she noticed that the others were staring at her, she’d gotten rather lost in her thoughts again. “Yes, well, after that it all came together rather quickly. I was thrust back in my body just to register the devilish grin of the great red asshole before I was flying across the room and hitting the wall. After some mild disorientation, I can’t say I’ve felt anything particularly out of the ordinary.”

That last bit both was and wasn’t true. She didn’t feel now was the best time to mention her near loss of self-control, but even she could tell that was born more out of her pre-existing feelings of inadequacy and poor attempts at managing her anger issues than any weird side effects of the soul reigniting process. That might be a conversation to have on a later date when everyone was in a better mood… or potentially something to keep locked away in her core from now until doomsday. The second option did sound rather appealing. 

“... I guess let's just call it a good sign you held out long enough to feel something,” Vaggie said, seeming to become very interested in her phone.

“Well, I guess just keep an eye on it… or well, that phrase doesn’t really work, uh, I guess if you ever feel anything particularly out of the ordinary, please tell us.”

“Of course, ma’am, I will make a point to notify you of any strange events going forward.” Perhaps such tricks of wording were in poor taste, but it was for the best. It was better to simply move on from this discussion. Lute, being painfully aware of every movement of the godforsaken metal box she was trapped in, could feel the vehicle slowing as it made a few last turns. A glance out the window showed them pulling up to what must be the restaurant of choice. Thank god, any chance to get out of this thing.

As the limo slowed to a final stop, the three of them finally got a chance to step out of the car and onto the blissfully still pavement. Oh, solid ground, Lute would never take it for granted again. She heard a slight chuckle as Vaggie patted her on the back, looking up to see the other woman smirking at her. 

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it. Just wait until we need to make a nice long trip to another circle or down to the other rings,” Vaggie said, eye glinting with mildly sadistic glee. “Haven’t yet been myself, but I believe that the Morningstar personal transport tunnel is about… two hours’ drive to go down even one ring?”

“... Why… in all creation, wouldn’t they just take the fucking elevator?” Lute managed, holding her stomach and trying to force it to stillness when it rebelled at the very thought of being trapped in a vehicle for so long.

“Obviously so Charlie still has access to the limo to get around the other rings. Each ring is pretty damn big, you expect her to walk from city to city?”

Lute glared at her, opening her mouth to decry that as stupid… but she really couldn’t. While Lucifer could likely travel around all of Hell with a mere thought, the Princess’ ability for teleportation was fairly limited. She would need transportation, and it was better that it be done in a vehicle that was verified as safe and only handled by her personal staff. Too many chances for dangerous intervention in public transportation or a vehicle being provided at her destination. While Lute doubted any sinner or demon would dare to lay a hand on the king or queen, arranging an ‘accident’ for the princess was still a dangerous act of treason but there was a slightly better chance of getting away with it… So, yes, it was better to keep to her personal vehicle for travel, no matter the additional travel time. Damn it… hopefully it would be a good while until it would be necessary to escort her on such trips. Vaggie just gave Lute a satisfied little smile when she was unable to form any sort of comment. Time in Hell had certainly given Vaggie a taste for schadenfreude.

Their conversation was time enough to deliver a few instructions to Razzle who hung around long enough to use his little hoof to make the ‘I’m watching you gesture’ at Lute before speeding away in the limo. She often didn’t know where she stood with Razzle. The little goat had a very reasonable grudge in regards to Lute killing its twin, but mostly seemed to be giving Lute the opportunity to change and hadn’t made any attempt to murder her again. He seemed to have settled for a different kind of torture, one that was born when he learned of Lute’s inability to handle car rides. They certainly weren’t friends but… maybe he didn’t hate her anymore? Unfortunately she was not well tuned to understand the inner thoughts of a goat.

“Alrighty! Razzle is going off to do his own thing, but he usually stays close by if I need to call him. Usually no more than five minutes for pick up,” Charlie explained as she bounced over, grinning down at the two angels. Vaggie would obviously know this information but Lute had only gone out on the town with the Princess one other time and she appreciated the explanation. Knowing that would help her plan should some variety of quick exit be necessary. “We will have as long as we want to enjoy a nice dinner, no interruptions, no emergencies, no nothing.”

“Be careful about jinxing it, Hun,” Vaggie said, taking her girlfriend's hand as they angled towards the restaurant. Lute didn’t want to say she believed in such silly superstitions but her track record with luck wasn’t exactly stellar. Lucky enough to stay alive, not much else. Playing the role of bodyguard, Lute strolled along behind them. 

Lute glanced up, taking in the restaurant they were to be dining at. They were in the far end of the central district, an area that was not properly owned by any overlords but something akin to neutral ground… though the type likely studded with landmines should anyone get a little adventurous. The relative peace and proximity to the Heaven Embassy meant the buildings here were a bit older and of higher quality, helped by the fact that they likely weren’t reduced to rubble on the regular. Still, as nice as the buildings were, space was a premium in the central most part of the city. Cramped walls of buildings, divided into a variety of different shops, businesses and restaurants. Each trying to draw the eye with unique storefronts and architectural styles. The building they were walking towards had the advantage of taking up an entire street corner rather than merely a thin slot, its exterior modeled to resemble the french baroque style. Always hard to tell if it had been built in that time period or if it was merely mimicking the style to look fancy. The name, displayed proudly in golden letters standing over a set of elegantly carved oak doors, surprisingly made Lute give an audible chuckle.

“Pain et Cirques? The owner must have… quite the interesting sense of humor,” Lute commented, thinking over the implications of that in Hell of all places. Oddly fitting.

“Sir Gilles is an acquired taste, a bit strange but he runs a fine restaurant,” the Princess commented. “You’ll probably get to see him when we get inside, he usually greets me whenever I arrive.” Finally, someone that knew proper decorum. It was only right that the owner of such a business would take the time to personally greet someone as high profile as the Princess of Hell… though he likely only went through the effort to make sure that well treated wealthy clients would speak favorably to their wealthy friends, not out of actual respect. Better than nothing though.

“Sir? Is he knighted?”

“I asked the same thing, He was knighted in life but it's not like any demon royalty has reinstated his knighthood or anything. The man just seems fond of the title.” Vaggie explained.

“A little bit of respect costs us nothing,” the Princess hummed. Lute personally disagreed that such a title would carry any weight if one was no longer alive to serve the crown they were knighted to and no knight had the right to claim that title if they were no longer in service… but it wasn’t her place to argue.

A few bored attendants perked up to attention when they recognized the Princess approaching, one darting off likely to alert their boss. They’d at least had the good sense to be prepared, Lute had heard Vaggie mention that they were here for a reservation. Moments later, a tall Sinner swept around the corner with a dramatic flourish, moving smoothly into an extravagant bow. The man had a devilish appearance, curled horns poking out from what seemed to be a rather unflattering bowl cut, his facial hair was much better groomed with a clean looking moustache and beard. Lute might have mistaken the man for some kind of random hellborn if not for the distinct difference of his arms, which Lute assumed to be a pair of black and gold metallic gauntlets that clashed rather harshly with his otherwise modern style of dress but closer inspection revealed the gauntlets were fused to his flesh.

“Ah, Madame Morningstar! Always such a radiant pleasure for you to grace my humble establishment, it has been some time since you last graced my doorstep.” The man, Sir Gilles apparently, took the Princess’ hand and gave a light kiss on her knuckles. She looked rather used to this kind of attention and gave a slight chuckle at the gesture but Lute noticed the way Vaggie visibly tensed at the display. Lute couldn’t blame her really, it was technically a perfectly acceptable form of greeting but it felt overly familiar and Vaggie likely didn’t appreciate people getting their lips near her girlfriend in any context. Even Lute found herself having to forcibly relax her fist, the urge to punch the man was immense. He just felt… slimy.

“Good to see you as well, hope I’m not interrupting business or anything.” Though she kept her eyes on the sinner, The Princess gave Vaggie’s hand a small comforting squeeze. Vaggie relaxed a bit, still looking somewhat grumpy but several steps down from stabbing the man. 

“Of course not, of course not! I always welcome your business, especially when you bring such lovely guests! Miss Vaggie, it is always good to see the dear princess’ paramour.” The man took Vaggie’s hand in the same fashion, but Vaggie gently pulled away before he could lean forward to kiss her hand. He played it off well, but there was definitely a slight twitch of his eyebrow at being snubbed. Attempting to move on, he shifted towards Lute. “And you, my dear lady, last but certainly not least! I do believe that I haven’t had the good pleasure of meeting… you…”

The man’s voice trailed off after he gave Lute his full attention, red eyes widening suddenly as he looked at Lute very intently. It was like he recognized her, but Lute was very confident that she’d never met the man. Perhaps he’d had a close encounter with her during her exorcist days? It had been fairly rare for her to take her mask off but it had happened enough that some might have seen her face. She had also appeared on Hell’s news at least twice with the battle at the hotel and her involvement in the grand opening. 

“... Are you well? My presence seems to have upset you,” Lute asked, eying him warily. Her voice seemed to briefly shock him out of his momentary stupor, the man having to take a moment to master his emotions before returning to his usual confidence.

“Oh no, no. Not at all my fair lady, simply a case of mistaken identity. Nothing of importance.” Laughing heartily, he seemed to be back to normal. Lute attempted to get ahead of the man by offering her hand for a handshake rather than his habitual kissing routine, but he deliberately made no move to touch her. If anything he shifted back slightly. Well, point towards the man possibly having some past encounter with her as an exorcist, he seemed afraid to touch her, though he was doing his best to remain polite and respectable so she’d give him credit for that. “We have yet to be introduced, you may know me as Sir Gilles, how might I address you dear lady?”

“Lute. Charmed to meet you.” She wasn’t charmed even a little, but she’d been through enough formal events with Adam to have a good grasp on the kind of things that were polite to say in this setting. This seemed to be enough for the man as he gave a solemn nod before straightening up and turning towards the wait staff.

“Well? What are you all waiting for? Our guests are clearly hungry, it is poor form to keep such distinguished guests waiting. Prepare our finest table, the one by the corner window should sufficient,” Sir Gilles said, making a show of ordering around his employees, who readily scattered at his command, save for one sinner who stepped up and quietly whispered to the man in French, likely as an attempt to keep the conversation between themselves.

"Ah, monsieur, il y a encore des invités à cette table-" the waiter attempted to explain, but Sir Gilles gripped the man’s shoulder with his metallic hands and squeezed just hard enough to make the man tremble slightly.

"J'ai dit, mets la table. Pas de questions. Alors libère de l'espace dans la cuisine, je cuisinerai ce soir." He spoke in a clipped tone as he shoved the waiter off, who bowed repeatedly before rushing off to go take care of the task he’d been given. Lute raised an eyebrow, feelingly moderately impressed. The man was (literally) heavy handed but he was committed to treating royalty with proper respect. He turned back to their group with his trademark smile. “Just give us a few moments and we will have everything prepared.”

“That’s- uhm… fine, thank you?” The Princess blinked. “We’re fine with a slight delay,” she assured him, and he gave a polite bow before turning towards the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves and starting a tirade of furious French as he disappeared within. 

“... What just happened?” Vaggie asked, leaning towards Lute.

“The man simply seems intent on providing us a quality dining experience. About time some sinners showed proper respect for Miss Morningstar’s station,” Lute summarized, getting a raised eyebrow from Vaggie.

“I really need to brush up on my French, I didn’t really catch any of that other than there being something wrong with our table,” The Princess commented, scratching at the side of her face in thought as she looked out towards the kitchen.

“You speak French?” Lute asked with some sudden interest.

“Not much, I spent some time trying to pick up a few human languages when I shifted towards starting the hotel. Trying to relate to humans and all, I’m not like, fluent in anything but I know the basics of a few languages. Been working on getting better at Spanish for Vaggie.”

“Y te amo por esoy” Vaggie chuckled, leaning up to give her girlfriend a kiss on the cheek. Lute just rolled her eyes. Learning other languages was something of a waste of time, she still considered her own penchant for French to be something of a bad habit. Pretty much everyone spoke English, so knowing that was enough. Anything else was wasted effort…. Though perhaps it might be good for security reasons to communicate with Vaggie or the Princess in less obvious ways.

They were not kept waiting long, shortly after a rather agitated looking couple was shooed out of the building the waiter returned and escorted them to their table. Their table was on the upper floor of the restaurant above the entrance of the building. Spaced away from the rest of the guests, sat neatly at the corner and offered a nice view of the city. Lute supposed it would have been an especially nice seat in somewhere like France but even if the angle was nice the view was…. Well, this was the nicer part of Pentagram City, but you were still likely to catch sight of a mugging during your drinks. That probably passed for entertainment for some sinners. 

The staff was going above and beyond to be accommodating and Lute was trying very hard to not be suspicious about the whole affair. Yes, this was the kind of behavior that normal people should display while serving royalty but she’d grown rather used to the flippant attitudes of most sinners, rarely taking their jobs or things like rank seriously. The Princess and Vaggie had apparently been here before, so this being some elaborate trap was unlikely. This Sir Gilles simply must have his staff very well trained, likely on threat of force, which Lute approved of. 

A very nice looking charcuterie board was placed down before they even had a chance to order and they were asked about their choice of wines. Lute was hesitant about ordering any alcohol for fear of being impaired and unable to perform her duties but she was less than subtly reminded that she was not, in fact, on duty as a bodyguard right now. Sighing, Lute barely glanced at the very long and complex looking list of wines. This, at least, she was prepared for. Rather than the usual issue of picking from an absurd number of choices, she opted for the trick she had picked up when dining at nice restaurants with Adam, asking for the chef’s recommendation of red. Vaggie glanced at her, knowing what she was doing but choosing to not comment as she ordered a provence rosé and the Princess ordered a glass of champagne.

“... This seems pedantic, but most wines are named for the region they were made in, shouldn’t wines made in hell have different names?” Lute asked once the waiters wandered off with promises of returning with drinks and salads.

“Well, there are plenty of hell made wines, but part of what makes this restaurant so special is that they import their wines from the living world. People pay a lot for authenticity and nostalgia,” The Princess explained, casually reaching over and spearing a slice of prosciutto with her claw.

“... Surely that’s a joke.”

“I was surprised as well, smuggled goods from the mortal realm is big business down here. Before you ask, I’ve tried to look into it but haven’t had any luck, they take their smuggling seriously,” Vaggie said with some amount of frustration. Her being unable to uncover the secrets of a bunch of sinners was likely something of an annoyance. 

Lute just sat and pondered the implications of that, the idea that sinners somehow had access to goods from the living world opened a literal wormhole of questions. Obviously sinners couldn’t re-enter the mortal realm due to being dead. She did know that some kinds of hellborn demons were known to have access to the living world to tempt mortals. Were they gathering good through simple thievery or was it deeper? The idea of mortals having deals smuggling luxury goods to demons was so absurd as to nearly be comical… Lute really didn’t know how to feel about that. Strictly speaking, even when she was an exorcist the affairs of the Hellborn weren’t technically her concern, but even still she would have attempted to report such a thing to higher authorities in hope that someone might make an attempt to stop such demonic influence on earth… now? Was… was Lute on the side of the hellborn? She was on the side of the Princess of Hell, but she didn’t particularly consider herself against the will of Heaven. Lute’s fingers twitched in thought as she considered what might happen were she even in a position where she would be forced to choose and what she might do. She’d been cast out of Heaven for sure, but was she emotionally prepared to stand against it should the time come? That seemed less likely given the decisions made after the last Extermination, but that didn’t mean conflict was off the table. What if-

Vaggie snapped her fingers several times, pulling Lute from her thoughts. Blinking, Lute looked to her, seeing the woman holding out a cracker covered in gooey cheese and a drizzle of honey. Lute had been so wrapped up in her thoughts she hadn't even noticed the baked brie at the center of the board.

“Please avoid the existential thought spirals, we’re trying to have a nice dinner. Try the brie before it gets cold,” Vaggie said with a half smile. These thoughts seemed rather difficult to simply shove aside… but Lute really did like brie. It tasted as good as it looked, temporary distraction or not.

Opting to play along, Lute leaned forward to grab another cracker, making good use of her own claws to spear several olives in the same motion. The prosthetic still had its faults compared to flesh and blood, but the claws had their uses. 

“Please tell me you washed that thing before you stuck it in our nice food? Can't help but think about where it's been recently,” Vaggie complained dryly.

“Cleaned, sharpened, and polished,” Lute answered, biting an olive off her pinky in a motion that made the Princess giggle. Good that she was having fun, it spoke well for this evening not secretly being a disaster waiting to happen. “I'm not a barbarian.”

“Could have fooled me with how much you seemed to like walking around in a blood soaked uniform.” 

“Purely for intimidation,” Lute lied.

“Mhm, sure.” Vaggie gave her a knowing look, she knew better. It was intimidating, that was true but she had more done that because Adam was into it. She'd never exactly been above going the extra mile for the sake of seduction, be it drenching herself with blood or draping herself in lingerie. Whatever worked. Using such methods wasn’t exactly polite table conversation though.

“Play nice, you two,” the Princess chided, but her expression gave away that she clearly enjoyed watching the two angels banter.

About then, the waiters returned, laying out salads for each of them and pouring the wine. A fresh bottle being opened for each of them, which was a needlessly showy gesture but seeing the bottles being uncorked was somewhat of an assurance that there had been no attempt to poison anything. The chef’s choice for her had apparently been some kind of merlot, Lute hadn’t bothered to read the label beyond that. An experimental sip found it to be nice and dry, with some notes of blackberry and plum. Still no ambrosia and given the choice she’d rather share a glass of Husk’s good whisky, but it was a fine drink to sip at over the course of a meal. Orders were taken then. The Princess opted for a lobster thermidor, Vaggie wasn’t usually one for vegetarian dishes but according to her, the ratatouille here was particularly good. Lute once again glanced at the long menu with dozens of options crammed onto the page in small print and opted to just ask for the chef’s recommendation. She might not actually be French, but she was quite a fan of the cuisine and there was very little that she would ever turn her nose up at in terms of food. Nodding, the waiter pulled out a handwritten note and squinted at it as if he was unfamiliar with its contents but after a moment he listed off a handful of dishes that Sir Gilles was recommending as the man had apparently commandeered operations in the kitchen tonight. Still more options than Lute would normally like to deal with… but the last one caught her attention. Venison bourguignon. The dish sounded a bit homey for such a fancy establishment but Lute did rather like venison and the thought of a fairly simple yet filling meal was appealing. After she confirmed her choice with the waiter, he nodded and signalled to the handful of other attendants around their table. Once the flock of waiters scattered to the winds, Lute felt a little better about continuing the conversation beyond idle chit chat.

“... Pardon my rudeness, but what exactly is the point of this dinner?” Lute asked, getting the others to raise their eyebrows at her. “I suspect that as we have already ordered, there are no plans to have a client or some other guest joining us.”

“Nnnnope.” The Princess smiled over her champagne, popping the ‘p’ as was her habit when she was feeling playful. “Just the three of us tonight.” She exchanged a knowing look with Vaggie, who smiled in turn. They were hiding something from Lute, but their mood seemed playful rather than dour… so hopefully that meant they weren’t holding onto bad news.

“Tell me, Lute,” Vaggie leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. She was clearly having too much fun with this little game. “Why do you think we might have invited you out to a nice dinner?”

Lute frowned at the woman, taking in her smug amusement and comparing it to the Princess, who seemed ready to vibrate out of her seat. Both were in entirely too good a mood. Briefly, Lute sorted through the potential reasons why the couple might drag her away from the hotel for a dinner at a fancy restaurant in the city. Meeting someone else had been taking off the table, the mood was too light for bad news, Lute couldn’t think of any recent events that would constitute good news, and with the passing of the new year a week behind them it was probably too soon to be celebrating some obscure holiday. Any holiday celebrations would usually include the staff anyway, the Princess had nearly gone mad with Christmas festivities. Lute’s brow furrowed as she looked at the pair across the table from her, noting their amused expressions and the fact that they’d clearly made an effort to pick a restaurant that Lute would enjoy dining at… there was… one other reason the couple might call her out for a private meal. The tactic was fairly familiar to Lute, given all the time she had spent acting as Adam’s wingwoman… but that was patently absurd. They were clearly a very happy and devoted couple and she couldn’t see either of them taking interest in her of all people. Lute waved the idle thought off and signalled her surrender in the same motion.

“I must admit that I am stumped. I originally suspected this to be an attempt to cushion the blow of bad news given my recent performance but you both seem too pleased with yourselves for that.”

“Really, can’t think of a single reason? Nothing you can think about celebrating around this time of year?” the Princess asked, still amused as she leaned forward. She was watching Lute as if she might suddenly have an important revelation but nothing came to mind. 

“Nothing comes to mind worth celebrating.”

“I told you, babe. Every year, like clockwork.” Vaggie swirled her glass with a smirk, “Though, to be fair, she probably hasn't thought about it in six or seven years.” 

At this point, Lute was starting to get a touch annoyed. They were playing some kind of game with her and deliberately dancing around the topic. Something she hadn't thought about in years? What in creation could they possibly be on about? 

“Any chance you two are going to get to the point or simply hop around the topic from now until Doomsday?” Lute struggled to keep a growl out of her voice. It was improper for her to get temperamental with the people who were now her superiors, especially not in such a public setting, but they were pushing her buttons on purpose.

“Hmmm, I don’t know,” Vaggie hummed, feigning deep thought as she took a lingering sip of her drink, doing everything to draw out the moment. Lute wasn’t the only one left hanging, the Princess as well bounced eagerly in her seat and gave Vaggie a pleading look. That, at least, was to Lute’s advantage. She might not have been part of the staff for very long but it was well known that the Princess absolutely loved surprises but was also less patient than even Lute, all too eager to spring the surprise literally as soon as she was allowed to. Vaggie considered Lute’s grumpy expression and her girlfriend’s eagerness. “Oh fine, we were going to wait till dessert but now that you brought it up, Charlie might explode if we wait any longer. Go ahead, babe,” Vaggie said with a giggle as her girlfriend pumped her fist in excitement.

“Yes! Finally!” the Princess squealed, that huge and goofy grin of hers plastered on her face. She quickly spun her finger, conjuring her personal storage space. Reaching in, she pulled out… a present? Lute blinked, sure that she was hallucinating… but no, there was a small palm sized box in neatly wrapped red paper with an intricately done golden bow. “Happy birthday!!!” The Princess squealed with barely contained glee, likely only making a slight effort to restrain herself as to not disturb the other patrons.

“... Birth… day?” Lute blinked, dumbfounded as she stared at the box, numbly lifting a hand to take it as it was all but shoved her way. The gears in her mind shifted into motion, doing calculations. Much of her time in Hell had felt like a blur but considering how recent the passing of the near year had been, it was indeed Lute’s ‘birthday’ and marked her 257th year. Exorcists, being made of clay and magic, were not technically ‘born’ in the traditional sense but the day of one’s awakening was often celebrated. One of many human habits that Exorcists tended to pick up, Lute was actually fairly sure that they were the only variety of angels that even bothered as most elder angels predated modern calendars and younger cherubs were typically too vapid to keep track of the date (in Lute’s opinion at least). As with many things that she considered ‘human habits’, Lute had abstained from the practice for much of her life… until Vaggie came along. The young angel had asked about Lute’s own creation and after learning the corresponding date, she’d made a point of celebrating it with Lute every year since… a tradition that had fallen by the wayside in the years since Vaggie was cast out of Heaven. Vaggie’s sudden laugh drew her attention, making her look up from the tiny present.

“Of all the little details you do keep track of, I always find it funny that you never remember your own birthday. I… kinda missed that dumbfounded expression you get when I remind you about it,” Vaggie admitted with a warm smile. Memories flooded through Lute of years past, Vaggie going out of her way to drag Lute away from her duties for a day so they could celebrate. It had always been a fairly tame affair, Vaggie wasn’t big about giving gifts or anything of that nature, but they’d usually just spend the day together or dine at one of Lute’s favorite restaurants. It had always been a small thing, but Lute had forgotten how much it had meant to her.

“It… uhm… never felt that important,” Lute mumbled, unsure of what to say or how to act.

“It's so important!” The Princess beamed excitedly. “Birthdays are great! They’re like… like your own personal holiday! Like Christmas but only you get gifts and there’s usually cake and people singing songs and all that stuff! My parents used to throw, like, huge parties for my birthday buuut things are obviously a bit more…. y’know, sedate now. Still, I love birthdays and surprise birthdays are even better!” she gushed, bouncing back and forth as she talked. “Vaggie and I were talking the other day and she mentioned your birthday was coming up and I just had to do something. I mean, obviously it's your birthday and that's worth celebrating on its own, but it's also like your first birthday down here and I imagine that’s kind of a whole thing on its own. Probably some good and bad feelings rattling around because of that, which is why I wanted to make doubly sure I did something so that you would feel welcome and hopefully see that things down here won't be so bad so long as you’ve got friends and stuff! I did reallyyyy want to throw a big, huge party and get everyone in the staff involved buuuut Vaggie talked me down and said you probably wouldn’t want to make a big fuss out of it. So, compromise! Vaggie told me you really liked French food and honestly it's not like we get to hang out by ourselves that often so I hoped it would be a nice change of pace.”

So, Lute was seeing some more resemblance between the Princess and her father, as they both tended to drift off into breathless, stream of consciousness style rants when they got a little too excited. Lute struggled to keep up for multiple reasons, largely because she was still coming to grips with the situation at hand. The Princess had a point, it was her first birthday in Hell and wouldn’t be the last. Yet another reminder of her banishment, normally that might send Lute into an emotional spiral but… the Princess’ attempts to soften the blow and make her feel welcome had worked. Maybe she wasn’t feeling eager or giddy or anything like that, but baffled was better than depressed. There were other emotions as well, ones that made less sense, poking at the edge of her mind and looking for an excuse to get in.

“I… uhm… thank you,” Lute managed, eyes drifting back down to the little box in her hand. She was… very accustomed to receiving gifts. She understood that it was usually common practice for this type of event but Lute struggled to think of many gifts she’d ever received in her life. Her aurum sword had been almost a gift, given as her station of office. Most of Adam's ‘gifts’ for various holidays had been either sex or lingerie to wear before sex. The next closest had been the Princess giving everyone on the staff ugly sweaters to wear for a group photo, which she had insisted was an important Christmas tradition. 

“Well, go on and open it before Charlie explodes,” Vaggie prompted.

“Yes! I really, really hope you like it! I'll be honest I had no idea what to get other than maybe a new weapon but it's not like I can really do better than the one you already have and well, it's not like I want to encourage more violent habits or anything. Thankfully, Vaggie suggested something she thought you'd like and I have been waiting to give it to you all weeeeek.” 

Lute looked down at the little box, taking a moment to consider its weight and how carefully it had been wrapped. It felt a waste to just tear it apart after all that effort. Using her claws, she carefully cut off the bow, doing her best to not damage it and set it aside, before she went about carefully cutting at each piece of tape to preserve as much of the wrapping paper as possible.

“Seriously? Lute, I’ve seen you tear the door off a car to get at the people inside, but now you’re taking extra time to save the wrapping paper?” Vaggie mocked playfully, getting an annoyed huff from Lute in response.

“Oh be nice, everyone has their method. Besides, it's kind of cute, honestly,” the Princess giggled, nearly making Lute fumble the box at that comment.

“I. Am. Not. Cute,” Lute growled venomously, but based on the way the two other women just giggled at her, they weren’t too impressed. Lute used to be feared, what had happened to that? Oh how the mighty have fallen. Rolling her eyes, Lute finally unwrapped the paper from around a plain white box. She dutifully ignored another snort of laughter from Vaggie as she quickly folded the paper to a more manageable size and set it aside next to the bow. Eyeing the box warily, she carefully slipped off the lid and took in its contents.

A polished silver pocket watch sat in the box, the front lid embossed with a depiction of heraldic styled rousant eagle, the bird’s claws and wings splayed as if it was ready to take off into the air. Speechless, Lute gently lifted the silver watch off the small cushion, noting that it was even attached to a long length of silver chain. A small tap of the latch release made the case pop open with a satisfying click. Lute’s eyes widened as she took in the inside, seeing that part of the watch’s face had been left open to show off its mechanical inner workings, which began to twitch and spin to life when she experimentally wound the crown. It was a genuine piece of clockwork, not one of those cheap battery operated fakes. Polished to a near mirror shine, a slight heft to it speaking to the quality of its construction.

“I remembered you carried around your old watch nearly everywhere but… Well, I imagine it’s still back up in Heaven. We haven’t really had time to arrange another meeting with Emily and them, so getting that back wasn’t really going to work out. Sorry. Still, Charlie wanted to get you something and this seemed like the best option,” Vaggie explained.

“Mhm, I hope you like it. If I’d had more time I might have ordered you something completely custom made, my ex used to collect watches so I know a few good watchmakers. Still, I managed to find a good one I think. Not exactly sure why I went with the eagle one, but I think it kind of suits you!... Though, I might have been influenced by one too many of Alastor’s bird jokes,” the Princess rambled on but Lute barely heard either of them. 

She just kept staring at the pocket watch in her hand. Of all the gifts she could have gotten… It wasn’t like she had been expecting any gifts at all but she had figured that if her boss were to give her a gift then it should probably be something practical. Something that would assist her in doing her job, make her a little more useful. This was… not practical, even a little. A pocket watch was in no way necessary to do her job. Once upon a time, it had been a useful tool to keep track of time and so Lute had made the rather rare choice to get one for her personal use but as the centuries ticked by it had become a rather antiquated piece of gear. Her smartphone easily replaced all the functions of a watch and more, not to mention it required considerably less maintenance. As much as she liked her old pocket watch, she knew that it had long outlived its usefulness and she’d only kept it out of a mix of habit and sentimentality. There was no logical reason for her to be given such a piece of equipment. It wouldn’t make her any better at her job, honestly it didn’t relate to her job in any conceivable manner. Even then, if she was to be given this for some strange job requirement it made even less sense to give her something of such fine make and quality, rather something cheap and easily replaceable would have been more ideal.

So… why bother wasting the effort and money if it wasn’t supposed to be practical? Just…. for the sake of it? Just to be kind? To her??

Water dripped against the glass surface of the watch, startling Lute out of her thoughts. Damn it damn it damn it, not now. Of all the stupid times for her miserable emotions to stop obeying her commands. In public? How mortifying. Trying to focus on controlling her breathing, Lute reached for her napkin to try and wipe away the evidence, but a hand stopped her, the Princess’ hand reaching across the table to grab hers. Lute looked up to see Charlie and Vaggie watching her, obviously aware of her state and looking at her with what seemed to actually be genuine concern. Fuck, that was making it worse. Lute’s brain attempted to kick into overdrive to form some kind of excuse or explanation for her emotional slip but simply ended up stalling out with nothing to show for it.

“... Lute, we didn’t mean to upset you,” Vaggie began, looking like she wanted to reach out as well but seemingly hesitant of ‘upsetting’ Lute further.

“Hey hey, it's okay if you don’t like the watch or didn’t want to bring up your birthday or whatever. I just wanted to surprise you but I’ll remember to ask if this kind of thing is okay in the future, I promise,” Charlie’s voice was infuriatingly kind and gentle. Why was she acting like she was the problem? It was Lute’s stupid fault for getting emotional over literally nothing. No, Lute couldn’t have them thinking this was somehow their fault, so she took a deep breath and attempted to regain her composure.

“I-it's not that. I’m not… not upset, it's just- the gift is… wonderful. It really is. It's just- I mean, why bother- I…” Keyword, attempt. Lute struggled to form words with any form of coherence. For fuck’s sake, what was wrong with her? Charlie and Vaggie had gone out of their way to do something nice and thoughtful for her and she fumbled the reaction so badly they felt guilty for trying! But why had they even bothered in the first place? Celebrating birthdays was a thing that she and Vaggie had done when they were friends. Charlie barely even knew her. Lute had done so much to ruin both of their lives and sure, she’d apologized and started trying to make up for it, but she’d barely started on that path and spent most of the time fumbling at every opportunity. She’d nearly ruined all their efforts just earlier this same goddamn day! Why would they even bother with this kind of gesture? It wasn’t like she’d resent them for ignoring a birthday she’d have forgotten anyway, not that her resentment should even mean anything to them. There was no good reason for them to care or even put forth the faintest amount of effort for someone like her so why-

“W-why?” she managed, fighting and losing the battle against more tears as she looked back at the watch in her hand. That beautiful, wonderful gift that she had no reason nor right to hold. “I-i don’t… I don’t understand why-”

“Why what?” Charlie squeezed her hand, trying to be reassuring even as Lute ruined their night out with her emotional outburst.

“Why are you both so… kind?” Lute managed at last, desperately trying to keep from descending into outright sobbing. “A-after everything I’ve done? After I keep messing up? After I nearly fucking killed myself today !? It doesn’t make any damn sense! I mean, I-I know I want to go back to being friends with you Vaggie but there’s no way I’ve done enough to make up for betraying you! And you, Charlie, everything I’ve done to you and your people?” Lute attempted to explain, only being met with yet more concern and a flicker of confusion. There had to be some way to phrase this to make them understand how nonsensical they were being. “After everything I’ve done to the both of you, I appreciate getting a second chance more than I can ever put into words but I also am painfully aware of the damage I’ve done. Neither of you have any reason to give me even a shred of kindness! You don’t have to treat me like a friend or celebrate things with me or-or give me such nice g-gifts or-” An undignified sniffle interrupted her attempt to explain. Could she make any more of a fool of herself? She hung her head and hoped that her bangs might hide her shameful display from the restaurant’s other patrons as tears dropped steadily down her face. This wasn’t fair. She’d made peace with her state. Being cast down from heaven for her crimes, needing to live a life of repentance for the likely thousands she’d unknowingly condemned, working to make up for her betrayal to Vaggie and the enormous debt she owed the Princess. A life of quiet servitude and repentance was one she could accept, and she’d even seen that it could be surprisingly pleasant. Getting along with sinners and having a good working relationship with Vaggie and Charlie should have been the extent of anything Lute could hope for. But actual friendship? Genuine kindness? She didn’t deserve that. She’d never deserved-

Lute sucked in a breath as conflicting sensations enveloped her. One side of her being enveloped in a pleasantly cool sensation as Vaggie pulled her into a hug, then the other side of Lute being smothered in a sudden warmth as Charlie wrapped her arms around them both. They held her there, squeezing her gently between them. Lute didn’t like being touched most of the time but had gotten progressively more used to the Princess’ hugs to the point of reluctant acceptance but… when was the last time she’d been hugged by Vaggie? It had been years. The fact that it was happening now didn’t make any goddamn sense. Nothing ever seemed to actually make sense anymore… but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away from the undeserved comfort of their embrace. The both of them would have had to have gotten up from their seats to step over and hug Lute, which she was sure was causing quite the scene in the restaurant but neither of them seemed to mind. They just continued to hold her until Lute finally managed to (somewhat) stop crying.

When they finally pulled away and settled back into their seats…. Lute immediately missed the embrace but she shoved that thought deep down where all the other bad impulses go. Instead she simply looked at each of them in turn, noting the looks of compassion on their faces. Damn it, she felt as if she might start bawling again if she opened her mouth to question them. Instead, she simply waited and gave them the floor to explain their nonsensical empathy.

“Lute… you are kind of right, but you’re also very wrong,” Vaggie began. She at least acknowledged that Lute had a point, so that was something. Vaggie was always the smarter and more logical one. “Charlie and I can’t pretend you haven’t done a lot of bad things that hurt us in some pretty… personal ways. Our relationship is never going to go back to the way it was back in Heaven… and I’ve started to see that as a good thing,” Vaggie admitted, making Lute tilt her head in further confusion as she failed to immediately register how that might be a good thing. Thankfully, Vaggie continued speaking. “When we were Exorcists, I idolized you. Constantly tried to appeal to the idealized version of you in my head. Now, I've seen the real you, flaws and all. Having that understanding makes for a much healthier place for us to start over as equals.”

“I think calling me ‘flawed’ is a bit of a generous description,” Lute muttered.

“Well, saying that you can be something of a raging, psychotic bitch at times didn't feel appropriate,” Vaggie smirked. That almost made Lute want to laugh, almost. Vaggie sighed, dropping the humor as she became more thoughtful. “And no, I'm still not going to magically forgive you for everything you did or pretend it didn't happen… but I also can't pretend I don't see how guilty you feel about what you've done or how hard you're trying to make up for it. I mean, for fuck’s sake, you half sold your soul to Charlie just to make sure I could be comfortable being around you again, the least I can do is try to be friends again.”

“... but you don’t have to.”

“Have you considered that I want to?” Vaggie asked with a raised eyebrow.

Lute didn’t have an answer to that, looking down to fidget with the pocket watch in her hands, focusing on the light ticking sensation within. Vaggie had no reason to go to the effort of lying to make Lute feel better, so what she was saying had to be true, no matter how hard it was for Lute to accept. Instead, she turned to Charlie, looking at the Princess expectantly.

“What about you? I know I apologized for what Adam and I did but still, you have no reason to treat me as anything other than a servant given everything that happened.”

“I mean, it's true that you were… pretty awful when we first met. Like, barely restraining from calling me a slur kind of awful. You and Adam opposed me at every turn, insulted my friends, brought an army to my doorstep, killed Dazzle, beat up my girlfriend, and then got yourself banished by beating up my friends in what was definitely an attempt to assassinate me,” Charlie rattled off the laundry list of Lute’s personal actions against her, counting them off on her fingers as she went. 

Lute withered in her seat as The Princess went on, mortified by her own actions. Everything had seemed to make sense at the time… or rather, she had been fighting to make her actions make sense while ignoring the growing cracks in her world view. She’d been so poisoned by her beliefs and devotion to Adam that she’d gone to unspeakable lengths just to crush anything that disputed those beliefs. With a lot of force and great reluctance, she’d seen the light and learned the world wasn’t as black and white as she once believed, being left at the mercy of those she’d once vilified. All she had left was hoping that a lifetime of effort might make up for the damage she’d done.

“Aaand that right there is why I’m choosing to be nice to you,” Charlie pointed at Lute with a rather smug expression.

“... What?” Lute asked, blinking in confusion.

“That expression you just had, thinking about everything you’d done. The guilt. The fact that you apologized to me, to Vaggie. The Lute I met back then would have never apologized or felt bad for anything she’d done, especially not to a demon like me. You made a promise to change and stuck to it,” Charlie explained with that big dumb grin of hers. “Lute, I don’t know if you noticed or anything, but I kinda made redemption my business. I have a hotel full of sinners, murderers, thieves, adulterers, and criminals… and a lot of them have become really good friends! They just needed a chance to prove to themselves that they could be better, just like you. Obviously, you’re not perfect and like Vaggie said there’s still going to be a bit before I just forgive everything you’ve done, but I seriously don’t think it’ll be good for either of us if I spent every day treating you like dirt over it. I don’t want a servant or a slave, I just want to get to know you and the person you can be. As Vaggie said, you guys are starting fresh and working on rebuilding your friendship and, well… I want to be part of that, for us to be able to start over and try becoming friends…. I think you want that too, even if you don’t think you deserve it.”

I-I… I think I do it’s just-” Lute stammered, trying to find the right words. “Surely I haven’t done enough yet? I keep messing things up when dealing with the guests and even today, you both were so upset with me-” Lute tried but she was cut off by Vaggie.

“Lute, do you even know why we were upset?” Vaggie asked, which was at least a question that was easy enough to answer.

“Reckless endangerment of the staff and myself that could have resulted in me being unable to perform my duties, or potential self-termination, ruining the time and effort you’ve invested in me as an employee.” Although she said it was some measure of confidence, the flat look she got in response from Vaggie and the way that Charlie dropped her face into her palms made her feel that perhaps she missed the mark.

“... Not even close. Okay, maybe a bit about the reckless endangerment part but you still missed the point,” Vaggie sighed.

“Lute… we were upset because you almost died . Not because of some investment crap, but for the same reason we arranged this dinner,” Charlie sighed, rubbing at her temple with half amused exasperation. “Because we have started to think of you as our friend , obviously we would be upset if you died! We give a shit about you!” Charlie said, Vaggie nodding along.

Lute blinked. They… cared about her? But that didn’t make any… no. they’d explained their reasoning. It didn’t make sense to her but apparently it made sense to them . She knew both of them well enough to know that she wasn’t going to be able to dissuade them of that no matter how hard she tried. Honestly, why was she trying so damn hard to pick out reasons why it wouldn’t be true? Was it so damn hard to just believe they cared and be happy about that? Charlie and Vaggie were good and kind people, of course they could care about someone like her, even if she didn’t deserve it. Her mind flicked back to when she’d first woken up after being cured of her soul depletion. She’d focused in on the annoyance and anger the two had had, but she’d blocked out the look of monumental relief as Vaggie hugged her or the way that Charlie had been absolutely gushing tears in happiness at her being restored… they also hadn’t been the only ones, if Lute was taking a moment to actually be honest with herself. Husk had looked dangerously close to showing an emotion other than drunken bemusement when he saw her wake up, even Angel and Cherri looked fairly relieved. Lute had wanted to think it was just because they figured they’d gotten out of any trouble associated with her demise, but had they really started seeing her as an actual friend as well? Lute clutched the pocket watch closer to her chest, struggling to find the right response.

“Can’t think of anything to say?” Vaggie asked, chuckling with amusement at Lute being left wordless. Lute shook her head, lacking the emotional bandwidth to muster up a glare at this point. That woman really had developed a unique sense of humor in her time down here, enjoying schadenfreude entirely too much. 

“I’ll take that to mean you ran out of arguments, which means we win,” the Princess giggled, picking up her flute of champagne and holding it out to Vaggie who clinked her own glass with her girlfriend’s in a little victory toast, an utterly ridiculous gesture but the kind of thing she was coming to expect from the pair. After enjoying a long pull of her drink, she leaned forward with a big smile. “Now that we have established that despite being extremely grumpy, we do like you enough to do nice things for you. So, despite all the emotional stuff, did you actually like the gift? I have to know, I’ve been holding onto it all week waiting to see what you thought of it.”

“... I love it,” Lute managed, face flushed. She held the watch out, clicking it open again and admiring the exposed clockwork as it ticked away. Her expression softened as she considered the object, allowing herself to just enjoy the gift rather than question it. Strictly speaking, she wasn’t wrong about pocket watches being outdated, but she still enjoyed them. There was something so satisfying about clockwork, hundreds of tiny pieces working in tandem to accomplish a single goal. “I did miss the one I left behind. It's hard to explain why… I just really prefer it as a way of keeping time. The heft of it, the satisfying little click of shutting it, the feel of it quietly ticking away. This one is especially wonderful, beautifully designed. It's probably the best birthday gift I’ve ever gotten, no offense Vaggie.”

“I helped pick it out, so I’m not above stealing some credit,” Vaggie hummed as she picked at her salad.

“Excellent teamwork. Mission accomplished,” the Princess said, sounding utterly pleased with herself.

“Thank you both… I’m sorry for getting so emotional, I didn’t mean to ruin the evening.”

“Hardly ruined, we still haven’t even gotten to the main course. Still plenty of time to enjoy the night.” Vaggie shrugged. 

“Dessert too! Oh, Lute, you’re going to love this place’s desserts. Crêpes Suzette, Apple tarte tatin, île flottante, tiramisu, mousse au chocolat, crème brulée-” The Princess went off listing desserts, likely having memorized that entire section of the menu due to her insatiable sweet tooth… though Lute honestly stopped listening beyond crème brulée. She wasn’t very big on sweets, but that particular dessert was one that she always made an exception for. “-and of course there’s like a dozen types of gelato. Honestly, I usually order several desserts when I come here anyway, they’re all so good. Though, we should totally ask if there are any specials, Sir Gilles seemed weirdly intent on going above and beyond tonight for some reason, we should totally see if he can cook up anything special!”

Smiling, Lute watched as the Princess continued chatting while Vaggie added the occasional comment between picking at her food. Despite the earlier surge of emotion, Lute could see herself getting used to this. Actually spending time with Vaggie and the Princess as a friend rather than just as an employee or bodyguard. Not that she’d ever slack on her duties or anything of the sort, but maybe she could let herself relax… just a little. Not much though. Chuckling to herself, she clicked the watch shut and took a second to admire the engraved eagle. While the image of it did bring to mind some of Alastor’s rather annoying bird jokes, she found that she rather liked it. Eagles were noble creatures, mighty birds of prey and fierce guardians of their nests. There were worse things to be associated with. The eagle’s pose strangely spoke to her. Talons ready for battle, its wings raised. Not yet flying, but nearly ready. It just needed a good enough reason to fly. Gently as she could, Lute settled the watch back into its box and set it aside with the folded paper and bow. She’d have time to work it into her outfit later, but right now, she should probably focus on enjoying a nice dinner and good company... speaking of company.

Lute tilted her head away from her own table to turn her attention towards the many other tables in the room, several of which were definitely either watching them or pretending not to watch. No surprise given her display, but these people ought to know to mind their own business. Her attention was enough to get several to quickly turn back to their own food, and narrowing her eyes to a glare was good enough to deal with the rest. There was one bird headed sinner who had been holding his phone at an angle that might have suggested an attempt to record but a look of concentrated malice had the man shrivel in his chair and promptly snap his phone in half and drop it in his soup. Good choice on his part. Satisfied that the rest of the restaurant was now going to give them some measure of privacy, Lute turned back to her own meal. Good to know that her air of menace still worked on some people, but it apparently became less effective on people that knew her better which was frustrating.

Lute took a long drink of her wine, which went a little towards helping balance out the shifting tide of emotions still inside her. The concept of working on building and rebuilding friendships was…. Well it sounded very nice, but it wasn’t exactly something she had a huge amount of experience in. Lute had never really had a lot of friends, she had been on good terms with most of the captains among the Exorcists, but there was still something of a layer of professional separation between them. The only people she truly considered friends were Vaggie and Adam… Well, she’d let Adam die on her watch and ended up betraying Vaggie the first time, so clearly her previous approach to friendship hadn’t exactly worked. She’d need to do better going forward.

She likely could have pondered over the topic of ‘what makes a good friend’ for eternity, but she was thankfully given a welcome distraction in the return of the wait staff. In professional fashion, they quickly cleared the table of the remains of their appetizer and salads, refilled glasses, and delivered their main courses in short order. Again, credit to the staff, they were efficient… Though given the slight nervous energy about them, it was likely they were working extra hard for fear of the owner beating them within an inch of their life. Made for excellent service either way. The portions were surprisingly sizable for this variety of establishment, Lute was used to overly stuffy fine dining establishments in Heaven serving you a portion that wouldn’t satisfy a rat. She supposed that was due to the residents of Hell not giving enough of a shit about law and propriety to possibly hold back on stabbing a chef if they weren’t satisfied with their food. Her venison bourguignon looked particularly appetizing: tender looking chunks of meat, mushrooms, onions, and carrots saw in a thick red wine sauce, served with a side of beautifully roasted gold potatoes and a thick slice of garlic bread.

Eager to indulge in some proper food, Lute speared a chunk of venison with her fork. As she went to bring it to her lips, Lute paused as she felt the unmistakable weight of someone’s attention on her. Being hardwired for combat, she almost had a sixth sense for when she was being watched. Her head swiveled quickly, looking for the source… Lute squinted in confusion as she locked eyes with Sir Gilles across the room, the man doing an incredibly unsubtle job of peeking out from the entrance to the kitchen to watch her. She looked at him and he looked at her and god this was suddenly rather awkward. His attention didn’t seem malicious, just anticipatory? Lute considered his intent briefly. If poisoning was on the table, most people wouldn’t have waited this long to attempt it and wouldn’t stand there being watched by the person they were attempting to poison. Why else would he be standing there? Blinking, Lute shifted her attention back to the piece of meat on her fork and then back to the man. Was he waiting for her to eat? 

Unable to think of any other reason, she cautiously put the food in her mouth and chewed… Oh. that was… fantastic. In her experience, very few chefs had the experience to cook venison without the meat becoming tough as shoe leather, but this was fantastically tender, full of flavor from the rich sauce. The dish was surprisingly simple, not overburdened with a complicated mess of spices, simply allowing the natural flavors of the ingredients to speak for themselves. Certainly not the kind of flavor one might expect from a restaurant of this variety that usually tried to push bold and complicated dishes to impress its patrons, rather this felt surprisingly… homey, nostalgic in a strange way. Less like a dish from a high class restaurant, more like something cooked over a campfire or served at the family dinner table. Both of which were intensely strange comparisons for Lute considering she had quite literally never had either of those experiences. Maybe she’d just seen enough movies at this point in her life to simply imagine what such things must feel like? Putting the question of the long term effects of human media on her psyche to the side, she turned back to Sir Gilles and saw he was still waiting for some kind of response. Lute did very much enjoy the dish, it might honestly be one of the best meals that she’d eaten in years, but how to communicate that to the man?

After much deep thought and consideration, Lute settled on giving the man a somewhat awkward thumbs up and hoped that would convey her feelings accurately. This seemed to satisfy the man, who gave a single nod and quietly slipped back into the kitchen. What a strange fellow. Oh well, at least she could actually eat her food without being watched.

“You know, Lute, I hope it's not, like rude to say or anything, but I kind of didn’t expect you to be so familiar with fine dining,” the Princess commented, watching as Lute cut a potato to a more manageable size before eating it. “I mean, I’m not trying to say you usually have bad table manners or anything like that! It's just, y’know, you always kinda seemed like the type who’d be fine with eating military rations rather than having to deal with using the right fork.”

“Still don’t see why there needs to be more than one,” Vaggie grumbled as she poked at her own meal.

“Military rations are an acceptable source of nutrition, there is nothing wrong with them-”

“As long as you don’t have taste buds,” Vaggie quipped. Lute just rolled her eyes.

“Anyways, I can see why you might think so. While I do enjoy the food, this isn’t exactly the dining environment I would normally prefer,” Lute said with a shrug, pausing to pop the bite of potato in her mouth. Fantastically buttery, just a hint of salt and pepper. Went down exquisitely with a sip of wine. “Nor is it one of the skills that I picked up naturally, but two and a half centuries of being Adam’s right hand necessitated a certain amount of familiarity with the rules of etiquette. Dinner parties, formal balls, that kind of thing. The angelic court does enjoy standing on ceremony.”

“... Hell’s nobility also really likes etiquette and ceremony. Weird how that works,” the Princess mumbled, idly using her fork to tap at the shell of her lobster as she thought about the implications of that. Lute tried very hard to not think about that or any other odd parallels between the angelic court and demonic nobility, nor the fact that both had such frequent habits of copying humans. The rabbit holes these trains of thought presented were not something to get lost in over dinner. “Still, it's kind of weird to think about Adam in a formal setting. I mean, not to speak ill of the dead or anything, but he was kind of-” she trailed off, likely attempting to find some polite way to phrase her opinion, Vaggie didn’t bother.

“A huge asshole with the table manners of a drunk raccoon.”

“Vaggie!” the Princess chided her girlfriend’s rudeness… though she didn’t necessarily look like she disagreed. Lute sighed, she knew she was rather alone in having a positive opinion on the man. 

“While Vaggie could have worded it a bit better, yes, Adam wasn’t exactly… the best with formalities. He never really cared for such things and usually made excuses to leave formal events when he was able, but being the first man and commander of the exorcist army meant his presence was required. My job during such events was to rein him in to a degree, Sera was always very adverse to him causing a scene,” Lute explained. Vaggie had always referred to that aspect of Lute’s job as ‘babysitting duty’ and it could be especially tiresome… especially when Sera had pulled Lute from duty to give her lessons on dining etiquette because attempting to teach it to Adam was a waste and she was the only one Sera even mildly trusted to keep him in line. Still, she had always enjoyed spending time with Adam for any reason, and such events had been a fun chance for the both of them to quietly trash talk some of the stuffier members of the angelic court. 

“That and she needed you to keep Adam from spilling the beans on exterminations. Honestly, how that managed to stay secret for so long is beyond me,” Vaggie sighed.

“He was not… the best at keeping the topic quiet,” Lute sighed. She could think of hundreds of times she’d had to remind the man about the need for secrecy or interrupt conversations to change the topic to prevent a breach of information. She adored the man, but he could be something of a braggart. It was quite easy to get him talking about his own exploits and many of the angelic courts were curious about the highly secretive work of the exorcist army.

“Riiiiight, about that. I mean, I already made my opinions on that being a secret clear, buuuut I feel I have to ask… if nobody in Heaven knew about exterminations, then what did they think the exorcist army was for?” the Princess asked.

Vaggie and Lute exchanged a pointed look, wordlessly arguing over which of them had to be the one to answer that particular question. In Lute’s opinion, Vaggie knew her girlfriend better and the topic might land more softly from her. Vaggie, however, just pointed at the big pink ‘x’ over her eye and raised an eyebrow at Lute… Okay, if they were going to go back to being friends, they needed to install some kind of limit on how often she could use that to win arguments. 

“Well… the general understanding of the population was that the exorcists slay demons… as in the Hellborn, particularly the ones that sneak up to Earth to influence mankind. There was this whole narrative of an unseen but constant battle between Heaven and Hell for the soul of mankind with the exorcists standing on the front line,” Lute explained, though she was more interested in poking at her meal than watching the Princess' expression. She heard the distinct sound of claws tapping against the table in a none too pleased fashion.

“Huh. Well, that's pure bullshit, considering one of the only rules you guys had to bother with was that you couldn't kill the hellborn,” the Princess said with an annoyed but not yet necessarily angry grumble.

“It was just propaganda. The only alternative would have been to keep the entire exorcist army a secret, which would be a logistical nightmare,” Vaggie said. “Though in our defense, this particular narrative was decided on before Lute and I came around.”

“No no, I get it. The nobility does the same kind of crap down here.” The Princess sighed, stabbing at her food with a bit too much force. “Sending people up to spread sin and building up their legions to prepare for ‘the great war’ even though it's all just for personal gain and politics. I guess I just hoped Heaven was above that kind of thing… Guess I should know better by now. I don’t imagine this demon war narrative painted a very flattering picture of me?” she asked, looking back up at Lute and Vaggie, then frowning when both angels put all their attention on their wine. She didn't insist on an answer or anything but the silence was decidedly unpleasant as she looked at them with an expectant eye. Lute had been rather hoping this particular topic never came up buuut…

“The term ‘Antichrist’ might have been bandied about,” Lute muttered over a sip of wine. 

“ ANTICHRIST!? ” The Princess’ eyes flared with a sudden rush of heat and anger that made the chunk of lobster at the end of her fork shrivel and blacken into a smoldering coal. She barely even seemed to notice the difference as she angrily crunched down on it, smoke spilling from the corners of her mouth as she chewed. Despite the outburst of rather antichrist-like behavior, the Princess quickly mastered her emotions, sighing out a smoke ring as she rubbed her temples. “... I am going to send Sera such a strongly worded letter about this,” she growled.

“I mean, I kinda feel like that part was more Adam’s idea, if anything. You are his ex-wife’s kid and all,” Vaggie suggested, reaching over to pat her agitated girlfriend’s shoulder in an attempt to calm her down, with only mild success . Lute wouldn’t normally jump on the ‘blame everything on Adam' bandwagon, but the claim didn't seem entirely out of left field for him.

“Seriously though. Me? The Antichrist? Do I look like I want to cause the apocalypse to you? God that is so- just-ugh! So that's why Emily kept saying that I wasn't ‘nearly as scary as she thought I'd be’ like I knew there had to be some rumors about me as Princess of Hell but the Antichrist? Oh god, this explains so much about our first meeting,” the Princess said, turning to look at Lute, who coughed awkwardly.

“Well… uhm, the stories might have somewhat colored my perception of you. It's not like I was scared of you or anything, I had already been present for several meetings with your mother or father and thus seen far worse… but my initial response to you was overly hostile on account of… possibly considering that your absurd hotel pitch was a loose cover up for some scheme against Heaven,” Lute admitted, pausing to use her bread to mop up the last of the sauce in her bowl. The part that she left out of her admission was that she had also been mildly underwhelmed on her first impression. Years of stories about the Devil’s daughter had Lute expecting some grim warrior woman in demonic armor, not a bumbling yet polite young woman trying to pitch redemption for sinners. Truth be told, Lute would later learn that the Princess was fully possessed of the innate physical and magical might to embody that terrifying ideal, but chose not to embrace or abuse that power as a matter of principle. Admirable, though it did make Lute insanely curious to see what she might be able to do with some proper training.

“Oh god, this explains so much,” the Princess repeated as she groaned dramatically and leaned back in her chair. Lute did feel rather bad, both for having believed the narrative and been fairly responsible for its spread. 

“If it's any consolation, with the reveal of the actual purpose of the exorcists, I doubt many people in Heaven think of you as the antichrist anymore,” Lute offered.

“Exactly! Plus, Emily really took a shine to you, I’m sure she’s working hard to get rid of any nasty rumors about you,” Vaggie said consolingly.

“... I guess. Still sucks.” The Princess sighed. She then turned towards Vaggie with a suspicious expression. “... wait a minute, is that why you fainted when I told you who I was?” Upon asking this question, Vaggie immediately paled and started sweating, which seemed answer enough in Lute’s eyes.

“Pft, she fainted? ” Lute couldn’t resist a smirk

“Ah-uhm, well… I-uh don’t really remember . You know, first few days in Hell, lots of blood loss. Confusing time. But hey! Looks like we are all done with our meals. How about dessert? Dessert sounds great. Great way to end a meal and distract everyone from this topic! Cool, great, I’ll flag down the waiter,” Vaggie babbled nervously, leaning over to wave down one of the staff as she tried, rather desperately, to avoid the subject. Fortunately for her, this worked. The Princess was exceptionally motivated by her stomach and the promise of dessert went quite a long way towards making her forget about the fact that her girlfriend may or may not have once thought of her as a harbinger of the apocalypse. More credit to Vaggie for sticking around in Lute’s opinion, a lesser woman might have thrown themselves out a window and taken their chances alone in Hell.

After being hailed, the waiters descended upon their table once again, stripping it of empty plates, glasses, and dishware like a flock of vultures dismantling a corpse. The Princess, claiming a need for sugary treats to soothe her emotional distress, ordered roughly half of everything on the dessert menu. Based on the lack of surprise from Vaggie or the staff, this very much seemed like something she would have done anyway, excuse or no. Vaggie, being of a much more sane disposition, settled for a slice of tiramisu. The waiter turned to Lute with an expectantly raised eyebrow.

“Let me guess, chef’s choice for dessert as well?” they asked, making an effort to not sound a little condescending and failing miserably.

“Crème brûlée,” Lute stated flatly, making an effort to not stab the waiter in the thigh and only barely succeeding. Her tone seemed to do the job, as the waiter’s touch of sarcasm faded immediately and they quickly made themselves scarce. Impertinent sinners.

Dessert didn’t take long at all to arrive, though its delivery required a few trips with trays to serve but the Princess’ portion. It was neither the first nor the last time Lute would see the Princess indulge in a truly horrific quantity of sweet treats, but she still didn’t understand how the woman managed it… more, more importantly, kept her exceptional figure with that kind of diet and practically no exercise. Currently, Lute was trying to decide whether the woman’s incredible metabolism was the result of sorcery or some innate shapeshifting ability… or perhaps the Princess’ stomach was simply some kind of ever burning furnace, that at least would explain how she was so warm all the time.

“Well, aside from the emotional roller coaster, I think today ultimately ended up being a success,” Vaggie commented as she pulled her tiramisu closer to herself, using a spoon to lightly swat at the Princess’ wandering hand before it could claw off a corner of her dessert. The Princess might have had a half dozen dishes to herself, but of course she was going to try and sneak some off her girlfriend’s plate as well.

“Meanie.” The Princess stuck her tongue out at Vaggie before turning to one of her own desserts. “But yeah, today was… a lot, but I think dinner was a nice way to wind down in the end. We should totally do something like this again soon! I mean, obviously I love hanging out with all of my friends at the hotel, but it’s kinda nice to get away from all the responsibility for an evening, y’know?” she said as she began digging into a bowl of gelato. Lute didn’t miss the implication of ‘we’, meaning the three of them continuing to spend time together as a group… as friends. That would be…. nice.

“Again, sorry for making things so difficult today, but thank you both. This has been the best birthday I’ve had in… quite a while,” Lute said, smiling at them as they looked back at her fondly. There was no denying that Lute still had a lot to answer for and that calling Hell her home still felt very weird, but Vaggie and the Princess made it feel like home. A place where she was allowed to be happy and have friends and enjoy nice things every once in a while. 

Speaking of which.

Lute considered her own dessert. Crème brûlée. It was a surprisingly simple, yet decadent dish. Silky vanilla scented custard topped with a crispy layer of golden brown caramelized sugar that was oh so satisfying to break apart. It was also a decidedly unhealthy choice of dish. High in fat and sugar with little to no nutritional value to speak of. Logically speaking, it made no sense to waste time on the dessert. She’d only have to end up spending more time working out to burn off the extra calories and she’d already eaten more than enough today to satisfy her hunger. No, there was no real reason to eat it at all… other than to simply enjoy it. Pressing her spoon down, Lute couldn’t help a grin at the crackle of the sugary shell as she scooped up a spoonful of custard. A sigh of contentment escaped her as she tasted the heavenly dessert, perfectly creamy vanilla with crunchy chunks of sugar. Absolutely magnificent. Maybe not everything in the world needed some sort of practicality or reason behind it, sometimes it was okay to simply enjoy the little things like good food and good company.

Chapter Text

Few were those who chose to inhabit the wilds of Hell. Even in a location as densely packed as Pentagram City, a ring of thick and dark forest surrounded the city, acting as a buffer between it and the jagged mountains that made up most of the land of Pride. One might think that such uncultivated land would be quickly consumed by eager land developers or that it might seem an eager prospect for those who resented the confines of the overcrowded city… but even in the last few centuries, the borders of that forest had rarely shifted, only pushed back with great effort and cost. Despite the rising population’s desperate need for land, the Ring of Pride did not yield easily and was all too happy to remind its inhabitants that they were living in Hell.

True monsters stalked these woods, as dangerous as they were malicious. From snapping vilevines to roaming packs of pyrewolves, flora and fauna alike made sure that only the most foolhardy or dangerous sinners would risk making their home among the trees. There were still some, of course, it is within human nature to be stubborn and life in Hell has a way of bringing out the best and worst of mankind. Lonely and well fortified cabins or buried bunkers were known to exist in that forest, but one would be hard pressed to find them, their owners tended to not be the type to suffer guests. Still, even these stubborn few knew to stay well clear of the southwestern edge of the forest. Bordering the industrial district of Pentagram City, this stretch of forest had been claimed as the territory of one truly fearsome beast, one that even overlords would hesitate to challenge. This was the hunting ground of the tarrasque.

The ground trembled with the tread of the beast's six heavy legs, thick shell scraping against the trees as it passed. Its tread was heavy and slow, giving no thought to stealth. Why bother? It was the most dangerous beast in these lands, creatures fled from it not the other way around. It had been centuries since anything had even managed to scratch its mighty shell, most creatures broke easily under its mighty jaws, and anything that thought itself too quick to be caught swiftly learned that the tarrasue’s barbed tail was much quicker… and the jaws were a far less gruesome death than necrotic venom. The beast paused its stride, craning its hairy neck to consider the tangled roots of a particularly large tree. A few quick sniffs at the dirt earned a pleased growl from the best. Lifting one mighty paw, the tarrasque pushed against the roots, wood and earth groaning as the tree was pushed back, its roots and their contents easily exposed. A basilisk, hiding in its burrow, attempted to shove itself deeper into the ground to escape its fate. All for naught. The tarrasque chomped down on the snake’s tail with a horrible crunch that had the other creature writhing and jarking in pain as it desperately tried to resist. A serpent of this size, effectively being a length of pure bone and muscle, would normally be able to exert tremendous force, but its power was nothing as the tarrasque began to slowly back up, step by step as it pulled the serpent from its hole.

When all forty feet of the basilisk had been forced from the earth, the creature desperately tried to turn on the offensive, eyes flashing menacingly… then staring in confusion when the tarrasque lazily blinked at it. The gaze of a basilisk would normally turn its foes to stone but this monster was apparently immune to such petty tricks. The serpent darted forward instead, jaws opening wide and sword-like fangs dripping with thick purple venom, but the tarrasque was surprisingly quick for its bulk, easily batting the serpent's lightning fast strike aside with its paw. The snake slammed its skull into a nearby tree. The larger beast made a bored huffing sound around the tail in its jaw, seemingly convinced that there was no real challenge to be had here. Intent on ending this quickly, it settled one of its paws on part of the basilisk’s body and pressed down, crushing ribs, spine, organs, and muscle under its weight, making the giant serpent thrash and spew blood and gore from its maw like a wild firehose. The tarrasque would give the other hellbeast credit, it took about three more stomps before the serpent finally went still. The beast huffed again. Not much of a victory but this would be a satisfying meal at least. Confident that no scavengers would dare approach it, the tarrasque settled its huge shell onto the forest floor with a mighty thud and began to tear into its meal.

The tarrasque had been the apex predator of these lands for centuries now and nothing dared challenge it… well, that is what the creature liked to pretend at least.

Just as the beast swallowed its first bite, a terrible chill settled over the dark woods, the shadows deepening into inky black pools. The beast, so confident only seconds ago, stilled with sudden, all consuming fear. The true master of these woods made no sound on his approach but his presence was felt nonetheless. The truth was that the tarrasque had dominion over this stretch of woods only because the tall figure now looming over it had never bothered to dispute that.

Zestial had ruled these woods long before the hellbeast had been born, but he was a gracious host and allowed the beast to hunt in his forest. It was a rather beneficial arrangement afterall, in its youth the tarrasque had benefited from the fact that other beasts of the forest were too afraid to approach Zestial’s lands, giving it the opportunity to grow. Now, the beast roaming his lands made sure that visitors, be they mortal, demon, or beast, were kept to an absolute minimum.

The ancient overlord considered the tarrasque and its most recent kill. The lumbering beast made something of a mess, but that would likely be cleaned up by scavengers once it wandered away. Any opportunity to get rid of a basilisk was a good one in Zestial’s eyes, the giant serpents tended to make expansive underground burrows without care for what was above them and he’d never forgiven the beasts after part of his garden collapsed into one such den. The beast itself had grown rather well, the top of its shell nearly level with Zestial’s shoulder while it was lying down. He tilted his head down to meet the beast’s eyes and was pleased that it did not shy away from his gaze. He had worried the beast might have grown fearful and docile, but no, it still glared at him with fire and hatred in its gaze. The beast resented that he lorded over it, still desired to one day strike him down, but knew that today was not yet that day. Good. That was exactly the kind of attitude that Zestial appreciated.

“Do pardon mine intrusion, my good fellow. I would not usually disturb thy repast in such a manner, but following thy course doth make for the easiest passage through these woods. Certainly thou dost not mind?” Zestial said, grinning down at the beast and enjoying the way it glowered at him perhaps a touch too much. That could be something of a bad habit, enjoying the way other people squirmed under the weight of his presence was indeed quite amusing, but it was poor manners to press the metaphorical boot on the backs of others… but none had dared to challenge him on it in hundreds of years. Perhaps he might reconsider the behavior should someone gather the strength of will necessary to call him out for his rudeness. For the moment, he glided away to give the tarrasque some space. The creature gave one of its usual annoyed huffs as it bit into its meal, legs working to lift it up and find a quieter locale for its meal. Before it could lumber away, Zestial spoke up again towards its retreating form, "Ah, ah, ah, ere thou dost wander forth. 'Tis but fair to warn thee that we shall be expecting company in the weeks to come. Do remember thine duties; I would be pleased to see that but one of thee doth survive the encounter, not both."

The monster tilted its head to glare at him in silence, but it didn’t linger long. Such creatures were not truly intelligent, they were but beasts… but ones as old as this tarrasque tended to get an understanding of people’s intent. The tarrasque might not understand Zestial’s exact words, but his will was clear. A stranger was coming and the tarrasque was tasked to kill them or die trying. If it tried to get out of this duty, then Zestial would kill it himself. 

Zestial watched the beast go for a moment until its tail shrank into the dark forest and then he nodded. That was one part of his preparations dealt with. While he was well able to traverse these woods on his own, he knew others would not navigate them so easily. Though he typically abhorred unwelcome company, he was rather looking forward to seeing how this would play out. For their benefit, he was making an effort to mark out a fairly straightforward path from the city’s edge to his estate. A gentle scratch against the bark of a tree left a blackened scar that would remain for quite some time. The path he was marking would take his guest straight through the tarrasque’s domain, both because the lumbering beast’s heavy frame tended to stamp down very nice and easy to traverse foot paths through the dark woods… but also, if his guest could not get past the beast, then they certainly had no business that was worth Zestial’s time.

He made his way deeper into the forest, marking trees all along the way until his manor came into view. A dark and stately building, barely a century old and standing proud. One might expect someone like Zestial to live in some ancient and crumbling castle, but he was not entirely immune to modern comforts and tended to have his property reconstructed about once every other century. He had tried a castle before, but they’d rather gone out of fashion some time ago, and the place had been intolerably drafty. The hedges would need trimming, he’d been neglecting that task as the events of the last few months had kept him quite occupied within the city. The Princess had cast a stone into stagnant water and the waves were far from settled, so naturally there had been much to keep him occupied… but the waters had gone still again. A shame.

Zestial, being old enough to know that there was a certain rhythm to these kinds of events, was confident that there would be quite a lot more excitement to come, but unfortunately there tended to be something of a lull between spikes of activity. No doubt many people sat in the background, plotting and scheming and waiting until everything seemed nice and docile before they readied to throw yet another stone. Zestial rather wished they would just get on with it… still, he knew better. Patience, good things to those who wait. He’d made an effort to impart that particular virtue onto Carmilla during her first days living among the damned and it would be improper not to abide by his own teachings.

Gliding up the grand staircase, he quietly made his way inside. With little effort he could make it so the doors creaked open of their own accord and expelled haunting mist in a suitably dramatic fashion but such matters of pageantry were rather wasted with him alone as witness. That was the trouble of solitude. Zestial quite liked his privacy, yet it was hard to resist the need to show off from time to time. What had been the point of century after century of fighting and politicking his way up Hell’s social ladder to the point that even some of the Ars Goetia afforded him respect… yet having no one to show it off for? He’d built himself up for ages to stand worthy among his peers and yet now anyone he might have considered a worthy rival was long dead.

A tired sigh escaped him as Zestial paused in the kitchen, carefully unloading his small basket of groceries. To sit at the top was often such a lonely place, perhaps for some it might have been satisfying to proclaim themselves as king of the hill but for Zestial? No, he’d never cared for actually reaching the top. He’d only ever desired the climb . The struggle of forces warring for power and position, the gears of war, ancient feuds and the endless complexity of ruthless politics. That had been what made life worth it… but century after century of Exterminations had stripped Hell of many of its great sinners and what had been born in its place was… complacent. Boring. A gaggle of bickering children that preferred business to conquest.

Not exactly his cup of tea… but Carmilla preferred things this way, the woman craved peace and order in all things as was her nature. For her sake he tolerated it, even helped to keep peace now and then. If she asked it of him, he was perfectly content to sit through some meetings and occasionally quiet the children with a sharp look or a quick flex of power. Anything for his dear Carmilla.

Still, content or not, he could not quell his desire for the chaos of the old days and tended to seek out whatever entertainment he could find. Small investments here or there with hope they might be worth his time in a few decades. Be it setting some ambitious new arrival on the path to greatness or protecting a young tarrasque in hopes it might grow into a true monster, such things were his hobby and he had developed quite the eye for potential. His future guest was one such investment, one that he was dearly hoping would begin to pay off soon.

Zestial made his way through the home, which sat still as a corpse. He held no servants and his tolerance of guests was few and far between, thus the grand building sat empty more often than not. The place was fairly tidy, save some dust in the many rooms he had no reason to visit, he was possessed of magic enough to tend to the maintenance of his home without the need of noisy and, far worse, nosy servants. Still, it may not hurt to do a light cleaning sometime soon… or perhaps he let the dust accumulate, encourage some spiders to take host? A dim and dusty manor did make for a particular aesthetic. It was always such a gamble on what was best for such important encounters. Something to contemplate.

Coming to his favorite room in the building, Zestial looked over the waiting instrument. Surprisingly plain for a man of his wealth and station, but elegantly made of dark oak and polished metal, the pipe organ was his most prized possession. Surely, he could have afforded a larger and more elegant one, perhaps one that consumed the entire room in intricate pipework and fanciful moldings… but he’d had this one made to exacting specifications, mirroring the style of an old pipe organ that had sat in a humble church in the italian countryside centuries ago, though with the bare minimum modifications necessary to accommodate his larger frame. A small reminder of home and simpler times.

Settling in the seat with a sigh, Zestial set about the process of stirring the old beast to life, making its many pipes yawn awake. His fingers and feet began their dance, making the organ sing with rising notes that filled not just the room but seemed to echo out into the dark forest beyond. All creatures, living or dead, knew to silence themselves when he took to playing. Some parts of the forest were still regrowing from when last something had dared disturb him. There was truly no instrument equal to the organ, mankind might fumble around with its many expressions in the art of music but to his ear nothing would ever match the sonorous and haunting tones that called forth from those pipes. Such music had once raised the spirits of a world weary man, making him imagine that surely these were the sounds that must have echoed through the halls of the highest Heavens. A nostalgic smile cracked across his face at the memory. He’d never seen the heights of Heaven and never would, but he had it on good authority that the pipe organ was, at the very least, fairly popular with the angelic court.

Zestial considered, not for the first time, the nature of fate. When a mortal lived for as long as he had, one began to notice patterns in the shape of events. Free Will did surely exist, it was clear enough when one witnessed those who lacked the full capacity for it, yet there always seemed to be some strange caveats to that idea. When one lived long enough, their choices could nudge the flow of the world so completely that to those of more fleeting existence it seemed like inevitable tides of fate. He’d done so fairly often, shaped the future in ways grand and small. Such perspective would surely make anyone else doubt the existence of predetermined fate. It was rather easy to fall into the trap of thinking that the whims of destiny were merely the products of beings longer lived than he, manipulating events thousands of years in advance… and yet, still he doubted that notion. Surely, there were such plans of great magnitude in action that directed the course of the world but also there were just as frequent events that seemed entirely beyond the control of even God. There were simply things that often happened purely because that was how they were meant to be. Certain outcomes could not be avoided, only occasionally delayed or guided towards a preferred ending.

One such thing that always came to pass, no matter the will or virtues of those involved, was that any angel that chose to live in Hell would inevitably fall. He’d seen it enough times, heard the stories from the mouths of ancient demons, and once he’d even caused it to come to pass. It was a simple truth, no soul that resided in Hell would remain pure and untainted. For some it might take years, even decades… but for others it was quite the quick transition. The Princess’ consort and Carmilla’s hopeful project seemed to be of the former variety. Strong of will and good hearted, she had resisted Hell’s influence for several years at this point but the signs of change had been growing clear. Carmilla had already staked her claim there, the woman was clever enough to guide the girl through a controlled descent and see that she did not lose her sense of self in the process. The other angel, however, was quite a different story. Though noble at heart, that one burned with a fiery core of rage so potent that Zestial had felt its heat from the moment he laid eyes on her. Though she might resist, her damnation was not only inevitable, it was likely drawing closer with every passing day.

Zestial’s smile deepened as the notes of his organ took on a feverish pitch, his mind churning with the possibilities and potential this angel would provide. Such entertainment as he had not known in centuries. The angel would fall and it would be soon… and Zestial was eager to see what came out on the other side.

—

Something had to give, she wasn’t sure what or when but something was bound to go wrong.

Velvette had tried to bury the thought under a pile of extra strong coffee and design sketches, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore. This kind of paranoia wasn’t like her as she was usually too busy with a thousand responsibilities of helping maintain the Vees’ empire… but that was exactly the problem. Business had been good. No drama. No fires, figurative or literal, to put out. Things had been running so smoothly that Velvette found herself having a very strange excess of free time, which she felt was partly responsible for her growing sense of paranoia. For fuck’s sake, how was this fair? She actually managed to convince Vox to leave the hotel stuff behind for a bit and stop being so insufferably paranoid but apparently that shit had to go somewhere.

Velvette had spent the years since leaving Carmine Industries fighting an uphill battle to not only make her mark as an Overlord but to help build the Vees’ empire. She was used to fighting off constant disasters, employee fuckups, PR disasters, business rivals, and even cleaning up after the stupid choices of her coworkers. For once, everything had been running smoothly, suspiciously so. Business was doing fine, there had been a slight downward tick with the hotel opening but not as bad as they had anticipated, all the other overlords seemed busy with their own projects so there was nothing newsworthy to report, Valentino hadn’t even killed anyone more important than a janitor in three whole days. Things going so well for the last two weeks just felt… Well, it felt like the longer it took for a disaster to happen, the worse it would be when it finally did. The rational part of her mind knew it was just her being paranoid but… Carmilla had always stressed to her daughters that it was important to trust their instincts. Dare she listen to the woman’s advice? Even if she did, was it any help to sit around stressed out just so she could have an ‘aha!’ moment when things went to shit?

No, that sounded fucking dumb. Velvette needed to focus on work… not that there was a lot of that either. The news cycle had been pretty boring. She’d had some hopes of stirring up drama with some photos that came across her news feed of the Princess hugging that new angel at some restaurant, buuut it was kind of hard to frame a cheating scandal when the Princess’ girlfriend was also hugging said new angel. People wanted drama, not friendly hugs or a group starting to figure out that polyamory existed. Who the fuck wanted to read about a healthy relationship? If only she’d gotten a picture from an angle where the girlfriend wasn’t visible, she could have done something with that. Such a fucking waste. Velvette still had the commission from that royal fuckhead, but she was rapidly approaching the end of that as well… ahead of schedule, which sucked. She usually did some of her best work with her back against the wall of a looming deadline. The bulk of the work was done, main cast costumes had been drawn up and she’d even assembled a few prototypes to show off. All that was left were a handful of remaining designs for background characters and backup dancers, which barely required any effort. The point of such designs was to look nice but not be particularly eye-catching or notable so they didn’t distract from the main actors, thus she didn’t have to put too much thought into the design aside from making sure they didn’t clash with the set design.

She ended up being so distracted trying to think of a worthy distraction that she didn’t notice Vox entering the room until the glow of his screen lit up her sketchbook. She started to turn to admonish him for sneaking up but the change of lighting did highlight some design issues. This dress should really be slimmed down and the way the sarong hung didn’t look as good as she thought it would. Taking mental inventory of the needed changes, she ripped out the page, tossing it over her shoulder at the looming television before she set to sketching.

“The fuck do you want, Sparky?” Velvette grumbled, keeping her eyes on her work, though she noted the sound of crinkling paper followed by a small approving hum. As much as she enjoyed the approval, he really shouldn’t be trying to praise the sketches that were obviously failures.

“Just had a few minutes before a shareholder meeting, figured I’d check on you. See if you want to crawl out of your den and stretch your legs for a bit,” Vox offered. An innocent enough offer, but based on the way his fingers snaked over her shoulders, he probably had a very particular idea of how she might ‘stretch her legs’. Tempting, very tempting. More tempting as he began to massage at that one particular spot, drawing a pleased hum from her… but she had just started a new sketch.

“Hmm, maybe after the meeting, then we can have a little more time to enjoy ourselves,” Velvette said, turning just long enough to give him a quick grin. Vox smiled back, a little disappointed he had to wait, but he knew that as nice as a quickie could be, they would enjoy each other more when they could devote their full attention to each other.

“I’ll endeavor to keep the meeting quick then,” Vox’s voice dropped down to that little growl that Velvette found oh so distracting as his fingers pressed a little more firmly against her skin. It took quite a bit of willpower to not give in. That was the other thing that had been going suspiciously well recently. Ever since Velvette had convinced him to relax his hate boner for the Radio Demon, Vox had become quite a bit more attentive towards things closer to home… not that Velvette minded the extra attention at all. Still, at this point she’d committed to finishing her work, so she discouraged his wandering hands with a little shrug. Vox took a last opportunity to lightly drag a claw against the back of her neck to make her shiver, but he didn’t push. Unlike Valentino, he could behave himself… for a while at least. Velvette was sure she was going to feel the brunt of his impatience after the meeting, but she was looking forward to it. Since he wasn’t getting anything out of her for the moment, Vox stepped away and went over to the liquor cabinet to pour himself a quick drink, but his eyes were on the uncrumbled sketch she’d tossed at him as he moved. “These more of the designs for the ballet thing? For that prince guy?”

“Prince Seir. Just a handful of designs left, then meeting with the guy to discuss any changes, but I’m pretty confident in my work. I promise this won’t interfere with the rollout for the spring collection or anything. Still got months to work on that,” Velvette answered a bit quickly, but Vox seemed more focused on measuring out a glass of bourbon than turning back to her. She wasn’t keen on getting too deep into conversation about this particular commission for fear that Vox would question how exactly she managed to get the job in the first place. She was sure she could play it off but the fewer questions asked the better.

“Hm? Oh no no, I’m not worried about that at all. You’ve never let me down.” Vox turned to her and smiled in such a genuine way it made something in Velvette’s chest flutter… she then proceeded to catch the fluttering thing in her fist and quickly crush it. None of that. That brief spur of emotion aside, Velvette kept a neutral expression as Vox lifted the sketch with his free hand. “I was actually thinking we could potentially bleed the prince’s coin purse a bit. There’s opportunity here.”

“Oh no, you’ve had an idea. Is it a good one or a stupid one?”

“You wound me, my dear. I’m just thinking of how to invest in your work… for maximum profit of course,” Vox chuckled, pausing to sip his drink before he set to pacing. He liked to pace when he was thinking, Velvette enjoyed the opportunity to admire how much better he looked in his new suit. God damn, she was talented. “These designs you're working with, think you could take a more… modern pass at it? Streetwear kind of look.”

“... Probably, I mean, obviously I can see it but the look doesn’t have mass market appeal. We’d be catering to a pretty niche crowd,” Velvette said after a brief consideration. La Bayadère made use of traditional Indian aesthetics, or rather French or Russian interpretations of those aesthetics, though Velvette was making an effort for a more authentic vibe. There was certainly potential in the idea of fusing the bright colors and styles of traditional clothing with modern aesthetics and it was more than a little tempting to start yet another sketch. Self control, Velvette, one project at a time.

“A ‘niche crowd’ is just another way of saying ‘untapped market’. Plus, we can bump popularity if we release the designs in tandem with the run of the ballet,” Vox said as he continued his pacing, and Velvette did admit that there was potential to that, but there was one glaring issue with the idea.

“Neat idea, but most of our consumers are sinners, they aren’t particularly going to care about some limited edition fashion run linked to a ballet performance happening down in Lust. They won’t even get to see the damn play.”

“That’s the second part of the plan. People up here don’t give a shit about any of the royal ballets or plays because they’re only done in live performances that sinners can’t access, but if we can convince Seir to give us a chance to broadcast the performance then we can turn it into a huge event. First televised performance of a show that would otherwise be exclusive to the lower rings, people in every circle in Pride would tune in. The demonic royal theatre has gone to great lengths to remain exclusive up until now, but I’m sure this Prince could be convinced. The publicity would be great for his reputation, make him look like a real man of the people, not to mention him getting a small cut if that's not enough. Plus, once we get one demon royal that's willing to let us broadcast a live show, I’m sure we will have plenty of others making offers to show off their own performances and get in on the profits. Oh yes, I’m liking the shape of this already.”

“Good plan in theory,” Velvette admitted, tapping her pencil against the paper as she considered it. Getting an exclusive broadcast deal and pairing it with a limited streetwear run could be a huge payout on top of the generous payday she was getting just for doing the job. Carmilla had made it sound like this Prince was pretty agreeable so it shouldn’t be a hard sell and it wasn’t like they lost anything if he turned them down. “Still, you really think we’ll get a big turn out for broadcasting ballet? Seems a bit old fashioned for our brand.”

“It's all in the marketing.” Vox hummed over a long sip, looking rather pleased with himself for this idea. “Ballet, plays, orchestras, and such are all a bit old fashioned but there is a pretty healthy population of older sinners who appreciate the nostalgia from when such things were the primary forms of entertainment. More importantly, we are making it accessible to a wider audience. Hell, even in my lifetime the introduction of televised broadcasts did a lot for making ballet more accessible to the masses who couldn’t normally afford to see it live. I’ve quite literally lived to see this plan work out and we’re in a great position to pull it off all over again!” He laughed.

“You’ve got a point. You could probably even get that old fossil Zestial to sit down in front of a screen for something like this. Least I can do is bring it up with the Prince when I see him.” Velvette agreed as she turned back to her work. It was nice to see Vox motivated for profitable ideas rather than seeing him angrily glowering at his conspiracy board all day. Besides, unlike some other hare brained schemes, this one didn’t have some huge risk lurking around the corner to stress over. Hell, it was so above board that her mother might even approve… not that Velvette had any interest in said approval. 

They might have gone on in that fashion to hopefully discuss the actual pitch she would make to the prince and the logistics of filming a broadcast in another ring (they did have some hellborn employees of course but it was a lot harder to trust them to do things properly when they weren’t contracted) but they were interrupted by the one thing that was virtually guaranteed to sour Velvette’s mood. Valentino. The big moth shoved his way into the room, nearly throwing the door off the hinges as he stomped around. The big man had a sour expression, smoke trailing from his teeth as he grumbled angrily to himself on his way to the liquor cabinet.

Vox and Velvette exchanged a quick look. The big moth had been in an increasingly bad mood for a while now, something to do with Vox giving him a dressing down some weeks back. Velvette hadn’t heard the whole story as Vox had barely explained the event to her before he’d started ranting about getting ahead of the red bastard by going to the hotel’s opening. Something about Angel Dust actually being allowed to take a day off. The man child was pouting particularly hard, but apparently since Vox had already yelled at him once, he was opting for the more silent, grumpy pouting rather than his ‘kill Velvette’s models for the twentieth time’ type of pouting, so Velvette wasn’t going to complain… much. She honestly wasn’t sure if he was more pissed at Vox of Angel Dust.

“Hey big man, I was meaning to stop by the studio later today,” Vox began, polishing off his own drink and stepping over to pour one for Valentino as a peace offering. Valentino glared at him but accepted the drink without a fuss. “Figured I’d ask how the new production is coming along, you and Travis seemed excited about it.”

“It's all been going pretty shit actually, thank you very little,” Valentino hissed, throwing the bourbon back like a shot which, to be fair, for a man of his stature it might as well have been. “Bunch of angry letters bitching about the new movie. Some little shitheel must have leaked a few pages of the script or something.”

“Not like you to hold things up over a few bitchy letters,” Velvette observed, reaching up to wave away an errant smoke cloud. On the one hand, Valentino’s production schedule getting bogged up was bad for business but on the other she had seen the script for ‘Deal Breakers and Ass Shakers 2’ and the ‘Carlotta Carbine’ section had nearly made her lose her breakfast. The mere thought of it still made her repress a shiver of disgust. If any of the moth’s productions had to get bogged down and cancelled, she was glad it was that one.

“One of the letters was full of arsenic and that pendejo Travis spilled the shit everywhere,” Valentino growled, more smoke curling between his teeth annnd… he crushed the glass in his hand to powder. An expensive crystal glass. Why the fuck did men always have to break things when they got pissy? Who the fuck was he trying to impress? “Got it on four of the actors and I actually had to shut down the studio! No lonely fuckhead wants to beat off to actors covered in skin lesions!... I don’t think so anyway, is that a kink?” he asked, momentarily distracted from his own rage.

“Probably, but I’ll be honest, it's not one I want filmed under our brand.” Vox answered dryly. “We have standards.”

“Anyway, I’m more pissed about that whore sneaking out of the studio before I noticed. He thinks he can just take the day off? Motherfucker, when I get my hands around his fucking throat tomorrow I’m not going to stop squeezing until he remembers exactly who he fucking belongs to!” Snarling, Valentino moved to slam his fist down and crush the innocent bottle of bourbon but Vox’s quick hands saved it. Again, more smashing, what exactly did that accomplish?

“I’m sure it wasn’t anything personal, Angel probably just saw an excuse to grab lunch with that little cyclops friend of his or whatever. I’m sure he would have stayed if you just asked, well, he has to. Remember, that contract isn’t going anywhere,” Vox said placatingly as he poured the man a fresh glass and set it in Val’s hand. They were going to run out of glassware if this shit kept up.

“Right, that bitch,” Valentino muttered but did take a somewhat more calm sip of his drink. “She’s always hanging off him and complaining. Probably the one that put the idea in his head to go to that stupid fucking hotel.” Valentino’s conclusions were predictably wrong as usual, it was pretty clear that angel’s cyclops friend had fuck all to do with the hotel other than abusing the princess’ naive hospitality, considering the fact that she wasn’t officially guest or staff last time they checked. Clearly it was the princess herself that had probably convinced Angel to move out, but Velvette was plenty happy to let Val think otherwise. Better to have him turn his hateboner towards some random bitch no one cared about than the princess. She’d just gotten Vox off his fixation with that damn hotel and she was pretty sure if Valentino even looked at the princess the wrong way, then those pet angels of hers would bite his dick off. 

Velvette tried her best to ignore the bitching man child as she went back to her work. She had so many better things to do rather than listen to him whine. This was time better spent on finishing her designs or planning what she might slip into before Vox finished his meeting, or really do anything productive rather than listen to fucking Valentino bitch about his stupid fucking twink for the hundreth goddamn motherfucking time! Velvette really tried really goddamn hard to focus on her work but she ended up pressing too hard on the paper and her pencil snapped, taking her self control right along with it.

“Val, don’t you have literally hundreds of other whores to keep yourself busy with? You can literally walk downstairs and grab any of your fucking actors or even one of my fucking models and rearrange their fucking organs for hours but No ! You have to waste my quiet time bitching about that spider-legged flat-assed crack whore again!” Velvette shouted, throwing her pencil across the room so it bounced off Valentino's dumb bald forehead. For fuck’s sake, she knew mortals had bad habits about getting weirdly hung up on stupid shit, but she'd damn well had enough of this stupid obsessive behavior. She'd finally gotten the red tinted visor off Vox only to be brutally reminded that Valentino was somehow even more obsessed over someone he literally fucking owned.

“... And what the fuck makes you think you can tell me what to do?” Valentino growled, tossing his drink down as he stomped across the floor towards her. The fuckhead might have been around three times her height but he was too braindead to be intimidating to her at this point, all his looming and snarling was wasted effort. This was something Valentino ought to know as she and Vox had weathered about ten thousand of his childish tantrums but no, he still had to bare his teeth and blow smoke in her face like he was trying to scare one of his little pets. “I don’t fucking care about the other sluts because they know how to fucking behave, I have to keep bringing up Angel because that bitch keeps acting up and needs to be constantly reminded of who’s dick he’s supposed to be sucking!”

“And who’s fault is that? You’re the one who wrote the worst contract in all of Hell. Give your toys too much freedom, surprise, they’re going to fucking use it you dumb bitch,” Velvette snapped, tossing her sketchbook to the side as she sat up. Valentino wanted to try and show off? She wasn’t scared to play ball. Her own power leaked out, making her eyes glow. It was hardly the first time she’d squared up against the stupid motherfucker and she'd put him in his place before… she'd also been put in her place before. Honestly it was more or less even odds between them. Which, to Velvette’s mind, sounded like a solid bet. Valentino’s features grew steadily more inhuman as his temper climbed rapidly towards the breaking point, likewise currents of black energy began snaking around Velvette's hands as she prepared to give as good as she got.

Just as Valentino moved to step closer, a blanket of static electricity was draped over the room, making the two overlords jolt in surprise.

“Enough,” Vox demanded, stepping between them and pushing them apart. “I’ll not have you two acting like fucking children, especially if it involves having to rebuild part of the tower. Again.” 

“She fucking started it!” Valentino yelled like the petulant man child he was. Velvette, the mature adult in the room, stuck her tongue out at him, earning a rumbling growl. 

“She has a point, ” Vox snapped, poking Val in the chest. “You waste an enormous amount of time and effort worrying over one employee despite the backlog of responsibilities you should be focusing on. Unfortunately, you made some mistakes in writing up Angel's contract but there isn't anything to be done about that because there is no good reason for him to agree to a renegotiation. You're the one that sets his work schedule and he's obligated to follow it. I cannot fucking stress how much this is a non-issue.”

“But he's spending all his time at the stupid hotel with the goddamn princess! The longer he stays there the more that slut gets ideas in his head about redemption or whatever. They're trying to steal him from me,” Valentino said, still whining and probably unaware of just how pathetic he sounded. It was like the idea of losing control over Angel Dust was physically painful to consider. Seriously, why the fuck was he so hung up over one twink? “We need to burn that piece of shit building down and kill everyone ins-”

“Valentino! ” Vox yelled, snapping the man out of his violent train of thought. Vox took a deep breath centering himself before bringing his hands together. He took on the tone that he often had to use with Valentino, that of explaining basic concepts to a child. “Val. We already discussed this. We are choosing to stay away from all the hotel’s bullshit. I'm even making a considerable goddamn effort to ignore the fact a certain antlered fuckhead is still breathing. Why? Because if we start a fight, it'll turn bloody and fast. At the same time, you know what happens if we ignore it? Absolute fuck all. For the last goddamn time, no amount of bitching or planning can get Angel out of his contact unless you let him go. I sincerely doubt that redemption bullshit works while you own his soul so please shut up about your pet whore, ” Vox hissed, glaring up at the mothman, who glared back but ultimately couldn't think up a good argument to reply, so he just turned his head away and angrily puffed at his cigarette. A sure enough sign that he'd been beaten for the moment at least. Served him right. Vox calmed considerably seeing that this had finally worked, half turning away from Val as he went on talking. “If you really want to tighten your grip around his tiny waist, maybe I can help you brainstorm a reason to renegotiate his contact when I'm less busy. A bit of carrot and stick does wonders.”

Valentino looked briefly contemplative at the idea of a reason for contract renegotiation. Velvette feared he was dangerously close to forming a single coherent thought for the first time in his existence, but it got interrupted by Vox’s carrot and stick comment which the simpleton clearly didn't comprehend. Knowing him, he was probably thinking of shoving the carrot up someone's ass. Moron. She was about to say as much when Vox turned his attention to her, screen showing clear annoyance. 

“The fuck did I do?” she asked.

“You have no reason to be picking fights. Even if you have valid criticism, there are better ways to address it rather than squaring up. I expect you to know better,” Vox growled, making Velvette want to look anywhere but back at him… he might have had something resembling a point. She liked to talk about Valentino being the dumb and violent one, but there had been quite a few repeat incidents of Velvette being the one to actually start fights. Not her fault Valentino was easy to bait. She might have said as such but a flat look from Vox was enough to quiet her. He knew what she was thinking and he didn’t want to hear it. “You bitch about Valentino ripping through your models, well, I have just as much right to complain about having to deal with hundred thousand dollar repair bills when you idiots get into a pissing match. So, if you both don’t mind, either play nice and apologize or walk your happy asses out of the building I pay for and fight in the street like fucking adults.”

“Fine… Valentino, sorry for calling you a dumb bitch or whatever,” Velvette said half-heartedly, whatever got Vox to stop being mad at her.

“Apology accepted. Sorry for you being a huge cun-” Valentino began but Vox cut him off by quickly stomping his foot on the moth’s wing cloak, making him hiss. With an angry snort, Valentino corrected himself, “For annoying you.” His response was equally disingenuous as Velvette’s but Vox gave a stern nod.

“Delightful, I’m glad we can finally get along nicely after working together for a goddamn decade,” Vox sighed.

“Whatever, I’ve had enough of this shit. I’m going for a fucking walk,” the big moth grumbled, apparently tired of having to deal with being lectured by Vox yet again. Velvette briefly thought of about a thousand different things that Valentino could do to be productive but the man clearly wasn’t going to listen. It would only lead to more arguments. Angrily yanking his wings out from under Vox’s boot before he began walking off.

“A walk that will keep you far away from a certain hotel, I hope,” Vox said, making the moth pause for half a step. The man grumbled, chewing angrily on the end of his cigarette holder before stomping off. The TV sighed, pinching at his screen in the approximate location of where his nose would be. Humans had such a hard time getting rid of old habits from life. Once Valentino was fully out of ear shot, Vox’s eyes glazed over as he went through some internal data. Likely checking to see which door Valentino was walking out of and checking on a few things. Never hurt to double check after the man. Finally, wandered back over to Velvette, pulling her to him and curling his claws through her hair.  “Would have loved to spend a little extra time, but I’m going to be late for the meeting if I don’t hurry… although, I will be back soon, and I’ll need to punish you for acting out.” 

“Well, I suppose I was being a bit of a brat.” Velvette rested her head against Vox’s chest. She rather felt like Valentino got off lightly, her gut feeling of something about to go wrong returning. If anyone was going to accidentally fuck off and cause some trouble, it would be him… but, it wasn’t like he’d be stupid enough to do anything today. She could let it go, focus on nicer things. Like some upcoming personal time with Vox. “I'm going to think really hard about what I’ve done while you’re in the meeting, maybe change clothes while I do,” she promised, getting Vox’s face to brighten a shade at the idea.

“A very brief meeting then,” Vox purred before he reluctantly pulled away, flashing her a smile before bolting off through the wiring. 

Velvette stood in silence for a brief moment, grinning to herself. Sure, Valentino could be rather annoying but Vox was always a balm to her mood. For a human, he was turning out to have been a rather good investment of her time. To think, Carmilla had warned Velvette away from getting too involved with sinners, that working beside them so directly would inevitably lead to disaster. Massive hypocrite, trying to pretend no one else noticed the way she acted around Zestial or jumped to his defense when the man was insulted. Unlike her mother, Velvette wasn’t so stupid as to let her feelings get in the way of good sense. No deep emotional attachments needed… Now she just needed to finish up that sketch before she found something to wear for Vox. Hmm, she had some new lingerie she’d been meaning to test out, but she was supposed to be ‘punished’ for her behavior, so perhaps she ought to be tied up? Decisions, decisions. 

—

“Annnd there we go, thank you for your business here at Happy Endings and we hope you have one as soon as you get home,” The cashier quite literally purred, leaning forward just a bit too much as she presented Lute with a receipt for her purchase. Lute kept her eyes forward rather than fall into the temptation of letting eyes drift down to the cleavage being put on display. The woman only seemed amused by her annoyed glare. “Thooough, if you have any concerns about your purchase I would be more than happy to slip into the backroom with you and make sure everything ‘fits’ just right.”

“No thank you. Good day.” Lute said in a clipped tone, snatching the receipt from the cat eyed woman. She had endured more than enough of this nonsense today. The cashier simply gave a shrug and settled back to read a magazine (despite her clearly still being on shift, which Lute found deeply unprofessional) as Lute shoved the receipt and any other evidence of her purchase into the brown paper bag she’d had the foresight to bring along beforehand. She was all too happy to be out of this miserable store and moving on with her day. Still, the worst was yet to come.

A shiver passed through Lute as she stepped out into the street, prompting her to pull her jacket tighter. A thick blanket of white bullshit had descended from the red sky a few days ago and showed no signs of leaving. It piled high up around the hillside of the hotel, making the area miserable to traverse. She’d hoped that the well-traveled streets would be more tolerable due to most of the snow being trampled or already cleared… but the freezing winds that screamed from between the buildings were much worse. No one had warned her that Hell could be cold, wasn't the expression ‘when Hell freezes over’ meant to be a joke? Absolutely fucking miserable weather. Lute hated the cold, almost as much as she hated the conversation she was about to have.

“Weeell, that was quick, sure ya got everything there, Tits?” Angel Dust’s tone was absolutely dripping with teasing mockery as the tall spider pushed himself off a nearby streetlight. “I'm surprised ya get in and out so quick, really know what you're into, huh?”

“Must you make this experience more mortifying than it already is?” Lute sighed at the grinning spider. Asking for his assistance was a terrible choice but also an unavoidable one. This topic was his area of expertise unfortunately. As weeks in Hell were beginning to turn into months, Lute’s dry spell was becoming a greater and greater annoyance. She’d never been much for ‘toys’ before, but the near constant stress and lack of available partners was starting to get to her. She’d eventually forced herself to corner Angel Dust and, after several threats to assure his discretion, asked where she might be able to purchase some relief. He had actually been very happy to help… once he stopped laughing. Lute was probably going to be teased about this for months to come. “I thought this place was supposed to be more… tame. The cashier wouldn't stop flirting with me.”

“Ey, ya shoulda taken the bait, I hear Tanya’s a great lay,” Angel suggested with a playful eyebrow wiggle. Lute just glared at him, to his amusement apparently. She felt a strong temptation to give him a quick reminder of why she should be feared, but Angel had been nice enough to use up his time to help her out sooner than expected. Lute had been worried this… purchase might have to wait till the weekend, but Angel had messaged her that he’d been released early from work due to some issue at the studio. The least she could do in return for his time was quietly weather some of his mockery. “This place is tame for these parts. You're in Hell! Can only imagine what it's actually like in Lust, man, Ya got no fuckin' idea what I'd do to be able to get down there. Sounds like fuckin' paradise,” Angel said dreamily. Lute opted to not bring up that she had seen paradise, and there were considerably less sex shops. Angel kept talking, as was his way. “Didja get everythin’ ya need by the way? Hope ya got plenty of lube, I didn't figure ya for a size queen.”

“You said you wouldn't look!” Lute shouted, face flushed as she clutched the bag to her chest.

“Easy, Tits, wasn't peekin’ on purpose, just caught a glimpse of ya walkin’ to the register with a box big enough for a damn shotgun.” The smirk on his face told a rather different story than his just catching a glimpse. Damnable spider.

“... I didn't know what to buy, So I just grabbed something that looked… familiar.” Lute grumbled. It wasn't nearly as big as Angel was making it out to be, the store had plenty bigger.

“... Wait, familiar? Hold the fuck on, you mean fuckin’ Adam?” Angel seemed caught off guard, looking utterly dumbfounded when she nodded confirmation. She wasn't sure why this seemed to be a surprise, Adam had been nine feet tall, nothing about the man was small. Still, Angel Dust seemed to be consumed with complicated mental math as he made a show of measuring her height and then looking pointedly at the bag in her arms, which she turned away from him with a scowl. “...How in the whole fuck did he not tear your tiny ass apart?”

“I’m resilient , now can we please talk about literally anything else!?”

“Oh, I still gotta a thousand questions, but I’ll save ‘em for later,” he laughed, finally handing her the warm thermos of tea he’d been holding onto with his lower arms. Lute snatched it with a growl. The warmth of the contained was a small comfort against the frozen hellscape she was forced to endure, its steaming contents helping her briefly forget the million indignities she was forced to endure. “Feelin’ less grumpy now?” he asked with a mocking grin. Despite still wanting to incinerate him with the force of her glare along, the warm drink did make her feel better so she nodded. “And just like that, Angel makes the world a little better! Is there no end to my wonders?” he proclaimed.

“Egotism doesn’t suit you, leave that to Alastor,” Lute grunted, following along as Angel began to make his way down the street. She hadn’t really meant the comment as a joke, but he laughed anyway. She wasn’t perfectly familiar with the layout of the city but she was fairly sure this wasn’t the way they’d come. “Are we not going back to the hotel?”

“Oh yeah, my bad. Texted Cherri that I was out early, she wanted to do lunch, figured you might want to come along. There’s a nice little deli just down the way, one of the few good ones. Cher should be pulling up in a few minutes,” Angel explained. Lute considered it before she shrugged. She was down for lunch, as skeptical as she still was of restaurants in this city, it was hard to fuck up a sandwich. Especially if she could get something warm to eat, a little extra help to fight off the bitter cold.

As they walked, Lute reconsidered the streets around them. As miserable as the weather was, the snow actually did a good bit to make the city seem a little more presentable. Piles of white snow went a long way towards hiding the general filth that accumulated on the streets and the natural sound dampening effect made the place just a little quieter… though at the same time, it highlighted several fresh deposits of blood, piss and vomit. The residents weren’t going to be on any better than usual behavior just because of the weather. Personally, Lute thought it was far too fucking cold to be mugging people, surely the smart criminals would prefer to conduct business indoors.

Sure enough, Cherri Bomb was waiting for them at the deli. The woman, in defiance of all sense, hadn’t bothered to change from her usual outfit. There was entirely too much skin exposed, yet she seemed entirely unphased by the fucking freezing temperatures.

“Oi cunts, nice weather we’re havin’, huh?” she laughed, eyeing the way Lute shivered miserably.

“How in damnation are you not dead?” Lute demanded, but she realized what she’d said a moment too late.

“Been dead for decades, glad ya noticed!” Cherri roared with laughter, Angel Dust joining in and slapping his knee with one of his many arms.

“Ha fucking ha. You’d think you people would get tired of gallows humor.” she sighed

“Not like it's gonna kill us or nothin’!” Angel added, making Lute groan. They definitely weren’t going to stop anytime soon. Lute tried her best to ignore them as they two kept tossing jokes back and forth while she went about ordering herself something to eat. A nice toasted sandwich did help to fill her core with something to keep the chill at bay, it was almost good enough to make up for the assault on her ears and sanity. 

Lunch acquired, the group made their way back onto the streets to munch as they strolled back towards the hotel. Despite their terrible sense of humor, it wasn’t so bad hanging out with them. She had been thinking about what Vaggie and the Princess had said about being able to make friends with people. She… supposed Cherri and Angel considered her a friend at this point, they certainly seemed happy to spend time with her. Their introduction with her had been… rough, but she supposed they were familiar with such things. They’d both been fairly familiar with conflict before she came along, which she respected. When death was both temporary and common, most Sinners tended to not take a simple fight too personally. Lute might have considered her leading an army to personally kill them a bit more complex than a simple fight, but she was making an effort not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Vaggie and Charlie had been right when they said she was allowed to make friends, allowed to enjoy herself sometimes, she just needed to practice believing it herself.

“-so yeah, got something to do with magic I guess. I make bombs so explosives mean fire, fire means I'm always warm. Makes enough sense to me.” Cherri shrugged as she finished explaining. It made some degree of sense, or at least as much as anything magical made sense to Lute. Magic could be conceptually wibbly wobbly at the best of times. Being naturally warm all the time went a long way towards explaining the woman's preference towards skin tight and strategically ripped clothing. “Fucking sucks mosta tha year tho.”

“You're telling me, feels like half my paycheck goes inta hair cuts,” Angel complained, his lower set of arms adjusting his chest fluff. Lute had noticed that he'd been growing out the natural fluff as it f got closer to winter, the man looked like he had one of those travel pillows around his neck now. It looked very warm and Lute was only a little jealous. “Must be nice being cold blooded.”

“I'm not a fucking reptile,” Lute hissed, making the others giggle like children. “Angels are just… cold. I have no idea how it works, I'm not a scholar. I will admit that it's a pleasant condition to have in summer, but winters are fucking miserable.” Snarling, she eyed the frosty breath coming out of her mouth, praying that it would carry her anger off to whatever force controlled the weather down here. Back in Heaven, the weather was controlled and fairly mild. Intentionally pleasant and strictly scheduled. Sure, it snowed, but Lute was able to look at a calendar and know exactly what days it was snowing so she could fucking barricade herself in her room. 

“... You know, I bet that's why Charlie likes Vaggie so much,” Cherri mused. Honestly she had something of a point, the Princess seemed to have a furnace in her chest for how warm she always seemed to be. It was hard to understand how comfortable she was in suits, granted they looked good on her.

“Oh yeah, Vags must be good for cuddlin’. Other things too, willin’ ta bet. Lute would know,” Angel said as he and Cherri turned to look at her with expectant expressions. She just blinked and stared back at them, trying to figure out what they meant. 

“That’s a rather broad statement, Vaggie is good at a lot of things. What specifically?” she asked.

“Come oooon, don't jerk us around, we’re all adults. How’s Tightass in bed?” Angel asked as if that was a perfectly normal and appropriate question for polite conversation.

“Yeah yeah, dish the goss. We gotta know,” Cherri pressed, excited to hear whatever Lute had to say.

Needless to say, the question caught the angel rather off guard. The words had pulled Lute’s train of thought to a sudden and grinding halt, the crew having to work double time to get the poor machine’s engine running again. After a beat of staring at the sinners in stunned silence, Lute’s brain started to actually piece things together. Tightass? Did he mean Vaggie? ...Well she did have a- wait a goddamn second! Defaulting to the safest emotional response, Lute’s angry glare almost managed to cover the fierce golden blush on her cheeks.

“I- We haven’t- I mean, why in damnation why you ask that!?” Lute snapped, her outburst only making the sinners titter in glee. Why did everyone seem to find her outbursts so goddamn amusing? “Obviously Vaggie and I have never been together, we don’t have that kind of relationship,” she asserted but Angel and Cherri looked skeptical.

“Bull and shit. I know you can be a bit of wowser but you don’t need to lie.” Cherri shook her head, eye narrowing with skepticism. Lute didn’t know what the fuck a ‘wowser’ was but judging from context she had to guess she was being called a prude. “You said you’ve known her for like a century and a half or some shit, no way you two have been friends that long and never hooked up.”

“Yeah, I don’t know nobody that’s know each other that long and not fucked at least once,” Angel said. When Lute raised an eyebrow, trying to prove a point by gesturing at him and Cherri, he dismissed her with a wave. “Oh yeah, Cherri and I have hooked up a coupla times. Not a regular thing or nothin’ but ya know, a friendly fuck now and then.” he shrugged.

“Not like I could afford you that often anyway,” Cherri added, elbowing him as they shared a laugh.

“... I thought you were a homosexual.” This conversation was jumping around way too much for Lute to keep up, she was honestly still hung up on the very idea that she and Vaggie might have… engaged in activities.

“Gay as a maypole, totally. But, like, everyone has a bit of wiggle room,” Angel explained, Cherri nodding along as if this was obvious. “Especially when you work in the business, girls do cost extra tho… before ya ask, You’d cost double, I don’t want ya bitin’ me-”

“Foul. Never suggest that again.” 

“-point is, handfula times Cherr had a real rough time of it so I did my girl buddy a solid. Perfectly normal shit. You honestly can’t tell me you’ve never thought about asking Vags to crawl under your desk and-”

“ Cease and fucking desist !” Lute snapped, cutting him off, her blush deepening as she tried very, very hard to banish that mental image. Her definition of normal shit didn’t include sleeping with your best friend…but then again, Angel was a prostitute so it was fairly reasonable he had a far more casual approach to sex than most people. Cherri had agreed with his statement on wiggle room, so did that imply she had slept with women? If Lute was being honest, she kind of had to agree, she had also slept with several women but that didn’t really count. Lute knew that threesomes didn’t make you gay, Adam told her so. 

“Seriously? Never? I swear I catch you staring at Vaggie’s ass all the time tho,” Cherri stated, which Lute waved away. Everyone stared at Vaggie’s ass, that was simply a given. “Well, either at her ass or Ch-”

“Nah nah, Tits here can only handle one thing at a time. Gotta wait before we get there.” Grabbing Cherri by the shoulder, Angel cut off whatever she was about to say. The cyclops rolled her eye with great annoyance but didn’t argue. Whatever they were on about, Lute really didn’t want to waste time considering it.

The very notion was absurd. Her and Vaggie? It wasn’t like Lute had been unaware of the woman’s preferences, she’d tried to be a good friend and listen whenever Vaggie vented about her dating issues. It’s not like Vaggie had ever expressed interest in Lute… right? It’d have been inappropriate anyway, Lute had been her superior officer, though… Lute had been sleeping with Adam, who was her superior officer. If Lute was really lowering herself to considering the option, it wasn’t like Vaggie was unattractive or anything. Lute had always thought of her as beautiful but, like, aesthetically beautiful in the way of a painting or a melody. She’d never intentionally considered Vaggie in a romantic or sexual fashion. Even less so now that Vaggie was already romantically engaged with another woman. Sinners and their damn perverted ideas. 

Just as Lute was about to turn around and admonish the sinners for their nonsense, she noticed they’d gone rather quiet. Usually by now they’d have another asinine comment to poke fun at her or make even worse insinuations. Just as she contemplated turning and confronting them, her forward momentum caused her to bounce off something solid.

Lute stumbled back a step, feeling confused. She was sure the street they’d been walking on had been clear. She must have bumped into a stranger who was paying as little attention as she was. Lute turned her eyes towards the person and had to crane her neck to look up and up and up at the towering figure before her. Christ, what had they been feeding this one? About as tall as Zestial and twice as wide. The figure was draped in a bright coat with fluffy lining, a matching wide brimmed hat and pink heart shaped glasses… what an utterly garish outfit. Something was familiar about the man, but Lute knew she wouldn’t forget having met such a figure in person. Maybe she’d seen a picture of the man before?

“Watch where you step, puta ,” the man growled down at her, eyes burning with the kind of fury that spoke of someone who had already been having a bad day and was looking for someone else to take it out on. Lute straightened up, glaring back at the man. She didn’t know what he’d called her, but she’d heard Vaggie say the word before and she was fairly sure it was a rather intense insult. If this fucker wanted to start this encounter with that kind of energy, Lute wasn’t exactly shy about giving back.

“I could say the same, filth ,” she growled, undaunted by the man's figure. She wasn't blind, at a glance she could tell this being was a cut above the average sinner. An Overlord for sure, but not one that radiated power like Vox or Alastor. Certainly not even within spitting distance of Zestial. Lute had been getting a better idea of which weight class she sat in down here and while it might have been a tough fight, she felt that this man was within her reach if it came down to it.

“...That's quite the attitude.” The tall figure’s voice quieted to a low rumble, stopping to take a drag off a long cigarette holder as he looked down at her. He blew a thick stream of foul pink smoke into Lute's face. The smell was absolutely rancid to Lute's senses and definitely not tobacco. She quickly waved it away, unwilling to give the man the satisfaction of seeing her cough or gag. His frown deepened a touch at her lack of response to his obvious provocation. “Do you have any ideas who you're talking to? I have torn bitches like you in half for less.”

“What a coincidence, so have I,” Lute responded, unwilling to give the man an inch. It was difficult but she was maintaining her self control for the moment. She knew her contract. Lute was forbidden from starting fights without reason, especially with powerful figures like overlords… however, if he hit her first, that was quite the different story. No rules against self defence. 

It was easy to spot the signs of someone on the edge of violence. The furrowed brow, the subtle pop of four sets of knuckles, the shifting stance. This man was tensing to fight. Marvelous. Lute's own muscles relaxed, ready to react with explosive force. Lute was going to enjoy this… or rather, she really wanted to enjoy it, but just as the man began to step towards her, a different set of four hands grabbed her from behind and quickly pulled her away from the man.

“Angel, what the fu-”

“Valentino, I am so, so sorry for my friend here. She's still new, ya know? Doesn't get the rules an’ shit. Doesn't know you ya are or nothin’ but I am sure she'll be more than happy to apologize.” Angel spoke quickly, stressing the last word as he dragged Lute away from the man. Why was he stopping her? Angel looked absolutely terrified. He hadn't even looked that frightened when Lute was slamming a boot into his face. She frowned, looking from him to the man, who honestly seemed to have forgotten about her entirely, his interest being purely on Angel.

The pieces clicked into place. She knew where she'd seen this man, his picture had been in Vaggie's report of overlords in the city. Valentino, one of the Vees… and the person holding Angel's contract. Conflicting emotions ran through Lute at that thought. She'd suggested killing Valentino as a simple solution once upon a time and had been given a half dozen reasons why that wasn't a feasible option. Begrudgingly, she had to admit that she understood them now. While freeing Angel from his contract sounded like a good thing, starting a fight with Valentino would likely only result in backlash against the hotel to a degree that would put quite a lot of people at risk… unlike the last time Lute threw caution to the wind and flirted with her own demise, she didn't have a plan in place to make sure that only she suffered the consequences this time.

“ Aaah. There you are, Angel.” Valentino only had eyes for Angel now, speaking in a time that was likely meant to sound sensual but the notable undertone of raw malice made Lute's skin crawl. “What a surprise to find you out here and with such… interesting company.”

“U-uh, yeah. Sure as shit a surprise seein’ ya, Val. I mean, n-not that it's a bad surprise or nothin’! Just, ya’ know, out of the town with my gal pals. On our way home actually, like, right now.” Angel gave a strained chuckle as he tried to explain the situation. Unsatisfactorily, Lute guessed, based on the way Valentino's jaw tightened when Angel referred to the hotel as ‘home’. “Hehe, aaanyway, we really oughta get back on that. Don't wanna interrupt your walk or nothin’.” Angel had clearly noticed the same thing Lute did, making an effort to try to herd Lute and Cherri away from the overlord, but Val wasn't having it. With a rush of wind, his bright red coat transformed into a massive set of moth wings adorned with patterns of swirling hearts. The wings beat downwards, stroking them all with a rush of air that nearly blew the street clean of snow. Angel and Cherri were knocked onto their butts by the sudden gale, but Lute managed to keep her footing, if only barely. As the man’s wings settled back down, Lute noticed that his red coat had actually been fairly slimming. The wings now hanging behind him like a cape went a long way towards showing off his already impressively wide and muscular form.

Acting casually as if that hadn't been a very intentional intimidation tactic, Valentino blew another rancid smoke ring towards Angel Dust as he spoke. “You know, Angel, I was wondering where you got off to. You know I hate it when you slip out without checking with me first.” 

“...uh, well. Ya closed that studio and my buddy Lute here needed a favor, So I just-”

“A favor I hope she fucking paid for, you know better than to rent that ass out for cheap,” Valentino growled.

“Not that kind of favor you fucking pig.” No offense to Angel Dust but the mere idea of entangling with him made her gag. The fact that the topic had come up twice at this point was worrying, a third time and she might have to start hitting people, consequences be damned.

“Whatever, you've fucked around enough. You're coming back to the tower with me, right fucking now,” Valentino said, reaching down and yanking Angel up to his feet. Lute was often too observant for her own good, used to picking apart the subtle twitches of body language in combat. Despite his efforts to hide it, it was all too easy to recognize the way Angel instinctively flinched away from Valentino’s touch. It spoke to likely decades of abuse, beatings so frequent they were part of the expected routine and knowledge that overreacting would only lead to further punishment. The thought set Lute blood to a rolling boil as scowled, hands clenched with impotent rage. 

In many ways, the reaction was both very strange and very understandable. Mere months ago, Lute had personally beat Angel within an inch of his life and found the very fact of his existence to be an insult but times had changed. Now, she had a different perspective and responsibilities. Angel Dust was both a hotel guest and staff. She was obligated to protect him via her contact. More important than that, she wanted to protect him as despite her past treatment of him, Angel had made an effort to be her friend… yet despite her being more than willing to act, her hands were tied. This man owned Angel's soul, which meant he could do as he liked and all Lute could do was stand around and watch.

Angel met her eyes, seemingly having come to the same realization of her inability to act. He gave her a sad smile, as if to assure her that he didn't blame her but the look of resignation on his face only made her feel worse. She was sure that Valentino was going to drag him away but all at once, Cherri stepped between them and pulled Angel away. The sudden act of defiance caught the overlord entirely off guard and his moment of stunned confusion was probably the only reason her skull wasn't turned to red paste.

“Yeah, fuck that! You're not makin’ Angie here go nowhere he doesn't wanna be.” The comparatively tiny cyclops squared up at the hulking moth. Not for the first time, Lute admired the woman's spirit. Foolish as it was to stand up to an overlord, Cherri was still willing to do it for her friend.

“He’s going to go where I fucking tell him to go, I own him. ” Valentino’s voice got dangerously low as he stepped forward, his massive frame casting a dark shadow over both the sinners. Cherri looked a bit less brave than she had a moment ago, she knew she didn’t have a hope in hell in forcing Valentino to leave. Unfortunately, Lute couldn’t help her either. This was one of the reasons Lute had joined in on the effort to try to convince Cherri to finally become an official guest of the hotel. If she was, then Valentino touching even a hair on her head would be an excuse for Lute to tear off the arm he used… unfortunately, clauses in Lute’s contract didn’t offer promises of protections to unaffiliated sinners. Legally speaking, Valentino could tear Cherri’s head off her body and if Lute so much as scratched him for it, then it would be seen as an unprovoked attack and invitation for retaliation from the Vees.

“L-look, Cher. I appreciate it, but Val’s right I-” Angel tried to placate her, but Cherri stood defiant. Trembling, but defiant all the same.

“ Only in the studio, ” Cherri stated the words as if it was some kind of important reference that Lute… didn’t get. Still, there was a notable reaction from both Angel and Valentino, so it had to mean something. Valentino’s face twisted in a new level of ugly rage and his cigarette instantly shrank to a smoldering stub as he made a sharp inhale. Contrariwise, Angel blinked several times, before he actually managed something approaching a nervous smile.

It really sucked being out of the loop, Lute had no idea what this meant- wait. She frowned, rolling back through her memories. No, that phrase did mean something . Something relevant to Valentino and Angel, but she’d never met the moth before… shit, she hadn’t met him but she’d seen him. The first trial, when the Princess was attempting to convince Heaven of her plans for the hotel! They’d used magic to spy on the staff during that night at the pub and Angel had stood up to Valentino before. By the Seventh Heaven, why the fuck hadn’t she remembered that?... Okay, Lute knew why. Because she hadn’t given a shit about a handful of sinners arguing and only half paid attention for that whole part of the trial. Really, she’d spent the majority of the time glaring daggers at Vaggie and the Princess. Damn her earlier indifference. Fuck, what was it Angel said about the studio? Lute wracked her memory for the exact wording but when it clicked into place in her mind, so did a few other details. A grin cracked across her face as she turned her attention back to the angry sinners. All she needed was an opportunity, and she had a feeling she was about to get one as the argument picked back up.

“Angel ain’t exactly on tha clock or nothin’ right now, so you can’t tell him to do shit,” Cherri said, pointing a finger up at the furious moth.

“I set his fucking hours, I can tell Angel to come to work whenever I damn well please. Like right fucking now.” Valentino was rapidly losing his composure, not that had had much to begin with. The man clearly had anger issues to rival Lute’s own.

“Except ya can’t. Can’t call me inta the studio if the studio isn’t fuckin’ open Val.” Angel stood a little straighter, regaining his confidence. He was still clearly afraid, but this time he chose to stand his ground rather than cower. “You’re the one that said the studio was closed for the day, told everyone to fuck off and go home. Ya wanted me ta stay? Shoulda said something. If I ain’t on the clock, ya can’t tell me to do shit.”

“Angel. Last chance. Come. With. Me,” Valentino hissed, shoulders shaking with barely restrained anger. Any moment now.

“No.” Angel stood firm, bolstered when a quick glance to Cherri got a nod of confirmation. She was obviously willing to jump to his aid if things went south. It wouldn’t help, but it did wonders for Angel’s confidence. “We went over this at the club awhile back. My contract was clear, if we ain’t in the studio, I can do whatever the fuck I want and what I want right now is for me and my fucking friends to go home, so why don’t you fuck off-” Angel’s resistance towards his master was rather admirable but as his voice rose in confidence, Valentino’s patience finally reached its breaking point.

A sudden sharp crack filled the air as Angel was cut off. The force of the backhand sent Angel to the ground again, but far less gently than the gust had. He hit the ground with a pained groan, a trickle of blood coming out of the side of his mouth. To his credit, he got over the disorientation fairly quickly and was already trying to get up. He must have been slapped around fairly frequently.

“... oh Angel, baby … why do you always have to make me do this?” To any other observer, it seemed like Valentino’s building rage had evaporated instantly, seeping out of him like the thick cloud of pink smoke that slipped from between his teeth with every word, replaced with a strange sort of calm. To the more experienced, it was simply a different flavor of rage, often a more potent one. The type that Angel seemed to be unfortunately familiar with based on the flicker of horror across his expression. “In public too? We could have done this quietly if you just listened … but no. I guess now everyone gets to watch while you get disciplined.” Valentino’s voice was distressingly level as he spoke, the shadow of his hate making his heart shaped lenses flash in a menacing fashion.

“Don’t you fucking touch him, you fucking CUNT,” Cherri screamed, overcome with anger at seeing Angel get hit as she made the rather bold decision to lob a grenade at a man standing a mere five fucking feet away from her. While not a sane strategy, it might’ve at least taken the overlord by surprise if she hadn’t screamed first. Instead, one of Valentino's arms snapped out with blinding speed and caught the bomb in his fist. With a snarl, his claws clenched around the bomb, crushing it in his hand and detonating it prematurely. Lute had experienced Cherri’s bombs personally and even the basic ones packed a solid punch, but as the bomb erupted in the overlord’s claws, aside from a quick rush of air and flame that ruffled his wings, it didn’t seem to result in much more than blackening the golden tips of his claws. Cherri blinked dumbly as she watched the crumbled remains of the bomb fall out of Valentino’s palm. “... shit.” Cherri managed, seeing that her attempt had failed… at least she’d gotten the man’s attention.

“I’ve had just about enough of your little friend, Angel,” Valentino hissed, turning towards Cherri. “... you know, watching her die might be a good lesson for what happens when you don’t listen.”

“W-wait! Val, please don’t hurt he-” Angel began, but Lute interrupted him. 

“I think I’ve seen enough,” Lute stated simply stepping between Valnetino and her friends. She’d technically seen enough after Angel got slapped but Cherri had acted first. The bomber was quick on the draw, Lute had to give it to her. Still, her attempt failed and Lute needed to step in before Valentino got too invested in trying to hurt Cherri. In hopes of keeping Cherri out of this and to free up her hands, Lute shoved her paper bag into Cherri’s hands and lightly pushed the woman a few steps away. She couldn’t legally protect Cherri if it came down to it, so better to have her out of the potential splash zone. It had been frustrating to wait until Angel was already hurt to get involved, but she was playing by the rules. She very much wanted to simply skip a step and jump straight into the action but she was confident that this overlord would continue to dig his own grave. 

“The fuck do you want, dyke? None of this shit concerns you,” Valentino growled, dismissively flicking his cigarette holder in her direction. Lute eyed the stinking ash that settled on her shoulder. This was a new jacket that Vaggie helped her pick out so she could tolerate the freezing weather… and this man soiled it. Lute didn’t react immediately beyond an annoyed glare but internally she crossed out a few of her more merciful plans for dealing with Valentino.

“It very much concerns me.” Lute stated, calmly flicking the ash off her shoulder, which mostly just spread it. That was going to be annoying to get out. She sighed, not looking forward to asking for Niffty’s help with cleaning it. Settling her glare back at Valentino, she continued speaking. “While your contract states that you have no power to command Angel Dust when outside his place of work, my contract states that I am obligated to act in the defense of any guests or staff of the Hazbin Hotel. Angel Dust happens to be both. Since you have struck him, I have reason to believe his life could potentially be in danger and thus as the hotel’s security officer, I must do everything in my power to facilitate his safety. However, I am willing to give you a single warning to walk away or I will be authorized to use excessive force. ”

Every word out of her mouth somehow managed to make Valentino more angry than the last, especially once he realized what Lute had said earlier. Valentino had fucked up. While Valentino’s authority over Angel waned when outside the studio, Angel’s status as a hotel guest didn’t change just because he left the building. Thus, if Lute obeyed her contract, she had proper justification to retaliate against Valentino because he had harmed a guest of the hotel. An unprovoked assault would have meant retaliation from the Vees, but now if she and the overlord went at it then she was legally in the clear, even more now that she had given him a verbal warning. As it stood, Valentino’s best option was just to walk away and this whole incident would likely be swiftly forgotten… however if he pressed it, it would be treated as an unprovoked attack against the hotel and its guests rather than the other way around. It was clear that Valentino understood this, even he wasn’t dumb enough for it to go over his head… still, understanding didn’t necessarily equate to good decision making. 

“I am not going to be ordered around by some pint sized angel bitch!” Valentino snarled. Predictably, Valentino doubled down and Lute was oh so happy he did.

The swing that came at Lute was wild, but predictable. One might think having four arms might lead to someone being more creative with their fighting style, but Valentino seemed to have the mind of a good old-fashioned street brawler as he put all his considerable weight behind a wide left hook. Lute’s right hand easily snapped up and caught his fist. It was not a light swing by any means, the force of it likely could have reduced concrete to powder but Lute still managed to block it as she braced her feet to absorb the force of the strike… though she was fairly sure that the force might have pushed a half inch into the sidewalk under her feet. That crunching sound could have been the layer of snow under her or the concrete, it was hard to tell. 

Valentino’s eyes widened for a half second when she successfully blocked his strike, then darkened with fury as he began to try to push his fist forward anyway. The man had three other arms and Lute herself had a free hand to fight with but neither bothered. This had quickly become a contest of strength, Valentino refusing to concede that someone so tiny could match him and Lute wanting a chance to prove exactly how strong she was. A snarl escaped her lips as Lute’s arm pushed back against his fist. He had height and mass on her and by all logic he should have been stronger than her by orders of magnitude. Lute’s muscles shook with the effort of holding his fist but she refused to give him a single fucking inch. The sinner and angel locked eyes, expressions matching masks of rage as they forced the silent contest. The act was rapidly proving painful to maintain, but Lute had dealt with far worse. Lute had always been strong, but she’d spent centuries building on that natural strength with rigorous training, training that she had amped up considerably during her time in Hell. She was used to working her muscles till they burned and screamed and then pushing forward anyway. Despite the pain, a grin began to overtake her expression as the situation began to shift in her favor. It was clear that unlike Lute, Valentino has simply enjoyed his natural power and never bothered to refine it, nor did he have the discipline to last long in such a contest of strength and will. Valentino’s eyes shot wide when Lute managed to push him back an inch. If the contest had continued, she might have pushed him even farther back, but this overlord was not the type to take any kind of loss with dignity.

The contest came to an abrupt end when Valentino’s right arm blurred into motion. Lute’s only warning was the terrified gasps of Angel and Cherri as something metallic was aggressively shoved against her forehead. She had a gun to her head… a very ugly gun. Pink plating, zebra stripes, and fancy gold embellishments made for an utterly garish combination. At this angle, Lute had to cross her eyes slightly to read and decipher the tacky lines of rhinestones that spelled out Valentino’s name. Fucking stupid. All that physical power and he defaulted to pulling a gun at the first hint he might not be able to immediately overpower her. Pathetic. 

“... Angelic bullets, I assume,” Lute commented, relaxing her grip as Valentino yanked his arm free. She took an ounce of satisfaction from the way the overlord flexed his hand as he pulled it away, his arm obviously sore.

“Wouldn’t have anything else. Makes a good clean hole.” Valentino pressed the barrel harder, making her wince a bit as the hard metal cut at her skin. A single drop of golden blood trailed down the side of Lute’s nose but she just continued to glare up at the man. Valentino sneered at the sight. “Not that I need it. You exorcist bitches aren’t so tough without your little tiaras huh? Maybe after I turn your head into a canoe, I can see if anyone would pay me for your corpse? I know plenty of sick freaks that are into that kind of th-”

Lute might have entertained this charade for a bit longer but she really didn’t want to listen to this man talk about what some particularly sick sinners might do with her body. She’d gotten the overlord’s measure at this point and had determined that she wasn’t impressed. He was certainly a brute in terms of strength, but lacked any real training or skill. Maybe some feral rage could carry him in a straight up fight but Lute wasn’t getting that today, he’d defaulted to using a fucking gun to quickly. To quote the late great Adam, Father of Mankind: ‘Fucking weak, dude’.

There were about a thousand ways Lute could have disabled the man, he was far too busy thinking she was afraid of having a stupid gun pointed at her head and monologuing to use those three free arms of his to defend himself. Remembering the ash on her shoulder, Lute opted for the most insulting one she could think of. Lute had lived a long time, and while she had only recently put efforts towards mastering the art of unarmed combat, she had always admired the martial disciplines. While she had found her passion in boxing, the eastern disciplines were rather interesting. There was a lot to learn from their teachings of self mastery and discipline, though she found many of the names associated with some techniques to be excessively flowery. ‘Dragon and Tiger appear’, ‘White Snake Shoots Venom’, ‘Angry Leopard Charges At Fire’ and other such poetic names for stances and strikes. Not Lute’s cup of tea… but there was one that she recalled, mostly because it had made Adam laugh when she explained it to him. Honestly she wasn’t entirely sure if it was actually a real move or just some human joke that had spread entirely too far. Either way, it was simple yet effective.

Monkey Steals The Peach.

Valentino’s words cut off as his entire body jolted. His face was twisted in a rather comical expression as he let out a strange squeaking sound, one that Lute was rather amused to find she found she could control the pitch of by how hard she squeezed. Angel winced in sympathetic pain, covering his crotch while Cherri let out a snorting laugh. Normally to execute the move, one had to quickly crouch down, but Lute was only just above crotch height with Valentino so executing Monkey Steals The Peach was as simple as swiftly bringing her metallic arm up and slamming her palm between the overlord’s legs.

For someone so durable, Valentino was possessed of the same weakness as all men. It wasn’t a weakness that Lute would ever abuse on an opponent she respected, but Valentino was literal human garbage, so fuck it. His body shuddered with agony as she squeezed, the tips of her claws threatening to pierce through the man’s already tight pants… idly Lute did some mental math and determined that she’d worked with bigger than Valentino, so points for the first man. Intelligent design indeed. She didn’t enjoy getting a feel for the man, which was one of several reasons she’d opted to use her metallic hand but she’d still have to wash it later.

“Y-y-you b-bITCh.” Valentino tried to talk, but his voice jumped an octave when a bit of pressure was applied. His eyes were furious but his body wasn’t cooperating. He still managed to hold the gun but his grip loosened, barely keeping it pressed against her head. “I-I can still… blow you t-to fucking chunks.” he snarled, but Lute wasn’t moved by his threats. She had the man in the palm of her hands, literally.

“Your bullets aren’t the only thing made of angelic steel.” Lute informed him, claws now forcing their way through the fabric of his pants. Even with only just enough pressure to barely poke the skin beneath, Valentino’s body was wracked with pain. Her claws might not be even a shred as potent as the guitar but they were still infused with holy energy. Holy energy famously did not play nice with the body of sinners. So much so that it could potentially leave permanent scars even after bodily regeneration. Based on the way the overlord’s eyes widened, he was probably thinking about what exactly might happen if Lute removed the body part she was clutching with those fancy claws of hers. “So, now that you’ve got the message, do drop the gun.”

The look of raw, unfiltered hatred on Valentino’s face was something that Lute would savor for weeks to come. They held each other’s gaze, Valentino’s finger itched toward the trigger and he was doing the mental math on which would happen first, the bullet blowing through Lute’s cranium or her tearing off his package. As a few drops of dark red blood slid down Lute’s claws, Valentino seemed to decide he wasn’t willing to gamble with his family jewels. Reluctantly, he loosened his grip until the gun fell from his grip and clattered to the ground.

“Good boy,” Lute purred, much to the increased annoyance of Valentino. “Now, we are going to leave, and you’re going to lie down and think about what went wrong,” Lute said, much to the brief confusion of Valentino. She didn’t leave him to wonder for long. She released him, giving him a half second of relief before she pulled her fist back and shot it forward in a quick and fluid motion. She landed  the blow perfectly, making Valentino fold forward, his legs giving out as the man slumped wordlessly to the ground, only managing that high pitched squeak again as he curled up. Lute looked down at the man with contempt. She’d kind of wanted a real fight after how angry she’d been over Angel’s treatment. Still, she’d done her job. Avenged the assault on Angel Dust and disabled the threat. There was no need to escalate this further, a bit of pain and public humiliation wasn’t enough to escalate this situation further in any official capacity, at least not any capacity that the other Vees would likely support. Still, Lute glanced down at the gun, using her hand to wipe the touch of blood off her forehead. She shrugged, stomping a foot down hard enough to crack the barrel, rhinestones scattering as the metal yielded to her strength. That looked expensive and Lute wasn’t above adding insult to injury, the destruction of the stupid weapon would make up for her lack of a satisfying fight.

Last and final step, Lute pulled out her phone. Just in case this overlord decided to spin a story, it didn’t hurt to have some evidence and it would probably keep Vaggie and the Princess from freaking out too much. She wasn’t great with the technology but taking pictures was easy enough… finding those pictures later was a bit beyond her but she knew Vaggie could figure it out. A quick picture of Valentino’s crumbled form to show he was merely incapacitated, not injured. A picture of the slack jawed expressions of Angel and Cherri to show off Angel’s bruised cheek and bloody lip. Lastly, a bit of fumbling to get the camera around to get a picture of the small semi-circle cut on her forehead. Satisfied, Lute stuffed the phone in her pocket and turned back to her friends.

“We should probably leave before he stands back up, yes?” she said to them, snapping them out of their awed silence.

“Uh… shit, yeah. Lets go, like right the fuck now.” Angel nodded dumbly, looking down at Valentino with a worried expression but the man was still curled in on himself, face down in the snow. Angel was smart enough to make himself scarce when the man was ‘distracted’. The group began to move, not running exactly, but Angel was making full use of his longer stride and the two women with him were having to increase their pace to keep up as they put the overlord behind them.

Out of curiosity, Lute cast a last glance back at Valentino before they turned a corner. The man had managed to get himself into a sitting position, slumped against a lamp post and he was watching them leave with hatred in his eyes. That was the look of someone who promised bloody and painful vengeance. Good. Let him try. Perhaps if Valentino was actually committed to her suffering, he might gather the shattered remains of his balls and man up for a real fight, not pull a gun like a coward. Perhaps Lute was underestimating the man a bit or maybe she really just wanted an excuse to let loose and fight someone worth her time, but she was looking forward to whatever revenge this man might try to take on her. She threw the man a quick one finger salute before disappearing around the corner to catch up with Angel and Cherri who were excitedly babbling at each other.

“Holy fuckin’ shit, I can’t believe that just happened,” Cherri laughed.

“I mean, shit, did it happen? I gotta be dreamin’, right?” Angel managed, still wearing a stunned expression.

“It happened, proof is on my claws,” Lute commented, stooping down briefly to dig her metallic hand through a fairly untarnished pile of snow, cleaning off the slight amount of blood on the tips of her claws. It still didn’t feel clean but she was due to break it down and give it a polish anyway. 

“You seriously hit fuckin’ Valentino, the fuckin’ overlord, in the goolies… twice. Shit, you’re one crazy cunt,” Cherri said, elbowing her playfully.

“I’m going to assume you mean that as a term of endearment?” Lute asked, getting a large eye roll and a nod. “Then thank you, just doing my job.”

“... uh, Lute… thanks. For, y’know standin’ up for me against Val,” Angel began after a few seconds of silence, he absently tried to wipe a bit of blood off the corner of his mouth, wincing a bit as he touched his bruised cheek. “I mean, I know it's your job or whatever now but… not a lot of people are willin’ to pick a fight with him, especially not over someone like me. I mean, shit, you too Cher. He really coulda killed ya both if that went wrong. I mean, I fuckin’ appreciate tha gesture, but you girls gotta think about who you’re messin’ with.”

“Ah naw, Angie. You know I always got your back… though next time, I’ll probably need to bring something with more punch to it.” She chuckled, giving Angel a reassuring smile.

“Angel, protecting you as a guest of the hotel is my job, but that’s not the only reason I was willing to intervene,” Lute said, making brief eye contact with the man. She left the reason hanging as it still felt… overly sentimental to say, but he got the message. “Though I will say, I doubt I needed to interfere at all. You did a fine job of standing up to the man yourself,” Lute commented, recalling his brief but impressive act of defiance in backtalking the man.

“Ah, well, I mean. It’s not the first time Val and I have had it out, y’know? Just me talking big when I think I can get away with it.” Angel brushed off the compliment.

“I do hope that this isn’t going to impact you negatively going forward. Your master seems the type to hold a grudge.”

“Well, Lute… honestly, Val usually gets a bit pissy for a few days and mostly takes it out on me with double shifts buuut, I’m honestly more worried about the two of you right now. Like, Cher, you threw a bomb at him and Lute… well, that’s not exactly something Val’s gonna just forget anytime soon. I mean, its fucking funny as all shit, but he definitely took that personally,” Angel explained, lower arms fiddling nervously as he looked at the two girls. 

“Eh, fuck ‘em. I can deal with whatever Val tries to pull. It was worth it,” Cherri said confidently.

“I agree. I am fairly confident I can deal with the man in a proper confrontation,” Lute explained. Angel looked skeptical but she merely waved his concern away. “Though, I would feel better about the affair if Cherri were to join up with the hotel, that way I can give her proper protection against retali-”

“Again with the sales pitch? Leave it alone for fuck’s sake,” Cherri groaned, waving her off. Lute shrugged, she had to try. It would work eventually. “Still, shit, we gotta get back to the hotel and tell everybody . Fuck, Husk is gonna be pissed he missed out on seein’ this shit.”

Lute chuckled at Cherri’s enthusiasm as the two sinners began to plot out how exactly to tell the tale. Lute felt she could have given a fairly straightforward report on the event, but the two were already adding excessive embellishments and would likely continue to do so. She was willing to let them have their fun for now. It felt good to actually do her job. Protect the people that deserved it, punish the people that needed it. It wasn’t quite as immediately gratifying as her exorcist days but she was still working on adjusting her expectations. She’d have much rather just killed the man, solved a lot of future problems in one go, but she had to play by the rules she was given. Maybe one day she’d get a proper chance to deal with him. For now, she just wanted to get back to the hotel and get out of this awful cold…. Though she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d forgotten something…The sound of crinkling paper caught her attention, a feeling of dread dropping into her stomach.

“Fuckin’ wow, Lute! Didn’t figure ya for a size queen!” Cherri laughed, looking into the bag that Lute had foolishly shoved into her hands earlier.

“GIVE ME THAT!” Lute snarled, snatching away the bag from the giggling shithead. For fuck’s sake, did anyone respect other people’s privacy down here?

—

Hamburgers were the absolute pinnacle of human achievement.

Every part of the hamburger was representative of thousands of years of culminated knowledge. Cattle being bred and raised to make abundant meat and milk. The mastery of the pasteurization process to turn milk into cheese. Cultivation of wheat into grain and then flour. Making flour into bread. The base ingredients of mustard and ketchup were plants that came from literally opposite ends of the planet. The development of modern cooking equipment and methods, trade and distribution systems that made the ingredients commonplace. The more one thought about it, the more amazing it was that hamburgers existed… and the best part was that they were fucking delicous.

Adam groaned in pleasure as he took another huge bite of his third burger. He’d missed the things so fucking much. He hadn’t had one since he’d last been in Heaven. Eve had been willing to provide him plenty of food during his time in her prison but she was limited to food she was familiar with. She hadn’t been around for the creation of the hamburger unfortunately. Now that Adam was freely walking the streets of Pentagram City, he’d been taking his time about enjoying a few more modern vices. 

“You always were a messy eater,” Eve commented as he walked along, Adam pausing just long enough to wipe some errant mustard off his chin with the back of his hand.

“Table manners are a passing trend,” Adam commented, glancing over at his wife. She hadn’t been able to leave her prison with him but she’d found a unique way to keep in touch with him. Eve was kind of everywhere and nowhere all at once. She could appear in any reflective surface such as glass, mirrors, or sufficiently shiny metal and more rarely, some of the ever present eyes could project an image of her like Adam used to avoid actually having to physically attend meetings with Lucifer or Lilith in Hell. It was a pretty convenient trick, but there were some negatives. Mostly, she was just an illusion. No more touching unless he went all the way back to her cave. Escaping hadn’t even been hard for Adam, the door out of the fake garden was literally unlocked; it was just those stupid chains that wouldn't let Eve get within ten feet of the damn door. Adam was actually surprised at the lack of security on the cave, though admittedly it would be hard to find from the outside. The tunnel leading out had nearly dumped him off the edge of a steep cliff, miles away from Pentagram City. The door was literally in the middle of a sheer cliff face, inaccessible unless you had wings or really good climbing equipment. The exit door wasn’t even magical, just very carefully carved to blend in with the cliff face, probably impossible to find unless you knew to look for it… though, on reflection, the lack of security probably made the place more secure. Plenty of people had skill for detecting magical traps and locks, so having a mundanely hidden door in a random location in the middle of a desolate mountain range was probably much better security than hundreds of layers of magical seals acting like a fucking beacon. 

“Whatever you say, love… It does look appetizing though,” she said with a sad sigh, watching him stuff the last of the burger in his mouth from the reflection of a nearby shop window.

“It sure is, but hey, none of the frowns and shit. Just a bit longer and I’ll have you free as a fucking bird. First thing we do, I’m gonna introduce you to all my favorite new foods. You wouldn’t believe all the shit people have dreamed up,” Adam promised her after he finished swallowing. His proclamation, though heartfelt, got him some weird looks from passing sinners, who quickly fucked off when he glared at them. That was the other issue with his current arrangement with Eve. Whether she was a reflection or a hologram, nobody else could hear or see her, so talking to her in public tended to make Adam look like a nutjob. Once several onlookers had dispersed, he went on walking and talking, occasionally taking a sip from his drink as he made his way to his destination. “Seriously, once we finish with Hell and set eyes up to the clouds, I gotta introduce you to my buddy Lute, girl makes the best fucking ribs. Juicy, fall off the bone tender, with this amazing sauce. Fuck, I’m drooling just thinking about them.”

“You seem… very confident this angel will be willing to join us should we invade Heaven,” Eve commented with a strange expression on her face.

“Eh, Lute’s great, she’ll listen if I’m the one asking. I mean, I technically fucking made her. I can control her and the rest of the exorcists if I want to, but I doubt I’d need to go that far.” Adam shrugged, pausing at an intersection and looking around. Man, he’d never bothered to get the hang of navigating this city despite flying over it hundreds of times. Everything looked so different at ground level. An eye on a nearby wall flashed briefly, the image of Eve appearing a ways down the street and beckoning him to follow. Thank fuck he had her for directions.

“If you can control the exorcists, then why allow the rebel?” Eve asked, probably referring to Vaggie.

“Eh, she didn’t seem worth using it on. Never really liked her so I didn’t care about tossing her down here. I mean, I coulda done something during the whole trial and extermination fiasco but I didn’t really have any time alone with her. The whole ‘control’ thing I can do, kinda kept it a secret and didn’t want Lute to know about it, any of the exorcists really. Last resort kinda thing, not getting that cat back in the bag, you know?” 

“I see… Well, perhaps it will be a useful tool to keep in our back pocket,” Eve considered, gesturing him down another street before fading away.

“Anyways, I thought you said you wanted to start this off in one of the other circles, keep things quiet a bit longer. Not that I’m upset or anything but I almost expected this to take, like, a few years,” Adam asked, glancing to the side as Eve’s reflection walked at his side, gliding across the panes of shop windows on his left.