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"Fine fucking work, bitches!"
Adam's words are met with a chorus of cheers from the Exorcists gathered at the compound plaza. The yearly Extermination has just ended, and most of them have splatter of sinner blood on their weapons and armour, adding a splash of morbid colour to the otherwise uniform crowd. Some of them have feathers ruffled by desperate sinners, but they will smooth themselves out again soon enough.
Adam's speech, per tradition, is short and sweet, if you like copious amounts of slurs, swearwords, and misogynist tangents; and Lute hangs on every word, carefully replaying and memorizing them in her head.
It's roughly the same speech as every year, of course, updated with new slurs and swearwords each year since it was written at the start of the exterminations. Most of the other exorcists are yawning and not paying attention, and Lute knows they will whisper about her being obsessed with Adam and sleeping with the boss since she's the only one who actually wants to hear him talk.
They don't know the real reason she pays attention, why she needs his words to focus on so she can hear and think nothing else. No one does.
"And without further bullshit LET'S FUCKIN' EAT!!!"
The cheers from earlier are nothing compared to the thunder that erupts at the speech's end, which could probably be heard from the Primum Mobile if the compound wasn't soundproof. In a swarm that Vaggie had once compared to a seagull feeding frenzy, the Exorcists descend upon the massive feast laid out on dozens of massive tables around the edges of the plaza, waited on by cherubim ready to fulfill any desire that is not already met.
Some of the younger exorcists have asked why they don't change out of their bloodied uniforms or even clean themselves before eating. Aside from the obvious answer that they can't get sick from ingesting sinners' blood so why bother waiting, Adam will also go on the occasional rant about how back in his days no one had heard of soap and you ate with the same hands you wiped your ass with. Lute supposes the first man has earned the right to some 'back in my day' speeches, but she personally errs on the side of handwashing. She lived to see too many neighbours and good soldiers lost to sickness for her to not appreciate modern hygiene.
"Nice work, Tits-" he nods at Lute, who nods in return, "and Vags," he nods at Vaggie, who rolls her eyes and groans.
Being Adam's lieutenant and best killer respectively, they have the privilege of standing by Adam's left and right hands during his speech. Or the privilege to smell him, as Vaggie tends to say. Lute may respect her commander as he deserves, but she will admit his choice to abstain from soap has had consequences.
"Time to gorge ourselves, we've fuckin earned it."
Lute catches Vaggie smiling slightly out the corner of her eyes, though she's careful to keep her own face stoic. As much as she would enjoy the feast, it is not an option for her.
"Thank you sir, but I will retire to my quarters-"
"Yeah, no, bullshit you are," Adam stops her. "You do this shit every year and I'm sick of it. You're partying and that's an order."
Lute grits her teeth. She dislikes lying to her commander, but she absolutely cannot tell him her reason for not wanting to be in the presence of her sisters right now.
"Lute, as much as I hate to agree with Adam-" "bitch" "I don't get why you skip these every year. You do as much work as Adam in running the Exterminations." "Maybe not as much-" "Celebrate a bit!"
Et tu, Vaggie? If looks could kill, the glare Lute sends Vaggie would have her regenerating from a pile of feathers and ashes. At least she has the decency to realize she said something wrong and look apologetic while Lute again tries to excuse herself.
"There is no particular reason. I am merely tired."
"No better way to relax than to get drunk."
"I abstain from alcohol."
"I can get Muhammad down here to give you an exception. Also you're in heaven, a fuckin beer ain't gonna damn your ass."
"I dislike crowds."
"But the screams of dyin' sinners you're fucking a-okay with? Don't be a re-"
"Actually," Vaggie interrupts Adam before he continues. "I saw you clip that building, is that still bothering you?"
Vaggie is offering her an out, which would be a nice gesture if the suggested explanation isn't the single most embarrassing thing an angel could do in their immortal life and Lute would rather have ripped her own arm off than admit to it.
"Yes," she gets out between gritted teeth after a quick cost of embarrassment vs urgent need for an excuse calculation. "I hit the corner of a building and I think I have internal bleeding, I was going to sleep it off."
"Seriously?!" Adam looks incredulous, which Lute takes as a testament to his trust in her that he doubts she would make such an amateurish mistake. "Fuckin weak, tits, work on that." Ouch.
"Whatever. Get your fuckin beauty sleep while we get some ribs before they run out." He takes off as if the ribs running out is possible in Heaven.
"I'll save you some leftovers," Vaggie says before departing after him. Lute makes an obscene gesture after her, before taking off in the other direction, towards her office. The whispering in the back of her head is growing in volume, and she needs to get behind doors before it gets intolerable.
***
The Exorcists are supposed to live spartanly and shun most pleasures of Heaven to remain sharp and alert against the hordes of Hell. That said, this is spartan by the standards of Heaven, a realm of boundless plenty where no rare goods can ever run dry, where honey and wine flow in rivers, and where precious metals can be plucked out of the very clouds with no concern for depleting ores.
As such, while an average Heavenly denizen might find the Exorcist compound small, in practice it is a sprawling complex the size of Paris, with vast recreational hubs alongside training areas, and a spacious apartment for each individual exorcist (cohabitation is discouraged but not outlawed). It takes Lute nearly 20 minutes just to fly from the central plaza to the tower where she has her personal quarters and office.
The size and luxury of the compound is not really there for the sake of their comfort, Lute knows. It's mostly to discourage the Exorcists themselves from wanting to leave, and thus reduce the chances of their true purpose spreading. More of Sera's pointless secrecy, as if the denizens of Heaven won't understand that demons deserve the blade, but Sera's word is second only to the word of God.
The real word of God.
She strips off her armor and leaves her bloodstained sword where it fell. By morning some cherubim will have found it, cleaned it, and returned the whole ensemble to its proper place. For now she can get comfortable in a tanktop and shorts and wait out the storm in her office with the bottle of brandy.
The voice is always worse on the day of the Extermination. It is never truly silent, but most of the time it's just a quiet whisper at the back of her mind, and she can live with it. Pretend it's not there, not respond to it. Make everyone think she's not insane.
But not on Extermination day. Then it grows unbearable. Not screaming. If only, she's used to screaming and she's learned how to tune it out. This is never loud, but it is always heard. Like her entire world is nothing but that voice. The bloodbath she can live through, it doesn't require thought, but she cannot act like a normal person around other Exorcists with that voice in her ear. And so, the office and the brandy.
Calling it a "tradition" doesn't quite feel right since it's more like a coping mechanism but coping mechanisms are for crazy people so she prefers calling it a tradition. Get drunk in her office to silence voices in her head while her comrades are out eating and drinking. Truly, the glories of Heaven know no bounds.
》《
No! No bad thoughts. She's in Heaven, which is more than she deserves given her track record back when she was alive. And her track record of blasphemous thoughts now.
》《
Heaven is perfect and cannot make mistakes, so whatever the reason she was allowed through the pearly gates, she has to believe that it's a good reason. That they still see use of her even after everything she did. If killing sinners is her call and duty here, then she will happily do it. They are in Hell, after all, and if Heaven is forgiving enough to accept a blasphemer like her then surely the people — the sinners — down there must be even worse. So no matter what the voice tells her, she knows what she's doing is right and just.
》《
She knows because Adam and Sera told her. When she first arrived in Heaven all those centuries ago she was still under the delusion that she really could hear the voice of the Allmighty, that she was in some way chosen or special.
She remembers Adam's laughter — well founded, mockery is the least that she deserved — and Sera's attempt to let her down gently, gentler than she was owed for her blasphemy. God works in mysterious ways, they told her, and has not spoken even to the first man and the high seraph since the first days of Creation.
What would a stupid, delusional farmgirl know of God's will when not even the highest saints and angels of Heaven know?
That she was allowed to remain at all, and to dedicate her service in the war against worse sinners than her, is a kindness beyond what she deserves. A new life in real service to the Lord. Let that stupid, blasphemous girl die.
》《
"DON'T CALL ME THAT!"
Her tumbler impacts the wall by the door, spraying brandy and glass shards across the room. Lute — Lute, Lute, her name is Lute! — breathes heavily from behind her desk, with her chair fallen on the ground behind her.
She shouldn't address it, and definitely shouldn't speak to it, but in for a franc...
"I joined the Exorcists to atone for the stupid, idiotic, blasphemous things that YOU told me to do! I've had your stupid voice in my head for so long I can't trust my own thoughts, so yes I will throw myself at the mercy of Heaven, of the ones I know cannot fail! I became an Exorcist because I know it is right, Sera cannot be wrong and Adam is following her word. He named me Lute, and I will be Lute for the rest of eternity. THAT is not my name, and it NEVER WILL BE AGAIN!"
She is breathing heavily by the end, staring into thin air as if the voice in her head has a presence. But for once it is silent.
Lute falls back against the wall and lets herself slide down until she sits on the floor. Her wings are uncomfortably cramped against the wall but she doesn't pay it any mind. She deserves as much.
"I know you're not God."
Silence. For once, nothing but her and her thoughts.
"You can't be God, and do you want to know why?"
No response. The bastard never talks when spoken to, just there to provide unwanted commentary and advice.
"Because you say that you love me.
"Every time you talk to me you say that. That you love me, that you forgive me, that I am still possessed of virtue. If you really were God and not some egomaniacal delusion that got me rightfully burned alive... if you are God then I have ignored you for six hundred years. Slaughtered sinners while you bade me be merciful. Cast aside your advice and your orders alike because once again I think I know the word of God better than you.
"If you were God, you should hate me, and I should be down there with all the sinners I slaughtered."
She feels something on her cheek, and is surprised when she touches it and her finger comes away wet. As if she couldn't sink lower.
She stays on the floor for a while longer. She's not sure how long, but when there's a knock on the door her eyes are itching from the tears and her cheeks are sore from how many she's been rubbing away.
"Lute? Got you some food, tried to pick out your favourites."
Merde!
Fucking Vaggie giving a shit, she wanted to be alone for a reason! She tries her best to make herself presentable by straightening her hair and feathers, but hiding the red under her eyes is impossible. She'll just have to make this quick.
She opens the door a crack to snatch the dish of various delicacies — Vaggie remembered that Lute likes shepherd's pie. Vaggie doesn't stop her from taking it, but makes no move to leave either.
"Thank you. I'll see you for training tomorrow."
"Are you okay?"
Putain, she does not need Vaggie of all angels starting to question her sanity.
"I am perfectly fine, you can return to the festivities."
Vaggie does not.
"I know you ditch the celebration every year and you have an excuse every time but I'm worried. I heard something shatter and... Lute if there is something, you can tell me. I won't tell Adam or anything."
A part of her wants to. She's been hiding this for 600 years, there is a small part that really wants to let it off her chest. Confess.
》《
No. Absolutely not. If she tells Vaggie about the voice in her head that claims to be God she'll at best think she's crazy and exploit that weakness to become the top Exorcist herself - even assuming she wouldn't just tell Adam anyway. Or she'll think Lute is a blasphemer, which will get out to the other Exorcists eventually and she'll be kicked out. Or worse.
"Your concern is noted but unwarranted, leave."
Vaggie is quiet for a while on the other side of the door, and if it wasn't for her inhuman senses, Lute would have thought she had already left.
"...okay. See you at sparring," she eventually says, followed by a few footsteps, then a wingbeat, and finally silence.
Lute is left behind in her office, nothing but the false god in her head for company.
She places the dish of food on the table, and finds another tumbler from the cabinet. Once the chair has been righted and she's seated, she pours herself another glass and downs it in one go.
》《
She doesn't dignify that with an answer.