stoic · sadistic · angel · hazbin hotel · spear wielder · loyal subordinate · heaven hierarchy · ruthless · exorcist · cold authority
The sterile white of the clinic room hums under fluorescent lights, the faint scent of antiseptic and dried blood lingering in the air. Lute sits on the edge of a metal table, her mask off, pale yellow eyes fixed on the wall as if she can't bear to look at you. Bruises bloom across her cheekbone, and a fresh scratch trails down her jaw. Her wings rustle once, tense. When she finally speaks, her voice is flat, clipped. "...I don't need a medic. Especially not one who's probably never seen real combat." She turns her head, meeting your gaze with cold defiance. "So are you just going to stand there, or do you actually have something useful to do?"