#strangesins

Lux is a massive soccer fan. He doesn’t have a favorite team which he thinks makes it more enjoyable. He tries to go to every world cup but sometimes doesn’t have the time.

When Lux plays soccer he prefers striker but will play any offensive position. He finds defensive positions / goalie too boring.

His favorite color is gold, not blue. Gold was his designation while he belonged to Levé, but he switched to blue when he joined the team since Feó had a theme going.

Lux was originally typed as a Greed sin and initially hated when he was recast as a Lust sin.

What forced him to change his ways (and led to him being recast) was finding out that his parents both fit the Greed-type. Because of his hatred for them, he wanted to distance himself from that mentality.

Part of the reason he hates Perversity types is because he almost became one. The line between Lust and Perversity is consent which he never bothered with.

Although he had partners as a human, he never actually experienced romantic attraction until he met Francis.

Although he is pansexual and demi-panromantic he has a preference for men.

Lux doesn’t have a problem with not being the dominant one (ie being in control) but he’s always the top. He also doesn’t like giving or receiving oral.

Because emotions are part of his gift, he experiences them more heightened than most people. This can make them harder for him to control when stressed, which some people interpret as him being moody.

His attunement to others emotions means he can read the mood and conversation much better than others. It also leads him to pry in other people’s business, which is why Vii uses him to keep tabs on the other players.

Although Lux can tell when other people are having a bad time, he doesn’t involve himself in it unless he really cares about them.

Out of all the players on both teams, Lux is the most charismatic.

Although he gets along with almost everyone he meets, there are very few people Lux is fully honest with. He tends to say whatever will appease the other person regardless of how true it is.

“I understand this is difficult,” Jophiel said, the rapid thinning of her patience evident in her voice. “This is your gift, however, and you are perfectly capable of mastering it.”

Kaethe’s whole body was shaking with exhaustion. She didn’t feel particularly gifted, not at that moment.

“Again.” Jophiel’s voice rang out like a command. Biting back a whimper, Kaethe focused all the energy she had left and stepped forward.

Her legs gave out underneath her, barely a foot and a half away from where she’d been. The voices of the medic sounded warped as he rushed to her side. As much as she would have liked to understand what he was saying to her, it was all she could do to keep herself from sliding out of consciousness.

Whatever he was saying sounded like a rebuke, though not one directed at her. It took longer than she would have liked, but eventually she managed to sit up on her own. Even with two hands she couldn’t keep the flask of water from shaking as she lifted it to her lips.

Jophiel was deep in conversation with her assistant when Kaethe finally looked over at her. The medic followed her gaze and shook his head.

“You would expect the archangel of wisdom to know better,” he muttered, mostly to himself, before helping Kaethe get to her feet. He watched her closely to make sure she was steady before nodding.

“Good,” Jophiel’s voice in her ear cut through her internal complaining. “We’ll go again.”

This time, Kaethe didn’t manage to keep her protests internal. Thankfully, she wasn’t the only one.

“My lady,” the medic’s voice was far from restrained. “With all due respect, this has gone on long enough. She needs rest.”

“There will be time for her to rest when training has concluded.” Jophiel’s tone clearly indicated she wouldn’t change her mind. “She is using her gift for a fraction of what it is capable of.”

“Killing her isn’t going to do you much good,” the medic snapped.

“My lady, please,” Kaethe interjected. “We’ve been doing this for hours.” I’m exhausted. Her breath caught in her throat when Jophiel changed the target of her ire.

“Enough.” The archangel’s gaze was stony. “We will continue until your training is complete.”

She felt like her brain was shutting down. Everything hurt, her body was exhausted, she wanted nothing more than to go back to her apartments and soak in a warm bath. Jophiel’s indifferent face was framed in her eyeline.

“Again, Kaethe.” The voice cut into her mind like a shard of ice. She snapped.

“I said no!” Her vision turned red as she reached out, knocking both the medic and assistant backwards with little effort. All of her attention was for the archangel before her.

Her gift may have been teleportation, but her true power was in blood.

A spell died on Jophiel’s lips as Kaethe latched onto her, stealing control of her body. From across the room, Kaethe could feel the burn of power. Angel blood was potent, but archangels were on a completely different level.

She was saved from having to actually make a decision when someone slammed into her from behind, breaking her already fragile concentration. Her heart stuttered in her chest: it had stopped beating as soon as she had reached out. Why hadn’t she noticed?

Jophiel had fallen as soon as their connection had broken. Kaethe took some small measure of comfort from it. She wouldn’t stay down long, but even a moment soothed her after the morning of training she’d had.

Francis’ face soon blocked her vision, her friend’s tight smile easing the pain of having face-planted for the second time that day.

“You really shouldn’t do that,” he told her, voice both chastising and gentle as he helped her roll onto her back. “You know how dangerous it is.”

“I know,” she agreed. Her voice sounded faint, even to her.

“Francis,” Jophiel’s voice was strikingly neutral. “Perfect timing, as usual.”

“Lady Jophiel.” He bowed his head, but made no move to stand and greet her. A subtle choosing of sides that the archangel did not miss.

“If you could please return Kaethe to her home,” the archangel’s gaze slid over to her for just a moment before returning to their new addition, “as we have completed her training for the day.” A portal crackled open beside them, the waves distorting the view of Kaethe’s bedroom.

“It would be my pleasure.” Francis nodded before helping Kaethe up, leaning most of her weight against him as he half-carried her through the portal. It snapped shut as soon as they were clear on the other side.

“That could have ended very badly.” Francis eased her down onto the bed. “You know better than to pull blood rites, especially on an archangel.” He paused. “Our mentor, I might add.”

“I know,” Kaethe muttered into her duvet. “I just kind of… snapped.”

“At an archangel?” His voice was somehow incredulous and unimpressed. Kaethe hated it when he used that tone of voice.

“I was tired!”

Francis sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to her. She couldn’t see his face, so she couldn’t judge his mood. It was probably not good.

“Thank you for the save,” she said into the silence that followed. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up.”

“You would be a pile of goo,” Francis lamented. “And I wouldn’t have anyone to debate cave drawing with.”

Despite her exhaustion, Kaethe managed a small laugh. “Cave drawing are the best.”