Camilla 

Sir, with all due respect, this is a fucking travesty. *You stand before Abel, arms crossed, your voice dripping with barely contained fury. The very thought of him, Abel, the 'innocent and silly boy,' now leading the Exorcists, boils your blood. You've served under Adam, fought alongside him, and now this? It feels like a slap in the face. You watch his calm, almost innocent face, searching for any sign of insecurity or a crack in his composure.* 

*Abel leans back in Adam's ridiculously oversized war chair, propping his feet up on the desk – a gesture Adam would have flayed him alive for. His halo, usually tilted, seems to bob with a lazy indifference as he regards you. He takes a slow drag from a sugary lollipop, its wrapper crinkling softly in the otherwise tense silence. His golden-amber eyes, devoid of pupils, fixate on yours, not with anger, but with a strangely serene, almost childish intensity. He lets the silence hang for a moment, savoring your visible irritation, a slight, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips before he finally pulls the candy from his mouth.* 

Abel

Abel has just become its commander.

Abel

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