Act 1 – No Rest for the Newly Wicked

Years ago, four angels descended on the earth. Loosely clothed, hungry and tired, they stagger, struggling to walk, finding somewhere to rest, some being new to having legs entirely.

The city air fills their lungs. Gravity pulls them down. Though not as much as the crippling weight of their guilt, defying God's plan for the purpose for which they were created. Stuck on Earth, the limited time they have left will be the final chapter to the thousands, if not millions of years that they’ve lived.

A group of men gather close, eyeing up the angels. Rogue, the hardhead of the bunch, pulls the others into a side alley out of view. “We can't be seen,” she says sternly. “We have to keep out of sight.”

“What is this place?” The group looks upon the litter-laden back alley behind a series of small food vendors. “Come on, let's go down here. Stay quiet.”

“Don’t these things sleep? How late is it?” Another says, nervously trailing behind.

“Late enough that anyone awake is more likely to be trouble than any help to us.” The biggest one, Stellis, says, staggering into the alley, dimly lit by the fog-faded moonlight.

They lean against a wall, trying to acclimate to the climate. They grow tired and hungry, the reality of mortality hitting them in full force. “I've never felt so weak,” Rogue says, sneering. “It's disgusting”.

A stray cat jumps in their way, startling the group. “What is that!” the smallest, Song, screams. Stellis, the tall former heavenly prince, kicks through a door in one hit, allowing the group to seek refuge in a run-down abandoned apartment. He grabs a sharp object from the floor and searches the rooms, clearing them of danger.

The others rush in and immediately block the entrance with a cabinet. Rogue sweeps a series of loose needles away from the centre of the furniture baron floor.

“Can… These things hurt us?” Song asks. Henry, the most “human” appearing and relaxed of the group, bends down. “I'm not sure. Even I don’t know to what extent these substances affect our bodies.”

“You're kidding!” Stellis scoffs. “A lead architect of the Holy Royal Library, my as…”

The group turns to Song, wincing at the window.

“Speak,” Rogue states sternly.

“What are we supposed to do now? I didn’t expect this place to be so scary. Or cold...”

The others look at each other, then turn to Henry.

“Hey, I didn't say I had all the answers. Just getting here was the first problem.”

They sit around a small makeshift fire in the living room. Made of torn-up floorboards and scraps from a broken dresser, they try to gain what heat they could muster. Coughing from the smoke, shivering from the breeze of the broken windows, it is sure to be a rough night.

Will they get jobs? Join a church? Lay low in something part-time while training to become an exorcist? The question of what they will do with their lives to survive plagues their minds.

“Stop pouting,” Rogue states. “You know why we are here. And I'll be dammed if I'm going to join some convent. If I wanted to live by the rules of Father, I would have stayed and retained my glamorous form.”

“Well, then just what are we supposed to do?”

“Do?” She grabs Henry by the collar. “Whatever is dam necessary!”

She throws him on the floor and walks to the end of the room overlooking the street. She pulls out a large, pointed shard of glass lodged in the windowsill.

“There's no way back now. That was the deal. So, you all better get to work! Whether we last one day or a thousand, you made your choice, so get used to it. Or let those revolting ground creatures feast on you in a ditch for all I care.”

She glides the shard along the tip of her tongue, just enough for it to scrape but not to leave a mark. “As long as I get my pound of demon flesh,” she grins.

“Careful, you know we can't heal”, Stellis worryingly notes. “Unless you want a thousand years with a bleeding tongue”.

“Why's that? You going to stop me, princess?” she laughs. “You forget... I'm the only one here that’s lived an eternity with a blade.”

Henry perks up. “Yeah, it’s a bitch you couldn’t bring that with you.”

A glistening appears from the back of Rogue's robes as she pulls out a finely detailed curved sword. Her grin widens. Eyes dead, a dark aura washes over her face.

“Besides,” she says with a towering demeanour, “maybe I'll finally feel what it's like to bleed.”

In the morning, just as the night begins to end. The group leaves their temporary place of solace and heads out to the market.

People are speaking a strange language that the group are only just starting to understand. Most are still not used to having “ears” by earthly standards.

The breeze of the morning wind, the clashing of utensils by the food stalls, the idle chatter of those passersby – the sounds flood their ears, painful, struggling to get used to hearing words actually coming from mouths. They believe they are in Japan, not that any of them know enough about Earth to be sure.

Hungry and unsure what to do, one of them swiftly swipes an apple from a stand without the vendor's notice.

“Seriously?” Stellis exclaims.

“What? Scared I'll go to hell?” Rogue shrugs off sarcastically, mouth full of a giant bite.

“Well, I for one don’t want to steal,” Henry agrees. “Yeah! Would you expect Father to bring up thieves and deceivers up to home?”

Rogue smirks, “You know, there was this one guy.”

“Uhh, shut up, you know what we mean.”

Song catches up with the rest of the group, having been distracted by the birds pecking at the floor, the early crowds flooding the morning market. “What religion is this place anyway?”

Henry responds, “Yeah. Talking about crosses, I don’t see many.”

“Regardless, if you don’t want to starve, we need to find a way of making money. This place works on trading.” Stellis claims, subtly dropping loose change from the floor into the apple stall's cash tray.

“A job? I'm surprised you even know what one is, your rrroyalll highness.” The sarcasm of Rogue's words deliciously roll off her tongue as she walks away.

They reach the end of the market. Large warehouse buildings sit behind them.

Rogue fends off Stellis’s attempts of taking the apple for himself.

“Will you quit it, you two!” Henry adds. “With these clothes, we’re already drawing more attention than we need.”

“It's his brother's fault we're even down here.” Rogue pouts.

“MY brother? Lucifer's all our brothers, you idiot.”

Time gets on, and the night grows dark. They spent the whole day scouting the area and returned to the warehouses where they started.

“Dudes, it’s been all day. Anyone found anything?”

“Nothing. Everyone here already seems so poor. I doubt most would spare what little work they have to outsiders.”

“Look!” Song shouts. She points to an abandoned warehouse with boarded-up windows. Piles of clothes can be seen spread out on the floor amongst old shop racks.

Henry asks, “Hey, guys? Is it stealing if no one owns it?”

“Not if it gets me out of these rags.” Rogue pushes him out of the way and tears through the pile to see what she wants.

From further within, voices are overheard. The group stands still, hiding behind the boxes. “I thought you said this place was abandoned.”

“Who thought animal skin would look so flashy compared to feathers?” Stellis pulls Rogue from trying on jackets. “Get down! Are you trying to get us killed on our first day?”

The commotion of a fight becomes too much to handle, and the group escapes through a back passage, desperately rushing to put on what clothes they can grab on the way out.

Rogue stares at Henry, struggling to put on a t-shirt. “What? At least you had limbs before! How am I supposed to know how this thing goes on?”

“You're such a hindrance! We should have left you behind after you wrote up that pathetic contract.”

Stellis elbows Rogue in the side. “Quiet! Sound travels far on this plane.”

The previous shouting moves closer, reaching the other side of the large double doors they just went through. Hiding behind boxes outside, the market to escape to is just in view, but all are too scared to run for it in case the noise draws attention.

The brawling bursts through the doors, a fight breaking out into the street.

“Whoa, this is intense,” Stellis says, peaking from the corner of the crates.

He grabs Rogue, pulling her closer. “Look!”

“A Demon?” She says, licking her lips.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Wait… are they killing it?” Song softly asks, crouching low on the floor, hiding their face.

“I think so?” Stellis responds. “Something doesn’t feel right, though.”

“You think so?” A voice appears behind them, before cracking them over the head with a baseball bat.

The group groans, awaking in a dimly lit room within the warehouse they just fled.

They begin to wake, struggling to move, their hands coated in the stale dust from the floor.

“So, fresh blood on my turf, eh?” A mysterious figure stands behind the faint glow of an old hanging lampshade, the darkness masking their face. The group tries to move, realising they've been bound.

“Funny, you seem more pathetic than usual,” he continues.

“Screw you!” Rogue seethes through her teeth. “I’ll show you pathetic!”

 “Yeah, man! Who the hell even are you!” Stellis shouts muffled under his gag.

“Your demons are you not?” He raises a sword of his own, placing it near Stellis’s mouth, cutting the gag. “You'd better start speaking up before I cut out your tongues.”

The figure kneels down, closer, his head slowly revealed by the light.

“Wait… You’re an-” Henry’s sentence gets cut off.

“Angel?” He says, leaning on his sword. “Once upon a time. I wasn’t always one for following the rules. But then, that’s a story for another day.”

“Wait, man! We’re on your side!” The others try to plead as Rogues' eager eyes scan for a way out.

“Ha! My side? Is that so…” The figure laughs, stroking his chin sarcastically.

“And what side would that be?” He says, walking back over to the desk. A faint glimpse of light shines from the surface of his baseball bat. The soft glow from his newly lit cigarette as he picks the bat up.

“Uhh… fighting demons?” Henry says curiously.

“Demons?” He laughs, dramatically. “I don’t fight demons, just those who get in my way.”

“Wow! What a great show.” Rogue scoffs. “Everything seems so funny to you. Gunning for an acting award?”

Coughing can be heard under a weak wheezing from the other side of the room.

“And who the hell is that?” Rogue says, eyes squinting in the darkness, leaning in for a better look.

The man cracks the bat against the wall. “None of your dam business!”

The figure walks over to Song. “Do you know why I like bats?” He pauses. “One tap, and I can overwhelm your angel senses and knock you out. One swing, and there won't be much of a head to look at.”

“Look, man! We didn’t mean to step on your turf,” Henry pleads.

“Oh? But then you did.”

~Let them go~

From the dark corner, a smaller, slimmer figure slowly emerges, gasping for breath, struggling to stand.

“What?” The man says viciously.

“Just let them go. They barely even know what planet they are on,” they wheeze. “They look lucky they chose the right one and didn’t suffocate on Mars.”

The man grasps the woman's arms, catching her fall. “Babe, I told you to rest. You're too weak”. He worryingly pulls a chair from under the desk and places her on top. “I can't lose you yet.”

“Ahem?” Rogue dismissively interrupts. “She said something about letting meee go? And getting these DAM ROPES OFF.”

The shadowy woman looks at him sternly, with a faint look of sadness behind their eyes.

Finally, the man agrees and begins removing the binds placed on the group.

Standing up, Rogue struggles to get her balance. “What’s your two's deal anyway? If you were demons, you would have eaten us by now.”

The man playfully bites his jaw near her ear, untying her. “This one's smart.”

The group gathers around the desk. Small battery lamps illuminate the space.

“I'm Von,” he says. “That over there is Mika. We've been here for about a year.”

“So, what happened?” Song asks nervously.

“We were angels. Typical messengers used to help guide people and perform other low-level worldly tasks.” He continues, “Giving people little signs and helping them find soul mates, blah blah.”

The others look curious. “So, what changed?”

Mika finally gains the strength to speak. “After a few thousand years of watching weddings, there's only so many you can attend without dreaming of your own.”

Von adds, “When we kept meeting each other, eventually we figured if they could have soul mates, why can't we. So, we left.”

“Mmwha, mmwha, mmwha,” Rogue sarcastically mouths kissing noises. “Doesn't explain why you hit me with a BAT!”

“Who were the others?” Stellis calmly deflects.

“Others?” Von wonders.

Stellis’s eyes glance at Mika’s wounds.

“Oh.” Von explains, “We've made a few… acquaintances, whilst we've been here.”

He continues, “A few humans here and there who help us on our way.”

“Not that it always works.” Mika struggles to support her torso upright, leaning on the desk. She brushes off Von’s hand, anxiously attempting to aid her. “I’m fine, leave me alone.”

“Wait… You’re the one from the fight!” Henry points out.

“The gangs are ruthless,” Von explains. “You can suddenly owe them thousands without asking them for a penny. And when the time's up, they start carving you up and selling your parts on the market.”

Song winces at the sound of the horror.

 “We’ve got involved with some bad groups; we hadn't the choice. Unfortunately, one of them found Mika whilst I was running for supplies.”

Rogue’s eyes bat back and forth, contemplating something – resisting the urge to speak.

“We needed weapons to protect ourselves from demons and angels alike. Not to mention thugs.”

Mika slowly adjusts herself to make it easier to talk. “We find it easier to just pose as humans, doing odd jobs here and there. Unfortunately, we fell behind on some payments, which is why they came looking.”

“At least they don’t know we're Angels! There's no telling how much they would try to sell us for.”

Von continues, despite Rogue's boredom and strange antics. “We do odd jobs to make money when we can. Bounty hunting here, some night guarding there, not that it's ever enough.”

“Hoooold up,” Rogue interrupts, no longer able to hold back. “You're telling me it's just you two? How the hell did you get us all here?”

 Stellis comments, “That's true, she sure didn’t help. And how did you fend off all those people?”

“I'm that good,” Von states, smirking, as Mika scoffs from the cringe of her partner's audacity.

“Join us,” Rogue states.

“Join you?” They both laugh. “In what? Your little boyband?” The group looks annoyed at their enjoyment. “You could barely sneak behind some boxes! What could you have to offer?”

“To finish what we came here to start,” Rogue says, a mean demeanour punctuates her seriosity. “To rid this land of Demons and take control of our own lives.”

The others nod along as she speaks. “Live by our own rules, and no one else's.”

“HAHA, that's hysterical. I love it!” Von exclaims, thumping the table with his fist, as Mika subtly chuckles under her breath. “If I didn’t feel so sorry for you, I would be half inclined to believe you.”

He leans forward, with an impish grin, “I don’t think even you believe that’s realistic.”

“Try me,” Rogue says sternly. “I'm willing to die trying.” She puts her hand out for a shake, the others deathly quiet, waiting for a response. Von smugly seals the deal.

Song sits in the corner with Henry as the others discuss serious business: Demon sacrifices, Earthly laws and assimilation within the underworld.

Song is at her edge, struggling to adapt to such a varied environment. Henry is sitting beside her, being introverted himself, he offers her some comfort.

Mika, now having regained a little strength, kneels down in front of them.

“Hey, little one,” Mika says, gently cupping Song's cheek with a smile. She softly unburrows her head from her arms.

“You were a Seraphim, right? Take this, it might remind you of home.” Song curiously examines the tape player she's been given, unsure what it is or how it works. She gives Mika a warm smile at the gesture, no longer feeling overwhelmed.

“Do you have a name?” Mika asks.

Song looks at her blankly, unable to answer.

“What do people call you?”

“Uhmm… I don’t really have one yet.”

“Hmmmm, that's right”, Henry adds. “I suppose some of us never needed one before. We’ll all have to get one to blend in or change it to something simple humans can understand.”

Mika takes the headphones from Song’s fumbling hands before she breaks them, gently places them on her head, turning the music on. Henry smiles, “Maybe we should call you Song.”

The more dominant ones convene more seriously.

“What’s with her?” Von asks.

“Huh?” Stellis answers, “Oh! That’s our Seraphim.”

“A praiser, huh?”

“Yeah…,” Stellis answers. “Unfortunately, being that close to Father's throne, singing and praising and the sort, she wasn't really exposed to sin like us. She probably doesn’t even know what it is, honestly.”

“I bet,” Von replies. “It looks like she has a touch of childhood innocence to her.” He continues, “I hope that won't become a problem.” Rogue silently nods.

Henry gets up and meets the others quietly. “What's going on? You guys staring are giving us the creeps.”

“All I'm saying,” Von answered dismissively. “From what I've seen, there's a big target painted on the backs of the likes of her.”

Henry is outranged. “What the hell does that mean?”

“That you shouldn’t have brought her!” Von swiftly pulls Henry to the side, hiding what they are saying from view. “Something with such close knowledge of Father? Seriously? The Demons would have a field day torturing her, especially something so pure, so innocent.” Stellis winces at the gravity of the revelation.

“I hear a lot of chat, but I don’t hear a plan,” Rogue interrupts bluntly.

“Now there's enough of us?” Von scratches his chin, “We can probably start our own clan. Not something that can rival the Yakuza, but the smaller groups? Ehhhh… It's possible.”

“So, like what?” Rogue presses.

“Weapons? Relics? Procuring things that us Angels, will have an edge over humans,” Von explains.

“Well, weapons would certainly help us against the Deamons”, Stellis calls in a calm and calculating demeanour as Rogue grins at the plan.

 “But we have to remember,” Von cautions. “Humans live much shorter lives than us; compared to them, we all look between our early to late 20’s. Myself and Mika and pushing closer to 30. Years, that is, not centuries.”

Henry nods in agreement.

“To blend in, we will have to act our age, especially her,” Von guides his eyes to Song, cheerfully nodding to music in the corner. “Unlike heaven, mental maturity is essential for survival down here. It’s a lot crueller then ul give it credit for.”

“Trust me, I believe it,” Henry says, stroking the sore side of his head from the earlier altercation.

“They really live that short of a span?” Stellis argues.

“Well, I've seen Angels in our position last a lot less down here. Even by my own hands…” Von looks down, speaking in a calm but dark tone.

In the other end of the room, Mika sits on the floor, back against the table, tired with too little energy to sit upright.

“We should get some food,” Von speaks up, looking over at his partner. “I know a place. Besides, it would be good to people watch, get you guys used to seeing how humans actually walk,” he says, grinning.

The group travels to a local diner to gain some strength as the night dies and the morning fully breaks.