Sinners Are Winners [bxb]

Prologue

Rain pattered roughly against the street, congregating in puddles. Dark clouds loomed over the town, blocking out the evening sun. Under the protection of a cheap umbrella, a gruff man with an unshaven beard laughed. He wrapped an arm around a nicely dressed woman. He was obviously trying to impress her tonight, maneuvering through her poor conversational skills.

"Tough weather we've been having, right?" He pulled out the desperate card, willing the woman to continue.

She held a hand out and let the icy pellets collect in her hands, "An angel must be crying." She responded, making the man frown.

He didn't really like the religious type-- being an atheist and all. He decided not to let such trivial things get him down. He smiled, "My mother always said that thunder was caused by angels bowling."

"How silly," the woman chuckled, "Then they'd have to be crying and bowling at the same time."

The man was pleased, he had finally piqued her interest, "Perhaps the angels are... really bad at bowling." He suggested.

The woman laughed, drowning out the sounds of the rain with her laughter.

He wasn't wrong. Angels were often too focused on more important matters, so they didn't bowl at all. Angels didn't cry, either. Crying was for sadness, stress, and anger. Angels knew nothing of such emotions.

If the angels were neither crying nor bowling. Then... what were they up to? Well, it depends on the angel. Most of them were managing souls, aligning fates, guarding humanity against the treacherous clutch of Lucifer's wrath, or other common angel duties. One of them was currently screaming.

Most likely because he was falling 13.14 billion miles.

"Hey! It's a shooting star!" The woman exclaimed, pausing her movements. She pointed up at the sky, where a small dot was streaking the sky.

The man whistled, "Wow, you can't even make out the stars-- it's too dark. How can we see that?"

"God must think it's about time we had a wish." The woman sighed dreamily. She thought about it before wishing to eventually find true love.

The man dryly wished that he'd be able to get in the woman's pants later that night. Although, he knew his chances were slim. Wishing would get him nowhere closer.

The woman sighed and leaned her head against the man's shoulder. They both watched as the shooting star grew bigger.

"Uhh..." the man took a step back, grabbing the woman's arm to take her with him, "I think that meteor is going to hit."

"Oh, God! Maybe it's a bomb?!" His date exclaimed, stumbling back with him. Fear etched into both their faces as they tried to look for shelter.

The man regretted the romantic walk he had planned. First, it rained. Then, there was a meteor or bomb hurling at them as ground-breaking speeds. He knew he should have just made a dinner reservation.

There wasn't enough time for them to run. The falling object fell about 300 feet from them, colliding harshly with the wet soil. The man and woman clung to each other, dropping the umbrella and waiting for the impact to hit.

After a few moments, they noticed that nothing had happened. The man carefully peaked out of the embrace, looking toward the impact site. There was a crater, but no space-rocks or Russian nukes. He breathed out a sigh of relief and slowly let the woman go. His curiosity getting the best of him, he slowly began to make his way over to the hole.

"W-What are you doing?!" The woman whisper-yelled, like she was scared that making too much noise would disrupt whatever imbalance was in the world.

"Getting a closer look." He explained in the same whisper-yell. The man loomed over the crater, peering inside of it. He was utterly shocked to see a man hunched at the bottom of the hole. In the darkness of the rain, it was hard to make out. But, it was definitely a person. The man's eyebrow raised, "Holy shit. Are you okay?!" He yelled down, worried that the man had been struck by the falling item.

The angel, (well, fallen angel) jumped in surprise. Glowing eyes of liquid gold turned to the stranger at the top of his crater. The human's soul was a stormy grey, blending in with the stormy sky surrounding him.

The fallen angel did not know how to answer the human's question. Was he okay? His lips naturally pursed as he considered an answer, "Uhh... physically I am quite fine. Emotionally, I would say I am a little hurt."

The woman, realizing that there was some sort of conversation going on, stumbled her way to the edge of the crater. She followed the man's gaze to the feminine man in the crater. She immediately gasped, "Oh my God! Who are you?!"

The angel blinked, not understanding the hint of fear in her voice, "I'm Ishmael."