Virtuous Sins

Virtuous Sins

SCENE I

The stage is dark apart from one spotlight that appears centre stage; a man in a smart looking suit appears. He looks about his late twenties, slim build and eyes the shade of pale yellow. He steps into the light, hands in his pockets. The suit he wears is a blueish grey in colour, black hair slicked back. This man is known as the fallen angel, Castiello, he is the right hand and almost understudy to the Creator. Brother of Chronos, the Master of Time. Castiello is one of the five Watchers; he is uninvolved in the fates of Humans and is a neutral party between the Sins and Virtues.

Castiello:                    We are made imperfect.

That, is the first and only rule of creation. Everything, everyone, is made imperfect. It’s the default setting we come in. The notion of perfection however, is sorely lost on the world today as we know it. The need to strive, to reach for this ultimate solace of need and fulfilment that only the perfect can reach. When we are born, when we take our first breaths into the fresh, crisp air of this world we are…imperfect. It is only because we are blessed with the ability of knowledge, the ability to learn and make mistakes and this; this is what blesses us with our perfections. This is what the great Creator blesses us with. So. I hope you’re grateful.

He kicks the floor, scuffing his shoe along the flooring of the stage, slowly drawing lines wit his foot.

These perfections, though warranted by us are found unwanted. Unwanted by those that you look up to, that you pray to, that you hang around your home like the cute little cherubs you believe they are.

Have you guessed yet?

Angels.

You see, when a human life is born, they are nothing. Holding only mindlessness and the numb motions of existence…they are nothing. They are the perfect mould. And that is what the Angels so desire. It is what they need and what they strive so hard to snuff out.

The lights flicker off momentarily, when they turn back on Castiello is gone and instead there is a figure, eyes blood red, long white hair hangs limply as though never washed and a white suit that is heavily stained in black, almost a tar like substance. They stand motionless for a moment before heavy breathing echoes through the theatre, the breathing quickens and the figures fingers flex.

Angel:                         Putidula. Putidula. Putidula vile creatures. Defecerunt fetus abortive. Imperfectionem. Mori.Mori.Mori.Mori.Mori.Mori.

The muttering gets louder and as it does the lights flicker once again and dark wings are projected against the back, seeming to spread from the body on stage. The muttering ceases and suddenly the lights flicker once to a bright light and a piercing scream escapes the angel, who reaches out.

Blackout.

A single spot appears once again, with Castiello back within it.

#Castiello:                    It all started a long time ago, as most stories do, with the Creator, Lord to us all and my mentor. Oh and my Brother, Chronos, Guardian of Time. With us, from the ashes of humanity begun the Sins and Virtues and so, shall it end with them

You see, there was a feud, a feud that was born and bred, ingrained into their very beings. A deep hate for one another, for whenever one lives so the other can, but their only downfall will be each other.

“Quod si ad mortem remugit”

Death only belongs to that which echoes from you.

SCENE II

The stage opens to a bar; its tatty and decrepit though has an odd charm. The words ‘The Shattered Opal is imprinted above the bar in jagged letters. There are four bar stools lined up against the bar, one is upside down on the bar itself. There are four tables, all with chairs on top of them. The place looks unopened and deserted. It is early evening, about six, there is slight light coming through the window to the stage right, however, the place itself is gloomy.

A man walks in; he is wearing a form-fitting black suit jacket, faded blue jeans and a skin tight blue t-shirt. He has messy black hair and looks around the age of 24. There are keys dangling from his fingers. This is Luxuria. He is Lust. He steps on stage left, looks around the room, pausing for a moment. When he hears no noise he sighs, swings his keys around his finger before throwing them on to the bar, his jacket following. He stands behind the bar, bottom lip jutting out as he drums against the counter, he calls out. No one replies and so he turns and grabs a bottle with one hand while his other hand grabs a glass.

Another enters upstage left from the backroom. He has neatly cut and styled blonde hair and is currently wearing a suit and tie. He looks older than Luxuria, around 40 years, his tie is loose where he’s pulled it from stress, he notices Luxuria and stands for a moment silently. He has papers in his hands which crinkle as he crosses his arms. Vanto, also known as Pride, tilts his head and raises his eyebrows as he watches the other Sin. He knows where exactly he’s been and what he’s done and he is not impressed.

Vanto:                        What have we told you about getting your hands dirty like that outside this place?

Luxuria doesn’t flinch, instead without turning to face Vanto, raises his glance in his direction before taking a sip.

Luxuria:                     What? Can’t I have a little fun now?

Vanto:                        You know what exactly I mean. We run a tight operation here; you’ve been doing this for long enough that you should know better by now.

Vanto walks toward the bar, dropping his papers on the counter and leaning both hands on the edge. He doesn’t take his eyes off Luxuria.

Luxuria:                     He had to go.

Vanto:                        Then you should have brought him here, it would have been clean and contained.

Luxuria:                     I was just doing my job.

Vanto:                        You forget that there are six off us in this and things are a little different to how we use to do things years ago. You can’t just go around killing people that flash up on your radar off balance. There are procedures for this shit now.

Luxuria:                     Okay okay, I get it alright. No killing outside the bar. Are we done now or did you call me here just to lecture me?

Vanto:                        Rolling his eyes and sighing Don’t be an idiot.

Luxuria:                     We all know that’s your job. He pours himself another drink

Vanto:                        Are you quite done?

Luxuria:                     Alright. Don’t get your panties in a twist.

Vanto:                        Moron.

Silence falls over the two as Vanto moves over to steal the bottle out of Luxuria’s grasp and pours himself a drink. To the stage left, a young girl enters – appearing the age of six - skipping. She has bright blonde hair, held back by a black ribbon on top of her head. She is wearing a bright red dress, white cotton tights and smart black pumps. She holds her hands behind her back and rocks on her back feet, smiling. This, is Invidia, she is the personification of Envy.

Invidia:                       Uh oooh. Sounds like someone is in trouble! she sings                     

Luxuria:                     Isn’t it past your bed time kiddo?

Invidia:                       Oh Lulu, that joke never gets old.

Luxuria:                     What? Someone a little green that we grown-ups get to stay up past six?

Invidia:                       Fuck off. Invidia frowns, crossing her arms in an exaggerated huff. Although she is over 2000 years old she still very much has the mannerisms of a child.

Luxuria:                     Language young lady or I’ll have to send you up to bed with no dinner.

Invidia:                       Listen you worthless piece of-

Vanto:                                    Children, Children please. Can we all just get on?

Luxuria:                     What? Bored of us already?

Invidia:                       Bored? Oh Lulu you should have asked that to the whore you dragged to bed last night…           

Luxuria:                     Why you little-

Ira:                              Shut. Up. Both of you.

Ira and Socordia enter from stage left. Ira, Wrath, is one of the last people you want to anger. She is dressed in a full length ball gown which is tight along her body. There is a long slit up her left thigh. She is decked out completely in jewellery and her long red hair is curled all down the left. She grasps a small golden clutch bag in her hand tightly. Her smile thins in agitation. The man with her is Sloth, he slinks past the group, across the stage and pulls a chair down from one of the far tables, slouching down into it and nodding a greeting to the others in the room. For the most part, Socordia, known as the quiet one, is ignored. Socordia is a portly fellow, with a large beard and long shaggy hair.

Luxuria:                     Wow, Ira, darling! Someone’s dressed to impress this evening!

Ira:                              I’m off to a dinner party after our oh-so-great-leader has told us why we are gathered here. She looks pointedly at Vanto, who motions to the others

Invidia:                       You look beautiful Irara!

Ira:                              Thanks baby girl, but can we get this over with? I don’t want to be late and I have a meeting with a particular fellow who is tipping my balance in a very inappropriate way.

Luxuria:                     Oh honey, I could help you with that. Luxuria leans forward and runs his hand over the counter down Ira’s back, leering at her as he does so

Ira:                              Keep your damn hands to yourself, touch me again and I’ll break your fucking arm off.

Luxuria:                     Ooh! He raises his hand to his chest and pretends to look offended

Ira:                              You have no idea.

Vanto:                        Vanto speaks loudly as Luxuria opens his mouth to reply Thank you! Thank you very much! Now just let me get to the point alright? Now, most of you won’t be awa- he pauses, eyes narrowed as he stares around the group.

Wait. Where’s Othmer?

Silence befalls the group, Luxuria pauses in pouring himself another drink and looks around, Invidia bits her lip nervously and looks at anything but Vanto, Ira and Socordia both look disinterested, as though Vanto should already know the answer.

Vanto:                                    Do not tell-

Ira:                              He’s with his…Virtue. Ira spits out the word as though disgusted with herself for saying it in the first place.

Vanto eyes widen, before coming suddenly extremely angry, he grips his glass tightly, the glass cracking in his hand.

Vanto:                        And no one thought to stop him?

Luxuria:                     What are we, his babysitters?

Socordia:                    It’s his right.

There is silence in the room and Vanto drops the glass on to the floor, standing on the glass and allowing it to crunch under his feet.

Vanto:                        His right? I am the Leader of this team. I am the alpha, the omega and the one whose job it is to keep you all breathing and this world turning. I do my job well, and I will not allow one fucking Sin to screw it up just because he can’t keep his damn orders. It’s against nature. We weren’t created to fuck our opposites; we were created to counter them.

A loud clap echoes through the building and enters Castiello, from the stairs, upstage right. His hand traces down the banister as he walks. All the Sins save Vanto look surprised at Castiello’s appearance, knowing before hand that the Watcher would be attending.  

Castiello:                    Now now now, that’s no way to speak about your fellow Sins and Virtues now is it my dear Pride?

Vanto:                        Vanto. If you please.

Castiello:                    Raising an eyebrow Do you not wish to be called your Sin?

Vanto:                        I wish to be called my name.

Castiello:                    Shrugging with a smirk upon his face Touché.

Ira:                              suspiciously eyeing Vanto out of the corner of her eye Castiello. We had no idea you were due to be here…

Castiello:                    Ah, the magic of surprises my dear!

Ira raises her own eyebrows and leans on the counter, motioning for Castiello to carry on. Socordia sits ever so slightly up in his seat, Invidia jumps up on the counter and sits and Luxuria pours another drink for both himself and Vanto, offering the bottle to Castiello who declines.

Castiello:                    Well, since you’re all sitting so comfortably, I’ve come to discuss the reincarnation of Gluttony. You all knew this time was approaching fast, though a date was not given-

Luxuria:                     …Yeah thanks for that Mr.-Time-Itself...

Castiello:                    giving Luxuria a disapproving look -a date was not given and so therefore predicting when this event would happen has been next to, if anything, impossible. However, it is important to tell you that…things are going to be a little more complicated than usual.

Vanto:                        Meaning…?

Castiello:                    You know I’m a neutral.

Luxuria:                     with a sarcastic tone But you’ve already come so far in telling us this, why stop now?

Castiello:                    This isn’t about who has what gossip on who. This is about preparation.

Vanto:                        And what exactly gives you the impression we aren’t prepared? This isn’t our first rodeo you know.

Castiello:                    I am fully aware of that.

Vanto:                        Right then, then you know it certainly isn’t your place to come down here and tell my team how to work. Especially for something as menial as a reincarnation.

Castiello:                    What if I told you it was more than that?

Vanto:                        Then I would say you’re about to break your status as a neutral.

Castiello laughs darkly, though his face holds no humour. He stares at Vanto for a moment before turning his back and retracing his steps back up the stairs.

Castiello:                    Watch yourself Sins, there’s a lot more going on in this than you realise. There’s a loud clap and Castiello is gone. There is silence for a moment.

Luxuria:                     Well. I would say that falls under my creepy radar, but then that would be like admitting I give a crap. Which I don’t.

Ira:                              sighing Whatever. I have a job to do. Exits Stage Left

Vanto:                        We should probably get on and sort this place out. We’ve all got jobs today. No one moves and Vanto looks around once more In case you didn’t realise, that was a hint for all of you to get yourselves in to gear and move. We’ll discuss this when Othmer finally gets his ass back.

Exit everyone except Vanto, leaves and Vanto begins taking down chairs. He throws a rag over his shoulder and busies himself with wiping tables.

Vanto:                        Without looking up I thought you had left.

Castiello:                    Re enters from where he left You know me better than that Pride.

Vanto:                        Vanto.

Castiello:                    I need to talk to you.

Vanto:                        I thought you couldn’t?

Castiello:                    Shut up and listen. Prepare your team, and no, Vanto, who had opened his mouth to interrupt, looks away listen to me. There’s talk, rumours, hearsay floating around the mill you know how this works. Something’s going down, something big. I’m not able to decipher anything yet, but Lucifer is missing. Which is a pretty big deal.

Vanto:                        Surprised Lucifer is missing?

Castiello:                    Yes.

Vanto:                        Shit.

Castiello:                    Creator believes it could be the work of Angels, we don’t know yet. They weren’t exactly happy with Lucifer. Either way, just…watch yourself.

Castiello exits. Vanto looks up, ready to speak to Castiello and only then realises he has left.

Vanto:                         Well this is certainly going to complicate things.

SCENE III

Lights flicker, figures of angels appear in the flickers, whispers.

SCENE IV

Scene opens on Othmer and Castitas, otherwise know as Greed and Charity. The room is a cheap hotel room, furniture is minimal, and there is a lamp on the bedside which is on and spreading light to the couple in the bed. Both are naked, hair mussed. Castitas, a very petite girl with pitch black hair is sat between Othmer’s legs, leaning back into him. Othmer himself has dark tanned skin, very muscular and has a light prickle of styled facial hair. His head is leaning on her shoulder, one hand splayed on her stomach over the covers, other playing with her hair. She fingers the bedding.

Castitas:                     Looking at the ceiling This can’t go on.

Othmer:                      I hope you realise they already know.

Castitas:                     Closing her eyes What if the Creator finds out?

Othmer:                      Chuckling I’m sure if anyone knows, it’s the Creator.

Castitas:                     Othmer. Be serious.

Othmer:                      Castitas. I am.

                                    pause

What? Look you’re asking a lot of me. I’m not giving you up.

Castitas:                     Smiling fondly and reaching over to grip his hand You’re impossible.

Othmer:                      I’m Greed incarnate.

Castitas:                     She laughs, silence passes between them before she hesitantly speaks There’s been talk…

Othmer:                      Hmmm?

Castitas:                     At base. We know about your new Sin.

Othmer:                      Disinterested Hmmm.

Castitas:                     So…?

Othmer:                      What?

Castitas:                     You haven’t mentioned it to me…

Othmer:                      What do you want me to say?

Castitas:                     Sighing I can’t help you if you don’t trust me.

Othmer:                      You know if they catch us together they’ll kill us? I think that’s trust enough.

The bedside lamp flickers a couple of times, Castitas frowns and glances at the light, flicking it a twice. At the top, Stage right, an angel appears silently. No attention is brought to the angel. It stares at the couple.

Castitas:                     You’re not the only one in the equation here.

Othmer:                      We’re not getting in to this debate again are we?

Castitas:                     No-

Othmer:                      You know I had a meeting right? That I’ve blown off, to be with you. Castiello was supposed to be there. Or so Vanto told me.

Castitas:                     Sitting up straight and gripping the covers tightly to her chest, turning to face Othmer You…what? Why…why would Castiello be there?

Othmer:                      Hell if I know. Could be a briefing on the new kid I would assume. I dunno, Vanto doesn’t tell me everything despite popular belief.

Castitas:                     Othmer you…you can’t just-

Othmer:                      I can, and you know why? Because I’m Greed and I know what I want…I want you.

Castitas:                     And what about Castiello? Do you know that it’s not important?

Othmer:                      Nope. And right now I could care less.

Othmer pulls her back and nibbles on her neck, pulling her back down on to the bed.

Castitas:                     Othmer…

Othmer:                      Shut up and don’t ruin this.

Castitas:                     You’ve been hanging out too much with Luxuria.

The lamp next to them flickers off and on again a couple of times once more, neither notice too wrapped up in each other. The Angel is now gone.

Othmer:                      Chuckling Probably.

The scene closes with them getting lost in each other on the bed, lights fade out.

SCENE V

A spot light appears Stage Left, Castiello stood directly in it. He looks stressed, as though he is arguing with someone.

Castiello:                    A balance has to be kept. A special order between the work of Sins and Virtues, for every Sin there must also be a Virtue.

He pauses, looking at the ground as though he is listening for an answer to his statement.

Castiello:                    Someone is ruining that balance. Someone is tipping it and now, with this new Sin…it will take weeks to prepare. For thousands of years, since way before time really began, this has been controlled. Lucifer, Uriel, Evaris, Xephan and I, we’ve always be aware. Even Chronos when he feels like it.

Castiello pauses once more, he looks startled for a moment.

                                    Michael? No…

As spotlight fades on Left, it lights on Right. There is an Angel, this one looks different, more regal. It laugh’s, a haunting laugh. The light closes.