There are legends, that when an angel falls, their wings are ripped from their shoulder blades, torn from their body as consequence. But that is not true. They leave the wings. But the catch, is that their wings don't work. They are just useless extensions, a constant memory of what they used to be. It was figured that it was a much more painful torture then taking them away. So the fallen where there wings as a shameful reminder. The best part of the fallen is that they have come together. Houses for fallen are all around the world. Where no Fallen is judged for their actions or how they ended up on earth in an endless purgatory of immortal life. But the problem with so many fallen all mushed together, is that the chatter begins, and they talk of rebellion. And how great it would be, for the Fallen to Rise. __________________________________________________________________________________________ Keiko sat in the corner of another Fallen House. She didn't like to stay in one place for too long. It bored her. Though she has forever to move wherever she wants. That the curse of being Fallen. Both Immortal and broken wings. Her pet, a lesser demon that was completely harmless, she had named him Edgar. He was a furry little creature that had dark purple wings and horns. It had four legs with sharp black talons on its feet. His eye glowed an ominous red and it smiled with sharp white teeth. She loved him, and his favorite place was in her arms. She wore a white dress and her different colored eyes off-put some people. She scratched behind Edgar's ears, lightly sipping a glass of orange juice.