#[ alastor's art is just unhinged like 90% of the time ]

[radioiaci]

"Seems like a poorly crafted system, meant to shove beings under the proverbial bus for things outside of their full control, but I digress." Alastor did not harbor enough respect for angels (as a general rule, anyway) to think that they were anything but tools for a so-called higher power that had no rhyme nor reason for doing what it did. (He, she, they, whatever.) He would not say so to Michael's face, but archangels were certainly not above the reception of that judgement from the radio demon.

He had his own thoughts, not all very kind.

Though he did eye the little doodle Michael provided, lifting an eyebrow at the mention of murder and the crude (though somehow adorable) scribble of what he supposed was meant to be him.

But he understood the system that was in place. Or, at least, he understood the how of it. Not so much the why beyond the cruel machinations of some unseen maker that had no real better judgement than anything else. Authority was fake. Crafted to place one person, place, thing, creature, or being at the top of a ladder only to then spill over their desires down onto the unwilling and lesser.

Alastor had no reverence for God. And it likely spoke in every bit of dripping darkness that sloughed off of his entire person.

That Michael found him tolerable at all was nothing short of a miracle in and of itself.

Instead of making any further commentary, however, Alastor took the drawing and scooted it closer to him, reaching for the pen to nab it from Michael's grasp and do a quick scribble of his own, scratchy and angled, before turning it back to the other.

"Yes, but that sounds criminally boring."

   “The thing about your question is the level in which one sin is judged over another. If you are asking if we would consider the act of lying to protect oneself as a sin, the answer will be yes. As one lie will always lead to another, and another after another. When one begins to lie, the next lie becomes even easier. However, the weight that such a lie will carry when judged upon death is slim to nearly none.” Michael shook his head slightly before elaborating a bit. “The reason for which the sin is committed is not weighed within the judgment, that is not a choice I make, it is simply how the Heavenly order functions.” 

   The worst thing about being so high up is that people believe Michael makes more decisions than he actually does. Blame is placed on him for things he has no control over, judgment laid upon him for choices that are rules he cannot change. Michael might be the Right Hand of God and his Sword, but in truth all that does is make him a very shiny pawn for his Father to use. Not even a tool the deity likes all that much, but it’s hard to say if he genuinely loved anyone who wasn’t Lucifer. 

   And look where that landed his brother. 

   A quick and sharp breath was taken, an attempt to shake those thoughts from his mind. They don’t help him here, and they’ll serve no purpose other than just upsetting him. The questions he was down here to find were wrapped up in feelings like that and if he wished to get back to Heaven, he couldn’t think that way. 

   “Your hotel for example, let’s discuss the way I am judging if it works or not.” He sat up a bit straighter and tapped the table, summoning a piece of paper and one of his pen’s with wings on it from his desk upstairs. He picked the pen up and started drawing a graph for the Radio Demon. “As you are aware, sins drag people into Hell. Certain sins, like murder for example, are an instant ride down here. The reason for the murder doesn’t factor in. To take a life is against one of the Ten Commandments, if you take one you are doomed to Hell.” Accident, self-defense, intentional, rage filled, plotted or not. Murder was all the same, and it earned someone a trip downstairs. 

   “Now, to get into Heaven, one must commit virtues. There are seven of them, all of which my brothers and I oversee, much like your Seven Deadly Sins down here. I myself am the Virtue of Humility.” He spins the paper around and shows the graph to Alastor. “To get into Heaven, your virtues must outweigh your sins.” He tapped the horrifying drawing of Alastor. “Understand?”