He didn’t know how he felt about actually bringing the figure from grinning to - reality. He wasn’t sure if that was the right term, but it was the closest word he could come to it. You did not approach Michael, God’s right hand angel- well when dad was around- for joking around. Well, most didn’t. Gabriel tried. Others tried. Michael had a real suspicion that Gabriel had a bet going around to see who could actually get him to stop working, back then.
Things weren’t like that anymore. It might be a good thing, he supposed. It was unfortunate, especially now that he could feel a little more. There were angels sent down to watch who helped humanity- who were burning in a pit, and probably too far gone to relieve of their punishments, even if he wished he could. Father had drowned the earth, due to the nephilim, though the good majority of them had been bloodthirsty and killing the others. But why not just send Michael’s army to dispel of those, not locking up those you sent to guide and destroying all but one family of humanity? (who admittedly, though MIchael hadn’t been aware at the time, Michael had never actually liked Noah much, his poor family had to deal with the man who followed father’s word a little too closely and might have been a little too close to an unquestioning angel than ever made Michael comfortable. Then again, he could deal with that obedience and Noah much better than he could Metatron, and that was before he attempted to take everything over. Insufferable little cretin.)
“Decades count as fleeting, brother.” Michael replied, feeling a little more- comfortable as his mind went over familiar feelings, familiar mindsets, rather than the side that had grayed a tinge. “We have been around a long time. Though-” He tilted his head a little, thinking it over. “Hell was named after that pit just outside of that village originally, so I suppose it has always been so. Humanity has just- turned it into a hobby. I will never fully understand them as you seem to do. They’re so-” His eyes narrowed a little as he watched a few pass across the street, searching for the words. “- free.”
Then again, since father left, they were in their own ways, he supposed, free to do what they wished, however the angels didn’t have that free will given to them in the first place. Most struggled with it, especially the higher up you went on the chain. “I have not looked in on the seraphim since my return.” He stated out loud, mostly to himself, hands in his pockets, looking, for once, defeated on some level. “I fear no one has tended to them. They need help in their madness.”
He huffed and ran his fingers through his vessel’s hair as he listened to Michael; more patient with his elder than with any of his other siblings. He choked it up to the memory of his brother. Though it was clouded in the past, some roots still ran deep. It didn’t matter that Alfazon has personally tried to cut those ties and burned most of that tree down; his world had been forever shaped by his life in Heaven.
“For us perhaps, but if you take the time to try and live as one of them...The day to day business. It’s helpful to understanding,” he said gently in return.
Personally he could never see Michael doing such a thing, though the idea was good for a laugh. He held onto that image tight as he might have to use that on one of his gray days. Mike getting the paper, reading the funnies and making quips about the political cartoons...Yeah, that was definitely something to hold onto, fictitious as it was.
“Freedom,” he chuckled finally. It was a strange concept and it was one that he worked to understand as he walked the path. No longer tied to Heaven. No longer strengthened through Satan. Now he was here. It was either that or hang around Purgatory, which was nice if you needed to blow off some steam, but it wasn’t like home. The sky was the closest thing he had to home anymore and...it wasn’t all bad.
“If only they knew what they had.”
“They’re probably just doing cartwheels,” he offered partly in jest. “It’s probably fine.”
