Throughout the story, Alastor's face and body language would remain entirely neutral. A murderer, a psychopath and a monster he might be, and he'd not argue with that assertion, but perhaps predictably, he was an excellent listener. Not a hint of any privately held thoughts appeared on his face, not a glimmer of judgement nor of agreement, hooded hellfire stare just watching Raphael as the angel recounted the last failed attempt at this project.

Very, very interesting.

The story did close on an ominous note too, didn't it? A deal was a deal, and he wasn't about to relinquish his grip on it now, sad story or not.

"... Sounds like you picked a real genius, feathers." Ah, so he wasn't going to needle the angel?

"Clean route out, and he threw it all in the garbage for a cheap laugh? Now I don't think the issue is you, or your brothers.

I can blame you for being a bunch of suckers! Can't blame you for picking out an idiot though. Finding anything better than a dim bulb down there is like looking for a straw in a needle stack, not like you had much to work with, right?"