Mason Johanson Is a Falling Star (mutinous) wrote in repose,
Re: Church: Janus/Mason
Mason was covetous of the things he wanted to keep, and his relaxation around Ella meant he either wasn't worried or his affection had faded. Or maybe he just had faith that she could do her job without him watching her every move.
He crossed to Janis when summoned, pulling out the other chair and sitting down at last. He watched the flame above her fingers flicker to life and lit his cigarette. "I'm trying to stay clear of that sort of thing for the time being," he said, drawing in a short pull. "Stay clean." He tapped the cigarette with his thumb, blowing slow smoke down into the table. "Wouldn't want to draw too much attention."
He had the artful control over himself of long, long existence, but he still didn't see the point in flagrant displays of power that could bring the crusaders thundering to his door. He wanted to settle here a little while. He could fend them off, sure, but why blow his cover when he'd only just arrived? The faintest whiff of brimstone off something as big as him would bring them to the door like bloodhounds.
"You hesitated," he said, noticing, eyes flicking down her arm, then up to her fingers again. "Why?"
He tipped the chair back a little. The lit end of the cigarette reflected fetchingly in dark eyes, not that she was the type of girl to fall for that old trick. 'Your kind of problem,' broke the act and made him smile, though. "I think most of Creation has the same kind of problems, now and again." He flicked his ashes onto the edge of a small dish sitting in the center of the table, supporting a slightly wilted daisy in a flowerpot. "Dreaming that the grass is greener elsewhere. Feeling old." He looked at her. "Eventually, you'll feel it. Old. Older than what is, but still too young to know where things may go."