Re: Church: Janus/Mason
Janis didn't know that Ella had a job. Frankly, she didn't know very many other jobs, except for the ones with which she had personal experience: crossroads, like herself, enforcers like the dog in the woods, the dark ones of ash, locust and pain, tormentors of souls, guardians of the gates, nightmare things and, distantly, the fallen and the many.
Janis found it interesting that the King could talk about staying clean like hellfire was an addiction, and she looked into his borrowed dark eyes with her own fiery blue ones, the center of a sulfuric match flame and still more prominent in that physical world than the ripple of his presence. Metaphysical, well. He was Leviathan, Behemoth, Ziz, the dark shadow under all. It was a wonder that skin could hold him, frankly.
She shrugged. "Same reason you're staying clean. It is a church, after all."
Of course, the King of Hell was the morningstar, and known for his beauty. Hard to ignore it. She looked distressed. "I don't look forward to that."