Re: Church: Janus/Mason
There were some minions of hell that gave Janis the heebies, and always had. Ella was not one of those, but her innocent little songbird act set her teeth on edge, and she was always waiting for the sweetness to blossom into something with teeth--like a carnivorous plant. She was pretty though, of course she was pretty, like the Morningstar himself.
Janis was not pretty. She could make herself beautiful, but anyone like them knew it to be the mask it was. She reached up and touched her hair, the curls of gold she'd made from a pin-up, and looked over the table at Mason. Not for the first time, she wondered what went on in that strange head of his. To know the Devil and not know his mind was a weird thing.
"No? Maybe I like some lines."
She changed for him, showing off, just a little bit, because she was very good at swapping her appearance, even an affinity for it that not all demons possessed. The power she used was like the spinning of wool, quiet and immediate, without even a ripple on the surface of the physical world. Dark of eye and hair now, he fingered the line of his unshaven jaw and leaned again backward in the chair. Certainly, this older version of Jeffrey Allen had plenty of lines, though he seemed to linger in the middle age of a man with youth behind him. He fetched his coffee cup where he'd left it a moment before and raised it to his lips.