The Capital Mall Who: Janus and Atticus What:This. Where: A high-end mall in the Capital When: The Sunday after their last chat. Warnings/Rating: TBA.
Janus told Atticus to meet him in the food court, where he was sitting at an end table with white sneakers pushed out in front of him and a Cinnabon sitting in its open box on the table. This mall was pretty high-end, enough to have an Armani Exchange, but not so high end that they could ignore the standard necessities of the decade's mall standards: thin carpet, bright lights, department stores, coffee and sweets.
Janus liked all those things, particularly in his current mood, which was a smiling one. When Atticus arrived he would be pleased to see that Janus' appearance matched reality today, male skin scented with a faintly spicy soap far stronger than the elusive hints of demonic sulfur, a pepper-and-salt appearance that confirmed something closer to his real age, and the kind of appearance that was both costly and slovenly. He was dressed, in short, to shop for male attire, and expensive male attire. The sneakers were so white that it was obvious they were not the kind to be worn over and over, and the shapeless hat was probably something found on a glass shelf rather than a cardboard bin.
Janus' phone was in his hand. His last few text messages had informed Atticus not only of his expected attendance and location, but also that he should bring his credit card. The demon had ridden on a jet that Atticus had acquired in very short order, and Janus was looking forward to forcing the uncooperative academic into overpriced shirts and pants that weren't turning white at the seams. The new year had brought a lot a number of revelations to the demon, and he was looking forward to it more than most.