#m. janus.

[armsdealing]

oh, jeez. 'oh, fuck.' this is so embarrassing. post-sneeze, hand pressed to her mouth, summer watches as janus' shirtsleeve catches on fire. ( alternatively titled: it's winter, she's got a cold, and she'd appreciate it if they could both just move on and forget this ever happened. )

Fact #1: this jacket is Dior. 

Fact #2: that means nothing to him. 

Janus frowns at the newborn flame and pats it a couple times. It almost seems as though he’s soothing a crying child. After a second only a smoky ghost is left – as well as a melted hole on his sleeve. “Wow, nylon sucks for fire,” his eyebrows raise. His eyes meet Summer’s. “Have you taken anything for your cold, love?”

[armsdealing]

@neotropical / didn’t ask for this but i’m giving it to you anyway! i love you! i love these assholes!

“So glad you could join me, Mr. Delaurier,” was Janus’ greeting, all too formal, almost aloof in its delivery. He’d stood from the table to shake Asmodeus’ hand firmly, adding, “here I thought you’d be too busy for me,” with a glib smirk. “May we sit? I haven’t ordered yet, save for this bottle of wine.”

[armsdealing]

‘ hey, come on. you look great, okay? you look great! ’ (from scarlet) @amelorates / random meme. / janus.

“really? thought i’d overdone it.” glints of amusement in his eyes as he bows his head. the gold-embroidered lapels of his coat shimmer with her light, and they would probably be the center of attention in this restaurant if it weren’t practically empty, or if it weren’t painful to look in their general direction. still, she’s literally glowing, and he has certainly (and knowingly) overdone it; they should really be more subtle, but where’s the fun in that?

he’d recognized her before he’d even seen her, almost as if it he could sense the warmth trapped within her, and that’s because, in a way, he can: fire is just a handy, earthly name to refer to his true domain: heat. energy. the very thing that makes her. he affectionately strokes her arm. “and i can say the same for you. it’s good to see you. i had almost believed for a moment that --” his gloved hand moves in a flourish, the perfect mix between euphemistic and graphic. “it was legitimately worrisome. but, here you are! how are you! i don’t take it that you drink, or do you?”

[armsdealing]

@mataab / 💬

“You were always the quiet one.”

[armsdealing]

@vaguewhispcrs / spontaneous gifts best gifts.

Picture: a beautiful flower shop, squeezed right in between two ancient buildings in Rome, in a tiny little street barely accessible to scooters and pedestrians. Picture: Janus, strolling his way in and crossing the room to wrap the owner into an effusive hug. “Addy, look at you. Look at this. This shop may my favorite of all things you’ve done.” He made sure to step inside when no other costumer was around, ever so careful not to get a person caught up in the unintentional crossfire of two primordial beings in the same room. “I got you this, I thought you might like it.” He finally raised the item in question, a book with an unassuming, plain black leather cover. “It’s a book of poems.” Written in Demotic, collated by yours truly. “I didn’t want to come empty-handed. You know me. How’s business going?”

[armsdealing]

@thequeenofbeasts / cont. 

He smiles. Of course he does, a soft thing that seems fonder than anything else.  

“I never called you a coward, Principessa,” Janus muses, taking a second from her eyes to fix the gold cufflinks of his suit, a lavish human-made piece he thought of affectionately. He found the common black tie-black suit ensemble underwhelming, and unfitting of such a meeting. Italy was made for the grandiose and the august, all rich textures and ancient history, all warm tones and warmer dispositions -- at least in the south. Roman personalities were another thing entirely where warmth was concerned, it seemed, though the opulence was there. “In fact, cowardice is the last thing I’d think about when describing you.” 

Werewolves, generally, had that in common, though vampires weren’t far behind and were probably even worse. Once they built their hierarchies, all the more so. They became very confident, borderline arrogant, in their power. Hubris. Janus saw no problem with this, really. It was their world; they’d never been proven wrong. “And since you mention your organization, you’ll be pleased to know the reasons for my visitation can be finally made clear to you. Unless you have more pressing matters to tend to, of course.”