"Yeah, Beth, I think you and Rikive have a point. Tony, you know I'd agree with you on most things but I think Flint could be more of an asset in this situation."

[i]And by asset, I mean he's a damn good piece of bait for all those lycans if we need to distract them. Maybe.[/i]

Though that train of thought did leave Parry a little disturbed the more he followed it. Flint was one of the better magicians in the city, had a way with modern weapons a lot of the people in the front room lacked, and to top it all off, he was permanently stuck in the 1930s Noir look- which, in Parry's opinion, was one of the best times to dress as a man in the last 150 years. 

[i]I take my previous thought back. I want Flint alive, if only to find out where he's getting all those clothes.[/i]

"So Tony, I'm ready to lock up and leave whenever you-"

[b]Which was, of course, when the light bulbs in the foyer, living room, kitchen, bathroom - really every light bulb in the building - shifted from natural white to a tinted Blue.[/b] A neat trick, but they weren't Hue bulbs (except the ones in Parry's bedroom, and that was just so he could observe his outfits before going clubbing). Nope.

Someone outside had set off the first Wards. Warning lights, mostly, that someone had stepped on Parry's front lawn with intent to kill.

Defcon 1.

All hands on deck.

"Oh, for FUCK'S SAKE!" Parry shrieked as the light shift finished. Drawing his fairy sword again in one smooth motion and making for the door, he nodded for Rikive to take up position behind him. "I am not gonna die in here with Dirty Harry, Shaft the Tiger, and the Ghost of Christmas Past! Tony, go get the fucking cars."

Parry didn't wait to see if the Norse demi-goddess was behind him or not before opening the door. And there he stood, six feet tall, rail thin, dressed in Armani, a diaper bag over his shoulder and a silver sword raised in one arm, looking at-

- a true fairy. Karram. Always impeccably dressed. Fae were the only creatures that gave PArry a run for his money in the fashion and looks departments. Karram's designer labels could always one-up him on certain occasions and the Celestial resented him for it. But what was he doing with the drab, trenchcoat wearing, black-on-black-on-black-on-black girl.

"Oh, Karram. Join the gods-damned party. Is this your girlfriend? Honey, no, all that leather! So not you! How many cows died for that horrid outfit. Lets get you to the West Side mall for some-"

[i]Wards.

Intent to kill.

Demon mummy.

Can change her wardrobe later.

Must focus![/i]

"Right," Parry said, snapping his train of thought off. "Which one of you came here to murder me?"

To be fair, the Wards only detected intent to harm on the premises. They didn't necessarily imply that Parry was the target. But being it was his property, and Parry thought of himself as the center of all life, happiness, fashion and trends in this horrid city, it wasn't too far an assumption for him to make.