Parry hysterics were briefly put to rest while Rikive took his face in hand, starting the business of repairing his beautiful, petite nose. The blood on his shirt would need to be cleaned by a professional, but that would hold for a while. In the meantime, his unending vanity tended to by his otherworldly friend, Parry was brought back to the business at hand.

"Nemsemet might think he-slash-she-slash-it has all the city in hand, but the truth is the mummy has nobody to contest its power," Parry gave his nose a twitch, giving Rikive a thank-you wink before turning back to Tony. "If we don't hit out at something of Nemsemet's, he's just going to keep pounding us and forcing us deeper and deeper underground. Either we'll be dead, or we'll be so useless he'll give up chasing us. So if the mummy has a Vampire lord in pocket, we have to keep him from getting any others. It's simple enough. Find out whose Thralls those were. Kick in their door before the vamps can recruit new ones. Fuck up the head vamp and leave him out in the sun. If nothing else, it'll make the other clans less willing to join the mummy or throw everything they have at us if they already signed on. And if the mummy has a challenger for power, people who might resign to join him might sit on the sidelines.

"I totally saw them do something similar on Project Runway once! Except it was fashion judges instead of vampires, and instead of competing massacres it was competing dresses..."