[u]Collab Solamelike and Trinais [/u] A gentle knocking sound could be heard close to Parry as Flint gently knocked on the wall of the bathroom. “Hey… you doing ok there?” Flint asked, attempting to look anywhere but the man in front of hims junk. It was not common with Flint for a man to seem to mutter at a mirror in the nude, and what was that smell….Cool Melon? Parry, without a hint of shame or awareness of his current state, rounded on Flint with one hand still on the mirror. “What? What is it now,” he growled. “I fucked up again. Say it. Say it!” “You fucked up again” Flint said softly, walking towards Parry. “But that’s just you, and when you fall off the horse what do we do?” He picked up Parry’s pants from the sink beside him and stood next to the naked man “We come back from the dead and grow wings” He placed the pants next to Parry as he leant on the wall, contemplating lighting a cigarette then deciding against it. “Mind explaining what that was?” He asked, looking harshly into Parry’s eyes. Flint had known him most of his life, but he had never seen anything like that before. Parry didn’t laugh. He did look at the skinny jeans Flint had offered. Part of him wanted to stay in the buff just to mess with the hard-boiled flint. Part of him didn’t care what anybody felt like when around him. He was Parry H. Magnus, the H being short for “Hedonism.” “The last time you saw me like this was in the 30s,” Parry said. He didn’t move. But he did smile just a little. “Speakeasy. When Old Fur tried to get into the bootleg trade and ended up spiking moonshine that got the Governor’s daughter sick.” Parry shook his head. “That’s the only time I’ve ever been on a stage like that. You know it was either the best or worst booze there ever was.” “Oh man!” Flint said, his back now leaning against the wall as he seemed to look up, remembering the scene. “1931, I remember sitting by the bar with bullet holes in my hat and an empty Thompson in my bag… it was a long day” Flint seemed to almost smile, a rare sight in recent times. “What the hell were you doing on that stage again?” Parry grimaced. “Ah. I’d be lying if I said I remembered. I got sober while I was up there and just ran with it. But there was a couple of fairies in the front row that were happy to see me the way I was.” Parry shook his head. “I did wink at you on purpose though. Just because I knew you’d react the way you did. We had some fun in the 20s and you never did stop blushing. Called me a ‘Sodomite’ the first time and then you got used to it after I never stopped.” “But yeah… wings.” Parry shrugged. “That’s not normal even in our circles. I get it. What do you want to know?” “Where you happened to acquire some? I could always do with a little more manoeuvrability” Flint joked, remembering the times that Parry mentioned. He always did have his overly flamboyant ways of making him uncomfortable, but in all honesty he was one of the only people he had memories with, the rest either dying a long time ago or being only a few decades old to not have been born yet. “I borrowed them. From an old co-worker. Along with the sword.” PArry looked into the mirror at the charms he’d traced with his finger. A mind ward hastily drawn, redrawn, and drawn over again. Then a very vulgar communique meant to send a not-so-subtle ‘Fuck you’ across space. “Mine are still hung up and waiting for me… elsewhere.” “I feel like you haven’t been telling me the whole story ‘Parry the Mage’ ”Flint’s dreamy daze was now cut as he began to think back to the present. “That sort of power isn’t possible after the wounds you had succumbed, I’ve known you. What?! Nearly one hundred years now, and suddenly you can fly and come back from the dead!? I want answers Parry, in plain English!” Flint looked annoyed, not leaning on the wall but instead towering slightly over Parry. Parry shrank back as Flint got in closer. He started to reach for his pants, snagged his boxers, and slid those on hoping it’d get Flint to back off if he gave a little ground. Nope. Flint just stood there. Waiting. Angry. “It’s… it’s complicated,” Parry whimpered. “I mean… I’ve been around for a while Flint. A whole hell of a long time. You want it in English though? Fine.” Parry pointed a finger at his own chest. “Celestial. Layman’s terms, angel, but we don’t subscribe to that word. Has too many connotations down here. And I’m… not Fallen, just kind of AWOL at the moment. Before I died. I mean… it happened fast and I was on The Shore with Richard Pryor, the White Rabbit and Michael Jackson. There was some awesome weed and my old partner showed up and sent me back while he holds my spot on The Shore. I’m expected back by The Powers That Be after I can get out of the City.” Flint wasn’t very well informed on a lot of things. He looked to the Wizards that looked and researched in books and found it all incredibly boring. Flint learnt magic by doing and acting, this could possibly be the reason his magic is limited in a way. It also could be why it drains him so much. Despite him not knowing much about celestials he knew their power, knew that they were not like mortals such as himself. “I knew there was something about you that made you act like... you do. Why didn’t you tell me?” Flint asked, his stance now more relaxed as he leant back against the wall. This time he did decide to reach into his pocket and grab a flask. Gulping down some of the dark liquid. “Because de Lacy had me,” Parry said. As if that explained everything, all in one sentence. A vampire having a hold over a being of Cosmic power. “How do you think he walked into that Disco in 74 and wasted Johnny the Rocket- that old Warlock. He got me when I came to Camden, offered me cover in exchange for my blood. He’s been milking me like a cow for over a century! “And besides, I hate my old job. I can’t stand it! I’m supposed to be a Shepherd. I watch over the kids, keep them safe from demons. I did my job fine. But I couldn’t watch everything that happened to them after I kept the demons away. 10,000 years of letting children get sold into slavery grates on you, Flint. After a while you start to feel a little… helpless.” Parry brushed at his hair, twirling it back and forth around his forefinger. He searched for a hair loop to put it in a ponytail, then gave up. “I wanted out. After the Children’s Crusade I wanted out bad. So I came down here. Hung up my wings and kept my sword.” Just mentioning the sword made him cringe, that dark, tainted feeling settling into Parry’s stomach, creeping up his spine. He had the urge to jump in the shower again and try to wash it off, but fought against it for the moment. “Then I just… coasted. I had fun. I lived a little. Came here. Started up the Daycare. And the rest is… it just happened, okay? Is that what you want to know?” Flint looked at the floor, taking another swig of the bottle, he thought about what 125 years had done to him...and couldn’t imagine what 10,000 years could do to a man. He sighed his signature sigh, re-adjusting the hat on his head as he placed his flask away. “Just keep doing what you’re doing, keep your head up and think about how you can help us solve this mess” He turned to leave “Good talk” He muttered Parry gave Flint a sideways glance, letting him get to the door before saying “Just… gimme some time. I feel… I’m not, not clean, okay?” Flint left for his room, passing Rikive on the way.