"You... you cheeky cun-niving child!" 

Disregarding the facts that, A.) This sword had been hidden among his tax documents, B.) it could probably cut through most substances known to man- and some yet to be invented by him, and C.) it could make Smokey the Bear shit bricks, Parry had to admit that Abby had outdone him. He gingerly stepped across the basement, avoiding an overturned collection of vintage marbles along the way, and took the blade by the scabbard from her.

"Abby, I want you to know that I appreciate you being forthright about this." He couldn't help himself from giving the Change-child one quick little bear-hug, leaning close to her ear, and whispering, "The set of dolls you lost when you were 9? After you burned down the Ice Cream Parlor because I wouldn't buy you a two-scoop cone? I [i]did[/i] in fact take them. They're in the Miami Greyhound Bus Station, locker 42. Combination 12-19-22."

Course, Parry didn't intend to stick around for the outburst that came next. After the dolls had gone missing, he owed Victor a new trailer. Their insurance didn't cover changeling tantrums, but hey- you gotta discipline children somehow! He disentangled himself from Abby and trotted (ran) up the stairs from the basement, sword in one hand and diaper bag over his shoulder, coming face to face with a lovely Celest [@MancerNecro] in his kitchen, trying to corral everyone into one place. Rusty was vegging out on one of Parry's mood stabilizers (hopefully not the horse tranquilizer, but with werewolf metabolism he was likely to burn off his buzz in no time at all). But Celest! Just the person he needed!

"Darling! You're awake!" Parry said, crossing the kitchen floor to give her a wake-up-hug. "And let me just congratulate you- you might not remember the rendition of [i]Stairway to Heaven[/i] you did last night, but I most certainly will! I can't quite remember who played the guitar, but they did a passing job. What with being three bottles deep into Vodka.

"Now Celest, dearest, my most favorite sorceress that ever sorceressed, I need a small favor from you. I know you're pretty good at tracking energy movements and you've probably felt the... disturbance in the Force. I bought this building because it was built over a ley line. Do me a solid and ride the line as far as your consciousness will go. The Mummy threw a cage over the city but we need to know if we're just locked in downtown or the metro ares, or even out to the wildlife reserves. Also, I need... my clothes!"

Of course Stella [@Utrax] would go into his wardrobe to get her groove back. Of course she would enchant the thing to make it a form-fitting glitter bomb of gorgeous. And of course she would use his favorite suit, waltz down into the kitchen munching on frosted flakes, and strut her stuff like a rich busybody showing off her favorite new toy.

He had one true philosophy in life. [b]One. [/b]

A Celestial's clothes were sacred. They were the Celestial's own. And no one- but no one, should touch Parry's clothes but Parry himself. 

Especially not the frilly items in his underwear drawer. Victoria's Secret was damn expensive to have shipped from San Fran.

"I want you to know, Stella, that if anything happens to that suit, you won't have to worry about the mummy because I will bury you. I bought that from a Bee Gees concert back in the day. And if you raided my underwear drawer too, we're gonna need to take this out back."