Parael Magnus hovered in his bathroom before the mirror frowning at his own reflection. His hair was an absolute mess as the bangs wouldn't stay put where he wanted them. The lime green silk bathrobe he wore was likewise disheveled, and his fingers were looking woefully out of shape. He'd skipped his weekly mani-pedi to focus on warding his apartment and the place of business. He didn't have much of a choice though. When a hurricane struck, you had to skip going to the movies to see the latest blockbuster and focus on boarding up your house.
Nemsemet was a category 5 hurricane, following an 8.9 earthquake, following a volcanic eruption.
What scared the fuck out of Parael, though, was the fact that he had 0 info on the thing. As a Celestiel, he had the ins and outs on almost every historical figure to walk the Earth. Attila the Hun? Cross-eyed and afraid of frogs. Genghis Khan was into some freaky shit. And Ivan the Terrible was a mild sociopath but loved his pet bunny.
Problem was, Nemsemet went back. Far back. Ancient Egypt was hard enough to follow, but Parael had no idea who or what Nemsemet truly was. High Priest? Fine, they were looking at a powerful Magus. True Pharoah? A Demi-god with ancient knowledge; difficult but not unkillable. An Avatar of the Egyptian deities? Now they were in trouble.
"If I were a praying Celestiel," he said to the mirror, tweaking his eyelashes, "I'd be sending out requests for backup."
The pounding on his front door made him jump and mess up his right eyelash briefly. Parry frowned and looked up at the ceiling briefly. "I said if. Don't take that as a formal request." Parry left his face half made up- a crime in his eyes- and headed down to the main floor entrance.
The Little Angels center was full up with occupants. Fae, a few petty magi and witches, mostly vagrants who wanted a place to stay while the chaos at court was settled. Nobody knew what Parry was, but they knew the place was Warded to high heaven. A few had their kids with them, crowded in the nap rooms like so many people packed into tenements, but otherwise the center was closed for business; had been since the day the sarcophagus opened.
Parry opened the front door, greeting the Lycanthrope with an absurd sight- that strangely masculine body with a female face, long golden hair, in a slinky silk robe that only reached as low as Parry's knees. It was all a big joke- he wore boxers and a designer undershirt beneath it all.
"Well hello, beautiful," Parry said with a smile. Which promptly evaporated when he heard what Tony had to say. "Get in," he said, pulling Tony into the front door before slamming it shut and locking the deadbolts. "Details. Now. Skip nothing. Who talked and what'd they say?"
Oh man... The old Isis charm Parry gave the raid group was a long shot. Looooooong shot. And it wasn't like there were a ton of people who peddled in old Egyptian Magic. Still, they could maybe pin his support on someone else...
