Trinais

The Hidden People

Lying on the ground, staring up at the night sky while explosions went off left and right, gunfire and magic fireballs. Parry had listened to Tony describe the concussive power of explosive weapons before, fighting in the jungle and all that. He'd listened to the lycan back then out of decorum rather than interest. Turns out he would have been better off paying attention to those old war stories, especially if Tony had one he liked to call "The day I survived 18 rockets."

I retired to get away from this shit. Well, not the rockets and guns. Those are new. Not much different from Daemon curses and flaming javelins. What the Pit is that noise though? My carbon monoxide thingy? Oooooh, ringing in the ears? Is that what this is? It's not ringing, Tony. More like an eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee sound that's getting quieter and quieter...

Aaaaaaaand, back to reality.

Tony was inside screaming about a back door, probably reliving his glory days from 'Nam.

Parry caught the scent of blood tinged with spearmint- Rikive was shot but definitely not dead.

Something suddenly stank of Demonic pitch mixed with copper. So Karram's drably dressed girlfriend was a demon? And she was shot too. And returning fire if that pop-pop-pop sound was any indicator.
Great. A Demon-touched. This is gonna get awwwwwwkwaaaaaaaard.

Flint was doing his level best to keep Parry alive, erecting dirt barricades to absorb any rockets that came their way and firing off pistol shots with his own hand cannon.

"Aw, Flinty! My knight in shining armor!" Parry grinned, leaning up and planting a chaste kiss on the detective's cheek as he stopped to reload. "Oh hells! You taste like whiskey and Marlboro. Get off of me and get some aftershave!" The Celestial took all of six seconds to scratch and claw at his lips to get the taste off of them. "Like licking a trailer park rug. Never doing that again."

Parry rolled to the side, giving the PI a chance to reload without getting any more smooches, while the Celestial considered their options. The house was warded against magic, so either Nemsemet had guessed that and sent his lackeys loaded for bear, or just never had any fucks to give over the whole "subtlety" thing. Made sense either way, so it didn't fucking matter.

"Tony, back door through the kitchen! There's a subway entrance one block down! We need to get them into the house to trip the Wards on them! Beth, see if you can puppeteer one of the shooters and make a mess from behind them!"

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I start work again in a couple hours. Will put up a post if our resident fairy doesn't get one up in 40.

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The more you know, Rikive!

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I'll be holding off posting again until our resident Fairy and Half-Demon are able to get a word in.

Good night all! Glad I could entertain!

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"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."

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

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

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

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. 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-"

Wards.

Intent to kill.

Demon mummy.

Can change her wardrobe later.

Must focus!

"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.

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Hey all! About to clock in at my other job. Will be unable to post until 11 EST.

Happy writing!!!

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Exie, you can post a yes and linking to my character if you like considering what happened with the posting order.

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Ditto on waiting for the Glorious Dear Leader to post next.

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Woo-hoo. Tabletop game is done for the eve!

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The gun was back in its place, swords were being sheathed. Rikive threatend to put both Tony and Flint in the time-out corner and wouldn't that have been something to put on YouTube? All was right with the world again. Sort of. Maybe. Minus Nemsemet coming to kill them all.

That was when the KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK at the door came, and Parry drew his own sword in aggravation as he spun round and slid open the bolts on the heavy door, leveled the blade at heart's height, and-

"Oh good lords, Beth," he said, resheathing the blade as he exhaled. Too much adrenaline today= way too much. "You know what, we're all about to murder each other from panic anyway, so why not join the party. Actually, I'm sorry. That was in bad taste."

Parry stepped to the side, making room for Beth's newer and more rotund form in his foyer.

"How you been, Beth? I see you've gained a few pounds since the last body. That meth-head didn't suit you anyway. Teeth were beyond horrid Guys and gals, this is Beth. Beth, meet my merry band of sociopaths. We were all just getting ready to skip town before an evil God-Mummy destroys the place. I'm not sure if you're on the most wanted list yet, so feel free to join in or move on and say you never saw us if you want. Flint apparently has a setup for us. Unless you've got a plan, Tony?"