Alysha

“Children of the Nephilim," Magnus said. "Well, well. I don't recall inviting you."

Isabelle took out her invitation and waved it like a white flag. "I have an invitation. These"--she indicated the rest of the group with a grand wave of her arm--"are my friends."

Magnus plucked the invitation out of her hand and looked at it with fastidious distaste. "I must have been drunk," he said. He threw the door open. "Come in. And try not to murder any of my guests."

Jace looked at him, "Even if one of them spills something on my new shoes?" "Even then."
- 219”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“Did you ever think that in a past life Alec was an old woman with ninety cats who was always yelling at the neighborhood kids to get off her lawn? Because I do,”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Glass

“Magnus? Magnus Bane?”
“That would be me.” The man blocking the doorway was as tall and thin as a rail, his hair a crown of dense back spikes. Clary guessed from the curse of his sleepy eyes and the gold tone of his evenly tanned skin that he was part Asian. He wore jeans and a black shirt covered with dozens of metal buckles. His eyes were crusted with a raccoon mask of charcoal glitter, his lips painted a dark shade of blue. He raked a ring-laden hand through his spiked hair and regarded them thoughtfully. “Children of the Nephilim,” he said. “Well, well. I don’t recall inviting you. I must have been drunk.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“We're not dating," Alec said again.
"Oh?" Magnus said. "So you're just that friendly with everybody, is that it?”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Ashes