Guest Room
An Angel's Home
AliannahOmen Angel
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Lineage : Omen Angel
Position : None
Faction : The Rune Knights
Posts : 2673
Guild : Guildless
Cosmic Coins : 0
Dungeon Tokens : 0
Age : 26
Mentor : Deniel
Experience : 1,362,393
Character Sheet
First Skill: Calling of Heaven and Hell
Second Skill: Fallen Angel Take Over
Third Skill:
- Post n°1
An Angel's Home
Guest Room
Shakil- -
Lineage : Power of Apocalypse
Position : None
Posts : 346
Guild : Guildless
Cosmic Coins : 0
Dungeon Tokens : 0
Mentor : N/A
Experience : 325
Character Sheet
First Skill: Curse Of Oni
Second Skill: - - -
Third Skill:
- Post n°2
Re: An Angel's Home
It was the crack of dawn! Birds chirping their pleasant songs, morning dew trickling about the plant life here and there, the lush trees brushing their plentiful, leafy tops up against one another in response to the cool morning's breeze. The sun could be seen rising just slightly above the horizon, and clouds danced across the sky like brushstrokes. This was the sort of morning you would hope for on a perfect day, with the perfect setting, and the perfect plan. Yes. Today... today this redheaded young man with dazzling golden eyes and wild red hair had been up early this morning. Very early. Before the crack of dawn, even! And he had been up not just lurking around the house, trying not disturb the (Probably very dangerous when angry) young woman who had also been inside this private residence, but also with a master plan! And his name was Allen! You'd also be surprised on how early he woke up. He goes to sleep on when Alyia did if he didn't doze off before. His sleeping schedule... is terribly off schedule. Yet somehow he wakes up at crazy hours as sober as the next guy?.... Not the point. Today, Allen had been downstairs in the kitchen with the most confident look on his face. It was hard to believe how confident he looked when he was wearing an apron that was way out of size for him, no shirt, and just some lounge pants. In fact, he would only wear these pants if he couldn't wear his robe. Boxers were too tight and uncomfortable, and shorts felt weird. It was either these soft, cozy pants or the whole package. And why was he wearing this ridiculous outfit? Well, he was going to cook today, for the lovely (Again, probably extremely dangerous when angry) young woman just doors away from him. He wore the tiny apron because he has seen chefs and cooks wear them when cooking... he didn't think size mattered. No shirt? He was raised in the wild. Shirts were sins... or just very foreign to him. And the lounge pants were already explained. He took one deep breath before nodding to the kitchen appliances in front of him, "Okay. I'll do this from memory. Heh heh... shouldn't be too hard. I don't think so... people make breakfast for others, right? Right. So... uhm..." Near one of the corners of the kitchen counter was a little container for three particular objects. A spatula, a cutting knife, and a large spoon, "These are for cooking, right?..." He spoke questionably to himself before reaching the grab the spatula, which was oddly familiar to him. "Oh! I remember this!" He grinned as he began poking and swishing at the air like he was wielding a sword... he enjoyed play fighting with the knives and kitchen tools when no one was looking. To Allen, he felt like that 'training' was going to pay off. But everything when smoothly after that. He grabbed some eggs from the fridge, and found a skillet in one of the cabinets, and even he knew how to make an omelet. Or so he thought. He practically broke the handle when he slammed the skillet onto the largest burner on top of the stove and twisted the handle to it's highest setting, which is not something you want to do with any egg. He and practically poured an entire bottle oil inside of the burning skillet to add a little 'nature's flavor' to it as well. After thirty minutes of adding things to the omelet and cooking it... much longer than it should've been, Allen had completed the perfect dish for the perfect woman on the perfect morning. Except that the omelet was as black as coal and insides of it was filled with all sorts of meat, more meat than vegetables... he didn't know what that was. His forehead had a thin layer of sweat and didn't bother to turn the burner off after removing the omelet from the skillet and onto a plate, accompanied by a fork and spoon. He was going to burn the house down one of these days, if not within the next hour. Placing the plate on the nearest table, and ignoring the popping grease in the background, Allen had exhaled with pride. "Okay... I hope she likes this.." He smirked before lurking off to her room again, searching for her if she wasn't already awake... oh no. But fortunately, the omelet (If you can even call it that. More like "Mystery Food X") had his heart poured into it. But apparently his heart is as black as coal? | ◀ MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS |