[Albel was certainly a sight to behold as they sauntered into the building. He was near covered in blood, to the point where it was hard to tell his clothes had actually been purple at some point in time. His hair was a matted mess, and one of the wrappings on his tails had come loose, with strands of hair flying everywhere. Still, despite his unkempt appearance, he had an almost lazy, content smile on his face.]
[That was, until he saw Fayt in the kitchen. He cast a worried gaze to Cliff, though there was a mischievous glint in his eyes.]
He's cooking; we need to retreat.
[Because Albel was clearly never going to let Fayt forget about blowing up the kitchen. Never.]
no subject
[That was, until he saw Fayt in the kitchen. He cast a worried gaze to Cliff, though there was a mischievous glint in his eyes.]
He's cooking; we need to retreat.
[Because Albel was clearly never going to let Fayt forget about blowing up the kitchen. Never.]