It was the bowls. And the measuring cups. And ... everything. Forget about the recipes; Gabriel was having trouble with the whole measurements thing. The flour kept sliding out of the package faster than it should, and then of course he'd have too much flour, so he'd have to put more chocolate chips and everything else into it ...
The kitchen had the faint scent of something burning lingering around, though fortunately the fans had taken care of most of it.
Muttering to himself in Enochian, Gabriel snapped his fingers rapidly at the flour on the floor, gave up and got the broom. A few minutes later it was in a neat pile in the dustpan and he was able to shake it out of his hair and clothes. That didn't stop him from still looking a bit dusty as he came out of the kitchen and leaned on the counter, looking the girl over. She was pretty. Then again, she was human. He did tend to try to keep his antics to people more on his level, like gods, or people who didn't really exist at all, like his constructs.
Neither of which apparently existed here in the least. Damn.
"Usually I'd be delighted to render my services to a young lady such as yourself," he said glibly. "But the cook's having some memory trouble at the moment, so if it's actual edible food you want, you'll have to come back in about a thousand years."
no subject
The kitchen had the faint scent of something burning lingering around, though fortunately the fans had taken care of most of it.
Muttering to himself in Enochian, Gabriel snapped his fingers rapidly at the flour on the floor, gave up and got the broom. A few minutes later it was in a neat pile in the dustpan and he was able to shake it out of his hair and clothes. That didn't stop him from still looking a bit dusty as he came out of the kitchen and leaned on the counter, looking the girl over. She was pretty. Then again, she was human. He did tend to try to keep his antics to people more on his level, like gods, or people who didn't really exist at all, like his constructs.
Neither of which apparently existed here in the least. Damn.
"Usually I'd be delighted to render my services to a young lady such as yourself," he said glibly. "But the cook's having some memory trouble at the moment, so if it's actual edible food you want, you'll have to come back in about a thousand years."