My Parasite Skill System

This residence is mine.

And so, just naturally, the inside of it also is mine to scan around.

Thus: what about the inside of it?

When I plunged inside, entering by the gates, my sight spread out on all the first floor. I could discover it.

"'Tis my house, so I must get to know it very well!" I declared, before really diving into it.

Covering the whole of this floor you would find one big room. An open room. With no door whatsoever if not the double-door of the entrance.

When you got into the residence, the broad area–making up some sort of living and dining room at the same time–would just open itself to you and scatter to virtually all edges of the house.

This was the main room. My brains tell me this.

Wherever the wooden tiles of the ground would go and spread, the main room would follow them and scatter itself around the first floor doing this.

So that created much space. In a sense, that's what I discovered here: space.

Needless to say, this very layout made that main-living-dining room very roomy.

Liking that broad setting, I smiled and nodded to myself, "Good, good."

And as my old man would say, 'Openness and straightforwardness were two qualities every individual should strive to get for themselves.'

And that would constitute for another one of Old Sipping's oh-so-numerous sayings.

How is that correlated to that residence? Well, as I saw this residence now–I could see them both.

Openness and straightforwardness.

Old must've been even fonder of this new residence of ours than me, ha!

It was just like this: straightforwardness in the way everything was well-organized and directly 'getting to the point,' if you understand what I mean coming from a house;

And then, openness.

Openness in the way everything isn't all that much tight at all. And that simply lazily dragging my feet across the whole of this wide chamber, I could go anywhere, and fiddle with every little piece of decorations, here and there, without a problem.

Well, well, well. I understood Old Sipping didn't certainly mean it that way, though.

I couldn't just take straightforwardness and openness in a house and say it would go along with Old Sipping's words, immediately making it a good house–but so what?

I was still up to doing that, you know.

Also, openness, following the ways of the furniture.

There wasn't that much furniture.

But still, quite just enough of it, making it, then again, a very straightforwardness kind of dwelling.

On one side to the left, there were two couches, of the same expensive fabric and everything. Two sofas of the same kind.

They were facing one another, privately taking up a good little quarter of the open area.

And with a large coffee table in between the two of them, they couldn't and wouldn't reach out to one another. They were separated. And as such, telling themselves funny stuff and jokes, to pass the time, being super-cool sofas, wasn't one thing they'd be doing.

And that was it about them. It also was it with the very large coffee table.

They were kind of standard, yet punching at the same time. All of them wearing their different shades of black, being coupled with the brownish dark color of the wooden structure–I liked that.

The only particularities of this group now, was that on the couch nearer myself, there was a little cute elven princess whose complexion had regained much colors (I think, I don't really know, too dimly lighted) and one set of wrapped up stuff on the small table.

Well, that was that.

Parting with them like this and walking for ten steps or so (encountering one little step-up on the way) you would go and bump into one big fancy table surrounded by all its even fancier chairs–I didn't like that, it was really ugly; so my eyes had to escape and flee to somewhere else.

Working my way around the ugly table, avoiding at all cost not to get my eyes on it; I continued thus when I reached one end of the chamber.

There was one window here. And so, "these are the curtains."

The curtains and the very reason why the main room was so poorly lighted.

But I liked it that way, only dimly lighted, and kind of dark.

That, because first off–I had no trouble seeing in the dark (no need to thank my [Night Vision] skill I'd obtained from I don't know exactly where).

And secondly, well, there was no 'secondly.' Or maybe there was a second point, but I unluckily got to forget it.

I was still in front of these windows, running my fingers across their transparent glazing.

Facing it, at some point, I pulled the curtains a little.

And when my relaxed pupils went in contact with the sun again; I recoiled a bit, frowning and narrowing my eyes.

From there, I could see no Old Sipping down the alley. And that princess' carriage was still there.

"The big people must be talking stuff and fine-tuning the little ends of the business," I muttered to myself, when the glass became blurry, "oh!–sorry, window."

Parting with that transparent glazing, my hands left the curtains to fall.

And so they simply came back to their place of settlement, preventing the sun from coming in again, "Good job, curtains," I let out, taking a few steps behind … "Ah."

And I came to notice there was a door here, on this side, "Hm."

Was this one sort of room just like the ones there were in inns?

"My brains tell me you are called a bedroom. You will be Old's. Not me's. For me's bedroom, I will prefer the second floor … a promise between me and the clouds–you couldn't understand."

Preferring the second floor if I ever needed to sleep again (I didn't like sleeping and thought I'd try my best not to ever fall asleep, I thought on the moment) I went on to the next.

With the same sluggish demeanor and legs, moving on to walking around the first floor again; I got to the kitchen.

Just like the main room was open–the kitchen room also was open. It was just like a part of a greater assembly.

Well, it was an open kitchen. With a high counter cutting a rigid limit between the kitchen and the living-dining room.

High stools lining themselves upon each length side (with two on each side it, being planted to the ground and unmovable as they were) of the high counter, I nodded to them, "You're raising the level. Like that."

The stools and high counter were standards, too. Just like the two sofas and coffee table. But they got this little piece of charm added to them … maybe in the way they were so evenly displayed round their counter, with the kitchen being right up ahead of them … well: they were cool.

But that was it, really.

Visiting a residence really can be tiring and tedious and above all else: very boring.

But cheer up, myself!–you aren't done yet!