"Annnd… end inner monologue," he said to the darkness, moving that strange sense of control into his legs. Really his vessel's legs, not his, but while he was in the body, they were good as his.
So. Vessel was still intact. Not quite sure if that should have been the case, but he'd roll with it. He was already rolling with the idea of being alive, so having an unmutilated body was kind of a step below that.
Now to grasp the concept of not knowing where the hell he was. The perks of being an archangel? Instant knowledge. No one ever got the drop on him. Gabriel should know where he was, what planet, what time (in every timezone), what century, and how he'd gotten here. Apparently a nice big bout of betrayal came with free amnesia. Not exactly a thrilling deal. He would've preferred some –
- fuzzy slippers. He was not wearing fuzzy slippers. Be gone, fuzzy slippers.
But they were still there. Staring at him.
Summary: alive, angel mojo intact. That Heavenly connection had shorted out a couple of times since his not-so-heroic escape, but it was there. A little fritzy, sure, but he'd gotten used to it. Wings intact. Angel mojo not particularly quick to be used. Vessel unharmed – not even a hole in the chest. Fuzzy slippers.
… roommate.
Okay, the one step at a time thing wasn't working so well. There was too much to absorb and there was a human in the room – he'd heard the breathing. A rough shove showed that he was either dead or comatose; another thing Gabriel should've been able to tell without touching him. He was kind of warm, so… alive? But a heavy sleeper.
With nice glasses. Well, if he couldn't make his own (for the moment)…
So. Getting the hell out of here seemed like a good idea, but either he'd broken an imaginary wing bone or something was keeping him from flying out. Which didn't happen. Again: archangel. Nothing beats 'em.
Well, one Guy did, but he wasn't around to be keeping a pet Gabe-in-a-box anywhere.
After a few fumbles around the room which led to a bumped knee, another rather uncomfortable touching of the human, and slamming a closet door, he'd found another one. Presumably into more darkness –
Bingo. Ding ding ding. Winner.
Forgoing the disbelief that he had to resort to using a plastic tube to see - one that he hadn't made himself – and that he was alive and yadda yadda yadda, he took a step into the darkness outside the other darkness.
M13.
So. Vessel was still intact. Not quite sure if that should have been the case, but he'd roll with it. He was already rolling with the idea of being alive, so having an unmutilated body was kind of a step below that.
Now to grasp the concept of not knowing where the hell he was. The perks of being an archangel? Instant knowledge. No one ever got the drop on him. Gabriel should know where he was, what planet, what time (in every timezone), what century, and how he'd gotten here. Apparently a nice big bout of betrayal came with free amnesia. Not exactly a thrilling deal. He would've preferred some –
- fuzzy slippers. He was not wearing fuzzy slippers. Be gone, fuzzy slippers.
But they were still there. Staring at him.
Summary: alive, angel mojo intact. That Heavenly connection had shorted out a couple of times since his not-so-heroic escape, but it was there. A little fritzy, sure, but he'd gotten used to it. Wings intact. Angel mojo not particularly quick to be used. Vessel unharmed – not even a hole in the chest. Fuzzy slippers.
… roommate.
Okay, the one step at a time thing wasn't working so well. There was too much to absorb and there was a human in the room – he'd heard the breathing. A rough shove showed that he was either dead or comatose; another thing Gabriel should've been able to tell without touching him. He was kind of warm, so… alive? But a heavy sleeper.
With nice glasses. Well, if he couldn't make his own (for the moment)…
So. Getting the hell out of here seemed like a good idea, but either he'd broken an imaginary wing bone or something was keeping him from flying out. Which didn't happen. Again: archangel. Nothing beats 'em.
Well, one Guy did, but he wasn't around to be keeping a pet Gabe-in-a-box anywhere.
After a few fumbles around the room which led to a bumped knee, another rather uncomfortable touching of the human, and slamming a closet door, he'd found another one. Presumably into more darkness –
Bingo. Ding ding ding. Winner.
Forgoing the disbelief that he had to resort to using a plastic tube to see - one that he hadn't made himself – and that he was alive and yadda yadda yadda, he took a step into the darkness outside the other darkness.
Posthumous adventure. Woo.
[Over to here.]