#( did i write this entire starter right after saying goodnight on evernote bc I was Inspired ?

[fatherofmachine-a]

@thewhiirlwind​ | PLOTTED STARTER FOR:  GABRIEL

The DARKNESS,  trickled  with the revived city lights,  blanketed the library,  creating a COMFORTABLE  &  quiet atmosphere.  Harold had attempted  sleep hours ago but to no avail,  the pain that ALWAYS resided within his lower back,  hip  &  left leg having dissolved  into disquieting pins  &  needles that made drifting off almost IMPOSSIBLE.  His upper body,  however,  was manageable ;  cold pain that SEEPED into damaged vertebrae  &  sent icy tendrils  throughout his chest  &  limbs,  sometimes even feeling as though they SUNK into the marrow of his bones.  Fingers GLIDED over keys as he made progress on the work from the job of his eldest  alias (  Harold Wren,  Insurance underwriter )—–MIND-NUMBING,  but it kept him busy.

He'd been about halfway through  the work when the sound of something COLLIDING once against one of the distant bookshelves in one of the other rooms  (  followed almost instantly  by the sound of a couple books crashing to the floor ) STARTLED him.  There was a long,  tense pause before Harold lifted his voice,  somewhat tentatively,

❝ ... Mr. Reese ? ❞

But there was NO ANSWER.  Closing his eyes tightly for a few seconds,  allowing PANIC to sweep  over him in waves before managing to regain some control,  Harold remained still.  Exhaling quietly,  SLOWLY,  he stood eventually,  the pins  &  needles within his leg immediately  beginning to thrum uncomfortably with every limping step.  NOTHING,  however,  could possibly prepare him for who—–or,  perhaps WHAT he would find.  In the dim light,  Harold could only see a PERSON standing there,  in-between the bookshelves,   attention seemingly focused  on placing books back upon one of the shelves.  The ones he'd heard DROP,  he could guess,  but it certainly  didn't ease his rising PANIC.

When the person TURNED,  the mild  light from one of the windows ILLUMINATING him,  he seemed to startle  somewhat as their eyes met.  He'd noticed the WINGS as they'd convulsed  slightly with the apparent startle  &  Harold had been almost certain  he was hallucinating.  The man ( being ?  he wondered distantly ) was INCREDIBLY TALL,  several heads  taller than Harold  &  suddenly,  he felt a terrifying wave of vulnerability,  of insignificance.  Brows TENSELY lifting whilst blue eyes narrowed  with unease,  he attempted to STIFLE the panic  that scraped against his nerves.  Harold managed to find his voice soon enough—–&  he sounded a great deal  more calm  &  stern than he FELT,  which was a relief.

❝  I SUPPOSE I should say thank you  for putting them back where they BELONG, ❞

He began,  his curiosity feebly  lifting beneath the almost SUFFOCATING panic,  but he was ... ignoring the fact that the man had WINGS,  for now.  One step at a time.

❝ What you're doing here,  whatever you're LOOKING for  &  how you got in here,  however ... THOSE are more pressing  matters,  I think. ❞