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@gabrielthemessanger [Cnt from x]

It had been such a super, uncomfortably long day. The woman had spent the entirety of her time sitting downtown (not far from the convention) playing her music and trying to help buy some food for those who seriously were in need of it. So much so, she had just enough to get the room, and a tiny bite to eat.

The man behind the front desk seemed... weird. Maybe he got some sadistic kick off sending her to the least popular room, or he just didn’t like the fact she looked like a transient who actually took care of herself. In any case, the man seemed slightly reluctant to rent the room out to her. No mentions of ghosts, but he did mention the room could be a bit.. distracting.

Stormy had wondered what that could imply! She’ll have to check the room for peep holes. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Crossing the threshold, arms clinging to her things tiredly, the redhead bee-lined directly to the bed beyond the little kitchenette, bathroom and -- the closet the unknown archangel had been lurking in.

Her bag went down first over the bed, then her instruments beside it a bit more gently with a huff of exhaustion lost to the air. Drawing her coat off, she turns back around and places it over the chair just slightly drawn out from the table, and pulled off the top layer sweater to reveal a much lighter t-shirt beneath. Sneakers came off next, tucked under the edge of the table as she bundles red curls up into a loose bun against the top back of her head.

It was just as she was about to lift her t-shirt that she pauses, head slowly shifting to take in the room with that undeniable feeling that she wasn’t alone, What even--- But that would be silly, right?

So before she continues dressing down, she starts to look into the mirrors checking for 2-way signs, looking for holes behind pictures, or anything hidden around the room that perverts might use to spy.

Not finding anything, she returns to the task, drawing the shirt up again but stopping when the bottom reaches her midsection. There’s that feeling again... Her back was aimed towards the closet, and when the light hit it just right, the faintest of scars would become visible. So much so that it’d be nearly impossible to see them had he not been an archangel. Their origin, given the minimal amount exposed, would suggest some kind of old magic.

“H-hello?” She calls out then, brows rising with evident concern.

#gabrielthemessenger #SPN #supernatural #this seems like it'd be soooo much fun