Gabriel's knees are always (skinned) wrote in rooms,
[It comes on slowly, like the pins and needles in a foot fallen asleep. Slow enough that he only notices the effect when he spots his own reflection (and affable smile) in the front window of the diner where he works. When it is finally recognized as something foreign, the best he can manage is a sharp, curious jab of his mind at the cloying sensation that fills his head, seeking to puncture and wondering if it will pop like a balloon.]