Heart-attack [Trying to get out of the room had been an exercise in futility before Steve had tucked his shield back behind him, arm feeling the ache that he hoped faded before he got out of here. And he would get out of here.
Or, should he say they would get out of here. Seemed he wasn't alone in the room and he had to remind himself of that before he let himself try to rationalize his situation out loud. Him, a stranger, and a dead guy. The corpse had been searched and that note? Not particularly heartening. The pedestal hadn't seemed out of the ordinary before, but now? Maybe it was just perception, but he was looking at it like it was one of those sacrificial alters, even if the sacrifice had already been taken.
The intent was obvious; cut out the dead guy's heart and put it on the indentation. Steve wasn't particularly fond of the wording: 'Put a heart--', but as he had no intention of trying to go for a fresher one, that left him with the obvious. Defiling a corpse wasn't exactly something he was entirely comfortable with, but if it was the dead or the living... he knew which choice he'd make.]
You don't have to watch.
[But he'd have to. Spoken to the other party trapped with him, Steve eyed the corpse as he hefted the letter opener.]
Shattered Glass [It was pretty. Like a church window without the mournful angels. Steve had been raised to go to church every Sunday like a good little God-fearing boy. It was that smaller, younger part of him that didn't want to have to break the glass. What if someone was watching, after all. He still had no idea how he'd wound up here or why, but small voice or not, he knew that his main objective here was to survive until he figured that out. Or found a way home.
With a silent mental apology to God and his mother, Steve's fist hit the glass, watching the pieces fall out and hit the ground with a sad-sounding tinkle. He really hoped that hadn't sealed his fate in any way, but food was food and he knew he wasn't the only one here. He looked around for something to wrap it up in. Maybe a bag or a blanket...]
Wildcard [Maybe your character ran into him after he escaped, or while he's walking around with food and they've got the rumblies in their tummies. Feel free to slot something in there.]
Steve Rogers | MCU
[Trying to get out of the room had been an exercise in futility before Steve had tucked his shield back behind him, arm feeling the ache that he hoped faded before he got out of here. And he would get out of here.
Or, should he say they would get out of here. Seemed he wasn't alone in the room and he had to remind himself of that before he let himself try to rationalize his situation out loud. Him, a stranger, and a dead guy. The corpse had been searched and that note? Not particularly heartening. The pedestal hadn't seemed out of the ordinary before, but now? Maybe it was just perception, but he was looking at it like it was one of those sacrificial alters, even if the sacrifice had already been taken.
The intent was obvious; cut out the dead guy's heart and put it on the indentation. Steve wasn't particularly fond of the wording: 'Put a heart--', but as he had no intention of trying to go for a fresher one, that left him with the obvious. Defiling a corpse wasn't exactly something he was entirely comfortable with, but if it was the dead or the living... he knew which choice he'd make.]
You don't have to watch.
[But he'd have to. Spoken to the other party trapped with him, Steve eyed the corpse as he hefted the letter opener.]
Shattered Glass
[It was pretty. Like a church window without the mournful angels. Steve had been raised to go to church every Sunday like a good little God-fearing boy. It was that smaller, younger part of him that didn't want to have to break the glass. What if someone was watching, after all. He still had no idea how he'd wound up here or why, but small voice or not, he knew that his main objective here was to survive until he figured that out. Or found a way home.
With a silent mental apology to God and his mother, Steve's fist hit the glass, watching the pieces fall out and hit the ground with a sad-sounding tinkle. He really hoped that hadn't sealed his fate in any way, but food was food and he knew he wasn't the only one here. He looked around for something to wrap it up in. Maybe a bag or a blanket...]
Wildcard
[Maybe your character ran into him after he escaped, or while he's walking around with food and they've got the rumblies in their tummies. Feel free to slot something in there.]