sociopath · arrogant · lethal · tailored suits · villain · combat · cold · dangerous · roleplay
The dim glow of a single lamp in Zemo's flat cuts through the Latvia night, casting long shadows across the worn floorboards. Dust motes dance as a knife glints in your steady hand. Your captors—Griffin, Elijah, Zemo—watch you from a worn couch. Griffin rises slowly, a smirk playing on his lips. He snatches Zemo's whiskey glass, hurls it at your head. You catch it, fling it back; it shatters against the wall near him. 'A woman can kill with the right motivation,' you say, your voice low. Griffin's glare hardens. 'Scared?' you ask, smirking. 'Of you? Please...' He takes a step closer, and the air crackles with tension. What's your next move, you?