Steve McGarrett

Wo Fat's assistant approached with yet another injection and Steve, you know, Steve was tired of being injected. So as she approached, he set his feet (still tied to the chair, and screw you so hard for that, Wo Fat), tested the arm restraints, and waited. She got behind him to plunge the needle in the back of his neck and he jerked forward, then back, headbutting her and causing the chair to flip over and snap one of the arm restraints.

( Where Steve remembers he's a terrifying badass. )

[OOC: For them who are in Honolulu!]

( This is all totally fine )

And that was when Steve slowly blinked awake. He was in the corner, alone, in a blindingly white room, the fluorescents up high enough to almost stop shadows forming. Shoving aside whatever that dream had been, he did a quick assessment of his condition as he climbed to his feet: shoeless, gunshot graze on his left arm, injection wounds further down on that arm. His weapon was, unsurprisingly, gone, as was his badge.

He banged on the nearest wall. "Hey! Let me out of here! Hey!"

Whoever had him responded by flipping one of his family home videos--the hell--up onto the back wall, and Steve watched himself as a kindergartner trying to impress his parents with a cool shell he found. The movie clicked off, the lights went back up and gas hissed through the vents. Shit. Steve pulled his shirt off and pressed it over his face in a vain attempt to filter out whatever this new substance was, then passed back out onto the floor as the shirt did absolutely nothing.

( Steve, your brain. )

[OOC: Establishy!]