Steve nods; he certainly seems impressed. "That must be nice," he says, smile soft, maybe a little wistful. "To have it in the family like that."
Although, "God. I know the feeling," he has to admit. Not that he's the one literally putting people in the ground, but he still thinks he can understand. "I would imagine that's the hardest part. Life's... life, but it can still get to you, when you see so much of one side of it. Healing must have been a whole new ballgame. I could see why you'd choose it."
His smile twitches a little, then, curling up a bit more at one corner. "I would be honored, though. If I were to ever need services. Which is a distinct possibility, in our line of work, isn't it." Or when you're Steve Rogers. Or both, combined.
Not that he's planning on not surviving this, but he's aware that plans don't always mean much.
"Mm... just wish I'd been ready for Garner or Mr. George." But that's very melancholy talk for a party. Mercy shrugs her shoulders and offers him a sad smile. "I think they'll have moved on to a good resting place, though. I actually took up Garner's god, Pelor. He asked me to before he died. And Mr. George was a good man. Whoever his god was, they'll keep him well."
"Truth told? I... don't know too much, either." Mercy rubs at the back of her neck, tone turning more that a little awkward. "I'm trying, mind! He's the Dawnfather, and I know he's about second chances and redemption. That seems more than a good enough god to serve. Should've talked to Garner more about him. Just seemed like there'd be time for that."
And she hadn't been thinking about changing to another religion. "I've been doing sun salutations in the morning and a sort of goodbye prayer at sunset. If you got any ideas about how to praise someone like that, I'm all ears. And hoping he'll appreciate the effort, even if they aren't the rites he's used to seeing from his faithful."
Steve's smile is soft. He knows the feeling that you'll have more time - and then losing it right through your fingers - pretty well.
But all told, "I think it's the trying that matters," he says. "My religion was always very... uh. Structured. But what you're doing sounds pretty good to me."
The sun, though. That makes him think, "Stained glass. Something like that might be nice to hang in a window? So the sun can shine through it." That's not worship, exactly, but it might be a nice reminder.
Mercy brightens at the idea. "Oh! I like that. Stained glass. Prisms, maybe? So you get all the hues of light at once." It's something to figure out, how to best set things up in her and Aelwyn's room at Bonnie's. "That's a wonderful idea. Thank you, sir. I'll work on getting something like that set up. But for today... reckon we ought to be celebrating the changing of the season. You ready to get back to it?"
"Exactly." It's not the reason for stained glass in the catholic church, but it still works, he thinks. And it'll look nice, doing it.
"You're welcome. Let me know if you need any help." He doesn't know much about that kind of thing, but he knows a little. And a guy can learn. He's always happy to help, and this seems like more than a good cause.
But not today. Today, they do have some festivities they should probably get back to. He takes a breath of fresh air, and nods, then offers his arm. "I'd be happy to accompany you, if you are, too."
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Although, "God. I know the feeling," he has to admit. Not that he's the one literally putting people in the ground, but he still thinks he can understand. "I would imagine that's the hardest part. Life's... life, but it can still get to you, when you see so much of one side of it. Healing must have been a whole new ballgame. I could see why you'd choose it."
His smile twitches a little, then, curling up a bit more at one corner. "I would be honored, though. If I were to ever need services. Which is a distinct possibility, in our line of work, isn't it." Or when you're Steve Rogers. Or both, combined.
Not that he's planning on not surviving this, but he's aware that plans don't always mean much.
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"I don't know anything about Pelor," he admits. "But I think that's really gracious of you, doing that for someone."
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And she hadn't been thinking about changing to another religion. "I've been doing sun salutations in the morning and a sort of goodbye prayer at sunset. If you got any ideas about how to praise someone like that, I'm all ears. And hoping he'll appreciate the effort, even if they aren't the rites he's used to seeing from his faithful."
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But all told, "I think it's the trying that matters," he says. "My religion was always very... uh. Structured. But what you're doing sounds pretty good to me."
The sun, though. That makes him think, "Stained glass. Something like that might be nice to hang in a window? So the sun can shine through it." That's not worship, exactly, but it might be a nice reminder.
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"You're welcome. Let me know if you need any help." He doesn't know much about that kind of thing, but he knows a little. And a guy can learn. He's always happy to help, and this seems like more than a good cause.
But not today. Today, they do have some festivities they should probably get back to. He takes a breath of fresh air, and nods, then offers his arm. "I'd be happy to accompany you, if you are, too."