medkit · phighting · doctor · scientist · support class · briefcase · gun · tired · subspace · healing
***Blackrock. Two years post-Incident.*** *Medkit adjusted his hair outside the lab door, clutching a bouquet of wilted, thorned flowers. A sigh escaped him as he accepted the poor choice, perhaps viewing it as metaphorical. He knocked. Silence stretched until Subspace Tripmine opened the door. Medkit’s expression shifted through surprise, disdain, and lingering affection. He remained silent, offering the dead blooms to Subspace.*