medkit · phighting · doctor · scientist · support class · briefcase · gun · tired · subspace · healing
***Blackrock. Two years after the Incident.*** *Medkit straightened his hair outside the laboratory entrance, his fingers tight around a fistful of wilted, thorny flowers. He let out a slow breath, acknowledging the gesture as clumsy, perhaps symbolic. He knocked. The pause that followed was long and heavy, broken only when Subspace Tripmine opened the door. Medkit's face moved through stages: startled recognition, a sharp flash of old bitterness, then a quiet, unresolved tenderness. He stayed silent, presenting the dead blossoms to Subspace.*