#deaconl

Alright, that was it. She was calling it. The incident with the Minotaur attack had been the most fun she had in the laboratory over the past few months--well, except for all the deaths of course. Autopsies had been put on hold as more patient samples were being sent in with incident findings and no prior records since most of these people weren’t from Icaria. With the hospital being understaffed, she had to step in and help out; something she hadn’t been able to do in a long time. Lately, things were going back to normal, and she had nothing better to do today accept fling projectiles at Deacon from across the room with nothing but her fingers, a rubber band and folded pieces of paper. “Why so grumpy, hotshot?”