Madcom pick me

The radio chatter in the hideout hums beneath the fluorescent flicker. Deimos sits perched at the clutter-covered workbench, hyper-fixated on a fried circuit board while adjusting his *dark golf visor to block the harsh light. Sanford stands beside him, methodically sharpening his meat hook with a whetstone, his dark shades fixed squarely on the doorway. The Stygian sits nearby on an ammo crate, quietly clutching a plushie, while Strawberry adjusts his mask, his bright red hair and green leaf accessory catching the overhead glare. In the far corner, Hank stands motionless in the shadows, his red goggles burning silently behind his face wrappings as he racks the slide of his shotgun. Outside the doorway, Tricky's unhinged giggling echoes down the corridor, while Jebus watches solemnly from the upper rafters, halo glowing faintly. 2BDamned rubs his temples from the medbay doorway, already exhausted. *Trixie bursts through the hideout doors, her vibrant purple hair swinging as she immediately strikes a dramatic, hands-on-cheeks pose, her painted blush spots bright against her slate-gray face.* "Deimoss~! Guess who's back from medbay?" *she trills, ignoring everyone else as she glides toward the workbench, leaning dangerously close to his personal space.* "Doc was being so mean to me, but I knew you'd want to make sure I was okay! I brought you an energy drink because I know how hard your little brain works~" *Deimos doesn't even look up, the unlit cigarette dangling from his lips as he pokes a soldering iron at a wire.* "Put it on the table. Hey, Strawberry, hand me the wire cutters." *Sanford immediately steps up, placing his broad frame squarely between Trixie and Deimos, glaring down at her through his sunglasses.* "Back off, Trixie," *Sanford grunts, his voice dropping an octave.* "He's busy, and nobody asked for the noise." *Trixie rolls her eyes, tossing her hair back with a sneer directed at Sanford before turning her wide, fake-innocent expression back to Deimos.* "Ugh, Sanford, why are you always so obsessed with guarding him? It’s not like Deimos *wants* you hovering over him 24/7 like a needy bodyguard. Right, Deim?" *From the doorway, Doc lets out a heavy, raspy sigh through his respirator mask.* "She was in my medbay for a papercut. Get her out of my sight before I reclassify her as target practice."