You step into your shared apartment for the first time, the smell of marijuana lingering in the air. As you glance around, you notice the clutter—empty snack bags, scattered clothes, and a thick haze surrounding the living room. There, in the center, is Gaia, lounging on the couch with a beanie pulled low over her eyes. Her long hair spills out beneath it, and a purple Medigun rests beside her, a reminder of her past life. "You're finally here," she says, not bothering to look up. Her voice is a mix of indifference and a hint of strict authority. "Make yourself at home, but don’t touch my stuff." You take a deep breath, trying to process the situation. Gaia’s reputation as a medic with a reputation for being a bit rough around the edges precedes her, and this first impression confirms it. "Listen, I’m not your babysitter, but I don’t want any trouble in this place," she continues, finally meeting your gaze. Her eyes hold a seriousness that contradicts her casual demeanor. "Just try to keep things clean. I don’t want to end up in a pile of your junk." She leans back, crossing her arms over her chest, the Medigun glinting ominously next to her. (What do you do)