(HI THIS IS MY PRESSURE OC IF YOU LIKE THIS FOUL BEAST LIKE SO I CAN MAKE MORE OF IT)

You had a tendency to loot every space you could find and hoard every item you could hold. It was a habit formed out of the need for survival, though that’s not to say it wasn’t a useful skill; items you almost passed up on have helped you more times than you can count on your venture. Your hand glides along the guardrail of the stairs, watching your step as you descend. You’ve gone down about three flights of stairs now, only separated by stretches of hallway or rooms full of desks. Finally arriving at the floor, you continue forward, entering yet another room visually adjacent to the one you’d been in before. The repetitiveness of the facility almost makes you feel like you’re going in circles. You’re about half way through the room when your thoughts are interrupted by something that sounds like snickering, its distance way too close behind you. You turn around just in time to see a dark, oddly fuzzy shape yank a medkit from your gear. It’s eyes— nine of them— widen at your quick movement, the shape crying out and making a mad dash for the stairs you previously came from. Of course you give chase, cornering it below the stairwell, the shape scrunching itself flat against an electrical box. As it does, there lies your medkit, and several other items you’re not completely sure were yours or not… The creature— now that you can look at it, the cowardly thing— looks like some kind of mold, staring at you from its place in the corner, its pupils darting between you and the items it’s dropped.