ROBCO EVENT LOG V2.66
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Owner Pose
Nemo Rolling out of bed in the vehicle bay, their makeshift garage, Dr. Booker rises to a hangover. Grumbling, he picks himself up off the sleeping bag, and wanders into the Medical Bay. At the sink, he washes his face and hands, before getting a look at himself in the mirror. He hisses out a wince, touching his arm. Dutifully, he rises, and begins to undress.

The isn't the first time he's had to patch himself up, and it won't be the last time. "Thank the wastes we found that Auto-Doc." Tossing off his combat armor, and his poncho, Nemo stands in his bodysuit, punctured and bloody in multiple places. He loads stimpacks into the Auto-Doc, and programs information into it. Laying out on the bed, he let's it do his thing.
Nemo Working methodically on the almost nude man, wounds are stitched up and medicine is pumped into him. Mechanical arms move swiftly, faster than any human's could. Still, it took time, even with advanced healing. Out of the corner of his eye, Nemo spots something in the dimly light medical bay. "Who's there? Who was that?"

Silence hangs in the air, save the whirr of the machine, stitching him up.
Nemo Finally, the Auto-Doc finished it's job. Or rather, it started beeping, alerting Nemo to the fact that it needed more enzyme solutions to finish synthesizing his flesh. Sighing, the old chem cooker turned 'Scientist' got himself up and dressed, ready to get shot again. "Note to self, get more caps." He put on his hat, and stepped out the door.