Lincoln had upsetting thoughts of his own, but they felt muted. Pushed down, under this... soft, quiet hopelessness. He took another bite as he thought about what he'd want to do.
"At MIST. It's very large. But I didn't want to wear my vault suit anymore," he told her.
He moved to sit on his couch, settling in, holding the jar. "What if I don't want to go anywhere today?" he asked her.