sad eyes on happy faces

Isla take your medicine "Oho, we're pulling that card are we?" Isla grins to Sunjata, resisting the urge to poke him hard in the ribs only because she knows she's more likely to sprain her finger than do anything to him. "I'll have you know that I couldn't give a fig whether you're a demigod or oh so important." It's irresistible, wanting to sass at his cockiness, and Isla takes a long pause to sip at her cocktail. "However," she concedes, "since you also happen to be my business partner and my very good friend, I suppose I can overlook all of that. Maybe." Rubbing at the bloodstain that will probably have her deciding to throw away her sundress, Isla taps her straw against the side of her glass and furrows her brow at him. "Not to ruin the hilarious banter, but I don't think I have given you a check up yet, have I?" And normally who would really care, with the Flood being who he is, but Isla knows his history, lightning scars and memory loss and the rest, and if nothing else, she feels like Nate would want someone to make sure Jata is okay.