your touch is atomic

ISLA "And yet here you are," Isla mutters, gathering herself to her feet and sweeping herself off; almost as if in a perfect mirror to the Lullaby, she wears a soft blue summer dress and tan sandals, her fair hair left loose around her face given the chaos of what she's been up to. Oh, and of course, she's covered in blood. She's not expecting an easy, lighthearted quip from the alchemist, and it catches her so off guard that she responds without thinking. "Your entire wardrobe is faded chambray - I think you will survive." Only as she's trying to get a bit of dried blood out from under her fingernails does she realise the over-familiarity with which she's spoken to Remi, and fuck it's not something she can handle today. "Listen, I don't know why you keep coming back here. I know it isn't because of me, but either way, you don't have to worry about it happening again. Sorry I... you know." With the raccoon, and the pouncing, and the attempted cat play-thing murder.