Isla
There's a guy all torn up and well on his way to giving himself alcohol poisoning in the VlamVloed, that's what Isla's been told. And normally that wouldn't be enough for a personal call out, but when the Overseer is told said guy's description, she puts down her paperwork and pulls on her coat to head out into the snow. And when she arrives, there he is of course, deep in his cups and looking very much worse for wear.
"Sunjata?" she says softly, approaching the bar with snow melting in her hair and on the shoulders of her coat. She doesn't take off the coat, not planning to exactly stop and chit chat so much as assess the situation and see if there's a reason he's getting shitfaced instead of having the lacerations all over his chest and neck sorted out. "What's going on?"
"Sunjata?" she says softly, approaching the bar with snow melting in her hair and on the shoulders of her coat. She doesn't take off the coat, not planning to exactly stop and chit chat so much as assess the situation and see if there's a reason he's getting shitfaced instead of having the lacerations all over his chest and neck sorted out. "What's going on?"
sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything
and try forgetting everything
