ISLA
The forced acceptance is something Isla needs, and she finds herself smiling back into her drink as she suddenly has plans for the next day; unexpected ones to say the least. "I'm not sure I'd want fish nibbling at my fingers," she says, as if the manicure might end up following the same pattern as the pedicure, "and I suppose we could, yes. Granted, I take care of things on more of a pastoral level. I'm a doctor." It has only just occurred to her that Flora might think she's an active participant in the brothel.
Some things in the works is enough of a tell for Isla not to probe more into it, and she gently clinks her glass against Flora's bottle of gin instead, as if to wish her the best in her endeavours. As for her own plans, Isla shugs openly. "I don't know," she confesses. "I'm still getting accustomed to being an Ancient, truthfully. I was an Ascended for years, and being able to taste and feel still surprises me."
Some things in the works is enough of a tell for Isla not to probe more into it, and she gently clinks her glass against Flora's bottle of gin instead, as if to wish her the best in her endeavours. As for her own plans, Isla shugs openly. "I don't know," she confesses. "I'm still getting accustomed to being an Ancient, truthfully. I was an Ascended for years, and being able to taste and feel still surprises me."
she's a runner
rebel, and a stunner
rebel, and a stunner
