How did one dress for supplying a doctor with a genetic sample? It seemed like a silly thing to worry over, and while Isobel never considered herself to be someone obsessed with her appearance, that didn't mean she liked going out looking like an orphan. So she settled on something casual, a pair of jeans and a fitted black knit shirt, black converse sneakers on her feet. The elevator was ignored in favour of the stairs as she ambled down the several floors it took to get to first floor.
And that's how she came to be standing in front of #102, one hand lifting to give a little knock on the door before stepping back to wait, hands clasped behind her back as she gazed up towards the ceiling. She wondered what the 'doctor' would be like. Was he old? Grey-haired? He hadn't sounded old in his post to her, but of course, people could be anyone they wanted in those sort of things.
"Hope I'm not too early," she murmured to herself, rocking back and forth on the heels and toes of her shoes, amusing herself with counting the stains in the ceiling tiles.