Re: Log: Iris & Isaac
[Maybe the area wasn't the best, but it was within walking distance of the shelter where she was staying - less than a mile, at least. Before her time in Italy, she likely wouldn't have even attempted it. But even with the still-healing cuts that covered her body, she forced herself to walk to the club. She didn't have much other choice, having no money for a cab.
When she knocked on the door, she was wearing the same thing she'd been wearing to all of her interviews: black trousers, a white button-down shirt done up to her throat and ironed as best as she could, and a grey cardigan buttoned over it. The shoes were simple, flat, and her hair was pulled back into a low bun (thanks to one of the other women - Iris still couldn't bend her arms back that way without hurting herself and re-opening a wound). The guard that answered the door took a moment to look at her, assessing, before allowing her in at her quiet request to see Isaac. She followed as quickly as she could, though all her hidden, still-healing injuries meant that her steps were slower than they perhaps should have been.
The glass encasing the office was mirrored, and she caught sight of herself as she approached. It was nothing spectacular in her opinion, especially as her eyes went to the flaws and ugliness she found in her reflection. It didn't take long for her to shift her eyes away, as the guard was knocking carefully on the door and then letting her in.]