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((OOC: She will be answering things here, naturally. She's just a jerk.))

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[Foiled.

He braces himself and holds out his arms, wearily.]

[As it does in many situations, doom takes a little bit to fully settle. It's possibly her preoccupation with getting the dressing off of the burn tissue gently, then cleaning...

The first expression is surprise, and it quickly settles into confusion as she turns his wrist, comparing the burn against the length of her fingers.]

Ccchhhronnnoo...

[Maybe, if he adopts an expression of genuine shock and ignorance, the doom won't be quite as serious.

Maybe.]

—Oh!

Well then....

[Perhaps, indeed, if he had managed anything remotely approaching genuine. There's a comical absurdity in how gently she lets his arm drop... and how bruising the noogie is that follows it.]

Is that all you have to say?

[The response, likewise, is predictable.]

Ow ow ow- You're overreacting again! Rosette!

How is it overreacting even a little? You're a jerk, you know that?

It's overreacting because it's not a big deal at all! It's just some minor burns! They don't even hurt.

[She knew Chrono well enough that he wouldn't admit it hurt even if it did.]

It doesn't have to for it to slow you down. Do you even know if you can get infections?

[There's no preamble, no warning, she just cracks the seal a tiny bit. Just like that.]

[Of course.

He tenses, watching the burns pale and heal over, just as quickly as she cracked the seal. There's no sense in him resisting it when the power has already left her.

He doesn't object, at least not verbally, but much of the good humor from earlier slips away.]

[And it's closed the very next second.]

Honestly.

[He turns his arms so that she can see, hoping to appease her.]

There. It's fine.

[While she watches the gesture, eyes scanning the smooth, unblemished skin, it's hardly with the critical look she normally would have. He wouldn't be making the offer if anything was actually left.

With a satisfied nod, she starts rolling up the bandages carefully. They're bound to need them again.]

Good! [She glances back at the wreck of the kitchen and sighs.] There's still so much to do.

[He doesn't follow the glance. It's too soul-crushing.]

... Go get cleaned up.

We can worry about it after we find breakfast somewhere.

Well, I'm not going to turn down an offer for a break.

[She picks herself up and dusts off her skirts. The gesture, it does nothing.] ... This thing really is ruined...

[He reaches out to tug on it a bit, turning the fabric this way and that to inspect the damage.

... He's not sure his laundry level is high enough for this one.]

Well... I could try, but...