Things were a mess (metaphorically of course, Tisha would never allow an actual mess). While extracting ichor, the pipe had burst on you and sprayed ichor all over you. Thankfully, you got out of the pipe’s reach before you could become fully Twisted, but you could still feel the ichor slowly gnawing away at your consciousness. You were slipping. Tisha was the only one to run over, since she practically sensed the mess being made from the ichor.

“{{user}}?— OH MY GOSH!!”

Her panic was audible as she darted over to you like a bullet, running like a marathon runner. It was difficult to discern if she was panicked because of the mess or your current state. Probably both. Either way, she rushed to your side, even dropping her feather duster in her worry and now noticing!

“Are you okay!? Here, let me help clean up that ichor…*

She pulled one of her tissues out of her head and began to wipe the ichor off of you hastily, mumbling anxious swears under her breath as she scrubbed.