“What do you mean by that?” It tilted its head.

“I’m passing through. Trying to get to the next lab over to investigate it. I have a relatively good track record of keeping my skin and I’m not an entity marked for death yet, so.” It waved its unloved hand.

The slime stings against its scraped palm, but it shakes properly regardless. "You too, Iris."

"Sick. My name is Ink." It offered it still-flesh hand.

"The hundred pieces? Not really, it was mostly my friend. I did knock his head off though!" It made a swinging motion with its felt hand. "Not that we plan to do it to anyone else. The lab guy was an ass and I prefer talking."