Confrontation wasn't even a concept that Isopia understood. What separated confrontation from any other sort of -ation? Conversation? Explanation? Whatever it was, Isopia was unaware that she had kicked their -ation up a notch. For her, the caliber of their discussion was the same as when they had been speaking outside of the caves. The fact that this subject was infinitely more important (at least to one of them), or the hostility that was dripping from both of them, seemed completely irrelevant to the earthen-child.

Snot speckled Isopia's dark mouth and cheeks, but she didn't seem to notice. She blinked, to rid her eyelashes of some particularly liquid-y mucus, but other than that, she seemed not at all bothered by her cousin's flem on her face.

"I'm only in your face like this because you're much, much shorter than I am." She interrupted, her voice prompt and matter-of-fact, clearly not picking up on Ros's threatening tone. If anything, it just made the girl question her cousin's rationality. Was something wrong? Was she brain damaged? Had prolonged exposure to time and electricity fried her capacity to reason? After all, she clearly couldn't even see that Isopia's posture was for her own benefit. Something was obviously wrong with her. Maybe that's why she destroyed the crystals.

Isopia blinked her large golden eyes as she considered Ros's latest threat. ‘Fore I decide to soothe my emotional turmoil all upside your head. What did that even mean? Was she trying to articulate that, whatever she had done to break the crystals, she was going to do to Isopia? Specifically to her head? The skull-masked girl was confused. She was in emotional turmoil again? The same type she had experienced when she was down here before? The girl couldn't help but doubt that it was a coincidence. Perhaps there was something in the air here - something that only effected Ros.

Well regardless, while Ros's defective mental states might have somehow justified her actions - or at least excused them - this -ation, whether it was a confrontation or a conversation, was not over.

"No. I don't know what's wrong with you -" She began, attempting to vaguely gesture at Ros's mental disability and her recognition of it. It was as close to compassion as Isopia could get. "-but you are going to help me clean this up. This matters, regardless of whether or not you can see it. We are going to put it back."

Her tone was level, almost ... casual. It hadn't even occurred to her, despite Ros's hostility and spitting, that she might object to being told what to do.