Test Drive Meme #8

[hadrielmods]

Welcome to Hadriel's test drive, and thank you again for your interest in the game! As always, our reserves page is here, and our applications page is here! Reserves open April 24th, and apps are open May 1st.

Two quick points here as well:

1. Any thread made in Hadriel's test drive will be accepted as the sole Action Log sample in the application.
2. All threads made in the test drive can be considered game canon, either through handwaving or through a shared mental experience while coming through the Door!

Test drives will be broken up into specific god mini-events, during which your characters can see how well they fare under the watchful eye of one of the gods. Choose wisely or just simply pick 'em all, and have fun!

F E A R

SCENARIO ONE: DEAD FLESH BUFFET
[The Door brings in all that is chaotic and evil in the world. This may include you, may include the person next to you... and may include the monster behind you.

Watch out as you explore the streets of Hadriel, because you're not alone, and there's always something lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect chance to swarm around you and chow down. This time, the Door has brought in a group of rotfiends, from the video game The Witcher.

These unpleasant-looking creatures are necrophages, meaning they feed on the flesh of the dead, and if that flesh is in short supply they are happy to add to it. Normally found in groups, they are fast and difficult to corner. What's more, when on the verge of death, they have an annoying tendency to explode into a flammable cloud of poisonous toxins. You left your torch at home, right?]

R A G E
SCENARIO TWO: MMM WHATCHA SAY
[There you were, just walking along the street, minding your own business like a good underground hell-city citizen, when all of a sudden you saw someone. It was like love at first sight - if by 'love' you mean 'deep burning hatred'. You've never wanted to kill someone so much, and why? Well, you're not really sure, but there's probably a reason! You'll just have to figure it out. Or not. Who needs a reason for murder, anyway?

Or maybe you're the one someone else has targeted. Maybe you know they're after you and you're desperately trying to watch your back. Why do they hate you? You don't even know them. Or maybe you do, maybe they're your best friend. Either way, this is a super awkward situation, and someone might end up dead. Hopefully not you!

This is a mini version of our Assassin event this month!]


H O P E

SCENARIO THREE: SCRATCH OFF
[This morning, you received a scratch ticket in the mail (who knew Hadriel even had mail?), addressed to you. The instructions are clear enough - scratch off three matching icons, and you win a prize! Sure, okay. But here's the grand prize: a one-way ticket home.

Unfortunately, try as you might, you aren't gonna win that one, but keep hoping! And hey, just think of all the other GREAT PRIZES you could win: an inflatable duck, a plastic ring to give your sweetheart, an empty can of Red Bull, a cell phone charm shaped like a strange green creature with a boner.

So what if you didn't win that ticket home? You got something almost as good: a shitty prize! Thanks, Hope!]

Comments

The Gray Man | The Raven Cycle

[wasntpersonal]

R A G E

It wasn't a feeling that was entirely alien to the Gray Man. In fact, it was something he'd lived with for a very long time. However, the intense burning hatred deep in chest rarely crossed paths with an intended target. It was the moment that was alien, the combination of elements. The individual parts he knew well.

One moment he was minding his own business, and the next, he's frozen. Gun in hand, pointed at someone he's never seen before. But his stillness isn't out of fear or shock. It's the stillness of someone who's done this before. The quiet stillness of a trained killer. It's the sudden surge of emotion that makes him hesitate. There was only one person for which he'd ever felt such hatred toward. But that man was dead, left at the back of a truck stop with two bullets in his head.

He said nothing, simply staring at his target with steel gray eyes over his steady weapon.

F E A R

These monsters weren't the ugliest things he'd ever faced, but he'd rather be facing off one of the cave nightmares right about now. At least he didn't run the risk of making one explode by shooting it. But if she shot from far enough away rather than waiting until it was right on top of him, it tended to not end with such a mess. His ammo was dwindling, but he'd rather take down as many as he could while he still had the chance.

He rounded a corner to see one ravaging something. He didn't stop to consider what it might be. He popped off two steady shots into the thing's back and it dropped like a puppet with its strings cut. Only then did he see that it had only been attempting to ravage something. Or rather someone.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his tone level as if he hadn't just gunned down an undead monster intent on devouring human flesh.

Fear

[dreamkid]

As soon as the creature fell off of him, Matthew scrambled frantically away, his eyes round with horror and heart thudding in his chest.

"I'm fine-- I'm fine, I think. What--" He gulped, his own voice high and frightened. "What was that?"

His curls created a wild halo around his head, and his jacket was torn, but he'd fended off anything worse with a few decently aimed--and desperate--punches, courtesy of his dead father's boxing lessons. It would've been a lot worse if the Gray Man hadn't shown up when he did.

Matthew skirted anxiously further away from the body of the rotfiend and, without hesitation, closer to his rescuer, a man he didn't recognize. (Between these two, only one of them had ever spent a summer stalking the other's family, after all.) But that fell into line with everything else about the current situation. Matthew also didn't know how he'd gotten here, or where "here" was to begin with. Only that there were zombie monster things running around, and this guy had a gun, which he was apparently willing to use to keep monsters away. All these facts came together to make Matthew even quicker to trust than usual, which was already pretty quick on a normal day.

[wasntpersonal]

The last thing the Gray Man expected to see in this place was a familiar face. In fact, he had the sinking feeling he would never see anything familiar ever again. A strange concept for a man who once tried to be nothing and no one. But despite his best efforts, he'd found a place that for some reason felt like home, with a woman and in a house that went against everything he'd built for himself. There'd once been a time when this strange, underground city would have suited him just fine, but over the last few months so much had changed.

If he were to guess at which familiar faces he might see, the youngest Lynch brother would have been nowhere near the list. He still didn't quite understand the boy, having been absent for the full explanation. He didn't need that to know Matt was special. Just seeing the way Ronan reacted to the cherubic boy was enough for him to see that. The way Ronan reacted to his brother.

Nevermind the fact he'd once threatened Matt's safety to get what he needed out of the other Lynch boys and their friends.

"Something that shouldn't exist," he said, watching the creature on the ground. He held his gun low at his side, ready to fire again if it moved. "We should get out of here. Do you have somewhere safe you can go?" Already falling into full protection mode without even thinking about it.

Please forgive me in advance if I accidentally switch to present tense omg

[dreamkid]

Matthew Lynch was the sort of boy who had grown up being protected, sheltered by his brothers and his home and his own origins. It was only natural for him to fall into that same role now, pressing unknowingly closer to the man who killed his father and giving a shake of his head.

"I don't know where we are," he admitted, his voice low and anxious. "I don't remember how I even got here."

He'd just opened his eyes and found himself underground and sharing this huge, unfamiliar cavern with the rotfiends. It had to be a nightmare, or something. Except Matthew rarely ever had nightmares, and when he did they tended to involve Ronan showing up at the end to fix things, not unfamiliar gray men with guns. Everything felt too tangible to be part of a nightmare, anyway. This place was more like Cabeswater--mysterious, impossible, but still somehow real, and that made the fear more real, too. It settled heavily in his gut at the same time that it drove his heart against his rib cage like a frantic bird.

I probably won't even notice!

[wasntpersonal]

Protecting the Lynch boys was not something The Gray Man had ever thought his life would come to. Five years chasing the Greywarren to find out it was not only a person, but it had family and friends. Five years intent on finding it and killing anyone who got in his way, all for a dangerous man. And now he was one of those things getting in the way. Protecting not just the Greywarren's family, but a dream thing as well.

"Then we have something in common," he said simply. One moment he'd been in Henrietta, mere hours after getting out of that cave. Then he blinked, and he was somewhere else. Picking himself up off the ground, in yet another cave. But this time the monsters didn't have feathers.

Mysterious and impossible had become an on-going theme in the Gray Man's life, so he took it all in stride. "If we're both here, maybe there's others. Your brother or his friends. Come on." He jerked his head back the way he'd come. There had to be somewhere safe they could go. Someone to help them find answers of what here was or how they got here.

rage.

[bekommen]

Nick was no stranger to anger, and this wasn't the first time she'd had a gun pointed at her, either - she'd been mugged once in Chicago, shortly after she moved there from a one-stoplight town in Kansas where crime just wasn't a thing. Maybe kids got busted for underage drinking sometimes, but everyone in town owned a gun, and nobody fucked with anyone because - well. Everyone knew everyone there, and that sort of thing just wasn't done. You don't fuck with people when they know where you live.

Her mind drifted back to that night in Chicago now; indignant fury flicked up her spine at the memory. Whoever this asshole was - too smooth-looking to be a mugger, she thought, too calculating - he had no idea who he was dealing with. Because unlike that night in Chicago, now Nick had weapons of her own with which to fight back.

"Well?" she asked, hands raised in surrender. "You got me. What're your brilliant plans now, huh? I dunno if you've like, noticed where you are, pal, but money isn't gonna do anything for you here, and I don't got any anyway." Also death wasn't permanent, but that was a thought she could afford to avoid speaking, for the moment. No sense giving him any ideas.

[wasntpersonal]

"I don't want your money," the Gray Man said as he calmly flicked off the safety. It's all he said. No demands, no threats. There was no message to deliver, just a life to take. He'd had assignments like that before, but it felt like a long time ago. So much of the last five years had been taken up by one man's demanding search, so it had been more beating information out of people before killing them.

While the certain knowledge that he would kill the person in his sights was not a strange one, having it come on so suddenly was. It was as though someone had cross-wired his brain and took him right passed the planning phase. These things took time. Finding out people's habits and schedules. Finding the best way to take them out that would leave the fewest questions. Make them disappear rather than leave a body to be found if the goal was just their death. Leave them to be found if there was a message to be left. But even that took careful planning, finding the best impact. It was never as simple as aim and pull the trigger, unless it was self defense. And even that he'd find another way.

None of this confusion and turmoil registered on the surface. Nothing more than a slow breath, in and out. There were scant few people who could see such a thing as anything more than a steady breath. But they were a world away.

[bekommen]

OK, this is bordering on stupid, and that's almost worse, because it elicits a different kind of anger, a feeling mixed up with a kind of helpless frustration, and helpless is a feeling Nick can barely tolerate. This guy isn't making a whole lot of sense that she can see. Nick drops her hands, settles them defiantly on her hips.

"Yeah? Then what do you want, huh? You just get off on going around and shooting random people, like a big sicko?"

[wasntpersonal]

"Your life."

The words leapt from his tongue before he had a chance to consider them. There was the urge to respond then the words being spoken, something inside him skipping over the vital step of deciding what the response should be. That cross-wire was bypassing vital parts of a delicate process and making him sound as cliche and over dramatic as his former employer. It soured his stomach. This wasn't like that thing in the last cave he'd been in. That gave a chance at resistance. That had been someone pushing at his back trying to force him into action. This was something else entirely.

"You need to leave," he amended. "Now." Calm and firm. The rest of her question would have to remain unanswered as it seemed all he could say of his own accord. Speaking against that feeling inside him seemed to make it crack. The cool, smooth surface threatening to unleash all that it held back. True rage was not something he felt often. That was reserved for volatile boys like Ronan. Even the vapors that escaped the lid he kept on it made his stomach twist.

fear

[unknowable]

Adam stood, brushed himself off, calmed his nerves mostly through force of will. He wasn't injured, not more than a few scratches, protected by Cabeswater or luck or a combination of the two. But it wouldn't have lasted, he didn't think, so he supposed he'd just been save and should be appropriately grateful.

He was wary, though. He didn't quite ever know what to expect from the Gray Man, knowing what he was and what he'd done. In any case, Adam was nearly always wary on some level, a kind of instinct burned into him. He wouldn't say silent, though, wary or not.

"I'm fine." And then he found his manners, adding a careful "thank you."

[wasntpersonal]

More startling than the monster was who it had been attacking. Adam Parrish. While it seemed almost poetic that they'd meet in this cave-like place, it felt wrong. This was a world away from a cave that ran beneath Cabeswater and the Dittley farm. And yet, here he was. Dusty-haired, mysterious Adam Parrish. A boy he'd so recently helped execute a twisted blackmail plan. What was he doing here?

"Next time, I'd suggest running," he said, eyeing the creature on the ground. "They don't exactly fight fair." He knew he should get out of there, get Adam to safety. But he hadn't been there long enough to know where to go or anywhere that was safe.

[unknowable]

"They run faster than me."

And of course, Adam hadn't seen the thing coming. He was getting used to monsters, had sort of gotten used to them, but since there were new ones every month or so, it was hard to really know how each of them worked. Which were fast, which slow. Which had strange magical abilities and which just had very sharp teeth. Mostly he tried to get around that by avoiding the caves and the colosseum, both places where monsters tended to appear, but he couldn't always succeed.

"I do appreciate it, though. You must have just gotten here." Since Adam definitely hadn't seen him before. "Do you have somewhere to go?"

[wasntpersonal]

"Is it that obvious?" the Gray Man asked with a small twist of a smile. The sort of smile that was more to be polite than out of any actual emotion. Put on like a hat or a watch. An accessory.

Not being noticed was not necessarily an indication that he wasn't there. He'd been in Henrietta long before the boys knew of him. He'd been to Monmouth Manufacturing. He'd watched their preparations for some excursion involving a boat. He'd seen Gansey's books and maps and model of the town.

"I've only been here a few hours. Most of that time's been taken up with these things," he nodded to the creature. "So I don't yet have my bearings." Though what Adam said troubled him, it didn't register in his voice. It sounded awfully permanent. Shouldn't they be looking for a way out?

adds to the pile... also, fear!

[greywaren]

Ronan snarls and kicks at the thing before it just drops, fingers raking down his arms as it goes. At first, he's confused as to why a monster would just stop like that- the attack had given him enough focus and adrenaline that he hadn't even registered the gunshot- but when he looks out and sees the man standing at the edge of the room, the connection is easy enough to draw.

The monster isn't quite dead- it grasps for Ronan's ankles, unable to move itself upright, and Ronan jams his boot into its face, forcing it off and back further as he rights himself and tries to figure out what to do here. He's not bleeding- well, he is, but not very much, and he knows that realistically, they should probably move away from this thing before it blows up in their faces.

Still. Ronan can't quite muster urgency or anything more than a sullen silence, his posture tense, like a coiled snake waiting to strike- even though he'd just been saved by this man, even though he's been saved by him in the past.

"Great. As if the monsters weren't bad enough."

Yaaay!

[wasntpersonal]

The words were no surprise. The Gray Man had so frequently considered himself a monster that he probably would have agreed. But the one who said them was such a surprise that he'd been struck silent. The Greywarren. His target turned strange ally. The one for which he'd sacrificed everything in order to protect. But he didn't blame Ronan for his spiteful words. He'd been the weapon that killed the boy's father. He never expected anything but animosity from that sharp tongue.

"Most people say thank you," he said as he moved closer a few steps. He dropped his gaze back to the monster, weapon trained on the thing's head. "Is there a way to properly kill these things?" So far it had been his tactic to drop them in any way he could, and running. Death didn't come easily to them.

c:

[greywaren]

Ronan scowled at the admonishment, purposely neglecting to say any such thing while the Gray Man moved closer. Ronan neither backed down, nor did he welcome him in deeper, maintaining eye contact as if the monster in the room with them was only a passing concern. For all that he cared about in that moment, it was.

"You're the expert."

His tone was sharp, not really offering assistance in any way. Ronan shifted aside, moving in a way that put distance between him and the monster without necessarily going to the older man's side. He didn't expect the Gray Man to protect him, nor would he thank him for it. Ronan had told him once, a long time ago, that he would never forgive him- and he fully intended on keeping that promise.

"If you drop it here, it's gonna poison us. Let's just go." He gave a halfhearted shrug. "It's not like it can follow me."

yells loudly!!! also rage

[quaerit]

It had been a very, very long few days. Rage was not a thing that sat well with Gansey. It wasn't natural to him. Even when he was angry, he wasn't typically propelled towards violence. He'd thought himself immune to it, so deep was that antipathy. He'd been wrong. Here, the gods took some pleasure in proving him wrong. He'd been fighting it for days, fighting back urges that were alien to him and which horrified him almost more than it had horrified him to be targeted.

Almost more.

He had, more or less, been trying to avoid people. He didn't want to incite anyone else's rage, even though it seemed that the only one after him was Blue. And so far, at least, the only person he'd wanted to hurt had been another girl, one he'd never met and had no reason to harm at all. None of it made sense, and he was at the point where he'd gotten afraid of the rage - afraid of what it would make him do, if he somehow lost control. All of that meant he wanted to isolate himself.

But then he saw a shape, and a face, that was familiar. This was something he couldn't walk away from. Gansey's feelings towards Mr Gray were complicated. In theory, he knew he was to be trusted; he'd helped them all before, more than once. He'd been honest with them when he hadn't needed to be, and he'd done the right thing for them at cost to himself.

He'd also taken a contract that left Ronan without a father. That was something that couldn't be forgotten, even if he'd also saved Ronan's life.

Complicated. But ultimately, he was an ally, and he was someone who'd proven he was loyal - to them, to Blue, to her mother - regardless of his past. And besides that, he was currently targeting someone innocent, someone who didn't deserve the trauma of dying just because the gods were playing their games. Gansey moved forward.

"Mr Gray."

He said it quietly, wary of startling the hit man. The Gray Man knew control, though. It was probably better that he was holding that gun than anyone else.

"It isn't real. You must listen to me. This is being done to you, and you have to fight it. Whoever you're after...please don't hurt them."

8D

[wasntpersonal]

In hearing his own name, or at least what passed for his name these days, it was as though the world came into sharp focus. He hadn't noticed until then just how unfocused he'd been. It was only the contrast of clarity that made him see it. It wasn't a blurring of his vision, but of his mind, to the point that he hadn't recognized the boy before him. Not when he'd spotted him, not when he'd raised his gun. And if there'd been anything said other than his name, he may not have recognized that voice. Gansey. Unflappable, focused, caring Gansey.

Even with an anchor like that, he couldn't make himself lower his arms. It was that unwavering feeling of stillness he always felt when the moment came, the mentality that allowed him to kill easily and frequently. He'd felt it when he'd dragged Niall Lynch from his car. He'd even felt it as he squeezed the trigger at that truck stop, beneath the icy fear. But to feel it when he was looking Gansey in the eye wasn't right. It was all he could do to keep his finger off the trigger, resting on the guard.

"It's...you." He said, slowly, a vague astonishment in his otherwise flat voice. It wasn't surprise that it was Gansey here in this city that shouldn't be, but rather as a response to what the boy said. "You need to leave, Gansey." Firmer this time. For as much control as he had, he knew himself well enough that he couldn't be sure he wouldn't pull that trigger. Perhaps once he got out of here, he would vow to avoid caves. There always seemed to be powers trying to manipulate him into that which he should not do.

Re: 8D

[quaerit]

Gansey kept his hands held up, and walked carefully closer. He had to try and defuse this. Walking away was not a thing he found terribly easy to do, not when it concerned his friends. The Gray Man was not exactly one of his friends, but he was connected. A branch on his tree.

A branch on Blue's. He couldn't just be abandoned.

"This is a trick," he said, carefully, and very clearly. He put as much authority in his voice as he could manage. "You don't want to shoot me. I know you don't. You can fight this. You have to fight it."

Another step closer. He had to try and get through.

"Blue is here," he said, hoping it would diffuse some of the tension. "And Adam, and Ronan. It's all of us. Even Noah, who I'm now not sure you've even met. Have you? If you haven't, I'll introduce you. Just put the gun down, and I'll explain eveyrthing."

Fear! /adds Ravens to the pile

[casperdisaster]

Noah didn't even scream when the monster dropped, still too terrified to make a sound. He's got a - not quite a bite out of his arm, but the one he'd raised to pitifully try to protect himself definitely had the beginnings of an attempt at one when the Gray Man had plugged it and knocked it down. It kept thrashing. Noah couldn't look away, transfixed by its death. If anything the gases that made him cough and bring his shirt up to cover his nose and mouth were a blessing, it broke him out of the frozen terror he had been in.

He tries to move away, falls, scrambles back without really getting up, closer to the Gray Man. He's still shaking. His knife is on the ground where he dropped it. He's never any good with it unless someone else needs his help, it seems. Noah was always better at dying if his life was the only one on the line.

He slowly lowered the shirt again, looking up as Gray asks if he's okay. Noah is never really okay.

"... Mister Gray?"

It takes him a moment to find that name, to not find Dean Allen to not find Blue's Mom's Boyfriend.

All the Ravens!

[wasntpersonal]

Of the names Noah had to pick from, that was certainly the most neutral. The safest. One of the options would not have been wise. Not that he would react poorly in a visible way, but it would work its way inside him in a cold and cruel sort of way, an unseen hurt of being forced to recall a past that should now be long dead and behind him. The other would have had quite the opposite effect, filling him with light and warmth of what he hoped to be the future that lay ahead of him. He would not mind at all knowing at least one of Blue's friends thought of him as Mr. Maura Sergeant.

Keeping the creature within his line of sight, The Gray Man, stooped to offer his hand to the fallen boy. Steady and strong still, even as the noxious gas rolled off the thing. "Did it hurt you?" He clarified, since Noah had not actually answered the question. It wasn't that he wasn't surprised to see someone from Henrietta in this cavernous city, but rather it seemed surprisingly fitting. All of the people he'd come to know and had grown close to were capable of so much that he'd once thought impossible, so while it was unexpected it wasn't surprising.

we flock you see

[casperdisaster]

Unexpected but not surprising should have been the city motto for Henrietta, let's be real here.

Noah takes the offered hand - his own is warm and alive, not cold and insubstantial, but he's never certain who knows he was a ghost or not. It's difficult to place liner events sometimes. A lot of the time. He's still a slight thing and accepts the hand up as his legs are a little too shaky to do the work even if they can keep him up once he's gotten there.

"Just - I don't think it's too bad?" Noah says, holding his injured arm to his chest. As long as that thing didn't carry any diseases or poisons in its bite, anyway. He ducks down to grab the knife he dropped. It's a good knife. Noah doesn't hold it properly. "I'll go to the clinic and get it bandaged."

lingering ravens - i am sorry - rage

[ampliat]

Blue wasn't born a scavenger, but she has made herself resourceful. Her clothes are the most obvious example of her resourceful mind. All the ways she can make something old new again. It was better for the world that way, and it was more unique to her.

This was a talent that came in handy when Blue taught herself to scavenge. Because that was what was needed in a city that was sparse yet full all at the same time. You just had to know where to look. And hope with just enough hoping that some pieces would fall into all the right places. Self-designated as one of the gatherers for the motley crew of ravens, Blue was out scavenging the city today. Not the caves, she wasn't ready for cave exploration, but the city was safe enough on a usual day. Ish.

It worked itself out.

Her bag was slung across her chest, carrying the same things she always carried with her: her mirror and her phone. In her pocket was her switchblade, and in her hand was a short sword she'd not perfected the use of but if she found a switchblade safe she found a short sword even safer. It was like this that Blue found Mr. Gray, having only just realized she'd brought a knife to a gun fight.

"Mr. Gray?" Her eyes held the question, locked on the weapon pointed at her as she froze in front of him.

[wasntpersonal]

How had he not recognized Blue of all people? The feeling had come over him so quickly, he didn't have a chance to process the figure before him until he heard his name. She was one of the last people in the universe that he'd wanted to hurt. He'd gone to great lengths to ensure she wasn't hurt. He was a monster turned hero for her benefit. Why then was he pointing a gun at her with that absolutely certainty that he would kill her? That terrified him almost as much as the existence of his brother had.

With obvious effort, he lowered the gun, aiming it at her feet instead of her head. But the feeling wouldn't leave him. It was likely something inside him had fractured and the wrong things were leaking everywhere. With Blue, he'd only ever really been Mr. Gray. By the time they met, her mother had worked her magic, eroding the hard shell that was The Gray Man to expose the new thing beneath. This feeling, however, was so completely who he had been before he'd set foot in Henrietta that he found it unnerving to feel it when he looked at Blue.

"I don't think it's safe for you to be here," he said, sounding strangely calm. It reminded him of that cave where they'd found Maura. Like someone else had their fingers in his head. A seductive whisper that urged him to do something that he would have never considered of his own accord but made it feel like his own idea all along. "You should go." He didn't have the words to explain it beyond that.

[ampliat]

It doesn't register in Blue's mind that Mr. Gray's warning refers to himself as the threat and not some other outside force. In this place, it could be anything really. To her, she imagines that as a newcomer he's concerned about her general safety in this place. And already she's dismissing that concern.

"It's not so bad out here on an average day," she already speaks up without asking for clarification.

Instead she steps closer to him. He's lowered the gun, so in her head everything is as normal as a cave full of murder really gets. What's one extra murderer among this crowd after all.

"You just got here, right?" She continues instead. She's looking around for any monsters. That's typically what they associate with the newcomers. Monsters always arriving in batches to terrorize those that have just arrived. It's odd not to see any, but not unheard of. Her grip on her sword loosens slightly.

"How are you doing?" She looks back to him, the concern clear on her face.