As she was led back into an interview room, Quinn was left on her lonesome, sitting down in the chair, bouncing a little in excitement. A few minutes later, a woman with an eyepatch—just like hers!—walked in, started talking, and sat down across from her. Her smile brightened.

"[color=FFE63D]You can just call me Quinn, if you want![/color]"

This woman intimidated her for some reason.

The eyepatch—it [i]was[/i] nice to see someone else with one, really. And the 'twinsies' did seem like she was trying to put her at ease. 

But something about her made Quinn feel like she was being judged. Well, of course she was being judged. It was an interview, after all. Being judged was the whole point. But...[i]judged[/i] judged. So for the first time since she left her room, she let herself slow down a bit, and collect her thoughts a bit more. And she tilted her head a bit at "funny," let that bright smile dim slightly. Did she do something wrong? She didn't want to be yelled at.

"[color=FFE63D]Well, it's my first time outside, so I was wondering what was happening in town. I've never been, and it looked like a lot of fun. Then I saw a sign for pilot interviews! I don't know that much about pilots or Saviors or anything, but I...[/color]"

She trailed off. She didn't really know what the question was, but that felt like the wrong answer. What should she say to this woman? 

Ah, that's what the judge—y was reminding her of. It was kind of like the way Mom looked at her, every once in a long while. She definitely reminded her of Mom, at least just a little. But she loved her Mom. She frowned. So why did that look make her feel so ill at ease?

"[color=FFE63D]...I—I don't—I'm not used to all these people, and the dock was really busy and loud and kind of overwhelming, so I thought this would a little quieter?[/color]" That wasn't the right answer either. She looked stupid. This woman was going to get mad at her, she knew it sure as she'd ever known anything. Her words started to stick in her throat. "[color=FFE63D]And I—well, I still don't know much about pilots, but I guess I've—[/color]" No. No. That answer was bad too. She was starting to feel a little bit dizzy and lightheaded. Her stomach felt...strange. Off, somehow. Like it never had before. She couldn't explain it. It didn't hurt or anything. It just felt [i]different[/i], a twinging feeling from right down in the pit.

A deep and elemental fear began to build in her. Maybe this woman was hurting her. She acted nice, but why else would she feel like this? Maybe Mom and Dad were right and the people outside were going to hurt her. Maybe they were right, and it was [i]going outside at all[/i] that was hurting her. It was making her sick. She never should have disobeyed them. She could feel her breaths turning shallow in her chest, and her heart was pounding in her ears. Her hands clenched into tight white fists on the table in front of her, and she stared at them. She thought she was about to pass out.

She thought maybe she was about to die.

"[color=FFE63D]Sorry,[/color]" she muttered, voice shaking like a leaf. "[color=FFE63D]I don't—feel quite right.[/color]"