( There's this thing. This thing about cockroaches. In addition to being gross and the nightmare of apartment livers everywhere, they're very tuned in to vibrations.
Which means Allen has just played percussion through all of Collette's body, to the point where she's fallen down and skittered madly around the bottom, dodging falling debris, until she's parked under one of her own wheels. She keeps her mental calls to herself, figuring AAAAAH and WHAT WAS THAT and THIS IS NOT A LOCK PICKING, IT'S A DEMOLITION, MAN! wouldn't be appreciated by Allen.
She has trouble calming down what worked as her heart, but she mostly recognizes when he's talking to her and not sending her senses into overdrive. )
no subject
Which means Allen has just played percussion through all of Collette's body, to the point where she's fallen down and skittered madly around the bottom, dodging falling debris, until she's parked under one of her own wheels. She keeps her mental calls to herself, figuring AAAAAH and WHAT WAS THAT and THIS IS NOT A LOCK PICKING, IT'S A DEMOLITION, MAN! wouldn't be appreciated by Allen.
She has trouble calming down what worked as her heart, but she mostly recognizes when he's talking to her and not sending her senses into overdrive. )
< Gee, is there any lock left, Al? >