[ Hm. Alright. He takes the battery and concentrates, mind immediately sparking to one of the many times of Red Wine being irritating. It fits the mood, and Allura is transported - briefly, and not literally - to the midst of an arm wrestling match, deadlocked against a pale-skinned man with dark hair and a snooty general disposition which has been erased by a complete determination to win.
And maybe, just maybe, she'll notice the destruction of a strange, tentacled beast just behind the match. ]
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[ He slipped into that too easily, and the realisation is unnerving. He's become so used to this place now.
But more to the point... ] What do you mean?
[ It's the battery's fault? ]
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Fill it again. But this time think of something - a memory, a song, anything.
[She's going to get to the bottom of this.]
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And maybe, just maybe, she'll notice the destruction of a strange, tentacled beast just behind the match. ]