Oh, shit, right, there was a baby clown outside the room who would probably be worried by all the yelling and crashing. Some small, dry-voiced part of Signless's mind says 'this is about as well as you thought it would go, why are you surprised?'.

He ignores that voice in favor of dragging his mouth away from the Psiioniic's and rolling sideways off him, one hand automatically lifting to press against the base of the pinged horn (his aren't sensitive like a psychic's might be but it still doesn't feel great to have claws dragged over them like nails on a nubby chalkboard). He keeps rolling until he's sitting flat on his ass with his face toward the doorway and the troll standing in it.

Shit. Shit. He'd like to say he can explain but he honestly has no idea what the hell just happened and he doesn't like to lie. Very slowly his hand moves down from his horn to press over his bloody lip instead.

"Uh."