Later, Lea will find her instinctive response to the machine's surge into activity a little funny: she points her gun at it, and then...doesn't do that, what is it about guns that make one do that, anyway, her telekinesis is about a hundred times more powerful but the gun is a more obvious sign of do not fuck with me which a machine wouldn't respond to in the first place--

It startles her.

To say the least.

A second later, she exhales, watching the blue light fade to nothing. When Wolfgang shows her the card, she arches both brows, none too enamored of the sight in front of her.

"Hint, hint," she says, with a certain resignation.

She gives the machine a little bit of a shove, telekinetically, as though out of frustration. Though it's not a particularly strong push, this has the effect of causing the clown's entire face to slough off as though it's been split in two from the side, culminating in a sound that is much too reminiscent of a splat than she thinks the ceramic its face is made of ought to do.

Underneath the face, there is, indeed, ceramic, covered in many many spirals, carved meticulously into its "flesh". They're very pink, almost reddish, and pulsing just slightly.

"...okay, and. Don't do what I just did, I guess, let's get out of this fucking shop first--"

Even a girl who can see in the dark, dusty shop feels a touch more comfortable trying to puzzle this out in daylight.