"I find that being composed is far more useful than falling to panic." She takes a step to the side as confidently as she can manage, attempting to disguise it as simple pacing. "If you're asking if I have an opening for you, I'm certain I can manage to fit you in."

"I'd prefer to be called Psychologist at the moment," She reaches deeper into him as she throttles the curiosity from being enhanced anymore than it already is, but letting the tunnel vision continue to do as it likes. "May I ask just what it is that you're doing here, since this apparently isn't a regular haunt of yours?"

She nearly stops breathing when whatever it is starts to move out from behind the van. Straightening her own posture out as she checks the surroundings for possible exits should she need any. Shifting her weight so that her back is facing the nearest accessible ledge, and stepping closer to the van as she finally sets her eyes on the famed Hatman.

"Come here often?" She asks, thanking herself for keeping her helmet on to better obscure her identity.

Perking up at the sudden drone of clicking and humming coming from just below her, Sarah swings off of her bike and pockets her keys before slowly moving towards the source of the noise. Keeping her footsteps calm and careful, avoiding stepping on anything loose or fragile. Stepping down to the appropriate level Sarah's gaze centered onto the old van up on cinderblocks. Pausing after each step towards the van, paying attention for any potential noises that might come forth. Stopping her approach once she's roughly 3 meters away from the van as her attention catches onto the very large and very numerous insect legs peeking out from beneath the van.

Watching this person's power sweep into a flurry of actions is fascinating, and just a tad distracting. But her search so far hasn't revealed any suspicious persons. Just a bunch of empty cars and that van that's been in this garage longer than she's been in the state. Turning back around up into the garage once more for another pass Sarah decides to try something. Halfway up the garage she pulls into an empty space and directs her attention towards her current target. Giving their mind another onceover before focusing in on a surprisingly underused sense of aggression, for a cape, and threading her own power in before thrumming it to life for a few seconds. Cranking the aggression as high as she can bring it before dropping it back down to null all at once. Keeping an ear out for anything of note, heavy breathing, cries of frustration, or anything of the sort that might peak above the distant din of the occasional passing vehicle.

Sarah slips pulls her keys out of her pocket as she approaches her bike. Already reaching for her helmet in her saddlebag, when she feels someone enter her range, probably a few levels below at the moment. And what an interesting someone this is, if she didn't know better, she might think they've been lobotomized. Practically half the mind accessible to her power, and so many options for what she can do. It's honestly worrying. Checking around her for anyone of note, she pulls her helmet on and straddles her bike, ready to cycle through the parking garage in search of whomever she's sensing.