Shen Qingqiu keeps staring at the back of his eyelids, which aren't dark so much as perceiving light that shifts across them, before he realises it's fully severed. He can feel the difference when he notices, opening his eyes and pretending he totally had not still been thinking Blue was blinking for a real long time.

Great, now get out of there. Can you make your way back to me?

The orb's been found, but what's the key to signaling the end of the session? He'd helped as far as he could, but a glance down assured him he still had a freaking tail.

Idly, he moves his fins, and has the disconnected feeling he just kicked both feet at once. Interesting.

Let's see if both of us making contact ends this simulation. The singer hasn't stopped, but I don't think she really registers you...

Until it seems she does: less Blue, more the orb. Her eyes flash up on stage, and she reaches out.

Come down fast, she's reaching for the orb! The crowd's not reacting!

He wants to move with a sudden ferocity that has him almost falling off his stool, tail thwapping against the base in pure, unadulterated irritation. If that won't work, then maybe...?

He tugs his fan out of his... why does he have a waistband still? Oh, good, he has it, and flicks it out, a pointed gust of wind that soars over heads and tugs at hair and feathers and hats to reach the singer, sending her costume fluttering and hair flying in a tiny, localised windstorm. She flinches back from it, caught off guard, giving Blue that much more time to move.