[Even as he's resolved himself to revealing it, there's still a paranoid itch in his skin that's screaming bad idea, bad idea because it's always been one up to this point. But Psii grits his teeth as he shoves it down.]

I'm... precognitive. I uthually throttle the vithions until I can ignore them- they never tell me anything fucking good like the goddamn lottery, pieceth of thit that they are- but...

If you wanted, I could... keep an eye on them for you. Let you get prepared for any bullthit.

[He says it all fairly calmly, but his claws betray his own anxiety as they knead in and out of the coat.]