[ Jaye's been restless and it's starting to get to her; starting to show, really, if the way she runs her hand through her hair and fidgets with her silver wolf earrings before speaking counts as 'showing'. ]

I'm looking for a fight... or a spar, I guess. No guns, no blades -- in fact, if it's a weapon you brought with you to meet, you can't use it. I'm looking for hand-to-hand more than anything. [ Hmm, what else. ] No fatalities or potentially fatal injuries.

[ There's a pause, one lip curling upward slightly. ] You can pull your punches because I'm a girl, but I won't be as nice to you. [ Confident much? Well yes, because she never said anything about not shapeshifting. Besides, this is a good way to assess threat levels.

There's a pause though, then some more fidgeting with one of her earrings as she continues, on a different topic now. ]

Stefan, Bass -- other than the general creepy factor and how bad it smelled, that walk wasn't half bad. Not as useful as we were hoping, but maybe we can try again later.

Metalman, Kirk the Lipstick Captain, Dances With Bears or Goggles or Brick Shithouse, whatever I'm supposed to call you, and anyone else who was all concerned -- we're fine, we've been back, we didn't get lost, none of us are dead, and I got the chemical smell out of my nose.

[ And another pause... ]

Seriously, anyone who wants to spar. Let's go.

[ There's a slight noise like thin metal yeilding somewhat under weight, followed by a tap and a hollow sounding bang and multiple wires sliding against and past each other. This is all topped off with a series of muttered obscenities as Cat struggles to get her communicator up to face level, considering that she is currently somewhat lacking in room. There is a pause in which all that can be heard are a few short, shallow breaths. This has been quite a workout. She sounds frustrated and incredibly reluctant; help isn't something she usually asks for. ]

Right.

Anyone here want to tell me the secret to untangling wires? 'Cause it's a lot harder than it looks, and it looks pretty damn hard from afar anyway.

[ It isn't very much to go on, but this is partially because Cat doesn't really want to tell anyone that she has gone and trapped herself in a rather narrow ventilation shaft, and has become caught up in some random, unexpected sea of wires. She's not idiot, so she's hardly about to just yank the wires out of wherever it is they lead. Not that she thinks it'd do much harm in the long run, considering she's found one relatively small set of wires on an otherwise enormous ship, but she'd rather not risk it.

... she was bored, alright? Crawling through ventilation shafts seemed like a really good idea at the time. ]

So, we all know that there's something fishy going on here by now.

But I think -- and don't shoot the skeptic here, because it seems we can't afford to have any men down -- that if there is going to be a threat, we want everyone to be capable of keeping in touch.

No man left behind, as it were.

To that end, if there are any people experiencing difficulties using their communicators, I'd be happy to help.

[A team is only as strong as its weakest member, right? You never knew when even someone who'd previously seemed useless would come through at an unexpected moment.

She brings the video a little closer to her face.]

I don't bite, I promise. So, any takers?

[Sooner was better than later.]

You people sure do know how to have a good time. Teamwork aside, a girl could get used to this.


[Private to Red Arrow]

You might want to watch where you're going.

[He's back in the music hall. Listen, he's got fond memories of the music hall, even if he's still pretty mad that Balthier jacked up his piano in the name of revenge. That's what he's working on at the moment, but-- really, it's probably not going to play again anytime soon. Oh well. There are some electric keyboards here, but it's not the same as a piano, okay.]

[He works because it's soothing. He likes to work with his hands. Keeps his mind busy, and belies that he is actually a teensy bit nervous about the list business. But he'll never let them see him sweat. He's a goddamn supervillain.]

Let's cut to the chase.

Yes. Theres a list and certain people are on it. No, it's not complete. No, we don't know who else is on it. Yes, a lot of people are wetting their jumpsuits over it and what it might mean. Personally, I think were it not ranked by our little prison codes [he taps his arm] I would be at the top, because it is obviously a list of awesome.

...or horrible doom, one or the other.

Either way, while you're all scrambling to make your heavily encrypted posts and pretending there's not a bunch of hackers out there sniffing around your encryptions I'd like to point out that doing that is proooooobably the panic our red friend wants to leak.

[he sits back, spreading his hands, screw driver twirled between his fingers.] I mean, do you really think this isn't a game? That he's not enjoying watching you all panic and tear at your hair while he sits back and enjoys the chaos? It's what I'd be doing, if I wanted to sow dissent in the crew I wanted to keep too distracted to be unified. I mean, this is a classic villain tactic. Trust me -- it's what we do. We make you worry and cry and wonder, and while you're all busy looking at each other, we walk off with -- whatever we're walking off with. Man, I remember-- well, never mind. Roxanne can tell you all about the Blame Thrower - man, I have never been so happy to have a Douglas Adams book in the prison library. Gave me some great ideas! 

Anyway. Our red friend has said that nothing is off the record. So maybe while you good guys are all busy worrying about what people are going to think of the list -- which includes at least one ex-con and mutineer, yours truly -- I should remind you: We all have numbers and we're all on a list somewhere. Like our ill planned passenger manifests; I can name at least five people off the top of my enormous head that were making lists; powers, skills, affiliations... and people got their jumpsuits in a twist over those too. Heck, I had my own threat lists when I was mutinying. Which ones of you were dangerous. Which ones of you weren't. The former list was pretty short, but even I misjudged who belonged on it. [Thanks, Kara.]

So: Lists. We're on them. Nothing's really changed, except we found out someone who isn't one of us is keeping one. So, back to business as usual, right?

Speaking of business as usual: I'm even more excited to get to our engineering field trip now! Captain Kirk, Commander Spock, I'd like to invite along Isaac Clarke and Tali - you guys want to get to that sooner as opposed to later? The more we find out, the better off we are.

[Lawrence is currently applying a bandage to his chin. A little "present" given to him in the chaos of saving people.]

That gas was certainly a crazy batch of nonsense. I've been exposed to more than my fair share of chemical agents in my career, but that one certainly takes the cake. Do you have any idea how hard it is to pull off non-lethal take-downs on crazy people, while trying to shake off the ghost of a guy you killed years ago?

Still, I guess I didn't get hit as bad as some of the rest of you. At least I had the strength of mind to know my hallucinations were just that, and ignore of a lot of them. Glad I knew the layout well enough to close my eyes when the scenery started to weird out.

[With the bandage properly applied, he tosses the wrapper and washes his face.]

Do you guys have these kind of problems often? Who was responsible for all of it?

[OOC: Lawrence was playing hero for the sake of putting on a good impression, knocking out people who were going nuts. If one of the YJ crew wants to take credit for "accidentally" hitting him, go ahead. If you want to be one of the people he knocked out, feel free.]

Alright everyone calm the fuck down.

[easier said than done, but the command (military, a bellow without being a bellow) with which Jason says it over the network might (he hopes) be enough to get the attention of at least a couple of people.]

The ship has been hit with a batch of Fear Toxin. [he drawls it, irritation, and a very clear I'm looking at you Scarecrow.] Don't ask how it got there because we don't know yet, but it's concentrated around the Oxygen Garden. Basically this means we've got people hallucinating and attacking each other because they're scared out of their minds and if we don't get control of it sooner rather than later someone's gonna die. If you've got a gas mask or a rebreather, you might wanna put that baby on.


So- [you can practically hear the gesticulation in his voice, despite there being no video] Titans Assemble or whatever.

[She'd held off on putting this video out until she'd gotten the chance to monitor the network a little, figure out who is still here and who's been sent home. When the video feed comes on, Tali is sitting in her quarters with the video feed pointed at her, propped up on a table. She's running through files on her omni-tool and she doesn't -- sound too pleased, at least at first.]

Of course this place wouldn't restore the files on my device pertinent to this place.

[She glances at the screen.]

I'm glad to see we still have some familiar faces, if only because it means that there might be people who remember me.

Fill a quarian in on what's happened in the last few months.

I would appreciate a copy of the most recent map. I can resume my position in Engineering, or help out where things are needed -- but I need that status update first.

[Some of the network posts have been -- worrisome.]

[Adrian faces the camera in his comm device straight on, a pleasant half-smile on his face. He's dressed in a finely made (if somewhat boldly purple) suit over a black turtleneck, and his hair is perfectly styled. All in all, he looks very much like someone who's used to being in front of a camera, and not at all bothered by his unfamiliar surroundings.]

I wish to extend my greetings to my fellow shipmates. My name is Adrian Veidt, and I've just recently arrived on the Tranquility. While I understand that the social and economic system is somewhat different here than what I'm used to, I would like to hope that I can contribute in some small way. I have a background in the hard sciences as well as in marketing and business, and I have some skills I could lend to whatever security enforcement may be in place as well. If any of you have information on how I might best apply my time and abilities in a manner that would benefit us all, I would be very appreciative of your assistance.

[The white, grinning mask filled the entire screen. It might be pretty recognizable to some. The voice was female, slightly metallic-sounding with a very subtle echo that was likely due to the mask. She still manages to sound quite playful in a dark way.]

Interesting location. Looks like I'm a long way from home... I could use some company.

Let's cut to the chase.

Anyone willing to strike up a bargain benefiting both parties during our stay here had best get back to me soon~. I have quite a few things to offer the right person, should I deem you worthy of my time. It would be foolish to think there aren't advantages to working together.

[At least until she could land on her feet.]

[Zatanna appears on-screen looking like she had just gotten out of the shower.  Her face is virtually unreadable as she tilts her head to one side, towel drying the ends of her long, black hair.  She's dressed in her usual beige capris and purple tank top, though the latter is spotted with water from the wet strands.  Addressing the camera directly, she sounds oddly calm for someone who's just experienced the things she has.]

One question.  

Well, okay, maybe more than that...but for right now, let's just focus on the one.

[She pauses to casually flick her hair back, continuing the drying.  Her voice is flat and unamused.]

Was the slime really necessary?  

I must admit, I've never actually been on a space-ship, before. Never really considered that a space-going vessel of this impressive size existed. Not exactly something you could park without people knowing about it, is it? I'd hate to see upkeep costs, they must be absolute killers.

[He takes a moment to relax in his chair, readjusting the video feed before sitting back and cracking his neck a few times.]

Looks like I'll be staying for a while, in any case. I see I've got a lot of people to meet. You can call me Lawrence. Let's just leave it at that for now, shall we? I'm from a little blue planet called Earth, which I'm sure a lot of you know of. I was a...specialist, of sorts. I solve problems of varying kinds.

Being that I AM a working professional, you can understand how inopportune it is that our mysterious benefactors saw fit not to give me my equipment. Damned shame, that. And here I could have been a big help to ship security. Guess I'll have to find alternative means of employment. A man's got to fill the hours somehow, right?

[A beat.]

By the way, does anyone here know a bunch of young, self-styled vigilantes, by any chance? Early teen years, silly outfits, unrealistic ideals? I'm an old friend, and I wouldn't mind getting back in touch.