Angua von Uberwald

[Private to random recipients and Ben]

[The young Delphine Angua von Uberwald doesn't know how to work her communicator with the same aplomb as her older self -- not enough, at least, to know how to filter to inmates, especially given that she's not clear on the whole warden/inmate division to begin with. She's managed to work out the private function, though, and she knows that this is not a message that should be sent to everyone, so she hits a few names that look likely for one reason or another, largely at random.

The sight of her is probably not what anyone who knows the adult Angua would expect: for one thing, she's crying, and openly so. Her face is bright red and tearstained, eyes wide with what looks like terror. She has her back pressed against the bars of a Zero cell. When she speaks, it's a little hard to understand, not only because of the choked timbre but also the thickness of her Germanish accent.]

Please, whoever is out there, please, you must help me. My name is Delphine. Some people, they -- they've put me in a cage at the bottom of this place, and I don't know how to get out. They just locked me up here and left me all alone, and... [She sniffles fitfully, voice tightening, weepy.] I don't know what to do...

[Open spam, later]

[Sprung free by the strange not-quite-human boy, a much more cheerful-looking Angua pads through the halls, tracing along more carefully now to avoid the particular humans whose scent is practically still -- ugh -- invading her nostrils from when they'd grabbed her before. By now she's starving, though, and eager for further prey...]

((Dated to a few hours after the hostage crisis is resolved! Also, Angua was transformed for almost the entire flood, so feel free to have had your character spot her as a wolf... or spot her running around in the nude when not transformed, because hers doesn't work with clothes.))

[Angua is looking sleepy, but annoyed, her face slightly puffy as she rubs at her eyes.]

Honestly, there are times I think I just shouldn't sleep around here. Ever.

Next person to try something like that gets... well, you won't like it, all right?

[Private to Satsuki]

[She forces herself to relax a little, shaking out her mussed hair.] Listen, I had a thought about the port I want to talk with you about. Have you got a minute?

[Private to the Admiral]

My inmate needs a pet with actual lungs, Admiral. I'd like to requisition some kind of small rodent for Satsuki Yatouji. With a cage and all the... accoutrements, please. A hamster will probably do.

[Warden Filter]

It's come to my attention recently that some wardens have been showing a certain bias against certain residents of this Barge, and that this bias is largely racial in nature. Lads, I'm only going to say this once: vampires may be vampires, but they're our vampires, and they're here to be helped, not harassed for what they are. They're particularly not responsible for the crimes of other vampires.

Please keep this in mind. Mr. Dracula is extremely upset about it, and I happen to know he's not the only one.

[She pauses briefly, struggling with something, but then adds:]

Incidentally, to clear up some confusion on the matter: Yes, I'm a werewolf. As far as I know, I'm the only one -- and I would know if I weren't. I'm a strict vegetarian, I've never killed anything bigger than a chicken -- and I've been steering clear of yours, Arkady -- and no, our bites won't and never have turned anyone into a vicious, drooling animal. From what I understand, those who would be have managed it just fine on their own.

[Private to Satsuki]

Apparently, we were paired up during the last flood. I'm reading your file now. Believe me, I will have some questions, so please come by my cabin in... let's give it an hour.

[Backdated to before Pandora -- Warden filter]

Does anyone have a list of available jobs on board? I'd like to get my inmate something to do. Preferably something that can put his particular talents to use...

...[Sigh.] Which is to say, a great capacity for violence, cunning, and generalized nastiness. I don't suppose we have anything like that, do we?

[Also backdated -- Private to the infirmary]

Yes, er, hello. I'm looking for a medication for my inmate. He said the last person he spoke to didn't have it, but, well... wizards. [She says this like it's supposed to mean something -- which, to her, it does! Quite a lot, and most of it bad.]

Anyway, it's called... ben...zedrine. I think. Do you know anything about it? He said it's for headaches.

---

[And now, a spam for T'Pol!]

[It hasn't been hard to track T'Pol, once Angua worked out her cabin number and picked up the scent. One human, one... well, she doesn't quite know what a Vulcan is, but she can tell it's not human, that's for damn sure. And that scent being the only one like it on the ship, it's a pretty simple matter to follow it through all the overlapping trails, the nonstop criss-cross of people going back and forth in an enclosed-ish space, all the way to where the infected alien's gone off to.

She doesn't approach right away: she sticks near the wall, in the shadows, watching her quarry. Trying to decide, mostly, how much of A Problem this woman is going to be.]

[The communicator turns on, but there's a bit of fiddling and static before she can get it to work. Anyone listening can hear what sounds like muffled swearing. Finally, the video switches on, and there's an attractive young blonde woman peering at the screen, wearing what looks like armor and a loose leather-and-gold collar around her neck. Her accent is difficult to place... sort of English, but not quite, and with a vague trace of something European.]

Oh, dear. I can tell this is going to take a while to work out... We've only just gotten the new clacks up back home. This doesn't run on imp, does it? [She frowns, poking it curiously.]

Right. Well, anyway. Hello, er... out there. You can call me Captain Angua, I suppose.

Wardens? Would one of you mind bringing me up to speed as to what the rules actually are around this place? I wouldn't want to write someone up on, say, thieving without a license, if that's not something you do here. Not to mention something like proffering with intent.

[She spots something moving out of the corner of her eye and turns, squinting... Then she just sighs, turning back to the screen.] So we've got boogeymen on board, then? Anyone got a bit of blanket handy?

[ADDENDUM: A long time later, when she's sure that most people have moved on from this post and won't actually hear it, and filtered to Wardens only:]

Incidentally, I'm a werewolf. Just thought that should... be out there. Please try not to spread it to the inmates, if you would. I've found things are just a lot... easier, when fewer people know.

And no, I won't bite you, and nothing would happen if I did. And no, I don't go wild at the full moon... Although if the kitchen staff wouldn't mind putting out a few chickens once a month, it would be much appreciated.