"Plotting a murder, What'chu up to?" 

The drop dead seriousness in her voice made it hard to allow the joke to be taken as such. 

Old busted brass, that's the first thing that came to mind looking at the man. Probably due to her trying to label all the people earlier. Active bunch as they where. She smirks thinking about the joke she had planned to say but was mature enough to withhold. But How could she not ask it. "Any chance we could change location? This room is startin' to smell like burnt cat hair." 

Not that she had a problem with smoking and or giant human like cats or was it a cat that looked a lot like a human? Maybe she's jumping the gun, it might be a rodent. But anything to get things moving! "Perhaps you can call somebody and inform them, the mail order sitcom has arrived? And one of them is exhausted and very much out of its element, and female. Meaning I might just kill the small female and paint the walls with her innards to establish it's dominance if this is not fixed. Oh and lets not omit that they are late." Not that it was her intent, but she had stood up and approached the man in and sometime in the list she grabbed the mans jacket, she notices and lets it go but maintains the air of assault and battery imminent! Though in her head she is wondering just how much of a terrible impression she can make....Not to mention helping paint a bigger picture to those in the room that she is impulsive. Not that she's not, Well she's not that bad...she's arguing with her own internal monologue...She audibly tch's at the the thought.