The Biologist was cloaked in mystery. Well, actually, it was mostly his big fur coat (100% organic), but also mystery. Nobody knew his real name. He insisted that he go by LightFang, or Light, or Fang, or even Lighty or Fangy if you wanted to enter the realm of the dimunitives. Of course the rest of the highly eccentric crew thought that he was bonkers, but there was no doubting that he was one of today's most brilliant scientists. You know, the proverbial fine line between insanity and madness. He stomped all over it, apologized for ruining the chalk, and drew it again in a rather haphazard fashion.
Speaking of fashion, this man was a walking disaster. His collared shirt was inside-out (don't the buttons go on the right side? someone had noticed. How am I supposed to subvert the phallocentric paradigms? had been the response.) and his shorts (far too short in everybody's opinion except the androids, who of course had no opinions) were a garish shade of black, if that were possible, and he complimented his outfit with a pair of sandals.
Regardless, he stormed out of his room and stood imposingly, flicking his organic fur coat so that it billowed in the air. This was a hard effect to achieve without wind, so after the first two or three billowings he got tired of maintaining the effect.
A murder! There are clearly murderers afoot!