<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/uLVdQJg.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Tw1<br/><strong>Location:</strong><em> Respite</em>Lounge<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open<br/><strong>Notes:</strong><br/><strong>Wounds: 0/11</strong><strong>Strain: 0/12</strong><strong>Status:</strong>Normal<br/><br/>Organics were so strange. The way the big green ones put liquid inside of their faces surely must be dangerous to their internals, the creatures covered in more string than most of the others seemed to be performing some kind of ritual with scraps of paper, and the pale thing seemed to be suffering some form of gyroscope damage based on its odd twitching and shaking. Glowing eyes watched these strange behaviors and others from beneath a less than clean but obscuring hood before turning some amount of attention towards the ship.<br/><br/>Tw1 had seen, taken part in, and received many improvised repairs, scraps of debris used to repair vital damage in ways that would seem insane if there were any alternative other than destruction, and Tw1 saw the same ingenuity of desperation in the ship they stood in. The scrap droid saw the beauty in its inefficiencies.<br/><br/>After some time the small being moved from the corner where it had stood motionless, hopping along on feet wrapped in soiled cloth to prevent the sound of metal clicking against metal, going over to the table where the paper ritual was being preformed, hoping to see if observing closer would help to determine some form of pattern.