Relieved that she was neither about to die, or worse, annoying Quinn, Tillie pulled herself back up to her feet and brushed herself off. It was so easy to get ahead of herself I this job; some people spent their whole lives only ever seeing a Savior from miles away, behind a military barricade. Here she was, getting to work on them every day, and better than that, working with the [i]pilots[/i] too! It absolutely would not do to go about taking such a life for granted. 

That said, when Quinn praised her work, she felt her mind shorting out again, and her cheeks went red as her hair. “[color=f26522]O-oh gosh, uhm! Wow, really? Well, I had really good teachers, and I watched a lot of those, y’know, instructional videos. But it’s neat stuff! I mean, have you ever seen the inside of one of these guys before?[/color]”

She scooped up the device dropped to the ground in their collision, scrolling quickly through dozens of slides of data she’d recorded. She found a page detailing the assimilation rates once everything was said and done, and turned the screen excitedly over to Quinn. It was, really, just a spreadsheet of numbers—albeit all meticulously categorized and color-coded, but numbers nonetheless. 

“[color=f26522]Look how healthy it is! Like, up here is the regenerative rate, right? And here’s the assimilative rate, here—look at the difference! We dropped [i]tungsten[/i] into its stomach, and it converted that into tissue matter [i]way[/i] faster than it would have just healed on its own! I mean yeah the rate tanks with larger injuries but still! [i]It’s like alchemy[/i]![/color]”

She pulled the device, scrolling again just to double-check herself, only to remember that she was, in fact, party to her favorite pilot. 

“[color=f26522]Ohmigosh! Uhm! I’m so sorry—how are you? How’s it goin’ today? Anythin’ I can help you with? Anything you need?[/color]”