Monday meant volunteering at the soup kitchen, feeding people who needed the food. Moya absolutely loved it, and she had finally mastered serving pasta. The physics to the shape of noodles, the degree to which they stuck together (variable, depended upon which chef cooked that day), and the design of the serving utensil had been calculated fairly quickly. Making her arm move properly to serve the same amount each time, to each wonderful person, was much harder. Plus,the noodles clumped. Still, she made wonderful progress, and they still let her serve food. Perhaps in the spirit of the human holiday, she ought to get John Sheppard a gift too. Moya had no ideas what to get him. John and Aeryn weren't easy to complete. But she knew what she wanted to give them.
That's when clothes landed on her head. More accurately, a heavy jacket covered her face, pulling her head down until her arm helped lift the heavy thing. When something else fell atop that (rough weight small, shape defined - either a bra or a hat), her second arm went up to protect her head. Clothes draped that as well. Strangely, it took a few moments for Moya to realize that she could step out of the trajectory of the clothes. Simple enough. They only spread once dropped a certain degree (dependent upon the elevation of the one throwing the clothes).
Not having her path visible to her sensors (having only two visual sensors faced in the same direction was most inefficient), Moya bumped into someone else. "Apologies," she stated quickly, making sure there were no hull breaches. Everything was fine. Her arm pulled the jacket off, and something crumpled to the ground. "Oh," she looked at the other person closely, "Do you live in Potts Tower? Your face matches visual logs."