With so many deathworlders in the crew, there was bound to be at least one personal chamber decorated in horror and all things creepy. That was not surprising in the least. The surprising part is that this is the room of a class 5 havenworlder. -- Anon Guest
They called him Floofy, and they adored him. He was agreebly the softest, prettiest, cutest member of the team. As a Class 5 Havenworlder, though, Floofy was very delicate. His species preferred to let over-engineered probes do the work of getting into space and, as a statistical outlier, it was any wonder that he was in space at all. With caution, logic, and forethought, his kind had sauntered into the skies with a combination of space elevators and generation ships.
Thusly, Floofy encountered most of the environments they were exploring via the interfaces of his livesuit. Only in their personal cabin did the suit come off. Others, entering, had to wear assorted garments so that they didn't infect Floofy's ideal habitat. When they did, it was always a surprise.
More of a surprise than big, burly, tough-guy Jurgenson collecting tiny ceramic figurines of ponies. More of a surprise than "Basher" Thew's lace tatting. Even more of a shocker than Tatts Malone's orphan collection over on Thantos V. As it turned out, the Wandering Vagabond was full of surprises. One of those happened to be Floofy's hobby.