That makes two of them.

Sitting down on the opposite bed, he pulls a garish orange sweatshirt off the floor and tosses it on the bed for the two dragons to sleep on. They pounce on it immediately, walking round and round to make themselves a little nest.

Watching them instead of Hanzo, he reaches up to his left shoulder pulling on some hidden internal mechanism and loosening the plate that attaches to his chest. Each metal panel elegantly slides into the next before he lifts them away exposing his arm beneath. There's faded scars there too, slashes and circular ones where tubing once connected, but otherwise very human.

He extends a finger to one of the dragons, letting them sniff him, "I do not either. You were fine until you touched that thing. I have no idea what it did to you."

But he finds that this version of Hanzo is a little easier to talk to. Someone he'd not mind hanging out with. But first he wants to make sure he's okay.

"Do you need anything? Food? Water? I have some snacks." He has things other than twinkies now, though he does have a lot of those.