"It's hereditary," John swivelled around in his chair to face the small crowd that'd gathered near his seat, "My dad was a transporter, originally starting out with courier work, and I was born some time when he was doing truck jobs on Nepleslia," He held out his hands, "Big eighteen-wheel deals to get all sorts of stuff from A to B without spending money on a shuttle or plane over land. Risky stuff, but he took me with him on shorter trips to show what happens to how stuff gets transported."
"Your dad was a great trucker," Sebastian pointed out, "He was a bit more than that too. Ever wonder why we lived next door to each other on Ralt?"
"Let me guess," John nodded knowingly, thinking that he was on to something, "He worked with you on some badass dare like me and your son are doing right now?"
"Isn't it lovely when history repeats itself?" Luca rolled his eyes whilst slouching in his seat, knowing that his dear old dad had gotten him into trouble just weeks ago. ((See Episode 5 & 5.5))
"Don't worry, everything between me and Cain is buried," Sebastian assured the two.
"Good, now where was I?" He paused, "Oh, right. So when I started heading to school when we moved to Ralt, Yamatai, my dad pumped a lot of funds into my education so I could get the best flying courses available. Only because of my disability."
Before anyone could get a word in, he put his fingers to the frames of his thick, square sunglasses, and peeled them off slowly. He blinked a little, but kept a neutral face. Harks of surprise and shock waved all around the present crew.
"Look at my eyes carefully," He was able to keep his eyes open, but then he had to squint, grunting somewhat, "The pupils, specifically."
Closer inspection revealed that his pupils were in a very strange blotchy shape rather than circular, and they didn't appear to react to light. There was also some Anisocoria, with his left pupil being larger than the right.
There was a scar from when he was hit with an axe by an octogenarian barbarian ((See Episode 5.5!)) and had to wear bandages for a few days, but it didn't affect his eyesight. That aside, his irises were a lovely shade of turquoise.
"My eyes do not adjust to light properly," He explained as he was now squinting, blinking and looking away, "It's easily mitigated with this customised piece of eyewear, but I'm blind without them."
The light was then too blinding for him to handle, and he had to close his eyes.
"They thought I was a defective and urged to convert to a Yamataian body before training," He put the glasses back on, and resumed normal sight, "My dad intimidated them until they caved in, bribed them too."
He then leaned back with his hands behind his back, frowning a bit, "I got teased for it fairly often, and had my glasses broken more times than I care to count," He then smiled a little, "Joke was on them when it turned out that I was the best fuckin' shuttle pilot AND engineer in the class!" He then burst out laughing, "That - was the icing on the cake - when the Nepleslian 'defective' - sweeps up all the awards on stage!"
He then calmed down, paused and put his hands on his chest, "That's my story. As for when I met Luca, we went to the same secondary, high school and college."
"What did you do in college anyway?" Melissa asked the captain, who was visibly trying to shirk the question.
"It was interesting, that's all!" He replied, beet faced. Truth was, he'd been trying to expunge it from public knowledge as best as he could, since he did barely anything - except for learning how to grapple, box, and physically endure whatever life threw at him. Otherwise he was voted least likely to succeed, and spent most of his time watching movies and getting roped into hair-brained schemes.
MEANWHILE...
Crane turned around to get another handful of food to stuff into the fridge when he leaned in and saw Naoko standing up. He almost went white as a ghost, nearly dropping his load, but not yelling at all.
Echelon was more or less neutral.
"Er," He stammered as he turned around and put his handful of food onto the bench to store later, "Okay."
"Who is this?" Echelon asked as the armour-possessing Freespacer program looked at the 8 inch tall doll, which was apparently able to speak quite politely.
"I dunno... I think we should keep this a secret from the Captain for now," Crane said as he pushed his fingers together, "He's feeling a bit jumpy at the moment, someone sent him a message that 'things will be interesting', he might think you're it," He then paused, "What are you anyway?"
Echelon looked at Crane, then paused for a moment to access some old information, "This is an NH-12. The NH-12 Nekovalkyrja is out of production," She recited this mathematician's answer to Crane's question. "According to Yamataian public domain records, this is a derivative of the NH-17 model, shaped to be only 8 inches tall, otherwise they're identical to the NH-17. They are colloquially called 'Penny Eaters' as a term of endearment."
He then looked around and found a teatowel, and gave it to the doll sized Nekovalkyrja, "You must be freezing," He sighed a little, feeling pity for the small thing. This wasn't the first time he found something unexpected in a fridge or freezer, at least this time it wasn't scary, "Want to sit by the oven? I'm preheating it for dinner."
