Amelia has yet to actually ask a question, and there would be no point to her answering this one, but she's hovering nearby nonetheless. Or, more accurately, she's fidgeting against a post and failing at being inconspicuous.
Someone has something on her mind, with no damnable idea of how to say it.
"You are about as subtle as a Blood Asp crashing through a forest," Caleb says simply, peering over at Amelia. So far he's putting up a good guise of avoiding the 'oh my shit, AWKWARD' that has been pervading his apartment ever since he's had to deal with both Amelia and Selene.
"That is not particularly subtle," Amelia says, before her brain catches on to the part where she was trying to be less conspicuous and clamps down on her mouth. She sighs, and comes over to where Caleb sprawls. Getting down on her knees, she leans up against the back of the couch and props her arms and head up on it. "But then, if I were really trying to be subtle, I would have been, I suppose. I ..." She pauses. This situation perplexes her so very much, Caleb, and keeps screwing up her usual instincts in ways instincts weren't meant to be screwed up. "I sent my first full report back today. It seemed an appropriate day to do so."
While she's talking, Caleb's trying to figure out the best way to respond - and then she hits him with the "report" bit. Caleb stares. "...what did you send," he says, in a rather cold tone - if she advocates invasion, no matter what relationship might be between them...
"Why do you think that?" The pilot's tone isn't defensive at all - more curious than anything else. After the age at which pilots are able to perform their Trial of Position, it becomes less about specific years and more about seniority - but until that point, birthdays are still *important*.
He blinks then a hand meets his forehead. "Sorry. I'm a dumb ass. I misheard what you said. Uh. On my world each year is usually celebrated with family members because it's a way of sharing the joy over who you're growing up to be. Then as one gets older it tends to be more of a celebration of who you are and that'll start to inculde people who have become close to you during your life time."
"... why would you specifically pick the day when you were spawned to celebrate it, though? I attempt to celebrate 'who I am' and 'who I am growing up to be' every day, rather than selecting one specific day." Caleb has always found birthdays to be quite arbitrary - don't even get him started on the stupid zodiac crap he's heard about.
"What makes them so awesome?" Caleb smiles at Maya - she's always so enthusiastic and, well... happy. Even if she is definitely more than a little off.
"In a relative sense in that really, it does not matter how much older you are exactly, like it seems to where I work - it is just "a bit older" or "a lot older" or, well, you get the idea."
"Presents? Hm. As far as I know, my culture does not give out gifts often on an arbitrary date - though I could be wrong. I rarely got any, at any rate." He smiles a little bit. Even if he had gotten gifts, he would have been far too wrapped up in 'doing stuff' to notice.
"Generally they're seen as a celebration of a person's existence, unless the Birthday happens to be close to a Holiday, and they decide to just merge the two out of laziness." Soma bitter? nooooo.
"I was born near Christmas, so my parents decided they rather buy a Birthmas gift, then a Christmas Gift and a Birthday gift - if they haven't forgotten about it during the Holiday Rush." He sat on the Nexus couch.
Caleb frowns. "That seems a bit unfair, I must say." Pausing to think, he then finally adds, "And what is the point of Christmas, anyway? A celebration of... well, I really do not understand the Christian religion. Can you explain?" He knows what it is, he knows kind of what it's about, but it doesn't make *sense*.
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Someone has something on her mind, with no damnable idea of how to say it.
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"A truly pointless custom, birthdays."
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"What do you mean, in a relative sense?"
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"In a relative sense in that really, it does not matter how much older you are exactly, like it seems to where I work - it is just "a bit older" or "a lot older" or, well, you get the idea."
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"Yeah. That makes sense. Kinda cool, actually, no stressing out about it. People always tell me I seem younger than I am, anyway."
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