[ Lavi is whatever you tell him to be, if it suits him, so long as you never ask him to be himself. But this, of course, he does not offer readily, rubbing at the back of his neck and waving a hand haphazardly by way of explanation rather than saying anything useful.

For once, it's not any particular bias against Crowley's blood that drives this motivation, but a more universal form of prejudice: if you mess up his ship, you clean it up and pay for the repairs. Noah is, by and large, one of his favorite things in this world. Other humans aren't. The hierarchy system is simple this way.

Still, he offers a little wider of a smile with the reassurances and bow of his head, happy to dodge the rest of the conversation--

"Wait." ]

Eh?

[ It couldn't be that easy, could it? Looking at Crowley's discarded bag, he fixes the older man with a slightly pained smile, as if imagining the hours of pestering and questions that the other's demeanor seem to suggest will follow, and then sighs, waving him on. ]

Yeah, sure. It's not anything exciting, but I guess if you've never seen take off, it could be kinda cool?

[ Shoulders bowed slightly in defeat, Lavi continues down the hallway to the cockpit--there are four seats available, but evidently most of them have been turned into a spare place for Lavi to store his manuscripts. The seat adjacent to the pilot's, at least, has the least amount of papers and looks reasonably accommodating to another human. Slipping into the pilot's seat himself, he mutters briefly and overlooks the control panel. ]

Noah, we got clearance yet?

[ "Yes, Lavi," a smooth, mildly feminine voice replies overhead, "Who is our guest today?" ]

This is Crow. Crow, meet Noah. Noah, Crow. [ He points at the harness hanging off the chair, clearly not used in any recent times and adjusted for a shorter individual. ] You might wanna strap in if you're gonna stay and watch take off.