A lone figure was standing at the deck, near the front of the ship, leaning against the railings, jacket fluttering in the breeze, and arms crossed. He had an expression of solemn contemplation. At his side was a moon-shaped, rocky Pokemon, with a beak-like protrusion, and two beady red eyes, which had a look of bleak disinterest as he looked through the various individuals assembled there. And flitting around was a creature made entirely out of plasma, with arms similar to lightning bolts. Itazura, Dusza's must trusted ally and friend.
"I get the strangest feeling that I'm not going to enjoy this. At all." Dusza heard the voice inside of his head. Knowing that it came from his Lunatone, he replied. "Chandra, don't be so quick to judge." His voice was almost a whisper.
"I'm not judging so much as using prior knowledge," Chandra replied. "The day that there comes a single human that I have some degree of tolerance for is the day Mt. Chimney freezes over. That was a horrible trip, by the way."
Ignoring his companion's berating, he turned to face Itazura, who was sneaking up behind Chandra, before administering a Thundershock mid-rant, at a low enough intensity to not harm him, but high enough so that he would actually notice. Letting out a startled shout, the Lunatone turned to face his attacker, who was cackling madly at this point.
"The nerve..." Chandra mumbled to himself, before turning away and continuing his sifting.
As this happened, Dusza pondered to himself. He somewhat agreed with Chandra's first statement, but not for the same reason. He got the feeling that something bad was going to occur. This place seemed to be a brewing ground for trouble. He cared for the people here, and if something were indeed to happen, he promised that he would protect them with his life. But if he were to keep that up, he would get himself killed. Would this place ever know peace? Would he himself ever know peace?
And yet, Dusza's mannerisms and countenance appeared even more quiet and somber than usual. There were things that he still was hesitant to speak about, even here, but the thoughts, the memories, were gnawing away at his subconscious, trying to drive him mad. Some people say that the ghosts of their past eventually come back to haunt them. But with Dusza, his ghosts constantly haunt him, every day and every night.