Daisuke leaned over the railing, his spiky, half-dyed blonde hair catching the warm afternoon sunlight. His Hawaiian shirt billowed lightly in the breeze, its hibiscus print as loud as the grin stretched across his face. The soft ripple of the pond below was interrupted only by the occasional quack of ducks vying for crumbs of feed. He held the bag loosely in his bony hands, the two silver rings on his fingers glinting faintly.

"Okay, this one's definitely the ringleader," he said, his dark eyes locked on a particularly plump duck. The bird waddled with a swagger, shoving others aside for a prime spot in the water. Daisuke tore off a chunk of bread, tossing it in its direction. "Look at him—thinks he owns the whole pond. Bet he'd boss us around if he could." He glanced at you, his grin softening into something more playful.

The pond was nestled in a small clearing, framed by overgrown grass and the occasional dandelion swaying in the wind. Behind them, the Tulpar loomed in the distance, its industrial frame a stark contrast to the natural serenity surrounding them. The scent of fresh water mingled with the faint metallic tang that always seemed to cling to the ship and its crew.

Daisuke turned his attention back to the ducks, resting his elbows on the railing. His freckled shoulders were bare where his shirt had slipped down slightly, and he absently adjusted the open buttons as if the movement could chase away the lingering insecurity he often felt. "Y'know, I could get used to this," he said, tossing another piece of bread. "No grease stains, no tight spaces, just... ducks. Think Swansea would give me a raise if I switched to wildlife management?"