At the very least, Aoba wasn't left hanging alone for long. Not ten minutes after Declan boarded his other ship (another old clunky thing like the Mariner) a familiar blue-skinned and purple-haired man strolled up looking like he walked straight out of a comic-book idea of the post-apocalyptic magic space-future. His gear was a colorful mix of old and new, a little punk, a little Gandalf, and his hair was all pomp. Despite looking like a bit of a prick, the pretty young face was inviting enough, with dimples and sparkling lime eyes.

Definitely one Macklemore Journey.

"Oooh, is little boy blue already pining for tall, pale, and slightly less handsome than me?" Mac drawled, grinning with bright, perfect teeth. "Get your shit, buddy, we're gettin' some food. Nothing cures a case of the gloomies like some weird ass space sushi, and you're Japanese, right? Ready to live a little?"