So.. today was the day..

For most, the idea of being granted passage onto a luxurious, exclusive cruise was one to be enthusiastically coveted. What wasn't there to like about being passenger upon a charmingly grandiose yacht that had all the best entertainment, guests, foods, and all other manner of amenities? The opportunity to meet any number of famous or semi-famous figures, while soaking up a warm ray of sun, Iapapa-twist Martini in hand? And at the end they'd set foot onto an acclaimed, state-of-the-art battle resort?? Oh, the luxury - the excitement! But even so, Bat Standiford was a bit.. bothered.

There he stood, lined up with the others aside the yacht that would take them on their arduous- er, luxurious- voyage. Mind you, the treat that was such an event was not lost on Bat - in part, he was just as excited as anyone else to be able to take part in such a trip as this one. He was.. just a bit bothered that it had to be.. on a ship. On the water. Like.. off-shore. One might think it odd, a tropical-dish specialist with an aversion to the ocean. Bat had his reasons.. but so far he had managed to largely avoid the water. Over the years he has managed to temper, in small degree, his trepidation of the water, at least to the measure that he could endure a cruise, if the vessel was large enough. Sometimes though, the process of embarking was the worst - it was the anticipation of it all, you see.

Bat blinked a few times at the tugging he felt on his collar. His eyes refocused as he was pulled back from the thoughts of anxiety and distress that rolled through his head. His gaze shifted to his right shoulder, upon which perched a dark-furred Alolan Rattata, which gazed back at him with a concerned expression. Its eyes shifted to Bat's left hand, which was white-knuckle gripped around the handle of his luggage. He released his grip alongside a weary sigh and offered a small, appreciative smile as his companion proffered to him a small Leppa berry. Bat raised his gloved right hand to pluck the treat from the Pokémon's small hands before popping it into his mouth. He, momentarily, enjoyed the smooth, even flavors of the berry, closing his eyes and shutting out his nervousness for but a moment.

Before he quickly interrupted himself, and his eyes opened as his gaze snapped back to Rawst, the little Rattata. "Where'd you get this? Did you steal it??" He insisted, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice. The small Pokémon had a history of stealing food - something Bat has been trying desperately to get rid of since childhood. Rawst shook her head, chin held high as she pointed to Bat's bag, which was left opened and clearly tampered with. His gaze relaxed again, his pale visage seeming to lose a touch of its visible stress in general, at the distractions of his companion. He cast a small, sideways glance at the rodent before he began to stoop slightly and re-zip his baggage. "Mhm.. good." He stood again, running a hand through his silver hair as he looked around him.

He spotted a few vaguely familiar faces - at the very least he could recognize a few figures who had held, or at least officially earned, championship titles. Some of the other faces he saw throughout the most immediate crowd, which seemed to be more VIP-focused, he didn't recognize all too well - maybe he was just in the wrong circles. Alongside the championship-winners, there was a recently-arrived, rather glammy-looking individual who was clearly an actor of some kind, and a silver-haired dude in overalls, going on with his own devices. There were two faces that he could recognize right away by name - Vitesse Relais and Sophia Dolci. The former individual Bat recognized pretty quickly as a Pokéathlon athlete - and a good one at that. Bat had always enjoyed the spectacles achieved in the Pokéathlon competitions, and had always wondered if he'd've been capable of competing, if not for his sickliness. The one individual he most enjoyed seeing though was the renowned Sophie. It was a simple appeal - the passion through which she viewed and handled Pokémon was nothing less than uplifting. He could all but guarantee she felt the same way about Pokémon as he felt about food.

A small smile crept up into the corners of his mouth. It might seem a bit funny, but in situations like this, Bat felt.. a little out of his depth. And that was reason to smile, for him. He was surprisingly often surrounded by incredibly successful people - gym leaders, famous actors, Champions, and any other number of affluent personalities, all more prosperous than the last. But there was one thing they all held in common, no matter what - they all needed to eat. The feeling that he got from bringing a smile to someone's lips, no matter their station, was something that never waned. It was for that reason that he would endure a voyage such as the one that approached. It wasn't so bad, after all, if he could delve into his craft as a distraction.

Bat reached up and gave Rawst a friendly scratch on the shoulder, the small Pokémon chittering contently. The two of them listened to the rest of the group chatting amongst themselves. Bat's gaze shifted from one to another as each of them spoke, some of them annoyed at the Captain's tardiness, and others simply excited, or friendly. He took it all in, nodding as a couple of them introduced themselves to the group. He didn't even bat an eye at the loud, flamboyant nature of their fellow pink-clad passenger - he was, perhaps surprisingly, quite used to such displays. He did have to suppress a grin at the mention of Auggie's overalls, covering his mouth with a black-gloved hand.

He was dressed rather casually himself - a peach t-shirt with white flowers, topped by an open, black button-up shirt with the sleeves folded up to the elbow. He wore peach-colored tight-ankle cargo pants, with a pair of comfy black loafers. And of course, his signature black-lens round-rim glasses and a black glove on his right hand, the other tucked into his back pocket. It wasn't long that they dwelled on fashion though, and Bat was grateful to have Andre refresh his memory on the name of one of the present champions. He nodded slowly, wondering to himself how well the lot of them would get along. Hopefully well enough.

Syl had his own theory on what could've happened to the Captain - a though that Bat grimaced at, be it a joke or not. He nervously ran his hand through his hair again. "I'm-" He started once there was break in the dialogue, being interrupted by himself as he coughed into a gloved fist. "-sure the Captain is fine.." He soothed, his brief set of coughs fading away quickly. "Just a little hiccup along the way, assumably.." He spoke, an assuring tone creeping into his voice, which itself was neither soft nor rough. He then remained silent for a moment, before he took the opportunity to address himself as well.

"Aha, my name is Bat Standifur." He stated, offering a friendly smile to the group. He didn't expect any of them to know him by name, but they might -- in culinary circles he was quite popular, but that wasn't saying much for the grand scheme of things.