“June 24th! A day that shall be emblazoned eternally in all nautical history, or dare I say-- all human history!” bellowed the bubbly presenter over the growing bustle around her. “The day that the Atlantis shall embark on the first ever transglobal voyage! Freeing her hand from the sandwich of expectant entrepids, she gestured towards the towering cruise dominating the horizon and continued, “This beautiful behemoth shares more in common with a buoyant Paris than any of the paltry ships out on the waves today, and the mile long line of anxious passengers is starkly reminiscent of the legendary Ark! Pivoting back toward the camera, the presenter was caught by surprise by a man who seemed to walk so casually between her and the crowd. The reporter, after a period in a daze, scrambled toward him stammered out, “Mr. Baron, would you please be so kind as to give us an interview?”
	Robert Baron, the multi-billionaire entrepreneur who sat comfortably in his mid thrities, who on a whim decided to expend a vast sum of his own fortune to become the sole proprietor of the largest ship known to man, the Atlantis. He turned around swiftly, as if he had foreknowledge that he would have been approached, and looked toward the reporter. Despite being surrounded by the tens of thousands of gathered, he seemed to have an ample amount of space to himself, a barrier which excluded all but himself. He wore a plain pecan suit jacket that stopped just above his waist. Under it was a partially visible, simple white dress shirt juxtaposed with a crimson tie. His white slacks casually clung to his form before reaching down to his distinctly polished, black moccasins. He had a heavy brow, which were held over eyes that looked on the world with a disappointed smugness. His mouth formed a thin line with a dutifully cared for chevron moustache just above it. He stood in a way that was quite picturesque, in the sense that he seemed to always be posing for some clandestine picture taken without his knowledge.
“Why no, what would you like to know?” He said after a short pause, although the words did not sound like his own. The reporter rattled down the typical lines of questions those like him are asked, “How did you acquire your fortune?”, “How do you choose where to devote your time and money?”, but he answered them all the same as if he had been asked that for the very first time. He held a light smirk on his lips while he answered yet his eyes did not smile whenever his mouth did. Finally the reporter came to her most anticipated question, “We’ve had reports that just prior to its first departure, you’ve taken a monumental insurance policy out on the Atlantis? Can you confirm if that's true?”
He opened his mouth to speak, his wholly cool demeanor transforming to that of irritation, but he was drowned out by the blaring horns of the Atlantis, signalling its coming departure. The flare that was in his eyes quickly disappeared, and his prior smirk returned, “I’d love to keep talking” he began, “but that seems to be my cue. Give your paper my regards.” And like water he flowed through the crowd, coming to his own personal entrance to the Atlantis, and ascended its many steps, leaving the reporter in a stunned state of anti-climax, not even having enough energy to correct him before he had disappeared.
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