[center][h3]DUSTIN[/h3][/center]

	Soon enough, everyone was here, and it wasn’t quiet at all. Dustin made a mental note to find that smoking room as soon as they had finished whatever business they had been called for in here. 
	As he took the drink from tattooed girl, he could help but notice something in her eyes as she passed the drink. He wasn’t sure what it was. Recognition?[i] Sadness?[/i]
	She looked away before Dustin could figure it out, and it soon passed his mind. The living room felt much smaller when it was this occupied. He tried listening in on the transference of names, but it soon became too much.
	Another girl with tattoos came in; this one with shorter hair. She introduced herself as Elvira. [i]Or was it Olivia? Wait, black haired girl was Emily. No, Emma? And the military guy was Gabe? Or Gabanre? [/i]
	[i]Shit. [/i]
	The one doll-faced girl marched her way over to the bar with the other women. Made perfect sense. Dustin figured she’d say her name but she was too far out of earshot to really hear it. 
	By the time the British man had walked in (Dustin got his name clearly: Richard. Easy enough with an accent like his), Dustin was about done with the name-questioning. He took the opportunity to scoot near the empty void where doll-face was sitting in order to gain some breathing room from long-hair and military-man. 
	“It’s Dustin,” he said, short.  
	[i]At least he’s comfortable[/i], he thought. 
	A part of him wanted to march over to the bar and get another drink. Both the buzz in his head and a drink in his hand gave him a vague reminder that he might be overdoing it. Regardless, he took another drag from the Marlboro and waited it out. Now that all eight passengers had made it aboard, it was only a matter of time before this Christopher Maddox finally revealed himself. And the sooner he did, the sooner Dustin could leave this room. 

[center][h3]JOHN[/h3][/center]	

	Watching through one of the many secret openings within the ship, John watched the passengers arrive one-by-one. 
	Each had been easily memorized by John in the days before. A host of information and photos are taken of each passenger weeks before they ever step foot on the ship. Part of it is safety. Part of it is protocol. Part of it is wanting to know what people you’re sharing space with. 
	This crop was especially interesting. Many social extremes. Straight-edges. Outcasts. Not like before. Before there was less diversity; more normality. It made for easy sailing, usually. Sometimes, however, it didn’t. Provided this crop doesn’t decide to off each other, it shouldn’t be too hard.
	It was too bad about last time though. The blood took weeks to clean up. 
	“Get Doe,” Maddox said to John’s right, looking through a separate peephole. “Haddock’s arrived. That’s the last of them.”
	Nodding, John moved out, climbing up a set of stairs to the upper floors, where Doe had been waiting. John could see his massive figure from half of the ship’s length, reading and waiting. 
	“Hoist anchor,” John said to his brother. “I’ll get the engines running.”
	Doe nodded, and immediately began the process of turning on the crank and lifting the multi-ton anchor from the ground. 
	John, however, marched off, making his way around Deck Two’s promenade and walking off the boat. He undid the ship’s rope ties and walked back on board, making sure to lift the walkway. They were officially separated from land. Flipping a switch alongside the deck, the [i]Crescenzo[/i] slowly began it’s journey. 
	Looking down into the sea, John could see the swirling clouds of dust and foam as the side-propellers slowly pulled the boat from shore. Satisfied, he made his way around and up, climbing the passenger staircases to Deck Four, opening the door and taking control of the ship. After a moment, Doe came up as well, wordlessly taking the co-captain’s chair. 
	“I hate missing orientation,” John said aloud to his brother. “I like seeing the looks on their faces when it dawns on them.”
	Doe gave a look to John. [i]What dawns on them?[/i] The face asked without moving.
	“What they signed up for,” he responded to the look. “That the only thing they’ll be seeing for years is nothing but open waters.”
	
	[center][h3]MADDOX[/h3][/center]

	The vibration of the ship’s hull was indication enough that departure had gone as schedule. Making sure to exit via a door out of view, Maddox left the inner workings of the ship and came out somewhere near Deck One’s bathroom. Closing and locking the false door behind him, Maddox marched his way through the stateroom hallways, through the dining room, and into the living room, where his eight passengers were waiting. 
	[i]This might just be my favorite moment[/i], Maddox thought to himself, seeing eyes across the room lock onto his. 
	[i]Sure, the voyage is tough. The destinations are as wild and secretive as my passengers themselves. But this moment; looking across the room at eight strangers, not knowing what is to come of them. Not knowing who’ll fight who, and who’ll fuck who. Not knowing friend from enemy. Only knowing names and information. This moment, with infinite possibilities and nothing but time? This is my favorite moment. [/i]
	“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Maddox called out, standing in the space near the bar and the couches with arms wide open, in plain view of all within the room. His standard, BBC-style received pronunciation echoed through the walls of this ship. 
	“Welcome to the [i]Crescenzo[/i]! If you’ll just take a moment to get comfortable, I have a few words for you all.”