OOC- If anyone actually keeps up on our stories lol, the previouse parts that lead up to this one can be found here,l<a class="postlink-local" href="https://creativefreedomrpg.com/viewtopic.php?f=12&amp;t=40479">viewtopic.php?f=12&amp;t=40479</a>l( Fionarro) and here,l<a class="postlink-local" href="https://creativefreedomrpg.com/viewtopic.php?f=12&amp;t=40491&amp;p=174929#p174929">viewtopic.php?f=12&amp;t=40491&amp;p=174929#p174929</a>l( Izo )<br/><br/>Part 1- The new encounter (year,1915, off the coast of Italy.)<br/><br/>Fionarro, for a change, dreamt of good things. Tonight he dreamt of simply being on land, not being constantly rocked by the continuous waves of the seemingly never ending ocean.  He had rocking back and forth to the same damned rhythm for a few days now, its bothered him so much that the subject of his dreams was now, more often than not, simply standing on a flat.. unmoving surface.  So there he was, in a dream world, simply standing in a grassy field when suddenly a crack forms across the sky. It opens up into a large gaping hole, white light flooding out. “Fionarro.” A familiar voice, “Wake up now!” And just like that, Renzu had pulled me from my slumber.<br/>Although I was still half asleep I could tell it was morning time.I rolled over on my right side, my skin was dry and salty. I knew that this was because we finished our last ration of water yesterday and this sun was everything but forgiving. A beautiful orange paint flowed across the water and thats when I saw it. Shock ripped me from my tired state and threw me into full alertness. “Sweet Jesus.” I think out loud. “Yes.” Renzu says, his heavy Indian accent is only increased by happiness. “It’s a ship!” I shake my head, “It’s a vision.” I say. “It has to be.” He stares at me, “A vision from what? We just ate and we are not that dehydrated yet.” I consider this a moment. “Exposure from the sun.” I conclude, “We have been baking out on this dam slab of wood for a few days now.” He sighs and places a hand on my shoulder, “This is no vision Fionarro, look.” He points to the water currents from the large ship, continuously hitting and rocking our poor excuse for even a small child’s boat. We look at each other a moment, “There is no possible way that they haven’t seen any of the other survivors out here, or the countless pieces of wood.” I object. He stares at the wood below us thoughtfully a moment before replying, “You have a point.” He finally says, “But I’m going to shout anyways.” I look at him confused. My hand runs along my thick, long black hair as I ask, “But why?” He awkwardly smiles, “That is what one does when they fear that death is near.” He explains before shouting at the top of his exhausted lungs, “Down here! We are alive! We are here!” I shrug and join him, two voices are better than one and I sure as hell wasn’t going to sit around while a possible rescue floated by, whether they could be dangerous or not. “Hey!” I began to wave my arm back and forth.. and what do you know? We began to attract attention!