[hr][hr] [centre][h1][color=coral]Lavena Keelia Ó Faoláin[/color][/h1] [img]https://im-01.gifer.com/LhdN.gif[/img] [b]Location:[/b] Flight BAW229; Los Angeles to London. [sup]Interacting With:Cyrus Saenz ([@YoshiSkittlez])[/sup][/centre] [hr][hr] She knew she was a goner. Knew it with every fiber of her being, as she tumbled towards the rift in the plane that was tearing apart by the force of whatever had happened, by the fall and whatever else was going on. Lavena cursed herself for a fool, she should have stayed in her seat- it would have cushioned her impact into the ocean… but then there was the chance she wouldn’t be able to get herself free. She had struggled so hard with just getting out before, without the added pressure of water. Either way, she was a goner and there was no use contemplating that. There was no way she could survive the fall, and even if she did, how injured would she be? How could she survive in the cold? Her mind worked frantically, simply to keep herself from falling into despair and utterly breaking down. She was going to die, and she’d face it with her head held high. [color=burlywood]”Hold on.”[/color] Someone’s voice, nearby, pierced the gloom that was steadily settling on her and she blinked, glancing about and seeing the old man she had falling into minutes before. Minutes? It suddenly felt like years. She stared at him in confusion, her mind rapidly trying to make sense of what was going on. [color=burlywood]”We’re going to ride this one out.”[/color] She blinked again, before her mind registered that he was trying to help her, and she grasped his hand. She knew it was hopeless. Knew that one good bump of turbulence- fuck, it was really just falling now- would jolt her way. Or the pressure would have the seat tearing away from the plane. The plane was going to tear apart, she knew that. That terrible grinding… She gripped tightly to the man and her case. And then her fingers, sweaty with fear began to lose their grip on the man, her hand slowly slipping from his until her fingers lost traction. She didn’t scream as she fell. She met the man’s gaze, knowing they were going to die. Yet grateful that he had tried to save her. She would die knowing that someone’s last act had been to try and keep her alive. And what more could she ask for? Oh. Right. Maybe to actually live? And then the scream came as she fell towards the ocean, tearing from her throat to end in a breathless cry as she plunged straight into the ocean, slamming just like she knew she would painfully against the water. She dropped like a stone, still holding her case, now tightly against her, wondering if she was being a fool for doing so. If she was dead, what use was it to her? But she just couldn’t let it go. It was her life. It meant too much to her. As she seemed to sink forever, Lavena tried to orientate herself, but the pressing closeness of the water, the blackness, the way it enveloped her and seemed to want to drag her down… the way her lungs were burning… Lavena knew that she would probably die. She kicked wildly, hoping that she was going the right way, even as she recognised the hopelessness of the situation. She was going to die here. Her eyes stung, whether from the saltwater or her own tears, she didn’t know. She wanted to close her eyes, and to just give up… Fear clutched her, squeezing her heart, and for a moment, she couldn’t tell the difference between then, and the past. A silent scream of fear and rage escaped her. She was not a helpless child. Not anymore. Bags floated around her, handbags and other such bags spilling their contents, and Lavena tried to ignore the shapes of bodies around her, her lungs burning, she wasn’t sure if her eyes were going black from lack of oxygen, or if it was just water pressing on her. She kicked wildly, and held onto her case with one arm, using the air to try and propel herself up. She crashed into… something that was sharp, she didn’t know what, causing a swallow cut to appear across her brow, blood leaking into the water, the salt stinging it painfully. She was nearly ready to give up, her body refusing to work properly, and her mouth opened against her will, water filling the space, forcing its way into her throat. She tried coughing, which just made things worse. Her eyes continued to fade into blackness, even as she kicked feebly. Her body reacted instinctively as she broke the surface, bringing in great gulps of air that probably made her look like a fish out of water, gasping, and then coughing violently, watery blood falling into her eyes. The coughs racked her, her body shaking with the force violently, until everything in her stomach came up, purging itself into the water, she cried weakly, reaching up to wipe her mouth, tears rolling down her face, a horrible taste in her mouth. She could hear others crying, calling out to people, but she couldn’t seem to get enough air, enough energy, to call back. It took all her strength to hold her case, and stay afloat. She was alive. And that was something to cherish. She reached up with her free hand to press it against the wound along her forehead, grimacing, as she looked around, [color=coral]”H-hello?”[/color] she called weakly. She could swear she heard a dog, and there was someone else screaming... Voices?