Prizzy Kriyze
Multiple Stab Wounds
</Gavin Baudelaire/>
There wasn't as much as a hint of shame in Gavin when he returned Morrigan's wink and replied "Right, it's your funeral." Not that Gavin ever seemed to be ashamed of anything. He was too much of an anarchist for that, fuck the establishment and everything. This particular type of not giving a shit lead to him hitting on girl's like it went out of style, but then again, he felt he should respect Morrigan more than that. He smiled at her before he turned his head back to the group.He wrinkled his nose at Avalon, then nodded towards Vaughn. "We're not even overcomplicating it, girl. We're just thinking of more fool-proof alternatives." Vaughn had had a pretty good idea going there, but Avalon was as stubborn as ever. Without giving them a chance to talk her down she started getting ready to commence in her idea. "One." Gavin, who was stood farther out than most of the group, was positioned so that he suddenly noticed something moving behind the rest of the group. Ian.
"Uh-" Gavin uttered, before cutting himself short when Ian raised a finger towards his lips. Well, him being here they don't even need a plan, and if he scares the shit out of Avalon then double points man. She had already started counting, and was at "Two." when Ian passed him and crept closer behind her. Gavin raised the bottle to his lips once more, then got a heavy feeling of unease as he watched the act. Like the feeling when you've thrown a dart and you know it's going to miss the second you let it go. Something was going to go wrong.
"Uhm!"
As if something dangerous had crept up on her, Avalon suddenly span and managed to slap the piece of wood straight across Ian's face quite violently. Ian took a step back, but didn't have enough space to do so. His body twisted over the edge of the dock, and he plummeted into the dark waters without a chance of regaining balance.
The bottle of beer was already in the grips of gravity and headed for the ground. Normally Gavin would've laughed aloud at the spectacle, then gone to help his friend. Normally he would've let the rest of the group fend for themselves. Normally, yes, but he didn't normally feel like the world was about to end. She got him hard, he's hydrophobic, that splash landing looked bad. Did he even know how to swim? Gavin wasn't sure he'd seen Ian ever swim before.
Inexplicably caught in this anxious mood, Gavin had quickly let his bottle drop and dashed after Ian. The big wave of water that followed his descent showered over the group, and blinded him so that he accidentally bumped into Avalon and and nearly lost his balance. He stumbled and half fell, half dove after Ian. Far behind, on the dock, he could hear his bottle smash against some old rusted nail, before everything was swallowed by the beat against his eardrums. It sounded kind of like a choir of broken cymbals and out-of-tune bass guitars, and then it went quiet.
He opened his eyes to the darkness that laid out before him, and immediately started diving deeper. He could swore that he saw the outline of Ian down there, and kicked off hard just to reach out and catch nothing. For a minute he paused and looked around. The same feeling from earlier etched itself into his spine, because he couldn't spot anything. The sand bottom seemed to be missing, the lunar rays from above also gone. But he kept going down, down, down. He needed to get Ian, where the hell could've he gone off to?
It got darker. Ian? His arms were hurting from the exertion, but his lungs were worse. And the darkness seemed cold. Or was it the water? Hurt. Where was Ian? He should've taken a deeper breath- cold. So cold. The sound of water moving when he forced his arms forward. Dark. Heart felt like exploding. Fingers shaking.
There was a silhouette again. Gavin reached out for it again, but he couldn't see his arm anymore. Too dark. Or maybe his eyes weren't open anymore.
Cold.