"Alright. I think it's safe to talk now. Now, I used to be a dab hand at sailing, but I'm not sure there's any wind or current. We're going to be at the mercy of the Flood, and we don't [i]know[/i] they'll keep their bargain. Two things to worry about..." Lucien starts knotting a rescue line to the raft, looking for some driftwood for the other end of it. "Does anyone [i]not[/i] know how to swim?"

+++

[i]"Hate" (Rook, H8) was dead, shot in the back of the head through the chair... and Lucien hadn't thought twice about locking the door behind him, thought the old agent was just sleeping, and now the guards were breaking in. Had this been a setup? Had they known? Hate was still warm. Maybe-

The sealed brass tube is under the crackling logs in the fireplace. Who'd look for paper documents in a fireplace? Lucien's wearing gloves, thank God. He grabs it, then bolts for the one way out.

The door cracks. Guards are taking aim, but Lucien's already got shards of window against his arms. He's falling. Wasn't a chance to look if this was [i]definitely[/i] the wall that was flush to the moat. He doesn't open his eyes to make sure.

Bullets crack the surface of the water behind him, then sink like pebbles. He rips the dead-weight jacket off, and swims for the drawbridge. There's air under here. At least it's summer. If he breaks for it now, he's got a minute headstart.

... he dropped the brass tube with his jacket, didn't he? 

"Oh for fu-"

Down again into the black. Gloves, a riverbed, and only a vague idea of where to feel around...
[/i]

+++

That was a memory he might do without. 

"It might also be a good idea to write down what we're willing to sacrifice, just in case." He mutters. "Thoughts, memories. You don't have to show anyone, but we'll write it down and put it somewhere waterproof. We'll open them again at the other side, and if there's anything written we don't remember... we'll know what we gave up, at least."

Hesitation. Thoughtful frown. 

"Actually. We probably should share them, too. I think. Between ourselves. Unless we give up our memories of each other, I think that's... that'd probably for the best." Seasick smile. "Might be fun?"