InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "mana mana"

Bellum Letale Tempus (bellum_tempus) wrote in bellumlogs,
@ 2010-06-22 10:37:00

Entry tags:

plot: delta, plot: tempus

Who: Miles, Shane, Jasper, Aiden, Lone, Deirdre, Joss, and Anya. Phew!
What: Jailbreak.
Where: The jail.
When: Day 3, early morning.
Warnings: TBA
Notes: You can now feel free to get going on your threads. You can find more information in the plot post!

The people in the cells around the Bellum tenants had thinned during the day and swelled again at night, many coming in dressed in evening wear as they had, though more of them were intoxicated. The police were non-responsive to inquiries about how long it would be before they were charged.

Then three new men were thrown into the men's holding cell in the early hours of the morning on the third day of their forced visit to the 20's. Dawn was a short ways off on the morning of February 14, 1929, and a massacre that would make history had yet to happen. Not long off, though, not long at all.

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	ARRESTS AND JAILBREAK bellum_tempus 2010-06-22 04:00 pm UTC (link)
	[This thread is for the MEN ONLY. The three characters being arrested can be thrown into the cell, and then a plan for escape can be enacted.] (Reply to this) (Thread)

wolfishane
2010-06-22 04:13 pm UTC (link)

Shane hadn't expected to be arrested, but when did anyone expect an arrest?

The day after the raid had been spent mostly just trying to cover necessities. He'd bought clothes, found a newspaper, and eaten the cheapest food he could find. Then he'd spent the day walking through the city, marking how changed it was, looking for something he couldn't quite identify.

Maybe it was the aimless way he was wandering back to the hotel late at night that caught the attention of a police officer on the beat, or maybe the officer was just in a poor mood. Either way, he found himself being wrestled into a squad car and driven to the police station. He kept quiet, and waited for an opportunity to escape.

None came. When they reached the police station, he managed to get a bite on an officer with sharp teeth, and got knocked heavily over the back of the head with a club for his efforts. Dazed, he was dragged most of the rest of the way to the cell, and thrown in with the others, thrown to the floor to get his bearings again. Two other men were led in ahead of him, and then the door slammed shut.

Great.

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sneakingaround
2010-06-22 04:42 pm UTC (link)

His second day had been spent attempting to figure out everything there was about this situation. After booking a hotel room under the name "Michael Scott" - he had seen it on the internet once and it was the first name that came to mind when asked for one - he had spent the night restlessly, awake with his and Griffin's thoughts. During the day, he wandered, attempting to familiarize himself with the roads of Chicago. He spotted shops that might prove easily broken into, and homes that may yield a decent gain should he need to infiltrate them. All the while, he and Griffin spoke almost amiably. He had given up on finding Isobel, convincing himself that she had found somebody to stay with that would take care of her.

His second night in Chicago was a late one. Creeping the streets, he had targeted a candy store that he had seen booming with business earlier that day. He had turned invisible, setting his clothes down in a heap before jimmying the window open and sneaking inside. After taking half of the cash in the store, he slipped out and gingerly closed the window. Looking over his shoulder the entire time, he crouched behind a bench and got dressed, shivering, before turning visible once again and strolling away.

What he hadn’t counted on was an officer passing the candy shop while he was in mid-robbery and returning with two of his friends for an old-fashioned beatdown. He had gotten not thirty feet when a group of three cops rounded the corner, shouting at him to stop. Griffin screamed at him to run, and run he did. He dashed through the snow, hoping to turn a corner with enough time to turn invisible once more. However, the cops were much faster than the out-of-shape Archer, and they soon overtook him.

And so that’s how he ended up in a line with two other men, a few scrapes on his face from where the officers had hit him when he pathetically tried to fight back. He was still angry, face livid and he was far from cooperative as he was ushered into the cell. “I’ve said I was innocent!” he barked as he was shoved inside, turning to snarl at the officers controlling them. “This is no way to run law enforcement!” he barked, face brilliant red as he slammed his bony hands into the bars that imprisoned him. “You are driving this city into the ground with your frivolous arrests and unnecessary shows of force!” For that, his fingers received a strong rap with a club.

He hissed, recoiling. “Ouch!” he squeaked, sticking two of his knuckles into his mouth and sucking on them like a child. This was horrible. He had to get out of there.

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arcere
2010-06-22 06:39 pm UTC (link)

Once he woke up and discovered that they had not, in fact, magically teleported back to the proper time, Aiden spent the day sulking and pacing in the cell - or as much as he could. The greater part was spent just sulking and having mental conversations with Van Helsing on subjects he really had no desire to get anyone else's opinions on. It was otherwise fairly quiet, if you ignored the anger coming from the other men and women, the yelling at the guards, the yelling coming from the guards ... everything else, various and sundry sounds that they were.

Throughout the time he'd been there, people had come in but none had left. None of the people that had arrived so far had been familiar, and then yet more men were dragged in and dumped, he hardly paid attention. Until one of them hit the floor and he looked over on instinct and recognized the look of him.

"Shane?"

So they weren't alone. Good or bad, at least they weren't the only handful of people suffering in this hellhole of a place. He shifted over to help pull the man to his feet, realizing that if they had been out there and were now in here, the chances of them getting any help were growing slimmer by the hour.

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wolfalone
2010-06-22 09:19 pm UTC (link)

Lone entirely ignored the infuriated and noisy Archer, and crouched by Shane's other side to assist Aiden in righting him. "I am so glad to have a packmate present," Lone said, in heavy tones of sarcasm that a wolf probably would have foregone. "It is not as if it would have been very handy if you had been outside when I tried to leave." Being trapped in the cage for so long had made him testy. He smelled the human blood from on Shane and wrinkled his nose, giving the younger man an unmistakable glare, though he didn't say anything out loud that could be interpreted as chastisement on the subject.

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clowning
2010-06-22 10:41 pm UTC (link)

Ah, how wondrous it would have been to procure for himself all the fantastical things with which his imagination had been thrilling itself with continually. There ever so many investments to take full advantage of in such a desperate, ravenous time! He would have been a rich man, surely. However, either true or unreal, the security of misdeeds were always delicate as cobwebs and fleeting as mist.

Instead, he was arrested in such a swift and unjust manner, that it would pain him to recall it just now. Oh! How he hated to be caged! That free spirit! That swindler, that maverick! A wanted outlaw without his golden guns. An exotic butterfly without brilliant color. And just when he was beginning to enjoy this unfortunate situation.

"Nobody knoooows... de trouble I seeeee." a theatrically, deliberately, and poignant voice resonated within the jail. It sang sadly and honestly, though its undertone to the clever-minded was somehow transparently dramatic. It was mostly for effect that Miles did anything--he was all about smoke and mirrors--and this occasion being one of them, he did not cheapen himself by adopting the reality thrust upon him so suddenly. No. He was uncovering moments, not creating them. Albert Einstein would agree.

"Nooobody knows, but roboooots..." yes, robots. He had mentioned this specifically for one key reason; to alert anybody else from his time who might be in here, that he was in here with them. As well, to confuse the officers who less than tenderly did and with an almost melodic smile, lock him away and just basically throw his key!

He was almost positive that the other prisoners were too caught up on conversing, that or blaming themselves or others, to really catch his drift. But ...

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wolfishane
2010-06-23 01:29 am UTC (link)

He let Aiden help him to his feet with a brief, mumbled thanks. There was blood on his teeth and tongue, but it could be assumed to be from the sharp knock he'd taken to the back of his head, his teeth already gone blunt, appearing as normal as could be.

He shot Lone a look. He'd not met him in person (in person, that was, as a human) but it wouldn't have taken the mention of packmates to recognize him. His scent was familiar in the close confines of the cell, as was the way he held himself. "I didn't plan on getting arrested," he said. "And I don't plan on sticking around."

He didn't recognize the man shouting at the officers, but he seemed vaguely familiar. The man in the corner was not, though the fact that he was singing about...robots...seemed to imply that he was one of them. If a little unhinged.

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arcere
2010-06-23 02:22 am UTC (link)

As he helped Shane up, the third man's singing drew Aiden's attention - ah. Yes. Anya's other friend, the one who'd taken the back exit. So he'd gotten away for a little while but in the end, everything had ended up the same. Thus, not feeling too regretful, he stepped away when Lone and Shane spoke. Packmates ... great.

"No? Then how do you suggest we get out?" It was only through effort and Van Helsing that he avoided mentioning just how successfully Shane had entered the cell. If he is so dedicated, then perhaps it is he who will lead us out of here. Do not doubt him completely just because you and I have made no ground. Aiden grit his teeth against the chiding and glowered at a distant wall, willing it to explode through force of will.

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clowning
2010-06-23 03:53 am UTC (link)

The cognitive wheels were a'turnin'--creaky, unsure of themselves, catching, a bit rusty, but they were nevertheless a'turnin' and becoming more and more well lubricated by the gnashing of his slippery creativity. How long had it been since he'd found himself lodged in any sort of dilemma requiring that he use the cunning of his mind? Oh, only every night, really... and Miles, as he stared beyond the congregation of those he currently shared a cell with, could spot the guards who so without a care, held the jingling, tinkling keys fast and looped through their belts. They were all behind a locked door, and every locked door had a key.

Wait, hadn't he seen that other man earlier? Yes, he had. However, he wasn't altogether too sure about his acting ability. The other people in the room didn't seem like actors either, but people are capable of great feats when under pressure. He examined them all closely and quietly; no feature, no mannerism, no tone was left unturned. He could tell they needed to get out of here. Oh yes, indeed. They all wanted to leave. They all wanted the very same thing.

And he did so love helping those in need. His eyes practically glittered in the dark.

Hm, but a magician is never really trapped, is he? He wasn't pumping himself full of sunshine dust and frilly expectations. He knew well what he was capable of, and what he might be able to get away with, if only the participation of the others could get underway. He also knew that this was a risk that could get him all sorts of shades of dead.

"Ahem. Listen here."

He examined, then, all his cell mates. They probably all thought he was some useless quack--a thing he strived for people to believe of him, for who ever expects the clown to be so clever?--he needed them to create a diversion for his plan. Plan, he had a few already. Which one should he choose?

"I can get the keys..." he'd paused, allowing that declaration to seep into the silence like a stain.

"... but I'll need a volunteer."