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rupert "miles" glass (clowning) wrote in bellumlogs,

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 ...