InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Knight to E5"

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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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."

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	wolfishane 2010-06-23 04:07 am UTC (link)
	Why the hell not? It wasn't as if he had anything to lose, and he had every intention of getting out of the jail cell as soon as humanly possible. If the unhinged guy had a plan, it was worth a shot. "I'll volunteer," he said, an indirect answer to Aiden's question and clear scorn. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

arcere
2010-06-23 04:20 am UTC (link)

Aiden was instantly wary of trusting a man who spoke in corkscrews and didn't seem entirely attached to the world, but at the moment, if there was no other way out, he didn't really find himself with any choice. Fortunately, Shane volunteered, so if anything went wrong at least it wouldn't be his own neck on the chopping block.

Though, frankly, he didn't want anybody to wind up dead, because that would present all sorts of new problems. And besides, if he showed up back in the building saying someone had died ...

And your guilt would become even greater, mused Van Helsing, entirely unwanted. You know him. You are his friend - do not think so low of what may happen. With a scowl and what he hoped was the equivalent of a mental middle finger, Aiden shifted away so that Shane and the other man could do whatever it was they intended to do to get them out of here.

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clowning
2010-06-23 05:08 am UTC (link)

"I have a few plans and all of them have the potential to work if the others end up impossible. Unfortunately, not all of them will keep us out of trouble. The first plan is such an obvious routine, that it's bound to work. The most obvious is always the least obvious. Everyone falls for it. You." he'd motioned to Shane from where he sat, although as he did he rose up to stance--his knees cracking, his eek, sternum cracking, ouch--"You need to shout for help while I fake a heart attack."

He'd paused. Did they need his resume?

"I am an expert at sleight of hand. I was raised with the top magicians of each of their respective fields of study. If I can't get the keys from the guard who comes to check on me, then something is very wrong with this ... bizzaro world we've all been sucked into."

Not to mention, you've got me.
I'm deft at making haste.
After all, it's just a silly key!
They'll catch on soon, no time to waste!

Clearing his throat, he took a few steps forward into the dim light. "Are you ready?"

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wolfishane
2010-06-23 05:18 am UTC (link)

He raised an eyebrow when Miles gave his resume. His credentials could be an exaggeration, but his plan was better than nothing. And if he wasn't able to get the key by his 'sleight of hand', they could always incapacitate the guard by other means. It would do.

"Ready," he said. He backed a step towards the bars, glancing throughout the cell. The men around them either looked too bored or drunk to really make trouble. No one seemed to be itching for a fight at this time of night, which was a blessing.

As soon as Miles went down, he started to shout. His tone had the right amount of panic for a man trapped in a cell with someone who might keel over in front of him. "Help! Christ, get in here, he's dying!"

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arcere
2010-06-23 05:33 am UTC (link)

Faking a heart attack.

How he avoided laughing outright was a mystery, but Aiden grit his teeth and clamped his jaw and stood, unbelieving, as the plan was laid out right in front of them. It was as standard as faking death, as luring the guard in by hiding behind the door with the chamber pot over your head, waiting to strike! Did he actually think it was going to work? The sense in using the most obvious to be the least obvious wasn't completely lost on Aiden, but he still didn't want to be anywhere near either of them if the plan suddenly went due south.

And so when it went off he backed up with the others, as if unsure and wary of what to do - save a dying man and risk the wrath of a guard, or be a bystander and simply Not Get Involved? - but his muscles, already irritable from being still for so long, tense and ready to run if this was actually successful.

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sneakingaround
2010-06-23 06:26 am UTC (link)

While the others spoke, Archer was busy prowling like a caged animal. He didn't like this. He didn't like being apprehended in the night and thrown into a cell. He didn't like having no idea how he had gotten into this place, or why he was there. The facts were so blurry, so shifty, that he had no idea what he could trust and what he should ignore.

"Stop raging, boy," Griffin said tiredly. "Though you have no right to be angry. You were sloppy."

"I was perfect," Archer spat, raking his fingers through his hair. "They were unreasonable."

He heard the others beginning to talk, but largely ignored them until Griffin took notice. "Their syntax closely resembles yours, boy. Do you know them?"

Archer turned to the men who seemed to be organizing, eyes widening slightly. "No. But I know where they came from." Taking a slight step towards them, he decided to remain quiet as the strange one suggested faking a heart attack. He almost laughed. How infantile. He could turn invisible and sneak out of the cell, and none of them would notice. However, he would be naked, and he knew how cold it was outside.

So he stayed back, watching the other men as they enacted their macabre little play. He couldn't believe that he was in this dismal situation.

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clowning
2010-06-23 06:35 am UTC (link)

Well, it seemed no one had a better idea and that, as ever, genius thrived on pandemonium.

As pandemonium was scheduled to ensue, Miles grasped his left shoulder and made the most wickedly, brilliantly pained face, that it was a good thing they'd all been informed beforehand of his deceptive little act. He was actually quite a damned good actor; aware of his posture, the stiffness of his muscles, and that when he held his breath a bit too long, why, the veins of his usually smooth forehead protruded in such a way as to pronounce the strain and burden upon his poor, suffering body. Oh! "He-..hee...lllp.." he'd muttered lowly, sputtering, attempting to grab at the air with his good arm, as if the hand of 'God' might be leading him up to the Heaven opened for him, or pointing him toward the Hell growing closer.

"WHAT OF IT?" one of the curly haired guards had shouted, but of course, he'd stood up not wanting to lose his job, or have to clean up after the lost bowels of a dying man. Either way a loss was not what he'd like at this hour, and thus he'd indicated to his other officer with a dismissive but pertinent sweeping of his hand to come hither and assist. The lanky man for however lean to accompany him was much at the ready without having to be told. "Comin'!"

In the interim, when the guards began to rush over, Miles was sure to throw a look at Shane. And a wink. His plan was not apparent--it was to steal the keys of one of the guards, and let them go back into their places, after of course his miraculous discovery. The wink had a 'trust me' behind it, as he rolled over just as the guards fumbled for the keys and barged in. Barging in of course with a healthy dose of predictable profanity and sighing. How DARE they make them do their jobs?

"Now what's goin' on here, hm? Heart attack, ya say?"

"Looks like, boss."

"I...I need my med...medi--cine." Miles' eyes rolled into the back of his head and he convulsed, frothing only momentarily, before the fit resolved with a hideous sounding wheeze.

"Where's his medicine?!" Curly bellowed. He didn't care about no stupid little prick with a fedora and a faint heart!

"Who's got the medicine? You seen it!?" the officer inquired to Shane as if he were somehow responsible, narrowing his eyes and kneeling beside Miles. "Tell us where your medicine is so's we can help?" surprisingly, the coaxing voice was gentle and genuinely concerned. He held Miles' neck--that's what you're supposed to do, right? It'd been a long time since he'd read his medical books.

Miles pointed toward where he once sat. A bottle of what seemed to be cough medicine waited to be claimed.

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wolfishane
2010-06-23 06:42 am UTC (link)

Shane backed away as the guards entered the room, watching Miles' impressive display of over-the-top but believable dying athletics. Not bad at all. The wink threw it over the edge, but the guards didn't notice, and so far, they seemed to be buying his story without question. Good.

He flinched when the guard turned on him, giving the other man the impression that his position of authority remained unquestioned and feared. He moved to take the 'medicine' (god only knew what it actually was) from where he'd been sitting, and handed it to him. "Here. Is this what you're looking for?"

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arcere
2010-06-23 06:51 am UTC (link)

The sudden uproar was enough to startle Aiden into believing that maybe this was real, but only for a few brief seconds. Van Helsing watched through his eyes with interest at the act, and pondered briefly on the matters of the sane versus the insane, which Aiden continued to ignore. He watched Shane and the guards; he didn't look at the man on the floor, or the man who had been pacing angrily, or Lone. The guards were more dangerous; Shane was moving; he didn't want to look at the wrong person or in the wrong direction and throw the whole thing to hell.

Because, against most of the odds, it was working. He may have doubted it (and still did), but since things were running smoothly enough, he wasn't about to be responsible for fucking it all up. Aiden kept his mouth shut and did what the others in the cell did, watching one man and then another, glancing around warily as if afraid for the next decisive moment.

(And briefly wondered, where did that bottle come from?)

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sneakingaround
2010-06-23 06:57 am UTC (link)

Oh, cute. They were putting on a play. Archer didn't even bother to hide the disgust in his face as the guards arrived. Though he wasn't normally a violent man, he felt the sudden urge to beat them all soundly as they entered the cell. "Quiet down," Griffin cautioned. "Don't let your rage get the best of you, boy."

"Hypocrite," Archer grumbled back. "You lose your mind."

Griffin was silent for a white-hot moment. "They said that."

"Well, they were right." He wasn't sure why he was doing this. He was irritated. And tired. His pride had been bruised. His face had been hit. He didn't know what he was doing in this place, and so he was picking fights over nothing. At least it was with the voice in his head and not the other men in the cell.

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clowning
2010-06-23 07:11 am UTC (link)

Oh, it all was rather silly in his imagination... do they know my name?

Miles had, while everyone was occupied glancing over to the cough medicine, gotten the keys. It wasn't as simple as he thought it would be (those who know of sleight of hand as a hobby or trade could relate perhaps to a more tricky clip mechanism.) but it wasn't only Miles who was behind the smoke and mirrors of these improvisations. No. His trickery and 'magic' perhaps had a dash of the mysterious, a sprinkle of the unknown, and the helping of a fable who can make people see, even hear what they want to.

The keys themselves were in Miles' pocket now, which he'd wrapped in cloth by convulsing again to disguise the jingling whilst he twitched to lay uneasily upon the side they were. This was of course to secure their position. If one were so inclined to observe, there still looked to be a set of keys very much dangling still on the belt of the officer who was kind enough to hold Miles' head up. There's a sucker born every minute.

A pair of keys he'd found in the back of the cell, likely a freed prisoners of earlier. Any keys would do.

"Gimme that!" he'd demanded, though not crudely, as he swiped the medicine out of Shane's hand and briefly inspected it. What was this? Syrup? He'd never seen this kinda medicine before.

"What's that? Looks like goop! Hurry up'n feed it to'em so's I can go back to readin' my nude--my cartoons..." Curly said, his guilty eyes sweeping the floor to gather the remains of his dignity.

Loosening the cap, the guard brought the medicine up to the quivering, pursing mouth of the eager-to-get-better Miles. Who still twitched, though through the hard obstacle of his atrophy, managed to swallow much of the cough syrup. Some of which, spilt onto the floor in a purple swell.

Quiet. Uproarious silence. Miles' bated breath and aching body slowly, but surely began to subside its shuddering. He looked up to the guard, his brow all knotted and dotted by sequins of sweat and whispered with all seriousness, and with an entirely hoarse voice. "Thank you. You saved me... you... thank you..." he even took it a step farther and touched the top of his hand. Patting it shakily.

"ALL RIGHT LADIES BREAK IT UP. Back to work!" Curly rolled his eyes and stood aside the door awaiting his partner.

"You're welcome." the other officer had said, nodding, and smiling with a content smile that only those who saved a life can truly smile. He joined his partner and they locked up the cell. The men would probably think he hadn't gotten the keys at all? The officers went back to their stations without hesitation, but watched with the calculation of hawks. Though, with how far away they were, they likely wouldn't hear the coming whispers.

So, Miles rolled over onto his back and crossed his legs, reclining his head upon his upraised hands. He was grinning.

"That was the easy part."

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wolfishane
2010-06-23 07:22 am UTC (link)

Shane watched the show with apparent concern until the officers finally left. He glanced up at Lone, then over at Aiden, who looked tense. Archer looked pissed about something, but considering that he hadn't really said anything since he'd screamed at the officers earlier, he couldn't be sure why.

Are you done relaxing in the cage yet, letting lunatics do your work for you?

Then again, maybe the reason wasn't so hard to pinpoint.

Once the officers were clear of the cell, he approached Miles on the floor. "So?" He hadn't seen him grab the keys, and when the officer with them on his belt had left the cell, he'd still had a ring attached to his belt loop. If they'd just gone through all of this trouble for no reason, he was calling an end to non-lethal escape attempts.

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sneakingaround
2010-06-23 07:29 am UTC (link)

When the chaos subsided, Archer looked down at the others. Wrinkling his nose, he crouched beside Miles as well, expression keen and detached though he was still raging internally. Griffin had fallen to silence with anger, and really, Archer was glad for this. He didn't need a backseat driver now.

"I assume you have obtained them," he said softly, voice practiced and chilly. His gaze swept to the guards, clouding momentarily. "Unless we wish to stay and monitor their activity for the next several hours to determine the pattern in which they watch us, I would recommend that we open this door unseen."

He paused, hesitant once more about revealing his tale, but then realized that he'd much rather survive than maintain his anonymity. "If you give them to me, I can slip out that door unseen and cause a distraction that will command their attention elsewhere. During that time, you may escape." His gaze flickered to the women's cell, and he recalled the out of place redhead he had seen arrested before. "And release the women."

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clowning
2010-06-23 07:44 am UTC (link)

Although staring dreamily up at the ceiling (a trick well done always did make him intoxicated, and well, so did that cough syrup...) his attention was rather undivided. If only by a twitch of his mouth, or raise of his brows, he had acknowledged every cellmates inquiry or suggestion. When quiet had again overtaken, he'd said very softly though not in a full whisper, so as not to arouse the guards suspicions with all the psss pss psssssss, "You're a very clever man, Glasses." he had unfortunately not caught his name, but he was referring to Archer. "A man so very clever, it is as if you have psychically extracted my very thoughts, and whistled them between your lips like a poem from Kalcutta. "

He then narrowed his eyes--a pang of not trusting this man did unnerve him--but he knew he had no choice, and although upset looking, Archer seemed authentic in his logic. Archer had the kind of eyes that were unpredictable as a science experiment, but trustworthy if given a chance to be.

"You make sure our doors unlocked and I'll make sure to... wait, there's wome--" he sat up. "This is--never mind." he followed Archer's gaze.

Miles gathered the wrapped keys in his pocket and, peeking over Archer's shoulder, handed him the goods. "God speed, Glasses."

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wolfishane
2010-06-23 07:55 am UTC (link)

Shane moved toward the door, keeping an eye on the other prisoners, most of whom had gone back to talking or laying around listlessly after the show was over.

He waited by the door for Archer to hand the keys over. He could unlock it, go out, cause whatever distraction he was offering to cause, and then the rest of them could unlock the door to the women's cells adjacent to theirs. He was anxious to be rid of this place, to be elsewhere. He had the Wolf's dislike for cages, to be sure.

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wolfalone
2010-06-23 09:52 am UTC (link)

Lone had stayed back from all this deception and chaos. He wasn't a naturally deceptive being, but he knew humans were, particularly the one that spoke in riddles. Linguistic complications were extremely human, as most wolf language included more signal than sound, so quite a lot of what the madman said went right over Lone's head. When he got the keys, however, Lone decided that didn't matter much.

He came around the edge of the crowd and caught Shane by the shoulder. "Change first." It was an order, not a request. Though both men were big wolves, they'd be faster, stronger, and far better off in the cold weather that waited outside the doors. Lone stepped back, pulling at his tie and shedding his coat. He handed it to Aiden. "Give it to one of the women when you unlock their cell," he advised. Everybody got out of his way as he continued pulling off shoes, shirt and pants, and they really got out of his way when his head started to change before his socks were clear.

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arcere
2010-06-23 05:57 pm UTC (link)

Clever. Tricky and clever. Once the guards had left Aiden let his scowl return in full-force, though slightly tempered by the fact that they probably did have the keys, which meant all his earlier sarcasm and pessimism had been wasted on nobody but himself. He folded his arms across his chest and rejoined the small group as they planned their last escape.

So he could get out and make a distraction? Unseen, too? This would be something.

"The faster the better," he said, and was them handed Lone's coat, which he nearly dropped before getting a good grip on it. Oh, well ... all right, then. Aiden was ready to say more when something strange happened to Lone's face, and he clamped his teeth together again. That wasn't right. At all. And at the same time it was unbelievably interesting, or maybe that was just Van Helsing practically taking notes on his brain. He moved his gaze back to Archer. "Whatever you're doing, do it."

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sneakingaround
2010-06-23 06:08 pm UTC (link)

Glasses? Archer stared at the actor, momentarily incredulous. How could a human being be this ridiculous and still function? However, he didn't question the man. He made the executive decision to not be argumentative and to simply get along with these people until they had served their purpose. "Alright," he said to the odd man, taking the keys and straightening up. He glanced around the cell, suddenly very self-conscious. Luckily, that only lasted for a few moments, as the oldest man in their 5-person group began to undress and transform into a wolf.

"Fascinating," he thought, staring at the creature for a moment. He almost wanted to take a sample, but realized that he'd have nowhere to store it. He'd need to make a note of this man's identity in the future. For the time being, he glanced around, trying to decide which of the other three to trust with his clothing. If he didn't put it on before going outside, there was a real possibility that he'd freeze to death. He didn't trust the silly actor, and the current wolf seemed to address the one by the door as if he would do the same. That left the one saddled with the coat.

"Stand here," Archer said, resting his thin hands on the disgruntled man's shoulders and shifting so that he stood between Archer and the guards. "Listen to me carefully," he said as he began to loose his tie and shed his jacket. The jacket was neatly folded, and the tie was kept flat. "I must entrust you with my clothing. After you escape, do not lose it. I will find you to put it on after this is done." As he spoke, he began to fade away from view. Finally, he was see-through, an animated shirt and pair of glasses. He unbuttoned the shirt and loosed his pants, then removed his shoes and socks. Everything was folded nicely and left in a pile on the floor until only the glasses remained. He removed them from his face, folding them and handing them directly to the man. "Don't break them," he cautioned.

Keys in hand, Archer dragged them over the floor soundlessly, perfectly invisible. Nobody saw him slip the key gently in the lock and open the door. The door made no sound as he opened it, passing the keys off to the second wolf and whispering to him, "Wait for their confusion." With that, he silently walked past the officers and out into the small hallway outside the cells.

The hallway was fairly bare, save for a few benches and boxes of things that looked like they needed to be unpacked. There were no people, though. Glancing about, Archer picked up one end of a bench - with a great deal of effort - and subsequently dropped it. The noise echoed, arousing shouts of confusion in the officers.

"What was that?"

"I think it came from the hallway!"

Encouraged, Archer did it again, another loud sound echoing through the area. If they clustered in this area, the escapees would be able to flee out another exit before the cops grew wise. Sure enough, the small hallway flooded with cops, their batons at the ready. Smirking, Archer crouched, grabbing the ankle of one and yanking his leg out from under him. He flew to the ground, smashing headfirst into the floor. Archer suppressed a laugh and skittered about the crowd, doing it again. The hallway was an uproar of chaos and confusion as the cops tried to figure out what was happening and where the noise had come from.

He was one hell of a distraction, alright.

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