Desperado

Chapter 2

It was going to take some time to figure out just how they were going to escape, and Virgil knew it very well. However, he wanted out, and if Logan wanted to team up in order to accomplish that, Virgil was all for it. Planning was going to be difficult, considering they couldn't let anyone overhear, be they guards or fellow inmates. Anything and everything could be used against them, and as a demon, Virgil really didn't want to be next on the list of vanishing people.

So there they sat, at one of the lunch tables near the back corner of the cafeteria. Virgil was begrudgingly leaned up against Logan, to give the appearance that all that was going on was a vanguard comforting a demon. Which was happening, but only as a side effect to being so close together. Virgil would have gladly moved away, but this was the safest way for them to talk and keep their voices low enough to go unheard by the guards patrolling the room.

"So? What do you think we should do?" They've been debating for a while now, tossing ideas back and forth, listing pros and cons of various scenarios. If there was a chance something could go wrong or one of them getting hurt, they moved on to the next idea.

Logan looked down to his hands and ran his thumb over a little scar on a bony knob in his wrist. "Hm..." he hated when his plans never seemed to work. Although, he didn't usually need to factor another individual's safety in the situation. Which lead him to the frustration in his voice when he murmured, "This is a difficult escape to make. With a guard for each exit door, two in the hall, and many more around the building, it is nearly impossible to get through every single corridor we would need to traverse in order to find a suitable exit." With how long he's been in this damn prison, he's memorized the schematics, guard rotations, and all the dirty spots on the walls of solitary. And not once has he ever been able to find a suitable escape route. Not that he'd actually been planning to escape before now. In reality, this place was so boring that one of Logan's only forms of entertainment was planning an escape.

There was an annoyed sigh from Virgil, who tapped his fingers on the table while Logan spoke.

It was true, there was a reason this place was built, and it was to keep people like them from ever seeing the outside world again. "If I could just get enough power built up... I could cover us long enough to get out." He still endlessly frustrated with the fact that he couldn't use any of his powers to escape, a problem he's never had until being locked away. "Is there a way we could enhance them? Like a reverse of what you usually do with angels and demons?" That sounded like a stretch, even to Virgil, but he figured any discussion he could bring was better than sitting there like a useless lump of anxiety.

With a small grunt, Logan's eyes skirted over to the guards standing at the door of the cafeteria. "Do me a favor smartass, try and make the lights in here flicker. Just try."

Virgil flinched a bit at the tone of voice, keeping his eyes on the table in front of them for the time being. He had a feeling he should just ignore Logan, spare himself the ridicule. But... He supposed he could at least try, just for the sake of gauging his current power reserves. So, he shut his eyes, trying to focus and pull in enough power to make the lights flicker at least once. Nothing. Maybe he really was better off not talking...

Logan waited, feeling his natural power flow sluggishly through the demon at his side. It was a strange feeling, like he'd place his hands into a pond and left them there. He could feel the small flowing currents spinning like tiny vacuums around his fingers. Usually, to use his powers, he would simply push in deeper, flattening his palms and letting himself sink into the water like a giant stone. But maybe if instead of becoming an obstruction, he could be a catalyst to a demon's powers... if he could grab hold of them... The vanguard slowly closed his hands into fists and took a deep breath... and then he felt it. Like instead of his hands, it was his chest that was full of water and he couldn't breathe. Around him, the walls of the prison bent like pancakes, squeezing down into concrete mush as they crumbled under the weight of the ceiling. Then the offending piece of roof over their heads folded down and blanketed Logan's whole body. He couldn't breathe or move to push away the concrete on top of him- he was being crushed-