Roachman sat in his cell re-thinking the past few days for the hundredth time.
He felt scammed by that Maldeath character. Promising Roachman and the other young villains the world, only to die somehow and screw everything up for him and the rest of his team. He never knew what happened to them, not that he cared.
He was sat on his bed, hands clenched prayerfully, he hadn't looked up at anyone since he entered the prison. He felt ashamed. He had failed himself by finding that invite in the first place, he wished he had just gone ahead and eaten it. He would have if Maldeath wasn't a cheapskate screw-up who used newsprint-standard paper for formal invitations.
With the collar around his neck, Roachman tugged at it in vain yet again. He felt weak, blind and stranded to the ground. His jaw didn't work to it's full extent anymore, either, it had shrivelled and remained only on the inside of his cheeks, same for his arm horns and antennae, he couldn't unfold his wings, just squeeze some useless muscles in his back. This was depressing.
Roachman hadn't felt so downtrodden in a long time, not since school, in fact. The ridicule he received from the fellow inmates was similar to his old classmates, in fact. He looked around the cell and at his inmate. "Gender-mixing? The heroes are really out of control. They must be low on cells." thought Roachman. She looked dissapointed. As if she had hoped for better from prison. She must be used to a high class lifestyle. She looked the part, too.
"Hello. Why are you here?" Roachman sent to her the first smile he felt like giving for a while, now. "I robbed a bank!" he added, impressively.
