test drive;

[thecommissary]

The game cap is 30 players. We currently have 22 players in game. TDM Guidelines 1. We strongly encourage you to post to the AU Workshop before posting here, just to get your concept out there. Feel free to link to your workshop post in your tag for easy lookup purposes. 2. Threads can be game canon if both players agree to it. 3. No one is late! Consider this a permanent test drive (until captcha is hit, if that happens). We'll be tracking top-levels and drawing attention to new posts. 4. You don't have to use any of the prompts below; feel free to create your own! 5. Don't worry about cell block assignments for the purpose of the TDMm if you haven't chosen one - feel free to keep it vague or retcon the threads a bit later. Prompt 1: Common Room The common room has books, magazines, newspapers, cards, and board games. The television has been out of commission for a while, but oh! Look! It seems like a new TV has been mounted on the wall! And this one's a 32 inch flat screen, a nice substitute for the old broken tube TV someone broke over a Monopoly dispute turned violent. If you decide to watch the TV, the screen cuts to static a few minutes after you start watching and a strange voice starts to speak. It's a soft voice, but with the occasional distortion as if spoken by a person standing too close too a microphone. "Hello there! You must be [CHARACTER NAME]. I think it's about time you got to know somebody a little bit better. Why don't you..." (Choose one of the following options:) "Tell someone something you don't want them to know. It doesn't have to be terribly juicy, as long as you'd prefer not to have told them." "Give one of your fellow inmates a nice hard slap across the cheek." "Be nice. Ask somebody if there's anything you can do for them. Anything at all." "Find someone with a snack, and take it away from them." "Go up to someone you don't know, and ask them what they did." "If you decide to ignore me, or you tell anyone you're not acting of your own free will, the guard beside the magazine stand will send you strait to the SHU for two weeks.. Your choice." No one else in the common room seems to hear the voice except you - although the aforementioned guard sure seems to be staring you down. The other people watching TV continue to react to the show that was playing. Prompt 2: Lockdown Uh-oh. Something bad must have happened, because the entire prison has been put into lockdown without bothering to herd everyone back to their proper blocks. You've been herded into a cell with someone from ANY block, and who knows when you'll be let out. You have a set of bunk beds, a table and chair, a toilet and sink, and two shelves where the inmates who actually reside in that cell have put anything that belongs to them. Now's a good time to get to know your new temporary cellmate. Or pray that you're on good terms, if you already know them. Prompt 3: The Yard It's recreation time! Your daily opportunity for a couple hours of fresh air, if you choose to take it (or if the indoor guards are sick of you and decide you're going outside whether you like it or not). The guards here are primarily concerned with preventing your escape, so if you're not lingering around the fences you'll be watched less than if you were inside. If you're new, weak, or don't have a solid group of allies yet, that also means it's less likely that anyone will help you if someone else decides to pick a fight. Be careful. The outdoor guards to a careful, meticulous sweep of the entire area every night, trying to keep...something out. It seems they were slacking off a bit yesterday: the tiniest sliver of obsidian rock has made its way into the yard undetected and - ow - you've brushed up against it, embedding it somewhere on your body. The shard has imbued you with one of the following effects: The next person who makes eye contact with you can read your thoughts, and you can read theirs. Careful, it might get hard to tell who's who after a while. You suddenly feel frightened and timid, as if everyone in the yard is bigger, stronger, and out to hurt you. You are overcome with the urge to dig into the ground with your bare hands, looking for more of the rocks. The next person you see fills you with rage, and you want to attack them. You become exceptionally suggestible, and will do whatever you're told. You feel a strange euphoria: regardless of how you felt before, the prison now feels like the very best place to be, as if you're at the center of the universe. Regardless of the effect, the shard will slowly start to burn hotter and hotter, compelling you to remove it.

Comments

[hardcase]

Abigail. Yes, I remember seeing your name.

[ He kept track of everyone who was assigned to C Block. He'd have to look her up later, and see if he had any information on her. ]

How'd a young'un like you find yourself in a hellhole like this, anyway?

[souille]

[ She's surprised to find that she does begin to feel at ease with him rather quickly, although she knows better than to let her guard down completely.

While she knew she'd get many questions about how she'd ended up here, she still hadn't really prepared a go-to answer. She hesitates, unsure what information on her case the inmates here would be able to get and how much she could shape her own narrative of what had happened to her. But given that she was here to begin with, it was pretty obvious that she'd done something unforgivably terrible. ]

It's kind of a long story. A lot of people are dead because of me.

[hardcase]

[ She doesn't say 'I killed a lot of people', she says 'a lot of people are dead because of me'. There's a difference, and he takes notice. ]

It happens, dear. [ Spoken as softly as if he's comforting a child who just broke their favorite toy. ] The world is a terribly unpredictable place.

[souille]

[ She'd never expected that sort of soothing reaction, and she blinks in surprise, finding it a little surreal, but not unwelcome. ]

Do you think so? That's not what I've found.

[ It had become a predictable pattern that was repeated over and over - Abigail finding and befriending the girl, luring them to her father, then assisting in dismembering and consuming the corpses, which looked so similar to her that she did often think that she was cutting into her own dead body reflected in front of her. The only thing that had been unpredictable was the day she'd finally felt her father's hunting knife slice across her own throat. ]

[hardcase]

Was this - [ He reaches out to touch the scar on her neck with the tips of his fingers, as gently as he possibly can. ] - something you found predictable?

[ He frowns, keeping his hand against her neck as if his good graces alone were keeping the wound from reopening. ]

[souille]

[ Abigail flinches as she feels him alight on the scar, her pulse fluttering rapidly against his fingers, though she finds herself rooted to the spot rather than wanting to run or shake him off. It's the gentility that's thrown her - but then, Garret Jacob Hobbs had been gentle with her right up until he wasn't. ]

That's different. It's complicated.

[ Her words are barely a whisper, as though he'd drawn attention to the true crime she had to hide, rather than the one she was convicted of. ]

[hardcase]

Yes, I imagine it is.

[ He runs his fingers along the edge of the scar before he pulls away. There, all sealed up - not by time or stitches or doctors, but by him. ]

You don't have to tell me about it, if you don't want to. But I make a point to look after my block. [ As if he alone owns C Block. ]

[souille]

[ As his fingers travel along the length of the scar, she's surprised to find her initial panic subside. It's not only that she's finally starting to believe that he isn't going to hurt her, but it really does feel like there's a comfort and healing in the action, as though he's drawing a barrier across it to stop it from hurting her any more. The skin tingles warmly and she's almost ad when he pulls away.

She decides she has nothing to lose by telling him, especially since it's probably only a matter of time before everyone here finds out her past anyway. She doesn't imagine many secrets can be kept in this place. ]

My dad tried to kill me. I think it was all he ever really thought about. I helped him find so many substitutes, but it was really only prolonging the inevitable.

[hardcase]

You trusted him. And he betrayed you.

[ I'd never do that, is the implication. ] You have to be weak to attack your own like that. And strong to survive it.

[souille]

[ Abigail nods, the sadness and disappointment evident in her eyes. To have the person she'd placed at the centre of her world turn on her, cutting her adrift and leaving her to answer for his crimes, was the worst betrayal she could imagine. The logical part of her knows that she shouldn't trust so easily again, but there's a huge void, for a mentor, a guide, that she doesn't feel complete without.

Her smile is small and shy, but she looks genuinely pleased by the compliment. She'd become used to being framed as a victim and a perpetrator, but not as a survivor, a role that actually empowered her. ]

I've never really thought on myself as strong. I just did what I had to. Thank you, though. I... I think I needed to hear that from someone.

[hardcase]

You survived all that, you got sent to this shithole, you're locked in a cell with The Dark Man himself, and you're still holding up? I'd say that's strong.

[ The Dark Man was what he was called while his trial was ongoing, mostly by people who were afraid of him and wanted to give him some catchy nickname like a second-rate serial killer. He'd come to embrace the name because the people who used it painted such a lovely, vicious picture of him for the public. He ought to thank them. ]

I was betrayed, too. No feeling worse than that. [ Which is why he murdered everyone who betrayed him. Totally justified! ]

[souille]

Is that what they call you?

[ Her prior nervousness flickers back into her gaze - for a moment she'd almost forgotten that she was sharing a cell with a hardened criminal. There's a fascination there too, though, that she can't quite suppress. ]

I'm sorry. It really is the worst thing I can imagine.

[ Which probably goes to show just how little she's experienced. ]

[hardcase]

Yeah. People love a boogeyman. It's easier for the masses to make you into some monster than to deal with the fact that they're cut from the same cloth.

[ So he'll be The Dark Man, the thing that came out of the shadows. If he was just another human, then anyone could do what he did and that thought was just too discomforting. ]

It's alright. Water under the bridge. I don't let traitors occupy space in my mind, and difficult as it may be, neither should you.

[souille]

It sounds a lot more catchy than the Minnesota Shrike. That's what they called my dad.

[ Making him into a creature rather than a person, too. He's right, she has to admit - people were afraid of the idea that anyone could easily do what they'd done. ]

You're right. It's hard, when the person who betrayed you was such a huge part of your life. But I guess I've got a lot of time to learn to live without him.

[hardcase]

[ He raises an eyebrow at the nickname. Yes, he's heard of that one, though most news reports focused on the man (who he had no interest in at all) rather than the daughter (who he was very much interested in). ]

Don't just learn to live. Thrive. You can, even if you're here.

[souille]

[ Abigail isn't so sure of that. She'd happily take just surviving, and she's not sure she'd even manage that in a run of the mill prison, let alone this place. Although, that brings her back to something he said earlier in the conversation, that she'd taken just as a platitude to reassure her at first, but was now beginning to believe. ]

Did you mean what you said, that you look after our block?

[hardcase]

Of course. Step one of thriving here is finding purpose, and that's mine.

[ She's lost and looking for someone to fill the void her father left when he betrayed her. That much is clear. If he has any say in it, it'll be him.

He sits on the bottom bunk, motioning for her to sit beside him. ] Come on. Don't be afraid.

[souille]

[ She hesitates for the briefest second, then follows him over to the bunk, seating herself next to him with her hands folded in her lap. ]

[hardcase]

[ Slow and careful, he wraps one arm around her shoulders and pulls her toward his chest. He's warm and soft and tall enough that his chin can rest on top of her head. ]

If anyone gives you a hard time here, you tell me, alright? [ He runs his fingers through her hair, rocking slowly back and forth like he's trying to soothe a child. ]

You don't have to be afraid. Not when you're with me.

[souille]

[ At first, Abigail freezes up. She's so unused to being touched at all any more, let alone so tenderly, and it's difficult to tell herself that she deserves it. Then, for the first time since the police had stormed their house and her father had slit her throat, she lets herself drop the defenses she's built up around herself, allowing herself the indulgence of being vulnerable.

She presses her face into his chest, wrapping her arms around him and clinging, her fingers bunching into his uniform. She's been cast adrift for so long, foundering in the dark, and her relief at finding a harbour is almost palpable. ]

Thank you. You don't know what that means to me-- thank you.

[hardcase]

[ He keeps holding onto her until he hears the guards start to come and unlock the nearby cells. ]

It looks like we're getting out. Will you be alright?

[souille]

[ She'd almost forgotten that they were locked in until she hears the guard outside. Slowly, a little reluctantly, she pulls away, still looking at him with the same utter gratitude. ]

I'll be okay. I'm not alone now.