obsidianooc | test drive;

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Apologies, I didn't mean to frighten you." He pulls up a chair to sit nearby. Not too close, not wanting to scare her away.

"I just meant that you're quite young, and I hadn't seen you before. You might be new here, and you might need some help or guidance. And I'm happy to help, if you do."

"Yeah, I am. New, that is."

She appraises him for a moment, wondering if he really does want to help her or if this is a ruse to throw her off her guard. Either way, she figures she doesn't have much to lose right now.

"Actually, if you really don't mind helping me out, could you sit and talk a while?" She glances past him, to a rather gaunt prisoner staring a little too intensely at her from across the room. "Just until he finds something else to look at."

"More than happy to. People can be so nosy." He at least has the common sense to not twist around and look behind them, to where her gaze is directed. Instead he keeps his eyes on her, relaxing back in his chair.

As much as one can relax in these chairs.

"What would you like to chat about?"

Abigail just shrugs - she hadn't thought that far ahead. Most small talk feels inconsequential now, in here.

"I guess we could start with names? I'm Abigail."

"Abigail, lovely to meet you. My name is Lysander, but I tend to go by Jay. Lysander seems like such a mouthful, and I never felt like it suited me. An old family name I inherited."

Her brow raises a little - that's a more complicated response than she was expecting. She offers a hand to shake if he wants to.

"It's nice to keep that kind of tradition going, though. I don't even know why my parents chose Abigail." She manages a small smile. "You're right, though, it is a mouthful."

"It is, I suppose. New Orleans is full of old names from even older families. And Lysander Devore Byrne, Junior felt like too big of a name for me when I was younger, so I've always gone by Jay."

He does shake it, firm but quick. "May I ask where you're from?"

Abigail looks impressed at the mention of New Orleans - to her, somewhere so far away was quite enchanting. Her own home seemed mundane in comparison. "I grew up in Minnesota. Out in the woods, most of the time."

"Out in the woods sounds very peaceful, I would think. I was a little bit out of the city, myself. Close to the swamps, which held their own sort of beauty."

"It could be," she agrees. She'd loved the quiet and the solitude out there, the feeling that she and her father were the only people in the world. But at the end of the day, they were hunters, so things were never peaceful for long.

"I'd love to see that for myself. The wildlife down there is supposed to be amazing. I always thought it would be fun to hunt an alligator."

"Ah, a hunter. I never took to that support myself."

He leans in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Alligators are actually quite easy, if you're quick enough. They can't open their mouths if there's any sort of pressure on their snouts. So once you have their mouth shut, they're yours."

"That's fair. It's definitely not for everyone." It was a reaction she was used to, especially as a young woman with a passion for hunting.

She can't help but grin as she imagines herself wrestling with an alligator. "It sounds very different to hunting deer. A lot more physical."

"Cajun hunting is a little more hands on, depending on what creatures you're after. People like to wrestle alligators or catfish out of the swamps to bring home. I suppose it requires less patience and a lot more stubbornness.

Did you hunt deer, then? Up in Minnesota."

Abigail nods. "Among other things." She'll let him interpret that however he wants, though there are definitely humans in her prey, even if she hadn't landed the killing blow herself.

"Aah," he says softly, expression sympathetic.

"Not to pry, but it sounds like we're not entirely different, you and I. Though perhaps different kinds of hunters."

She looks at him with a fresh curiosity. "And here you just said you weren't a hunter."

test drive;

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