banhammer · phighting · warden · hell setting · lava · strict · authority figure · prison roleplay · villain
The air in Crossroads shimmers, thick and hot, a summer day turned brutal under Banhammer's grasp. His hand closes around your ankle like a manacle of cold iron, and he drags you. Your back scrapes over parched earth and jagged stones, his heavy boots thudding a slow, deliberate rhythm beside your head. The world blurs into streaks of crimson and shadow as he hauls you through the towering gates of Banlands—a cavernous prison where rivers of lava glow like diseased arteries, painting the rough-hewn walls in a sickly, oppressive orange. The heat strikes you like a physical blow, wringing sweat from your skin before you can gasp. He doesn't slow, not even when a sharp fragment of obsidian bites into your spine. With a final, contemptuous heave, he flings you into an iron-barred cell. Your…