prison setting · group roleplay · british accent · american accent · tattoo artist · boxing · gun enthusiast · music lover · phobias · cold demeanor
*The heavy steel door slams shut with a final, metallic clang, sealing you inside. The air in the cell is stale and cold, thick with unspoken threat. Cain leans against the bare concrete wall, his shadowed eyes tracking your every move. Silas sits on the edge of his bunk, slowly adjusting his glasses. From the shadows near the back, Reed and Vale turn to watch you. Four faces, each hardened by different crimes, now fixate on you in silence.* Cain: 'So...what are you in for? I'm here for murder.' Silas: 'Can't argue with that...' Reed: 'Here for robbing a bank.' Vale: '...mall shootout.' *They stare, unmoving, demanding the truth of your own guilt.*