Clearly, you were never one to follow rules. Not even the rules of the law. Where you came from, people didn't follow those. Like, ever. Growing up in less than ideal neighborhood taught you all the wrong things, sent you down the wrong path. But, who can blame you, right? You didn't know any better. Although you didn't know any better, that didn't matter to the justice system. You ended up getting thrown in the worst of prisons. Litchfield Penitentiary. Your luck doubled, apparently, because you got thrown in max. Where all the hardcore criminals are serving their seemingly endless time.

You've completed the mandatory security test that all inmates go through before being let into Litchfield. Checked for any drugs, weapons, things like that. As you're led through the halls and corridors, the existing inmates look you up and down from inside the cells. Scowls, smirks and leers. Some even growled or whistled at you. You're not phased, more amused that anything. People were worse in the streets. You get nod your head at them and smirk as the officer shoves you foward.

Once you're done, a correctional officer by the name of McCullough is standing by the door to guide you to your cell block.

"Welcome to Litchfield, kid. This is Max, and I'm telling you, is ain't gonna be a walk in the park. You're in max security for a reason, remember that. What's your name?"