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ThIs gUn wAsN'T PoInTeD At mY HeAd
looks at you as this bullet strikes you dead
Created on 2007-10-11 23:12:08 (#14012701), last updated 2008-03-04
329 comments received, 280 comments posted
Plus Account [Gift]
18 Journal Entries, 2 Tags, 0 Memories, 0 Virtual Gifts, 10 Userpics
Basic Info| Name: | Ashton |
|---|---|
| Birthdate: | 1984-06-22 |
BioThis is an RP journal maintained by ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
xkesshoux for ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif)
memento_eden
Background: From an early age, it was clear that Ashton was going to be royally screwed at life.
His mother died on the operating table from a bullet wound near the end of her last trimester, the doctors forced to do a c-section to save him, and his father was neglectful and abusive. By the time he was eight, Ashton had already started to develop what most doctors these days refer to as Dissociative Identity Disorder. More commonly, this mental illness is referred to as either split personality disorder or multiple personality disorder.
At the same time, he was also in the midst of an early onset of schizophrenia. A normal boy living in a normal town with a not so normal mind.
He suffered from delusions and auditory hallucinations, some of which were so vivid that he actually listened to them. One such incident led to him blinding his own left eye.
His life took a sudden turn for the worse one night (he was around twelve at the time), when his father came home drunk and violent, immediately seeking him out to vent his anger on. The man screamed slurred obscenities at him, calling him a filthy mongrel child and condemning him for the death of his wife. In one fleeting moment of sheer panic, Ashton blacked out.
He awoke to the sounds of police sirens wailing outside, the first thing that appeared in his line of vision being the brutally slain corpse of his father followed by the sickening realization that he was covered in the man's blood.
He later learned that the neighbors had heard gunshots and screaming and had called the police. He was also informed that his fingerprints were all over the murder weapon, even though he hadn't remembered ever picking up the gun.
They'd chalked it up to self defense in the end and sent him to a foster home.
Flash forward, sixteen years old and mixed up with the wrong crowd. After picking up a gun again, Ashton had learned that he was an easy natural with it, and despite it being illegal, he carried one with him at all times.
His alter persona simply grew stronger with the years, taking control more and more frequently, particularly when he had a rather bad shock or felt threatened. Deceit, as he called himself, was the one who got him addicted to cigarettes, who got him in with the crowd he hung with. Deceit was the one who killed for him.
Deceit was also the one who landed him in court on murder charges.
Upon examination, the court deemed Ashton unfit to stand trial due to his mental conditions, instead shipping him off to the Alkatraz of mental institutions. There, they collared him (he'll insist that they cast the seamless collar right around his throat, saying that if anyone could get it the fuck off him, he'd show them the burn scar), shoved him in a sparsely furnished room (cell), drugged him to hell and back, and took away his name.
From there on, he was known simply as 22653_847, the number on his identification collar (these collars placed on each inmate to assure an easy identification should the prisoner escape, considering they were nearly impossible to remove).
What they didn't know, was how much of a slippery bastard Deceit was. Despite the drugs, Ashton was shoved under more and more, and all the while, Deceit planned.
Six years of what Ashton would recount as torture later, Deceit made his move.
The next thing Ashton knew, he was standing, dressed in all black (slightly baggy, not quite his size), in front of a naked, unrecognizable corpse, the familiar weight of a gun at his side. The next thing after that was the realization that he really really needed a cigarette.
The next thing he noticed were the sirens, and in a twitchy, paranoid wreck, he ran, and has been running ever since.
Extra profiling information~
Ashton's probably about 5'7". Not too tall for a guy, but not too short, either. His left eye is white-blind, a scar running from just above the eyebrow down to just above the cheekbone. His hair is a bloody red (think Reno, FF7), and at present has grown to just past his shoulderblades in the back. His bangs are ridiculously unkempt, usually arranged to cover his blind eye, they're jagged because as soon as Deceit got him out of the institution, he cut them with a knife he stole off of a guy that took a swing at him (coincidentally, the guy also had a gun, which Deceit also stole). His natural eye color is a brilliant emerald green.
He smokes like a chimney and gets real aggitated without cigarettes. He typically stays clean shaven.
As an extra note, not too long after the escape from the psychiatric prison, Deceit started keeping in contact with Ashton via notes.
Personality:
Ashton himself is rather laid back (at least when he's got nicotine). He's not quick to pick a fight, but not quick to back down once one starts up. He's generally antisocial, but also both curious and paranoid. He's not the worst potty mouth there ever was, but he's no prude. He's got street brawling down to an art, and though he's got near impeccable aim, he rarely pulls his gun. He thinks before he speaks, and isn't usually phased easily. On the downside, he has some suicidal tendencies, mostly influenced by the "voices in his head telling him to do it". Despite being the original persona, he is arguable not the dominant one (as in, he does not remember anything of Deceit except what he's told, but Deceit remembers snippets of him).
Deceit, on the other hand, is more outgoing, bordering on downright lewd. He's always the instigator. He's the one who calls the shots, who does the deals, who makes the kills and comes up with all the plans. He's witty and cunning, most easily compared with a cat. While Ashton is more reserved, Deceit is most certainly not, not when it comes to words nor when it comes to fights. To him, it's kill or be killed, and oh, how he loves to kill. Arguable, his favorite pastimes include torture, rape, and murder, probably in that order. He's a real nasty. Don't ask him what his favorite music is (he'll probably tell you "screams of terror and agony").
xkesshoux for memento_edenBackground: From an early age, it was clear that Ashton was going to be royally screwed at life.
His mother died on the operating table from a bullet wound near the end of her last trimester, the doctors forced to do a c-section to save him, and his father was neglectful and abusive. By the time he was eight, Ashton had already started to develop what most doctors these days refer to as Dissociative Identity Disorder. More commonly, this mental illness is referred to as either split personality disorder or multiple personality disorder.
At the same time, he was also in the midst of an early onset of schizophrenia. A normal boy living in a normal town with a not so normal mind.
He suffered from delusions and auditory hallucinations, some of which were so vivid that he actually listened to them. One such incident led to him blinding his own left eye.
His life took a sudden turn for the worse one night (he was around twelve at the time), when his father came home drunk and violent, immediately seeking him out to vent his anger on. The man screamed slurred obscenities at him, calling him a filthy mongrel child and condemning him for the death of his wife. In one fleeting moment of sheer panic, Ashton blacked out.
He awoke to the sounds of police sirens wailing outside, the first thing that appeared in his line of vision being the brutally slain corpse of his father followed by the sickening realization that he was covered in the man's blood.
He later learned that the neighbors had heard gunshots and screaming and had called the police. He was also informed that his fingerprints were all over the murder weapon, even though he hadn't remembered ever picking up the gun.
They'd chalked it up to self defense in the end and sent him to a foster home.
Flash forward, sixteen years old and mixed up with the wrong crowd. After picking up a gun again, Ashton had learned that he was an easy natural with it, and despite it being illegal, he carried one with him at all times.
His alter persona simply grew stronger with the years, taking control more and more frequently, particularly when he had a rather bad shock or felt threatened. Deceit, as he called himself, was the one who got him addicted to cigarettes, who got him in with the crowd he hung with. Deceit was the one who killed for him.
Deceit was also the one who landed him in court on murder charges.
Upon examination, the court deemed Ashton unfit to stand trial due to his mental conditions, instead shipping him off to the Alkatraz of mental institutions. There, they collared him (he'll insist that they cast the seamless collar right around his throat, saying that if anyone could get it the fuck off him, he'd show them the burn scar), shoved him in a sparsely furnished room (cell), drugged him to hell and back, and took away his name.
From there on, he was known simply as 22653_847, the number on his identification collar (these collars placed on each inmate to assure an easy identification should the prisoner escape, considering they were nearly impossible to remove).
What they didn't know, was how much of a slippery bastard Deceit was. Despite the drugs, Ashton was shoved under more and more, and all the while, Deceit planned.
Six years of what Ashton would recount as torture later, Deceit made his move.
The next thing Ashton knew, he was standing, dressed in all black (slightly baggy, not quite his size), in front of a naked, unrecognizable corpse, the familiar weight of a gun at his side. The next thing after that was the realization that he really really needed a cigarette.
The next thing he noticed were the sirens, and in a twitchy, paranoid wreck, he ran, and has been running ever since.
Extra profiling information~
Ashton's probably about 5'7". Not too tall for a guy, but not too short, either. His left eye is white-blind, a scar running from just above the eyebrow down to just above the cheekbone. His hair is a bloody red (think Reno, FF7), and at present has grown to just past his shoulderblades in the back. His bangs are ridiculously unkempt, usually arranged to cover his blind eye, they're jagged because as soon as Deceit got him out of the institution, he cut them with a knife he stole off of a guy that took a swing at him (coincidentally, the guy also had a gun, which Deceit also stole). His natural eye color is a brilliant emerald green.
He smokes like a chimney and gets real aggitated without cigarettes. He typically stays clean shaven.
As an extra note, not too long after the escape from the psychiatric prison, Deceit started keeping in contact with Ashton via notes.
Personality:
Ashton himself is rather laid back (at least when he's got nicotine). He's not quick to pick a fight, but not quick to back down once one starts up. He's generally antisocial, but also both curious and paranoid. He's not the worst potty mouth there ever was, but he's no prude. He's got street brawling down to an art, and though he's got near impeccable aim, he rarely pulls his gun. He thinks before he speaks, and isn't usually phased easily. On the downside, he has some suicidal tendencies, mostly influenced by the "voices in his head telling him to do it". Despite being the original persona, he is arguable not the dominant one (as in, he does not remember anything of Deceit except what he's told, but Deceit remembers snippets of him).
Deceit, on the other hand, is more outgoing, bordering on downright lewd. He's always the instigator. He's the one who calls the shots, who does the deals, who makes the kills and comes up with all the plans. He's witty and cunning, most easily compared with a cat. While Ashton is more reserved, Deceit is most certainly not, not when it comes to words nor when it comes to fights. To him, it's kill or be killed, and oh, how he loves to kill. Arguable, his favorite pastimes include torture, rape, and murder, probably in that order. He's a real nasty. Don't ask him what his favorite music is (he'll probably tell you "screams of terror and agony").
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