Tests of Misconception c:

[lI Misconception lI]

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TROY ANNE JAMISON
xoxoxoxoxxoTHE TATTOO ARTIST


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___Sometimes they call me T-ROY
___And my last birthday, I turned Twenty Two
___And I blow them out on All Hallows Eve
___Please, keep this a secret. But... I have a long history with law enforcement.
___MY CONTROLLER: lI Misconception lI
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Your body is a temple. So why not decorate the walls? A quote Troy has forever lived by. Life for Troy, well it came easy, anything she wanted. Her parents where in the military. So living the life she wanted? Not easy. It was always cookie cutter. Firm pressed skirt. Combed back hair. Button up shirt, tucked in. It was a life of misery. Especially with such a creative brain. Drawings upon drawings, paintings galore, they all adorned the walls of her bedroom growing up. Quite the talent. Once she started into her teenage years..the rebellion started. Fights. Underage drinking. Drugs. Partying. Whatever you name it. Her first time even being arrested was at the age of 16 for breaking the master sergeants daughter's nose and busted her lip. Why? For crossing her the wrong way. It didn't matter. She loved the fight and the thrill of the fight. A couple of arrests happened in the years after that. Her first real prison time being as soon as she turned 18. That's when she discovered her love of tattoos. Using a rigged up machine to tattoo the fellows around her. Released at nineteen she found her way into a shop as an apprentice. Working her way up to full fledged artist. Now at twenty two she finally has her anger under control and working full time as assistant manager at her shop. Talk about a turn around, huh?

[lI Misconception lI]

DILLON JAMISON, THE DEPARTED
MALE XXX TWENTY FIVEXXX #550000 XXX NPC

WHEN IT CAME TO THE FIGHT THAT HAD HAPPENED BEFORE, DILLON HAD NOT BEEN SO LUCKY, CONSIDERING HE IS NOW DECEASED. BUT WHEN IT CAME TO HIS LIFE, DILLON LIVED IT TO THE FULLEST. BEING AN EXTREMELY PROTECTIVE OLDER BROTHER TO TROY. ESPECIALLY SINCE THEY WHERE BOTH SO DIFFERENT. TROY HAVING HER POWER TO TAKE THOSE OF OTHERS AND DILLON HAVING THE POWER OF NOT SO IMPRESSIVE INVISIBILITY. BUT AS CHILDREN IT WAS EXTREMELY HELPFUL. WHEN TROY WAS FACING THE WRATH OF HER PARENTS OR SHE HAD DONE SOMETHING TO WHERE SHE WAS SO SCARED WHEN THEY CAME TO INVESTIGATE, HE ALWAYS HAD HER DRAIN HIM AND BECOME INVISIBLE SO HE COULD TAKE THE FALL. HE WAS EXTREMELY LOVING, CARING, AND UNDERSTANDING. WHEN TROY ALWAYS GOT INTO TROUBLE HE WAS KNOWN TO BE A LIAR JUST TO BE SURE HER PUNISHMENT WAS ALWAYS LESS THEN WHAT IT COULD OF BEEN. WHEN IT CAME TO THE BATTLE, THERE WAS ONE MOMENT TROY WAS ABOUT TO TAKE A SEVERE BLOW. ONE THAT WOULD OF ENDED HER LIFE. AT THAT MOMENT DILLON HAD MADE HIMSELF INVISIBLE, ACTING AS A CLEAR SHIELD TAKING MOST OF THE FATALITY, AND AT THAT POINT, HIS LIFE WAS GONE.

[lI Misconception lI]

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. The clock on the wall was nothing but a big headache echoing through her head. A small frame sitting in the bed, dry eyes staring at that menacing clock that let her know every single second that was passing by. Nothing but heavy deep set dark circles under her pale green eyes. Troy couldn't sleep. She couldn't even eat. She just sat in her bed almost every day just staring at that plain wall with a singular clock. It was miserable. Being trapped. She couldn't believe he was gone. The one that said he'd never leave. But he did. To protect her. Why couldn't of it have been her instead? Why did Dillon sacrifice himself? Now she was all alone. Trapped in this house. Being a burden. A trouble maker. The enemy. That's how she knows she was portrayed. Despite her throbbing dry red eyes she managed a few more tears. She didn't want anyone to see her like this. Reaching into her nightstand she popped a few more sleeping pills just praying..praying maybe for some sleep. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. She finally manged to pass out, with nothing but nightmares to plague her sleep.

----Waking Up, 1 PM ----

As Troy awoke the blaring sun penetrated the windows. Looking at the clock it illuminated that it was one in the afternoon. Well. At least she got a few hours of sleep in. Her clothes clung to her body with sweat from the nightmares she had experienced. This was the reason she didn't even want to sleep anymore. Her hair was all a mess and makeup was clear smeared across her face from days on end. She needed a shower. Bad. But it took a lot of energy to even want to do so. Her pale and heavily tattooed frame managed to get out of bed, her legs shaking from weakness of trying to carry her weight. She slowly made her way to the bathroom to kick on the shower, waiting for the water to be ridiculously hot. She needed the warmth with how cold she felt. Outside and in. It would be nice to just feel the warmth. Not feel so cold and empty. As she waited for her shower to warm up she rummaged through her clothes to pick out something for the day.

Finally Troy decided on an outfit. A crop top with two middle fingers on the front, ripped up shorts and her favorite spiked heels Dillon got her many birthdays ago. As she walked back into the bathroom, steam hit her face. Perfect. Undressing she stepped into the shower letting the hot water hit her skin, turning it bright pink. My god did that feel good. The heavy water pressure hitting her back making the tight muscles in her back loose. My god did she need this. She could stay in this shower forever. It was a peaceful place where all her sorrows could wash away. But as soon as she was out, the realization she was alone would hit like a tidal wave..no..even a tsunami. Troy didn't think the pain would ever go away. As the sadness hit again, she washed up and exited the shower. Drying off and getting dressed she walked over to the vanity. Blow drying her hair, Throwing it in a sloppy bun, putting in her two inch plugs and doing a quick makeup application, she left the bathroom.

Now what to do. . she was stuck in this room with nothing to do. She couldn't leave on her own free will. She was the enemy. But really all she was she was troubled. Plopping down her bed she stared at that same clock. Seconds passing by. One by one. A sigh escaped her pale lips as she reached underneath her bed to grab her sketchbook. Flipping it open to her most recent drawing. A portrait of her brother. She could remember every last detail of his face. Some of the lines where smudged from where her tears have dropped and dried on the page. Taking out her pack of pencils and popping headphones into her ears listening to some Rob Zombie. She worked on the drawing to remember him. Drowning out her thoughts with the loud music in her ears. It was just another day. Another day of being stuck. Being trapped. And all Troy really wished to do at this point, was to just escape. Be far far away from here. Maybe there would be a way to make it happen..but that was just a dream in an unrealistic reality.