sereiin
Member
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This section is for roleplays only.
ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.
Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.
Fantasy [ ๐๐๐ ๐ค๐ฅ๐๐ช ๐๐ ๐ง๐] ~ sแดสแดษชษชษด ๏น แดขษชแดแดส
zippy
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BASICS
Name:
Cameron Pierce
Nickname:
Cam
Age:
Permanently 23
Gender:
Ghost Boi
Sexuality:
Heterosexual
APPEARANCE
Face Claim:
Jeremy Dufour
Eye Color:
Brown
Hair Color:
Blonde
Height:
5'11
Weight:
0 lbs.... He's a ghost what did you expect?
General:
These days, Cameron is often seen with a stubborn scowl on his face. His eyes are dark and brooding, and can be intense when he focuses his gaze on one subject. His hair has a permanently windswept appearance, though in a way that looks styled rather than messy. He is tall and rather lean, but the figure suits him well. Yes, Cameron is a ghost but that doesn't mean he can't be a stylish one. He does have a finite amount of outfits that he prefers to keep simple and clean, mostly plain sweaters and loose button-downs.
PERSONALITY
General:
Cameron, on the surface, can be a bit hostile. He doesn't do well with change, new people, or his space being invaded. Whenever he encounters humans, his grumpy demeanor overwhelms any other aspect of himself. He is impatient and easily bothered, feeling that most people are just far too stupid to waste his time on (not that time mattered now anyway). Perhaps Cameron is a bit too cocky for someone who's dead, but that thought never crosses his mind. During his living years, Cameron was an artist. His creative streak has not left him in the slightest, and he has a love for natural beauty. Despite his abrasive persona, once he warms up to people he can be... nishish. A romantic at heart, Cameron longs to find someone to spend eternity with. The only issue is that he is seemingly tethered to the house where he died.
Likes:
Art | Jazz | The smell of baking desserts | dogs | sunrises
Dislikes:
The fact that someone keeps selling the house to people when he clearly doesn't want anyone to move in. That's it. That's the whole dislike.
HISTORY
- Cameron was an only child. Small family, nothing really of note
- Throughout schooling he didn't really care much for "learning" or "knowledge", but he really thrived in art classes
- His art teacher became a mentor, guiding his works and providing helpful critiques
- He ended up going to college for traditional painting and sculpting
- Once he graduated he moved into his first home by himself, spending many of his days locked up in his room painting or sculpting
- His death was a freak accident. A large metal sculpture that he was hanging fell and impaled him. His death was painful and slow, probably the reason that his spirit decided to hang around and be so grumpy
sereiin
Member
BASICS
name: sofia amrell
nickname: sof
age: 23
gender: female
sexuality: heterosexual
APPEARANCE
faceclaim: billie lourd
eyes: hazel
hair: brunette
height: 5'7"
weight: 130lbs
LIKES
[ any and all animals ]
[ ice cream ]
[ romantic sunrises ]
[ exploring in forbidden places ]
[ adrenaline rushes ]
DISLIKES
[ loud noises ]
[ rap music ]
[ being teased constantly ]
[ assholes ]
PERSONALITY
[ witty ]
[ sarcastic ]
[ melodramatic ]
[ humorous ]
[ constantly overthinks everything ]
[ despises anything creepy or horror-related ]
[ absolutely does not believe in supernatural happenings ]
[secretly enjoys romance ]
[ always tries too hard to be good at everything ]
HISTORY
[ comes from a family of six; she's a middle child with two older brothers and a younger sister ]
[ never struggled with earning high grades throughout school, including college ]
[ graduated two months ago with a degree in criminal justice ]
[ scored a six month contract with a small, successful law firm in town ]
[ just signed the lease to her first house ]
zippy
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The abandoned house loomed somewhat ominously over its assigned plot of land. In another light, it could've been considered quaint. The faded blue siding, muddied white trim, and dilapidated black roofing all worked together to paint a somewhat alluring portrait. Sure it was a fixer-upper, but the house clearly had some charm in a past life. The front of the exterior housed a mere 4 windows. One on the bottom floor that was situated in an overhang looked into the living room, fully furnished--a point that the realtor made sure to emphasize--but outdated and dusty. The next two were on the second floor, framed by baby blue shutters that matched the paint of the house. One accompanied the small but "rife with personality" bedroom, and the other an empty room with stains of paint and oil on the hardwood floor. The last was much smaller than the rest and offered a glimpse into the attic of the small house. Though, the most notable feature was the young man within, scowling down at the yard.
In the years since his death, Cameron felt much more comfortable in the attic than any other place of the house. The attic had an almost permanent draft, making it much more chill than the rest of the house. It had other benefits outside of comfort as well. Living in the attic increased his creepy factor by tenfold, making it far simpler to scare people away from the house. His house.
Cameron had watched as the story of his death manipulated into a sort of urban legend. In the beginning, it was the truth. The story of a poor boy who'd died from a freak accent, alone in his home without anyone at his side. Cameron wasn't sure when the story first warped. But when the first group of children broke into his home, he was an artist who'd gone crazy and taken his own life. He scared them away easily, slamming doors and tossing items at them while remaining unseen. Though part of him wanted to be amused by the stories, he couldn't help but be bitter at his sullied reputation. Now, some two decades after his death Cameron no longer had a name in the legends. According to them, he was a middle-aged artist who'd killed his whole family and then himself in the room that now stayed empty.
Pathetic rumors.
If the ghost were solid, his nose would've been pressed against the window as he watched the familiar yellow bug approach. This realtor was much more determined than the last, and nothing he did was enough to deter her from selling the house and earning that sweet, sweet commission. His eyes followed the stout woman as she climbed out of the car in a rather clown-like manner. From certain angles, she was nearly as wide as the car, and Cameron's increasingly cruel sense of humor meant that he found himself nearly constantly making fun of her. Though it wasn't until she approached the newly planted garden in front of the house that he allowed a smile to break the stoic mask on his face. It was simple really, one-touch from his hands caused a ghostly chill to pass through any living subject. This had meant near-instant death for the flowers the realtor had planted just a week ago.
He had no doubt that the realtor was here to give the newest owner the keys to the place and perhaps assure her once more that the house was not, in fact, haunted. The other car approached, and Cameron took the time to float down to the main floor. If someone was to move in, Cameron at least wanted to see them up close.
In the years since his death, Cameron felt much more comfortable in the attic than any other place of the house. The attic had an almost permanent draft, making it much more chill than the rest of the house. It had other benefits outside of comfort as well. Living in the attic increased his creepy factor by tenfold, making it far simpler to scare people away from the house. His house.
Cameron had watched as the story of his death manipulated into a sort of urban legend. In the beginning, it was the truth. The story of a poor boy who'd died from a freak accent, alone in his home without anyone at his side. Cameron wasn't sure when the story first warped. But when the first group of children broke into his home, he was an artist who'd gone crazy and taken his own life. He scared them away easily, slamming doors and tossing items at them while remaining unseen. Though part of him wanted to be amused by the stories, he couldn't help but be bitter at his sullied reputation. Now, some two decades after his death Cameron no longer had a name in the legends. According to them, he was a middle-aged artist who'd killed his whole family and then himself in the room that now stayed empty.
Pathetic rumors.
If the ghost were solid, his nose would've been pressed against the window as he watched the familiar yellow bug approach. This realtor was much more determined than the last, and nothing he did was enough to deter her from selling the house and earning that sweet, sweet commission. His eyes followed the stout woman as she climbed out of the car in a rather clown-like manner. From certain angles, she was nearly as wide as the car, and Cameron's increasingly cruel sense of humor meant that he found himself nearly constantly making fun of her. Though it wasn't until she approached the newly planted garden in front of the house that he allowed a smile to break the stoic mask on his face. It was simple really, one-touch from his hands caused a ghostly chill to pass through any living subject. This had meant near-instant death for the flowers the realtor had planted just a week ago.
He had no doubt that the realtor was here to give the newest owner the keys to the place and perhaps assure her once more that the house was not, in fact, haunted. The other car approached, and Cameron took the time to float down to the main floor. If someone was to move in, Cameron at least wanted to see them up close.
sereiin
Member
The attractive little house had caught Sofia's eye the instant she saw it advertised online. That day, she had only been mindlessly scrolling through several ads on a lunch break at her old job, not really focused on finding a home more than simply having something to do. But she'd found this house on the third page of the listing site. It was perfect for her. Run-down enough to give her plenty of creative opportunities to fix it up, but not falling apart to the point where the roof might cave in any day. Besides that, the neighbourhood appeared relaxed and quiet and the listing price had been... almost unbelievable. Sof had called that very day to ask about it and she had received a rather interesting answer: the price was so low because the house was supposedly haunted and filled with rumours of its going ons. "Ghosts? Sofia had laughed, rolling her eyes to herself through the phone. "I'm sure it's nothing. Besides, ghosts aren't real."
A month later and the day had come for her to collect the keys to the beautiful little house and officially move herself in. Sofia was ecstatic to finally have a place to call her own. One she had bought with her own money. Gone were the days of renting. As she pulled up behind the realtor's vehicle in her VW Golf, her brown eyes took in the sight of her new home, sitting in all of its blue glory in the afternoon sun. It looked even better than person, especially knowing she would soon be receiving the keys. Sof cut the engine once she had come to a stop behind the brightly coloured bug that belonged to the realtor. She was an interesting woman, to say the least, but Sofia didn't mind her. She'd held a tough job trying to sell this house.
After calming her excited nerves, the young woman grabbed her purse from the passenger seat and then climbed out from the driver's side, locking her car behind her. This was it. Time to move in. "Fuck yes," she mumbled to herself, trying to fight the smile that threatened to burst onto her face. She couldn't believe the day had finally come. "Hey, Mrs. Walberg," she greeted, calling out to the realtor who was currently stopped three quarters of the way up the front walkway. Raising a brow, Sof approached her slowly, wondering what was wrong. It was only when she sidled up to the middle aged woman that she understood what she was looking at. The flowers in the flowerbed were dead.
"I planted these a week ago, I'm not sure what happened," Mrs. Walberg rushed to say, clearly panicked that her client wouldn't be impressed. But Sofia couldn't have cared less. So what? The flowers had died; she could always plant new ones. Besides, it would give her something to do right away. With a smile on her face, she shook her head. "It must have been the deer. Come on, it's fine. I'll plant new ones later." She shrugged, watching as the realtor finally gave in and quit her worrying. Once she'd turned her back to lead the rest of the way up the stairs, Sofia rolled her eyes to herself. Did people genuinely suffer heart attacks when they saw dead flowers? Didn't they know not everything lived forever?
Ten minutes (and lots of talking on Mrs. Walberg's end) later, the realtor was finally peeling away from the curb in her bug. Sofia watched from the front door, a wide smile painted across her lips. In her hand were the keys to the house, the keys that signified it was finally hers. How good it felt to hold them. After several moments passed, the girl eventually stepped back into the foyer, closing the front door behind her. She had several things to unpack that she had brought with her in her car, but the moving van wasn't set to arrive for a little while yet. Figuring now was as good a time as any, Sof decided to explore her new home, starting with the living room.
A month later and the day had come for her to collect the keys to the beautiful little house and officially move herself in. Sofia was ecstatic to finally have a place to call her own. One she had bought with her own money. Gone were the days of renting. As she pulled up behind the realtor's vehicle in her VW Golf, her brown eyes took in the sight of her new home, sitting in all of its blue glory in the afternoon sun. It looked even better than person, especially knowing she would soon be receiving the keys. Sof cut the engine once she had come to a stop behind the brightly coloured bug that belonged to the realtor. She was an interesting woman, to say the least, but Sofia didn't mind her. She'd held a tough job trying to sell this house.
After calming her excited nerves, the young woman grabbed her purse from the passenger seat and then climbed out from the driver's side, locking her car behind her. This was it. Time to move in. "Fuck yes," she mumbled to herself, trying to fight the smile that threatened to burst onto her face. She couldn't believe the day had finally come. "Hey, Mrs. Walberg," she greeted, calling out to the realtor who was currently stopped three quarters of the way up the front walkway. Raising a brow, Sof approached her slowly, wondering what was wrong. It was only when she sidled up to the middle aged woman that she understood what she was looking at. The flowers in the flowerbed were dead.
"I planted these a week ago, I'm not sure what happened," Mrs. Walberg rushed to say, clearly panicked that her client wouldn't be impressed. But Sofia couldn't have cared less. So what? The flowers had died; she could always plant new ones. Besides, it would give her something to do right away. With a smile on her face, she shook her head. "It must have been the deer. Come on, it's fine. I'll plant new ones later." She shrugged, watching as the realtor finally gave in and quit her worrying. Once she'd turned her back to lead the rest of the way up the stairs, Sofia rolled her eyes to herself. Did people genuinely suffer heart attacks when they saw dead flowers? Didn't they know not everything lived forever?
Ten minutes (and lots of talking on Mrs. Walberg's end) later, the realtor was finally peeling away from the curb in her bug. Sofia watched from the front door, a wide smile painted across her lips. In her hand were the keys to the house, the keys that signified it was finally hers. How good it felt to hold them. After several moments passed, the girl eventually stepped back into the foyer, closing the front door behind her. She had several things to unpack that she had brought with her in her car, but the moving van wasn't set to arrive for a little while yet. Figuring now was as good a time as any, Sof decided to explore her new home, starting with the living room.
zippy
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The young woman stepped out her car looking fairly excited, much to Cameron's disappointment. He had hoped that she would be more apprehensive or on edge. She seemed to even have some pep in her step, and he frowned when she waved aside the dead flowers. Didn't she watch any horror movies? Dead flowers were a bad omen, especially in a haunted house. Though Mrs. Wallberg was definitely perturbed by the sight, bringing him a cruel sense of satisfaction. The new owner's lack of reaction was annoying, sure, but not at all disheartening. People who chose to move into his home tended to be the stubborn type. The faint of heart went running the second they heard "haunted" or "ghosts". The stubborn were all the same: proclaiming that ghosts aren't real, but crumbling after a few weeks of Cameron punishing them for interrupting his eternal peace.
Cameron hovered nearby but just out of reach, impatiently eavesdropping on their conversation. It was a whole bunch of nothing, and he had to fight the urge to visualize behind the realtor and send her screaming out of the house. Sure, it'd be pretty effective in scaring the living daylights out of the two women, but where was the fun? Cameron had to admit that he was missing that "human touch" in his life. It'd been some time since he was able to fully terrorize someone (outside of Mrs. Wallberg, but she was frightened by her own shadow), so in a strange way he was glad that someone new was going to be around.
As they spoke, Cameron watched as the purse she'd carried in was set down. His normally dull brown eyes glittered with excitement. He had a plan of attack that involved playing things slowly, messing with her in small ways that would hopefully make her feel uneasy, but not exactly terrified. When she turned her back to watch Mrs.Wallberg leave, he took the opportunity to lift the purse and carry it up the stairs. He was just solid enough to interact with the object, but still weightless enough to make no noise at all as he rifled through her belongings. It didn't take long for him to locate what he was looking for--her ID. Making note of the name, Cameron discarded the purse on the floor before easing back downstairs and out onto the front porch just before she closed the door. He gave her sometime to look around the living room, but not enough. Less than a minute passed before he rang the doorbell.
โYou shouldnโt have moved in here,โ he greeted when she opened the door, not waiting for her to speak first. โThey say itโs haunted, Sofia.โ
There was an aggressive edge to his voice, and an uneasy air about him. He was present now and fully visible, arms crossed as he looked her up and down. His expression could be easily summarized as unimpressed. He wore a crisp, long sleeved white button down with the sleeves neatly rolled to his elbows. It wasnโt tucked into his blue jeans, something Sofia would notice if her eyes followed the movement of his hand to his pocket.
โArenโt you afraid of the ghosts?โ A hint of a smile played at his lips. He was toying with her now.
Cameron hovered nearby but just out of reach, impatiently eavesdropping on their conversation. It was a whole bunch of nothing, and he had to fight the urge to visualize behind the realtor and send her screaming out of the house. Sure, it'd be pretty effective in scaring the living daylights out of the two women, but where was the fun? Cameron had to admit that he was missing that "human touch" in his life. It'd been some time since he was able to fully terrorize someone (outside of Mrs. Wallberg, but she was frightened by her own shadow), so in a strange way he was glad that someone new was going to be around.
As they spoke, Cameron watched as the purse she'd carried in was set down. His normally dull brown eyes glittered with excitement. He had a plan of attack that involved playing things slowly, messing with her in small ways that would hopefully make her feel uneasy, but not exactly terrified. When she turned her back to watch Mrs.Wallberg leave, he took the opportunity to lift the purse and carry it up the stairs. He was just solid enough to interact with the object, but still weightless enough to make no noise at all as he rifled through her belongings. It didn't take long for him to locate what he was looking for--her ID. Making note of the name, Cameron discarded the purse on the floor before easing back downstairs and out onto the front porch just before she closed the door. He gave her sometime to look around the living room, but not enough. Less than a minute passed before he rang the doorbell.
โYou shouldnโt have moved in here,โ he greeted when she opened the door, not waiting for her to speak first. โThey say itโs haunted, Sofia.โ
There was an aggressive edge to his voice, and an uneasy air about him. He was present now and fully visible, arms crossed as he looked her up and down. His expression could be easily summarized as unimpressed. He wore a crisp, long sleeved white button down with the sleeves neatly rolled to his elbows. It wasnโt tucked into his blue jeans, something Sofia would notice if her eyes followed the movement of his hand to his pocket.
โArenโt you afraid of the ghosts?โ A hint of a smile played at his lips. He was toying with her now.
sereiin
Member
Sofia didn't notice her purse missing as she went to explore the living room, her phone tucked into her hand. There wasn't much to see, really, considering her furniture would be coming later and the room was currently empty, but it didn't matter. This place was hers and that in itself made exploring it again exciting. The girl hummed to herself as she walked around, her shoe-clad feet echoing through the empty room. It was the only sound in the house until the doorbell suddenly rang. The noise startled her instantly, causing her to gasp slightly as she whirled around. Had the realtor forgotten something?
Furrowing her brows to herself, she made her way to the front door and peeked through the side window to see who was there. But it wasn't Mrs. Walberg. It was a young man, one she had never seen before. Assuming it could be a new neighbour, Sofia smiled to herself and moved to open the door for him. As she pulled it open, however, he welcomed with her with a rather odd greeting. She rose a brow at him, looking him up and down as she contemplated an answer. He was good looking, she couldn't deny that, and a few inches taller than herself. From the looks of him, she could only guess he was about the same age as she was. Then he spoke again, this time using her name. Sof instantly froze. "How do you know my name?" She questioned lowly, her eyes catching on his brown ones.
The young woman sensed a cold air around him, as if he held the personality of an iceberg, but it only suited the way he looked and the way he somehow knew her first name. He was creepy and apparently stalkerish, too. Unless he had somehow heard Mrs. Walberg greet her half an hour ago when she'd arrived to collect her keys. Yeah, surely that was it. The realtor was a loud woman; it wouldn't take much for a neighbour to overhear anything she said. Comforted by the assumption, Sofia rose a brow up at the man, having not missed the way his eyes ran up and down her form. It sent a brief shiver racing along her spine, but she hid it as best she could.
"You know, it's hard to be afraid of something you don't believe in," the brunette spoke now, smirking and rolling her eyes as if this stranger was full of bullshit. He sort of was. Did he mean he actually believed in the rumours claiming her new home to be haunted? How ridiculous.
"You must be my new neighbour." Sofia held out a hand along with her statement, her brown eyes sparkling with amusement as she waited for him to shake her head. "So, neighbour, what's your name?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at him again as she allowed herself to take in his appearance once more. This time, she noticed his untucked dress shirt and she internally frowned to herself. Didn't men normally like to wear their shirts tucked in? Who knew; she definitely didn't considering she wasn't a man.
Furrowing her brows to herself, she made her way to the front door and peeked through the side window to see who was there. But it wasn't Mrs. Walberg. It was a young man, one she had never seen before. Assuming it could be a new neighbour, Sofia smiled to herself and moved to open the door for him. As she pulled it open, however, he welcomed with her with a rather odd greeting. She rose a brow at him, looking him up and down as she contemplated an answer. He was good looking, she couldn't deny that, and a few inches taller than herself. From the looks of him, she could only guess he was about the same age as she was. Then he spoke again, this time using her name. Sof instantly froze. "How do you know my name?" She questioned lowly, her eyes catching on his brown ones.
The young woman sensed a cold air around him, as if he held the personality of an iceberg, but it only suited the way he looked and the way he somehow knew her first name. He was creepy and apparently stalkerish, too. Unless he had somehow heard Mrs. Walberg greet her half an hour ago when she'd arrived to collect her keys. Yeah, surely that was it. The realtor was a loud woman; it wouldn't take much for a neighbour to overhear anything she said. Comforted by the assumption, Sofia rose a brow up at the man, having not missed the way his eyes ran up and down her form. It sent a brief shiver racing along her spine, but she hid it as best she could.
"You know, it's hard to be afraid of something you don't believe in," the brunette spoke now, smirking and rolling her eyes as if this stranger was full of bullshit. He sort of was. Did he mean he actually believed in the rumours claiming her new home to be haunted? How ridiculous.
"You must be my new neighbour." Sofia held out a hand along with her statement, her brown eyes sparkling with amusement as she waited for him to shake her head. "So, neighbour, what's your name?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at him again as she allowed herself to take in his appearance once more. This time, she noticed his untucked dress shirt and she internally frowned to herself. Didn't men normally like to wear their shirts tucked in? Who knew; she definitely didn't considering she wasn't a man.
zippy
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His grin only widened at her stiffened posture. Apparently the more uncomfortable she seemed, the more amused Cameron became. Perhaps it was a bit childish, being so bent on terrorizing the young woman. The critique didn't bother him in the slightest. Why should he be worried about growing up when he couldn't even grow up? He was perfectly content with his obnoxiously childish antics. "Word gets around quickly you'll come to find. More importantly, nothing tends to get past me," he answered curtly. Though his words were abrupt and his tone harsh, it was still quite obvious that he was enjoying messing with her.
Her next words, however, wiped the smile clean off of his face. In fact, Cameron almost looked... angry? A maliciousness reflected in his harsh glare, though he was careful to not make any threatening gestures. Her smirk felt like a slap to his face. She didn't believe in ghosts? Well, he would certainly take his time to make her regret that statement. It was hard to not take her disbelief personally. She and everyone else who thought the rumors were just a silly joke. After all, if they were a joke then Cameron himself was a joke, and the ghost tended to take himself quite seriously.
"Disbelief won't protect you from reality." His eyes flitted down to her outstretched hand, but rather than shaking it he maneuvered around her. Sure she hadn't actually invited him inside, but Cameron wasn't really concerned with appearing nice. After all, it was his house. He should've been the one inviting her inside. Or more realistically, turning her away and getting back to work. "My name is Cameron. No need to stare, I know I'm fairly gorgeous," he answered slowly, meandering further into the living room. He looked around fondly, though slightly disappointed at the state of the place. Dust blanketed nearly every surface, and cobwebs every corner. It would definitely take some time and elbow grease to clean this place up.
After taking his sweet time to nose around the living room, Cameron stopped and pointed a finger up at the ceiling. "The original homeowner died in that room upstairs. Pretty gnarly stuff. Unsettled spirits with a vengeance? Only a fool would buy a home with those stipulations." He glanced back in Sofia's direction, the disproving expression fixed on his face again.
"Not to call you stupid, though you might be. Or perhaps just... prideful? What profession could make a woman doubt the supernatural?" he asked dismissively, only half caring about her answer.
Her next words, however, wiped the smile clean off of his face. In fact, Cameron almost looked... angry? A maliciousness reflected in his harsh glare, though he was careful to not make any threatening gestures. Her smirk felt like a slap to his face. She didn't believe in ghosts? Well, he would certainly take his time to make her regret that statement. It was hard to not take her disbelief personally. She and everyone else who thought the rumors were just a silly joke. After all, if they were a joke then Cameron himself was a joke, and the ghost tended to take himself quite seriously.
"Disbelief won't protect you from reality." His eyes flitted down to her outstretched hand, but rather than shaking it he maneuvered around her. Sure she hadn't actually invited him inside, but Cameron wasn't really concerned with appearing nice. After all, it was his house. He should've been the one inviting her inside. Or more realistically, turning her away and getting back to work. "My name is Cameron. No need to stare, I know I'm fairly gorgeous," he answered slowly, meandering further into the living room. He looked around fondly, though slightly disappointed at the state of the place. Dust blanketed nearly every surface, and cobwebs every corner. It would definitely take some time and elbow grease to clean this place up.
After taking his sweet time to nose around the living room, Cameron stopped and pointed a finger up at the ceiling. "The original homeowner died in that room upstairs. Pretty gnarly stuff. Unsettled spirits with a vengeance? Only a fool would buy a home with those stipulations." He glanced back in Sofia's direction, the disproving expression fixed on his face again.
"Not to call you stupid, though you might be. Or perhaps just... prideful? What profession could make a woman doubt the supernatural?" he asked dismissively, only half caring about her answer.
sereiin
Member
Why this man looked so angry to learn she didn't believe in ghosts was beyond Sofia, but she brushed it aside for now. Maybe he was some crazy ghost hunter who lived to chase rumours of haunted houses and she had just shattered his dreams. Who knew. She sure as hell didn't, but she didn't care to find out either. He was simply some random stranger who had shown up on her door uninvited, though that probably made her sound like a bitch. After all, he was a neighbour who was probably just trying to welcome her to the neighbourhood, in his own sort of rude way.
But when Sofia extended a hand to introduce herself, she was extremely annoyed to see him look at her hand before moving around her and right into her own home. Eyes widening, the girl whirled around, her hands landing on her hips as she glared at his back. "Wow, rude and cocky. I'm so pleased to know you're my new neighbour," she retorted sarcastically, her tone cold as ice. Who did this guy think he was? The King of Scotland? He sure was acting like it with the way he walked into her house uninvited as if he owned the place. Angered, Sof shut the front door before hurrying after him, not wanting him to touch anything that wasn't his. Of course, it wasn't as if there was much of anything in here to begin with.
A minute or two later, Cameron came to a stop in the living room and Sofia watched as he pointed to the ceiling. What a joke. Crossing her arms over her chest, she raised her brows at him. "Only a fool," she repeated lowly, "would believe that means ghosts haunt this house." With her eyes narrowed, she noticed the look on his face as he looked back at her again. What he said next earned him a dark glare.
"I don't think it's any of your business what I do for work. Especially not after you walked into my home uninvited. What are you, crazy?" Sofia spat in annoyance, taking a slow step closer to the man and raising a brow. She couldn't believe Cameron's audacity, but she'd be damned if she let him get away with it. The closer she looked at him, though, the more she began to wonder if there was something really off with him. He was a strict believer in ghosts and haunted houses and he had no issues walking right into someone else's house despite not having received permission to do so. Was he clinically insane? "Great, I've got a psycho as a neighbour," Sof grumbled to herself in a whisper, pissed that this was what her life had come to. She'd moved to get a new start with her new job, but it hadn't exactly started out too well.
Sighing, the woman let her gaze settle on Cameron once more, realizing they had been silent for a moment. "I think it's time you go. I have better things to do than stand here talking to the likes of you," she stated, uncrossing her arms and placing her hands back onto her hips as she stared him down, daring him to counter her comment. She was sure he would still try, though.
But when Sofia extended a hand to introduce herself, she was extremely annoyed to see him look at her hand before moving around her and right into her own home. Eyes widening, the girl whirled around, her hands landing on her hips as she glared at his back. "Wow, rude and cocky. I'm so pleased to know you're my new neighbour," she retorted sarcastically, her tone cold as ice. Who did this guy think he was? The King of Scotland? He sure was acting like it with the way he walked into her house uninvited as if he owned the place. Angered, Sof shut the front door before hurrying after him, not wanting him to touch anything that wasn't his. Of course, it wasn't as if there was much of anything in here to begin with.
A minute or two later, Cameron came to a stop in the living room and Sofia watched as he pointed to the ceiling. What a joke. Crossing her arms over her chest, she raised her brows at him. "Only a fool," she repeated lowly, "would believe that means ghosts haunt this house." With her eyes narrowed, she noticed the look on his face as he looked back at her again. What he said next earned him a dark glare.
"I don't think it's any of your business what I do for work. Especially not after you walked into my home uninvited. What are you, crazy?" Sofia spat in annoyance, taking a slow step closer to the man and raising a brow. She couldn't believe Cameron's audacity, but she'd be damned if she let him get away with it. The closer she looked at him, though, the more she began to wonder if there was something really off with him. He was a strict believer in ghosts and haunted houses and he had no issues walking right into someone else's house despite not having received permission to do so. Was he clinically insane? "Great, I've got a psycho as a neighbour," Sof grumbled to herself in a whisper, pissed that this was what her life had come to. She'd moved to get a new start with her new job, but it hadn't exactly started out too well.
Sighing, the woman let her gaze settle on Cameron once more, realizing they had been silent for a moment. "I think it's time you go. I have better things to do than stand here talking to the likes of you," she stated, uncrossing her arms and placing her hands back onto her hips as she stared him down, daring him to counter her comment. She was sure he would still try, though.
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