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7 yrs ago
When you want to pick up more roleplays but you can't because responsibilities ):
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7 yrs ago
When you’re on constant refresh for replies 😭😭😭
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7 yrs ago
I feel like a pile of steaming dog shit. Will get replies out when I’m feeling a little better.
9 yrs ago
To my partners: Going to have to go on hiatus; life's being a bitch. Apologies.
9 yrs ago
Impromptu vacay! Sorry for any delays to come xx

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In ASPECT 6 yrs ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay



There were plenty of things Cam had learned about Jack in their short time together.

Don’t ask about family.
Silence was next to godliness.
Always have alcohol on hand.

But amongst everything else, she’d learned that his touches were rare, especially ones in moments such as this where he wasn’t shoving her out of the way or tugging on her clothes to keep her from traipsing into a dangerous situation. Her eyes went wide as she felt a gentle brush against the skin of her face, moving to graze her ear, before the moment left altogether. That was enough to tell Camilla that Jack was, in fact, not okay. But there was no time to comment on it, and perhaps that was for the better. He quietly commented on her plans later in the day and she offered a snort.

Boys were easier to deal with. They didn’t have baggage and there wasn’t any want for her to lay in bed to cuddle the next day. They were straightforward and honest; Cam didn’t care if they had a girlfriend or a wife at home, knowing full well that who she slept with had business of their own that didn’t involve her. It was just one more easy way to remind herself that they weren’t worth shit. That she could love them and leave them, but past that it wasn’t anything. What was something was that she had a partnership and a job, neither of which could be detracted from.

No, she didn’t need a man. The boys were just fine.

Cam pushed herself up off the ground as Jack spoke about what they’d encountered, chewing on her lip once more. She didn’t claim to have much knowledge about diagnosing the problems they encountered, but she did like to figure out how to fix the issue.

She could aim a gun and she could type a few key words into Google. That would be enough, she hoped. Cam swatted at her backside, wiping any dirt away that hadn’t settled into the threads of her jeans, and began moving towards the Mustang. She scowled as Jack once more commented on her boots but she said nothing as she threw open one of the doors. ”I always have beer.” If not for her, then for Jack. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out they liked their alcohol, and perhaps one of them more than the other.

But what business of hers was Jack’s vices? He wasn’t stumbling around their jobs, unable to focus or walk in a straight line. His reflexes had been better than hers in the house, something that Cam could recall in vivid detail. Perhaps a few sips of whiskey could help dull that memory. ”And Motrin. It wouldn’t hurt, considering you’re a little on the old side anyway.” It would help with any pain he’d experience from being thrown from the house, though she couldn’t guarantee it would take it completely away.

Cam adjusted in her seat, stretching by pulling herself and twisting on either side of the leather clad interior. Her eye caught sight of Jack’s familiar duffle bag. It was open and Cam’s brows furrowed. While she preferred to grab a short-term apartment or motel room when they moved, he didn’t seem to share the same sentiment. A picture made her stare a bit more than she normally would have, looking over the beautiful woman and little girl in the picture.

She said nothing as she turned back, swallowing harshly as a lump of emotion gathered in her throat. They all had families, whether they were left behind or if they were no longer living. Was it so surprising that Jack had lost people along the way?

The trip back to her apartment was quick and quiet, with Cam’s arms crossed over her chest and her lips pressed together. If he wanted to talk about them, he would on his own time. No amount of questioning could pull information from the man and it was likely to piss him off more than anything.

It would her if the situation was reversed and he was trying to figure her out.

When they were parked again, Cam swung from the Mustang and stretched. Tiredness was quickly sweeping over her but there was little to be done. She didn’t have a choice but to struggle onward, she thought as she pulled her keys out of her jacket pocket. Her fingers quickly found the familiar key that would allow her access to her modest home and, when she reached the door, she unlocked it and pushed it open.

The apartment was relatively bare, with a modern desk that held a laptop and notebook, accompanied by an office chair, a bed with plain, rumpled navy sheets, and a moderately sized TV. ”Help yourself,” Cam said as she toed off her boots, shoving them away before entering the kitchen. It was barely bigger than a closet but it had all the essentials, including a full sized refrigerator. She opened the door and sighed, scanning the sparse contents before grabbing two bottles of beer.

The woman grabbed the magnetic bottle opener that stayed on the freezer door and popped both of the glass containers, offering one to Jack before travelling to her bed. She took a big swig of her own beer and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before sitting roughly on the bed. She pulled her legs under her, crossing them before she took another drink.

”So, let’s talk about this. Give me some ideas and let’s brainstorm before I search ghost and demon and abnormal behavior into a search engine.”


In ASPECT 6 yrs ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay



”What’s wrong with my shoes?”

Camilla looked down as she stepped in the house, her brows furrowing. The boots were made of durable leather, having dealt the brunt of some of her worst days as a hunter. Even now she could imagine them coated with blood and mud as she attempted to scramble away from a wendigo or watch them cautiously as they skirted around a circle of crystalline salt. Perhaps she didn’t take the most meticulous care of them, but they were one of the things she owned that were truly hers. She didn’t have a home to return to consistently, a car or a dog, but the boots were solidly and definitively hers. Jack hadn’t meant anything by it, though, and she supposed that she was being sensitive.

It had offered him enough time to slide by her, pulling her jacket and causing her to stay behind Jack. Cam could only offer his silent shushing with a quiet nod of her own, taking the gun from its resting place and grasping it firmly in her palms. It didn’t take long for them to start sweating, which dismayed her; it didn’t seem to get easier, despite how many cases she worked. She kept the pistol at hip level, her eyes wide and searching back and forth as they progressed through the house.

The smell of sulfur got worse and Cam’s nose wrinkled. ”Christ Almighty,” she offered, looking towards Jack. He didn’t seem as affected by it, or if he was, he didn’t mind it nearly as much as she did. Perhaps the amount of alcohol he’d imbibed had dulled his senses, she thought hastily, but not before they moved through the house and towards the upper floor. The rest of the home didn’t look well lived in, with a few pieces of furniture placed haphazardly. Some were askew, as if they had been pushed aside without much thought. Cam’s brows furrowed once more as she looked around, studying everything.

If she’d had time, maybe she would have found herself resting on the couch with her feet on a table while watching TV. It reminded her of some days with Peter, when he was well enough to stay awake during a movie marathon. Her expression softened slightly at the thought of her brother, but a touch on her back caused her reverie to break. The touch trailed down, burning movements until it rested on her ass. But it was difficult to focus on it when Jack’s voice escaped beside her. Cam jumped; she hadn’t heard a squeak upstairs to suggest someone was up there and waiting, but it was eerie here.

That small jump was nothing in comparison to the startle Camilla experienced when she caught sight of the sickly woman staring at them. The woman released her grip on the pistol, trying to steady herself as the ground beneath her shook. The empty hand reached towards Jack, grabbing onto his upper arm. Her hip bumped into his and she felt her chest graze against his. The arm that had held the pistol promptly dropped it, using her newly free grip to steady herself against Jack, her fingers gripping at his jacket.

But truly before she could recover her footing, she was shoved away. It wasn’t that she appreciated it – which she did – but that rendered her completely useless. No sooner had she landed on the floor had the woman thrown Jack away, as if he’d been a crumpled piece of paper. Cam looked up, but not before scurrying back as quickly as possible on all fours. Her boots slid as she tried to gain traction but it didn’t seem to moving her at all; she didn’t even have a weapon! Her blue eyes, wide with fear, attempted to move towards the gun when she caught sight of the woman. Her soulless stare locked on Cam but she disappeared as the hunter began to move again.

Her chest was heaving in terror and Cam tried to catch her breath as she reached for the gun that she’d discarded. She steadied herself on a nearby wall, pushing herself up off the ground before stowing the pistol back in her belt line. The woman moved to the door, leaving the dangerous confines of the house for the open area of the lawn. ”Figured out what happened to that window, too,” Cam said wryly, collapsing beside Jack. ”What are we supposed to do? I didn’t bring the rites and I don’t know them off the top of my head. I used to be a good Catholic, but never like that.”

Cam sighed, letting herself look up at the sky. ”I could manage a heptagram, but it would take me time. And I’m sure you have salt-loaded bullets somewhere, but do we want to harm the host?” It wasn’t that poor woman’s fault that she’d been possessed… or so Cam hoped. And if they killed her, they wouldn’t be able to glean any information about the missing boy. ”I’m at a loss, Jack. And I’m refusin’ to go back into that house until we work somethin’ out. I’ve got a date tonight with a boy prettier than you at the bar and I have every intention of bein’ there.”

She looked over to Jack and lifted up, resting her palms on the ground as her eyes surveyed her partner. But that woman in the house... her eyes hadn't been black, had they? Cam's brows furrowed and she chewed on her bottom lip again before offering her concerns. "You okay?"
In ASPECT 6 yrs ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay



It was difficult for Camilla not to roll her eyes, or to comment on Jack’s gruffness. By no means did she consider herself a Chatty Cathy, and she believed herself far from annoying. Asking Jack, though, perhaps would allow for a different story. His quick words, full of forthright irritation from her nonsensical comments, caused Camilla not to recoil but instead to cross her arms over her chest, pressing full lips together in something that almost resembled a pout. Her eyes stayed straight, looking out the windshield as her partner moved behind her seat and… well, somewhere else. The woman wriggled down in her seat, keeping her arms over her chest, until curiosity finally got the best of her.

The corner of her mouth turned up in a slight snarl but she said nothing, schooling her features into one of neutrality as he carelessly dropped food into her lap. She supposed she appreciated the gesture, knowing that he’d actually had to put thought into getting food for her. Cam offered him an unhappy look but nothing else as she ungraciously tore into the English muffin, viciously tearing off a piece with her teeth. It was quickly followed up with a gulp of coffee, which caused the woman to grimace, but she said nothing. In fact, she kept quiet for the remainder of the short journey, pleased that it hadn’t taken long at all to arrive.

Her blue eyes narrowed as Jack looked to her, his words clearly hiding a meaning. But what was it? She readjusted herself in the seat, leaning forward and causing hair to spill over her shoulder. Cam’s brows furrowed as she looked back to him but she said nothing. This didn’t exactly look like a house she would want to buy, and it would be assumed that if someone was so worried about their son, they too would be worried about presenting their house – still on the market – the best they could. That was hardly the case here, and no woman seemed to be running around or searching for a lost child.

Cam startled as a loud noise released from nearby, causing the hunter to look back to Jack. Something was certainly amiss, though it was difficult to tell from here. Her fingers pulled at the door when the Mustang was put in park, but she held it ajar as Jack’s voice rumbled throughout the small space. ”Fuck me, I’ll need something.” she muttered before finally moving. The rough material of her jeans slid easily over the car’s leather seat as she went to stand, though she didn’t move from the Mustang completely as she looked over the top of the vehicle and onto the house in front of them.

No, she would certainly need some type of weapon. It was foolish of her to not bring something, as her companion had, but he always seemed prepared. It was interesting, considering the amount of alcohol he seemed to drink. Already she could smell the stale liquor on his breath from the night prior, but what did it matter if he was sober now and more prepared than she? Cam shut the door behind her as she travelled to the trunk, digging into her jacket pocket as she searched for the keys. ”Old ass car,” she muttered, fidgeting with them as she searched for the right one.

When the trunk popped open, Cam was met with a shine of weapons. The girl hummed slightly as she ran her fingers lightly over a rifle; she had an affinity for it, but it wasn’t appropriate in a short-range situation such as in this house. Perhaps they wouldn’t find anything… she continued with the made-up melody as she took a pistol, checking the chamber before sliding it into the posterior waistband of her jeans. Quickly, Cam grabbed some bullets before shutting the trunk and moving towards the broken window.

She looked in, finding nothing that looked completely out of the ordinary. The house looked lived in, as far as she was concerned. It was neat, but none of the furniture was covered with sheets. It looked modern enough, nothing that would suggest an old woman that was lonely and conjuring up her recently dead husband. Cam harrumphed before sticking her hands in her front jean pockets and moved towards Jack. With a quick shrug in his direction, she looked around. ”Not sure I’m interested, with that broken window. Rest of the place seems kept up.” Cam chewed lightly on her bottom lip. ”Garage is nice and big.”

Cam took a few steps forward, her boots clicking on the dry cement of the garage floor. ”You could put two of your cars in here, huh? But I swore Mrs. DuBois said something about a family bein’ here.” She advanced once more, grimacing as she smelt a hint of sulfur in the air. ”Must not have cleaned well,” Cam continued, ”smells like rotten eggs.” She shot a look back to Jack, her eyes shimmering slightly with worry.

If it were straightforward enough to be a demon, they could deal with that. She would prefer it, actually. But anything else… she wasn’t equipped for it. There wasn’t any prior research she’d done on the house, or on the family that lived here. But what she did know was that there was something awry in this house. Her hand reached towards the interior door, grabbing the knob and turning it. ”Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.” She turned her head over her shoulder, a smile spreading across her features. ”Comin’?”

The smell wasn't that much stronger as she entered the house, and for that Cam was thankful. The house was dark, however, and the atmosphere cloying and thick. Something had happened here, as much as she'd wished it otherwise. Where was the woman who had called Jack? She, at least, should be here. The garage door had opened, and surely someone would have had to open it. But that nagging feeling in Cam's chest knew she was asking all of the wrong questions.

In ASPECT 6 yrs ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay



All. Fucking. Night.

That’s how long Camilla’d been awake. She’d just laid down when a chime sounded from her phone. The woman grumbled and palmed around on her bedside table until she found the device. The screen, a bright fluorescent, burned her tired eyes and deep blue eyes squinted as she focused on the small words of a text message.

Pick me up.

Maybe if he was drunk enough he’d kill them on the way. It would be a blessing, Cam thought as she threw off the sheets she’d just recently warmed. The skin on her arms pebbled as the colder air hit them once more and the hunter pulled off her tank top before searching for the bra she’d just discarded. Her arms bent almost unnaturally and her sternum cracked, causing her to grimace. Camilla quickly dressed in a clean, white T-shirt and skinny jeans, rezipping the black boots before reapplying her black leather jacket.

21 Ashmore Avenue. Cam’s brows furrowed as she tried to place the address. She’d been in this town long enough to figure out the general areas, but this one didn’t sound familiar. Of course, she hadn’t spent much time touring. Fighting, hunting, shooting, sneaking… she could have used a plethora of verbs to describe her time here. But amongst those words she could choose, ‘pleasant’ wouldn’t be included. Neither would it describe her working experience with Jack, but that couldn’t be helped.

For the longest time she’d preferred to hunt alone. Technically, she supposed she still did, but it was too dangerous. But he was experienced, or at least seemed to be, and that was enough. No one would take the place of Peter and she was more than keen to make sure Jack knew that, but it wouldn’t matter. They had jobs to do and none of that mentioned in-fighting. Hunters had enough to worry about without arguing who wanted what. She trusted him just enough to watch her back, and that would be enough.

Camilla rolled her shoulders, running a hand through long, dark hair. Thin strands had begun to fall around her features, highlighting high cheekbones and a heart-shaped face. She blew a puff of air up, hoping to move it away completely, while tilting her head towards the window. Listening to the tell-tale sounds of an arriving muscle car was more difficult than usual, thanks to the red brick that encased the apartment building.

Her eyes moved towards her bed, wondering if she would possess enough awareness to close her eyes and not fall asleep; it was unlikely, Camilla decided, and it would perhaps be better to loiter outside. She took a few short steps, gathering her phone and keys, before locking the door and quickly descending the stairs to the lobby. Pale, lithe fingers pushed the door to the outside open and her boots clicked softly on the pavement as she walked onto the sidewalk.

She pushed her hands into one of the jacket pockets, feeling the rectangular shape of a lighter there. It was a comfort, though it was nothing like the rush of nicotine that often accompanied it. Cam pulled it out, flicking the top off and quickly moving to summon a flame. The woman’s eyes watched as it waved back and forth before she heard the familiar rumble of a Mustang.

She closed the lighter and shoved it away, hiding it deep within the recesses of clothing before she moved towards the car. Attractive enough to intrigue her and with just enough issues to detract her, Jack seemed like the perfect partner. He was a little older than her, though not older enough to give her pause, and he seemed to know his shit. Cam opened the door and slid into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind her. ”What exactly does ‘a live one’ entail and when is someone not in hysterics?” she muttered, rubbing her eyes after closing the door.

What was it this time? Poltergeist, vampire, werewolf… demon. Nothing seemed to be preferable to the other, and it had become difficult to prepare for their calls. ”I’ve been up all night. Better be good,” she continued, sliding down into the seat. "Don’t tell me all you got was that her son was gone. Tell me that I don’t need to wear my fuckin’ pantsuit. Better yet, tell me this is bullshit and I can go back to sleep.”

Cam took a deep breath, her eyes moving towards the empty bottle of liquor nearby, before refocusing in front of her. She didn't have any business getting into Jack's; she wasn't his mother or even his family, and if he wanted to drink his life away, so be it. As long as he could perform on the job, she didn't care. "This better not be an angry, frustrated teen trying to teach his mom a lesson, Dolson, or I swear to God you'll have another woman in hysterics on your hands."
In ASPECT 6 yrs ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay




Goes by Cam, only her parents calls her Camilla. It suits her, as she feels a stranger to them already.





28 | 5'8" | Raven | Sapphire

Born weak and human, Camilla searches to become something stronger.


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