[Damn, she's severely underdressed for this. Camille's exuding cusping gen x/millenial in a dark sweater and jeans with worn in ankle boots, and looks ever more out of place now that Laudna's dressed for the part.]
Hoping to make friends? [She approaches slowly with respectable distance. Now that she understands hauntings may be real, things are different.] I don't know that they're happy to see us.
Yeah. I uh, read your profile. [Surely the real Camille's high as a kite in a hospital bed downtown. That's no comfort to comatose hallucination Camille, who must be having these conversations.] Are you the raising the dead kind, or more into putting them to rest?
[One slow nod as she checks off another confirmed theory. Early fifties and partially putrefied, of course she's for real undead.
Good thing she had a long stare-down with the walls of the outhouse yesterday. The existential crisis has quieted in the anemic light of day, and she's able to broach the subject with only a minor roll of the stomach.]
That's interesting. [Her lips twitch. Brows furrow.] If I'm distracting you, let me know, but...is that what you wanted? Being raised?
[she definitely also doesn't look like a person in her early 50s. aside from the rotting corpse aspect, she doesn't look older than early 20s.]
I never asked to be raised, but I never asked to be killed, either. I'm not sure what I wanted had anything to do with that. I may as well ask if being born was what you wanted.
[That's what tipped her off. Even if there are other incongruous ages on the bulletin, she's the only one Camille's met thus far that comes with an undead aura.
She scoffs, but it's with a smile. Appreciative.]
You've got a point.
Is that why you put souls to rest? Giving them back some stolen peace?
Don't get me wrong. I'm not running around trying to perform a service. It just happens to be something I've encountered a few times. And once they tried to devour my landlady, and she was such a sweetheart, so I really didn't care for it.
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Hoping to make friends? [She approaches slowly with respectable distance. Now that she understands hauntings may be real, things are different.] I don't know that they're happy to see us.
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[knocking on one of the creepy haunted walls!]
I have a way with the dead.
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Yeah. I uh, read your profile. [Surely the real Camille's high as a kite in a hospital bed downtown. That's no comfort to comatose hallucination Camille, who must be having these conversations.] Are you the raising the dead kind, or more into putting them to rest?
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Well. I was raised, but besides that, putting them to rest seems more common.
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Good thing she had a long stare-down with the walls of the outhouse yesterday. The existential crisis has quieted in the anemic light of day, and she's able to broach the subject with only a minor roll of the stomach.]
That's interesting. [Her lips twitch. Brows furrow.] If I'm distracting you, let me know, but...is that what you wanted? Being raised?
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[she definitely also doesn't look like a person in her early 50s. aside from the rotting corpse aspect, she doesn't look older than early 20s.]
I never asked to be raised, but I never asked to be killed, either. I'm not sure what I wanted had anything to do with that. I may as well ask if being born was what you wanted.
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She scoffs, but it's with a smile. Appreciative.]
You've got a point.
Is that why you put souls to rest? Giving them back some stolen peace?
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Thank you for your service.
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[She raps her knuckles against the wall.]
What's your verdict here? Are we in danger? Or just going to be annoyed for a bit?
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[so. a very nice landlord.]
...Some of us are in danger. Or at least, that's the intention. But I don't know what to make of all of it.