“I Honestly Don’t Know What to Think” (O/O Closed)

Alright so my rules are simple, and this’ll be one of the last public RPs I probably make. So if you piss me off in literally any way possible, I know you as a poor RPer somehow, or I simply just… don’t like your style/the rules you implement in YOUR RPs, I will deny you entry of this RP. So don’t get shitty with me if I say no, or you’ll go down in my books as ‘Never even look at again’ book. I write smut and I expect smut, for it’s a glimpse of how mature you are and your level of writing. It will go into PMs and honestly might stay there.

Anyway…

Cameron Tobias Metzler lives in a quiet town in Russia, Izborsk. He expects and appreciates this life, after an eventful thirty-plus years of military service. He worked for the Cold War, in the middle of it around 1984, where he first joined the arms. In his prime days, he was a man who was considered very dangerous, despite being a soldier. He was stationed outside of his country, and stayed there for quite a while, doing quiet work for his country.

Well, thanks to that quiet work, after the war, he was still targeted as an enemy against the states. All of these years later, in 2020 of March, in the sleety, chilly month, a spy was sent out to attack and take him out. But the spy was figured out with the keen eyes of the older veteran, and very slowly they started to interact more as Cameron caught the other more often after their first interaction. Soon the spy found themselves wanting to be caught, and being extremely reluctant to take out their victim, like first ordered…

Cameron: Invalid Character

Cameron is bisexual and doesn’t lean in any way, so it’s up to you whether you want MxM or FxM

(bjöing)

(Ooo this looks cool, could I stalk?)

(yeah if anyone actually joins)

(I mean I’d be happy to join if you’d want, although I completely understand if you’d want someone else)

(I mean if you like it enough to stalk it I wouldn’t be opposed to letting you join. Just a small tip, though, and don’t take this the wrong way at all, but try and keep your word count up and I’d love to welcome you into this.)

(Yeah I totally understand (I wasn’t very proud of the last rp we did oof) About how much, roughly, would you prefer?)

(Lmao no worries I wasn’t really either. I would prefer at least a paragraph? I like to go off of what the other person gives me (say you give me five sentences/lines, and I’ll do my very best to replicate it. i like the same treatment so RPs don’t discourage me as much).)

(Lol, I do that too, and yeah I can totally do that. Also I hate to be ‘that person’ but I just realized I have to leave right now. I’ll be back in like two hours, but like I won’t take it personally if someone else wants to join and you choose them)

(oof well idk if anyone else that i want to join will join so no worries)

(Heyo I’m back, so sorry about that. I had planned to go to church later today but then my parents decided out of the blue we’d be going in the morning oof, and then to top it off we simply had to go to the store. As for my character, should I make him into a charcter thing or should I fill out a template for him or…?)

(Also how old would u prefer my dude to be?)

(lmao np mate!! it’s up to u, i already have a thing for Cameron because he was one of the first charries i made on this site. and since Cameron’s in his forties I’d prefer someone at least over thirty-five.)

(Lol awesome, I ended up making him when I was bored midday so that’s great, here he is: Invalid Character)

(lmao smells like olive oil? alright he’s amazing, I love him!)

(I’m going to update Cameron’s thing, hold on just a hot minute)

(Yeah lol that was all I could imagine him smelling like lmao)

(lmao well here he is!)

(Awesome! Also I love what you put in his hairstyle part lol)

(Thanks lmao. let me start us off in procrastination of studying)

(Oo yay, I can’t wait also that’s such a mood)

Cameron woke on a windy morning in March, stirring on his large king bed with a stretch and a yawn. It was pleasant, until about a couple seconds later a piercing squealing from his alarm clock woke him up. It was a small digital one, staring at him owlishly with its large ‘6:01 AM’ glaring at him. He smacked the thing until it shut up, and he swung his legs and sat up out of his bed. He had opted to wake up early this morning, for it was a gym and ‘stop being so goddamn lazy day and make breakfast for yourself’ day. It was a new lifestyle that Cameron was trying to implement and it really wasn’t working well for him. His job, which was just a quiet risk managing firm (which he felt much too big for all the time). It paid well, but there was a new influx of people coming in and out for experience. Cameron found himself at the gym more often to vent steam.

Yet in one of these days (for they did not make him blind), he noticed something particular. He realized that there was attention on him that had never been there before. He kept seeing the same person from afar, occasionally hastily looking away as if having been caught staring at him. Cameron had seen the other, but didn’t approach him yet. It could just be a coincidence, but Cameron wanted to decide otherwise.

After his morning routine of showering and cooking his breakfast, he walked out to his car with his gym bag, cuddling away into his jacket after putting his hood up.

Deimos still had a hard time adjusting to the time change, even after all these weeks of tracking. Or maybe he was just tired all the time, which wasn’t far from the truth in his old home. Tired or not, Deimos had an important job to do, so Deimos made himself get out of his bed at 5:30, on the dot. He swiftly got dressed and ready in his very minimalist apartment before heading out in the brisk morning air with a thick, black winter coat on. Deimos went out to his motocycle, parked and chained in the alleyway beside his dreary apartment complex. He slipped on his helmet before he was off, no more that a shadow in the world as he drove through the streets. He parked a block away from his target and walked the rest of the way, stopping by a street corner within vision of said target. He pulled out his phone, no more than an inconspicuous man reading the newspaper on his phone or getting an uber or whatever.
Deimos still hadn’t decided how he’d kill Cameron Metzler. His father, still not retired from his political career despite his age, cautioned him against failing this mission. That didn’t matter, Deimos wouldn’t fail. He couldn’t. He’d trained to be a weapon for his country, and weapons didn’t fail. Sure, sometimes they malfunctioned or broke, but they were always repairable. In the end, they always got the job done.

Cameron flopped into his car with a deep sigh and started on his way to the gym, squeezing the wheel. Even though he was far from the busy streets of the city, there was still congestion as people fought to get to their jobs. Eventually Cameron got himself to the gym.

He worked out for a while, doing his usual routine. An hour later, he left the gym once more in a normal morning, commuting to work after another shower at his home. Now it was the thick of rush hour, where he probably felt most comfortable without the constant extra pair of eyes on him. He never was able to figure out where it came from, but today was Friday. Everyone would be lazy, so he would be lazy, but also trying to figure out the culprit of the spying.

He arrived at his workplace, clocking in and making his way up to his office, which was on the second floor, making sure to pull open the blinds.

Deimos watched him go from the corner of his eyes. He’d already memorized the license plate to him car, he and knew the exact brand and model of the car he drove. Deimos knew he was going to the gym, then he’d go to work after. Deimos thought about following him to the gym too, but he’d already done that before, and as much as Deimos liked to secretively watch hot guys work out, he favored to get a head start to go to Cameron’s office building. He casually spent his morning walking around town until he settled near the tall building he’d grown familiar with—where Cameron worked. Damian knew his target worked on the second floor, and he also knew that occasionally someone would order breakfast brought into their office.
Deimos took out a brown paper bag he had folded from the inside of his coat, a local fast food place’s logo on it. It was only a matter of minutes before he was walking up to the second floor to ‘deliver some food for an employee on the second floor here’, as he told the receptionist. Deimos slowly strolled in, knowing exactly where Cameron’s office was. He approached the outside, glancing in to see just what the male was doing.

Cameron had clipped a cigar for himself and was quietly puffing it as he got started, tapping away on a computer with soft hums. His peripherals picked up on something moving, and he glanced over to spot the person he was seeing everywhere peering at him through his window. He slid back from his desk slightly in the wheely chair that hugged his body better than anything ever, just sort of returning the gaze with a stern expression of his own. He gestured the other inside, standing from his chair and moving to shut the blinds. His suspect had been caught, so there was no reason to keep the blinds open any longer.

“I didn't order any food,” Cameron huffed loudly as the other entered his office, tilting his head up slightly in an imposing way as his gaze flickered over the other. “And you don’t exactly look like the delivering type.” His English was heavily laced in that thick, rumbly Russian accent, but it was still clear and strong.

Annnnnnnd shit. Deimos froze when the man made eye contact with him. He had a couple options. He could just simply ignore the look and the gesture, and just walk away. Or he could fess up to watching Cameron for the past couple weeks, but that would be just plain stupid. So Deimos chose to try to keep up the act, walking in somewhat shyly. Trying to present himself no more that a meek deliver man lost in a building as he entered Cameron’s office. “You didn’t? I’m so sorry, I got a little lost. Do you know anyone that ordered breakfast in this building?” Deimos chose to ignore the second comment, trying to capitalize as much as he could on the first.

Deimos took the opportunity to let his eyes flicker over everything in the office, trying to memorize where everything was, planning what he could use as a weapon if things went south. And if things did go south… well, he hadn’t planned to assassinate Cameron today, but he might just have to. It wasn’t ideal, and surely he’d leave tracks, but he didn’t want to underestimate Cameron. If it put his own life on the line, he wouldn’t hesitate to stab Cameron’s throat with an office pen if that’s what it took.

Cameron huffed smoke from his nose, letting the rings spread out over his messy, cluttered, and almost never clean desk, and fill the room with what smelled like a sweeter aroma, rather than an acrid smell which is more associated with the heavy sticks of tobacco. He let the other speak, but his heavy, doughy eyes didn’t seem very overjoyed with what his ears were hearing.

“I don’t think anyone in this office eats nothing for breakfast,” Cameron answered after a few moment’s thought, landing on the small bag. “If anyone orders anything it’ll be for everyone. So perhaps you have the wrong floor.” His voice was dry and slightly suspicious, his hand already inching up to his pockets, which held a phone and a small knife he kept with him everywhere. This was definitely the man he kept seeing every which way he turned, catching sight with the brown eyes. The feigned shyness didn’t seem to affect the bigger man that much, and the times Cameron had seen the other previously helped him understand exactly what he was dealing with. Well, not exactly. Cameron would just have to play his cards right.

Deimos looked at Cameron shyly. “Oh? I’m so sorry then, I should take my leave.” Nothing. I am nothing to you, I’m not a threat. I am nothing. No one, just another forgettable face in your day to day life. Deimos silently willed, knowing he’d be in deep shit soon if he couldn’t get out of here and lay low for a little bit. Maybe he’d been sloppy the past couple weeks. What would his father think of him, if he saw him right now, speaking with his target like this? Disappointed. My father would be disappointed. In Deimos’ career, any attention was bad attention, and this was extremely bad attention.

It’d only be worse if he tried to leave now, if he rushed out too fast. That could only cause more suspicions. What if Cameron called the cops, saying there was a suspicious man in the building? He’d be on their radar, which was something he could not afford. For all any government entity knew, Deimos did not exist. He preferred to keep it that way.

“Why should I let you leave?” Cameron asked, the single question enough to pierce through any thought bubble, his suspicion rising slightly at the sudden want to leave. He settled down in his spinny chair again. He wasn’t afraid of looking less significant; he already had the upper hand in this situation. He huffed rings out of his nose again, his hand slipping into his pocket and pulling out his phone, which he waved back and forth slightly, as though considering to use it.

Perhaps calling the police would be the best thing to do. This man obviously wasn’t going to leave him alone anytime soon. Even after this, Cameron was sure a week later he would appear right back in the gym on a treadmill or as Cameron walked nonchalantly to the grocery store in the middle of the night. Obviously this man had something he needed to do, but he simply wasn’t doing it. Is that what brought him here today?

Of course allegations are just allegations… Cameron knew nothing. Yet.