Revolver Ocelot (
ocelthot) wrote in
prismatica2020-01-06 08:01 pm
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Video | un: Оцелотовая Хватка (Forward dated start of Cordis)
[The video feed opens with a small cat perched on it's haunches in front of the device in, obviously filming from one of the standard apartments. Eagle eyed viewers could probably spot some thin wires in the background threaded taut between walls and furniture.
Then it talks in the voice of a fairly gruff sounding older man.]
I usually stick to text with this thing, but as you can presumably see, Cordis has hit me a little harder than usual.
[While absolutely capable of not doing it, talking with his hands was very close to downright instinctual. With paws though, it's more like he's batting an invisible toy. Especially being a type of spotted cat that isn't all that much bigger than a domestic kitten as a fully grown adult and having his wrist rotation limited.]
So I'll get straight to the point: could someone please come open my apartment door?
I can unlock it and turn the handle, but I can't get the momentum to pull it open.
I'm pretty sure just one of my guns weighs more than I do right now.
[ooc: since he'll need assistance multiple times throughout cordis I figure there's no reason for this not to happen more than once even if he only posts the one message to the network.]
Then it talks in the voice of a fairly gruff sounding older man.]
I usually stick to text with this thing, but as you can presumably see, Cordis has hit me a little harder than usual.
[While absolutely capable of not doing it, talking with his hands was very close to downright instinctual. With paws though, it's more like he's batting an invisible toy. Especially being a type of spotted cat that isn't all that much bigger than a domestic kitten as a fully grown adult and having his wrist rotation limited.]
So I'll get straight to the point: could someone please come open my apartment door?
I can unlock it and turn the handle, but I can't get the momentum to pull it open.
I'm pretty sure just one of my guns weighs more than I do right now.
[ooc: since he'll need assistance multiple times throughout cordis I figure there's no reason for this not to happen more than once even if he only posts the one message to the network.]
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the video feed catches sight of her pulling loose curls out from under the collar of her coat. her cheeks puff. she seems to chew her lip before speaking. ]
I’m Peggy. [ she’ll still be a stranger, yes, but it might be useful to be a stranger with a name. ] And I’m on my way.
[ —give or take a quarter of an hour, she finds the corresponding door and knocks her knuckles lightly against the door. she calls a short-but-firm it’s me through the barrier with the same stilted, distant british voice used when she introduced herself. ]
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[He had to make sure he threw in an introduction himself while there was time before the feed cut out. Even though it wasn't exactly a name-name.
He spent most of the waiting time doing more experimentation with the physical abilities of the tiny form, black-footed cats weren't meant to climb but they were still solid jumpers, which was just about the only reason he could still unlock the door himself.
So when Peggy announced herself there was a significant period of claws and paws scrabbling against the door before the lock clicked open.]
There it should be unlocked now.
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so she bides her time until the tumbler clicks and she reaches for the knob—twist-toggling it just so until the door swings open. she leaves it ajar, at first, before opening it to its full arc. after all, despite the video, she doesn’t quite know what she’s walking into… ]
That’s my good deed done for the month.
[ she jokes, dryly, as she drinks in the sight of the actual literal cat that she’s been conversing with. good lord. is all this oddness worth sating curiosity? after all, she speaks and reads russian fluently and it was his network username that first hooked her attention. and now he goes as far as to suggest his actual name is ocelot.
it does make her wonder exactly what the moniker means. ocelot’s grasp. ]
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[It's certainly A Room. Between the drugs on the coffee table, cowboy themed pinups, and the large rifle case in plain sight. Never mind the obvious traps. Those additions largely being the only sign it was a place that was lived in, everything else was left in it's default state. If he'd still been human there'd have likely been nothing to see but the cowboy pinups.
At the same time he certainly gave no indication this wasn't entirely normal.]
Of course I'm sure a few people would love to argue if it counts as a good deed.
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her eyes travel over the more obvious of the obvious traps and, clearing her throat, she offers: ]
—Do you require any additional assistance, Mister Ocelot?
[ as if she’s half-thinking about excusing herself as quickly as possible. not for fear or apprehension but because she doesn’t quite know how to parse her own sharp-edged curiosity. it’s like a hunger all on its own and if she doesn’t conquer it she’ll be sprouting with all manner of questions.
peggy wholly ignores the implication that she might have liberated someone less-than-good to prowl. perhaps it’s true; perhaps it’s bravado. she can’t make that decision just yet and she can’t trust the stranger-cat’s self-reporting. ]
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Of course he wouldn't exactly be capable of physically stopping her if she did choose to go deeper and investigate his things in this state. His revolvers and all his gun care and ""enhanced interrogation"" instruments were in his bedroom along with his clothes and cowboy boots.]
Not particularly, but if you'd like something to eat, I'm headed to a cafe and will be paying.
[And due to Cordis he may just be relishing the concept that most food he could order would be comparatively enormous right now.]
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—but then, oh, a salivating craving in the back of her mouth makes the decision for her. ]
I could eat.
[ her answer is appropriately understated but her smile is wolfish. she steps back, makes room, and then hesitates with her fingers tapping on the edge of ocelot’s open door. ]
Do you want it locked?
[ simply asking means she’s also offering to chaperone him back to his flat, later, just to open the door all over again. ]
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[Since the only things of sincere value to him were the revolvers and maybe his boots, everything else was replaceable. Except perhaps the Metal Gear Ray, but it wasn't in any state he could use it in. The lock was more for when he was in than when he was out. When he could be sleeping or putting himself into a hypnotic state.
He shrugged to shift his communication device more between his shoulders so it was more comfortable the carry.]
The cafe isn't too far away, but it will be further for me right now.
[It'd probably take a fast trot to keep up with a human stride length, but it would still easily be less work than his regular exercise routine. After all, he could still run circles around men a third his age.]
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oh, sod it. ]
I could carry you.
[ it's precisely the sort of offer she'd never make if she wasn't now viciously eager to get to a plate of food. ]
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if anyone did happen to OD on it, well that was just their fault for taking strange medications in someone else's apartment.]If you'd like to, it is still only light exercise on my part.
[The chroma would still be a bonus, even if he had nothing but bad memories for 40s fashion.]
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Maybe so. [ a half-hearted shrug as she leans in, fingers waggling and hesitant as she considers her avenue of approach. ] But I’m not certain I’ve got the patience to wait out your light exercise.
[ she isn’t at all embarrassed to be so self-serving in her offer. she is a little embarrassed, however, to scoop another person (cat-shaped) in her arms and cradle him awkwardly against the lapel of her wool coat.
ah, well, the chroma will indeed be a bonus. ]
Which way are we headed?
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...Then again, it wasn't like his choice of pinups were necessarily subtle.]
Two blocks west, one block north, it's not easy to miss.
[For his part he tucked his limbs in, leaving minimal risk of unintentionally touching anything improper or delicate.]
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but, then again, that’s the point. isn’t it?
she clears her throat and does an admirable job of looking entirely at ease with the situation as they leave the building together and head, just as directed, two blocks west. ]
In your original call for help, you said the “moonblessing” hit you rather harder than usual. [ her idle chit-chat is (in fact) far from idle. ] Does this mean you’ve never experienced quite this much of a change before today?
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But ultimately the whole spying and counter spying game really didn't mean much of anything in a place like this and calling others out for no reason was a complete waste.]
I haven't changed this much before, no, but I did hear of it happening to others.
Usually it's been limited to gaining a couple of cat features and a monstrous appetite.
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though, truthfully, she can’t tell which camp ocelot falls into. ]
This is my first—phase? Moon cycle? Good God, what do they call it?
[ she pauses (briefly) before crossing a street and taking the next shift in direction—from memory. ]
And although I wouldn’t call my own appetite monstruous, it’s certainly making itself known.
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This is my seventh transformation.
Active lifestyle like mine takes a lot of eating to maintain muscle mass, under Cordis I tend to eat enough to feed a full squad.
[Of course right now his stomach is probably only the size of a ping pong ball, so at least this time he'll be cheap to feed.
He'd been fairly casual about his military involvement publicly, so there was no need to avoid referencing it now.]
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I hadn't thought of it like that.
[ just yet—that the more subtle changes, the ones affecting her, would take a different kind of toll. that just to keep herself sharp and strong, she'll need to eat more. and to eat more, she'll need to afford more. just as well, then, that she's cradling this cat close to her torso—generating warm, ambient chroma just for walking together. not so terrible, really.
to the point where she's almost regretful when they reach the cafe. after his initial directions, peggy hadn't asked for any reminders—and she's satisfied to identify what must be the correct place in the correct spot. assuming the staff don't take issue with cats inside, she opts for a two-top just inside the cafe, to the left of the doorway.
—and before she takes a seat, she gently drops ocelot onto the table. resisting all the while the urge to give the kitty scruff at the back of his neck an extra pet. ]
Given your size, [ she almost-smiles, ] I'll gladly volunteer to eat the squad's share today.
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If the cafe staff happened to object all he'd probably need to do is speak up probably, given the general status prismals seemed to give moon blessed, though considering that he makes a point of not just parking his butt on the table, and instead crouching in that way cats do when they relax but keep their feet under themselves before using a paw to stretch the wrist band on his neck to take the communication device off his body and put it on the table.
Easier to use it to make payments and bring up information on it as needed that way.]
Always the way when someone else is paying. [He made a point of making it very clear he's only teasing in his tone due to the limitations of a cat's face. He certainly didn't value or comprehend money enough to have a budget let alone any real qualms with arbitrarily spending it on other people.]
No, it fine, I don't use the funds for anything anyway.
I know what I plan to order though.
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[ she meets and matches the teasing in her tone—keen to play around, but equally keen not to be mistaken for a moocher through and through. although—admittedly, yes, considering she counts a multi-billionaire among her closest friends, she's not exactly a stranger to someone else picking up her tab. on occasion.
—after all! ocelot offered. she wasn't about to refuse, demure, or prevaricate on principle.
with a glance and a nod, she aims to snag the attention of some server. all while still joking: ]
It's not a saucer of milk, is it?
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Finding out if the fur comes with lactose intolerance could be fun.
[Still a joke, but perhaps not an appropriate one before eating.
Though with the server's attention he's ordering an unreasonably fancy meat pastry which is probably half his current body weight.]
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she leans in—elbows on the table—and confidently requests the same pastry again for herself. and a plate of chips. oh, and a chocolate milkshake. and a cup of tea, too? something strong—something black. as meals go, this was would hardly be holistic—and if she's honest with herself, that's got nothing to do with the moon phase. ]
—By the way. What are the odds it's all a nasty prank? [ a beat. ] You being called Ocelot and then turning into a cat.
[ she very confidently, very coolly, refers to it as him being called Ocelot rather than typifying it as an actual name. rather than expose any sort of suspicion or intuition, it most likely says more about peggy's perspectives on unexpected naming schemes. ]
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If I'd turned into one entirely I'd at least have been large enough to open my own door.
[He won't complain too much about it being referred to as simply being called 'Ocelot,' it's just more socially acceptable than 'Shalashaska' or explaining he's technically nameless outside of the names he's chosen for himself and the ones he's gained through reputation.]
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[ peggy wonders whether there’s any animal whose bits and bobs she might be able to make her peace with acquiring—even if only temporarily.
her thoughts come up dry. no-bloody-thanks. ]
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[As opposed to, say, the single moon part of the cycle happening now. He doesn't elaborate on the powers he gained because who knows? he might plan on actually using them for something if he gained access to them again.]
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but then he mentions something she’s not yet experienced. and so, leaning an elbow on the table, she asks: ]
What do you mean—the “three moons” part?
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