[junglecatt]

📂 !

in his younger years (read: pre-snake eater), and following the explanation that he was essentially raised within the Russian military with volgin, ocelot earned the nickname major dick upon his initial promotion to the rank because he liked to relentlessly mess with and smoke lower enlisted soldiers for minor mistakes. almost no-one liked him personally, but everyone did have to respect him because he was, at least, inarguably better than the rest.

[junglecatt]

📂

ocelot’s favorite dessert is baklava!!!

[junglecatt]

"You smell." like a dog, ugh.

“i’ll shower later,” he says through gritted teeth, the slightest edge to his usually calm and cool voice. he’s spent the last twenty-some hours juggling between dealing with infighting in the barracks, keeping radio support up with boss, and— well, the rest is rather personal. “i’ve been busy, unlike you. maybe you could help me pick up the slack?”

[rp-meme-glaceon]

Send “📂“ for a random yet completely useless headcanon I have

[junglecatt]

@soulcluster

ocelot is perhaps the only person left in the world who can actually understand quiet— everyone else has seemed to let their loving grips succumb when prodded enough, but not them; not them. he understands, as strange as any kind of understanding between them may be, especially now that their separate loves are directly combative of one another. but as he holds big boss close to his chest while she holds venom, he does. a small part of him wonders if she does too; or if she lacks the capacity of this specific brand of empathy ocelot possesses.

his heart aches. it’s always aching! there’s nothing to do but ache anymore— the world is so stupid, and it’s only getting more stupid as every great and proud creature to stalk its grounds turn their backs on God in favor of some new-fangled idol. lately it feels like ocelot is the only one left standing. he’s not dumb. he knew where quiet’s love lied, and that was with venom, but he had been hopeful that it would, perhaps, transfer to john.

“you’re picking the wrong side, you know,” he warns, his voice remarkably calm. his already hawkish face is sharper than ever, the crow’s feet bordering his eyes further indicative of his cold disappointment. fine, be that way. “what are you doing it for? Him?” Him, HER capital H, him, who’s just the shadow of ocelot’s subject of adoration. he doesn’t get it. why not the real deal? “do you think he’d prefer this; that he didn’t lay his life down especially for big boss? or do you just like following phantoms for the hell of it? that’s all snake is. another shadow of the real thing.”

[junglecatt]

have some to do still (sorry!!! ended up being sent to fort IG and just adjusted to a night shift scheduled haha) but starter call :-)

[junglecatt]

soulcluster​

Cécile doesn’t have access to the comms as readily as some, not unless Snake needs her expertise. Besides, they’re too loud, they would scare away her birds, and MSF already has enough noise going on to do that. So when the new arrival to the base makes his way in and asks, she doesn’t know, but she can hazard a guess from his irritation alone.

“I prefer not to,” she replied, her French accent thick on every syllable. In her hands is a book of notes about the birds in the area. Originally meant to assist with her conference but now she won’t be going there. “But, let me guess,” she closes her book and affects a deep, though still French accented, voice, “Oh Cécile is the shining jewel of Costa Rica! I love scaring away her birds with my loud voice!” 

Cécile huffed. “Something like that, no doubt! Miller is nice enough, but he needs to stop scaring my birds! And talking about smoke and automobiles. So uncultured.” 

〝it clogs the flow. anyone else but john,〞(he puts emphasis on the name: and he’s been doing that ever since he’s gotten here. it brandishes their FRIENDSHIP for everyone else to see. puts them as almost-equals, because almost is as close as you can get with big boss)〝and he’d probably get them killed. he has too much fun. but scaring the birds is just as much of a crime.〞

his hands flutter away; red-fingered wings disappearing into the mid air on the sudden collapse of his gesture, where he draws his arms back to his sides only to begin moving them about just a second later. 〝what sort of specimens are out here, anyway? anything particularly exotique; belle?〞he’s got the words right, but his pronunciation is a far stretch from being close to a native speaker’s. russian is too harsh of a mother tongue to say things as prettily as they are intended to be in a romance language.

[junglecatt]

@soulcluster​

adam has mostly kept to himself so far, save for his very purposeful demonstration of familiarity to big boss. everything else could be staved off, left in the dark; but letting everyone know that was important. especially his new PARTNER, and no-- ocelot isn’t the biggest fan of miller, and that sentiment seems to go both ways. so far they’ve looked at one another the same as two dogs scrapping over territory do, though they pretend their bared teeth are nonthreatened smiles and they keep, for the most part, polite.

for the most part. but also fort the most part, miller is insufferable. especially today, chatting up and down the radio about cecile, and how nice she sounds, and how nice she looks, and what a jewel of the costa rican jungle to find; clogging up the comm lines with dandy-man flirtations. 

〝have you been listening to the comms?〞he greets the woman in question. she turns to him, surprised. ocelot always has had a bad habit of entering rooms too quietly. 〝i get why boss has him around, really, i do      〞and he wishes he wasn’t around, though he’d never admit that such a wish comes from the growing jealousy in his chest,〝         but he’s a HEADACHE on the radio.〞

[junglecatt]

                    LOVE   IS   PATIENT                      —– AND SO AM I

revolver ocelot of the metal gear solid series, with verses for the wild west; rdr(2), jjba (steel ball run), & more. written by sarah. formerly edenvs.

[junglecatt]

D.D. drops a saliva-soaked ball in front of Ocelot and looks up hopefully.

ocelot picks up the ball, holding it lightly between two fingers and trying to hide the faint disgust on his face when he sees how wet it is. he’s grateful he’s wearing gloves right now.〝good boy, DD!〞he smiles in good humor, glancing down the bridge leading towards the next platform over. he takes stance, arm behind his head in the same way you’d throw a grenade, and then off it goes, surprisingly far. he’s got a good arm on him, and you gotta make a dog (wolf!) work hard for this to be any real fun.

[memetaped]

nonverbal starters prompts featuring nonverbal scenarios.

guide take them by the hand, arm, or shoulder to guide them.

shelter protect them.

shove push them.

loop drape an arm around their shoulders.

touch a gentle touch like rubbing their back, hugging them, holding their hand. 

kiss a kiss on the cheek, knuckles, forehead, in their hair.

palm smack them upside the head.

bed rest gently push them back down when they try getting out of bed.

aid help them with a task.

note pass a note to them.

cry wipe away their tears.

wash wipe something off their forehead, cheek, so on.

bandage patch them up when they get hurt.

heal take care of them when they get sick.

book silently read a story with them. 

carry pick them up. 

scrap punch them.

cherry find blood on them.

sit help them sit down.  

medical wake up in the hospital and find them holding their hand.

steer place a hand under their chin to make them look up. 

beat dance with them.

stare stare them down. 

off track get lost with them.

no shaking their head in disagreement. 

yes nodding their head in agreement.

rush tackle them to the ground.

open hold the door open for them.

[junglecatt]

.

[junglecatt]

syupeo​

“It’s normal for people to say “I don’t need you”… right?”

〝all depends on how needy they are and how useful you are.〞

[junglecatt]

splinterwrites​.

Alexei tilted his head slightly to the side, looking out the window for moment longer before turning back to his son. He clasped his hands behind his back, smile turning to grin, teeth showing now.

“Hungarian, actually,” he said smoothly. “The unit’s leader, at least.“ Whether or not the skull-faced man was operating under American orders, Zero’s, or of his own volition, Alexei did not know. But he needed to get Adam away from here. As skilled as the youngest-ever Russian Major was, XOF had a distinctive advantage here.

Alexei did not feel fear at the thought of death—not usually. It was a natural, and supernatural, cycle. Man lived, man died, their body earthbound, but their spirit uncontained. But he felt an inkling of fear now, watching as his son prepared to evade death tonight. The Sorrow knew that his intervention here was inexcusable. He had done this, disrupted life’s natural ebb and flow, for personal, selfish reasons. But this was his son.

“You are no more important than any man,” he replied lightly. That was true, so long as he left off the ‘to me’ at the end of it. Man was man and spirit was spirit and everything carried equal weight in life and in death. “But, you have a mission to attend to, don’t you?”

“I am a terrible liar, I will admit,” he continued. But I am a wonderful omitter of truth.

he bits his lip at that news. hungarian. adam has no clue what they might be doing in the middle of all this, or even on the very outskirts; but for now he won’t argue. ghosts don’t say things just to say them. ghosts aren’t this direct for the purpose of misdirection. to serve those purposes, they keep to their riddles and half-truths. there is a pang in his side that tells him that he is being fed those HALF-TRUTHS right now, but adam’s not sure what to do with it, so he lets it throb. 

he glances at the window, and then at the door. his bed is unmade and after years of that being the first thing he tends to upon waking up, ocelot is seized with the impulse to make it neat.〝a mission to attend to? i do,〞he digresses. it’s hard work to make this finely-tuned machine perform the way it’s supposed to, but he’s a hard worker for that reason. perhaps this spirit is too. the more he looks at him, the more adam notices similarities between them. the rise of their cheekbones, the shape of their jaw, the bridge of their noses. he notices them, but doesn’t think of it.

〝what do i need to do, oh spirit?〞he asks. there is still a light humor to his voice, but mostly he’s taking the other seriously now. there’s no harm in being safe. 〝leave the area, tell someone, keep quiet------  or am i gonna weave them into web itself?〞

[junglecatt]

hey guys! just wanted to post a little update. i know i’ve been lower activity lately but that might get even lower, as tomorrow i’ll be shipping out to complete my AIT for an estimate 10 weeks. not sure what social media access i’ll have during this time; might be everyday, might be weekends, might be not at all. so i apologize if activity is low or nonexistent in the case that i have no access to a phone/laptop. i WILL return to this blog regardless! love u all mwah :3c

[junglecatt]

❛ But if you must be clever, then be clever. ❜

he examines her with narrowed and knowing eyes. neither of them are who they seem to be. neither of them are who they claim to be. her voice is creaky, as though hardly used, and her accent is strange. ocelot can’t place it. secret-keepers always do breath an air of ambiguity. she’s not a cobra, but a late addition. it makes him wonder how many children the boss really had scattered throughout the world; how many she’d molded and how many she trusted. he thinks, for now, two. after-all, only snake and this wraith are here in these prescribed moments. and, he supposes, himself.

“i’m not being clever,” he retorts, rolling his head from one shoulder to the other to get rid of the stiffness that had settled across his back. “you just don’t understand. i think you’re in the dark.”

[junglecatt]

yoursmary​

no one asks questions with the intention of receiving the truth.        it only glimmers within the rifts of a response, peeking through the cracks with a begging to be believed.        mary’s come to learn this as the days are long.        tell people what they want to hear and they won’t be bothered to go about asking questions again.        still, she offers up reality as prettily as possible, as if that alone makes it a much easier pill to swallow.        “no… i don’t think you’re stupid,” mary insists with a shake of her head.        stupid isn’t the word she’d utilize unless she was at a total loss for something better.        “persistent, among other things…”        sometimes that teetered the line of stupid.        “ ————– not stupid.”

he doesn’t bite it. there’s too much formality in her response, too much reserved politeness. adam has learned very quickly that mary is never one to be impudent, but also never one to tell much in the way of lies. “persistently stupid, or meaningfully persistent?” he asks, scratching his nails against his knuckles absently. it wasn’t right of him to ask it that way. the choices were too polarizing, and this was hardly a matter of true or false.

“well, it’s dumb of me to ask. not like i really care what you think,” ouch. sounds too harsh. adam backtracks. “well, no offense. i do—    — just not when i’m being persistent.” he’d think his thoughts regardless of any snappy attempt to pull him from this fruitless trance. but maybe once in awhile it’s just good to be aware of that trance.