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Entry tags:
cross the roofs
Who: Otto Octavius ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
doctopoda
What: June catch-all
When: June, pre-Kaijuu
Where: Excelsior
Content Warnings: none
i. excelsior, day, out and about
ii. excelsior, night, guild housing
iii. wildcard
doctopoda What: June catch-all
When: June, pre-Kaijuu
Where: Excelsior
Content Warnings: none
i. excelsior, day, out and about
[Now that he's gainfully employed, Otto's starting to fall into something more like a normal routine.
You may see him out getting coffee at what's become his regular place, or doing some shopping. It's getting easier; the longer he's lived here, the more people in his neighborhood have gotten used to the sight of him.
Ever since the incident at Balthier's shop, though, things have gotten a little weird. There's been outcry against metas. He knew it existed out there, but he's only lived in Central City and here, where such things are less common; this is the first real anti-meta sentiment he's seen in person. He even passes a few little protest groups outside of the Guild buildings, his own home and the others near it. Yet somehow, he himself is excluded: he's a product of science, not natural-born, not magic.
A ridiculous distinction. Otto knows as well as anyone just how dangerous a rogue scientist can be.
Mostly, he does his best to ignore praise and protest alike. If he sees anyone nearby who seems upset by the crowd - or, god forbid, anyone who's getting yelled at by them - he'll go over to them, actuators curving protectively, though not too close.]
Come on. They're just looking for attention - don't give them the satisfaction.
You may see him out getting coffee at what's become his regular place, or doing some shopping. It's getting easier; the longer he's lived here, the more people in his neighborhood have gotten used to the sight of him.
Ever since the incident at Balthier's shop, though, things have gotten a little weird. There's been outcry against metas. He knew it existed out there, but he's only lived in Central City and here, where such things are less common; this is the first real anti-meta sentiment he's seen in person. He even passes a few little protest groups outside of the Guild buildings, his own home and the others near it. Yet somehow, he himself is excluded: he's a product of science, not natural-born, not magic.
A ridiculous distinction. Otto knows as well as anyone just how dangerous a rogue scientist can be.
Mostly, he does his best to ignore praise and protest alike. If he sees anyone nearby who seems upset by the crowd - or, god forbid, anyone who's getting yelled at by them - he'll go over to them, actuators curving protectively, though not too close.]
Come on. They're just looking for attention - don't give them the satisfaction.
ii. excelsior, night, guild housing
[Peter staying with Otto has been rather nice, actually - at least in Otto's mind. He spends most of his days at work, and Peter's often out on his own business at other times, so they don't see too much of one another. But when they do, it's nice to have a bit of friendly conversation. The place has felt empty since Norman left.
Even so, there's still evenings when he's left to his own devices, or nights that drag on as sleep eludes him. So there's also nights when a tentacled shape can be seen swiftly crawling its way up to the roof of one of the Guild-owned apartment buildings.
Once up there, he leans against the perimeter wall, lights a cigarette, and smokes it while looking out over the city. It's an awful habit, he knows; he went some thirty years without it. But then - as with so many things - but then there was the accident. He quit once. He can kick it again. Just...later, maybe.]
Even so, there's still evenings when he's left to his own devices, or nights that drag on as sleep eludes him. So there's also nights when a tentacled shape can be seen swiftly crawling its way up to the roof of one of the Guild-owned apartment buildings.
Once up there, he leans against the perimeter wall, lights a cigarette, and smokes it while looking out over the city. It's an awful habit, he knows; he went some thirty years without it. But then - as with so many things - but then there was the accident. He quit once. He can kick it again. Just...later, maybe.]
iii. wildcard
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[Can't tell you why Wally moved to a farm! No worries, he's got the actuators well in hand. Or claw, as it may be.]
No, no, I understand. But it should be alright. I wouldn't have offered if I thought you'd be in danger here.
[Which might sound slightly cold, but...well, he'd have tried to help some other way, is all. He won't be the reason something bad happens to Peter again, even something minor.]