fissionmailed | (no subject)

[A Liquid Ocelot appears on the rooftops. He is staring out across the railings, eyes scoping down to the Nexus below. His entire surroundings have changed from his last whereabouts, and confusion stiffles onto his face.]

[Naturally, he remains calm, but his eyes sharpen beneath his sunglasses propped against the bridge of his nose. He stares down at his walkie-talkie, firmly in his grasp, listening to the static motion on the other side. It was clear he was out of range.]

This is not the Middle East.