[Ocelot is sitting at a hardwood table, arms folded and spurred boots up. He's dressed quite sharply in a black blazer and tie. At the edge of the screen can be seen a bottle of good vodka, the contents low, though Ocelot doesn't appear drunk
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Considering it spared me my death, I'm not sure whether to be glad or irritated.
[A pause.]
Drinking?
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[Ocelot rolls the bottle around on its base, watching Liquid mildly.]
I don't think I ever heard about your death.
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[Ocelot keeps a passive expression, but his voice tells that he's distracted. He uncaps the bottle and lazily tops off a shotglass.]
At least now you can grow old like the rest of us.
[He keeps the knowledge of Liquid's limited lifespan to himself.]
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[And he's mildly concerned.]
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[He smirks just slightly.]
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...I didn't know you were so observant, Liquid. I'd better watch myself.
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Did Big Boss ever tell you know he lost vision in his right eye?
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...I did it to him.
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You?
[There's a statement he never thought he'd hear.]
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I never felt anything about it. Not proud or sorry. I didn't do it on purpose so it wasn't something to brag about, and he adapted to the loss of depth perception surprisingly fast. He's got some remarkable instincts. Just having his left eye somehow made up for the loss of the right...
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[Liquid's voice was thoughtful.]
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