Chapter Two: Ozpin

Like a sixth-sense, Ozpin knows there is another presence in the room. He stops just out of the elevator, gaze turning until it lands on his chair. With a steady pace he strides over, grateful for the hot chocolate and mourning that he likely won't be able to drink it all until after the intruder is gone.

Ozpin pulls back his chair… blinks, "…And how did you get up here?"

The cat glares back, as if to say, 'how dare you wake me up.'

With a fond smile, he sets the mug on the table. The multi-coloured, mangled long-fur cat watches every move, tensing as the hands near. Ozpin can touch it, but as soon as he goes to lift it-

"…How did you get over there?" Ozpin pauses, and then flinches out of the way of a claw swiping at his arm. The disgruntled, teleporting cat hisses and flicks eyes to the hot chocolate mug. Back to Ozpin. A paw raises threateningly. "No. I apologize for trying to move you. There's no need-" he sighs in relief as the paw lowers, "for threats. Now, time for proper introductions. My name is Professor Ozpin. Who might you be?"

Because animals don't have aura like that.

The cat narrows eyes and is gone. A quick glance reveals the grumpy feline curling up on a bookshelf, eyeing him. Seeing as there's nothing to be done – (nothing to be done?) – yes, absolutely no reason to look further into this, Ozpin settles in his chair and sips his drink.

"If you're staying," Ozpin calls after a bit of work, "I'm going to need a name."

The cat cracks an eyelid at his voice. When he doesn't do more then stare, the feline goes back to resting.

Glynda would be disappointed he spends most of the afternoon arguing names with a cat, but it cheers him up greatly to annoy the long-haired feline. Ozpin is almost certain it is male because of the hair-raising hissing at some of the more feminine names he tries (Emma got the most sorrowful wail, while Salem got a pissed-off yowl Ozpin verbally agreed with).

"Scrap?" Ozpin bemusedly scratches the cat behind the ears, surprised the joke name has the most approval of rubbing against his legs. "I still like Cogs better."

Scrap's tail thwacks him with a growl.

"Okay," he smiles a little wider and gently lifts the most-definitely-an-extraordinary-cat onto his lap. "Scrap it is. How would you like to watch me run a school?"

Scrap purrs and curls up, falling asleep to the calming ministrations.

"Where did you come from?" Ozpin wonders softly, turning back to his work. He debates phoning his contacts in Atlas – because the refusal of that name was almost as vocal as Salem – but honestly? If someone's missing a teleporting cat, they will probably find it with a tracker sooner or later. He'll enjoy the company for now.

A fond smile, "I hope you don't take to hunting birds." That would be unfortunate.