UNTRUTH.

  Although the city teemed with monsters that were heavy in horrific sounds–the ragged breathing, the grinding of teeth, the guttural growls–only deafening silence seemed to press into her ears in the underground, a place where any sound was muffled by an indescribable pressure caused by the stale air and the intensified gravity it was laden with. It felt much like being submerged, fathoms deep, trudging through water that resisted every forward movement, and nothing felt real aside from her tight grip on Oz’s coat as they explored deeper – even the Abyss felt more alive than this.

Her eyes darted between the fuzzy, dead shadows cast by the torches on the walls and Oz’s back, and she vaguely wondered if the darkness reminded him of the sore experiences they shared, of the oppressive darkness of the World’s prison, of that barren place they met in this new life and in the one before, though the Abyss of before, she now understood, used to be a much kinder place. But there was no point in asking–they were not imprisoned, not anymore, though the city known as Terra might as well be guarded by prison bars.

Distantly, she became aware of a muffled sound – a grimy scratching of claws which bounced wildly off the tight corridor walls and surrounded them and seemed to exist everywhere at once. She turns her head, alert, scanning the path ahead and the way they already traversed, searching for the source; but her senses felt dull, she did not feel in control, not until it was too late. Her hand slipped from Oz’s coat as she stopped in her tracks, peering into the endless darkness behind them, and she knew with dreadful certainty that something was coming, for the distant torchlights began to flicker, casting wild, disturbed shadows one by one until they were upon her.

Oz’s desperate voice tore through the tunnel as Alice threw her arms up in a feeble attempt to defend herself, and time seemed to slip away from her. Dirty claws grazed her arms and threw her backward, though she could not feel the pain of the gash nor the impact of the ground; and the next thing she knew, the corridor had fallen dark, every nearby torch knocked down or extinguished in the disarray. Sounds rang all around her, though she could not tell what they were–she could not tell which belonged to Oz and which to the beast. 

Anxiety rose in her throat, threatened to overflow–

—Where is he?

“ Oz!! ”

The glow of the torches goes out in a rush, the gust of air that the beast brings with its movement killing the lights in one breath and plunging the cave into abrupt darkness. It obscures the scene a mere moment before Oz can witness the horrifying sight of the creature descending upon Alice.

Oz’s movement in helplessly reaching towards her sends him an additional step or two forward before he stumbles to a halt, eyes wide but useless in the sudden lack of light. There’s a burst of noises around him, the clatter of torches knocked from their perches and the heavy sounds of the creature in the enclosed space. Oz stiffens; a tightness burns in his lungs, desperation gripping him and honing his thoughts to one single focus: Alice. What happened to Alice?! Almost immediately, as if in answer to this thought, her voice calls to him from within the all-encompassing darkness. Her cry echoes from somewhere behind him and Oz shifts slightly to better face the sounds of the beast before him, positioned protectively between it and Alice. Cold, furious outrage consumes him, leaving behind little but the intent to kill -- this creature harmed Alice. He snaps his arm back without any real, conscious thought, hand positioned to pull B-Rabbit’s scythe from the air to cleave the creature in two --

-- ?!

...But his hand remains empty, fingers splayed and ready to grip a scythe that doesn’t appear. He angles a confused look at his open hand -- or tries to, but ultimately sees nothing in the choking darkness, his gaze flicking blindly down and to the right. Oz’s fingers twitch over empty air. For the briefest of seconds, he’s thrown off, like he’s lost the momentum of his actions as he stands dumbfounded, static in his thoughts as he flounders with what to do.

It doesn’t take long to figure out. A slight grin tugs at his lips; for some reason that is impossible to discern, he almost wants to laugh. Of course. The realization strikes him suddenly -- was it ever truly forgotten? The answer is simple. He’ll just... destroy it.

The ground splinters beneath his feet, jagged cracks splitting it into sharp pieces. They race outward and up the walls, climbing to the ceiling; the sound of stone snapping like brittle twigs adds to the cacophony and chaos, though Oz appears entirely unfazed. Dust both lifts from the ground and sifts down from above. There is a spiderweb of cracks upon the ground and there, poised at the epicenter of it all, is Oz.

  Though the lampposts cast light around the park, she did not feel comforted by their presence – though finally having found the one she was so desperate to reunite with, she did not feel at ease. The beating of her heart spun to a rabbit’s pace even as the impression of the shadow cleared from her vision, and an awful, guttural feeling pulled at her insides as Oz turned to face her, his eyes open but hardly seeing. The state of his mind–the fact there was something very, very wrong with him–could be discerned despite the distance between them, and she had to force even a modicum calmness against the tight lump that rose in her throat– for his sake.

Taking the last few steps forward, she leaves the edge of the forest to stand before him. The look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know: that the worst scenario had occurred–that he had gone through something terrible all alone. She did not know whether the expression he wore was sourced from the event she witnessed before her consciousness slipped from their world, but it mattered little as he stood a mere few feet away. He was here, and she found him – but how much of him was left to find?

“ … Oz. ” His name leaves her tongue easier this time. “ I finally found you. I was searching everywhere, you know… ” She attempted to be angry with him but could not muster the strength as she gazed upon his broken face. That face that she loves so much, now drained of color and marred with tired lines, spoke more words than he would ever dare to disclose himself, and memories of the pain he experienced all those years ago flashed through her mind. The echoes of his screams for help haunted her sleep, each dream a repeat of the events of Sablier, and no respite awaited her when she would wake out of fear, alone in a dark room, unknowing of whether he was safe or continued to suffer.

“ How many times do I have to tell you to not use B-Rabbit’s powers without my permission? ” It was an odd thing – she did not sense B-Rabbit in the same way as when it ran rampant before, but she could ascribe no other source to that shadowy impression. It was … a terrifying thing, as for that brief moment, he was B-Rabbit more than he was Oz. And each time he used the power, he seemed to lose himself a little more.

She takes a breath in an attempt to bar back the emotions that welled up in her eyes, but found her strength crumpling despite her efforts to remain level.

I don’t want you to hurt anymore. 

“ It’s… enough, Oz. ”

Alice is here. Alice is here. The exact implications of that begin to sink in, a creeping sense of horror and bone-crushing guilt that surfaces amidst the static of Oz’s thoughts. Alice is here, with him, despite the fact that he’d sent her away in a desperate attempt to keep her safe. The fact that she is here at all puts her in danger. Alice is in danger, and it’s his fault.

He’s failed to keep her safe, again.

That failure twists his stomach into knots. Sudden dread coils around his heart. Why is she here? How is she here? Alice should be far away from him, safe. When had that changed? His mind whirls; he knows without trying that he cannot send her away as he did before. Something about her presence is different now, no longer tied to him in the same way -- perhaps it has to do with his strange and off-putting arrival to this unfamiliar city, though he cannot say for sure. The point is that he’s failed to protect her and there is nothing he can do to fix it. Guilt weighs heavy in his chest. Alice being with him only endangers her. And now knowing what happened before, so long ago, Oz cannot bear to think of Alice in danger. Alice shouldn’t be here; her mere presence at his side puts her at risk.

She’d already died for him once.

❝ Alice... ❞ He repeats her name a second time, stunned and shocked and mortified by her presence all at once. ❝ ...I’m sorry. ❞ Whether his apology is in reference to what she’s said or for his own perceived failure is unclear.

He can barely fathom words; Oz merely stares at her, eyes stretched wide. Alice’s appearance before him unsettles the eerily tranquil blankness of his thoughts. It’s almost whiplash-inducing, really; Oz’s newfound horror clears the fog from his head and his mind sharpens with a sudden spike of terror. Fear for Alice’s safety grips him tight to the point of suffocation. Protect Alice -- the thought rises above the messy tangle of confusion and horror, more prominent than anything else.

❝ Alice, ❞ he says again, firmly, with more conviction this time. His gaze drops away from her, becoming shadowed by his bangs as though he cannot face her. ❝ ...You should leave, ❞ he tells her, with a deliberate attempt to keep his voice steady. It succeeds for the most part, though there’s a telltale tremble at the end. Oz pushes on anyway.

As far as he knows, the Baskervilles are still after him. If Alice is here, they’ll harm her too -- and that is unacceptable.

❝ You’ll only be hurt if you stay with me, ❞ he insists. There’s something undeniably desperate to his tone, almost beseeching despite his attempted calm. What happened to Alice before was his fault and he doesn’t want anything like that to occur ever again. ❝ Don’t worry... about me anymore, Alice. ❞

Maybe the stranger with the books has a better idea of what to look for. As far as other citizens of the city go, there’s always an alarmingly high chance of coming upon another person mysteriously whisked away from their homeland. Oz saunters over, a casual skip in his step, and glances down at the cover of the top book as he nears with open and childlike curiosity, though there’s a sharp gleam of interest in his eyes.

❝ Wow! That’s a lot of books, mister, ❞ he comments, glibly. His attitude is undeniably perky, with a bright smile and what is probably an unusual amount of cheer. He tips his head to one side, rocking forward slightly upon the balls of his feet. ❝ What’re you looking for, anyway~? ❞

It’s a little annoying. The kingdom gives its stolen citizens keys to an apartment, but not to this thing?

He can’t quite puzzle it out. So Oz addresses a nearby stranger, expression deliberately sugar-sweet as he lifts the slab up in one hand. ❝ Hey, mister! ❞ he calls, injecting vibrant cheer into every syllable. His tone lilts with childlike inquisitiveness. ❝ What’s this thing for, anyway~? I’m curious. ♡ ❞

Though chains... of some sort do apparently prowl the streets of the city at night, many seem to steer clear of Oz, like weaker creatures cowering and skittering away at the presence of a more dangerous monster. The sounds of the city above are muffled, harder to discern from the underground. Of course, there are few noises at all when many folk are either hiding away from the danger that eternal nightfall brings or farther out in the forests seeking ingredients for the city’s royalty. But every now and then there is an unmistakable heavy, scratching sound that is likely some sort of creature stalking the city's mostly-abandoned streets.

And -- there, the sound is audible again... but louder this time. A little closer, without any layers of earth in between to soften the noise. Oz feels a chill go down his spine; an unfathomable sensation, like being watched but infinitely worse, stops him in his tracks. He freezes, gaze flicking back into the depths of the tunnel that he and Alice have been wandering through just in time to see one of the city’s notorious night creatures leap forward in one long stride. (This one must be bold.) He stiffens, pivoting a little, but there’s no time to find a better position within the cramped tunnels, and it’s headed right for Alice, maw agape and ugly claws out ----

Too late, too slow. There’s nothing he can do ----

Panic seizes him in an iron grip. He flings out one hand in a futile attempt to do something, anything -- though he doesn’t know what, has not thought that far ahead, and is only acting on the surge of raw desperation that shoots through him at the sight of Alice in the direct line of the beast. He cannot see anything, cannot think of anything besides Alice, Alice ----...

❝ ------ ALICE !!!! ❞

❝ Oh, wooow! Look, it’s so tall! ❞ He laughs, bright and clear and careless. There’s something just the tiniest bit off about the sound, as though he’s overcompensating -- it’s not hysteria, but something about the cheerful chime of his laughter has a similar sort of exaggerated whimsy to it. Oz beams, leaning back a little on his heels to take in the wall’s towering height better. He aims an easygoing grin at a nearby passerby and the question he asks is casual and spoken with a lightness to it so that it rings innocent and thoughtless. ❝ Hey, do you think it’s climbable~? ☆ ❞

Now, the sky above is slowly beginning to shift into night, bright oranges and pinks bleeding away into black. There’s a telltale chill in the air that’s becoming more apparent as the last streaks of sunlight disappear, but Oz doesn’t pay it any mind. There’s a casual bounce to his step. He’s curious -- what’s nightfall hiding? (Plus, he’s wandered far enough into the city to become a little turned around, anyhow. Navigating back to his apartment isn’t going to be that easy.)

❝ Hey, mister~! ❞ he calls to a nearby stranger, an easygoing smile on his face. He doesn’t sound concerned or worried in the slightest, and his voice rings with deliberate cheer and an innocent sort of inquisitiveness. ❝ Everyone says it isn’t safe to stay out late -- do you think that’s true? ❞

  Although having no interest in actually helping to solve the current blight upon the city, he found living within its walls to be somewhat of a hassle between constantly evading both monsters and others hoping to team up, leading him outside the city enclosure and into the woods, which, despite containing a considerably higher concentration of enemies, felt far more comforting than the city itself.

Armed with only his fists and his wits, surviving in the forest under a perpetual night proved to be taxing, but he was no stranger to that sort of lifestyle, and the enemies themselves were more time consuming rather than difficult to take down – but as he progressed further, he could feel the presence of a beast much stronger than the ones encountered prior long before he heard it, causing him to halt.

–Yes, he could sense it not too far ahead, as well as something else–a different, less threatening presence, hiding–watching, waiting?–behind him. He turns his head, peering through the gloom toward the individual lurking close by.

“ Unless you intend to fight, you’d better start running. ”

It reminds him of Sablier -- of the pit that connected with the Abyss and the all-encompassing darkness within.

The everlasting night has turned the city into a labyrinth of unknowns with hidden dangers lurking around every corner; it’s the sort of environment where it’s ridiculously easy to just take a few steps back and simply melt into the surrounding darkness with nary a trace. What man-made light there is reveals nothing but long, looming shadows that hang off every object and every person. Oz’s own shadow clings to his footsteps, stretching out behind him in a way that is inevitably sinister.

There’s a chill in the air that keeps him on edge. There are chains out here, too -- but... well, no, they’re not really chains, are they? They’re beasts of some sort, but different; creatures native to this place, though ultimately they’re not all that dissimilar to chains, just monsters of another breed. Oz has few issues with them despite all the warnings he hears whispered among citizens; perhaps they recognize another monster when they see one and shy away. But in the end, the important thing about the entire ordeal is that people can now leave the city. It’s the best opportunity there’s been for getting back thus far, and Oz takes it, heading into the woods.

  Like a change in atmospheric pressure, Alice knew the nature of what she sensed immediately, and the impact of it was enough to overcome her in an odd nausea – knees locking up, she froze in place as the weighted feeling washed over her, as the impact of B-Rabbit’s presence descended upon her. The change came so suddenly that she nearly questioned what she felt, but within a heartbeat her legs were moving, her mind screaming to find the source.

Somewhere in this city, Oz is here.

Desperately running wherever her legs could take her, she tore through the streets calling his name. She must have appeared haggard, as a few locals attempted to stop her; but she ignored their attempts at approach, her mind completely closed off as the image of Oz being shot ran through her mind on a cruel repeat. She had been called back to his side, yet ended up here – she had no proof to say that he was okay, and the possibility of him suffering alone tore her heart to pieces at the mere thought.

She searched throughout the day with little luck, and the daylight soon faded to orange then to black. Although the magnitude of B-Rabbit’s power gave her some sense of direction, she still found it ridiculously difficult to follow, like trying to pinpoint the source of a sound while underwater – and she had followed the trail into the thick of a small forest near the local park, where not even the artificial light of the streetlamps could reach her. A portion of her would always fear the dark, and her ragged state only heightened her fright. Nervously glancing about her as she walked, the trees soon thinned enough to where she could get a glimpse of the park and the dull lights which surrounded it, and she almost picked back up into a sprint, desperate for light, when nearby movement made her halt. Near the edge of the trees she could discern the outline of a person standing motionless and … beside them, an enormous, shadow-like impression of a monster.

The breath catches in her throat, both mind and body frozen in place as she stared wide-eyed at the figure and the monster standing over them–one with them…? 

I don’t want to go near that person…!

But only darkness lay in the other direction, leaving her no choice but to take one shaky step forward, then another– closer, closer to that massive, black figure at the edge of the trees. She hardly dared to take her eyes from the monster, but in the span it took her to blink, it was as though a fog had cleared – the massive shadow vanished, leaving only the familiar outline of the one she had wished to find. Dazed, she blinks, rubs her eyes, looks again, and … yes, he’s even clearer, now.

Approaching, she calls out, hating the residual fear in her voice– “ O-Oz? ” / @falsifus​

Oz wakes up. This alone wouldn’t necessarily be unusual, but it is noticeably odd due to the fact that he “wakes up” already awake and on his feet, yet with no recollection of having awoken and still shaking off the fogginess of a dream. He’s given a rundown of his situation that doesn’t actually explain much, though Oz only half-hears it; whatever confusion he has fades into apathy just as quickly as it takes for him to work up the energy to be confused in the first place. It’s all over nearly as soon as it begins, and then Oz is left to his own devices in a place he doesn’t know at all.

For some time, Oz wanders the city aimlessly simply out of a lack of anything else to do. Though he apparently has... living quarters of some sort, a residence in this unknown location he’s abruptly found himself in, Oz pockets the room key unthinkingly and forgets about it. He finds himself torn between wondering if he is still dreaming and between feeling as though he’s just woken up from a nightmare that is -- was? -- reality. It’s all strangely surreal, though he doesn’t actively think about it and instead proceeds through the city as if wading through a fog. Oz loses track of where he's going and where he’s been, before finally stopping at a bench in a park of sorts and collapsing there like a puppet with its strings all crudely cut.

He loses himself in the total shutdown of feeling. His eyes glaze over and he stares into the distance, with nothing to focus on but the distant buzz in his head and the ache of knotted emotions in his chest that's seemingly drained him of energy, eaten away at him from the inside like an insidious poison and left nothing but hollow emptiness in its wake. Oz thinks of nothing, feels nothing; a shell with nobody really there.

The sky fades from blue to the bright reds of sunset, and Oz stares unseeingly at his palms and the crimson glow that the sun stains his hands with. It looks a little like blood, if he lets his gaze go unfocused. (It may as well be blood.) But then the color fades away into darkness and the park’s lights flicker on. Oz shifts just a little and something clinks in his pocket -- the room key. Right. It’s dark out now and though willing himself to do much of anything is like trudging through molasses, he pushes himself to his feet.

The sound of her voice is like the tug of a string upon a broken puppet, jerking it to life -- although he was technically awake in that he was not sleeping, it couldn’t truly be considered wakefulness until she called his name. He blinks with lingering sluggishness; even as he turns to her with surprise, the dullness in his eyes doesn’t recede.

oz vessalius / pandora hearts

15 y/o rich kid who likes to mess with people for the fun of it

plot twist, he’s actually a pair of plush rabbits that became sentient and is now inhabiting the de-aged body of the guy who formed a contract with him to destroy the world and who forced him to slaughter a ton of people. uh. it’s... complicated

thinks self sacrifice is cool

“a deliberate act of nonchalance” IS his personality

over-the-top cheer to hide his emotional trauma

you can’t feel sad if you don’t feel at all  [guy tapping his forehead meme]

in summary oz is basically this image