#falsemask

          “σн…” Something so… odd, had never been said to the man. He was normally the one with words when it came to something this intimate, how interesting this situation was, “ιƒ ι αм נυѕт α νιѕιση, ιѕ тнєяє яєαℓℓу αηуσηє тнαт уσυ αяє тαℓкιηg тσσ?” Vanitas hummed at the other man, trying his best to stand his ground. “αηунσω, ι ωσυℓ∂ ѕαу уσυ’∂ вє тнє ℓιgнт, ησ?”

             “σя мαувє тнєяє ιѕ ѕσмєтнιηg αвσυт уσυ тнαт ι ∂ση’т qυιтє кησω, вєαυ.”

        𝓐 𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓹 𝓬𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓻? No, no, this was just fine. Keep your distance and don’t let him in, don’t let get what he wants, that was the way to play it out today.

Sneaking out was always a lot easier than sneaking in. Especially when one could barely walk. Oswald crouched in a tree, watching the gardeners milling about. If any of them saw him, they’d report him. That would be a problem. 

Although, he doubted how long he could really hide his days adventure. Lacie was bound to notice a few things, namely the broken ankle, shattered arm, and eye swollen shut. The broken ribs weren’t overly obvious, but it did make it harder for him to move, and Lacie would definitely notice that. 

There was no more putting it off, Oswald slithered down the tree, trying to keep the weight off his ankle, his broken arm throbbing. His vision swam and he leaned on the tree trunk, catching his breath. Hopefully he could make it to his chamber without getting caught. Nobody had noticed his absence yet, apparently, or they would have come after him. 

“Arthur is not present.”

It was a firm tone, final. The door had closed shut, the youngest of the Barma siblings standing there. He seemed to be unamused, watching Jack with a cautious gaze. From the beginning, he had not trusted this man... Yet, when he voiced this to Arthur or Miranda, they would brush off his concerns and say it was anti-socialism.

Fools.

What was there to be congratulated?

A birth of a curse?

Another year he managed to survive until he fulfils his goal?

Or perhaps another tick of the clock counting down his time left here..? 

Somehow, that last idea made the most sense. Most wanted him gone or wouldn’t care so that is perhaps a thing worth rising cheers for.

He thinks of it as he walks, the sun had already set, the red haze extinguished and replaced by the dark night sky. It reminds him of his brother, dark and beautiful and so much more pleasant to look at than those red and yellow hues of the sunset.

His brother.. Will he bother coming back to the manor tomorrow? Vincent didn’t quite believe he should even wish for it, that he was allowed to. 

That is when a familiar figure pulls him from his thoughts. It seemed that this man would always find Vincent at his worst, but it was a welcome presence none the less.

“Good evening. Isn’t it a bit chilly to stroll around like that, Master?”

Dark grey clouds wandered low into the sky; it was a stormy atmosphere, dark and heavy, and the Hatter travelled with a real umbrella for once. Even the shopping district, usually so lively and loud, felt empty.

A deep rumble was heard - one last warning from above - before it started pouring down. The man was lucky he had been waiting under a roof.

There was something satisfying in seeing such a storm, Break thought. It was as if the world was frozen in time, white sound and black skies - And suddenly, a man by his side. Break merely glanced, mostly uninterested, before double checking as subtly as he could. Golden hair, emerald eyes... the other’s appearance was familiar.

Stupid Lacie and her stupid rules. It wasn’t even that Oswald wanted to go out, it was more that he wanted to be with his sister. She, of course, had taken it as in he wanted off the manor property. So, he’d been left with no choice but to run away, a skill his father had helped him perfect. He unconsciously touched his cheekbone, chewing his lip as he turned down an alley. 

Oswald had seen dead street people before, so the body curled up in the alley wasn’t a huge shock. At least, not until it moved. He leapt back, yelping.