( @soulsustained, i suppose we are fated to be together in some way. )
     He didnât realize that he forgot what he looked like until Jinn had showed him.
     Thatâs right, his hair was dark brown before, body armored to the teeth and holding that damned scepter. It isnât visible under his clothes, but he remembers the mole that sat ever so slightly above his navel to the left, that one scar from the time a Nevermore almost ripped his arm off hidden below his shirt. Itâs all so familiar, yet... Not at all. Hm. Ozma, wasnât it? Perhaps that was his name, once.
     The immortal isnât quite sure what to call himself now, whatnot with the much smaller stature and distinct lack of glasses. Ozpin had grown to be a role that he was particularly fond of, and, well. Itâd be wrong, right? To take the name of the one standing right before you.
     â Oscar. â the doppelganger says with a lilt of hesitation, before nodding his head in greeting. Thereâs a tenseness that he wishes with all of heart he could dissipate, but that must be impossible when theyâre both looking into a mirror like this. Still, his voice is calm, soft.Â
                              â How are you? â
