#dazzlxd 02

Ah, the other pink haired face he had remembered encountering not too terribly long ago. She was an oddity to him, still new, still fresh. Still technically a stranger. And yet her presence wasn't unwanted.

Not even now, when he could tell something was happening to him on a scale he couldn't bring himself to think too deeply over.

That first thought, of a familiar stranger, haunts his subconscious in a way that he thought harmless until his mouth opens and with it comes-

"It's funny in a way. I usually find myself among strangers more often these days. Likely because I feel the need to drift here and there trying to forget--"

His hand is quick to slap over his mouth to cease those words before the rest can tumble out beyond the Too Much he'd already allowed to escape.

Something cold slithers down the back of his skull and against his pulse as he fights back the harsh tickle in his throat. Like he had swallowed something and it had stuck itself to his tonsils. It is a few harsh beats of silence before he can clear his throat.

AZ knows that he is a piece of history. a myth of a man whose choices had led to suffering unimaginable. how many times had the legend been told? of a king who tried to revive his dearest companion; of a man who took countless lives in his madness- of a weapon buried for three thousand years. a forgotten thing, wasn't it? some things, he knew, should not be forgotten, and that was one of them.

if only he had reached out to someone, perhaps none of the tragedies would have happened. the punishment of the aura gods was well deserved, even in his own opinion, and fae-touched as he was, he understood what had been taken from him. he often said that the pain of it had lessened. he often lied.

now, he found himself in a peculiar situation. having come across a strange patch of flowers, AZ's brief interactions with those he passed had been ... well. he had never been one to be chatty and he held most everything close to the vest. and every time he stayed silent, another flower bloomed- beautiful, nostalgic things woven into his long hair. floette's favorite, he recalled.

coming face to face with the young woman and her friendly eevee was not expected, but not unappreciated, either. perhaps spending time with someone familiar ... since when was he the sort to truly seek out any form of companionship? he had what he needed, had made peace with ...

Swoosh.

This time, he's come to Vivianne. He doesn't want to startle her, so when he teleports, it's a few distances away, but not too far. "Vivianne." He had kept a listening ear out while they hadn't met. He knew she had been safe enough, thanks to Dam-bi and some other people.

There was an invitation sent by text for Vivi to meet Rixian outside of his usual stomping ground of the Golden Ward - he'll be waiting outside of the gardens, watching the pixies flit back and forth waiting for the command to cast their glamour.

He perks up when he sees Vivi, breaking into a smile and waving his fingers at her before his phone is tucked back into his belt, snapped into a holster he'd made for it.

"Suguru? Do you want visitors?" She asks through the door after waiting for a minute.

He hears the knock and almost ignores it until Vivi's voice trickles through. Deciding that it was better to talk to someone about what had happened instead of rotting in his room. At least, he had already fixed his nose and cleaned up from struggling in the snow.

The door is opened, revealing him in much more casual clothes than what he had been wearing approaching Gojo in the street earlier. The necklace they were yelling about hung around his neck. That silver ring catching the light as he dipped his head to look at the fluffy creature.