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Brice was having the strangest feeling of deja vu (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1268382.html?thread=64686494#t64686494). He was on his way back from a walk with his dog (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y115/Ekwy/fuzzypuppy.jpg), which was bouncing around somewhere a few steps in front of him, sniffing a wall and occasionally yapping to let her master know that she had found a very interesting smell that he should be aware of. Brice himself was mooching. He was pretty good at it. That, and apparently stumbling across crazy women outside the Popcorn Room, was a talent.

Twoey the dog stopped and peered at Delirium, her head tilted. Then she trotted up to the girl, her little tail wagging eagerly, and tried to sniff her feet.

Brice eventually caught up with the puppy. "Sorry, is she bothering you?" he asked politely, only raising an eyebrow to comment on her appearance. Though really, he was from the 23rd century. He'd seen weirder clothes than that. ...Surely.

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Delirium shook her head, delighted. " ," she said, reaching to pat the dog's head. The butterflies that were still fluttering around her head melted seamlessly into a school of luminescent fish, swooping and diving through the air. " ?"

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Twoey made a happy 'arf!' sound and did her very best to lick Del's fingers. Brice let her. If the girl liked, uh, doggies, then it couldn't really hurt.

Brice blinked at the butterfly-turned fish and shook his head quickly, wondering if he'd gone crazy, but the things were still there when he looked again. Alright then. Just... accept the weird things that always happen at Hogwarts, embrace the freaky stuff and move on.

"Nice fish," he commented a tad tonelessly. "You're at Hogwarts, darling. It's this magic school place. You don't remember being here before?"

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" ," she said thoughtfully. " . "

The fish, tired of being fish, drifted like smoke into tiny kittens, some of them flying back into her hair to rest. Her hair itself, bored, shifted from multicolored to vivid red, and she gave Brice a contemplative look. " ?"

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"I... think so," he replied and coughed a bit. Because this conversation was very odd. Twoey yapped cheerfully after the smoky kittens and her tongue hung out of her mouth as she tried to jump up to nibble at them. Clearly, the puppy did not mind the distinct lack of sanity that was very obvious around this girl.

"I'm pretty sure I'm me," said Brice after a moment's pause. "I wasn't a little while ago..." Why was he telling her that? He shook his head, frowning a bit. "If I forget who I am, it's never a good thing," the angel finished honestly and watched her hair with some interest. It was kind of nice, that. "Do you know who you are at the moment?"

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Delirium looked at him in some concern. “ ?” she asked. Sometimes she was someone else, but she could never remember who--they never told her, when she came back.

“ ,” she added. “ , .” She knelt to pet the dog’s ears, smiling at her. “ ?”

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"Someone else." Brice's voice was a little crisp. He didn't like to talk about this at all. He frowned again, and his hand found its way up to his hair, which he awkwardly pulled his fingers through. "I mean... I was still me, but I wasn't... It's sort of hard to explain." He sighed. "Just... Nevermind."

Twoey didn't so much bark as yap, and her tail wagged ecstatically. What a nice girl! She smelled a little peculiar, but that was alright because she was so nice!

Brice smiled vaguely. "That's Twoey. She's always herself, thankfully."

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Now, Robin was, among many other and varied things, a Puck. And, as such, he had (as the kids these days were saying) 'been around the block'. Several times. He had the VIP pass to the block and sometimes gave guided tours.

Which was to say that when the youngest of the Endless was suddenly walking down the corridor at Hogwarts, it caused the otherwise unflappable quasi-immortal to, well, flap. Or at least stop so suddenly his shoes squeaked faintly on the floor, spinning around with mouth half-agape. That ever familiar and yet heart-dropping scent of sweat, late nights, sour wine, and old leather filled his nostrils. Delirium. Who once was Lady Delight.

Of all the Endless, she was the one he once had looked for most, and, perhaps, was the most constant companion. Desire faded. Despair did, as well. Dreams were elusive. Destiny hazy. Destruction he wanted naught to do with and often ran from, when there was cause to. And Death was something the Puck tried not to think of. But the delight once had been his plaything; and, in the dark night of loneliness and isolation, delirium often ran rampant through his brain. If one knew every pebble because one had been present at its birth, the sheer weight of that would begin to press after the first several hundred thousand years.

Swallowing, hard, Robin bowed deeply. Not looking up, he said, voice rumbling low in his chest and heart beating rapidly, "My lady." She was of the Endless. Even an irreverent Puck could show respect to those that deserved it.

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((Repost because I lose at html))

Unlike her siblings, Delirium did not usually remember the minds she visited. It was not in her nature to remember things clearly, but in this case she knew well who Robin was. Some people, once visited, stuck in the mind.

“ ” she said, giving him the smile of the truly euphoric. “ ” She held out a hand, and one of the luminescent fish swam out and paused before his face. “ ”

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Gently fingers went out to brush the fish in front of his face, lips curling up into a grin. It made him look all at once childish and yet ageless and old. "You are, indeed, you today. And thus it is a good day."

Glancing over at her from behind the fish, he shrugged. "Your sister, the Lady Death, and your brother, my Lord Dream, were both here. But I haven't seen them in quite some time. It's possible they've returned to their realms."

He smiled at her. "Might I escort you somewhere, my Lady?" Delirium wandering aimlessly the halls of Hogwarts was, in the Puck's opinion, probably not the best idea.

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“,” she said sadly. “ .”

She brightened at his offer of escort, returning his grin. “ ?”

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"Perhaps they'll come looking for you," he smiled down at her, offering his hand. The name Barnabas didn't ring any bells - he wasn't someone who was close enough to the Endless, though, to recognize any of their servants or followers. More a cursory professional knowledge by default of being alive as long as the world. "I haven't had the pleasure of meeting him, if he is. But I'm sure you were Sorted into a House at some point, my Lady. Do you remember where it is you belong?"

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Delirium took his hand, smiling as the fish shifted back to butterflies and landed here and there in her hair. “ ” She paused. “ .”

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Her hand was cool in his, like liquid silver. Something impossible to hold onto and yet something more concrete than anything else he'd ever touched. Robin knew if he tried to contemplate it too much, he'd go mad (and would be in good company for it), so he smiled down at Delirium and curled his fingers ever so gently around hers.

"Well, if he's your doggie, I'm sure he'll turn up." Turning his eyes to the flitting sparks of butterfly-shaped color, he 'hmmm'd' a little. "Butterflies are secretive creatures. But, if we ask them, maybe they'll show us the way." If they'd been real butterflies, they probably would have - Pucks were good with all things living and growing. In this case, however, Robin knew that it was best to simply allow himself to fall into whatever world the youngest Endless wanted to create. So, waving his hand towards the butterfly creatures in a gesture that managed to convey both a question and a command, Robin waited to see what paths they might be lead down.

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((Repost yet again, because I still lose))

She gave him another grin. “ ,” she said, as the butterflies fluttered on down the hallway. She’d forgotten where she was, for now, but that was okay, because soon she’d be somewhere else anyway. Her shadow, thick and malleable, shifted along the stonework as the intangible creatures--butterflies and fish both, now--led them along a rambling path. “ ?” It was an interesting name for a castle, especially since she couldn’t see any hogs or warts--but then, maybe they were hiding. You couldn’t trust warts. They did that sometimes.

She did hope Barnabas was around somewhere--Barnabas looked after her, more or less, and made sure she didn't get into more trouble than she had to. Maybe Robin would help her find him--she couldn't remember if the dog had been with her when she came here, because she couldn't remember coming here. She really ought to...to...um. To not forget, maybe.

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A startled look flashed in his eyes and Robin swallowed, hard, before looking over at her. "You remind me that I'm not," he said quietly. It had been centuries since he hadn't been surrounded by humans, by the swell and stink and sheer numbers of them. Suffocating in the mortal masses, struggling to simply fit in. To blend into the background. But Delirium was... Quite outside of all that. To see her, speak with her, reminded Robin that he was something much more ancient and dark and lasting than the flesh covered dust in the proverbial wind whose world he was immersed in. The Endless exposed the lie that the time of the immortals was over and done. More things in heaven and hell, indeed; Delirium's realm had touched the Puck's mind more than once. And Robin was no human, was no mere man. Anyone who could allow him to fully feel that as he had not allowed himself to do for more lifetimes than he could count was precious.

"It's all the mud, I'm sure," he grinned down at her, following the butterflies and fish around the corner and up a flight of stairs. "Though the school's name, I have come to believe, is nothing more than a joke. To see how seriously students could take their studies when named after a swine skin condition."

She reminded him of George. Or, rather, the curly-haired young psychic reminded him of the Lady Delirium - who was once, in a time he faintly and achingly recalled, called Delight. George's open-hearted innocence had endeared her to the Puck, though he would have denied it. And now that same reluctant attachment had formed with Delirium. Gods help him, he was seriously considering playing nursemaid to one of the fucking Endless. This would not end well.

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Delirium smiled, a smile that was actually somewhat lucid. Normally she needed Barnabas to keep her even remotely focused, but because she actually remembered Robin, he was holding her attention at least within screaming distance of one place.

“ ,” she said.

Delirium, being what she was, never rationalized her existence--or anything else, come to that. She could never have articulated the difference between being among humans and being among…not-humans, but she knew it was there, in a muzzy sort of way. She saw so many humans so briefly, just before they passed into Despair’s realm--it made her sad, at least until she found something else and forgot. People like Robin, though--people who weren’t, strictly speaking, ‘people’--she often saw much longer; long enough for them to stick in her memory, and so feel like she actually knew them. “ ”

The fish seemed to know where they were going, which was more than she did. They usually paid more attention than her, even when they were butterflies or even bubbles. They flittered here and there, riding invisible air currents, flashing and glittering in the sunlight that poured through the windows.

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"That it is," he chuckled, squeezing her hand gently as the fish lead them onward. "Being a person is hard work. I like not being one, every so often."

It was hard to remember that Delirium was...well, what she was. She seemed young, innocent, full of wonder. And yet she was ancient and ageless; the embodiment of a cornerstone of human existence. What was any life without its blinding moments of delirium?

"Why not Tuesdays?" he asked, curious. Ah, Freud would have had a field day. Not with the lady Endless. With him. Why was he here, why was he caring for her, why engaging her in a conversation the Puck knew full well would not make sense to him?

In truth, Delirium was probably the only of her siblings he could have allowed himself to soften for. The others were too real, too immediate, too harsh. Delirium allowed for the possibilities of existences as of yet unknown. Death was feared, dreams were elusive, destiny uncharted and fixed far too concretely for Robin's liking. And he was no lover of destruction, necessary though it may be. Despair and desire were twins and old friends of his, but he loved neither. Delight, though - what delirium was born from, what she glimmered into - was forgiving and wild. She struck a chord in the Puck and he was helpless to do anything but respond.

"My Lady, are you hungry? Or thirsty? When we find your room, we can get you whatever you like to eat." He smiled at her. "Ice cream, perhaps. Or a root beer float - a little like your own personal cloud."

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“ ,” she said, as one of hers fluttered down and landed on her forehead. “ .”

She was happy right now--in a good delirium, rather than a bad. Her moods could shift so quickly and so suddenly; again, usually only Barnabas could keep her mind on one track long enough for her to sustain any one thought or emotion. When Delirium was happy, the butterflies swarmed so thick they were almost like a cloud themselves, and her hair shifted to every color of the rainbow.

“

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