Application for Richard, "Looking For Group" (webcomic)

[forpony]

((NOTE: Link in the Hufflepuff answer goes to a YouTube video. If you do not have the stomach for a LOT of cartoon violence and gore and cute fluffy things biting it in an unpleasant manner, do not click it. Also, if you do you will never be able to listen to "The Little Mermaid" soundtrack the same way ever again. You have been warned. Also, I

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[endless_del]

Delirium occasionally drifted past the Sorting Room, just in case one of her siblings should decide to show up one day. This man-thing wasn't a sibling, but he did look rather interesting.

"What's a handfork?" she asked. Several butterflies fluttered out to inspect him, followed by a bee or two.

[forpony]

((Butterfly flambe okayed by Delirium-mun.))

Mmph. Butterflies.

"You get a hand lopped off, you stick a fork in its place," Richard replied. "Voila. Handfork!"

One of the butterflies got a little too close for his liking, and was promptly enveloped in a tiny ball of flame. Richard didn't even think about it. It was a reflex, at this rate.

[endless_del]

Delirium didn't often get angry. She might be the personification of insanity, but it was ordinarily happy insanity, with only occasional bouts of melancholy. Anger was very rare indeed, and generally only triggered by a few very specific things.

Messing with the butterflies was one of them.

Her hair shifted into violent disarray, her mismatched eyes narrowing. The butterfly (which was really only slightly hurt) fluttered back and landed in her suddenly furious hair, out of which poured a veritable swarm of bees.

"Don't. Touch. My. Butterflies," she said--quietly, but with a distinctly unstable vibratto that suggested batshit was definitely a possibility.

[forpony]

Ooh. Interesting. A tactful person would have apologized or pretended to.

Richard blinked. "The butterfly started it."

[endless_del]

Incredibly, she paused, and held up a hand. The butterfly fluttered out and landed on her fingertip.

"Is that true?" she asked. The insect flapped its luminescent wings once, slowly, and all the bees gathered around it, listening. "Oh. Well, next time, use a tire iron. Or maybe a mouse."

[forpony]

"No mice, sorry. Would a burning rat suffice?" If Hogwarts didn't have a "burning rat" problem, he could fix that nicely.

[endless_del]

His question was cause for serious consideration. The bees buzzed around her in complicated patterns, the butterfly still sitting on her finger.

"Only if I can call it Schmoose," she said at last, smiling, her momentary flash of temper already forgotten.

[forpony]

"You can call it whatever you want as long as it's not Dick," Richard informed her. He didn't see any rats around, but as soon as he did, it would be appropriately smoldering.

[endless_del]

Delirium tilted her head, curious, raising her finger to let the butterfly move to sit over her left eyebrow. "What's wrong with Dick? Did he steal someone's...um. I forget."

[forpony]

"I don't like the name. It's a very traumatic story. Would bring a tear to my eye if I had tear ducts."

Well, it was traumatic - for the father who insisted on calling him that.

[endless_del]

"I heard a traumatic story once. It had beetles and a yellow sock and two birds made out of plaid, and...um. I forget. You know, again."

Hey. She was being helpful! Really.

[forpony]

"I've tried to barter with a dead beetle," Richard returned, apropos of nothing. "Or was it a centipede?"