(Untitled)

[crazedingly]

[Walk into Delirium's 'house'. A hundred sleepless nights breeze past your face. The smell of hospital disinfectant and despairing dementia swirls in shades of blue and green in the maelstrom of colours. You might see a sundial that doesn't work, or a pool of live butterflies, or a stack of a thousand fevered hallucinations. You might even, if you'

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[himawariedingly]

[Wandering around aimlessly, just letting all the different expressions sink in. He likes this place, somehow... It seems lonely just like his own house, but not that cold. Not that plain.]

[crazedingly]

[Del's realm being constantly in flux, it may be that Russia doesn't see Del walk up, or it might be that she actually does appear out of nowhere.]

RUSSIAididn'tknowyouwerehereyouhavetobecarefulyou'llgetlost. [HUG!]

*kicks notifs*

[himawariedingly]

[Nearly jumps but looks up and smiles happily as he spots her.]

Why would I get lost?

[crazedingly]

People get lost. I get lost here sometimes. It's everywhere and the colours always change.

[toweredingly]

[Roland is really wishing he hadn't gone to investigate that smoke now]

[He actually did pass the siguls, but he didn't pay them much attention. They were just part of the scenery]

[He's mostly just having horrible flashbacks to what Walter showed him right after Jake died. You know, the whole universe-and-your-place-in-it thing?]

[...Del's realm is basically just close enough and just far enough away from the inside of Roland's head to make it the worst it could possibly be]

Gods...

[His eyes are watering]

[crazedingly]

[Have a teenage girl sitting on thin air several metres above your head swinging her leg as she plays with a butterfly. That'll make life less confusing and brain-breaking.]

It's not just Russia in my realm. You're another people in my realm. You're the one who won't let himself be mine.

[toweredingly]

Are you doing this?

[His hand goes to his head, which is sending sharp stabs of migraine-pain through him. His hip's hurting, like it hasn't since the Stephen King thing. It's kind of hard to breathe]

[His good hand goes to his gun, caressing the sandalwood grip as he looks up at her with streaming eyes]

Your realm? This is... Gan...

[crazedingly]

No, it's not gan. It's just where I live. I thought you weren't one of mine?

[haikuedingly]

[Hijikata, sick though he can occasionally be, is sane. And yet, there's something familiar in this place...]

[It reminds him of Souji, for some reason. Of the sweet, childish, playful madness, and of the coldness and sickness and bloodlust.]

[All of a sudden, the empty halls of Mibu Temple don't seem quite so unappealing as they did an hour ago.]

Where the Hell is this?

[And why isn't Saitou here to break the illusion or whatever it is crazy mystics do?]

[crazedingly]

[Del is sitting on her sundial, and answers his question with her back to him as she lets a butterfly flutter from hand to hand]

It's my realm. It's not Hell. Hell is different.

[haikuedingly]

[Processing. He woke up in his own futon, in the temple, so...]

You live here?

[He seems slightly horrified, but somewhat intrigued by this thought.]

[crazedingly]

[Stands up on the top of the sundial and walks over to the edge closest to Hiji, looking down at him]

I just said.