Ahhh, this one.

He knew this one. Little monster of chaos. Little provoker of sins. There at the crossing of the threads of entropy.

There when the bones had walked. There to provoke the spawn of the newest Master. When Raheerah himself had stormed through the caves, this one had been trailing along close behind. Whenever visitors had come--the gift-bringer, the watcher--this one was there. When the fool children had ingested seething shards of the Spire, this one was there. When the first of them had at last sought out the ancient altar and traipsed down into the dark, Deli had been close behind. When magicka had gone sour in Eridanus, it had been there, destroying the Gembounds' goal, killing the helpless victim, provoking pointless combat. It was always there: a swirling maelstrom of color and madness, grinning lies and savage retorts, a force the Lord herself could have made--if it weren't so terribly uncouth. If there had been any elegance to it. Still... this one's origins were clear...

This one, he had watched closely.

The Collector's voice came smooth, purring. He was pleased to see Deli here at last, calling for him, and it showed audibly in every swipe of his tongue against his teeth, in each crooned syllable. Not fawning, no: but content.

He could have fun with this one.

"Hello, there. You call; and of course, I answer." His eight-foot black-cloaked height unfolded gracefully from atop a nearby stack of bones, as if he had always been there: one leg, then another, slowly extending down a hoof to stand quietly upright. Clawed hands clasped before him, and he offered a half-bow, the nobility of the movement upset only by the unbalanced breadth of horns atop his head. "I am the Collector. Tell me, have we met?" There was a grin in this question, the hooded head tilting back up from the bow at the slightest of angles, so that the crimson pinprick eyes settled on the dog--unblinking.

"Delirious," the Collector intoned, drawing it out into a near-drawl. "What a fine name." A fitting name. "May I ask why you chose it?"

And then he was sweeping forward, slow clicks of his hooves carrying him to the upright dog; one clawed hand extended forth. The talons were wickedly long, the fur of his hands grizzled gray and coarse. He offered it for a handshake: "Ahhh, hands. The sign of the civilized among us. You developed those later on, yes-? Well, there is a greeting among those of us capable of it: a clasping of hands, and a gentle shake." The Collector waited, expectantly, for Deli to take it; if they did, he would shake it, and in the meantime, scarlet eyes ranged over their body. He wished that he knew more of it. He had not been there, naturally, for every step in the dog's life. He did not know Deli's personality. What it might want... what its limits were. Its morality. He knew only where the junction of its existence had torn across the threads of fate, crossing, an accident each time and yet wasn't every step it took?

He wondered if the candy-colored splashes of pigment would change the taste of the meat beneath.

A smile crossed the Collector's face, audible in his words. "In any case, it is good to meet you at last. May I ask; for certainly, you mention tasks and so forth... but was there something that you sought? Something I could help you with, perhaps..?"

Hands withdrew, the Collector lightly mirroring Deli's pose with his own hands loosely crossed across his cloaked chest. He hmm'd and nodded along, and when Deli asked their first question, one clawed hand unfurled in idle gesture. "Why," he crooned, "of course I know of you. It's hard not to have; you've certainly made a name for youruself." There was a grin, or a smile in it; for whatever reason, the Collector sounded pleased. The purr in his chest rumbled through each word.

'Of course, I don't exactly offer my time for nothing!'

"Ahhh, a wise fellow with your time and effort, and one after my own heart. There is no point in wasting oneself without return, no? But I am of the opinion that the best business serves both parties well. That both wind up... improved. As for your requests, I find them... fortuitous; by fantastic coincidence, I have something I think you would very much enjoy."

The Collector turned, gesturing outward: a shimmering image of Deli perhaps a foot tall appeared, hovering, at his flicked fingers at about chest-height. Then, a cloak--not too unlike his own, but to close it around the front might make it a tad tight; this wrapped the image, black, a little ragged and faded at the bottom. "It looks like but a simple cloak, yes-? But it serves not one, but two of your wishes: it is quite spectacular for those with... let us call it, as you have, interesting intentions." A flick of the hand, and the cloaked figure became Orthoclase-Alpha: large, hulking, sneering, with no sign of the cloak. "Once you own the cloak, anyone that you touch while wearing it, the cloak remembers: and, at a whim, you can assume their guise. Their voice, even; its magic is strong, though of course there are giveaways for those who know what to look for. Right now, there are very few alive to remember; and so long as you are cautious, well..." Another gesture, and the image became Astraea. "Someone with your cleverness can imagine the potential."

The hands flicked away, the image disappearing. "Now, of course it is merely illusion. Your body itself, beneath the image, the voice--it remains unchanged. Still: a powerful tool and... as you say: clothes."

A shrug, a light spreading of claws, and then they slipped back across his chest, the red eyes settling on and studying Deli closely. "Does this interest you, then..? Of course, such a treasure is priceless; and information is additionally valuable. And so, if this item is something you desire, I would ask: what have you to offer in turn?"

The Collector frowned at this offering, though the expression was hidden beneath the hood. Random pieces of metal..? He was no Blacksmith. Gemstones, with no guarantee what was in them--or a sheep? And what use was a sheep to him? Still, the gemstones themselves piqued his curiosity; and the sheep and its stone had, at least, been a part of the caves' history. The upper echelons of it.

Even as nothing more than a short meal... but still.

Claws ticked against one another thoughtfully, the frown shifting from disappointment to pondering. "Of those, the two stones might perhaps be... interesting? But there is no guarantee what is within them. What of a combined offer; the information you seek, and the cloak, for the stones and... something more? You said you stir up a little trouble... Do you have anything in mind, Delirious?" His voice still held that croon, but this was the payment that truly interested him.

The Collector thought about this.

He had asked Deli for suggestions purely to get some idea of the capabilities they perceived themselves with; but their preferences were a currency as good as gold, their malice an open door. The Collector could work with Deli far more freely than with most; there was no need to pretend, to sugar-coat and dip in silver. This one would play with sour and tarnished just as readily, and that suited him fine.

"Very well, then. Let's make a deal; you can prove you are the right one for the cloak, hmm? Let's set your sights a little higher: you know of the multitude of groups within the caves, yes? -Here is what I want you to do. Kidnap one of their members--any of them, it hardly matters which. Hide your identity as you do so. Place them into the territory of another--confined, bound, however you see fit; and come to me. I will provide you the cloak to finish the deal... "

"For clarity, let us say you steal a little member of the Bonebound, yes? And put them in the territory of, the so-called 'Children of Rot;' you would then use the cloak to disguise yourself as one of those Children, and demand a ransom from the Bonebound. It does not matter if they pay or mount a rescue, you see, because the victim has been, indeed, left in Cetus for this task. Do you see-? You are free to kill that one, in the end, or whatever you see fit. I presume this level of... chaos... is not too much for you? Hmm?"

And, as an afterthought: "Oh, and if you wish answers for--let us say--five questions; I will take any of those stones in payment."