In his mind Wonderland's design is long gone, but now his delusions have crawled to light, and his room has adjusted to his needs. Even the unaffected can see the crumbling walls now, bare safe for a number of medical charts, faded articles, and even paler photographs. The floor is tile and cold, so cold, Christ, it's so cold, and on it Philip's every footstep echoes through the emptiness.
An operating table stands abandoned in a corner, steel and rust and stains of blood which offer their sense of familiarity, if not their comfort. Even the closet looks old and rotten now, but from it he pulled a marker, because his notes are gone, but he needs to recreate it, he needs to remember how it went, if he can produce another dose he can combat the effects, because it worked, it worked at least for a while.
ACETONE, he writes on the wall. IODINE. SULPHUR. ARACHNIDA. NITROGEN
Philip scowls.
He scratches at the back of his neck, and crosses nitrogen from the list.
Day II - for Ned (The Pie Maker)
An operating table stands abandoned in a corner, steel and rust and stains of blood which offer their sense of familiarity, if not their comfort. Even the closet looks old and rotten now, but from it he pulled a marker, because his notes are gone, but he needs to recreate it, he needs to remember how it went, if he can produce another dose he can combat the effects, because it worked, it worked at least for a while.
ACETONE, he writes on the wall. IODINE. SULPHUR. ARACHNIDA. NITROGEN
Philip scowls.
He scratches at the back of his neck, and crosses nitrogen from the list.