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The subject is starting to show signs of psychosis following the different treatments. See R. Tam Sessions and case notes on same.
She paced the small cell, eyes flitting in all directions. "This is not what you think it is," she told the camera. It was a blue eye, and next to it was a green one that no one else could see. The lips beneath those mismatched eyes were turned down in unhappiness, and the wild red hair above them was more like fire. Tendrils of fire curled up and licked at the ceiling, making the paint bubble and smoke. The bubbles seemed to sing, a harsh and discordant sound. There was a main melody of high operatic voices singing in Mandarin, another melody in Cantonese and a third out of sync in Latin. The lips beneath the mismatched eyes weren't moving, but she knew what they were going to say.
"They are only objects," she told them. "This River is not the river that can flow and bend."
buT iN tiMe You MaY SEe thE plaN I haVe FOR yOu. unTIl THen YoU MUSt be PATienT.
She swirled around in a circle, feeling the vertebral spines flex against the paraspinal muscles with every graceful motion. "This is not the way of the river, the thing that is girlcreature made flesh and bone. They would have the needles pierce and the flayed places hardened against the overload of synaptic transmission. There are measurements, accoutrements, guidements, wavelengths and waves to collapse and reform again."
RiVER, loOk aT Me.
She turned around and looked at the girl standing in front of her. The girl was slim and looked to be about the same age as she was, with fire for hair, mismatched eyes and torn clothes made of leaves, berries and vines beneath a black leather jacket. Her feet were bare and stained purple; there was a path of glowing violet footprints behind her. She held out a hand, slim and supple, skin white as milk or freshly fallen snow. To talk with her was enough to invite madness, yet she invited touch.
The girl that was once River Tam clasped her hand tightly. "Waxing and waning consciousness, altered perception of time and reality and function, modulations in cerebral function."
DeLIRiUm, the mismatched girl said with a smile. Her teeth were pearls, and they tumbled down from her mouth to scatter across the floor before turning into little white mice that scurried into corners. You'RE MinE, AnD i haVe PLanS foR You. YoU MUst bE PaTIenT. Her smile broadened, teeth suddenly reappearing and looking more like knives. ThE PieMAn is coming. SimPLe SImOn mEt A pIEmaN gOinG tO The FaiRE, tHen JAcK feLl DOwn and bRoKE hiS CRoWn and JiLLY tuMBlED doWn AFtEr. Her hand burned, and more than her hair was on fire, yet River couldn't let go of her. She could feel the fire beneath her skin, could feel the pale and sinister blankness creep into her.
ThEre'S a WOrd fOr thIs. tHEre's a wORD foR eVerYthInG if ONlY yOu knOw hoW to fiND It.
"The pieman will come?" River asked, voice trembling. She was cold, so cold, as if everything was shutting down. She would sleep, dream, fragment everything even further.
He LOvEs yOu. brOthErs alwaYS do. Her blue eye was veined with silver and looked like lapis lazuli, the green eye was full of tiny golden flakes that caught the light from her hair and reflected it out.
"They don't trust what they don't accept, don't accept what they cannot comprehend. It's not what they think it is. It's never what they think it is," River told the mismatched girl named Delirium. Some part of her, however small, was still capable of rational and logical thought. That part knew this was more than a girl. There was power here, concentrated other, and somehow she had been swept up in it.
Delirium smiled at her, a razor smile, the cold blankness beneath River's skin turning into a blazing flame. "They will. You will see to it."
Her voice was sharp, barbed wire puncturing flesh and drawing blood that tumbled down to the floor to create a pile of scattered rose petals. The vines from Delirium's blouse reached out and captured the rose petals, then devoured them whole.
River shuddered and let her reason break apart the rest of the way.