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Summary
Somebody sits down on the stool next to him. Victor finds himself wishing his vision were better for entirely different reasons, mostly because his other senses are very confused. Why does this person smell like chemicals? Bleach, or chlorine, or some other third thing that burns the inside of his nose.
He has a thought that something’s wrong here, and that maybe he should…
He…
Fuck, what was he thinking about? Ugh, the nose-burny guy is getting closer.
Or: Sonar gets cut from the Z-Team and goes to have a sad drink about it. Things rapidly escalate.
