These remnants, rotting keepsakes of words and pictures are mnemonically residual. They are scryed, interfaces utilizing misfired sigilings, systems of incomplete quasi-alchemical call-signs and proto-symbologies loosely based upon borrowed (and in some cases stolen) artificially charged devices. When assembled into specific schemas, this soft machinery marks as it contains, and thus constructs the Terminal House.
Day to Night
Spoken to the corner of the room. Mildewed and the debris of lust. Solvent, iodine, carbon and dust. Subject to absolution. Pull out barbs and red rose thorns and burs and hooks and wooden teeth. Wash hands and feet.