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The Journal of BurnedToast. 20th of Felsite.
Hesitris finally snapped. Whether it was from his wounds, or all the cats, or being in bed with another man for over a year, it remains to be considered.
He is currently crawling around the halls, babbling.
At least he's kept his clothes on.
He seems content, in a crazy sort of way, if he's sitting amongst furniture. He's laid out next to a load of skull totems, covered entirely in cats.
Still no sign of the Captain returning to normal duties, so I'm still stuck doing his job.
On the bright side, doing his job is a lot easier than doing what he's doing, down in the very depths of this place.
I try to go down there as little as possible. I don't know how he does it.