Log from December 4th (AM):
My Priestess and I...we have a lot in common. I think that's what drew me to her, initially. It's why I kept coming back to her when I can't even fuck her.
I knew I'd need to be around, for this part.
Crept into her room - those naughty, naughty nurses didn't even bat an eye, they were too busy with their nosebleeds. Robin was lying there, tubes up her nose and an IV bag full of blood. Chest all encompasses in casts and bandages and stitches and god knows what else. It looked as though it had been cleaned in there obsessively - I'm going to assume someone employed an Oathbreaker and they had an OCD freak out.
She'd have been mended in a second, if I'd slipped inside.
Like fuck I was going to do that.
I tore through that cast like it was tissue paper. Her chest was utterly wrecked; I have no idea how many surgeries went into putting that mess together, but it's not like it matters now.
I finished the job, tore out her mangled heart, and drank the muscle dry.