The Archfiend of Time

A semi-dependent blog for Demonlord Dualscar; apart of a bloodswap AU.

[p1x1est1x]

Damara gave a nod, and turned to open the door behind her. As always, it wasn’t locked, and a quick nudge had it swinging open. As flimsy in death, as it was in life. 

The actual inside was exactly as she remembered it. If… quieter. There were no dragons poking their heads into the main area from the only hallway in the house, there were no pixies fluttering by with their spoils from the junk drawer or the pantry. There was nothing but the furniture, the shimmer of wing dust, and the faint sound of music she had forgotten to turn off.

Perhaps it was not exactly as one would remember it.

“Welcome home, babe. It’s not much, but. It can be your place, too, whenever you visit. Which means you get first pick of couch seats. I’m just going to practically lay on you, anyway.”

Her home might be a bit too quiet, now, true. But, Damz mused, he was here. The love of her life, and, it seems, unlife too. For the time being, the mostly empty house seemed just about perfect.

[demonlord-dualscar]

The Demonlord breathed in deep as he stepped inside. The hive wasn’t exactly as it had been in the waking world, but even so, he felt a profound sense of comfort as he looked around. Her abode had always been his home away from home.

In many ways, it felt more like home than the Manor did these days. He has glad to be back. 

“First pick of the couch, huh?” He said, taking off his boots and setting them aside, followed shortly by his coat. “I almost feel like royalty.” He padded over and levitated himself to the other side of the couch, settling on the rightmost cushion so he could lean against the arm. He stretched his arms up over his head. He’d almost forgotten what comfortable furniture felt like; every sofa and chair in the Manor was practically carved from granite compared to Damz’s couch. 

“Apologizes in advance if I happen to doze off,” he said, stretching out his legs and sighing as he relaxed. “Your couch somehow has that power over me.”

[p1x1est1x]

She didn’t bother to surpress a tiny sound of amusement  as he spoke, leaning her head into one of his hands just a little bit when he put it on her face. In the dizzyingly hectic life she’d been living before her life… well, ended, and all the busywork she’d been doing since, she’d never once felt this calm.

The Communer, for the first in a very long time, felt grounded. And thank god for that.

“Heh… no, no. I know how to do a lot of things, but magic isn’t one of them. You’re the sorcerer in this relationship.” Her grin was slowly widening again. “Even if I could, though, I’m too thoroughly enchanted by you to do anything!”

She paused, then flicked her eyes back to the house. “You… want to come in? I think we have some things to catch up on. Preferably, on the couch. You look like you could use a cuddle, Cronus. Trust me I’m an expert.” This, of course, was punctuated with a wink. This is the Communer.

[demonlord-dualscar]

The Demonlord felt his cheeks redden slightly as she winked. Even after all this time, flustering him was still absurdly easy to do. He grinned yet again and nuzzled gently into her neck. “Hmm. An expert, you say?” He said, keeping a titter from his voice. “I shan’t try to dispute your claim, then. Who am I to argue with the words of an expert.” 

He gave her one last kiss on the cheek and stepped back, holding onto one of her hands. His fingers laced with hers. He looked up at her as he smiled, and in that moment, he felt as calm as the ocean at his back. Calmer, even. The calmest he’d felt in months.

There was nothing else to worry about. Not when he was with her. He didn’t have to worry about anything when he was with her. 

“Shall we go inside, then? I have all the time in the world to spend with you.”

[p1x1est1x]

  “Hey, hey,” Damz murmured, poking him in the shoulder a little bit. Not enough to hurt, of course, but enough to get his attention as she raised her head back up. Eyes still shiny with unshed tears, she looked him square in the face, looking vaguely distraught.

“I know you did all you could. So don’t you dare apologize. Don’t feel bad about what you couldn’t control, okay? You did all you could, for me, and that was a hell of a lot.”

She laughed, though it was a bit less ecstatic sounding than before. “Thank you for everything you did do. Best matesprit a girl could ask for.” Her tears finally spilled over the corners of her eyes, streaming down her cheeks.

But, at least, the Communer was smiling.

[demonlord-dualscar]

The Demonlord gently put his hands on Damz’s cheeks, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. He smiled, too, and softly pressed his forehead against hers. He felt like he could sing. That he could burst at the seams with bliss and relief.

He felt so ridiculously alive that it was almost unbearable. Almost. 

“I am the luckiest troll in the multiverse,” he said, “to have a matesprit like you. The absolute luckiest.” He closed his eyes and kissed the tip of her nose. “And I am utterly, undeniably in love with you.”

His mouth quivered as he tried to keep his composure. “Level with me. Are you secretly a sorceress, Damz? Because you’ve cast one hell of a spell on me. Not that I’m complainin’, of course.”

[p1x1est1x]

Damara grinned, shaking a bit of extra butterfly dust from her wings as she lighted down, setting the Demonlord down but not letting him go. Slowly, she leaned forward to rest her forehead on his, still trying to stifle a laugh that wouldn’t quite go away.

“I missed you too. Things have been so crazy since I… well, since the war started. I was starting to worry I’d never see you again….” 

The Communer begins blinking furiously, trying to dispel the threat of tears before they could fall. Drawing in a shuddering breath, she pressed a kiss to his lips for the briefest of moments, and buried her head in his shoulder.

“And here you are. Gods, I love you. So much.”

[demonlord-dualscar]

The Demonlord closed his eyes when he felt them dampen. His throat felt tight as he held the Communer, and he did his best to keep from shivering in her embrace. He rubbed her neck reassuringly, resting his cheek lightly on her hair. 

His lips still tingled from her kiss. He didn’t realize how much he’d missed the sensation until that moment. 

“I-I am so sorry, Damz,” he murmured. “For not bein’ able to help you. For not bein’ here sooner.” He exhaled, his breath almost a shudder. “I love you, too. More than anythin’ in this universe.” 

[p1x1est1x]

There was no activity within the house. The lights were on, and it sounded like Damara had left her music on, but the door didn’t move, there was no motion in any of the windows. Not even the sound of footsteps sounded within, trollian or otherwise.

This would quickly be explained, however, by the sound of buzzing, like insect wings in flight, and a pair of arms wrapped around the Demonlord’s torso is he’s scooped up and spun around in an extremely enthusiastic hug. “Hello, Handsome,” the Communer starts, clearly trying not to laugh too loudly, “come here often?”

She hasn’t set him down yet. She might not do so anytime soon.

[demonlord-dualscar]

The Demonlord sputtered in surprise, though it was quick to turn into excited, enthusiastic laughter as he was spun around. A wide grin stretched across his face. He wrapped his arms around the Communer tightly; as if worried she would suddenly disappear if he relaxed his grip.

For the first time in a long while, he felt complete. As if a missing piece of him had been restored. 

“Oh, gods, I missed you!” He said. “I missed you so much. I-I had no idea you were here! If I had I would have come sooner. Much, much sooner.” His fingers traced through her hair, tousling it playfully. “I guess the afterlife has done nothin’ to stifle your style, hm?” 

[p1x1est1x]

1’m pretty qu1ck tO get back On my feet! 1t was… TwO weeks? AccOrd1ng tO Xanthe?

But!!!! 1’m safe! And yeah, sure, check yOur phOne! Sent! 1 shOuld warn yOu - my ne1ghbOur 1s a real character…. LOOk fOrward tO see1ng yOu!!!

[demonlord-dualscar]

Two wveeks!? I...oh, nevwermind. I wvill be ovwer in a second!  ***

True to his word, there was a tell-tale pop right outside Damz’s door.  The Demonlord looked around, his brow furrowing when he noticed the familiar-looking hive bordering the Communer’s. In fact,  a lot of things about the dream bubble looked familiar. “Wait a minute...” he said, eyes-widening. “Eridan! Eridan Ampora!” He pointed sternly towards the ship-shaped hive in the distance. “You could have told me my matesprit was your neighbor! I would consider that need to know information!”

He slapped a hand to his face and let out a long sigh. Mortals. They were going to be the death of him. 

[p1x1est1x]

!!!!!

1t’s me. 1t 1s def1n1tely Damz. … Um. Hey, CrO.

[demonlord-dualscar]

I...I had no idea you had already appeared in the bubbles! It takes months, sometimes sweeps! I had no reason to suspect...

No, no, that hardly matters nowv. Are you safe? Can you tell me your current coordinates? I can be there in a heartbeat! 

[p1x1est1x]

@demonlord-dualscar YOu dOn’t use yOur blOg and 1′m dead but lOOk at th1s.

[demonlord-dualscar]

Oh my gods.

Damz? 

[eldritcharistocrat-blog]

Isyv extended one arm back at what could be considered an unnatural angle, grabbing a folded handkerchief from a side table to offer to him. It was about as pink as anything else in her house, but in the least, it might be a bit better than just using his hand. She managed to do all of this without moving the hand he’d grabbed, or even shifting her shoulders.

One of the many perks of being an Eldritch creature.

“The Communer… I’m glad you knew her, she was a good woman. And she helped you realize that you aren’t just a tool. She certainly knew you better than this… Lady English, or that serpent of a terror ever did.” Her expression softened slightly. “And she knew you well enough to understand you did all you could for her.”

She squeezed his hand a bit tighter, for a moment, stroking the back of it with her thumb. “And I did see how that turned out. If Golkoroth had been actually in that body… well, there would be no issue. But even then, I don’t think it would have helped you any. The problem-” She paused, gesturing widely with some free arms- “is not out there! The source of this… pain, you keep carrying, is in here.”

She taps his chest, so gently it could scarcely be felt. “You cannot solve a matter of the heart with nothing but external solutions, deary. And maybe you cannot solve it right now. But that day will come.” She smiled, then, widely enough to bare some teeth she quite obvious modeled after the Demoness.

“And remember - you’re good enough for her. I would suggest trusting her word over someone who doesn’t have the capacity for love.”

[demonlord-dualscar]

The Demonlord dabbed at his face with the handkerchief for a few moments, sighing as he collected himself. He’d heard the same thing before from the Felt, albeit with different nuances and, of course, a tad more gruffness. They’d tried to help in their own quirky ways. But Isyv’s words sunk in just a little further. He felt a weight lift from his shoulders, one that he hadn’t realize was there before. Without a word he turned and wrapped his arms around his Patron, resting his head on her shoulder.

He had much to do. A new timeline to manage, countless other tasks to oversee. The universe didn’t simply stop because he was mourning. Nor would Golkoroth be keen on resting on his laurels; the Demonlord knew a reprisal from the serpent was inevitable

 But, for a while, he could afford to stay where he was on that couch and not worry about anything. He hugged Isyv just a little tighter, mumbling out a heartfelt--if slightly muffled--thank you into the curve of her neck as he held her.

[eldritcharistocrat-blog]

She sighed, the way her chest and shoulders rose and fell almost cartoonish as she tries to emulate the expansion of lungs she doesn’t have. She takes a moment to gather in her hair with her topmost hands, styling it into, if it was not a now much denser cloud of stardust and tiny, twinkling stars themselves, would have seemed somewhat like a loose, messy bun.

It had an oddly humanizing effect, despite framing only a pitch black, featureless ‘face’ and four equally odd eyes. 

“I know you don’t mean it, Cronus. I’m just that little bit in your head, remember?” A hand reached out to pat his knee, cool as glass, but obviously intended to be comforting. “And I’m not angry. I want to make that clear. I just… I want to know… what is it you need help with? This feels like a cry for help. This, and all the hurt you put yourself through.”

She frowns, even if it isn’t all that noticeable.

“Help me, help you, ‘kay? What is so bad that you keep doing these things… to, what. Punish yourself? Shed light on the issue? Why are you so hard on yourself - even just now, offering to resign because of one little mishap…” The sharp slant of her upper eyes changes, clearly displaying her concern in lieu of actual eyebrows.

[demonlord-dualscar]

The Demonlord’s hand clasped Isvy’s--the one on his knee, specifically--and held it for a long moment, his own chest rising and falling as he inhaled deeply. He felt a certain measure of exhausted resignation as he collected his thoughts. No trepidation, or hesitation; just the leaden sense of fatigue he’d felt every since the Communer had died. 

“Lady English always told me,” he said, his voice quiet, “that I must be better. Nothing I have done in my lifetime has been good enough. I fall short time and time again, and she is there to tell me as much. Always.” He sighed, shoulders slouching. “Even Golkoroth was swift to reprimand my failures, in his own smug, condescendin’ way.

“Then I fell in love with the Communer, and she made me feel like I was worth somethin’. That I was more than just a tool. But I...when she needed me the most, I was forbidden from savin’ her. Some goddamned matepsrit I turned out to be, in the end.” He reached up and wiped away a few tears streaking down his cheeks. “It made me think of Lady English’s words. That I am never...good enough. I thought takin’ on Golkoroth would help overcome that, but...well. You saw how that turned out.”

[eldritcharistocrat-blog]

The door closed behind him, a few animate shadows that the Eldritch woman had decided to keep out of her main form idly floating about the dramatically decorated apartment - black and pink, what was anyone expecting - doing her bidding. 

As she listened to him speak, her form shifted slightly, displeased. Her lowermost arms settled on her hips, whereas the middle and top pairs crossed and steepled their fingers, respectively. Having six arms was very helpful for gestures. 

“Sit down, Cronus.” Her voice was just a tad stern, eyes all narrow as she gestured to the frankl oversized couch. “It’s clear we need to have a little chitchat. I won’t pretend I’m happy that you practically declared war on your old Patron. I’m really not. But….” 

She whirled to sit down, patting the space next to her. “I don’t think it’s all your fault, either. And I’m worried about you making more impulsive, destructive decisions because of it. So. Let’s talk it out. Eldritch Monstrosity to Time Demon.”

[demonlord-dualscar]

Cronus swallowed, cheeks reddening slightly as he sat down beside Isyv. He was more ashamed than worried. He didn’t expect a brutal reprisal from his Patron. That was Golkoroth’s domain, after all. But he nonetheless felt an acute embarrassment, and perhaps a lingering bit of self-loathing. Lady Isyv was much too good for him. A Patron like her deserved someone far more competent.

The Demonlord forced those thoughts out before they took root. This wasn’t the place for such feelings. 

He clasped his hands and laid them in his lap. His posture was closed, nervous. Tense, even. He took a deep breath, trying to ease himself out of the rigid position. His heel bounced up and down for a few moments before he could catch himself. 

“Apologies, my Lady,” he said. “For continuously worryin’ you. I seem to have a knack for makin’ people concerned, despite not meanin’ to.” He sighed, thumbs idly twiddling. “Not exactly a talent I want to have.”

[eldritcharistocrat-blog]

There was a significant delay, as the Lady of the house herself wasn’t there. Not at first, at least.

But slowly, the shadows that clung to the dark carpet and all of the furniture blacked and peeled up, nearly inklike as they melded together in the air, taking shape and texture as a familiar magical avatar came to life inside the little studio apartment. 

The figure shook out her head, fingers running along her bare scalp until the nebulous cloud Isyv called her hair finally thickened to her liking. The four eyes split open, toxic pink and pupilless, just in time as she opened the door.

“… Good evening, Cronus, deary. Sorry for the delay, I was putting my face on.” Her smile is tight, forced, though whether the cause was worry or frustration was unclear. “Come in, come in. Can I get you anything?”

[demonlord-dualscar]

The Demonlord stepped over the threshold, his coattails brushing at his calves. He looked far less resplendent without his usual plates of armor adorning him, but such a visit hardly necessitated battle attire. 

His eyes didn’t meet Isyv’s as he stood before her. 

“No, thank you, my Lady,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back and bowing his head. “Though I appreciate the offer. I will endeavor not to take up too much of your time. I know you are...substantially more busy than I am.” He sighed, his gaze still gravitating towards the floor, and the ethereal stands Isyv’s hair. “I apologize for my unprofessional behavior all those weeks ago. I...it was not how a Ward should have acted. It was reckless, dangerous, and I fully own up to the consequences.” He ran a hand through his tousled hair. “Perhaps it would be best if I tendered my resignation, Lady Isyv. I...I would not want to besmirch your reputation with my incompetence.”

[demonlord-dualscar]

The Demonlord looked at Lady Isyv’s residence, the corners of his mouth turning upward into a faint smirk. There was something rather amusing about a being of nigh-limitless power dwelling in such an unassuming abode. 

That seemed a rather common occurrence with immortals these days, though. Perhaps he’d find himself in a similar house, too, once he was free.

He shook his head, pushing the thought from his mind. He was just stalling at that point. Part of him felt a lingering knot of guilt for worrying his Patron so much with his reckless pursuit of Golkoroth, and it stayed his hand before he could knock. 

The Demonlord inhaled and held his breath for a moment, collecting himself before lightly tapping his knuckles against the door.

He owed an apology. Guilt wasn’t going to keep him from giving it.

[demonlord-dualscar]

Duel

[aetherialarchfiend]

She put her hand to a relatively mark-free portion on his good arm, carefully rubbing the area with her thumb as he wept. She’d been there. She’d been where he is now. She would have appreciated some comfort then, so she offered some now.

“If you really want me to leave, I’ll go.” She said, flicking her eyes over in his direction. “But if I go, I’m calling Isyv. You look like you could use some comfort.” She’d already started mentally reaching out the the horrorterror as she spoke, the process of stretching her consciousness out along that ancient link as intuitive as breathing.

She can feel Isyv fussing already, trying to get a view of what’s happening through the Demoness’ eyes. For now, Dem resisted, waiting for an answer from the Demonlord. It would be an invasion of privacy either way.

“… Please don’t do this kind of thing again. The rushing in and purposefully getting yourself hurt.” She eased herself back up, propped up on one elbow instead of going all the way up. “Believe it or not, you really don’t want to turn out like me.” The smile she gave in that moment was nothing short of sardonic, the blade of the remark aimed firmly at herself.

As it should be.

[demonlord-dualscar]

The Demonlord wiped at his eyes for a moment, collecting himself before talking again. His free hand gently clasped Dem’s and gave it a gentle squeeze. It conveyed a measure of gratefulness, and perhaps even a fair measure of trust. 

He trusted her enough to spill his heart out. Quite a far cry from the snide, bitter distrust he’d once felt towards her.

“Oh, come now, Dem. You are much better than you give yourself credit for,” he said, slicking back his hair. “You, unlike me, do not chimney smoke in people’s houses after they have graciously patched you up. That gives you a considerable leg up.” He smirked, giving her hand another squeeze before pulling his back.

He sighed, wrapping his arms around his knees. “I...suppose it would do me some good to see Lady Isyv. Mostly so I can apologize for worryin’ her so much. I did not consider the consequences of my actions before I challenged Golkoroth.”

[demonlord-dualscar]

Duel

[aetherialarchfiend]

Mabelle was silent, for a long time. Simply watched his wounds close, listened to him speak. It was almost strange, to hear him refer to her by her real name. She couldn’t remember a time he’d ever done that before; it sounded both novel and familiar, coming from him.

What wasn’t novel at all was the rest of it. The self punishment, the simplifying himself until he was nothing but a destroyer, a weapon. That was all so familiar that it felt like a knife being twisted in her heart. The Demoness sighed, and, slumping slightly, cast her gaze up toward the hole in the ceiling. The snow really was lovely, as snow always was. Drifting aimlessly to the stones. Perhaps it would melt, help wash away the ruin of such a sacred place.

Perhaps it wouldn’t.

“They say we choose the love we think we deserve, Cronus. Goodness knows, in most cases, that would say a lot about me.” She paused, shifting, summoning a small cloth to clean some of she sweat and tears from the Demonlord’s face. “But, I’m old enough to know that’s nonsense. Nobody… deserves anybody.”

She shifted again, this time to lay on the stone floor next to him, hands folded over her stomach as she serenely looked up at the sky. “She loved you, she really did. Don’t soil her memory with such poisonous ideas. And don’t you dare fall into the Destroyer Narrative. It’s not true..” She smiled, mostly to herself, eyes closing as a few snowflakes drifted down to land on the both of them.

“You’re so much more. I’m not saying you have to like yourself. Just. Be careful what serpents you hold close to your chest like that. Hypocritical, maybe. But none of this is what she would have wanted for you.”

[demonlord-dualscar]

The Demonlord took a deep breath. Followed by another. He took several, each one shakier and more unsteady than the last. He moved his hand to his face as more tears spilled down his cheeks, bloodied form shuddering noticeably. 

The Demoness was right. He did the memory of the Communer no service by thinking such things. But it still hurt. It ached in his chest; ached so much that he could only clench his eyes and weep quietly as he laid on floor. 

He wouldn’t let her hear him sob. She’d dealt with enough things that day. No need to burden her with his emotional baggage anymore than he already had.

Dimly, he became aware of his arm reforming. Magic turned into flesh and bone, weaving itself into a fresh limb that looked entirely unscathed by battle. The Demonlord sat up, eyes red and puffy as he looked at the damage he’d wrought. 

“You s-should go, Dem,” he said, drawing his knees up to his chest. He was decidedly less sore than before, though that wasn’t saying much. “No reason for you to stick around. I-I can make my own way back.”

[demonlord-dualscar]

Duel

[aetherialarchfiend]

She winced as he started coughing, extending her hands and her healing magic towards him. This was a bit too grisly to let slide, or leave for him to handle on his own. Not when she was right there, and not even bruised by her encounter, and he was right there, ragged and bloody. That’s not what friends do, not even to friends that they used to loathe.

“Well,” She whispered, forcing a little smile, “Crowbar told me not to follow you, and I’m pointlessly contrary.” Her smile fell as quickly as it came as she dutifully watched all the wounds for anything that might be stuck in them, or sign of infection that would have to be cut out before it could seal. “But you don’t have to apologize. I came to help because I wanted to. What kind of woman lets her Co-Ward fight one of their greatest enemies alone?”

She sunk, slowly, to sit beside his head, leaning on one palm while channeling restorative energy through him with the other. It would be slow going. She may as well keep him distracted while everything knit back together. “… Why did you do this, Cronus. It was hardly a waste of time, but…” Her frown deepens, and she looks terribly distraught, if only for a heartbeat. “You had to have known you’d…” She swallowed thickly, covering up her emotions again.

She didn’t expect a proper answer. She hadn’t even finished asking, so how could she?

[demonlord-dualscar]

The Demonlord looked up at the ceiling. At the whole he’d left. At the snow that drifted down from the heavens. Without the clamor of battle violence to break it, there was a serenity to the temple that he hadn’t noticed before. He could’ve stayed in that silence forever once his wounds healed. Curled up and let himself drift away on the current.

But the pain anchored him to the here and now. Pain, and the multitude of other things that weighed on his thoughts like anchors. He couldn’t even bring himself to look Dem in the eye as she spoke. He swallowed, a shuddering breath escaping him. 

“I...had a feelin’ about the outcome,” he whispered. “About what would happen. Would have wound up the same way even if I had prepared beforehand.” He swallowed again. “I just ran right in, Mabelle. Because I-I...I could not save my matesprite, but I could do this. I could wipe that fuckin’ smug smirk from Golkoroth’s face for a while.”

He closed his eyes, a few burgundy tears rolling from the corners. “At the end of the day, that is all I am actually good for, right? Fightin’ things. Destroyin’ things. The Communer, she...she deserved better than me. She deserved so much better, Mabelle.”

[demonlord-dualscar]

Duel

[aetherialarchfiend]

The Demoness watched the whole scene with a empty, apathetic expression. The names of Kings or their actions meant little to her, in the long run, and she knew she would have bigger problems as soon as they were gone. Her sword is sheathed, as clean as it was when she arrived, and her armor is idly looked over for any pieces that had fallen out of place.

Nothing, of course. The King hadn’t so much as managed to put a scratch on her.

She watched her adversary and his master vanish, hand resting on her saber in case he was about to try anything at the last minute. Then the wind, and she was left alone with the Demonlord. She turned to him right as she collapsed, her brow furrowing in something like concern.

Mabelle took a knee next to him, frowning.

“Demonlord, talk to me, do you need assistance healing?” Her hands were already warming up with magic, just in case. “Demonlord- fuck it, Cronus. You better not be dying again.” She sighed, summoning a roll of fabric to put under his head. If she had to, she could always cut it up into bandages later.

[demonlord-dualscar]

The Demonlord’s eyes were unfocused and hazy, blood dripping from a gash in his temple. At first it seemed like he didn’t even register Dem’s presence, until he drew a deep, wheezing breath. It became a wracking cough partway through, and his hand came to a gentle rest on his sternum as the fit subsided. 

“Hey, Dem,” he said, voice barely a whisper. “What brings a girl like you to a place like this, hm?” His lips curled into a smile, even as he coughed out an approximation of a laugh. One could see that his wounds were healing, albeit at a downright sluggish rate.

The coughing subsided once more. He blinked sweat from his eyes, staring up at Dem as his body throbbed and ached from a myriad of wounds. “Sorry for wastin’ your time. You...” He grimaced, feeling the socket of his missing arm starting to re-knit itself. “You would have been better of stayin’ home. Should have let me handle it.”

He exhaled shakily, biting down another round of coughing. “But I...guess I have a knack for that, huh? Wastin’ people’s time.”