[Tim was making a mess of the bathroom, which was why he'd wanted to get in here instead of having this bloodbath happen right on the bed. It was a lot harder to get blood out of a mattress than it was to clean it up off of tile. And thankfully, towels could be bleached to get the stains out of them.]

Oh, that's. That's good.

[His voice was kind of faint, mostly because the pain was starting up again, but this time in his head. Building pressure, like a migraine except so much worse, right behind where his horns should be. Tim groaned and leaned forward, head hanging, and pressed the heels of his hands into his temples.]

Oooh my god, just shoot me.

[The pressure built and built and it felt like something was stuck-- and, well, Tim already had horns, or whatever was left of them, anyway, so where were the new ones supposed to go? He moved his head like it was something that he could escape, except this was kind of a 'the call is coming from inside the house' situation.]

[Then-- a pop, and Tim felt warmth run down his face as the new horns pushed the damaged roots of the old ones out of their way as they came in, like adult teeth pushing out the baby set.]

[Tim wiped a hand over his cheek and it came away bloody.]

Okay, I really need that to be over with. It's, it's too early for this, today hasn't even started yet and I'm. I'm done, I think I'm done.