He looked at her with lidded and fever-glassy eyes, committing her beauty to memory just one last time and trying to find anything in reserve to hold onto. "I woulda rather'd spilled jewels at your feet than all my sins, Cherie. Watched you teach them how to really shine-" He seized and his shaking hand became a digging claw around her arm. He gasped and panted in a sweat as he took over again, but the smell of smoke was stronger. "Even if I win this hand against War, I'll either burn up or poison everything around me. I barely have any control, it's gonna worse."