Lion Head Mesa (ap) I wish you nothing but the gentle kiss of yellow piss.

bloodsport always came to a close - sometimes, sweetly so. shoko tasted the blood on his lips, the high adrenaline that pounded in his ears. a divine high, this.

reyes was under onslaught from every angle. if shoko had been bitten, he scarcely noticed - his gaze trailing the high pharaoh as he made his exit.

briefly shoko's gaze found arsenio's, then fell to the other mazoi.

whenever they were ready to take out the trash, shoko would lend a hand.