discipline.

Ink.
            work harder
     
      The rush of thoughts was unpleasant.  A rush of blood.

Kill all the lawyers.  She's coming up the stair- | Give her the key. | How many hours has it been?

A fade of blood.  

King sat on the framework, waiting for Female Knight to wade her way through the pressing throng.  Four fingers tapped nervously against the rough craftsmanship.  | wine | The glass rattled as the fist knocked on the wood impatiently.  

      "I'm home, King."