dizzy flores death

Their movements were rapid and well-practiced, displaying years of training to hone their martial arts. They did their best to avoid touching each other’s hands, but contact was inevitable, each having to negate the other’s attack. Every time their hands met, jets of steam and smoke would hiss from the contact, with Falco’s water coming to a boil, and Viktor’s flesh threatening to crack from the quenching.

Should he do it? Just forfeit the match? To admit before the crowd that their prince was too weak to fight back? After everything that had happened to him, he had no pride left, nothing to lose. Maybe it was better to accept his failure and resign himself to his shame. Lying on the ground, he raised his arm, about to surrender, but stopped, thinking back to a conversation he had with Tarnas. It was during the year of training, the two of them sitting around the campfire on an autumn night. Seraph was staring deep into the flames, into the light and warmth, but all he felt inside was cold darkness.

Don't you worry about it I'll save some room for your last words After I do this, do that, and the third Disturbing the peace Look into my eyes Now tell me the things You're blabbing about behind my back The tenacity I hold It's hard to break down It's too late for apologies It's going- Some things may break me But always get back up New perspective gained From all the pain and stress And when I do come back I'm stronger than ever before So, kneel down Disturbing the peace Look into my eyes Now tell me the things You're blabbing about behind my back The tenacity I hold It's hard to break down It's too late for apologies It's going down.