Your CS Pet Pairs? (NEW THREAD)

[Wildmagic_warrior]

Lady Francesca West

Sir Andrew West

Sir Jason Locust

Lady Francesca West stepped out of the carriage and onto the stone path, being as careful as she could with her new shoes. This was not the first ball she had been to, but it was certainly the most important. Every noble from every province was going to be here- it was the coronation ball for Queen Hanna III. A dark man came up beside Francesca and held out a hand. "May I escort you in, my lady?" The young woman looked at him, shocked, and then punched him in the shoulder. "Shut up, Andrew." She laughed as the young man rubbed the spot where she had hit him. "Francis," he said, piteously. "Is that any way to treat a gentleman of the nobility?" "You're not nobility, you great dolt," said Francis, taking the young man's hand. "Doesn't mean you shouldn't treat me like it," he pouted playfully. Francis rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. Andrew escorted her into the ballroom and stood next to her for a little while, a frown on his face. "This is boring," he stated quietly after a few minutes. Francis slapped her brother's hand gently, trying to shut him up. The night drew on and Andrew eventually left to dance with a young noblewoman, leaving Francis by herself. She found a seat and sat in it, watching the other guests make their way around the hall. The clock struck ten and she was about ready to find her brother and leave when a young man came up and offered his hand to her. "Care to dance, my lady?" Francis was on her feet right away, trying not to look too eager. "As you wish, good sir," she replied with a polite curtsy, taking his hand. He led her onto the floor and placed a hand on her hip, drawing her close. Francis took his other hand and put one of hers on the young man's shoulder, letting him lead her into a waltz. "What is your name, fair lady?" he asked with a charming smile. "Francesca West," she told him, returning his smile. "And yours?" "Jason Locust, madame." "It's nice to meet you, Jason." "And you, Francesca." "Please. Call me Francis." Jason had that dance, and the next, and a third. After that, he led Francis to a pair of seats and handed her a glass of wine he had taken from a passing waiter. Francis had never had alcohol before; it was not common in her house, and as a lady she had never been permitted to touch the stuff. She downed two glasses and began to feel lightheaded and hiccupy. She told Jason about her family, her home, and her brother. The young noble listened until she finished, and then offered his hand. "Care to take a walk with me? Outside, where we can get a bit of fresh air." Francis stood a bit tipsily and took his hand with a smile that felt lopsided. Jason led her outside and she went with him, completely under the influence of the heavy wine. Once they were away from the main doors, Jason leaned Francis up against the wall and kissed her hard, taking the young woman completely by surprise. Still drunk, she kissed him back, not realizing what was going on until he fumbled for the strings of her corset. With an exclamation of rage she pushed him away, gasping with horror at his actions. He put his hands out to her, pleading, apologizing. "I got carried away. I'm sorry." He came up to her and kissed her again, and she let him, brain still fuzzy from the wine. He ran his hand over her chest again and she made to shove him off once more, but then she felt sharp metal against her neck. "Sorry, sweetheart," he said, eyes soft. "You're gorgeous, you know that? You really are. I can't let you slip away from me just like that." Francis whimpered, terrified by the knife that he held against her throat. This time, when he started untying her corset, there was nothing she could do. He had almost undone all the knots, and Francis had closed her eyes and started praying to God to forgive her, when suddenly a strong voice rang out. "I think you should let go of my sister." Jason whirled around, taking his knife off of Francis's neck. Andrew wasn't armed, but he was furious and he was striding towards them. "She came onto me," Jason babbled. "She was all over me. It's not my fault. Please believe me!" That was when Francis punched him. It wasn't a playful punch, like the one she had given her brother earlier that evening; no, it was a strong left hook right the the side of his head. Jason hit the ground with a thud, faceup but seemingly unconscious. Francis tottered for a moment and might have collapsed as well if her brother hadn't taken her shoulders and held her steady. "Are you alright?" he asked, concern all over his face. "Yeah," replied Francis, shame making her dark skin flush crimson. Andrew nodded and let her go, kneeling beside Jason to see if he was still alive while Francis retied her corset. Suddenly there was a swishing noise and a sound like a butcher carving meat, and her brother's scream rang through the air. Francis whirled around and saw Jason leaning over her brother, his knife in Andrew's side. With a yell Francis was on top of him, pulling the knife out of her brother's side and sinking it into the nobleman's chest. "How dare you!" she sobbed, pinning him to the ground as he gasped wetly for breath. "How could you. How could you!" Jason died without answering, his eyes going blank and his last breath wheezing from his lungs. Francis let him go, horrified, and turned to her brother. He was lying still, so very still. Francis crawled over to him and nearly fainted with relief when she saw that he was still breathing. "Andrew," she whispered, cradling his head in her hands. "Come on, wake up. I need you. I love you, brother. Wake up. Please." Tears began to roll down her cheeks, blurring her vision and splashing onto her bloodstained hands. Andrew stirred and then moaned, opening his eyes. "I'd never... leave you.. like this," he whispered, then coughed. Blood splattered Francis's dress. People who had heard the commotion began rushing out of the palace, and somebody yelled for a medic. They arrived within minutes and heaved Andrew onto a makeshift stretcher. Francis stood up to hold her brother's hand as he was carried inside; somebody picked up Jason's body and followed them. "Don't worry," said Andrew, squeezing his sister's hand gently. "I'm not going... anywhere."

[s y n]

[ P A R T . O N E ]



Syxarious [♂] .&. Blaise [♀]

And the angels sing, "Let it shine, let it shine"
Dry the teardrops from my eyes.
The bells will ring when the blind lead the blind,
'Cause the dead can't testify.

It is said that your path is marked out for you. Sometimes it is easy to follow, as if you were handed a map with a clear path marked in bright yellow highlighter. And sometimes you are told to follow it, without so much as a compass. In these times, one strays off one's path, thus altering one's destiny. But what if you've never followed a path in the first place? What if one has no path? By that knowledge, does one also have no destiny?
It is a thought I've considered along the years as I've passed from city to city, from country to country. I do not let my life be planned out by some "superior being" that may or may not exist. If you do not lead your own life, you are simply a puppet with someone else pulling your strings, no?
My life isn't ideal. No, not by a longshot. I'm being truthful - even though I could be lying about being true and you'd never know the difference - when I say that I'm damned. I'm a murderer, a slaughterer. In my days I've even been labelled a witch. Oh, but I am nowhere near being a witch. Just an immortal, hellish beast that cannot be restored to its original form.
I am unattached, solo, forsaken, jilted. Anyway you put it, I am a lone being. I appreciate my solitude and do not ever experience feelings of loneliness. That is simply who I am.
"Syxarious!"
The warm, honey-sweet voice wrenched me from my thoughts. I glanced around, wondering idly who had called me, before I saw a woman rushing toward me. She was beautiful. Burnished peach fur, innocent blue eyes...
"You are the fabled Syxarious, Master-Demon of the Seven Syns, yes?" she asked with a light southern accent, seeming quite corybantic.
I nodded slowly. How'd she know? Then again, I shouldn't be surprised. Everyone knew me, especially around here. "That's me. Need something?"
"Paradisiacal!" she said with a bright, charming white smile. "My name is Blaise, and I'm looking for a questing companion to accompany me on my journeys. Who better than the cutthroat desperado of a Master-Slayer himself?"
I blinked in surprise. She didn't seem like the vicious type. No, she looked harmless, innocent. Maybe even a bit dumb-blonde-ish. But there she was, speaking with high intelligience and a demeaner that suggested she was not a woman of bloodless blades.
"I travel on my own." I said simply, gazing at her with dark blue-black eyes.
She took my paw, dropping a small but heavy sack into it. She opened it up, only to have marvelously shimmering jewels come pouring out. Jewels and gold. Rubies, emerald, silver, gold, pearls... There was a great amount of money here. She grinned brightly, sly as a fox. "Pay is good. Half now, half when the job is down."
I weighed the money with a thoughtful look, though I knew there was a cunning shine to be seen in my eyes. Finally I shrugged with an amused smile. "I suppose this'll do."
"Great!" she squeaked happily, throwing her arms around my neck in a tight embrace. Awkwardly, I folded my arms around her, glancing around. She then pulled away, locking my gaze and sending me flying into those blue eyes, lost as I fumbled around.
Breathlessly, I said, "When do we start?"




[ .e n d. o f .p a r t. 1 ]

[.:scales:.]

Alizica Summerwood ->

Destiny Springfeild~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~ Rosetta 'Shell lady' Whitewing___| ______________________________________________ | ___
___V ______________________________________________ V ___
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Sergeant Williamsburg_________________________________________________________________________________________________

Life on The Maiden Island was nice, but all that changed when he arrived

(story? just so you know, the maiden island was only inhabited with women and girls.)

[.a m a r y l l i s.]

Blaire + Shen

The things that I've loved the things that I've lost
The things I've held sacred that I've dropped
I won't lie no more you can bet
I don't want to learn what I'll need to forget

{ p.art one }

---

This is what's happening to me. Right now. On my big toe.

Vee, my dear, this is one of the most amazingly creative things I've read yet.
Needless to say, I'm very much looking forward to the next part.
♥

[d o e]

Hranil ♂ and Ezelia ♀

Farewell, My Victorian Sun


She was a bright girl in both mind and matter. She spoke with a sharp tongue, yet she was always polite. Ezelia was often described as a timid and fragile thing, by those who knew very little of her. Her friends, of course, would laugh and insist that they had the wrong idea, that the raven-haired female was quite the rebel and always outspoken. But her attitude was a playful and harmless one. Her comments weren't rude and they were meant for fun. The townspeople knew that and so they accepted it, laughing along with her jokes if only to see the bright smile that would appear on the girl's face, even for just a fleeting moment.

He was scum of the earth, a thief who didn't have the decency to wait until dark to begin his raid in the house he had selected for the night. He was quick to insult and always had a quip on the tip of his tongue. He was a blood-thirsty beast, eyes ever searching for his next meal. Or, so it would seem. Hranil was the fool of the town, that was for certain. A horrible baby, an appalling toddler, a shameful teenager and a horrendous young adult was what he was. He caused trouble for the community and he was practically banished from all activities. It was no wonder the male was constantly doing what he could to stir up the resident's attention. He just wanted eyes on him for once. And for a good reason.

So how in the world did they end up here?

Apricot met with honey and both held their gaze. A sharp intake of air from the boy and a low growl from the girl. He knew this would happen, already had. It wasn't often the thief crossed paths with the victim of his stealing while he was committing the crime, but it happened. And this certainly wasn't the first time he had been caught by this chick. It was like she could hear every little thump of his shoe, no matter how quiet he was. And each time she would run down those stairs, chest heaving, hair disheveled and sticking to her cheek, knuckles turning white as she gripped the banister. He would simply freeze and watch her, his expression caught between regret and surprise.

"I thought I told you to never come back," came a hiss from the bottom of the staircase. Hranil flinched. He hated that. Hated being reprimanded by her. His gaze lowered to the pristine floorboards and he sneered. Of course it was perfect. Everything was perfect when it came to her. She was just that way. He felt her continue to stare and he heard her breath slowly go back to it's normal rate. Three in, three out, one in between. A grimace. Why did he pay so much attention to every little thing she did? He could certainly care less about what she thought or did, that was for sure. Yet when he realized she was waiting for an explanation, he lifted his head and piped up.

"Excuse me, princess" he growled lowly, earning an angry yet shocked look from the other. Just what he wanted. "I'm not as privileged as you, so forgive me for trying to survive" he spat. Silence and...what was that? A look of concern? No, of course not. She couldn't care less about what happened - or was happening - to him. But what was with that twisted expression that was plastered all over her face? Oh well. It wasn't like he would ask her. "What's with that face? Worried about me?" Or maybe he would. After all, he couldn't pass up an opportunity to embarrass the little brat if he could. Even if no one was around to see.

Part of Hranil was expecting her to be speechless and surprised but, as he expected, there was no reaction. She always managed to prevent him from receiving what he wanted. That was just like her. "Of course not. I would never be worried about a criminal such as yourself. However, I do care about my possessions and I would prefer if you kept your grubby paws off of them." A roll of his eyes. Typical. He shouldn't have expected any less from her. She may have been sweet and kindly to the others, but she was downright rude to him. And he wasn't a criminal. He was just trying to live, since the shop owners refused to do any business with him.

Before the male knew it, there she was, standing face to face with him. Well, close enough anyway. Ezelia was petite and she had to stand on the tips of her toes and tilt her chin up, just to meet him eye to eye. This caused a chuckle to form in his throat and he couldn't keep it from pushing past his lips. Not like he wanted to hold it back. He enjoyed teasing and ridiculing her, even if it didn't completely phase her. And this time was no different.

The dark-haired teenager stood planted in front of the brunet, her face merely inches away from his and a look of concentration on her face. She looked as if she was trying her hardest to muster up something - strength, maybe? - and that forced another laugh out of Hranil. The look on her face would mean a slap across his, for sure. But instead there was pressure against his abdomen and that made the man's eyebrows furrow in confusion. Was that a punch? Had she gotten weak? He had felt her wrath and this was nothing of the sort. A quick glance down revealed that it wasn't a fist pressed against his stomach, but a plate with some sort of dessert sitting on top. He wondered when exactly she had managed to grab that, but his thoughts were cut off quickly when he felt something soft against his cheek and he was startled to realize it was her lips. His own parted rather quickly, to say something - what exactly, he wasn't sure - but she managed to cut him off.

"Merry Christmas"

His fingers wrapped around the china she had shoved in to his hands and he pursed his lips together, slightly confused but happy nonetheless. "You know, if you feed me I'll just keep coming back" he called after her when she disappeared up the steps. The only reassurance he had that she heard him was a sigh and the slam of a door.

(The title has no real association with the couple, other than the way Ezelia is dressed. I used a title generator to help inspire me, so that's why I used it c: )

[Lierre]

Luke---------------Lucy

"You don't think I'm ugly?"

"Of course not."

Story?

[Wildmagic_warrior]

"You don't think I'm... hideous?"
"Nah. You're just different, that's all."

[Lady Kiba]

Sol & Luna
The Knight and his Lady.

[honeydukes]

"You don't think I'm... hideous?"
"Nah. You're just different, that's all."

Awww <3

[Kangarose]

Just thought they looked nice together. C=