AN: This is in DIRECT response to s/8909731/1/A-Princely-Painting by the lovely PrincessxThexRipper, so please, read that one first... this will make SO much more sense if you do.


Sometimes things went so easily. Fran looked around at his handiwork and smiled to himself. The ballroom was splattered in red, as a dozen puppets trapped in his illusionary world spun in a macabre waltz. Flesh flared out from the twirling bodies in ribbons, his toys far too caught up to realize they were dying. It had been fun making them peel the flesh away from their partners...

And of course, what ball would be complete without music? He knew the melody his Prince liked best... Around the room, screams of fear and agony could be heard as Fran's 'orchestra' tried to escape the horrors he put in their minds. One had gouged his eyes out, and the beautiful soprano he'd found was repeatedly smashing her fists into the wall, screaming as she did. Everything was ready for his Prince's ball.

When the blonde received the formal invitation, he looked it over and grinned widely. His Froggie requested his presence in royal attire. Never one to disappoint the illusionist, Bel put on his best black pants and a red silk shirt. Thigh-high black boots completed his ensemble and he made his way down.

When a formally attired servant opened the door to the ballroom, Bel could only stand and stare for a moment. There was his Froggie, resplendent in a deep green silk shirt and skin-tight black pants, standing in the center of whirling dancers. As he stared around, he couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up from his throat. "Ushishishi Froggie... Have you been busy?" "Ara, sempai... Do you like it?" He walked over to the blond, peering up at him. "Very much so, Froggie... Ushishishi!" "Do me the honors of a dance then?" The petite illusionist held a hand out to the Storm. Bel pulled him into his arms and they spun in and out of the dancers, mindless of the fact that they were falling to the floor around them.


"VOOOOOIIIIIIIII! Every fucking year!" Squalo stared at the employee records before throwing his glass across the room. "Every fucking anniversary, I have to spend two goddamned weeks hiring new staff!" He gripped his long silver locks, wondering how the hell he could get the two young sadists to express themselves in a medium that didn't include human paints and canvases.