WAAAAAAAAH! TEH PIT ISH SOWWY EVERYBODY! SHE DID NOT UPDATE AND FOR THAT SHE MUST DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIE! tries to jump off bridge

Jonathan: Bad girl! STAY SIT COME!

Sowwy Mizter Cavadger. Teh PIT ish very very very very very very very very four hours later VERY sowwy that she takes so long. She has had this finished for a while but she is too much of a lazy bum to update. So she will now

REVIIIIIIIIIEWS! four, once again

Monarch: You're makin' my head swell! blush Eh…Shawn's in 1887. Yeah…didn't really research timelines DUN HURT MEH!

Tears of Eternal Darkness: Thanks for teh fave. Teh Pit ish grateful. But she didn't update ASAP. Sowwy.

Bibbs: Yeah, I know what you mean. is like that a lot But I'm glad you like it. And you think it's freaky? Hmmmm…cackle

Jello-Is-Evil: Yes, your SN shall own us all. And I didn't mean that to be funny at the time, but I know what you mean when I read it now. And, yes, I need to get mine inspected too, but it would take years to sort all of the thoughts out correctly. The categories would be easy, though! Phantom of the Opera, Beyblade, Anime, School, Food, Sleep, LotR, how the BEEP am I going to get this finished?. That's all the things I think of on a regular basis, anyway.

Eh…sorry, onto TEH story now!

"Shaaaawn! Marry me!"

"No way! He'd never love you! He only likes me!" Shawn watched in slight fascination as the two girls began squabbling…over him. He shifted uncomfortably and tried to walk around them, but was stopped by two hands clenched onto his jacket tails. He looked back to see his two suitors with anger burning in their eyes.

"TELL MEEEEEEEE!" they shouted in unison. "Who do you love!" Shawn was quaking in his boots as he looked between the two. He had to come up with something quickly, something that would only minimally hurt them…

"The rain." He whispered quickly, pulling his jacket free of their now slack grips as he ran off. The girls where shell-shocked, and both burst into tears as he turned a corner. He had barely taken three steps onto the main street when a man who seemed nearly twice his size and the width of at least three of him stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

"Mister Calens…" he said, startled. The blacksmith rarely left his smithy before it was time to return to his cottage, let alone in the bright of the afternoon. His large smile scared the boy more then the two girls could ever as he grabbed his shoulder.

"Shawn, my boy! Come inside! Surely your mother must need something around that house of hers! A lock fixed, perhaps? A new frying pan? What of a new knife for your brother? Oh! The horse must need to be shoed!" The giant of a man drew poor Shawn to his side, showing him the 'beauty' that was his shop. "All this and more could be yours if you will just marry my dear little Alice…" Shawn was out the door by the time the word 'marry' rolled around. In fact, before that sentence was finished, he was behind the door to his room with tears in his eyes.

"Why!" he gasped out, pressing his hands to his eyes, already red and puffy. This wasn't the first time, but it would be his last.

He crawled over to his chest of drawers and opened the bottom drawer. Beside his bible, the first book he'd ever gotten, was a knife. His hunting knife, to be precise. He picked it up and fingered the blade gently, a fine line of red now tracing the length of his finger. He slowly lifted the blade up, his eyes staring to the ceiling.

"Forgive me, Lord." He said, and plunged the knife into his chest. He coughed and choked, blood flying from his mouth as he flopped to the side. Tears ran down his paling cheeks as he found himself staring at the wall, a few drops of blood rolling down it, like rain on a window pane. He laughed at the irony. Rain started this, and was of course, his last thought.

He blinked his eyes open slightly as he felt water cascading onto his face, eyes shutting against the downpour of rain.

Rain…but…he was dead, right? Dead people didn't feel rain, they felt clouds or fire.

"Frankly, those who are dead are just people who don't breathe or have a heartbeat anymore." He started awake and turned to the voice.

"YOU!" He screamed, leaping to his feet and looking around for something to hit him with before raising his fists. "Don't come an inch closer!" The man laughed and turned to face him.

"Drop your dukes, boy. You couldn't beat me even if I was at my weakest. Don't bother." he said. "Now come along, and don't even think of attacking me from behind. I don't take kindly to cowards. Oh, I took the liberty of giving you a bit of a makeover." Shawn glanced down at himself. His hair was the most unnatural shade of blue one could imagine, his clothes a few shades darker and something similar to what a man of high position in the army would wear, complete with gold buttons and epaulettes on each shoulder. A sword hung by his side, its jewel encrusted handle reflecting the otherworldly light from the clouds above. He was so badly scared he could do nothing but follow it helplessly, wondering just what he'd gotten himself into…

PRESENT

Shawn Cassidy is now the sacred spirit known as Dragoon, the storm master. He belongs to Tyson, of the Bladebreakers, and is faithful to his master. In the Bitbeast realm, he is my right-hand man. I couldn't be more grateful for him, because I no longer have to listen to the citizen's complaints. However, the majority of the citizens are young girls who have come to flirt, so it's not much different than in life…Oh well, we can't win them all, right?

Jonathan Cavadger

Woooooo! I killed Shawn!

Shawn: That's a good thing! D: You're so MEAN.

Jonathan: What's got your boxers in a bunch?

Shawn: My idiotic creator, milord. Yours too.

Jonathan: And not wedgies?

Shawn: oO That made no sense, milord.

Jonathan: That was my goal, dear servant.

You both are weirdos. Anywho, Ren's next!

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Au revoir!

SW/PIT