Feed Me || Fontaine Fortress

The Prideux frowned, his blue eyes sweeping around the kitchen as he hoisted himself onto the counter, he dangled his legs, continuing to look around at his surroundings .The simple fact of the matter was that the sixteen year old was hungry.

And cooking was one of the life skills that Julian thoroughly lacked.

Letting out a small sigh, he brushed strands of his honey coloured hair out of his eyes, pulling himself off the counter. Opening the refrigerator, he found nothing he wanted, and sighed again, this time louder and more dramatic. Slamming the door closed, he moved on to rifling through cupboards , to no avail.

"Ninette!" Julian called, leaning against the counter, his head held up in his palms. "There's nothing to eat in your house!"

She heard him moving around in there. It was impossible not to, he was making such a god damn racket, however she wasn't going to help him. If anything she was ready to yell at him to keep it down when is petulant demands reached her ears.

With a huff of her own, she rolled her eyes and stomped down the stairs into the room.

"What are you, five? You're little brother whines less than you." She scoffed and looked into the fridge. "What's your problem, there's food in here. Just cook it, dimwit."

"Because you spend so much time with my little brother," Julian huffed, though he couldn't but feel a prickling of guilt. When was the last time he'd even seen Tristan? But he ignored that question. There were more important things to worry about. Like his gnawing feeling of hunger.

"I would," he frowned, hoisting himself back up onto the counter, watching the pink haired Angelique with little interest. "But it seems that my parents forgot to teach me how to cook. Why aren't there any house elves around here?" Julian glanced around them, his frown only deepening at the lack of wrinkly little creatures around them. "What sort of Wizarding family do you call yourselves?"

She shrugged her shoulders, a knowing little grin on her own face, "I've spent enough time."

Hopping onto her counter she rolled her eyes. "The normal do it yourself kind. Surprisingly Rousseau, despite what you may think, not all of us are either rolling in it, or afraid to do a thing or two for ourselves."

Picking at her nails she looked up at the boy, "I suppose I could use my own cooking skills... if you were willing to give me something in return. I'm not a housewife at your beck and call you know."

He let out a little snort, shaking his head, "Some people just might find that creepy, Nine. They might think you follow little children around."

Julian glanced over at her, letting out a long sigh, flopping down on the counter. "Now, where's the fun in that? Why do anything if there's someone out there willing to do it for you? It just seems like a waste of time to me. Unless of course, this thing in question is pleasurable." A slow smirk crossing his face, his feet dangled rather pointlessly in the air.

He faked a shudder, grimacing, "There is a long list of things I'd rather do than be married to you. Let alone have you as a housewife." Despite his words, he still straightened up to look at her curiously. "And what exactly would I have to do?"

Ninette snorted, rolling her eyes, "You're the laziest person in existence, I didn't think it was possible to be as unable to do anything for yourself as you are until I met you. Its almost tragic really. At least I could do it for myself if I couldn't make someone else do it, you..."

She shook her head, before slipping off the counter, strolling slowly across the space of the kitchen, pulling the fridge door open once more, eyeing everything on the shelf.

"What are you willing to give up Rousseau, and we'll see if it fills the appropriate cost." She looked back over her shoulder with a wide smirk, "And don't be so sure - people would fight over the owner of marrying me."

"Thank you," he grinned, humming softly as he closed his eyes. "Then I have done my job well." Cracking open one eye, he added. "It's not that bad, being lazy. You should try it. Trust me, it's worth it."

There were a great deal of things he'd gotten out of just by being lazy. Hell, he wasn't even sure when he'd last done anything prefect related.

"Depends," he said slowly, shrugging a shoulder. "What exactly do you want?" Julian smirked back, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, in your dreams."

Ninette clicked her tongue, closing the fridge again and going to the pantry instead, pulling out a bag of pasta noodles. Pulling her bright pink hair up into a ponytail, bouncing high on the top of her head, she began to fill up a pot with water.

"Let's see... I always do need a good room clean, that's fun. Homework is so dull, though since we're in the same year I think they'd catch on -besides, I can get better marks for myself with out trying, than you can trying your best," a smirk pulled on her lips as Toby, bigger than he had been when she found him all those months ago wrapped himself around her feet. "I know... I do hate doing things when I'm nice and comfortable - an hour of servitude in exchange for lunch."

His gaze never left her, though it was easily apparent that he was more concerned with what she was doing than in the girl herself.

Hunger was no stranger to him. As a child, he'd been starved for accidental magic. He could spend days (up to a full week) without food, but that didn't mean he was at all inclined to do it. Pulling his knees up to his chest, a tiny smirk crossed his face, though there was absolutely no humour in it.

When he'd been allowed to eat again, stopping him became the problem; he'd eat to the point that he'd be throwing it all up.

He'd just never had a pleasant relationship with food, had he?

"An hour as your servant?" he raised an eyebrow, amusement written all over his face. "For just lunch? That's just-" he was cut off by the sound of his own rumbling stomach. Frowning, he prodded his abdomen, hating the gnawing feeling of hunger.

"Fine," he sighed dramatically. "But only because I'm hungry."

Ninette didn't respond, she didn't have to, he'd work it out on his own. If was hungry, he was either going to have to fed for himself or take her offer, there was no need to taught him further about it. So she didn't. Humming to herself Ninette merely smirked stepped carefully around her pet, and put the water on the stove to boil.

Her smirk grew as he spoke up, "I knew you'd come around to seeing things my way."

"Food for servitude," she held out her hand to close their bargain, "Its been a pleasure doing business with you."

Julian shook his head. She really was nuts, wasn't she? It was an amusing nuts, the kind that had at least kept him around for the last six years, but she was still crazy.

"Such a pleasure," he murmured dryly, unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Still, he grasped her hand, shaking it.

Ninette snorted, and pulled her hand away, wiggling about the kitchen as he waited for the water to boil, wandering back to the stove looking for sauce to go with the pasta. As her eyes skimmed her mind wanders.

"So, Rousseau," she slowly drawled, hand wrapping around a cold jar of tomato sauce, "What's new with you."

Small talk felt odd rolling off her lips, but that was what she felt like doing. There was no stopping her moods once they have made a decision.

Julian rolled his shoulders back, his hand falling to his side. His gaze sliding from the girl to her dog, he supported his head in his hands, his head tilted slightly. Looking at Toby made him wonder where the kitten he'd been able to sort of call his for the last few months was. Probably fast asleep somewhere, he mused, smiling.

"Oh, you know me," he straightening up slightly, shrugging his shoulders in an extravagant manner. "Having fun with girls in Azorat." A cocky grin spread across his face, he sighed softly. "Good times. What's up with you?"

Turning to move to the stove, to heat the sauce she almost tripped over the dog, jumping at her feet again. The irritation that she normally would express at such a situation was softened by the fondness in her eyes. She gently pushed Toby aside with her foot, "Watch where you're running you crazy mutt or you're going to hurt us both." Cocking its tiny head to the side, Toby gave he a wide-eyed puppy dog look before lolling his tongue out, and turning to the only other person in the room instead. Bounding over to where Julian sat he began to paw at the boy's leg for attention.

Ninette gave a snort as she finally got access the the stove and a new pot, pouring the sauce in as she water came to a boil, "I still have trouble believing girl's actually want to have fun with you." Pouring the dried pasta into the bubbling water, she flashed a smirk over her shoulder, "Oh you know, the same - having fun with the boys... everywhere else."

Julian twiddled his thumbs absentmindedly, continuing to swing his feet. Couldn't food cook faster? Mentally cursing at underage wizard magic laws, he sighed softly, blinking over at Nine and Toby.

"And a hurt puppy is just tragic," he piped up, flashing a smirk at the pink-haired girl.

Glancing down at Toby, a slow smile spread across his face before he leaned down, picking up the canine, letting him down in his lap. "He has good taste, you know. I like him." He beamed down at the dog.

Julian shrugged a shoulder, "I still don't understand why third year boys drool every time you walk past." He shook his head, laughing softly. "Trying to copy me?"

Glancing over at the boy she snorted at his fiddling habit, "You'd think a boy who use to not keep down what he ate, could wait a little longer for food." She rolled her eyes, "Oh and if you're still planning on throwing things up, I will hex you."

She stirred the food slowly, part of her wanting to tease him, taunt him just a little bit. The more he fidgeted the more amused she got. Toby, however, seemed quite content with the spot that he had pulled, wagging his tale, and lolling his tongue out with excitement.

"They drool because they know they'll never get any of this," she flashed a little smirk, "And if I was copying you Rousseau, I'd be having fun with the girl's in Azorat too. Trust me, I'm sure I could convince them to go for it if I wanted. Don't want though - tried it once, didn't go anywhere past interesting."

"Just because I can go ... a while without food doesn't mean I want to," he pointed out, shrugging his shoulders. Though he did stop fiddling, instead clasping his hands together. "Thank you," he rolled his eyes, though a smile pulled at his lips.

It was nice to know when people cared.

"But your hexing abilities won't be needed." He hadn't thrown up in months. The things sheer willpower could do.

"Wait," he raised an eyebrow, unable to help but grin. "You've been having fun with the Azorat girls? And didn't tell me? I would've enjoyed watching." He sighed dramatically, shaking his head at her.

She nodded her head as she pulled reached to pull the pot of boiling water off the stove, being as careful as she could not to tip it onto herself. The last thing she planned on doing was getting doused in hot water.

"Oh," she said airily, a knowing little smirk growing on her face, "It wasn't all that interesting; you know, just one of those things." Rolling her eyes she let out a snort. She bet Rousseau would have liked to be there.

It was as she was turning to go to the sink where she had already put a strainer, to dump out the water, that Toby on some excitement all his own, leaped off Julian's lap and right into her way, causing her to fumble and have to dodge the other direction to avoid a collision with the small animal. The rate, however, at which she had to do this, caused her to fumble the pot, water sloshing painfully on to arm, and before she could properly swear about that, the pot slipped out of her grip all together, spraying her leg with the water that remained.

He glanced warily at the pot, then to the girl. Part of him felt like getting up and helping her, but she seemed to be doing alright. And besides, this was Nine. He was sure that if he offered to help, she'd refuse it.

There were moments like these he wondered if she was sorted in the right house.

"You can't just leave me hanging like that, you know," he inclined his head in her direction, smirking. "C'mon, at least give me a name."

The events that unfolded were like a series of unfortunate events.

The world seemed to slow for a moment, and he found himself glued to the spot, simply watching as the boiling water doused Ninette. For a moment after, he was frozen, staring blankly at her, trying to wrap his mind around what had just happened.

And then he was jolted into action, beside her in an instant. He pulled out his wand, not caring about what trouble he'd get in for accidental magic. She was burnt. If that wasn't enough of a reason, then what was?

Once he'd muttered every healing spell that he could think of that could help, he met her gaze. "I think I'll just make a sandwich," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

For a moment Ninette felt nothing, and her gaze sort of lingered on her reddening skin with confusion, knowing there should be pain, put the shock of the whole things was holding it away. It simply wasn't there.

Then as Toby ran circles around her, yapping away though she was at a loss for understanding the small creature, a slow and steady sting, no burn began to sink into the affected skin. A string of swears were already crossing her lips as Rousseau managed to abate most of the pain.

Blink for a moment at him, she glanced at the skin and then back at him, "Guess I should be glad you aren't as useless as you look, huh?"

Julian frowned down at the dog, shaking his head at him. You were supposed to stay calm during emergencies, but the dog was making entirely too difficult. At least Ninette had the right idea. But the boy had to admit, the moments of complete silence from her had been a little terrifying.

He allowed himself the smallest sigh of relief at her words. The obsceneties were better than nothing. Shrugging off the insult, he twirled his wand around in his fingers. "But sandwiches are so boring."

Taking a deep breath, she slowly managed to get her cocky smirk back on her face, snapping her fingers, she glanced back at her pet, "Oh hush you, this was your fault anyway." The grumpy words were spoken softly, deflecting any menace that they should have otherwise had.

"Oh don't look so pouty," she rolled her eyes at Rousseau, and glanced at the mess around her. Although the water had spilled out of the pot, the food itself was still inside - she at thankful it had fallen right side up. "I'm sure I can still salvage this mess."

Glancing at where the burn had been for another moment, Ninette picked up the pot, and turned back the way she had formerly been heading. This time Toby had had the good fortune of staying out of the way."

"Now, now," he tilted his head, a tiny smirk on his face, the initial shock slowly wearing off. "You can't blame Toby for it. He's just a poor, simpleton puppy. Doesn't know much better." Julian shrugged a shoulder, hoisting himself back onto the counter.

"Cats are just better animals." After all, how many dogs could size-shift? He couldn't name one.

He smiled, nodding his head. "I guess we can be thankful for that." He watched her carefully as she walked, a paranoid part of him worrying about her burning herself again.

Ninette snorted, rolling her eyes, "First of all, Black's kitty doesn't exactly count as a cat." Most cat's did not in fact shape shift, that was the perk Nightmare had of being the Vampire's familiar. "And second of all, Toby's far more intelligent than you."

She could feel his gaze on her as she dumped the water through the strainer. For once in her life she actually managed to resist the urge to roll her eyes; although she wasn't willing to admit it, the half a minute ordeal had shaken her up a bit too. The subtle concern was almost comforting.

Rousseau just wasn't allowed to know that.

Placing the food - pasta and sauce - together on two plates, she dumped both on the table.

"There, a little more interesting than a sandwich I hope."

"Of course she does," he grinned fondly, bringing his legs up to sit cross-legged. "Just because she's better than every other cat doesn't make her any less of one, just like how me being amazing doesn't make me any less human." Rolling his eyes, he shook his head. "Keep telling yourself that, Nine."

He eyed the food on the table for a moment, grabbing a fork and twirling around between his fingers. "I hope so," he tilted his gaze back up at her, a corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. "But if this kills me, know it's all your fault."

Hopping off the counter, he sat down at the table, hardly hesitating before beginning to eat.