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    Cell Block Tango

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    Ninette Fontaine
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    Cell Block Tango

    Post by Ninette Fontaine on Sat Dec 29, 2012 12:03 am

    She was taking up the entire bench on the far wall. It was both selfish and obnoxious of her, but Ninette hardly cared. What was the point. If she wanted to leave this stupid place, she could any time that she wanted. The stupid muggles couldn't stop her from apparating.

    Wizarding law could though. Ninette didn't care about the trouble that she got into with the Muggles, she was sure once free of this pointless cell she could get out of it with ease. That stupid whore she punched could be dealt with in moments. A little memory charm and she wouldn't remember Ninette even existed let alone that she preformed magic on her. However, apparting out of a full cell might get her into more trouble than she felt like dealing with. Basil probably knew the Minster - Julian definitely did - however Ninette did not think that Miss - or Mrs as she heard recently - Nikkala looked like the type to take rule breaking lightly. Knowing someone probably wasn't going to get her out of the trouble she'd be in. Ninette just didn't want to bother.

    "Care to share over there, Princess?"

    Raising her head off of the bench she was lying on, she raised an eyebrow at the rather sturdy looking young woman who was addressing her this time. The new comer was someone Ninette had neglected to notice was added to the cell - a proof at how little attention she had been paying to the world around her, for her new cell mate had made a rather noisy entrance. At present she let her gaze trail over her for a moment before she gave a droll little smirk and shook her head.

    "Nope." Not giving it another glance or a word, she laid her head back down, even daring to close her eyes upon the rest of the world. It didn't matter, she heard each foot step as the woman walked across the room, and was completely prepared when she picked her up by the scruff of her shirt.

    "I think someone needs to teach you some manors."

    "I think someone needs to teach you about clothes. This is designer you know. Cost me a fortune. Would you mind showing some respect?"

    Ninette didn't even blink as a fist made contact with her cheek. Turning her face back with a bitter smirk, she raised an eyebrow, "That's all you've got, really?"

    She was a blur, bringing her knee hard into the other woman's stomach and before anyone knew it the two were a blur of blond and brunette rolling about the floor as the other's still in the cell began to chant. It was so loud that they missed the guards pointed cough. He was forced to bang his knight stick across the bars.

    "Silence!"


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Alexander Dawson on Sat Dec 29, 2012 2:39 am

    Zander, as it turns out, might have been angry. Perhaps. It wasn't exactly readable in his expression, but perhaps that was the biggest clue at all. Her grandmother didn't seem the least bit worried, but Zander was, and that in itself was making him... almost angry. How could Ninette have let herself be caught in this type of predicament? Over a fight none the less.

    Coming into the muggle police station, he was a well oiled machine, tall and intimidating, not even a smile to grace his face. The white wife beater he was wearing showed not only the toned muscle hidden beneath his skin, but his ink as well. All things considered, the french police did not seem too surprised to hear which prisoner he was coming for, nor did they offer much objection other than a suspicious glance and a well placed whisper to check if he had a record.

    The guards who led him in seemed suspicious, one trailing behind just on the off change the boy tried anything.

    There was already a scrapping going on inside when they arrived, forcing the guard to eventually bang his baton against the bars to split it up. Before the man could say anything more, Zander stepped forward, his voice unimpressed and dissatisfied. "Ninette."

    He looked at the guard beside him, sending the man jumping to unlock the door. "We're leaving." He stated firmly, blank brown eyes sweeping over the other occupants, most of who shrank away from his gaze. "Now."


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    Ninette Fontaine
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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Ninette Fontaine on Sat Dec 29, 2012 3:10 am

    The growing crowed quieted and dispersed immediately at the sound of metal against metal and the firm yell. They all were in enough trouble, they were smart enough not to push it passed where they were. Ninette however, had no sense of boundaries when she was in a particular state, and that state had been brewing for months now - it had just needed the right push to start it. And boy had she found that push.

    The sounds of demands froze her companion, giving Ninette enough ground to twist the girls arm around pressing it painfully into her back as her face was pressed against the cold cell ground. "What was that you were supposed to be teaching me, again?" Her sickly sweet voice was covered by Zander's sharp yell. Slowly she glanced over at the door and met the gaze so many where cowering from.

    Part of her felt bad, but it was buried so deep within her, she didn't even really know it existed. The rest of her was just saying its about time the boy got angry about something.

    "Oh," Part of her wanted to argue, just because she didn't like to be told what to do. But this was a place she wasn't feeling like staying in any longer than she had to. Sticking her knee painfully into the other girls back just because she could, Nine gave a little smirk and got to her feet. "Did you hear that girls. You can finally have as much of that bench as you desire. I'll send you all Christmas cards, kay?"

    Straightening her jacket, she approached the cell door with her shoulders high, not a lick of shame or remorse in her. When the girl she had pushed into the ground decided to get on last jab in as her retreating back was exposed, the movement was tiny and unnoticeable. Her wand had been palmed when she got up, extending up her arm, into the sleeve of her jacket, only the tip was noticeable if anyone was looking. The spell was cast silently, and the reaction looked nothing more like a trip.

    Ninette's little smirk was the only thing that said that she did anything at all. And no one that mattered in the cell, no one that could get her in trouble, was paying attention.

    Passing Zander and stopping out the cell, she pulled her long blonde hair into a ponytail and raised an eyebrow back at him. Probably making things for her worse, but not having the sense to care, "Coming? I thought we were leaving now."


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Alexander Dawson on Sat Dec 29, 2012 3:30 am

    It was a simple twitch of his lips - opposite of its usual direction - as he watched her approach, doing nothing but taking her arm and walking off. His hand deftly slid the wand out of her grasp, slipping it into his back pocket before she could do anything about it, and leading her out of the building and down the road.

    Not a word crossed his lips.

    It wasn't until they rounded a corner into a deserted alley way that he finally faced her, eyes doing nothing but watching as he pulled her close and spun the ring on his finger.

    The world around them dematerialized, then reappeared with the surroundings of the throne room of his mentor, letting go of Ninette almost dismissively, tilting his chin upward as he glanced around the room.

    It was empty.

    Taking her arm, he walked off again, moving through the hallways easily enough to belie that he had been there before. Shoving the girl into her bed, he turned away, moving back to the door.


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Ninette Fontaine on Sat Dec 29, 2012 3:57 am

    His silence was odd, off putting should one wish to focus on such things, but there was no such thing as off putting to Ninette at the moment. She herself was so off putting the pair were rivalling each other for control of the situation. Who was causing the most problems, holding in the most anger.

    Who had the right to do so.

    "Gramps sent you," she drawled, looking at the room they had returned to. There was no other way he could have gotten there so fast. "And here I thought you were coming out of such great concern and affection for myself. Well wasn't I wrong. I'm sure I'll live." Her gaze lingered on anything but the boy ignoring the tiny thought bubble bouncing incessantly in her head.

    It wouldn't be the first time.

    She didn't put up a fight as he marched her down the hall. In fact she had gone rather limp by the time they reached her room, falling onto her bed sheets like a raggedy Ann doll, all stuffing and no limbs. "Oh, now who likes it rough." The girl drawled into her sheets, her face buried into the pillow muffling the affects. She sounded drunk, though she had not a lick of any thing in her system.Turning her head slightly, her dead green eyes, the muted colour of pond scum met his retreating back. "Leaving so soon? Had enough man handling? Off to some real, better girl now? Ninette Fontaine, good for a spin but nothing more."

    She heard what everyone said. She heard it daily, it wasn't that hard to spew it back. What else was there to do?


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Alexander Dawson on Sat Dec 29, 2012 4:11 am

    He froze, shoulders tensing as he listened to her words. His jaw clenched, and suddenly he exploded, unable to take anymore. Words flew from his mouth before he could stop them, hot and so full of emotion that is was almost too much for him. He wasn't used to feeling so extreme, so angry. He barely comprehended what anger was, let alone what it felt like. And here he was, living out his greatest fear, taking it out on someone he cared about.

    But perhaps that was what Ninette needed.

    It was so difficult to think straight, in this condition. What was he even-?

    "Are you insane?!" He demanded, voice grovelly. "Why do you do this to yourself? Why-" he gave a choked laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Look what you've done." His eyes were caught on a bruise on her jaw, and he swallowed thickly, pressing the heel of his palms into his eyes.

    "Oh, I'm sorry. Usually you can only just bare to put up with me, I was under the impression you liked being alone." His voice was all wrong, full of everything but concern. But he was, he was so concerned about her, it showed through his frustration, it shined through the fire of his eyes.

    "You've made it perfectly clear that you don't need me, so sorry if I thought it'd be better if I don't stick around."


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Ninette Fontaine on Sat Dec 29, 2012 4:44 am

    She listened, the words thunking hollowly in her brain. Each one rattling around as if nothing else existed in the vast space she was supposed to have other thoughts in.

    "Are you insane?"

    You'd be insane to turn an opportunity like this down

    "Look what you've done"

    You brought this on yourself you know. That little dance and game of yours.

    "Why do you do this to yourself?"


    "Because it hurts!" Her voice rose to match pitch with his own. "It hurts when I think-" she swallowed, stopped talking and grimaced. "It's easer to be angry. Its easier to just... get what I deserve."

    She let out a snort, bitter, and dark as her soul felt. The rise one would expect for her to give to him in response to his own built up anger just wouldn't come again. She deflated completely. If anything her stare got more blank, more lost to the world. The limbs that had still been flopping at lifeless angles folded into herself hugging until she was as small a ball as possible.

    "Forget it," she finally managed to croak, voice dull but still ringing about the room, as easy to hear as anything else. "Like, need, deserve to be, all the same in the end isn't it? Alone, is alone."

    Ninette would always be alone.


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Alexander Dawson on Sat Dec 29, 2012 4:53 am

    He watched her, watched the change in her. Unlike how anger was supposed to work, instead of blinding him to her emotions instead he was more observant that usual. He gave a faint huff, movements silent as she continued to hide away.

    Unannounced, probably unwanted, and not caring one bit, he flopped into bed beside her face first. Wrapping his arms around a pillow and turning his face away from her, he gave a discontented sound and closed his eyes.

    "You frustrate me." He informed her, with a huff. "Infuriate, more like. Annoying, really." No move to leave, was made, however. Instead, it almost seemed like the boy was- was he- falling asleep?

    One thing was for certain, he wasn't going anywhere.


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Ninette Fontaine on Sat Dec 29, 2012 5:04 am

    The bed bounced with his added weight, but Ninette didn't move a muscle. She stated exactly where she was, moving only when the springs in the mattress forced her and not an inch more. Her muscles had glued into place, stuck where she was, curled into a ball, on the smallest portion of what was otherwise a very large bed.

    Why are you so-so- Impossible?

    She wasn't sure if the feeling of his body close to hers was a comfort or not. After a brief moment, she realized she had slid closer to him without thinking about it. It was the only movement she had made - the girl was still wrapped tightly in a ball. It was ironic that she had made herself so at home on a hard bench in a jail cell but on her own soft bed, she couldn't relax a muscle.

    "Get in line."

    If she made people stay away, then maybe....

    Her eyes closed of their own accord, the single tear that rode down her cheek went unnoticed.


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Alexander Dawson on Sat Dec 29, 2012 5:12 am

    Giving a soft sound, he rolled, wrapping his arms around her to pull her to his chest, then resting his head atop hers. Hold tightening gently in a protective instinct, he curled himself around her, giving a soft huff. He muttered a short line in Italian, accent thick and tired.

    "This is the part where I say something about not liking lines and skipping to the front, isn't it?" He murmured. "Even though we both know staying at the back and waiting my turn is much more my style, that sounds exhausting." Pressing a soft sideways kiss to her cheek, Zander snuggled into her.

    "You don't have to be alone okay? So maybe just stop acting like you do." It was only a suggestion, clearly, but it was what he thought was best, and that's why he suggested it. "I'll just be here... for however long. Not like I have anywhere else to stay anyway."


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Ninette Fontaine on Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:30 pm

    Arms wrapped around her, and like always she stiffened. Each time was a little less than before, each time she came to expect it just a little more, but there was a natural reaction to the sudden touch, the confusing touch, the uncontrolled touch that she didn't know what to do with. In a sense it was unwelcomed, at the very least unasked for, but it wasn't-it wasn't like-it wasn't...

    It wasn't bad. Not really.

    "And if we say you skipped to the front of the line, what does that get you? What are you waiting for?"

    What do you want from me?

    Closing her eyes still hadn't blocked the sounds, voices ringing in her head. Nothing ever really stopped it, though for a little over a year now she had been able to keep it lowered, on mute for days, maybe even weeks at a time.

    "But maybe I deserve to be. What does my presence really gain to a room. Who would honestly miss Ninette Fontaine if she just disappeared?"


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Alexander Dawson on Sun Dec 30, 2012 8:25 am

    He paused, eyes opening slowly as he frowned, pulling slightly away from her. "What does the front of the line get me?" He repeated. He shook his head. "That's complicated. I don't want whatever your suspicions think I do, that's for sure. The other day I was thinking how nice it would be if I could reach out and hug you and you wouldn't flinch like I was going to attack you. You're backwards like that sometimes, you'll be fine against a punch but with a hug it's like it's painful." His voice softened. "I know what that's like. That's how I was, for a long time."

    "Honestly? I'm waiting for you to feel like you know me enough to trust- to at least know that I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not thinking of anything indecent when I hold you - or well, not most of the time, and the others is because you bring it up-" He was blushing now, but his head was still shaking, as was his voice as he became more self-conscious. Now, however, he was speaking the truth. That was obvious. "I just want to be near you. Is that so hard to believe? I'm not like other boys, I know. Usually I hate it, or I did, but it's hard to hate something that makes you different from things that are terrible." He sighed, flopping backward and holding the heel of his palms to his eyes again. "I know you won't believe me, it's not an easy truth, and that's what I'm waiting in line for. I'm waiting for you to trust me because I care about you, you're one of my only friends, and the only one who seems to be truthful despite my feelings."

    Peeking over at her, he wondered briefly if he should stop talking, but it was like he couldn't stop, he couldn't quite end the flow of words from his lips until everything he'd been thinking lately was out in the open air. "I just want you to trust me enough that when I tell you you're not a bad person you believe me. I mean, it's obvious that you aren't. If you were, you wouldn't feel bad about it. Bad people don't mind being alone, they don't care if they hurt others, and they surely don't hurt. Bad people don't feel like you do. And if you were truly bad, you sure wouldn't be as pretty as you are, anyway. The cosmos wouldn't allow it.

    "And you probably won't believe me but-" He took a deep breath through his nose and shrugged. "Your presence brings me happiness, and- and-" His eyes widened, and he swallowed. "I would." Zander's tone changed, sounding scared, lonely, and sad. "I would miss you."


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Ninette Fontaine on Mon Dec 31, 2012 1:35 am

    The ticking of the clock filled the silence that he left. It was constant and drumming. Normally she liked the sound in the silence, the way it melded to the room, filling the space in a way that made her feel like she was filled with it too. And if she was filled with the ticking then there was no room left for thinking. There was no room left for anything. But now it wasn't just filling. It was waiting, each tick impatient, angry. Each tick demanding something from her she wasn't sure she was ready, or even knew how to give. It wasn't Zander, of course, who was demanding things from her. She knew the boy well enough for that. He would wait, they both knew it, he had said it. But the mere fact that someone was waiting, meant that someone had noticed. And she felt bare of a guard in that light. No one had noticed, or at the very least no one had commented, not enough to make her feel like they really had noticed.

    She didn't know what to do with being noticed.

    "You may think that now but..." the soft voice she had spoken in dead before she even finished the statement. Who was she to tell him what he thought? Even Ninette didn't push that far on a normal day, she didn't have the heart to bother now, in her current mind set. He'd figure out he was wrong soon enough - whether she had to disappear or he figured it out on his own, she was confident he'd figure it out eventually. She supposed it wouldn't be impossibly that he was right, though she still figured it unlikely.

    The decision to do it, wasn't entirely conscious. It was almost impulsive, spurned on by the odd feeling that his pulling away had created, as well as his words. Rolling over on her side, she found his chest at the right height to press her fast against. Which she barely hesitated to do.

    "I don't think you'd mean to hurt me. But again, Simon didn't mean to either," her voice was almost lighter as she thought of her friend, but that only lasted a second, before another thought, another person slipped into her head. "He thought I was pretty too. I know that's why..."

    "He was so handsome. I think the cosmos slipped up. Or maybe he just wasn't that bad."


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Alexander Dawson on Wed Jan 02, 2013 2:23 am

    Though surprised at her sudden show of affection, he opened his arms for her, running his fingers soothingly through her hair as she talked. He was silent, listening carefully to her words. "You never give people a chance to heal you, do you?" He observed softly. "You don't let them close enough to let them hurt you, but you're already hurting, and you won't let anyone close enough to heal you." He paused, fingers still playing with her hair carefully. "I wish you'd let someone in, it doesn't have to be me but... anyone really. It would make you feel better."

    Something in her voice had changed. Perhaps it was the emotion behind it, perhaps she had tensed ever so slightly, but whatever it was he picked up on it quickly. "Who?" He asked softly.


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Ninette Fontaine on Wed Jan 02, 2013 3:06 am

    Letting someone in was easier said than done. It was, in fact, a terrifying thought - something that Ninette couldn't bring herself to do. Zander made it sound like a simple thing to do - let someone in, they'd fix you and everything would be good again. He made it sound like the most natural thing in the world. But there was more to it than that. If she let someone in, than she lost her control, and if she lost her control then how would she protect herself? She could heal herself, couldn't she? It may be taking longer but she'd be able to do it. Ninette Fontaine didn't need anybody, she didn't.

    But then why was she so lonely all the time?

    "What's the point of letting someone heal me," she asked softly, even more of her usual edge slipping off as she was getting closer and closer to the ledge of complete vulnerability, "If I can't then stop them from hurting me again?"

    She didn't know what it was about Zander, that made her want to do it. There was always the most likely possibility that he was just there, in the right place at the right time. But there was a secret hunch within the girl that there was something more than that. That Zander made it the right place. There were many things that she could deal with herself, she had worked through Simon's death, slowly and painfully on her own. The issue of being hurt, of course, still remained, but Ninette had deluded herself to a point where she didn't really believe that the two things were connected.

    However, out of everything she had worked through on her own, out of everything she had kept to herself, there was one deep dark secret, one thing that she had been trying to fix, to mend for over a year now, that was eating at her more than everything else. It burned and festered in every corner of her body, seeping into her blood and crippling her in ways that she couldn't explain. It hurt. It hurt on a daily basis and she didn't know why. It didn't make sense - it wasn't anything... special had occurred. It happened everyday. Ninette remade it happen time and time again, changing the circumstances just enough to think that maybe, maybe this time...

    She would pray that maybe that time it would be different.

    And it never was.

    Maybe Zander was right - maybe someone else could fix it. He said it didn't have to be him, but in the end Ninette wondered if it could be anyone else. Their relationship made him different, he himself said he was different.

    She wasn't sure what exactly the trust there was but whatever it was, there was enough of it there to make her wonder. Make her want to try, something different.

    "Tell me Zander, do you want to hear a story?"


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Alexander Dawson on Wed Jan 02, 2013 4:04 am

    He stayed silent, waiting as he had promised he would, as he had already been, as her mind whirred. Softly, he began to sing a song in quiet Italian. The lullaby that calmed him, sung to him as a child by one of the bartenders who worked the night shift. Sleeping beneath the bar during its busiest hours wasn't always the best, but he had gotten used to it as a child, and Cristina's voice had always soothed him. It beat the empty apartment upstairs, most nights, especially when his fear of the place as a child had rendered him to sleep under the bed. He had found it ironic that no monsters ever stayed there, and Leo had told him that monsters never hid where expected. Even to this day there was nowhere that felt as safe, to Zander, than underneath a bed.

    Now, however, wasn't so bad. He was not frightened of Ninette, and despite the vulnerability that seemed to be growing ever so slightly, he knew how strong she was. She would protect them both from harm, and if someone tried to hurt her...

    He was temporarily surprised at the rush of protectiveness that surged forward, but it was becoming more and more common lately. Whenever he heard of how someone had wronged one of the people he cared about, something in his chest darkened, seemed to get hot, and something raced through his veins. As foreign as the feeling was to him, it was starting to become familiar.

    He softened slightly, singing fading at the sound of her voice.

    "Only if you wish to tell one." He said softly, not wanting to force her into anything she didn't want.


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Ninette Fontaine on Wed Jan 02, 2013 5:07 am

    Closing her eyes, she breathed out softly; the musical part of her brain picking up his song and humming it to herself, although she did not speak a single word of Italian to understand it. The tune was enough for the moment. She hummed for a bit, until slowly she lost the tune and her throat was making nothing but a steady hum. She could see it as clear as if it had happened yesterday, projecting onto the back of her eyelid as if it were one of her favourite movies.

    Only it was something she would never wish to see again - she wished it had never happened at all.

    "Aldric Moreau was the most desirable boy in Beauxbatons - he graduated that year, just before you came so you wouldn't have ever met him. Doubt you'd even heard of him. Its funny how your high school popularity dies when you are no longer there to keep it alive." Her voice as she finally spoke was low and detached. She was not telling her story, she was telling a story of someone else. "Everyone wanted to be with him, myself included. In first year, he'd even rejected me horrible - Lisette too, it was the reason we're friends now, really. Misery loves company and all that. I didn't give up though, not really. We all want what we can't have, right?

    "I gave up pursuing him obviously; I'm sure by a week later he had forgotten about me, and I jumped back easily enough. I did what I always did, I pushed everyone away, was a total bitch to some people, while rather, lets say friendly with others. I'd say by third year they were already spreading rumours about me. By forth year I'd done things with half the male population that I didn't even understand what they were. Didn't stop them either. What was the point, you understand rumours." She gave a bitter little laugh, rolling her eyes behind the still closed eye lids. "Long story short, by the end of fifth year, I'd done a lot of things, I'm not going to say I hadn't, but despite the fact that my rumours had been growing even more adventurous, I hadn't done... that." She didn't know why she suddenly couldn't say it. In any other circumstance she'd be the girl standing there, a viscous smirk on her face, as she forced the poor shy person to say the word sex. Now however, the word just wasn't coming across her lips, and she didn't have the energy to attempt to force it to.

    "I wasn't in a good mood that night; I was, lonelier than usual. I had thought I'd trusted someone, and it turned out to be... not quite so. I just jumped to conclusions, actually, I know that now, but at the time... I just wanted someone to pretend to notice me. I'm not entirely sure how it even ended up being him. I knew where their was a party, the recent graduates were all there. I had grown up, so had he - it just seemed logical, that we'd, find each other."

    This was where her story stalled, sputtered, and died. Even detached as she was, pretending to be telling someone else's tale, she was coming up to walls that even she couldn't get over. She felt devoid of emotion, dead.

    It was the only way she kept herself from not feeling disgusting and dirty. That night, when she had come home, that feeling clinging to her, she had spent hours, hours in her shower, and she still couldn't get rid of it.

    "I hadn't wanted to. I mean, that wasn't, was not what I planned on doing, even wanted to do. I said no, I did but he just... the things he said weren't wrong. I did tease, I did appear as if I were willing to..."

    She swallowed hard, not even noticing that she was shaking, had been for a while now. Finally opening her eyes, she looked blankly at the wall, shrugging her shoulders in a horrible attempts at passing it off as the unimportant event she wanted it to be.

    "I didn't want to, but I-he-I... he did anyway."


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Alexander Dawson on Wed Jan 02, 2013 4:27 pm

    There was something about her humming his song that he liked. It was comforting to him in a way that didn't quite make sense... or perhaps it was just that he hadn't heard it from anyone but himself in a very long time. Cristina had been fired by his father when he had turned eleven, and Leo had never treated him the same after that.

    A sudden sense of foreboding threw him for a loop, the moment he heard the name. Aldric Moreau. His reaction didn't make much sense, though he knew that this story would change something between them, he didn't know what. He had not heard anything more than the boy's name, and already he felt a stubborn dislike for him. As a person who always gave people a chance, Zander was surprised at himself. He hadn't even heard what the boy had done!

    But the presence of Ninette against him and the growing protective instinct that seemed to be more and more present recently was starting to get to him. His heart rate picked up, his eyes narrowed, his body got just a tiny bit tense, but it was that which gave him away. As the story progressed, his hold on his friend became tighter as he unconscious pulled her closer, disliking where it was going.

    Not even he was prepared for his own reaction.

    "He what?!"

    Suddenly he was sitting up, holding her face in his hands. His touch was exceedingly gentle, his eyes searching hers, not wanting to believe her, but already the mere fact, the idea, was sinking into his mind and leaving a dark scarring that seemed to intensify as he continued to look at her. How could someone- How could anyone-

    Something foreign bubbled in his chest, waiting to explode like shaken soda. Something intense that burned like magma, something disgusting that pooled in his gut and tasted of iron in the back of his throat. Even as he pulled her into a tight hug, the darkness that seemed to be tugging him in all sorts of directions wouldn't leave him.

    What did a boy who barely understood anger know about rage?

    "Nettie..." He pulled away slightly, meeting her eyes. "It is not your fault." His voice rang with truth, sincerity, and something else. Something that coiled in his chest like a cobra ready to strike. "I don't care what you think, I don't care what you think you know. It is not your fault. Boys like that-" The thing in his chest coiled tighter, and his expression darkened. "-Deserve death." A growl rumbled in his chest, and he moved to stand, getting up off the bed to pace. "They don't just stop with one person, they vitimize hundreds, maybe thousands, and if this was all those years ago, even if it was just a one time thing..." He turned and pulled his fist back, ready to punch at least a dent into the wall.

    Suddenly, something occured to him, something that never had before.

    What was the point?

    Punching the wall would do nothing. It wouldn't make him feel better. It wouldn't help him heal Ninette. It wouldn't stop Aldric, or teach him a lesson. All it would accomplish was hurting himself, and maybe even breaking the wall in question.

    Wouldn't it be much simpler, much more advantageous if he punched the problem instead?

    Rather than the immediate dismissal ideas like this usually pulled from him, a dark sort of smile spread over his lips as he placed his palm on the wall. It wouldn't leave even as he turned his head back to look at Ninette, nor would it when he stood up fully. There was no slouching here, no self conscious Zander that was afraid of his own shadow. There was no room for that in this new emotion, and the monster inside him was calling for blood.

    "It is not your fault." He said again, running a hand through his hair. "It is no ones fault but his, and do not let anyone tell you differently. Not even yourself."

    He turned away from her, toward the door, maps of France and calls of animals spreading through his mind as he started to walk. "Don't go too far. I'll be back."

    But first, Aldric Moreau would pay.


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    Ninette Fontaine
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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Ninette Fontaine on Wed Jan 02, 2013 8:10 pm

    She felt dirty again. That clotting feeling of a thin, permanent casing on her skin. It was her best friend, time and time again. The second she let herself feel, let herself worry, it was there again. She didn't understand why Zander was still touching her. Couldn't he feel it too? It had to be getting on him, how could it not?

    Ninette didn't want to get it on anybody else.

    Although she heard his words, they were distant, and far off. They just didn't make sense; how could it not be her fault? When she paraded around the way that she did - hadn't that been what he had said? She brought it upon herself. Although Ninette had never been one for mindless listening, that one statement, it somehow stayed. Maybe because she could always see some truth in it. No, she hadn't wanted to go that far - and it was accepted that she had the right to say no at any point she wanted - however, Ninette did know why she dressed and behaved as she did. She wanted attention, she wanted people to notice her, praise her - want her.

    She wanted to be wanted. How could she then, turn around and not say it wasn't her fault that people did exactly what she had thought she wanted. Even if it didn't turn out quite like she had imagined it would, it was her fault. How could it be anything else?

    But he kept saying it wasn't. Over and over... Sitting perfectly still the girl began wringing her hands, looking as if she was washing them without water as she watched him move about the room. The expression on his face stirred something in her, but only for a moment, and then she was back to feeling froze, all emotions draining from her except for that ever constant feeling of dirt. It made her skin crawl in a way that made her want to tear at it.

    She hardly noticed when her wringing had become tearing. Her nails dug into the skin of her hand, raking down as the boy left the room. If there was any pain that was caused by it she didn't notice. Ninette didn't even know that she had done it, blood slowly slipped from the back of her hands, as sat waiting.

    He said he'd come back.

    The only thing that saved the rest of the skin on her hand, was her slowly closing eyelids. Before the first hour was up, she was asleep, a slow drip of blood dropping onto the ground, before the shallow wounds began to close themselves.


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Alexander Dawson on Thu Jan 03, 2013 2:38 am

    It was only after the second hour of her slumber that he returned, exhausted and half covered in blood, to crawl into the bed next to her and curl into her side. He did nothing but murmur apologies for the stains it would leave on her sheets and promise to wash them himself before he was asleep as well. He gave no thought to the image they would make to a bystander, and was surprised when he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder, and met the eyes of a gentle woman.

    Careful not to disturb Ninette, he listened to her soft words, nodding and falling back asleep almost before they passed her lips and she was gone again.

    Another hour, and he was slowly awakening, realizing that he had gotten blood all over himself, and Ninette too. Rather than panic, as many would expect, he simply pulled away slightly and looked down at her.

    She was so beautiful, his Bella.

    "Nettie..." He murmured, frowning at the state of her clothing. Giving a faint huff, he slid his arms under her and lifted her off the bed, cuddling her into his chest and moving into the cooler air of the bathroom she had attached to her room. It was spacious, and much bigger than any bathroom he'd seen short of school. Placing her gently inside the hot tub sized tub, he ran some water, careful to keep the water well away from her feet. He didn't know if she was still fully asleep, but she probably would not be happy with him getting blood all over her clothes.

    "Nettie?" He asked again, once the water was warm enough, but not scalding, he returned to her side, gently brushing her hair behind her ear.


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Ninette Fontaine on Thu Jan 03, 2013 3:12 am

    The fitful rest she had been having smoothed and relaxed as another wait was added to her bed. Her dreams had not quite captured her enough to make her forget what he had said. He would be back, and she was still waiting. The thoughts that had been plaguing her before his arrival, the unwanted hands that grabbed at her in her sleep, were replaced by the surprisingly comforting familiarity of his own. There was no obvious reaction to his touch, she did not snuggle closer, or move in anyway. She just let out a soft breath, almost like a sigh, and relaxed, falling into a deeper sleep than she had been before.

    When he awoke again - her Grandmother having already come and gone, and Ninette gave no reaction - Ninette was still fast asleep. The only reaction her name got at all was a faint hum, and a twitch of her hand. It almost looked the usual irritated motion she would make, when in her full mood, and completely conscious. The cold air of the bathroom brought her next reaction, slight flinch, something almost like a groan and she was pulling herself closer to the boys grip. The harsher light of the room, made the red marks, four on the back of each hands, seem brighter than they had in her room.

    The steam off the warm water, and the constant plodding of the water into the tub, tiny droplets splashing onto her skin despite the boy's care, slowly began to bring herself closer to consciousness. By the time he was brushing her hair back and softly saying her name again, it took only a slight tug on her part to pull her eyes open again. Her green eyes took in the boy in front of her, seeing the blood without really understanding it, before her eyes drifted to the water again. Without moving closer towards it, her hands began to start their wringing again, chaffing at the puckered skin of her self inflicted wounds, threatening to pull them open again.

    "I feel dirty. All the time."


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Alexander Dawson on Thu Jan 03, 2013 4:40 am

    He moved closer to her, stepping inside the tub and taking her hand in his. He gave it his full attention, pulling a wand - Ninette's wand - out of his back pocket and casting a simple cleaning charm. It took down the inflammation a small degree, and a small healing charm did the rest. Placing her wand down on the counter beside her, he offered her a smile, hoping to cheer her up at least in the slightest bit.

    "Then let's get you cleaned up."

    He wasn't treating her like she was made of glass, not really, but his gentle nature was an immediate response to her vulnerability. He probably would treat her like this on a regular basis if she wasn't so against the mere thought of it. Right now, though, he knew that harsh words and yelling would get them nowhere, and he didn't like using those anyway.

    Standing, he moved back to the faucet, pulling a knob that started the shower. He was careful to maneuver his body so that the brunt of the water didn't hit her directly, and instead offered his hand to her.

    They would get clean together.


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Ninette Fontaine on Thu Jan 03, 2013 5:30 am

    Her hand looked different in his. For a moment she could see it as any other person would, how she herself, normal would look at such a thing. For half a moment, just before her own wand sent the skin neatly knitting itself back together, she couldn't understand, she couldn't understand why anyone would do that, not to themselves.

    Then the moment was gone, and she was back to listening to that tiny voice in her head that said she had to get clean. That voice was almost disappointed to see the wounds gone, wondering if the new skin that replaced it was just as dirty as the old one. If it wasn't, she was sure contact with the rest of her skin wouldn't let it take long to make it dirty.

    Staring at the outstretched hand, she took long time to take it. Part of her once again wondering if she could spread her filth to him by mere contact. The water spraying down the back of him finally convinced her that it didn't matter. She wasn't to be clean so badly she'd take whatever option it was to get there. Slowly she folded her fingers around his and pulled herself up, returning his smile minutes after he had given it to her. It wasn't big, it wasn't bright, and it didn't quite remove everything that was lurking in her eyes, but it was there none the less.

    "Okay."

    The warm water spilled around them both, and she found herself pulling closer to him, perhaps for the comfort he himself brought, or perhaps just to get closer to the water. Either way, as she watched the liquid, pink in colour coloured pool and disappear down the drawn, she thought she could imagine something else disappearing with it. Maybe, she would finally feel a little more clean.

    "Zander, did he ask you to stop?" It was the first acknowledgement she had made of where he disappeared to, the first sign to indicate that she understood exactly what he had done and who he had done it too. "Did he tell you he didn't want you to do it, but you did anyway?"


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Alexander Dawson on Thu Jan 03, 2013 5:54 am

    He was patient with her - he always had been, and he always would be - the creature in his chest soothed by his act of rampant violence. First, he took a bar of soap to his own hands, washing his hands and forearms rather thoroughly before taking one of her hands and diligently washing that too. Gently, he made his way up her arm, rubbing the bar of soap over her skin with the careful intensity that proved it was really getting done. The suds grew over her flesh, white and pure, but he scrubbed as if getting off age old filth. If she believed it was there, it would take a true effort for her to believe it was gone, and maybe even more than that.

    Finished with that hand, he moved slightly, letting the shower rinse it clean again. Smiling, he reached over and squeezed a healthy amount of shampoo onto the palm of her hand. "Here. Wash my hair for me." He instructed, starting on her other hand. "It will go much quicker if we help each other." Leaning toward her as he was, it would be easy for her to reach his his hair, and the water had soaked it enough that he would probably get a decent amount of suds out of it as well.

    Pausing in his scrubbing, he gazed down at her, brown eyes unreadable. He didn't want to tell her. He didn't want her to think him similar to the boy who'd mistreated her, who'd taken advantage, but he wouldn't lie to her. Not now, not ever.

    "I told him-" He paused, glancing away from her gaze for a brief moment before looking back at her. "I told him if he had stopped, I never would have started." The truth shined in his eyes, was evident in the tremor of his voice. "He told me- asked me- begged me to stop and I-" He shook his head, looking back at her arm and continuing his scrubbing. "I didn't."


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

    Post by Ninette Fontaine on Thu Jan 03, 2013 6:21 am

    The soap was soothing. The scrubbing, although firm, was relaxing to her muscles as well as her mind. The problems that were there, were far from fixed, but for the moment she actually felt as if something was coming off. Maybe, just maybe, she could be clean at least for a little bit.

    Ninette glanced at the liquid in her hand, for a long moment, watching it ooze before she looked back up at the boy, "Are you sure you wan-" she stopped herself before she finished. Then she couldn't completely follow the former logic that had driven her to that question. The hand was clean, and it was soap that she was using anyway. If there was any dirt left to transfer to him, the shampoo would wash it away.

    She stopped thinking so much and followed orders, working in the soap meticulously with her fingers. As she did so, she began to hum. It wasn't long before words were softly accompanying them in her melodic voice.

    "I wish I could tie you up in my shoes
    Make you feel unpretty too.
    I was told I was beautiful.
    What does that mean to you?
    "


    She stopped singing to listen to him, meeting his gaze with dark solemn one of her own. Something was stirring deep in her stomach, something dark and alive. It was the most reaction that she had given all day. Perhaps some might have thought she should have been disgusted, or offended by what she was hearing, but it was just the opposite.

    A dark little grin pulled on her lips.

    She was satisfied.

    "Good." Nodding her head, she went back to what she was doing. Finishing running the shampoo through his hair with a point. It was most likely that that was all she was ever going to say on the topic. It was all she felt was necessary.

    She went back to singing.

    "My outsides are cool
    My insides are blue
    Everytime I think I'm through
    Its because of you."


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    Re: Cell Block Tango

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