Fussy (Jacques & Ellie)

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Ellie was not a morning person. Therefore her days in Hogwarts waking up at the butt-crack of dawn were not the greatest. She rolled out of bed around 11AM, earlier than usual still, and yawned happily liking the way summer felt in the air of their Scotland home. She could hear Taela tittering about with Phil, and groaned a bit as she rubbed her head sleepily and made her way downstairs.

"Good morning, princess," Devin greeted his oldest daughter with a small smile that shone in his green eyes, "welcome to the world." Caelan was at the table too, drinking English Breakfast tea, reading the Daily Prophet.

"Why do you read that trash?" Ellie asked with a roll of her eyes as she seated herself at the table and grabbed a plate with eggs, toast, and bacon. She looked at her dad's coffee mug and grasped for it. He rolled his eyes but acquiesced easily. She took a sip, enjoying the fancy taste of African blended caffeine beans.

"Because I'm gonna have the time to." Caelan retorted with a smirk. Ellie's brows furrowed at the wicked gleam in his eyes and the twist of his lips.

"Daad-"

She glanced at her father to see him holding up an outfit that was too girly for Phil and Caelan, and too big for Taela. The color drained from her face and she groaned. Without it needing to be said she knew what that look and what that outfit meant.

"Dad, no come on, dad, please-"

"Sorry, sweetling," Devin said with a wry smile, "Taela and Phil are getting picked up by Brooke and Joe and the others; Caelan is staying back with mum. So it's just you and dad today, honey." She groaned.

"But dad-"

"No but's, if you had gotten up earlier before Caelan chose to stay back with mom, you could've forced it on him." He said pointedly before handing his grumbling daughter the outfit. She took it and sneered at Caelan, who shrugged, before heading back upstairs.

It took her twenty minutes; twenty minutes she spent begrudging her father and her siblings. Her hair was straightened and held back by a baby blue headband, with a light gloss on her lips and mascara lightly dabbled onto her eyelashes. When she got back down, her father was waiting by the Flying Car, he shrugged: "We bought it, we're not using it, let's not let it go to waste."

"Where are we going anyway?"

"Ministry so that we can use the International Portkey to get to France." He answered as they buckled in. Ellie glanced at the satchel her father placed at her feet and quirked a brow. "It's potions your mother needs delivered to the Ministry of France, but there's no way in Hell she's delivering them herself. I have an off-day therefore," he waved a hand as he continued driving, his eyes on the sky.

"Alright," she said, settling in for a fifteen-minute nap.

Once they arrived at the Ministry of France, Devin handed her a bag of galleons changed to French currency with a smile, telling her to enjoy the sights. She gave him a hug, a kiss on the cheek, and parted ways after slipping it into her purse. She hummed a small song as she walked the streets. She saw a pretty boutique: gross, clothes. She saw an apothecary; interesting. She saw a small magic shop, tucked between two brightly colored ones, cloaked in dark colors: perfect.

She walked in with a back, perfected from the way that stupid, idiot Clement had commented on, and looked around with a varied interest in the items. She found a mirror, closed but definitely interesting with the embroidery on it making it look like vines were reaching towards the face in the mirror. It was a black mahogany, cherry red rubies on each part of the oval frame, her eyes widened and she leaned forward just the slightest to see what the French words at the top meant.

Ellie's Outfit

Subject: Re: Fussy (Jacques & Ellie) Mon Dec 21, 2015 6:23 pm

Going back to France had been a relief for Jacques. Not that he would tell anyone, of course, but he was happy to be home under the protection of his parents, and the Clement security. Nothing would ever come as close to him as it had at Hogwarts with the Clement security on the Palace of Versailles.

However, there was a downside to this. It meant that Caramarienne and Elenore were back together, which made the older of the two untouchable, and the pair of them together insufferable.

On the other hand, though, it did mean Jacques could get back in to the sports he enjoyed. Fencing, for example, and the occasional boxing match in the Muggle world. Horse riding through the grounds of the Clement estate. And, he had the library that was so vast, you could get lost in it.

The holidays, Jacques found, was the time of year that he could truly be himself, because there was no one (except his sister) that could challenge him for why he was doing something.

Today, Jacques was heading in to the centre of Versailles, a Fencing tournament was being undertaken, and he'd been entered in his age group. The tournament had gone well, Jacques had (by skill, not status) outstriped every boy of his age in the competition, and won a medal that would be discarded in to the copious amount of silverware he already had when he was home.

His mother had been proud of him, as she was with all of her children's achievements. Jacques was simply glad to have beaten all the others, because it proved his place, his power. It was unrivaled, and he liked that.

Once the ceremonies had finished, Jacques had taken his man and headed out in to the streets of Versailles. Everyone in France knew of his family, but as of yet, they didn't always recognise Jacques for who he was. Which, at times like these, had its uses. The beeline that befell Jacques' steps was that of the magical shop in the middle of one of a lesser known streets. Perfectly safe, of course, Jacques' man had strict instructions to keep the boy safe.

Glancing sideways, Jacques gave the man 'the look' that instructed him to stay. Much like a dog, the man obeyed, standing watch at the entrance as Jacques slipped inside. His fencing whites were slightly unbuttoned at the top, but otherwise he was dressed as impeccably as other, his spiked hair never seemed to move from place, no matter what he did, but he ran his fingers through it to make sure it was still as he wanted it.

Jacques had looked around the objects more than once before, but his eyes were scanning for anything new. It took a few moments for him to mill around a few aisles, but as he turned the corner on one of the last ones, he couldn't help but smirk at the sight before him.

Ellie Brennham.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here." Jacques mused, moving closer to the Gryffindor in his year to see what she was looking at. As a mirror came in to view, Jacques let out a short laugh. "Hoping to see something in that to your liking?" The Slytherin joked, though his tone wasn't overly pleasant. "What are you doing here?" Jacques asked, not for a moment understanding why Ellie would be in France, no, not France. Versailles, of all places she could have been.

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~ Clement Heir ~ 24 ~ Athletic ~ 5'11" ~ French Accent ~

Thanks to .V0ldiemort @ TDA for my signature!

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Ellie liked trinkets, new ones and old ones; she loved searching for them. She blamed it on the fact that when she was younger she was often wandering around their large home and often landed in the same place; her parents bedroom. Especially since it was super close to the children’s wing, she was there. The room was always impeccably clean, most of the furniture and sheets were white, or shades of white (ivory, cream, winter snow they were all white weren’t they?) and the room’s windows were open always. There wasn’t really a lot for Ellie to find when she was little.

That was until she found the teal hatbox in her mother’s closet.

Inside that teal hatbox, her mother would explain when she found little five-year-old Ellie on the floor with all the trinkets spread around, was the memories of her sister. She told Ellie that she’d eventually explain when she was older what those trinkets meant to Cassie. But when Ellie was younger, her mother told her that it was just a box of pretty trinkets that meant a lot to mommy, and to be careful if she were to play with them. Ellie was five, but she knew things. She could see it in her mommy’s eyes, the way they were all misty, that it meant a lot to mommy so she didn’t return to the box.

Except, the teal hatbox made it’s way into Ellie’s life just last night.

“Ellie?” Her mother asked cautiously knocking on her door. Ellie had been practicing her handwriting, her Transfiguration professor didn’t appreciate her messy scrawl, and listening to music on the radio, “hey sweetie.”

“Hey mom, come on in,” she stood up and helped her mother to the bed. In her mother’s hands the teal hatbox. Immediately Ellie’s eyes went wide, but she quickly went back to a neutral face.

“I’m pregnant not eighty,” she murmured with a pointed look, Ellie shrugged. “Anyway, do you remember this?” She shook the box slightly.

“Of course.” Ellie mumbled as she reached out to touch the pretty design on it.

“Well, I told you when you were younger I’d explain what it meant to me,” she said with a smile and settled back against the salmon pink pillows of her bed. Cassana went on to explain how important the trinkets were to her, because when she was in college her older sister was disowned for discovering some dark things about their family; these trinkets were Cassie’s only link to Gabriella Rose. Later as it would happen, she would return to their lives, just as Auntie Marbella Wesmeister.

“I want you to have this, fill it with memories, do whatever you wish it it besides lose it.” Cassie kissed her head after telling her this and waddled out to use the restroom (probably to pee, since the Brennham patriarch did that every six minutes or so). So Ellie hung the trinkets up around the world, spent the whole night researching where each thing could be from and pinpointing them on a map she also hung up from the library. They were beautiful, each of them unique and distinct.

The teal hatbox was empty now, and Ellie was on a mission to fill it. Which is why she was in the shop.

Ellie rolled her eyes and turned on her heel to the chiding voice echoing in her ears. She narrowed her eyes.

“It looks like me, unless your eyes are just as messed up as your brain, and your sight has finally left you. Though I can’t imagine it would have much reason to stay.” She snarked carelessly crossing her arms then.

“Har har,” she rolled her eyes again this time so he could see. “I’m here on business, and you? I can’t believe the carnival’s in town; shouldn’t you be finding your ringmaster?”

Subject: Re: Fussy (Jacques & Ellie) Mon Dec 21, 2015 9:03 pm

"Rather vain, Brennham." Jacques replied without a second thought as Ellie told him what she could see. "Or is that what you like most, hmm?" The thirteen year old continued, allowing himself a small chuckle. He wasn't much interested in what Ellie liked most, it was probably something... boring, clumsy and insignificant. That's what he thought, anyway, from what he knew of the witch before him.

And yet she kept popping up in the places he enjoyed visiting.

That much confused Jacques much more than he could say, truth be told, but he decided not to think too much on that. No, Ellie Brennham was just a silly girl who seemed to always be there to bother him, and he couldn't allow people like that to get in his way.

"Oh, it stays, but sometimes when they see people like you... dressed like that... they almost run away with disbelief." Jacques countered, amusement touching his lips only a moment later. He wouldn't say he found Ellie pretty, because he was thirteen, and girls were still at that icky stage (even if he pretended not to be a part of those foolish games). But, perhaps the teasing was a wa of masking that he was actually fond of the witch before him - not that that could ever be admitted to.

“I’m here on business, and you? I can’t believe the carnival’s in town; shouldn’t you be finding your ringmaster?”

"Oh, come now, do you know not of where you are?" Jacques asked, quirking an eyebrow as his cockiness grew. "This city is my carnival. I'm the ringmaster. Which," Jacques paused, leaving a moment for dramatic effect...

"Makes you the Class A Clown!" He finished, letting out a longer laugh in that moment. Not a cruel one, but one that showed he did have a sense of humour, if only when he was belittling others.

"But seriously, business?" Jacques asked, turning back to the mirror. "The mirror though?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow as he looked at it. "My mère says that everyone should have one that fills the wall, for only then can you see if it lies." Jacques explained, not knowing too well if this might be true.

"Though, this one." Jacques tapped the mirror when there French inscription lay. "Claims to give only a lover's review of the owners beauty." He explained, screwing his nose up at the thought of a mirror even trying to do that. "Nonsense, really."

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~ Clement Heir ~ 24 ~ Athletic ~ 5'11" ~ French Accent ~

Thanks to .V0ldiemort @ TDA for my signature!

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Ellie was a lady…

Most days.

She behaved as a lady out in public, giving cordial smiles, and speaking politely whenever necessary. However when she was with her family and Phil did something irritating or it was a Quidditch game day why there was no telling what sort of words would fly out of her mouth. Sometimes they were the standard cuss words; the f-bombs, the s-slurs, the rhymes with witch and starts with a b. However, Ellie was nothing if not creative. So often times she ended up inventing new curse words to scream at players from her box-seats when her father played home.

Her mother and father were both astounded by her foul language; mostly because neither of them had one themselves. It was strange to think about where Ellie developed this certain phraseology. Yet at the end of the day, they chalked it up to her language being a uniquely Gabrielle Tess Brennham trait that perhaps neither of their children shared.

Still it didn’t excuse the fact that both her parents disapproved of her language.

“You need to learn to filter yourself, Missy,” her father chided her one afternoon. “It could get you in some serious trouble some day with serious people. ” He added forebodingly. Ellie wondered, at the time, when anyone would everirritate her enough that she would need to use it on them.

This was definitely that day.

“Vanity? If I liked vanity, my name wouldn’t be Gabrielle Brennham it would be Jack-es Clement.” She snidely hissed out, her face contorting into an irate expression before she switched it back to annoyance.

Oh at his next comment, how she wished she could let the tight reigns she had on her control just fly off the handle. Yet she could see his body-guard in the back staring straight at them, and she knew that her father would not like the afternoon to be ended by busting her out of jail for assault or harassment. She grabbed hold of the loose control on her foul tongue, and bit the left side of her cheek.

Her anger was so quick to wash over her.

“You are a gem, Clement.” She growled, tightening her fists as her magic crackled around her; it wasn’t strong enough to harm anything, but any wizard or witch when provoked had a magical reaction and her fury was what provoked the most magical strength. “They don’t make them like you anymore and thank whatever deity above because I swear- you are the most despicable and pompous git I’ve ever met in my life. You’re the King of Pricks, and I swear you hobgoblin freak, if you -“ her jaw clenched and she took a step back, trying to control her breathing because she really didn’t know how to finish her threat, and she truly didn’t want to. Her frustration was so strong that she even tilted her head back looking for any kind of calm to return her to her previous state.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and looked up at the ceiling trying to find that monk-like patience her father had with her mother. Cassana Brennham, for almost being forty, was still quite childish and sometimes had be lectured as though she still were one.

Finally after several moments she was able to collect herself.

“This isn’t my business,” she explained lamely as she let her face go back to relaxed before he even showed, “my father is here on Ambassador Potioneer business and ipso facto as his daughter, I’m here looking for something I don’t know really anything to take back to put in my room.” She added, she rubbed a temple and looked at him suspiciously.

“The Gods know I hate asking this,” she grumbled, “but do you know anything in this store that won’t harm me if I took it back to Scotland?”

Subject: Re: Fussy (Jacques & Ellie) Thu Dec 24, 2015 9:07 am

Very few things visibly annoyed Jacques. He was a child, so his check on emotions was not impeccable. But for a fair few things, he could hide the emotions away. But, what did annoy Jacques was when people didn't say his name properly. It was not difficult, yes, it might be French, but it was not difficult.

But, Jacques knew that Ellie didn't find it difficult, and was purposely mispronouncing his name. For a reaction - and had he realised that before he'd started to glare at the witch, he might have had half a chance to play it off. "Jacques." He growled back at her, much too defensive over a simple thing like this.

The vanity comment had gone from all contemplation in that moment, because he was too interested in correcting the mistake (purposeful as it was) Ellie had made.

However, the anger Jacques might have felt over that dissipated from his existence as Ellie began to rant about how there wasn't someone like him, her words becoming much more colourful in that moment. They amused Jacques, and he couldn't help but begin to laugh as Ellie used the words 'hobgoblin freak'. "My my." Jacques replied, not swayed by anything she'd said because words were not the worst weapon anyone could use. "What would your mother say if she could hear you?

"But, I'll add that one to my list of titles." He added, smirking at Ellie because, well, he believed he'd one that argument.

"Your father?" Jacques frowned. "I thought he was a Quidditch Player... your mum's the potioneer." The French boy countered, looking very confused. As to where that information came from, well, being him had it's uses, and what the Clement library didn't tell him about the Brennhams, his father could fill in some of the blanks. Not, that he'd been looking, of course...

The question, though, on what wasn't going to hurt Ellie in this room made the Clement heir smirk for a moment. "You're trusting me to tell you?" Jacques asked, shaking his head at the thought. "The mirror is safe, if you ask me. Well, so long as you don't become captivated by your 'lovers' romantic gestures." He explained. "It depends what else you like." He added, motioning to the rest of the shop. "I'll play glorified translator, but only this one. Next time you come to France, take the liberty of learning our language."

The last comment was somewhat cutting, Jacques wasn't fond of those who didn't speak French in his country. It was rude, and there was nothing more to it.

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~ Profile ~
~ Clement Heir ~ 24 ~ Athletic ~ 5'11" ~ French Accent ~

Thanks to .V0ldiemort @ TDA for my signature!

» While in France (Jacques + Ellie)
» About What Happened Last Night (Ellie/Jacques)
» The Talk - Future (Jacques & Ellie)
» Midnight Rendezvous (Jacques & Ellie)
» Ellie Tess Brennham