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Unlike Taskmaster, Xianthe had previously been accustomed to walking on four legs at times, having, at one time or another, been part of a race of cat people that could shift into the form of feral cats at times. Like the merc, though, she certainly had never had the need to use her weaponry while in that form. Of course, this honestly didn't matter at the moment, really; the illusionist was more focused on turning HQ into some sort of party central rather than attacking things that went bump in the night.

Armed with a box of decorations, the Nobody entered the building, a small following of cats parading behind her in a single file line, and began to look around. First thing was first- where to start? She hadn't particularly ever taken up the profession of interior design, being used to white walls ("that are wonderful blank canvases for crayons", she had once attempted to suggest to Namine), and the Kanu lived in huts...

Oh well, it wasn't as if there was a judging panel or anything, and, chances were, she knew far more about where to place the shrunken heads and the pumpkin lanterns than the next kitsu. Still, it seemed a bit boring, in her opinion, even with these decorations. Was all the girl could afford, anyways.

Setting down the box, the illusionist's dark ears twitched, hearing the sound of someone in the kitchen. Remembering that the last time this had occurred, free cookies and recipes had been obtained from the deal, Xianthe abandoned her project for the moment, instead poking her head into the kitchen.

Shoot, it wasn't Hemi, the one the petite illusionist had found in here before. Frowning, the girl concluded that nothing was ever gained unless one asked or forced the other party into doing the giving, Xianthe decided to make herself known.

"If you're planning to cook anything, make me food, too," she partly requested, partly demanded. "Please."

Xianthe was all for the element of surprise, anyways; gave things less chance to escape from her, really. In this case, it meant that Taskmaster hadn't been alerted to her presence at first, not that she had known he had been there at first, which meant...something. She'd work out that stuff later; food was on the mind right now, and if she could get this other Kitsu to make something for her...

The cats, in the meantime, were content to go for scraps, or whatever they could get, and, while Xianthe was starting to fume over being called a 'kid', went to sniff at the egg on the floor, pondering its edibility.

"Because I said s- Because I was polite," Xianthe informed him, scowling, "And you're making food anyways. Just make extra of whatever you're making if you don't want to make anything else,"

A personal chef? To Xianthe, probably. Or, rather, a ticket to free food. Anything that she could get out of doing herself was always wonderful.

"Please," she implored again, in a tone that stressed it more of a demand than a question. Really, now- here he was, in the kitchen, with everything laid out in front of him. Wasn't as if she was asking for much, in the Nobody's opinion, so why be so stubborn?

If all else failed, of course, the girl'd just steal his food.

"I don't really think they're all too concerned about whether it's raw or not," she informed him, not making any move to stop the cats, "Not that I care, either, unless you're one of those vegetarian types, in which case I'd have to ask what you're doing with those eggs," the Nobody pointed out, frowning. "Unless you're one of those traveling performers. Then again, the ones I always came across never really had much of a successful business when it came to juggling eggs. Quite messy and all that."

"Besides," she continued,"you're making use of the kitchen right now, and, since you have everything out already, how's it gonna kill you to cook for a guest? I'd have to do dish washing and everything, if I wait til you're done, and by the time I get through with that, you could have already made another meal!"

"And I'm plenty polite," Xianthe insisted, paws on her hips, "I thought the usage of the word 'please' implied politeness, after all, unless it's Backwards Day or whathaveyou. And if it is, then...er...don't make me food, or whatever the right opposite is."

As the turnip rose was dropped into her paws, the female stared witheringly at the object, wondering what she was supposed to do with it. "What do you mean, 'eat'? Looks like something you'd put on a shelf or something, to collect dust while you go and add other useless items to your hoard for the sake of livening up your house," she demanded of him, none too thrilled with the offering, "How about you eat this? Barring that, why eat it in the first place, since it rather does look like some ornamental object that's for display, not eating."

"As it is," the kitsusagi concluded, shrugging, "I'm here to do some decorating, so I'm afraid I'll be here for awhile. Unfortunately for you, anyways. Might as well make do with your situation, right? Or I'll just help myself to whatever it is you're making for yourself. Your choice."

And with that, the Nobody stood there, staring imploringly at Taskmaster, while tapping a foot impatiently, awaiting his decision. Why did people always have to do things the hard way? She really didn't fancy getting her paws wet by doing dishes, and was too preoccupied to fix anything herself, after all; evidently, the concept of generousity was lost on people.

Not that it was never lost on herself, anyways.

"Well, you never know," Xianthe replied, frowning, "I mean, you'd never know by looking at me that I'm probably a lot older than you, or, uh, well, appearances can be deceiving, yeah, but the whole point was that how was I supposed to know what you were doing with those eggs? An endless list of possibilities, I think there were."

At the other's statement at not being a performer, the female shrugged; admittedly, the Nobody hadn't been interested in knowing whether Tony was one or not, just simply that, in her opinion, traveling performers who had egg juggling as their act never lasted long. "Well, good for you, then, for being able to juggle eggs. I imagine chickens everywhere are forever in debt to you, or something like that. Or maybe it should be kitchen floors? Cleaning crews? Fill in the blanks as needed, I guess," she rambled.

The sound of the shield caught Xianthe's attention, though, as loud noises always did, though the merc's next words got her attention even more. "You're still using dishes, though, and taking up space," the purple haired kitsu pointed out, "And I'd help out with dishwashing, in a century or so, if you'd just fix up something, seeing as I find that it's a waste of hot water to have to wash things only to wash them once more in the same day. I mean, you know, there's always all this talk in some worlds about conserving water, conserving energy, preventing global warming, that stuff. Granted, it's their own fault in the first place, and if they could get it in their heads as to the concept of traveling to other worlds, maybe they could learn a thing or two from those people, but still."

"A gourmet restaurant?" she asked, "Can't say I've ever been to one; the Kanu were never one for established businesses like that, seeing as they're suspicious of anything that isn't themselves, and I don't really think Halloween Town itself really ever had one. Not to mention," Xianthe continued, having been reminded of something, "When you look like a kid, and can't particularly divulge into things like parentage and residency...Well! People'd be more inclined to get me a Happy Meal or some rough equivalent."

She paced back and forth in the doorway, not one to really wish to listen to logic. Why was she decorating? For Halloween, of course! Hadn't this boy looked at a calendar recently? Unless he was blind, or something; of course, someone had to have told him the date, so that was a bit of a moot point. "It's for Halloween," the illusionist informed him, giving the merc a suspicious look, "And it's your own fault. Perhaps if you hadn't chosen to stop here, you wouldn't be in this situation."

"And I'm not a 'Shrimp'. Just because I'm short doesn't give you the right to call me things like that."

No, no, she didn't know how old Tony was, really, nor did she care. The Nobody was conceited, after all, thinking primarily of herself and anything that could benefit her well-being, short of murder, anyways.

"I don't see why I have to act my age," Xianthe retorted, displeased at such a concept, "Acting thirty never would get me anywhere, or at least nowhere I wanted to go. And the name is Xianthe, not 'Shrimp'. I am not a fish."

Not to mention she was fairly offended at all the jabs at her height and youth. Then again, she tended to take offense to just about anything that could be perceived as an insult.

"And you can hatch eggs, apparently," Xianthe pointed out, thinking upon, well, various things, though not necessarily a trip into Easter Town, "Well, not those ones, obviously, but, oh, you get what I'm trying to say...hopefully. At least I'd expect you not to be uninformed on that subject."

The Nobody chose not to mind the merc's words too much, still seeing her logic as being the best way to go about things. After all, despite how much water Tsu seemed to waste doing dishes, she was always rambling about the hot water heater breaking or something if used too much...or something along those lines. "But it's still more dishes to wash," she insisted, trying to get her point across, "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to dirty so many dishes? Simply because she's not the one washing them doesn't mean you need to use everything at your disposal. And it isn't as much as I want 'free food' as much as it is that I offered my help at doing a chore in return for food."

She skipped over the Happy Meal subject; to explain to this guy that most fancy establishments didn't allow what they thought to be a kid to dine alone, or the fact that to explain her age and why her parents weren't around would mean revealing that she was a Nobody seemed, er...well, she didn't feel like it right now.

"If you make me something, I'll let it slide that you keep insulting me," came her final offer.

"I'll act my age when it's required of me,", Xianthe informed him, "Though, really, the chance that you'll find any sentient being, human or not, that acts their age in a casual situation is, er...Well, I imagine it's rare, anyways. Statistics aren't my thing, so I wouldn't know exact numbers."

Or even a ballpark guess, really. She was taking a shot in the dark that she wasn't the only...thing with four legs and three tails that spoke that didn't act her age, anyways. Even when not counting 'befores' and 'afters' and whatever it was others used to refer to the time they spent before coming to this world, at least one other creature had to be, well, immature.

Xianthe'd like to hope anyways; her pride was on the line, here, though it was through no fault of her own for bringing up the subject in the first place.

"...Does it really matter what shrimp are, technically?" the Nobody inquired after a pause, quirking an eyebrow at him, "You can keep both in an aquarium, both are edible, and one just happens to come in a popcorn size, and as you can probably deduce, I'm none of the above."

He had been calling her short, yes, with the 'shrimp' comment. However, if they were going to get technical about it...

"So what did your mother tell you, then?" Xianthe pressed, finding some slight amusement in all of this (it was better than fighting delusional kits, anyways), "Obviously, goodwill and generosity weren't part of any of the subject matter she taught you.."

"I'll cook something in return, should you happen to stop by this place again one day," the female offered, not feeling all too willing to give up any actual form of currency for a meal. Made it pointless to call it a 'free meal', after all.

"I'll act more mature when the situation calls for it, or when you start being a little more generous here," the Nobody retorted, "I'm not asking for the Taj Mahal, after all, and you're fully capable of cooking for two, whether or not you want to or not."

She watched Tony a bit more, attempting to ignore the urge to snap at him for the jabs at her height. Xianthe knew she was short, yes, and one or two mishaps with illusions and the fact that Nobodies didn't really age in general cursed her to look, well, not her age, but there was no need to drag it out. Beating a dead horse and all, after all...

Nevermind that she did a majority of the instigating, and brought most of it onto herself.

"Given that I grew up with a mother that ruled our household with an iron paw, I think not," the purple haired illusionist finally informed him, staring, "I know a lot of things about giving back to the community and all, not that I really care to do much about it."

"But fine, fine, whatever you say," the female said, waving a paw dismissively, "Not that I'd want to meet you again, anyways."