(Untitled)

[frogleygoof]

Week Name/Date/Time: 'Traitors in the Mist' / Saturday, March 11th, 2006 / 11:50 AM.
Location: The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade
Open To: HOT MEN, DUDE. (Thatcher, Noah, Charlie, and Merlin?)
Currently Involving: Troy

All right. So. There was perhaps one thing better than spending a Hogsmeade weekend with a bird. Even if that meant sitting through the

Comments

[cthatcherhale]

See, now these were the times that made everything going on in the world an absolute mute point. Yes, there were horrors beyond all horrors happening in the world around them, but for right now? For right now, there were just five boys, copious amounts of butterbeer, and Madam Rosemerta wandering around somewhere.

Oh, and eunuchs.

At Noah's comment, Thatcher actually had to bring his hand up to cover his mouth as he sputtered with laughter. How's it hanging? Oh, Merlin, Noah actually said a joke. "Write.. write that one down in the history books, mates," he replied, grinning at Noah as he spoke between man-giggles. "I believe this moment to be a once-in-a-lifetime ordeal. Noah's said a joke. Clever one, at that!"

But, at Charlie continuing the joke, Thatcher threw his hands up in the air. "Mate! Mate! I tell you, I've all my manly parts! Really, here, I'll be more than happy to prove this to you and this entire lot here." But, in a saucy whisper, he leaned over the table to add, "Though I think the best witness to my manhood, my.. excessive and grappling manhood if you will, would be Madam Rosemerta herself, but seeing as she's busy at the moment..." With a sigh, he stood up, rolled his shoulders back and brought his hand to his belt.

Well, nothing but a bit of manly-bits showing to start the day out, right?

[noah_ogilvy]

Noah thought he was perfectly capable of making a good joke every now and again. The trouble was that his brain was too easily broken by the blokes that currently surrounded him, they squashed his humour as if it never existed in the first place. But he was proud to spend his Hogsmeade weekend with them, at least part of it, and to 'hear, hear' about things like... barmaids or what have you.

Though he understood how that it was best not to say anything about eunuchs, unless he wanted to be accused of being one, and really? He was the only one at the table that was dangerously close to having people actually believe it! Or so it would seem.

"I don't have to be buzzed to get a girl! I've proven my wit," Noah stated casually, though he'd have no problem with chugging a butterbeer. He wasn't that much of a pansy. Today.

Noah laughed at Charlie and Merlin's discussion, only to choke on his own spittle at Thatcher's words. NO HE DID NOT WANT TO SEE THE MANLY PARTS. Bloody hell, they were in public! Even Troy's chest hair was a bit much for this setting.

"Please, you... she's... how old is she?" Noah asked with wide eyes, trying to hide his blushing. How he'd gotten to be thrown in with this lot, he would never rightly know.

[le_charlie]

Charlie merely giggled (very man-ish-ly, thank you) at Noah’s comment, making a mental note to buy him a drink personally. His head bobbed up and down in agreement with Troy, sticking a finger in Noah’s direction.

Charlie was very proud he’d resisted the urge to say, “Pull it.” Yes, he had amazing amounts of self control.

“No, really, Eli,” Charlie said instead, unsuccessfully avoiding Troy’s hand. He gave the bloke a look that seemed to dare him to do it again, then turned back to Noah. “Butterbeer WILL help, at least in your case! And oy, what does it matter how old Rosmerta is? She’s Rosmerta!”

But, if Noah decided not to take the pint, Charlie would happily down it in his place.

“And you!” he said, finally getting to Troy. “It was most certainly not to have a nice look at you, its one of the most popular stop on the Quidditch Tour I started when I was eleven. I save the best for last, mate. You’re first on the list.”

Firing a cheeky grin at Tory, Charlie leapt up when the barmaid arrived with the drinks, taking one for himself before sitting back down. He was never any good as toasts, he’d let one of the others do that.

[ohsweetmerlin]

"Aye, tha's true... an' tha's fer the best, really. Allows me t'watch the rest o'ye make fools o'yerselves an' I can swoop in on Rosmerta," Merlin told them all with an eyebrow wiggle. Clearly he wasn't going to be hitting on the woman anytime soon. Unfortunately, despite the fact that it was horribly unpleasant to watch Thatcher's hand go to his belt, the bloke probably had a chance. If the rumours were true... though Merlin hated to think any rumours like that to be true about a lady.

"Ye've got wit, but 'twould be nice t'have workin' parts as well, wouldn' it?" Merlin joked with Noah, giving a pat to Charlie's shoulder as he mentioned something about butterbeer helping AND Rosmerta's age being inconsequential. Hopefully they could get Ogilvy so knackered he'd forget he knew what 'inconsequential' meant. Troy, on the other hand, might actually grow some brain cells with a drink. HAR.

"CHEERS, BOYOS!" Merlin shouted as he grabbed a glass for himself, lifting it into the air before taking a good swig.

[frogleygoof]

Troy seemed to scream with laughter at Thatcher standing up and causing Noah to choke. "Ladies, ladies, please, spare Noah. He's never even taken a good look at his own. Baby steps with this one," he joked, unable to stifle the immature boyish giggles at that one. "Sit your arse DOWN, Thatch!" he smirked, leaning back in his chair a bit. Troy peered over to Noah and shook his head, "Age ain't nothin' but a number, Ogilvy. Besides, you've got a lotta' catching up to do."

Troy tossed his head back with a laugh at Charlie, nodding with a serious-ish look on his face. "Oh, right you are, chap. Good on you, then." He took a pint and laughed to Merlin, "Damned Irishman, you are! Psh, you're banned from The Summit, taking all the chicks from us."

He stood up triumphantly, holding the butterbeer in one hand, "Cheers! To the summit. And. . .Quidditch. And. . ." Troy stopped a bit, looking at his friends. "Feel free to pitch in, ladies."

[cthatcherhale]

"That's right," Thatcher cooed in reply, giving a saucy wink to Noah. "Ain't nothing but a number, Ogilvy. Fourty or eighteen makes no difference to me."

He brought his hands up in surrender as he nodded to Troy. "You're right. I'm too much for him," he replied with another stern nod as he took his seat. Poor Noah. He always got the brunt of this sort of stuff, but really! He set himself up for it. Grinning, he chimed in his support on the Merry and the Birds subject. "He out-charms the lot of us," he added dryly. "Honestly, Merry, you've got to at least let the rest of us practise our 'game'. Let us think we've a chance with our beautiful siren, then move in on her in dark corners where we dare not look!"

As Troy toasted, Thatcher practically giggled like a little girl (MAN GIGGLE, DAMN IT) as he threw in his own. "To snogging every last woman in this bar before I find the one I'm looking for!" And then, in a murmured voice, "...and to finding her. Period. Merlin."

[noah_ogilvy]

Ew. His mates were blinking disgusting. The 'rude-bits' thing was really starting to make some sense now.

Why in bloody hell was even Charlie against him with this Rosmerta thing? OY. Forty or eighteen... it didn't make a difference? Perhaps not to Thatcher, but Noah didn't want to end up like the male sex-slave of a poorly written novel! He might have been fit and attractive, emphasis on might, but that was completely irrelevant to this.... bloody hell, what was this anyway? A summit?

He grabbed a butterbeer and chugged the entire thing before reaching for another glass, all with the same expression. Perhaps Ogilvy was the one to be made fun of now, but he'd get the last laugh when he spread rumours about them all in the Quibbler. Lovely.

"Merlin, you can have all the girls you want... especially if Troy fancies 'em! Just leave me one, for the practise," Noah stated with a small smile.

Noah rolled his eyes at Thatcher, mumbling 'TO QUIDDITCH' and taking a sip of his drink. Summits. Oy.

[le_charlie]

Well, Charlie didn’t want Rosmerta for himself! He honestly didn’t think anyone at the table would, really, except Thatcher. Charlie never knew where that bloke’s mind was, but he assumed it was a safe bet to put his money on women. Yes, he’d leave the barmaid for Noah, or Thatcher, or whoever wanted her. He had Hanna, thank you!

Unfortunately for Noah, Charlie did join the others on the age issue. He was the poofy romantic in the group, after all, which led him to firmly believe that age was of no importance. He highly doubted anyone would make Noah a sex-slave anytime soon, and if it WERE to happen, he’d merely laugh.

Charlie was terrible, yes, but really, how could one not laugh at the idea of being a sex-slave?

‘To the summit!” he cheered loudly, sloshing around his half-empty pint. “To Quidditch! To Butterbeer!”

[ohsweetmerlin]

Merlin had never been as fond of Rosmerta as other blokes. Merry could appreciate her simply for the legend of her, if that made any sense. it was like the Irish, always singing about trees... ones Merlin wouldn't care about if it weren't for the fact that it was a tradition to sing about the bloody trees. Rosmerta was just like that, yes! It was a tradition for Hogwarts blokes to oogle her and be generally immature about her lack of uniform.

Ah, well Merlin was also a romantic at heart. He'd have one lass and one lass alone! Unfortunately, he had to agree with Noah that he'd rather not have said lass be twice his age. Sex-slave... har, a fate of a Flanagan bloke no doubt. He'd have to be careful.

"An' t'think I'm only a sixth! Ye should have an advantage o'er me, boyos! Best start turnin' up yer charm!" Merlin said with a laugh, clinking his glass against Troy's, and then the others as they cheered about... god only knows.

He'd try to refrain from singing.

[frogleygoof]

"Ah, romantic as always, Hale," Troy rolled his eyes, holding out his pint as well. He looked to the rest of his friends, and let out a half-chuckle under a groan. "Quidditch, beer, and birds? Or in Thatch's case, old women? Come on, we can get a bit more original than that, can't we?" His eyes narrowed a bit as he inhaled deeply. "I say. . .to. . .tracky bottoms!"

Well, perhaps it wasn't so far from the usual theme; sports clothes. Hrmm.

"Don't get cocky, Flanagan," Troy smickered, nodding and calling out "Cheers!" as he clinked his glass on everyone else's, only to take a huge gulp afterwards.

[cthatcherhale]

"That's me," he replied with a grin as he plopped back down on his seat, arm stretching out over the back of the seat beside him and chair teetering on the back two pegs. "And she's not old, she's experienced which means all sorts of lovely things for me."

More original things to toast to? Merlin, since when was there a originality requirement for bloody toasts? Troy was getting to be a picky sort, and Thatcher would instantly put a finger on the 'It's Lolita's picky influence' accusation. Clearing his throat, Thatcher's butterbeer rose again as he added, "And to bampots." Girl-related, which was absolutely Thatcher. Who could have expected less, eh?

With that, and a nod, he took a gulp of his as well.

If only it were whisky.. damn, did the lot of them need to turn of age.

[noah_ogilvy]

Noah nodded his head without really listening to what was being toasted. He simply took a sip from his glass each time one of the blokes seemed to shout something. Would be a very dangerous drinking game if he actually had alcohol. 'Everytime Troy Frogley says something in a booming voice, take a drink!'. OY. He'd be sloshed all day long!

"Means she won't be interested in what you have to offer, mate. All mouth and no trousers, you are!" Noah told Thatcher with a grin, pointing at Troy with his pinky to remind the bloke of when he'd used the same phrase before.

"Well I know Merlin here has himself a girl of sorts, what about the rest of you gits? Always picking on poor Noah for his bashfulness, where are your birds, hmmn?" Noah asked once the toasting was finished, folding his arms over his stomach as he leaned back slightly in his chair.

[le_charlie]

Charlie wasn’t really listening to what they were toasting, either. He thought he’d be safe if he assumed it was a load of bollocks, which it was. They’d already toasted everything he cared about, anyway, and it would be terribly embarrassing to stand up and scream, “TO LOVE AND NEARLY DYING!” as he wanted to. No, Charlie was happy with the bollocks the others were spitting out.

And the bollocks went on forever, it seemed. With all of this toasting, he’d need a new glass very shortly. Charlie could hold his Butterbeer, however, even though the alcohol content was… next to nothing. He was a man! He could handle Firewhiskey, too! He’d spent many parties curled up under the dining table with a bottle when he was younger, trying to build up a tolerance to it. With mates like his? Charlie was very thankful he’d done that, as he’d probably be appointed the one to stay sober in the future.

“MY bird is coming in about… two hours!” Charlie proclaimed proudly after checking his watch. “Then I’ll have to bid you poor, lonely sods adieu. I love you all, you know that, but, oy, the bird wins.” He’d not be telling them the name of said bird, either! Charlie was incredibly pleased with his new relationship with Hanna, and again, he wanted to make the announcement BIG. Or, er, drive them crazy and make them guess.

….If they cared that much, which he seriously doubted.

[ohsweetmerlin]

Merlin Flanagan thought that Noah had a brilliant question there. Troy and Thatcher, in particular, were always speaking of birds and getting birds and finding Noah a bird, and yet they sat single as ever at the table. Perhaps they weren't the relationship sort, but still! It was a question worth answering, even if the response was something along the lines of 'Well, LAST week, in the linen closet...'. HAR.

Merlin Flanagan wouldn't mind toasting to love, but near death? Eh, he'd not had any of those experiences in his lifetime. Not that he'd know of what the afternoon had in store for him, he wasn't a bloody seer.

"Cocky? Nooo, jus' bein' honest," Merlin told Troy with a wink, tilting his head to the side with curiosity as Charlie actually mentioned a bird.

"Ye've got yerself a date, boyo? An' why weren't any o'us informed, then? Here we were thinkin' ye might jus' steal Rosmerta away from poor Ogilvy!" Merlin exclaimed, punching Charlie lightly in the arm.

Unless the bloke was lying for the hell of it. In which case Merlin rolled his eyes, thank you very much.

[frogleygoof]

Troy looked back at Thatcher, stifling a laughter. "Experienced? Well, so are eighty-year old French prostitutes, Hale." He stopped, not exactly knowing where he was going with that statement. Nor why it popped up in his mind in the first place. He shuddered a bit at the thought. Bleh. No comment there. Thankfully, Troy's attention was picked up by something else. "Bampots?! What the blooming hell are bampots?!" he asked, eyes narrowed a bit.

Just for silliness, Troy stuck his own pinky out at Noah and took a big swig of butterbeer, tilting his head to the side and waggling his eyebrows for effect. "EH? EHHHH?!" he laughed out loud, nodding and feeling quite cool at his hidden, odd joke of his roommate's and his. "Noah, I'd allow you to comment if you EVER had a bird. BUT you haven't. That's why we pick on you."

At hearing that Charlie Kerrigan had a bird now, Troy slammed his mug on the table quickly, a bit of the drink sloshing out onto the surface. "And you DIDN'T tell ME?!" His eyes boggled a bit. "I've a right mind to kick you OUT of the Summit, you sodding GIT!" he exclaimed with a smile on your face.

Though not telling your best mate about a bird?!

Not on.

Ah well. Troy would overlook it. For the sake of. . .butterbeer. And tracky bottoms. And. . .bampots.

[cthatcherhale]

Thatcher moved his tongue to the side of his mouth as his eyes rose to the ceiling. "....sounds lovely, actually," he replied thoughtfully to Troy's comment about french prostitutes. "Reckon they'd give me a good price? They've good bampots as well, I'd assume." To Troy's questioning of bampots, Thatcher simply had to shake his head. Troy simply wouldn't understand. It was too advanced for him, this Scottish slang that Avis had taught him.

Well, that and the fact that he had completely forgotten what a 'bampot' is. All he could remember was that it was a part of a female, and that Avis' were likely to be lovely.

To Noah, Thatcher grinned, tipping his butterbeer to the other boy. "I've attempted to become no trousers, but you lot stopped me. All mouth and all trousers, skirts, and all that hides beneath them, I thank you." Nodding seriously, he took another swig of his drink.

Merlin was saying something or another about this or that but really, THATCHER COULD NOT PAY ATTENTION! He gasped and slammed down his drink within seconds of Troy. Sure, Charlie wasn't a best mate, but he was a Summit partner and really! Leaving them for a bird? Having a bird? Only Merry could get away with that sort of rubbish, and that's only because he's Irish and equal opportunity required that they let him tag along.

Well, that plus the fact that they all looked forward to the day that they could get sloshed with an Irishman. Anyway.

"You're a bloody traitor, Kerrigan," Thatcher replied, shaking his head but grinning like a devil. "Leaving the boys for some bird? Really, mind your priorities!"