(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]

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!"

[noah_ogilvy]

Noah resisted the urge to ask 'Why French?', as he knew there was a slim chance Troy's statement had a basis of sense. He also knew that 'bampot' was a term for someone who was generally foolish or silly, and had nothing to do with womanly parts.

"Troy's already paying for your drinks, Thatch, don't make him pay for your women as well," he said calmly, raising his eyebrows just as Troy wiggled his. Despite the bloke's statement about why they all picked on him, he still found himself grinning. It was fun to have an inside joke with his roommate.

He was hearing more today than he ever cared to know. Seemed to be that way anytime he was near... any of them.

"Oy, you lot have my brain boggled. Talking about birds all the time and then turning on a bloke when he actually gets one! For shame," Noah stated with a 'tsk tsk' and a shake of his head.

"As long as she's not a French prostitute or a barmaid, I'm all ears, Charlie."

He could be supportive, oh yes indeed.

[le_charlie]

Charlie giggled at Troy and Thatcher’s talk of French prostitutes, rolling his eyes. THAT was a conversation he’d not be joining, thank you. Charlie was… above that? … Nah. He’d just giggle like an idiot, and keep his mouth shut.

He assumed, though, that French Prostitutes would be rather expensive. They were French, after all.

Charlie pouted at Troy’s drink that had spilled all over his hand, calmly lifting it to wipe it off on the other bloke’s shirt. Hand fully dry, he allowed himself to smirk in what he hoped was a mysterious way.

It really just made him look even stupider, but Charlie didn’t realize this.

“Please!” Charlie snorted in reply to Thatcher, rolling his eyes. Leaning forward onto his elbows slightly, he pointed an accusing finger in the other boys direction, a smirk still on his lips. “Are you saying that if Rosmerta were to come over here right now and sit in your lap, you’d not be the least bit distracted? Granted, my bird won’t be sitting in my lap- er, sitting in my lap again- but birds always win. I mean, I know, Thatch, that you don’t have as much experience as old Noah there, but try to keep an open mind, okay? She sure is a helluva lot smarter than the lot of you combined.” Smiling sweetly, Charlie lifted his glass to his lips, finishing off his pint.

“French prostitute or a barmaid?” Charlie asked, brow furrowing. “You’ll have to ask her. It’s very possible she’s both. I win.” Insert smug grin. Of course he knew Hanna Kensington was neither, but the others didn’t even know who his bird was yet! As long as Hanna never found out, he’d have some fun with this.

Hee!

[ohsweetmerlin]

OOO FRENCH PROSTITUTES! For some reason, Merlin's mind immediately jumped to Candide. Perhaps one of the characters was prostitute-like, and the author was French, and there was the connection! Wherever the thought had come from, it made him laugh loudly anyhow, and poke Thatcher lightly in the shoulder.

"Best o'all possible worlds, aye!"

Though Charlie was right in assuming they were expensive. Everything was expensive with a French label. That's why the Irish were better. Here, here!

"Don' be blatherin' on as if I'm one o'them! I'm a sixth year, I should be in me own category! An' I've got meself a lass, at least I did... don' know where she's been. OY, has she been in yer lap, Charlie Kerrigan?" Merlin rambled a little, taking a sip from his butterbeer and grinning.

Well, if Charlie's girlfriend was both a French prostitute and a barmaid? He really did win the prize. Merlin couldn't help but wonder what poor girl was being turned into both things, though. HAR.

[frogleygoof]

Troy may have been a red-blooded male and all. He may have loved birds. But he drew the line at French prostitutes. Or maids that "served" Pangloss in the Kingdom of Westphalia named Paquette. No, Troy didn't want that. And he paled slightly at hearing Thatcher speak of what he did. Instead, he closed his eyes a bit to block out confusion and asked, "What are BAMPOTS?! Someone TELL ME. Or do I not even want to KNOW?"

"I'm not against him actually GETTING one, only that he didn't tell ME. FROGLEY. THE FROG. COME ON, OL' CHAP!" he whined a bit, taking a swig of butterbeer. And with that, he stared Charlie down, waiting for details.

[cthatcherhale]

"Someone has to," Thatcher quipped in reply, winking at Noah. "Unless you've the extra funds. I'm poor now, didn't you hear? And I've got needs that desperately have to be met."

Suuuure, so joking about French prostitutes was likely an unsavoury subject, but did Thatcher care? Nope! Anything for a good knee-slap worthy joke. To Merlin's arm-poke, Thatcher nodded his head Quite Seriously. "Aye, you've nailed that one." Oh! Nailed. Man giggle at using that word in a context that did not directly tie in to French prostitutes.

Oh, boy. This is what he loved about Summits. Teenage boys joking about and speaking in a manner that would not make a single Summit Manly Man's Mum happy. Thatcher's would be appalled. Proper young English boys did not speak of shagging barmaids or French courtesans. But then again, she had a bit of blind eye syndrome when it came to recognizing that her son was far, far from a proper English boy.

Now, on the note of Charlie and his hidden girlfriend, Thatcher was absolutely on Troy's side. In fact, everything Troy said was followed with a hearty 'HERE HERE' or 'ABSOLUTELY' as he repeatedly gestured to Charlie with his butterbeer bottle which, unfortunately, was now almost empty. But something the other boy said made Thatcher nearly choke on his tongue. "....what now?" he asked Charlie, eyes narrowing deviously. "She's both barmaid and French prostitute? Why Charlie, I'm surprised. Hadn't realized you were dating Dariana Davison."

And there went the Dariana Davison joke of the day. His mission was complete.

"Really, mate, you should have told us. I've all sorts of various cremes and potions that can help you out with... you know, the dreadful side effects of a relationship of that accord." Holding his hand up, Thatcher turned his head as he quickly added, "Not that I've ever needed them."

[noah_ogilvy]

If Noah's mother were to see where he'd ended up, the type of friends he'd made, she'd likely shake her head and tell him to not apparate home when completely sloshed. His sisters were practically Noah's opposite, and that meant Noah's mother was used to this sort of nonsense. Noah, despite being accustomed to this talk and his mates' overall insanity, was still made uncomfortable by French prostitutes and making a word like 'bampots' somehow suggestive. He couldn't help it, he was a prude of man.

"A 'bampot' is a silly or ridiculous person, Troy Frogley, much like yourself. It has absolutely nothing to do with anything... worth a wink," Noah explained and shook his head at 'nailed'. Bugger, he was surrounded.

Noah didn't really mind that Charlie had a hidden girlfriend, as he'd probably not had one for long anyway. He'd certainly tell him, shout 'ELI YOU'LL NEVER BELIEVE IT!' - only Noah would believe it because birds loved every bloke that wasn't him. If Noah ever had the fortune of fancying someone for longer than a week, someone who also fancied him? Bloody hell, he'd not be telling a soul. TOO INEVITABLE THAT HE'D BE MOCKED. No one wanted to be mocked about a good thing, right?

"Charlie will need them if what you say is true. Dari's been frequenting the grindylows, or so I've been told. Interesting story about Jeremy Pitt, don't know if anyone's interested..." Noah stated calmly with a raising of his eyebrows and a sip of his butterbeer.

Noah Ogilvy was bloody bi-polar. Or so it would seem.

[le_charlie]

“My lap has been fully occupied by a bird who is not yours, Merry. At least, not yours this week. Last week, though, she frequented my lap quite often after not being able to find you. Granted, I have absolutely no idea who your bird is, but I am very popular. Or was. Now I’m tied down and all that.”

AND HE WAS OF SO BLOODY HAPPY ABOUT IT, THANK YOU!

Charlie Kerrigan was one who could joke about hiring a French prostitute, but if ever faced with the real thing? He’d giggle and blush, and direct her to Thatcher. Or Noah. Love was the most important thing, as everyone knew, and Charlie really doubted he’d fall in love with a prostitute. Besides, he’d NEVER ever do that sort of thing with anyone who wasn’t his wife. It didn’t sound attractive at all, just giggle-inducing.

“It was only on Wednesday!” Charlie exclaimed in reply to Troy, even though that… wasn’t saying anything. Noah was very right, had he been approaching this in the usual Kerrigan manner, he would’ve run through the halls screaming about his new girlfriend. But, having Hanna, one of his best friends, be that girlfriend was a very new and strange situation. He wanted to make the announcement in a different way!

HEEEEE! DARIANA DAVISON!

“Even I’m not that loose, Thatch,” Charlie replied, trying not to gag. “The whole idea of getting an STD from a snog wasn’t that appealing, and… neither is she. I’d rather snog YOU, and that’s saying something. I’ve heard that your breath is absolutely horrendous. You should work on that, Hale.”

Giggle!

“And I said she MIGHT be a French prostitute or a barmaid. Er, a Swedish prostitute, actually, but that’s beside the point. But er, regardless, she’s lovely and I’ll not be letting any of you lot even TALK to her. I don’t trust you.” With a firm nod, he stole what was left of Troy’s butterbeer.