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frogleygoof in hih_thegame

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Feb 11, 2007 20:36

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 ( Read more... )

troy-frogley, thatcher-hale, week-026

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cthatcherhale February 12 2007, 12:31:33 UTC

The first rule about Men's Club was that you didn't talk about men's club, Thatcher thought as he strolled into The Three Broomsticks. It was what made their Summits beautiful.. the whole 'What happens in TTB stays in TTB, lest it is incredibly funny and we are forced to giggle about it later' thing. Which was typically the case, but they at least normally started out their Summits thinking that their horrid wrong-doings would go unspoken of ( ... )

noah_ogilvy February 20 2007, 03:42:41 UTC

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 February 20 2007, 21:11:46 UTC

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 February 20 2007, 21:55:41 UTC

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 February 21 2007, 03:50:42 UTC

"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 February 22 2007, 00:16:14 UTC

"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 February 22 2007, 02:25:51 UTC

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 February 22 2007, 20:14:59 UTC

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 ( ... )

ohsweetmerlin February 22 2007, 22:09:05 UTC

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 ( ... )

frogleygoof February 22 2007, 23:51:14 UTC

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 ( ... )

cthatcherhale February 23 2007, 00:02:29 UTC

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 ( ... )

noah_ogilvy February 23 2007, 02:35:05 UTC

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 February 23 2007, 04:48:19 UTC

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 ( ... )

ohsweetmerlin February 23 2007, 21:15:27 UTC

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 February 24 2007, 04:39:01 UTC

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 February 24 2007, 05:17:38 UTC

"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 ( ... )

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