Adon opened the bag of Cormack's cumin and coriander crisps and dropped them haphazardly into a glass bowl, several spilling out onto the table. Adon picked up one and popped it into the air, catching it in his mouth as it landed. He brushed the other two to the floor with the back of his hand and nudged them under the sofa with the toe of his shoe. He'd pick them up later. He needed to get moving.

It was the grand inaugural event: Puddlemere's first game of the season in conjuction with Adon's first major event thrown in his flat.

The firewhiskey and, for the more courageous, arak, were kept in the icebox.

His mother had volunteered making some kettle corn (with a surprise) -- Adon was firstly, suspicious of the surprise. He know his mother did not approve of activities on Saturdays. Secondly, he was not about to have anything associated with his mother here. Besides. It wouldn't do to look like you were trying to impress or anything. Adon felt confident the company would speak for itself. And, if not, wizard poker and whisky would.

Chips and drinks it was. And kabobs. One -- especially a novice -- could not eat arak without something solid in him first.

Adon had just moved to the table to be used for poker when he heard a knock at the door and looked over his shoulder at the clock.

Who the hell showed up on time?

Archer was looking forward to an evening away from the Auror office.  It seemed like he didn’t have any time to himself anymore and his flat was actually suffering even more as a result.  He preferred to actually be out as much as possible and was relieved when he wouldn’t have to sit at home in the dusty mess and listen to the wireless by himself.  He declined the tickets his brother had offered to the game because of work (it was slowly killing his soul, quoted from the hesitant refusal of the offer), so he would have grudgingly listened at home – or worse yet, in Piddlehinton with his mum, dad, and the usual pub goers. 

Not that Archer did not enjoy their unique brand of company, but really, he would rather be doing something a little less… family oriented.  No, he was more interested in being a little less family friendly.  When the offer to be around the guys outside of a work setting presented itself, Archer did not hesitate his acceptance.  Seemed like a legitimate excuse to get together and drink to him, and being close to work and not too engrossed in the game – as he would have been, had he been present – he was happy to go. 

So, when it was just about seven, Archer decided it was time to head out. He couldn’t stand being in the flat for another second, especially with the things he needed to do (it really irked him, though he would never let anyone know), and he also hated being late.  Perhaps it was beaten into him from his job, but if he was told to be somewhere at a particular point in time, he was going to be there (unless outside circumstances prevented his arrival).   

With something of a deafening crack, Archer apparated from his flat to an alley near where Adon indicated he lived.  He had been careful to pick a place that there were likely to be no reliable muggles (drunks and junkies were a different story, they were usually easier to deal with), but anyway, he was lucky enough that when he did appear in his selected destination, there was no one to be seen – reliable or not.  Straightening his collar, Archer waited a few moments – just in case – before emerging and heading to the door. 

He attempted to take his time, knowing that was not usual for a guy to be on time (again, it was something that bothered him to no end), and ended up, by the face of his watch, right on time.  Raising his hand to the door, he knocked once – waiting for an answer. 

Being the impatient person he was, he raised his hand again, to knock a second time.  This time, accompanied by the voice that tended to carry like a bullhorn in an angry crowd, “Open up!  Auror corps!  You have five seconds before I blast the door down!”  He smirked behind the door.  He probably amused himself more than he amused anyone else, not that he would ever admit to it.  Also probably scared the neighbors just a tad - but they'd survive.

At the second knock and the loud pronouncement, Adon rolled his eyes and began laying out the poker chips. He could not help but smile as he recognised the voice. Archer had been so much time at work, even his jokes sounded like business. He needed to learn the difference from work and play, Adon decided.

One. . . The man was probably so proud of himself right now for that joke he was grinning.

Two. . . In fact, he wondered if he would even be able to wait the five seconds to come in. . .

Three. . . Actually, Adon wondered what would happen if he did get to five.

Four. . . Adon stopped his progress on the poker chips and reached for a pencil nearby for score keeping.

Five. . . A loud crack and Adon Apparated out of his apartment onto the landing before his doorstep.

Six. . . "Gitcher hands up and drop yer wand, Auror!" Adon said in a ridiculous drawl -- the sort seen on Muggle Westerns -- and smirked, poking the eraser of his pencil into the small of Archer's back. Archer wanted spectacle, after all. In his own voice, he chuckled and added, "You're full of gryphon shite, you know that?" He stepped away, knowing, at least, that the senior Auror had let him have that one.

It was, of course, his home turf. They were supposed to have the advantage.

"Now that the neighbours are watching . . ." he said, dropping the pencil and taking a step back. He looked about and, flashing a smile, waved to the window across the way, from which he saw distrupted shutters and a pair of eyes. "I'd say you've put this place on the map." He looked about. "Pratt not come with you?" he lifted his pencil, at the ready. "Or am I to expect an ambush?"

One could not, of course, expect an ambush. Unless you always did. But then you'd end up like Harcroft.

Archer actually thought about blowing the door down.  It would have been very entertaining to see how he reacted, especially if he didn’t think he was actually going to do it.  The time he was taking to get to the door – even not responding told Archer that something was going on, though he could not be sure.  He was a young auror, and cheeky too, he wasn’t going to let Archer get the upper-hand.  It was better than the arse kissers though, he had to admit.  He didn’t like the ones who thought they were going to earn their way up with sweetness and compliments.

No, the road to success (in Archer’s view) was paved with free drinks and good work.  So far, Adon’s work was good and he was here for a night of quidditch and drinking.  The future was looking bright for one Adon Eleor.  It didn’t hurt that his brother wasn’t that bad of a guy and Archer tended to get on well with him too, so Adon was almost a sure shot. 

When he was ready to put the wand to the door, he heard the crack from indoors and laughed despite himself.  If he did not know what was behind that door (well, vaguely), he would have been nervous – but the equally laid back auror’s flat didn’t hold too many surprises for Archer and he was not particularly surprised when the younger man appeared behind him and put something hard against his back. 

Jumping forward, Archer smirked and raised his hands like he was some sort of fugitive, “Whoa! Whoa! That better be a wand, Eleor –or I’m going to write you up.”  He chuckled softly, and turned, twirling his wand in his hand.  At the neighbor that Adon mentioned, Archer lowered his wand and grinned, giving a little wave to the woman with curlers peering through her blinds.  Oops.  The woman dropped the blinds and Archer turned his attention back to Adon with a snort of laughter. 

“It’s not like we’re married,” he retorted, “he’ll be here eventually – maybe we’ve organized something, maybe we haven’t,” he shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. They hadn’t planned anything – but Adon didn’t need to know that part.  It would be more fun to have him wait and look over his shoulder at every second. 

He saw an owl fly out of that flat with the woman with curlers in it.  It was carrying a letter.  He rolled his eyes, and then looked at the door then back at the host.  “Come on, let’s go inside. I’m hungry – and thirsty – and your neighbor is sending mail about us.  Probably to your super about the disturbance.  Might be a good thing I didn't actually blow down your door now that I think about it..."

"You should know, Rad, that I do not play around with my wand. But if you write me up, you're gonna need a. . ." he arched a brow and lifted the pencil aloft, offering it grandly. "pencil?" He had to admit -- he missed goofing around like this. Dreogan had been so uptight recently he had been afraid any prankery on his part might send his brother into a fit. But other Aurors -- they were used to this sort of thing.

"It's not like we're married." came the irascible response.

"Well, he is your Romeo," Adon smirked. "What am I to think?" At this, Adon did have to think. He didn't think Edward Pratt was around the corner, but one couldn't be certain. But he knew that Edward was not in his own flat so, despite the fact that Archer had been the one to suggest it, he nodded. "Alright; let's get inside, then." He flicked his wand to open the door -- not about to put his hand upon it; God knew what Archer might have done in those five seconds -- and motioned Archer in, following and shutting the door behind him.

"So I don't really know what station games are on here in England," Adon said, vaguely waving to a corner where the radio perched atop a stand. He went back up to setting up poker chips. "You say your brother announces? I'm surprised you didn't get seats, it being the first game and all." He straightened and turned back to Archer. "Unless," he said, skeptically, "he's no brother to you."  Who was to say the man even had a brother? He smirked. Any brother who had hook-ups to prime tickets and didn't give them, well . . . Adon would see him out of the family faster than he'd see a Paracelcus' Witness to the door.

Archer’s eyebrows rose in contention to his assertion.  “That’s not what word on the street says…” Archer casually threw out there for him to take as he would.  If not for the recent piling up of cases, the auror office would have functioned in much the same way as the two men were interacting at the moment.  Unfortunately, the influx of criminal activity was taking its toll.  Nice to get out of the office for once and enjoy a bit of goodhearted joking that wasn’t going to result in the cleaning of training equipment. 

Taking the pencil with one swift swipe of his hand, he stuck it behind his ear.  “I’m sure I’ll need this in the near future,” he chuckled before rubbing his hands together.  He thought about hexing the door before leaving – making the handle hot to the touch or something like that, but he’d probably be a little less sturdy by the time he exited and it could have ended up quite wrong – too bad he hadn’t thought about it before Adon had made his grand exit. 

Following behind Adon, he took a quick survey of the place (a habit formed from many years on the job).  His observations were that it was a typical bachelor flat.  Nothing exceptional in any regard, a little dirty – typical.  Putting his hands in his pockets, Archer chuckled – the kid was going to have to learn if he wanted to keep up with the games.  Archer knew most of them off hand, and the remainders he could find playing with the knobs a little – so they were set.  Puddlemere was the one station he knew by heart without even having to pause, so they were set. 

Rolling his eyes, Archer took a seat – letting Adon do the preparation stuff.  He didn’t care that much for it and it wasn’t his party.  “Hunter offered,” Archer replied, “but I needed to be near London – just in case.  You know how things are right now.”  Sticking his long legs out, he crossed one ankle over the other and made himself comfortable – that was the thing about being a guy, never had to worry about offending someone by making one’s self comfortable.  “It’d be worse to be dragged away from the actual game than from the wireless.” 

“Maybe ye should see someone for that then, luv.”Eddie tried persuading an elderly woman as she started to turn pale. “Yer seeing things.” The woman’s mouth opened as her grey eyes turned to him and looked him up and down suspiciously. The auror grit his teeth and shoved his hands into the pocket on the front of his Chudley Cannons hoody. “I can assure ye I didn’t just pop up outta’ nowhere.” Eddie hadn’t expected some old woman to be shuffling precariously down a dark alleyway pulling her shopping trolley and ready to beat him with her oversized handbag. And he didn’t want to erase her memory if he didn’t have to.

The woman frowned deeply and put a hand to her head muttering something about seeing her therapist for more cognitive...something. Eddie shrugged his shoulders before setting off into a brisk walk and clearing the alley. He’d thought he was being careful as well! But at least he’d managed to convince the woman she was simply senile. As soon as you hit 50 he’d heard it was a downward slope.

It took about 5 minutes after the incident to find Adon’s flat and when he did, Eddie stepped up to the door and banged loudly. He smirked, thinking this visit couldn’t go without a little prank. That simply wouldn’t be right. Stepping back from the door, Ed removed his wand from the fleece pocket and pointed it down to the doorstep. He muttered a spell under his breath and sheet of thin, slippy ice carpeted the ground before he stood against the wall beside the door, just out of sight.

Adon was now laying out the stack of cards onto the table, raising an eyebrow at Archer a moment before, with a sigh, putting them in his robes pocket. He'd never played with the man before, and he'd not have him tampering with the game on a first try. The man seemed to be keeping himself intentionally idle. He'd not give the man anything to fill his time with. Save, perhaps, conversation.

“It’d be worse to be dragged away from the actual game than from the wireless.” Adon affirmed the horror of this with a tragical grimace and agreed.

"You know, " he said, "you'd made me believe it was out of sheer preference to the company," Adon smirked as he moved to the next room to the ice box to pull out the drinks and check on the marinating lamb. "Though," he called, poking the hunk of meat with his finger, "it was perhaps a bit lofty to think we'd win out against your brother." Adon thought of his own brother, who he only invited in a round-about fashion with the professional use of much circumlocution. Archer was skeptical of Dreogan's abilities at wizard poker. And had good cause for it. Though Dreogan and Adon were pretty fairly matched. Dree had not accepted; he seemed to want to spend the time -- very rightly so -- with Akiva tonight.

The meat probably should be cooked now, and Adon wiped his finger and the juices on the hem of his robes. Even from the kitchen, he could hear the loud bang and he rolled his eyes. That was not Altair. "Rad!" he called to the man who might be about any manner of mischief -- which he would have to brave when he returned -- "you wanna get that?"

Directions were a mystery to Altair. He totally hated using them and yet he totally had to rely on them because his internal compass pointed south rather than north. Adon Eleor, a friend to Altair, had invited him to join in a guy's night tradition, complete with quidditch talk and poker, he assumed. Just the fact that was invited to a guy's night at all was odd to him, seeing as he liked guys instead of gals. But that didn't seem to stop Adon from inviting. Maybe it was the fact that he was rather masculine, or that he had been top in his quidditch team at Hogwarts.

Finally thinking he'd reached where he should be, he gave a quick two knocks on the door. His hair was slicked back, combed neatly and in place. He wore his thick framed glasses, which made him look rather geeky, but it was his style. Underneath a large, thin beige coat was normal attire: a black-and-white newspaper print tee-shirt and dark gray jeans. He didn't look out of the ordinary in muggle London, so he hoped he wouldn't look out of the ordinary inside the flat full of testosterone.

[[OOC: I just fooled a little with the above posts – if anyone is terribly offended by it, I shall change it, but I wanted to do something comedic]]

Any self-respecting quidditch fan would never want to be pulled out of a stadium.  It also wouldn’t do well to show up to work painted blue and yellow.  Yes, Archer was one of those fans, and often found the most embarrassing circumstances to occur only after the match was over, particularly when one has been enjoying the event with friends.  So, going and possibly having to face work things during it – he wasn’t going to waste his time.  “He wanted me to go – I could have been in the press box too,” he smirked, “but I’ll probably get the offer again next time – and hopefully less going on.” 

“Speaking of brothers,” he raised his eyebrows at Adon, “where’s yours?  I’d assume he’d be here for this.”  He was surprised that Dreogan wasn’t around – it seemed natural that he would be there, but then again, maybe Adon was trying to get friends outside of his brother and didn’t want him around.  Who knew?  But it couldn’t hurt to ask.  Sitting up in the chair, Archer caught whiff of something – smelled good, and stood up, curiosity was something an auror just could not avoid. 

Before he had a chance to get into the kitchen, however, there was a loud banging on the door.  It could only be one person that Archer could think of and sighed.  Edward was going to try the same thing he had.  How unoriginal.  Rolling his eyes, he nodded, though – especially when there was another knock and sighed.  “I got it,” he mumbled and sauntered toward the door.  The large auror moved like a grizzly bear – deliberately and slowly when he wasn’t in any particular hurry and when he finally reached the door, turned the knob. 

Unfortunately, when he did, there was no one there.  Raising his eyebrows he took a step out of the flat.  This did not do well for the Auror, however.  Heel-toe was something that people talked about when they were teaching someone how to walk, well, when he actually did walk properly, his heel slipped out from underneath him and all six feet and two inches of Archer Radley tumbled backward.  His back smacked against the floor and he grunted with pain.

“What the bloody hell?” he called out, still laying on the ground, unsure of what to do for that.  It was strange, especially because he didn’t expect it – wasn’t typical Edward’s MO.  “Get in here, you arse.”   

"My brother's with Kiva!" he called from the kitchen as he pulled off his robes. If he was going to barbeque, he was not going to do it in very long, very flammable sleeves. More the jeans and t-shirt sort of thing. And stains didn't show much on Puddlemere navy, for which he was glad. This shirt was probably dirty. He hadn't worn it since last game last season...

No sooner had he done this, however, when he heard a groan of pain. Wand already out, Adon was in the entryway by the time he heard Archer's indignant yell. He smirked now and slowed his pace, glad for his prescience to send Archer ahead.  Well, it hadn't exactly been prescience. . . but nearly so.

The grin was permanently affixed as Radley remained there, on the ground. "Oh, hello," he said with an innocent smile before noticing Altair standing, rather uncertainly, a couple paces back.

He couldn't blame the man. What a welcoming. "Altair, welcome. Don't mind the doormat," he said. "Tabidus!," he muttered, shaking his head and pointing it at the icy doorstep.

He called out, knowing Edward was somewhere about, "It's called a house warming present, you Pratt!"

From his perfect little hiding place (although Eddie wouldn’t have classed this as hiding - others, who should have known better were simply blind to his presence), Eddie saw another man arrive at the door and somehow manage to miss the ice. The auror’s eyebrows rose and the corners of his lips were pulled into an undersized smile. He just had to wait until someone finally came to the door.

And the perfect man did.

The small smile on Eddie’s lips morphed into a giant and very childish grin as the bear of a man made a novice’s mistake of presuming all was clear. Goliath truly should have known better. Especially considering he’d befriended Eddie. But the giant man proceeded to step out of the door and lose his balance in such a fantastic display that Eddie was proud to be in the audience. His arms went up, his legs went up and the rest of the six foot monster went down, crashing to the ground with a violent thud.

“Get in here, you arse.”
"It's called a house warming present, you Pratt!"

Eddie didn’t laugh. He’d learnt how to stop himself but the grin spoke for itself as he stepped out of the little corner and into sight. “I’ll take a drumroll if ye please?” He put and arm in front of his stomach and took a bow.

Once he was stood up straight again, Eddie offered a hand to the man who had still made no move to get himself off the floor, his attention was however on their host. “I’ve given ye yer present, fool. Everyone needs a sturdy doormat. This one’s got a few faults though but it 'ent nowt you can’t put right with a good kickin'.”

As soon as he'd knocked on the door, he stepped back, fearing something was about to happen. And just as he stepped back, a large man fell through the doorway. Apparently, the doormat had been iced and a slightly intoxicated auror was prone to pranks. Edward Pratt had been the master behind the prank, and he got a tongue lashing from Adon for it, which made Altair smile a little.

"Altair, welcome. Don't mind the doormat."

Smiling, Altair proceeded into the flat. He walked over the drunken man on the ground, checking him out as he did inadvertently. He sort of knew him as Archer Radley. He'd seen him in headlines before and heard talk of him. For a man only four years older than he, he was quite the looker. But Altair wouldn't admit it out loud. "Hello gentlemen. And gentlemenly doormats."

Archer had nothing to say in response to the fact Dreogan had decided to be with his girlfriend instead of with them that evening.  If he had a girlfriend, he’d probably be with her too – more likely to have fun with her than some of the guys anyway.  But, he was not in the position to have the time or the energy to maintain anything even akin to a normal relationship.  He wasn’t really looking for it anyway – too much to do.

When he was laying on the ground after having completely wiped out, he would have done anything to be with a girlfriend rather than these goons.  He couldn’t believe what a jerk Pratt was, and sat up with a bit of an angry grimace, rubbing the back of his head as he held himself up with his left arm.  “You prick,” he grumbled, appreciative of Adon’s chastisement on his behalf. 

“You deserve a beating, not a drum roll,” he gruffly replied, still angered by the whole thing, especially when it was a stupid sheet of ice that did him in.  It wasn’t even something cool – just a little bit of slippery water.  He should have been smarter than that.  Pratt was an ace practical joker though – Archer would make up for it though and steal most of his money for the evening. 

Though, to be fair, if it were anyone else, he probably would have laughed too.  It just took a lot more out of a big guy to fall than a smaller one and he felt his pride had been bruised.  He also sighed as another man entered the picture, someone Archer didn’t know, and then referred to him as a gentlemanly doormat.  He sighed, he was not a doormat.  He was the farthest thing from it! 

Standing was the best way to oppose this outlook on himself and Archer brushed himself off.  He didn’t need his Puddlemere shirt to get ruined either, so he wasn’t a fan of being on the ground for much of this.  Granted, he could get Hunter to get him a new one, but this one had famed beater, Sidney Carlton’s signature on one of the crossed brooms, which would just kill him to have to get rid of.  He was one of the reasons Archer had wanted to get into the game when he was younger – not to mention the matching signature on the other side was a keeper’s signature – one Bathia Auguila, a very attractive young witch that his brother had introduced him too… then started dating himself.

But, whatever the case, Archer sighed, making sure the patch was still safely on the upper right corner of his chest and looked to the newcomer, “Hey.”  He was a bit formal for Archer’s taste, and looked a little bit nerdy with those glasses, but overall, not a bad first impression, except for that doormat thing.  His attention turned back to Pratt as he moved over to punch him in the shoulder, something he could do very easily and with a good amount of force.  “That’s for the ice, blighter.”

"That so, Pratt?" Adon countered with an affected irascibility, though he could not help but give a crooked smile at Archer's humiliation. Just a little. "Cuz if I'm not mistaken, friend," he lowered his brows so they nearly shaded his eyes, "that little maneouvre was meant for someone else." Him. He was meant to be the doormat.

Well, hazing was for the office. Not his home turf.

He gave a bark of laughter as Archer was called the "gentlemanly doormat," the humiliation now complete with a stranger being brought in on the joke. Yes, that was enough to tease Archer with for a good long while. But not right now. The Bear was angry. He approved of Altair already. "Make yourself at home," he told the man, thinking that, of the three guests, Altair was the least likely to muck up the place in five-seconds' absence. He himself was about to follow Altair when he heard the whump of a delivered punch.

Adon spun on his heel and swooped in, putting a hand on each man's shoulder and, extending his arms, attempted to  keep them at arm's length. "Whoah, hey," he said, looking between the two. "You," he shook Archer slightly, "get inside. And you" Adon now registered the embroidery on Edward's fleece and shoved him slightly, playfully. "Aw, come on! Chudley? Seriously? I invite you over the Puddlemere v. Cannons game and you pick Chudley? No. You can stay outside until you shape up and change your colours."