Mordecai Warton's Bachelor Pad (People and booze are always welcome)

In the heart of London's downtown core was a rickety looking old apartment building that looked like it had survived the WWII Blitz. The filigree and moldings along the outer windows and roof top were crumbling and rust stained and the building had a slight tilt to it.

However like most things concerning magic the outer appearance to the building was vastly different to its interior. High up on the uppermost floor, in the last apartment on the right was a door with the number 34 nailed to it. There was nothing odd about the door, only the welcome matt was a little, unusual.



It was Mordecai's idea of a harmless joke. His neighbors already thought him to be an odd bloke, one of those rugby hooligans that spends all his time down at the pub with the rest of the gang and the game, and who was Mordecai to crush their dreams?

On the other side of the door was Mordecai's personalize bachelor pad. There were five large rooms instead of the two that he was paying rent for. The perks of magic I tell ya. The main entrance led into a large games room, complete with a massive mahogany pool table in the center. A Muggle home entertainment system was set up in the far corner, surround sound, leather couches, and big screen plasma TV included. Everything was dark leather and oak paneling with rich carpeting. Yet just about every inch of wall space was filled with Quidditch artifacts and memorabilia. A vast collection of imported racing brooms was hung on the right wall, incased in glass that was bewitched to repel anyone from touching the brooms expect for the rightful owner. Mordecai was very protective of those brooms.

Frames pictures, posters, trophies, flags, jerseys, and just about anything else you could think of that was Quidditch related was neatly hung on the walls. Twenty years of memories flashed and flew from picture to picture and in the center of the impressive collection was a life-size replica of the Quidditch World Cup with the dates 1992 and 2008 engraved on its base along with the names of the team members. Those were the years that the New Zealand Nationals won the Cup. Only a decade between wins that took most teams a lifetime to achieve. Not bad for a bunch of Kiwi blokes from a small island eh?

The kitchen was off to the side, a small hallway connecting it from the Main Room. High-tech, stainless steel and all Modern Muggle. Mordecai couldn't cook worth a damn but frozen dinners tasted just as good to him as home cooked ones. He could have gotten a house elf to do his cooking for him but Mordecai wasn't the servitude type. Freedom was a precious thing, why should he be responsible for taking away someone elses?

The bedroom was connected to the bathroom and well, no one had any business going in there expect for Mordecai. However he did manage to install a full size Jacuzzi and a sauna, for health reasons of course. Britain's damp climate had a tendency to play havoc with his aching joints.

The last room of the place was his study. It was taller than it was wide and a large oak desk took up the majority of the room. One wall was lined with shelves of brandy, whisky, scotch, rum, vodka, and various other strong liquors that he had acquired a taste for over the years. A mid-size fireplace took up the other wall and over the mantle hung a collection of various Maori weapons that surrounded the biggest stuffed Crocodile head you ever saw. Two full sized Taiaha spears with the traditional greenstone tongues embedded in the ends were propped up on either side of the Croc head and in the croc's gaping jaws was a polished New Zealand greenstone jade carving, roughly the size of a dragon's egg. Everything about the room spoke of a lifestyle that didn't quite fit in with the British standards. There was something odd about the room, as if the atmosphere were heavier there. It could be the fact that the room was the only spot in the flat that was over 38 degrees while the rest of the place was of an average temperature.

Whenever Mordecai wasn't up at the school coaching the Quidditch teams he could be found here, his home away from home. The door was always open to anyone who wished to pop in for a visit. Just as long as they remembered to bring the Fire Whiskey with them.

"Whazzat!"

Mordecai cracked open an eye, and then the other one, when he heard shouting.

What in the blue blazes was going on?

Growling darkly under his breath he rolled right out of bed in nothing but a pair of blue boxers with little brown kiwi birds on them and a white wife-beater. Screw the robe or even a pair of jeans. He could already hear old Mrs. Hennkins from across the hall getting her knickers in a twist because of the "disturbance." What Mordecai wanted to know was who the hell was making all that damn racket? He'd only just managed to get to sleep an hour ago.

"Hold ya bloody 'burras! I'm coming!" He barked as he stomped out of his bedroom and wove his way around the pool table that sat in the middle of the main room. When he made it to the front enterance he unlocked a few bolts and swung it open.

"Whaddaya want!" He barked. His hair was a royal mess, he had a five o'clock shadow on his jaw and bags under his eyes.

I got this not saying...... Come over to my pad man-Mordecai! He said showing him the note. Matt was dressed casuall like he would any Saturday afternoon. I caught you at a bad time didn't I? He snickered at his boxers. I'll come back later. he began to turn around to leave.

((OoC:Your post made me LOL literally!))

Mordecai blinked.

And then he blinked again.

"Who are you?" He arched an eyebrow and shook his head. Was he still asleep or even thinking straight? Damn it, that's the last time he took shots of Bavarian Glock on an empty stomach.

"Lemme see that." He snatched the note out of Matt's hands and eyed it closely. He couldn't identify the handwriting but it didn't matter. There was no way he could find the culprit. It was probably a student's idea of a practical joke. But just how many of these things had been passed around?

"Like hell ya will. Get inside mate, the old crone is starin'." Mordecai said as he stepped aside in order to allow Matt to enter. Mrs. Hennkins was staring at them from a crack in her front door and Mordecai could feel her eyes on him. He looked right at the door and blew her a kiss before he slammed his front door shut in her nosey face.

Marco had managed to catch wind of a party brewing in this flat; he was quite new around town and figured he could do with meeting up some locals. Perhaps he could find a suitable dance partner, or a good game of cards or pool. His pocket jingled with galleons and Knuts and he wouldn't mind a little wager or two among minions..er potential friends. He found the place easy enough... the stamp of magic was clear and easily readable to a tracker such as himself. He looked down at his muggle clothing hoping it was acceptable. Skin tight skinny jeans, dark navy blue; and a silver wife beater under black mesh. Typical party wear, paired with comfortable Deamonia calf high buckle boots, the look was complete.

He ran a hand through blonde spikes and looked at the door with a crooked grin and a glint of mischief in his turquoise eyes. Mordecai, that was the household occupants name, he was ready to properly address the host...he now knocked on the door...

Morgan had heard of a party going on at the new Quidditch coaches apartment. Of course she had always loved a good party and made her way down there. She saw Marco at the door, "Hey." she said as they waited for the door to be opened. "I brought some booze." she said holding up a bottle of vodka.

Mordecai didn't bother to cover his mouth when he let out a jaw-cracking yawn and ran a calloused hand across his face.

"I hate neighbours. Especially ones that are older than I am." He grumbled outloud as he squared his shoulders and jolted his right arm to the side. A loud "pop" was heard and he let out a satisfied sigh. Much better.

"Hmmph. Kids. One week on the job and they're already trying to see how far I can go." He chuckled as he turned his attention onto his new guest. He had no idea who the bloke was but already he could tell that this guy knew how to have a fun time.

"The Ministry eh? Don't know how you can stand those stuck-up tossers. And who are ya anyway? And more importantly, what's your poison?" He asked Matt as he headed toward his private study. That was the room where he kept the good stuff.

Knock knock knock.

"Friend of yours?" Mordecai glanced at Matt and then at the front doors. Only then did he realize that he was barely wearing anything. Meh, nothing was showing that shouldn't be so what the hell. Running a hand through his touseled hair, Mordecai went back to the door and opened it once more.

"Heard about the party did ya? C'mon in." Mordecai waved Marco in with a flourish of his hand. He'd get the gent's name in a moment. Right now he wanted to avoid prying questions from the old crone across the hall.

Why hello there.

Mordecai went from half-asleep to wide away in half a second flat when he caught sight of Morgan standing behind Marco. Okay maybe a bathrobe would have been a wise choice.

"C'mon in c'mon in, make yourselves at home."

"Will do love." she replied to Mordecai as she handed him the bottle of vodka smiling sweetly as she walked into the door. Once she entered the house she caught sight of Matt, "Take it you heard there was a party here too?" she asked looking at him curiously.