"Jean-Paul, most just call me Jay." Jay offered the younger Ravenclaw a smile trying to ignore the obvious air of tension that had washed over the group. It wasn't the first time he had noticed this effect either. It happened more often than not when the green and silver clad students were mixed in with the rest but there did seem to be other minor house rivalries as well. Jay supposed they existed back at Beauxbaton's as well but he had never really paid attention to them. He had always been the kind of guy to get along with everyone despite their back ground or social standing.

He accepted the pass from Avalon and tossed the rugby ball to the sidelines. He was much more comfortable with the feet only sport than the full contact rugby offered anyway and it looked as if the others were in league with him.He was keen on the idea of doing a three on three game though he wasn't quite sure where the two Slytherins stood. He would keep his mouth shut for the time being, he was still an outsider and it was obvious there were some pre-existing rivalries, the mute boy and the proper stuck up lad and the taller older one of the group with the newest member. Jay didn't need to get in the middle of it.

“Usually it’s for fun.”

His mouth quirking upwards in amusement, Theo gave the Beauxbatons student a dry look; by that singularly unhelpful response alone, he knew all he needed to know about the boy. (Starting with – but not limited to – ‘Without Breeding’.) At least Walton offered a bit more explanation, and the Slytherin gave him a more genuine smile in return.

But not much more than that, for a certain Housemate saw fit to join them, and Theo very nearly did sigh. Rude, hot-tempered, and as tediously foulmouthed as the most common jarvey, Anthony “What Are Civil Conversations” Hoult was an unfortunate blemish on Slytherin’s name– without the decency of being at least interesting –which even Trishna was. (Sometimes.) He also seemed to be of the impression he was sly, which the prefect found an even more offensive crime than his prosaic vocabulary and childish taunts.

Thus, Theo found him unworthy of even mutual hate. Instead, the prefect gave him a look of deep pity, because he seemed to be under the delusion that he knew what he was talking about; of course unkempt facial hair, body piercings, and an unruly disposition were qualifications of expertise. How very inspiring. “I’m more familiar with rugby,” Theo told Walton, expression regretful as he watched the Ravenclaws head off with Jean-Paul in tow. “But if we’re to go with football, then I will just learn as we play.”

“Sorry, Hoult,” Tony was finally given some verbal acknowledgment, complete with a friendly smile and an innocent stare. Casually, Theo unwound his scarf and stuffed it into a pocket, revealing the steep V-neck of a very muggle shirt; although he preferred hotter temperatures, he never minded the cold. “Are we offending your sensibilities?”

---

Walton watched as Avalon kicked the ball over to Jay, and then the Ravenclaw was tugging on Luc's arm. It seemed that Avalon was picking up the two of them to his team. The rugby ball was tossed off to the side, and the soccer ball went off in the direction of the Beauxbatons boy. Walt shrugged a little, then looked to Whitman and Hoult. "Looks like we're on a team, then." Walton didn't mind being on a team with Whitman, but was less than thrilled about being put together with Hoult. He was still hoping that his head boy position, along with Theo being a prefect, would keep the tempers of Hoult at bay.

"It's not too hard to pick up," Walton said to Theo. "More or less just don't touch the ball with your hands, and try your best not to kick anybody in the nethers." That should go without saying, but sometimes when people got excited their feet collided with you in the most inopportune ways. Walton pushed up his own sleeves, and shifted his gaze over to Theo when he asked whether or not they were offending Hoult's sensibilities. It was all he could do to refrain from snorting. But he didn't need to aid in the picking on of another student. Even if, in Walton's opinion, if anyone deserved some ribbing it was Anthony Hoult. 

"So are you going to play or not?" he asked Tony. "If you're not up for it, I think we'd all understand." It's not every day a wizard like you could enjoy a game devoid of brute force, Walton thought. But he kept the opinion to himself. "But if you're only here to heckle, then you can find your way back up to the castle."

Introductions were being made between Luc and Jean, and Avalon was quick to jump in. He was wearing one his personalized team shirts and was able to point at the patch that said 'Roth', and grinned up to the other two. This was going to be fun, he could tell.[1]

1.	OOC: Just a quick reply to say that a poor Jager is having issues with his computer, to keep things moving, keep on posting. We will be mindful of those that fall in and out of the thread.

What a lovely morning! What a positively fabulous morning! Well, morning implied having went to sleep, but no such thing for Bran Blackwell. He hadn't even made it back to the dormitory last night. He'd spent the better part of the night in a cupboard... Awfully uncomfortable. But, nonetheless, it was a beautiful morning, so he thought it wisely to walk off his complete bliss on the grounds, before returning to his common room. And he could do with a little fixing up, as well. His hair, his shirt and generally his entire attire at the moment screamed–well, it just screamed.

Enjoying a cigarette on the cold biting air of the morning, was something he enjoyed profusely. He just felt alive and ready for a new magnificent day. Tho, truth be told, dressed in just a misbuttoned barely buttoned shirt was making him feel more icicle and less alive at the moment. He was just about to make back for the warmth castle when he heard voices coming from the Quidditch pitch. Male voices. And more than one. With a full bright smile on his face he changed direction and practically skipped to the place.

He walked closer to the group, while not exactly a strut of pride, his step was still not as nonchalant as he would've liked it. Bran's eyes instantly lit up taking in the small group, and he extinguished his cigarette, flicking it in the wind. Football, was it? This day was surely going to be absolutely fantastic. While Quiddith practice was a lovely sight, it was all so far up and fast... How tragic. Football, on the other hand, really put the body into the limelight.

"My, my, what an interesting crowd we have here" he drawled, completely amused as he approvingly eyed each and every one of the boys. "Surely you won't mind some cheering, would you?" he asked sweetly, batting his eyelashes over his innocent blue eyes. "I know I'm not much of a cheering squad, all by myself... Shivering on the sidelines—" he accentuated the word, watching them coyly through his eyelashes. Hopefully, chivalry wasn't completely extinct and someone would at least offer him a scarf. However horrible it would be... "But I will sure do my best to keep the spirits up" he smiled, blushing prettily, obviously from the cold, but who'd be wiser.