[Rybinsk - gala dinner] где мы летим (artistic flying family)

Rybinsk, 29th December 2003 - evening hours

Her life had changed. Well, everything had changed lately - in her life, in the artistic flying scene... Nothing was anymore like it used to be.

Zhenya was getting ready for the big family dinner at the artistic flying school which always took place on the day after the gala. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, wondering if the change was visible in her face. Did she look more mature now that she had had her first kiss(es)? Her reflection grinned at her and Zhenya bit on her lower lip, trying to stop herself from bursting into giggles. Her sister might hear it and ask her what was going on, after all.

Downstairs she heard her mother call her name and ask her to hurry up. Was she really the last one who wasn’t ready yet? Zina had been so nice to help her tie up her hair and Zhenya was just finishing her make up. She liked to dress up for the annual dinner and applied more eye make up than usual, trying to match the colours of her outfit. She chose a burgundy lipstick and nodded at her reflection. That went rather well with her dim purple dress.

“I’m coming!” she yelled back as she slowly walked downstairs on her new shoes, trying to appear elegant when she really had to focus not to stumble. She grabbed her coat and they walked the short distance to the flying school. It was dark outside and pretty cold. Zhenya almost wished she had chosen a warmer outfit but, then again, it was really only a short distance they had to cover. Fortunately there were less journalists around tonight. In fact, since it was evening now, there were just very few curious paparazzi left and they didn’t really seem interested in the approaching family.

Zhenya was glad when they were finally inside. Her cheeks were red from the cold outside and the girl noted with some discomfort that there were security guards at the entrance of the artistic flying school as well as at the doors that led into the  cafeteria. The place had been festively decorated, though, almost making up for the strange atmosphere that the added security created. Since it was dark outside the sole light came from the candles that were floating over the tables. These had been rearranged in long rows and were covered with tablecloths. Zhenya nudged her elder brother and whispered to him “next year you’ll be at the table for the seniors…” she was slightly jealous, but for her it would take just one year longer until she, too, would be seated at the table for the senior artistic flyers. Between the tables for the junior and senior athletes there was a table for the older family members, those that weren’t athletes anymore and had other jobs in the artistic flying scene. Zhenya approached her grandmother, Aleksandra Viktorovna, to greet her but the old witch was busy and did not seem eager for a conversation. The student was quite happy about that, she’d rather chat with her siblings and cousins now anyway.

Since she couldn’t really walk too well on her shoes, Zhenya quickly took a seat, quite close to the adult table, and watched how more and more relatives came and settled into the cafeteria as well. She waved at Liza as she came in, but her distant cousin did not seem to see her and took a seat further down the table. It felt strange not to see Aglaya at the dinner but it did not come as a surprise. While everything surrounding Aglaya’s poisoning was still pretty much a secret to the extended family, she hadn’t been present at all during the winter break which was an absolute first. Her absence seemed to be a big topic at the adults’ table as well and Zhenya suppressed a sigh, when she heard some of her relatives discuss if the rumours were actually true. Would anything ever be the same again?

“Zina!” Zhenya called her sister impatiently, wondering why she hadn’t sat down yet, “come, sit with me,” she demanded. She wondered how it would have been, had she asked Conrad to join her for the dinner. The family members were allowed to bring a plus one to this dinner, after all. However, the teenager wasn’t sure if a relationship that was just 24 hours old actually counted as a relationship. Besides, she assumed, Conrad would not feel at ease here. The junior artistic flyer was well aware that her large family could be a little overwhelming and this dinner was definitely not pleasant for everyone.

Zhenya frowned when she saw that the waiters were already preparing to serve the starters. Not everybody was seated yet. “They’re in a hurry,” she muttered to no one in particular and shook her head disapprovingly. They had all chosen their courses from a menu that offered only three choices per course and Zhenya thought that if everything had been ordered in advance it should be easy to time things properly.

@Fosse @Kita @Carys

OOC Info:
Zhenya is seated between Zina and Anna.
There are a total of three large tables - junior athletes, ‘normal’ adults and senior athletes
artistic flying school description - including the cafeteria
gala thread that takesplace the day before

The dress was ugly, for one, and uncomfortable. Anna stared at herself in the mirror, pulling at the front of the bust. Why was it strapless? Her armpits were sweaty and her shoulders looked big as a boy. There wasn't enough on her chest to hold it up - Valera had charmed it to stay up, but Anna was still afraid it would drop at any moment. The skirt was too poofy as well. Sitting in it for so many courses would be a nightmare. She ran a finger over her hair, sprayed into place with a high bun pulling on the crown of her head, fussed with the circlet of small gems pinned there. There was lipstick on her teeth. She moved her tongue in the mirror, trying to clean it off.

Father said she looked like a princess, and he was wrong. She looked like a clown.

If she could not be comfortable in her clothes, there was no hope of Anna being comfortable at the dinner tonight at all. The school felt strange, dressed up like her and also pretending to be something it wasn't. The floating candles, the distinct lack of the smell of sweat and broom oil in the halls. It was strange.

There wasn't much longer she could hide in the washroom. Lerka would have noticed her hiding by now - they had arrived some time ago, and Anna's immediate bolting to the washrooms had not been subtle. Anna sighed, clapping her hands to her face. "Just be quiet and nod," she instructed her reflection. Better said than done.

In the cafeteria, no-one had noticed her absence yet. Food had yet to be served, and people were still getting seated at the juniors table. It was easy enough to slip back into her seat beside Zhenya without too many looks. Hopefully, they all kept their attention on her cousin - Anna did not want to hear about Zhenya's performance yesterday anymore, but it was certainly better than fielding questions about her own season performance.

Zhenya mumbled something - Anna craned her neck in her seat, looking at the waiters quizzically. "You think we have a curfew or something?" Better to gossip about the waiters than the gala or anything else.

Zinaida did not want to go to the dinner at all. These dinners had always been terrifying to her, and this one would be the strangest yet. She was often as uncomfortable in the annual dinner as she was when competing. She had to talk to so many people, and there were always too many. It was, in her view, too crowded and suffocating. Zina wondered how anyone could enjoy these events, the only good thing was getting to dress up and feel like a pretty princess in fairytale stories.

The younger of the Shishkina sisters had been ready for some time. Since she’d kept her makeup quite natural in comparison to the heavy competition makeup, it hadn’t taken her long at all, and all she had done to her hair was brush through it and tie the wispy bits back. Then, she’d slipped her favourite dress on and put on her shoes and all in all it had taken her no more than half an hour. She paced downstairs as they waited to make sure she was comfortable in her shoes which were new. They weren’t too high, since Zina didn’t want to struggle and wobble and have everyone stare at her. That’d be so embarrassing.

However, Zhenya was taking forever, which Zina thought strange since she had already helped her sister with her hair and she thought she had done quite well with it. The entire family was waiting for her now, and Zina hoped they wouldn’t be late because of it. She was grateful to hear the call back as their mother yelled at her elder sister to hurry up. In Zina’s mind, the quicker they were there, the quicker they could leave. She put on her coat as Zhenya appeared, walking by her side as they headed to the flying school. However, Zinaida chose to grip onto her father’s hand as they headed in as she saw the few paparazzi still remaining. She was relieved that they didn’t seem to be very interested in them, but their presence was intimidating nonetheless.

The security outside the cafeteria was nice. Zinaida thought it was good to know they were safe and didn’t mind them being there. As they walked into the cafeteria, the junior artistic flyer gasped at how pretty it was compared to normal. She wished it could be decorated like this all the time. Wondering who had taken the time to decorate it, Zinaida decided that she’d try and figure it out during the course of the dinner so that she could thank the people involved for their effort and let them know it was appreciated.

As she noticed Zhenya talking to their eldest brother about joining the senior table the next year, Zina moved off to the side of the room. Zinaida didn’t envy him at all. How intimidating and scary that would be. Zina wished to stay a child forever so she didn’t have to join them, or at least stay with the juniors until her little brother, Rusya, was a senior too. Even better, she and the youngest Shishkin could just stay home and make a blanket fort and gorge on ice cream instead.

Zina stood awkwardly for several moments, wishing she was anywhere else. She didn’t know where to sit, and was trying to be tactical, but there were too many people. She had no clue who to approach, who to wave at, who to ignore. Zina took a step in the direction of Alyona Igorovna, intending to thank her again for the opportunity of shadowing her the following day, and to ask if there was anything that the healer wanted her to do to prepare beforehand, but she seemed too occupied with other members of the family, and so she paused, not wanting to bother the other witch. Zinaida startled as Zhenya called her, demanding she sat with her. Zina quickly obliged, sliding without hesitation into the seat next to her. At least her sister wasn’t intimidating to talk to.

Zhenya stated that the waiters seemed in a hurry, and Anna piped up from her elder sister’s other side. Zina bit her lip and leaned forward so she could easily address them both. “Maybe… they just want to go home?” She offered quietly with a timid smile, wondering if there were others who were thinking the same as her. “Is it such a bad thing? The sooner they serve food, the sooner we leave. It isn’t like any of us really want to be here, is it?” Zina chewed her lip, lowering her head as some waiters walked past their table with plates, hoping they hadn’t heard her. What if they were both really excited for this event, and she was the only one super uncomfortable being there?

Anna suspected that they might have a curfew. "Hmmm," Zhenya muttered, offering a thoughtful frown and a shrug in response. She did not really believe that. It would be a first anyway. Then again, everything was different this year so it was possible. She glanced towards the adult table briefly, thinking that the family wanted to keep up the appearance and pretend that they were in control. The added security was a demonstration of that. It was like they wanted to tell the outside world that they were invincible. The cafeteria was a part of the artistic flying school and thus of the family business, too. While the waitresses and waiters were employees from outside the family (no member of the Shishkin or Tikhomirov family would steep so low as to wait on others, after all), the running of the place was firmly in family hands.

Zina’s explanation didn’t convince Zhenya either. Sure, the waitresses and waiters might want to have an early night but this was their job. They were paid to wait on them tonight and, without knowing any details, Zhenya assumed that it would be a worthwhile night for them. Surely they’d be paid for overtime and would also have been paid specially for setting the place up the way it was.

She shook her head disapprovingly as Zina made clear that she hoped to leave early. Admittedly Zhenya wasn’t in a particularly festive mood either. After all, things were so much different from how they used to be. The sixth year didn’t like how everything had changed since last summer. It had all started to get strange when she had become European junior champion, not having one any of the two competition parts. And then there had been the open day at the artistic flying school… The mere thought of it made Zhenya shudder. The information Nastya had given her on the poisoning was terrible and she wondered how many of the others at the table knew as much as she did. She assumed that she was privy to more information than most and was a little jealous of their blissful ignorance of the details.

“Well,” Zhenya started, thinking that, as the oldest girl involved in this conversation, she had to be sensible and defend the dinner, “I think it’s good to adhere to the tradition of this dinner. I think in times like this it’s important that we stick together as a family.” A waiter put a plate with her starter in front of her, lightly brushing her shoulder as he did so. The girl narrowed her eyes slightly, before offering a curt “thanks”.

“Anyway,” she picked up the thread, “I suspect something’s off. I cannot imagine that it was planned to start serving dinner before everyone was seated properly and got at least a drink.” Usually everything at the artistic flying school was meticulously planned. To Zhenya the fact that the dinner came maybe five minutes too early seemed to be a strong hint that something was wrong. She leaned back on her chair a little to get a better view of the table where the adults were seated. They had all already received their starters by now and were either involved in a chat about the gala or about Aglaya. None of them seemed to have the same issues that Zhenya saw with the dinner and the girl had to admit that their topics of conversation were a lot more interesting anyway and she hoped that they’d talk loud enough so she could at least catch some bits of their conversation.

She pulled her chair a little closer to the table, took a napkin and placed it in her lap, before picking up her knife and fork. “Enjoy your meals,” she said to the other junior athletes.

Zhenya hummed, in what was so clearly a dismissal of her theory. Anna ground her teeth together, trying unsuccessfully to hide her scowl. Why was Zina sitting on Zhenya's other side? Anna liked Zina. Zina was nice. Listen to her theory! That was nice. "That makes sense," Anna said, leaning around the order girl to look at her other cousin. "I wouldn't wanna put up with us all night, either." Zina also wanted to bail - finally, a kindred spirit. Anna shot the other girl a small smile, small enough to quickly turn into a sullen frown should Zhenya intercept it.

"Tradition," Anna grumbled, slumping in her seat as the waiters came by with the first course. They probably wanted to be here even less than she did. Anna straightened up, glancing over her shoulder at the server. "Thank you," she said, her tone softer and kinder than it had been so far this evening. Of course, the starter was a small something. Anna's stomach rumbled.

"Really, Zhenya, I don't think it's that deep." Around them, the stragglers were making their way to the table. "Not everyone has a metronome in their head." Anna twisted to look at the adult's table - she couldn't hear what they were saying from this distance. Hopefully Lerka would be drunk and gossip about it later, on the way home.

Anna took a stab at her starter, breaking off a small piece to chew one hundred times. "What do you think they're talking about?" Her curiosity got the better of her.

Zhenya dismissed Anna’s theory and Zina noticed that the other girl didn’t seem too happy about it. Then again, Anna hadn’t seemed particularly happy the entire time she’d been there. Zinaida could understand that though. She tried to hide her bright smile as the Klyk Vampira agreed with her own theory on why they were rushing, but it was nice to have an openly kindred spirit at these events. She gave a small silent laugh as Anna said the waiters probably didn’t want to put up with them. That was probably true.

Zina’s face fell as Zhenya dismissed her theory too, claiming that it was good to adhere to tradition. She tried not to scoff as she added that they should stick together as a family. Zina felt that was awfully hypocritical of her elder sister to say considering her behaviour. Zhenya had kept so many things from her, and Zina was still struggling with whether or not she could trust her sister anymore. Then again, Zina supposed she wasn’t any better. She had kept things from Zhenya too. They hadn’t stuck together at all, why should they pretend that they had all along? Anna, at least, seemed to be in as much disagreement as she was, and Zina gave her another small smile. “Well, I don’t think any good will come of this.” She murmured under her breath as the waiters started putting plates down. She smiled warmly up at the waitress who laid a land on her shoulder to place her starter down properly. “Thank you so much!” Zina said gratefully before the waitress moved away again.

She was, despite her mixed feelings about Zhenya at that moment, inclined to believe her elder sister’s judgement as Zhenya said she thought something was off. The vibe at the dinner tables did seem really strange and all the times she had been at the dinner before, they had never started serving food so soon. Anna didn’t seem to think this was the case though, and Zina scrunched her face as she placed her napkin in her lap, wondering who was right this time. “I don’t know…” Zina began timidly, picking up her knife and fork. “I don’t remember dinner ever starting so soon. It’s normally so perfectly organised.” She wondered if they should be worried, and suddenly her appetite was diminishing.

Zina took a small bite as Anna asked what the family at the adults’ table were talking about, and Zina craned her head to take a look and see if she could hear them. “Well, it sounds like…” She began, ahead of herself as she continued straining to listen in. The gala seemed to be a predominant conversion based off the snippets she could hear and -

Oh. Zina’s face fell as she caught the name of the most noticeably absent person at the dinner. “Aglaya Antonovna.” She muttered under her breath so that only Anna and Zhenya could hear it. “I don’t think it is very nice of them or appropriate to talk about her here… I mean, if we can hear them talking about her then…” She trailed off, trying to see what was going on even further than the adults’ table, on the senior artistic flyer side, hoping to catch a glimpse of bright red hair. “Then, her sister probably can too.”

“It’s their job, though,” Zhenya said, frowning slightly. “And I imagine there are worse people to serve than us.” Nobody had forced these people to apply for the job as a waitress/waiter at the artistic flying school. Why they should pity them was beyond her. The family was hardly a group of hooligans. This was a posh and festive family dinner. Surely this was more fun than the everyday life at the café when they only had to serve tea or coffee to the occasional guests. That was bound to be boring. Tonight, however, they could meet almost all the stars of the artistic flying family at once. Surely that was something.

Neither Zina nor Anna seemed to care a lot about the tradition of the family dinner and Zhenya decided not to comment on it more. After all, she wasn’t particularly enjoying herself either. She just felt that it was their duty to take part in this and at least try to like it even though it clearly wasn’t easy, especially not this year.

Anna stated that the fact that the timing wasn’t perfect meant nothing but Zina, at least, seemed to have her doubts as well. “Maybe Anna is right,” she muttered, not because she agreed but because she felt that they wouldn’t get to the core of things anyway. “I’ll ask dad later, or aunt Veronika,” she said. “They might know more about it.”

Zina said what Zhenya had been thinking but hadn’t dared to say out loud - that the adults were, among other topics, talking about Aglaya Antonovna. She quickly swallowed the bite of her starter that she had been chewing on and looked around cautiously before speaking in a whisper.

“I wonder what they are talking about in particular. I had been hoping that she’d be here, after all. It would have been reassuring to see her. I suppose they are just asking Alyona Igorovna how she’s doing.” Zhenya felt like she was skating on thin ice. She didn’t want to mention anything that wasn’t public knowledge. However, she assumed that most family members knew the rumours and knew that there was some truth to them.

On the one hand, the gala dinner was an exciting event, particularly for the youngest members of the artistic flying family. Although he was still only eleven years old Ruslan had felt very grown up as he'd dressed in his best black trousers and white shirt, and actually been left alone to comb his hair without anyone hanging around asking whether he'd washed his neck. His waistcoat was a deep blue colour which he liked as well, though he'd have preferred something paler to reflect his house colours, but the bow tie defeated him. It wasn't a real one that you had to tie yourself, but even the little clasps were too tricky for him. In the end he'd had to ask Zina to fix it for him (whilst obviously swearing her to secrecy because he didn't want any of the adults to know he couldn't do everything himself). He was at Durmstrang now, one of the big kids.

That hadn't stopped him from bringing his pet mouse along, though. Makar was currently tucked into his waistcoat pocket - so couldn't be seen, but Ruslan could feel him wriggling around. Apparently the little animal had just woken up, probably because he smelled the food. Ruslan had chosen the blinis for his starter and each time a waiter walked by glanced up hopefully. Never mind Zhenya and her theories about why the food was being served too quickly. If people were hungry, they deserved to eat, and that was all there was to it. He knew better than to say anything though, not unless he wanted to be reminded that he was the youngest and apparently didn't know anything. He grinned at Cousin Anna and tried to listen in to the adult table, but they were too far away...

And then a plate was laid in front of him and Ruslan no longer cared what anyone was saying. His stomach made a small sound and the scrabbling in his pocket became more insistent. With a slightly guilty glance around the table he laid the white napkin on his lap before lifting his knife and fork, hoping that nobody was going to comment. In previous years he hadn't cared about spilling food on his clothes, after all - though that wasn't the reason for the napkin. That was there so he could drop items of food so a certain little mouse could also enjoy the feast. He couldn't wait any longer though, and as soon as Zhenya spoke he began devouring the food, watching until nobody as looking so he could drop a little for Makar.

"That must be a really horrible job, though" he said, once his immediate hunger was satisfied "they don't even get to cook the food, they just carry the plates around..." Ruslan couldn't imagine what sort of disaster would lead to someone becoming a waiter when they could have learned to fly. Even being a professor would be better than that!

[OOC: apparently the only thing on Ruslan's mind right now is food...]

Ruslan, the little weirdo, thought he was being stealthy with his pet mouse. Anna could see him putting aside small pieces of pancake on the edge of his plate, sliding them into his palm when he thought no one was looking. Anna liked Ruslan. He was entertaining and, most importantly, wasn't her competition. And he was phenomenally bad at hiding things, emotions or mice. She winked at him across the table next time he slipped his hand under the cloth.  Anna felt she could trust what Ruslan was saying. She hoped he wouldn't grow out of it.

Zina, on the other hand. I don't know, she was hedging already, despite their solidarity not two seconds before. Anna ground her teeth together. Zina could be so wishy-washy, so unable to stand on her own opinions, it was irritating. Her least favourite thing about that particular cousin, in fact. If she was so quick to flip sides now, what if Zhenya said something about Anna? Would Zina flip-flop then, too?

She cast her gaze down studiously at her own starter, a ceramic ramkin of mushroom julienne, avoiding Zina or her sister's gaze for the moment. She needn't have worried - they had all turned to stare at the adult's table. Idiots. You couldn't look at people if you were trying to eavesdrop! That was the surest way to get caught out. Anna snorted quietly. Amateurs. They hadn't the practice of trying to listen to Valera and vir friends in the evenings on holidays when Anna was supposed to be in bed and the drink had been flowing.

It was clear before the Shishkinas announced it what the topic was - the chatter drifting down the room was not so so quiet. Anna rolled her eyes - of course, it was about Aglaya again. Perfect Aglaya. Heir to the family Aglaya. Poor poor Aglaya, who always deserved to be on top. Even a momentary lapse of familial loyalty for Nastya couldn't keep everyone from rallying around Aglaya again, and again, and again. Aglaya and her poisoning! Oh no, poor Aglaya! This family was insufferable. Even Zina and Zheyna buying in like this.

"Saw her earlier today, actually," Anna said instead, stabbing at the cheese crust of her food.

Zina sighed, side-eying her sister, as Zhenya stated there were probably worse people to serve than their family. By now, the servers had probably figured out the stars of the artistic flying scene were just regular people, so it wasn’t even as if that was an incentive anymore. Zina felt like perhaps they went underappreciated. She half-smiled at Rusya as he piped up that being a server must be a really horrible job. It was why she studied so hard, so that even if she didn’t make it as a healer or an athlete, she’d still have good prospects. “Which is why you must study hard, if you wish to avoid the same fate when you retire.” She quietly said to Ruslan across the table, though she felt the reminder might serve her sister some good too if she heard it.

At least Zhenya still seemed to have doubts about the dinner, otherwise she wouldn’t have said that she’d ask their father or their aunt. “Good idea,” Zina replied softly, trying to think of a senior who wasn’t completely intimidating or Nastya. “Maybe Larisa knows something about it…” Unlikely, perhaps, but still possible. After all, Larisa was seated closer to the adult table, perhaps she was in a better position to overhear something relevant.

Zinaida was suddenly supremely interested in her napkin as she began fiddling with the corner. “I hope they aren’t talking about anything… serious.” She muttered, glancing over at the adults’ table with furrowed brows. “I think we were all hoping to see her today. But I guess if I was Aglaya Antonovna then… I wouldn’t want to be here either. Maybe she just wanted to avoid all of us staring at her like she’s some exhibit in a museum and having to answer the same question over a hundred times.” Her idol was probably completely fine. Hopefully.

She kept her gaze on the adults’ table and frowned. “I feel sorry for Alyona Igorovna.” Zina muttered quietly, debating whether or not to take another bite of her meal as she held the fork in her hand. "I am sure she has enough to deal with without having to answer nosy questions tonight.” Zina tried to persuade herself her concern wasn’t for selfish reasons, but she didn’t want to spend the entire day with the healer the next day if the dinner had put Alyona Igorovna in a bad mood, or made her distracted. She wanted the best possible day of shadowing so that she could learn as much as she could from her.

Anna piped up again from Zhenya’s other side and Zina leaned forward as she gasped from the new information. “You did?” Zina’s eyes grew wide as a ghost of a smile appeared, pleased that someone had seen her, at the very least. “When? Was she okay? Did you talk to her?” The questions flowed out before she could stop herself.