[Provence] the quidditch gala [open]

With a loud CRACK Julietta Ouellet appeared among the crowds surging towards the Quidditch pitch in Provence. Even just after a second, she could feel the excitement rolling off everyone, and seeping into her too. She was here! Yay! It had been a while since the Parisian had been so excited about anything, and while passing under the gates to the pitch she realised how happy this made her. Gazing wide-eyed around the field, she observed the stalls set up while people mingled in wait for the event to start. A broom making competition, cheese tasting, apple bobbing, the list went on! Having timed her arrival perfectly the 19 year old didn't have long to wait before an announcement came that the Gala was beginning. From behind the stands shot the French national team, and the circus worker gazed up in awe at them as they performed, ooh-ing and ah-ing at every twist and turn, and clapping loudly when the seeker performed a complicated 360^o turn and flip, letting go of the broom with everything but one hand. It was amazing! The Quidditch fan was almost upset when it was over, but she cheered and whooped along with the rest of the spectators, perking up when she realised this meant the stalls were open.

Like an excited 5 year old, she ran from stall to stall, inspecting all her options before deciding what she was going to do. She'd been saving up her wages for the gala, from as soon as she’d found out about it, so she had enough to take part in a few activities, but not all of them. Alioth had been kind enough to let her off work for the week so she could attend this, so she felt that asking for her wages early would be a bit too much. Standing in the middle of the pitch, in the gorgeous French sunshine, the Parisian was in pure bliss as she whirled and twirled around, the bright colours and sounds giving her headache - but she didn't care. She was too happy to think about anything bad, that's how good a mood she was in.

Suddenly a stall caught her eye -  a broom flying stall. They had a few of the best brooms money could buy on display – a firebolt, a nimbus 2001, etc. – and were letting people try them out. Ohh, she wanted to try that one! Hurrying over she joined the queue, which was surprisingly short for the amount of people at the event. As she waited Jules watched the people around her, the happy families on a day out. After a run in with her dad a couple of days previously, she was jealous of all the small children with their parents, but her attention was drawn back to the stall she was waiting for, as the person in front of her mounted the firebolt and kicked off. It was her turn next! Oh, she was so excited! Unable to contain her excitement she squealed and jumped up, landing on the feet of the person behind her. Whirling around, shocked, she began to apologise, quickly taking a step backwards so she didn’t step on the person again.

“Oh, I am so sorry! It was a complete accident, I just was so excited!”

"Stay no problem, no problem," Liliya responded in rather awkward French, it not being one of her stronger languages. One of the worst, actually. But she had given herself a crash-course knowing that the Quidditch Gala was going to be in Provence this year.

So far today she'd done fairly well, only accidentally interjecting a few native words and occasionally having to break into her also-broken (but better than French) English to try and communicate something. She had not offended anyone and had actually been given three proposals of marriage so far (one by a Czech woman, the other two by French men), which she had to regrettably decline. She had gorged herself on bread and fruit, and was trying to think of a way to work off her caloric intake when she had spotted the broom stall with free trials. Liliya was rather fond of her Siberian Arrow but she wouldn't mind looking at some other models, and if she showed the vendor her certified Team Captain Gala badge, perhaps he'd let her take it out for a real spin and she could get her exercise for the day taken care of.

As she approached the stand, the surprisingly short line was lengthened by a mousy young woman who practically skipped over and joined the queue. Liliya wasn't troubled by this at all; she was in no particular rush, and it was nice to see enthusiasm for Quidditch from more women. Idly she thought about her teammates - two other women and four men, but they got along so splendidly and worked together remarkably well. As she moved forward in the line absent-mindedly, the young woman in front of her had jumped (presumably out of excitement) and landed on her feet, backing up and apologising immediately. The girl was so small that she hadn't hurt Liliya at all, but as she spoke to reassure the girl that she was okay, she recognised the facial features with a bit of shock.

"Julietta? Julietta Ouellet!" Liliya's face split into a broad grin. "It's so nice to see going!" The Ukrainian had just met the Parisian at the Eldrich Circus in Moscow only a month ago, but they seemed to have hit it off quite well. She moved to embrace the young girl. "How are you been? Is the circus here?" she looked around. "Or you could not resist seeing the Quiberon Quafflepunchers?" she grinned at Julietta again, remembering their first conversation - specifically, the part where her own team, the Zhytomyr Ironbellies, had defeated the French team in an inter-league charity match. "How wonderful to run into you again!"

The woman who she had accidentally jumped onto said something - which Julietta was having a hard time understanding, what did 'stay no problem' mean? She assumed it was meant to be 'it's no problem', but she wasn't certain - and Jules got a proper look at her. Standing just a bit higher than her, maybe five inches taller, with curly dark brown hair, green eyes and full lips, the face rang a bell, and after a moment the Parisian had got it.

"Liliya Wolanski!" She exclaimed as the other woman said her name at the same time, before stopping and giggling at the fact they'd both said each others names at the same time. It was the kind of thing a child would laugh at, but the girl felt like a child, she was so excited. Listening to what the Quidditch player said in her stilted French - they'd spoken in Russian last time they'd met, so obviously she was better at that language than this one - and smiling brightly, the 19 year old recalled the last time they'd run into each other, only last month. That, like this time, had been a total coincidence: Ms Wolanski had been at the circus and managed to get herself lost once most of the stalls had closed, so Jules had shown her back to the main tent, where there was a night time show on. She'd been a bit cautious of the older woman at first, but had soon opened up and they were chatting away merrily as they walked. However, Julie felt as though he'd made a friend out of it. The pair had exchanged a couple of letters since then, as the circus worker had promised to tell the sports player what Old Paulo's tent was about, but they hadn't arranged to meet up at any point. It was a lovely surprise to see her then!

"Oh no, the circus isn't here: I asked for some time off so I would be able to come. I thought it would be fun, and from what I've seen so far, it's living up to expectations. I would have loved to go to the professional ball last month, but alas, we were in Moscow and it was only for professional players, reporters, representative from the Ministries of Magic and rich people who could pay for tickets." She laughed. "However, I am certainly enjoying this one instead! What brings you here? Are you going to be doing a display at some point?" The former Bellfeuille was certain that Liliya hadn't been part of the demonstration at the beginning - she hadn't seen here there, and after all, she played for the Ironbellies, not the French National Team. All traces of being embarrassed for jumping on Liliya were gone by now, and she was enjoying their conversation.

It was wonderful to see that Julietta was excited to see Liliya as Liliya was to see her young Parisian friend. The different Leagues did not necessarily frown on making connexions outside of their jurisdiction, but they didn't really promote much in the way of international cooperation and friendship either. So Julietta was one of Liliya's very few friends outside of Ukraine, Russia, and Belarus. In fact she was closer to Julietta - or so she felt - than to some of the "big" names that she had been sitting near at the Quidditch Ball that Julietta was talking about. "Ah, yes, the ball last month was an event exquisite," Liliya grinned, no longer quite as self-conscious about her bad French, "but to be honest it was boring. I am not the like for big lights and fancy dressing." After a moment she admitted, "The food was good."

Her young friend asked about why Liliya was here, and the Ukrainian woman smiled broadly. Why wouldn't she be here? It was all about Quidditch! But admittedly it wasn't a paid appearance. "Today no, I have no display. I came because this I enjoy more than the stuffy ball," she said in a conspiratorial whisper and a wink. "I am a tourist, not a big-shot Quidditch player. Although I have signed a few autographs." Liliya was a little abashed to admit this. She loved being on the team, and even being Captain, but it wasn't because she wanted to be famous or have thousands of people chanting her name or have her face put on cereal boxes. It was because of the freedom of the open air, the thrill of the competition, the love of the sport. While most professional Quidditch players felt the same way, there were always some that were all about standing in the spotlight and playing the part of the aloof, aggrieved Quidditch "star."

"The National French Team was impressive," she admitted willingly to Julietta. "Very good flight... uh... in Russian it's 'poryadok' or 'formirovaniye.' The way they fly together." There was no sting in her words as she meant it wholeheartedly. The fact that nobody on her team during her Captainship had - allegedly - qualified for the Ukrainian National Team was another matter entirely and not related to the display she had seen today. Liliya had long suspected that the Russian Ministry had put pressure on the Ukrainian Ministry not to accept any of the Ironbellies players for nearly outplaying the Moscow Metalmen twice in a row. "I actually hope they have another display today. It would is a wonderful treat." Perhaps Julietta would know about the schedule; Liliya had come completely unprepared and, until she had arrived, hadn't really been concerned with what was going to happen at different times in the gala.

There was something about the Quidditch Gala that Kyrylo found, well, interesting. There were stalls set up and a broom stall that one could try new brooms. Not that Kyrylo needed a new broom. His broom was actually pretty good. It was easier flying a broom than playing Derevo, he noted, as he always did. He wasn't fond of the drinks that were offered here in Provence, France, and he felt awkward because he needed a pretty French girl by the name of Madeline to court him around booth to booth. She had rudimentary knowledge of German, which was fine with the forty year old. He didn't need to know too much French, but he did have the basic understanding of it. The Gala was packed, between professionals who Ky rubbed shoulders with at one point in the air, to random fans who were excited to pursue the gala and maybe meet their biggest fans. The Ukrainian born Quidditch Player figured he'd need to make an appearance for the name -- plus, somewhere around here, his captain was wandering. He and Liliya had spoken about going together, but as usual, Ky had a late night with a couple of beers. He pondered if there was a place to buy beer, instead of wine, and hummed deeply. The cute girl he was totting around -- or, rather, who was totting him around from stall to stall -- wandered off to get them something, and that left the Ironbelly player by himself.

He looked around, admiring all the people that wandered to and fro. There was no real rhyme or reason about who went where, and eventually, his eyes fell on a head of dark curls that he knew well. He had to know it well, considering she was apart of his team. While younger, Liliya was a strong member of the Ironbellies, and honestly? Kyrylo knew their team was probably one of the best. Well, at least in the East Slavic League, considering they've scored as second two years in a row. "And first this year," he pointed out to himself with a nod. He glanced around for Madeline and shrugged his shoulders before stepping over to Liliya and the woman she was talking to. Young, but cute. Kyrylo noted that before he gave a smile, "Ladies," he said, a mix of Ukrainian and French mixing together. He knew the very bare-boned basics of French, and so maybe he wouldn't screw up too much. Not that it mattered; public opinion was far from Kyrylo's biggest issue, "Enjoying the Gala?" he asked, more towards Liliya. He smiled before turning slightly towards the other woman, and in very broken French said, "Hello. My name is Kyrylo. It is nice to meet you." Although, in reality, the 'nice to meet you' part came out 'nice to see you' instead.

He should really learn French.

It was nice to see Liliya again, and Jules nodded as her friend spoke, giving a small laugh at "the food was good" (the 19 year old still wished she could have been there, even if the older woman said it was boring) and a smile when she said she had given out a few autographs. The Parisian still had her own autograph from the quidditch player pinned up on the wall of her caravan back at the circus, from when they had met in September. She'd pinned it up in amongst everything else stuck onto the back wall of her caravan, high enough so that her kneazle Sofie couldn't get to it. That creature would eat anything and everything. It was also nice to hear that the 19 year old hadn't missed Liliya's part of the display - because she hadn't been in it.

"It was indeed impressive. I particularly like the seekers 360° turn and flip, the one where they let go of the broom apart from one hand." The former Bellefeuille said passionately in answer to the Quidditch players comment on the French National team, thinking back to the beginning of the gala. "Do you know the proper name of that move? All I can think of is the wronski feint and I know it's not that." She too hoped that the team would do a performance again. The Quiberon Quafflepunchers fan had always wished that she could be as good at Quidditch as the members of the team - or any team, in fact - but she'd never really learnt how to play the sport and so had to resort to being the biggest fan ever. Looking back, Jules thought that her biggest mistake in life was probably spending all her school days with her head in a textbook and none of them outside learning to play Quidditch. She wondered if Liliya could maybe give her a crash course in the sport some day?

Suddenly Julie sensed another presence arriving at the line and turned around to see a brown haired man say hello to the pair of them. She assumed the man - who introduced himself as Kyrylo - knew Liliya, guessing from the familiar way that her spoke to her and asked her about the Gala. The Parisian could tell that the man wasn't very good at speaking her native language, and she gave him an encouraging smile. So many people who didn't speak French were at the gala, and it was nice to see so many of them attempting to speak in the tongue of the country that they were in, even if they weren't the best. Had her mother been there she would have probably made a remark about how they butchered such a beautiful language by attempting to speak in it, but the Parisian really didn't think that. She didn't agree with many of her mothers opinions.

"Bonjour, je m'appelle Julietta." [Hello, my name is Julietta] She responded in French before switching in Russian, which was the language she had spoken in when she had first met Liliya. She assumed that the man knew her from where she liked, Ukraine, and Ukrainian wasn't too dissimilar from Russian, was it? At least, a Ukrainian speaker would probably be able to understand Russian, whereas they might not be able to understand French. As well as this, Juliet could detect a hint of a Russian accent as Kyrylo spoke.

"Do you speak Russian? I can speak Russian to you if that is easier? You are a friend of Liliya's?" The circus worker said. Although she wasn't fluent in Russian she could easily hold a conversation, and it was very rarely that she came across a word that she didn't know how to say.