[zhytomyr] come out to play [liliya]

march 2001

This wouldn't be the first time she had met with the captain of the Zhytomyr Ironbellies, on or off the pitch, but this was one of the more enjoyable outings that she looked forward to. Every once in a while their training off days would line up, and she and Wolanski would meet to catch up or have a little old fashioned one-on-one. Today they were doing the latter, and Quinn was more than happy to have a little break from the Falcons, a break from seeking, and a break from being incredibly confused about spending time with a player from another quidditch team.

It was Quinn's turn to travel this time and there was just a slight time difference between Falmouth and Zhytomyr, but she was well accustomed to waking up earlier than humanly necessary just to train. Still, she had a bit of time to kill before leaving, not wanting to arrive early. She took her breakfast out on her porch, getting her fill of the salty air before she spent the day in a very landlocked part of Ukraine.

It was quiet, however, too quiet, and Quinn couldn't help but getting lost in thoughts she really didn't want to be thinking about. She decided to take that as a sign that she ought to go for a swim, however quick it needed to be to still get her to Zhytomyr on time. The laps were successful in clearing her mind, helping to channel all her energies on her plan for her quidditch later in the day. She was going to be out of her element just enough by not playing as a seeker -- because what fun would a one-on-one seeking match be? -- that she was fairly certain she would be able to focus on beating Wolanski. Even if this was a friendly fly, Quinn still needed to win.

She flooed as close as she could to the practice pitch for the Zhytomyr Ironbellies, preferring to save her flying for her time on the pitch. She was right on time and was unsurprised to find Liliya waiting for her arrival. She smirked as she stepped out of the fireplace, her third- or fourth-favorite broom clutched in her hand. The Irish woman was head-to-toe ready for some friendly flying, wearing comfortable training clothes, her hair up in a messy knot and still slightly damp from her swim. "Wolanski," her accent was thick, her voice husky from the bit of soot she had inhaled.

@Liliya Wolanski

She would never have told Quinn Regan, but Liliya had actually cancelled a practise for this very reason, catching up with one of her few international Quidditch friends. Sure, tomorrow was the end of the month and they were playing a game in Kiev against the Castles. And sure, all eyes were on the Ironbellies and the Moscow Metalmen since they were tied for first rank in their Quidditch league, and the Ironbellies had suffered their first loss two weeks ago at the hands of - of all teams - the Minsk Saints, arguably the worst-performing team in the league. But that was exactly why she had told her whole team to take the day off. No sense stressing out or working themselves up. Minsk had been a fluke, a miraculous catch by their Seeker, and Pavlo had only let two goals through; Liliya, Tamara, and Kyrylo had gotten thirteen balls past the Saints' Keeper when the game was called. It wouldn't happen again. It couldn't happen again.

The Zhytomyrsʹkyy Kvidych Stadion was twenty kilometres south-southeast of the city centre, hidden from Muggle eyes right in the middle of a no-man's land between the communes of Ozerne, Mlynyshche, Vershyna, and Liliya's own home village of Horodyshche (not to be confused with the city of the same name in the Cherkasy Oblast). The stadium was a five-story ring with seating on the second through fourth stories, VIP seats and announcing booths on the fifth stories, walking entrances and a few Floo inglenooks on pavilions surrounding the first story, and a concessions center midway on either side of the first and fourth stories.

At the moment Liliya was standing in front of the auxiliary Floo hearth, the only one that was operating on non-game days despite actually being in the furthest pavilion from the pitch-proper. As the bells in the clock on the northside scoreboard chimed for a quarter past 9, a green fire flared up and spat out a dark-haired, pale-skinned Irish woman, her long-distance friend Quinn Regan. She was a wonderful sight to see, though it had only been a month or two since they'd last seen each other in person; an odd combination of beauty and fierceness, grace and athleticism, and today, damp hair and soot-sprinkled training robes.

"Zdrastuyte, Rihan!" she greeted her counterpart before remembering - as she often forgot to do - that English was the only language they had in common, even though Liliya was still not particularly fluent in it. "Good morning, I hope your trip was well!" she started again with a smile, giving Quinn a side-hug. "How are you having a good season? Wait don't answer that yet, come, let's have a little relax and some snacks before we get started." She gestured toward the main stadium, where she had commandeered some of the supplies of the concession centre for the two of them to share.

"Mornin'!" she offered, matching Liliya's enthusiasm, both with her voice and her smile. She was grateful for the side hug as the full frontal hug only ever served to emphasize their differences in height. Of course, Quinn would be using her lack of height as one excuse in the event that she lost that day, even though they were supposedly just throwing the quaffle around for fun. The Irish woman winced a little at her question of how the Falcons' season was going. She had actually bothered to check up on the Ironbellies' record so far before making her trip, but she made a mental note to ask about their season later anyway.

But thankfully she didn't have to talk about her season quite yet and would hopefully be able to put that off as long as possible. Their last match had gone very well, considering they had been ranked second-to-last in the league yet had defeated the top team, all thanks to her snitch catch. But Quinn only had one other win so far this season to be proud about; at least the Falcons had moved up in the rankings, now being ahead of United, though the tiniest part of her felt bad that she was happy about that. That wasn't something she needed to discuss with the Ukrainian woman, who probably just wanted a little bit of small talk and a good bout of flying.

"Snacks sound perfect," she agreed, realizing how much time had passed since she had last eaten. Plus, floo travel always made her stomach a little queasy and surely there would be something to eat that would help. She let Liliya lead the way into the main stadium, taking her chance to admire her surroundings. Quinn greatly preferred her own stadium, with its close proximity to the sea, such that she could see the water while she flew and it never failed to calm whatever nerves managed to creep up on her.

She had to walk quickly to keep up with Liliya's longer stride, but it was worth it for free snacks and some less serious quidditch to prepare her for tomorrow's more serious quidditch match. "I can play keeper today, but you'll have to go easy on me," she offered with a laugh, well aware that her keeping skills were less than desirable. But really, she would be happy doing anything today. She was doing her best to walk quickly and talk slowly, their conflicting accents surely not helping either of them understand each other.

Liliya led the way happily into her own stadium, slowing down slightly as she heard Quinn resume the conversation with a slight catch in her breath and remembered that her legs were longer than the Irish woman's.

"Aha-ha, so today you will go from being Viktor Krum to Lev Zograf?" Liliya teased, referring to the Bulgarian National Team's famous Seeker and its somewhat less-known Keeper. "Well I will try to go easy but you know, I am still upset," here her smile reversed into a gloomy frown, "about our loss to Minsk two weeks ago, how we could loss to those no-talented, durnymy, nekompetentnymy, ostannye-mistse prostachka..." she trailed off and then forced a smile back on her face. "I am not want to lose to Kievs'ka tomorrow. But I am not think that how I play you one-on-one will affect how my team play the Zamky [Castles]."

She slid into a door of one of the concession booths and behind the counter. "But first I fulfil lifelong dream to be role as waitress," she said with a bit of a sarcastic tone, "and I wait on you for food. Please have a seat, what can I get for you today?" She started pulling things out of the cupboard below the counter and placing them in front of Quinn. "We have deruny, fried ham in bread slices, crackers, cheese, hummus, yogurt, and if we are feeling daring... chocolate," she revealed a box of chocolate cremes with a flourish.

"So," she went on, popping a tiny cracker dipped in hummus into her mouth, "who are you facing tomorrow? Someone you are ready to crush?" It would be easier, perhaps, talking about someone else's season than dwelling on the previous game and tomorrow's match. Although, Liliya realised belatedly, she had not investigated how the Falcons were doing since they had planned this visit and she figured Quinn could just catch her up. The stories of their seasons might be two totally different tales. Well, you've stuck your foot in your mouth this time, Liliya thoought to herself as she grimaced.

Quinn replied "Yes," with a laugh, though really she wanted to be neither Krum nor Zograf, but she wasn't going to push the point. If she was going to be any good at keeping today, it would probably be best not to upset Liliya any more than necessary. She didn't need to have quaffles aimed at her with anything other than a friendly intent behind them. The woman smiled as the chaser recounted her loss in her latest match, trying to make the smile as sympathetic as possible without revealing just how happy she was to see her lose a little. With the Falcons' record thus far, it was nice to see a top tier team, even in a different league, get knocked down a little.

"I'm sure however you play today, you'll still do great tomorrow," she said reassuringly, ignoring her digression into what she could only assume was Ukrainian. Plus, offering Liliya a compliment would hopefully get her one in return. "The Castles, right?" She climbed on to one of the stools in front of the counter, leaning her broom against the stool next to her, and smiling as the chaser started playing waitress. Nodding along as Liliya pulled various snacks out, Quinn leaned in to survey all the options. Plying an opponent with fried foods and sweets was surely one way to slow her down, and she wasn't about to give her that leg up.

She picked the cracker and hummus as well, hurrying to clear her mouth before she answered Liliya's question. "Wanderers," she said casually with a shrug, "and absolutely," she added, fully intending to crush them. She really wasn't too worried, still operating on a high after her last defeat of Portree. "We definitely need to if we have any hope of not finishing at the bottom of the league." She rolled her eyes; while the Falcons weren't technically ranked last, being in the bottom three was just as humiliating.

"But enough about that," Quinn said with finality, popping one last hummus-ed cracker into her mouth before rubbing her palms together a couple times to clear them of crumbs. "I'm ready to play if you are." She slid off her stool, taking the chance to stretch her legs and pull each arm in turn across her chest.

"Bah," Liliya waved off Quinn's comment about 'finishing at the bottom of the league.' "If my game last week proves anything, is that low ranking means s**t. High ranking also means s**t. Quidditch is about the great players, like us," she bobbed her hand back and forth between the two of them a couple of times. "I am certain that if you are Seeker and I am Chaser against any Keeper and Seeker on Europe, we would win any two-at-two match with no problem. Well, my Roman might give you compete, but..." Liliya paused, one last cracker halfway to her mouth. "Actually, I would pay to watch that face-off. Point being," she popped the cracker in and chewed it up quickly, "you will crush your Wanderers tomorrow, I have certain of it."

Quinn indicated that she was ready to get started, so Liliya took a swig from her water bottle to clear her throat and then dabbed at her mouth with a napkin to clean off crumbs and hummus. "Absolutely, I am ready," she said, a fluttery feeling in her stomach. This was just a friendly game and, as she had said to Quinn, the result of it would have no bearing on either of their league games the next day. That was true in fact, but Liliya couldn't shake that the opposite was true in her mind. And undoubtedly, Quinn was feeling the same way. After all, they were both competitors by nature. No matter how well they got along or how long they had known each other, intuition told the Ukrainian captain that the game was going to be rough because in their hearts, neither woman could let themselves lose.

Trying to ignore such thoughts, Liliya led Quinn into the Stadion proper, under the supports, through a concrete tunnel, and across the 10-meter buffer that separated the edge of the second-story stands from the boundaries of the actual playing field, a 100-by-55-meter oval outlined in the Munsell red hue of the Ironbellies, with three royal yellow goalposts on either end.

"No reason to stand over the ceremony, I suppose," Liliya commented, grabbing a Quaffle from the box she had previously placed at the border of the field-of-play and mounting her broom, starting to fly up slowly toward the 1-meter-wide starting circle in the middle of the field. "Let me know when you are ready, Rihan."

Quinn laughed as Liliya talked about how neither high nor low ranks matter, which was all well and good coming from someone at the top of her league. Quinn did her best not to roll her eyes, deciding to settle on smiling instead. "Got it, I'll aim for middle of the league then," she said nodding, before bowing her head slightly at the 'great player' compliment, which was absolutely true. No doubt. "Ha! I would accept pay for that face-off." She knew that flying against Roman would be no problem for her, but it was always an honor to show other players how real seeking was done.

She finished her stretching after loosening up her quads a bit, smiling again as they decided that they were ready to play. Small talk was good and all, but flying would trump talking on any day, especially on a day when Quinn didn't want to think about anything except quidditch. "Ready!" she repeated, clapping her hands together. She gathered up her broom and swung it over her shoulder, following the Chaser to the pitch.

It was a nice stadium, sure, but Quinn couldn't help but compare every tiny detail of the place with her stadium in Falmouth, only to come to the conclusion that she liked it there much better than here. It was too bad they were playing here anyway, considering how embarrassing it was going to be for Liliya to lose at home.

Quinn mounted her broom as Liliya did, rising up at a quicker speed than her competition. She took her spot in front of the hoops, doing her best to keep her mind on the task at hand: giving Liliya hell while still trying to be as friendly as possible. After a few deep, calming breaths, Quinn threw a thumbs up down the pitch along with a loud, "Ready!" It was tough to keep her eyes on the quaffle and the player flying towards her, her body trained to instinctively look for the little flash of gold that was not going to be found today.

[wasn't sure what liliya was going to do, so feel free to take a shot on goal and say that quinn missed it~]

As soon as Quinn gave a thumbs-up, Liliya was off like a rocket, having temporarily forgotten that this was just a friendly practise between two international friends. Fortunately by the time she got within the scoring zone, she had come to her senses after realising there were no other Chasers behind her trying to steal the Quaffle. So she toyed with the Quaffle a little bit, watching Quinn's eyes which were following the Quaffle itself even though they seemed to be trying to dart everywhere.

Liliya thought she understood; the Falcon was used to searching for the Snitch, not keeping her eyes on a single fixed ball. This more than anything made Liliya lob it gently toward the lower goal, but even so Quinn was unprepared and the ball went through the hoop practically uncontested.

Liliya frowned. "You know," she said thoughtfully, "not very fair for me asking you to play a position you know while I play a position I do. Let's switch. Will be a bit more fair, yeah?" She swooped down after the Quaffle, already resting on the grass below them, and flew it back up to Quinn and placed it in her hands. "Give me... just a few seconds head start to get to other goals, and you go ahead and score on me then." Immediately she executed a tight tail-twigs turn and rocketed toward the far end of the field. In addition to having the Seeker play Chaser and the Chaser play Keeper, the Seeker's unfamiliarity with the field would be balanced by the Chaser having to defend a goal that she normally tried to score through. "Go!" she hollered across the field, giving Quinn a thumbs-up right back.

Quinn watched with wide eyes as Liliya started speeding towards her. So much for that 'friendly game' and her 'go easy on me' request. On any normal day, she would be dodging out of the way, doing whatever she could to not get hit by the various flying objects. She watched her friend fly, trying to keep her face serious and to not let on that she was actually a tad impressed. She needed to predict which hoop the Ukrainian woman was aiming towards, but she wasn't giving anything away.

She slowed before arriving at the hoops, making a bit of show with the quaffle, and Quinn's eyes followed it, her shoulders tensing up every time it looked like she was about to throw it. It was taking every bit of energy to squash the instinct out of her and to not dodge out of the way, rather to jump in front of the ball, but even with all her resolve, she still managed to somehow miss what was clearly an easy block.

Keeper was a stupid position anyway.

And thankfully, Liliya was going to take pity on her. Not that the woman ever would have asked for it; she would have found some excuse or another on which to blame her poor keeping skills. "Yes, let's," Quinn agree to the switching idea, doing her best to not roll her eyes as Liliya handed the quaffle to her rather than passing it to her from a few feet away. She watched the Chaser speed off, passing the quaffle from hand to hand as she waited for her signal. She took the occasional turn during training handling the quaffle, trying to score on her own Keeper, but either the Falcons Keeper was too good or Quinn was too poor at throwing (definitely the former option) that it wasn't often too helpful.

Quinn tucked the quaffle into the crook of her arm, her left hand gripping her broom as she leaned into it, shooting off down the pitch. At least she could have her own turn at showing off her flying since she was fairly confident that she wasn't going to be successful at scoring any points. She leaned to the right and into a few barrel rolls in quick succession, straightening up in time to dislodge the quaffle and aim it towards the center hoop a handful of feet away.

She slowed, watching the quaffle soar through the air, finally letting out the breath she didn't realize she was holding as it fell quite short of the hoop, passing it somewhere below. "Close enough," she said with a shrug, following after the quaffle and collecting it from the ground. "Maybe I can try some penalty shots or something," she suggested once she was level with Liliya again. "Hopefully aim it at the hoops so we can see if you're as good a Keeper as I am?"

Quinn was, as Liliya already knew, an absolutely wonderful flier. You had to be in the Seeker position, but Quinn almost made it an artform - or at least so it seemed to Liliya, who was a fairly straightforward "find the biggest hole in the defence and fly through it" player. It was actually kind of a delight to watch Quinn and her broom dance in midair, how casually she performed a series of barrel aerobatics... and before Liliya knew it Quinn was firing the Quaffle. Captain Wolanski had forgotten she was playing a friendly match yet again, because there had never been a day when she was guarding the goalposts or when she only had to watch a single player on the field, much less both at the same time.

Liliya had absently hovered over to the left goalpost as Quinn had leaned and rolled to her own right, which was actually quite a good tactic given the style of one-on-one play they had to resort to. So when Quinn shot for the centre hoop, Liliya had to orient herself and figure out where she was. While she got to the goal just in time, the ball never came to her chest... Quinn dove down and Liliya suddenly realised that the throw hadn't been either long enough, or powerful enough, to get through the hoop. This is really unfair of me, Liliya realised as Quinn came back up with the Quaffle, suggesting that she take some penalty shots.

"You deserve penalty shots for my torturing you with these position spots," Liliya responded to her friend. "You are a good sport but I don't want to make you play these uncomfortable jobs. So, best idea I've had yet. I get out the snicha, and we race to get it. Will be a good opportunity for me to embarrass myself against your skills, and make up for these last few minutes, right?"