[Glasgow] until the thrill of speed overcomes the fear of death (Tara)

21st May 2004

It was such a stressful time. Aglaya often found herself breaking down in tears because she felt overwhelmed with her duties, her training and competition preparations and, worst of all, her own panic. Her family sent her to events where she had to act all professional, where she was not supposed to reveal any insecurities or even fear, their expectations seemed ridiculous and sometimes Aglaya felt stuck in a cycle. She didn’t want to quit the sport, not knowing what her future would be like then, but she also felt that she wasn’t strong enough to keep going like this for a long time to come.

While the presence of her bodyguards was meant to reassure her and make her feel safe, Aglaya felt anxious when she was out in public. She wanted to hide, had even considered brewing polyjuice potion so she could pretend to be someone else, someone who wasn’t popular. However, this was a dream more than anything she could put into action. There was no time to work on a complex potion when she could barely find the energy to get through the days and the time for a proper night’s rest.

Usually the busiest time for artistic flyers was the summer - in July and August the important championships took place. Those were the months that really mattered. May was really just the beginning of the season and yet, this time, May was incredibly busy. Aglaya had been to the sportswoman of the year event, would have to judge a little competition of the artistic flying club at Durmstrang and, of course, she had to participate in qualifying events. The media attention was high, probably higher than it had ever been in the past and Aglaya struggled through the press conference.

Today was no exception to this. The young woman who had only recently received another letter from her stalker felt tense, anxious and could barely focus on the questions she was asked.

’You’re competing at your first competition after having been crowned Sportswoman of the Year tomorrow - do you feel any different about it now?’

Aglaya stared at the journalist and shook her head. “No,” she said and got to her feet. “If you excuse me, the time is up,” she made a beeline for the private area of the flying school and leaned against a wall, trying to fight the anxiety that was building up inside of her. Why couldn’t she just be the confident athlete anymore? Why was the prospect of being out in public so daunting?

Suddenly she found herself face to face with Branimir who gave her some kind of knowing look and told her to join him for a fun night out. ’You’ll enjoy it,’ he said but Aglaya wasn’t convinced. He explained he’d like to introduce her to a scene he was in and that was surely good to distract her from her current worries. A distraction sounded somehow intriguing although Aglaya was quite ready to just go home and get some rest after a long day. However, Branimir told her to change into something comfortable that wouldn’t attract unnecessary attention and after she had done that he apparated them to Glasgow.

Aglaya was wearing mustard yellow sneakers, black jeans and a black hoodie. Branimir smiled at her as he pulled the hood over her head to conceal her red curls and then, finally, said what they were here for. “Broom races?” the artistic flying champion echoed, looking at her bodyguard in surprise. It had never occurred to her that he might be a part of such a scene. In fact, she had never given his personal life or the scene much thought at all.

Branimir showed her around, greeted some people and lightly introduced her as a Russian friend called Marina. ’Oh, there’s Tara!’ he exclaimed and waved at a young witch. ’If you ever need a modified racing broom, she’s your girl,’ he said loud enough for Tara to catch that, too. Aglaya felt a little insecure all of a sudden and even considered apparating home but she could feel Branimir’s gaze resting on her and she decided that she could always disapparate later if she still felt out of place then. Maybe he was really right and this change of scenery would help her to relax.

@Tara Kingsley

((so sorry for the delay <333))

Tonight was going to be good, she could feel it in the air.

She had apparated to the outskirts of Glasgow at dusk, it felt cool even as May's burgeoning heat hung in the air. Tara did her usual routine of walking the race path, noting sharp pin turns and twists, visualizing herself in the air and on her favorite broom. Her baby. The one she was all too happy to have gotten back from the fuckers who stole it after the last broom race had been raided by Ministry officials. That threat of being caught wasn't a deterrent for her, however. It was a challenge. And honestly? They had never had any trouble in Glasgow. Tara actually had a great record in this city so she could feel her excitement mounting as she got closer to the start point.

The usual crowd was already there. Fred from behind the bar gave her a shot and she gave him a smile in thanks as she slapped palms with friends and threw playful jabs at others. The cool air brushed against the bare skin of her back in her backless black top that she had paired with faux leather pants, perfect for riding and her usual black cap with the equally black Ace symbol on top, her calling card. She was right in the middle of asking a friend what the lineup was tonight and why he would even bother betting on anyone else but her, when she heard her name. Her real name. Most just called her Ace.

With brows raised, she turned, glancing over her shoulder, and smirked. Ah, Branimir. He was as handsome as he was tall and a cute accent to boot. And he obviously knew how to give a compliment. She grinned at him in hello before shifting her gaze to his friend. But who was this? "Yeah, but you better be willing to pay top dollar. I only make the best," she boasted before she laughed. It was true, but she wasn't really here to sell. Only race. "Here to watch?" she asked the girl beside her friend, wondering why she looked a little lost.

Everything here was foreign to her and yet there was this thrilling competition flair in the air that Aglaya used to love so much. She liked competing, proving herself, showing what she was capable of. That Branimir could relate to that was a surprise as was the entire scene. Of course, Aglaya had heard about broom races but she had never considered them a worthy thing but before this one even started she revised her opinion on them.

The girl Branimir had just waved at came towards them and Aglaya wondered if she knew anything about artistic flying and if she’d recognise her. Her face had been on magazine covers, in newspapers. While the sport of artistic flying was still far from being as popular as Quidditch, for example, she was the face of the sport and had been the most popular athlete in artistic flying for years.

Tara asked if she was here to watch and Aglaya glanced at Branimir. What had been his plan for her here? If he was going to compete himself, she was not going to stand in a crowd alone. He didn’t bring a broom but that didn’t necessarily mean a lot. He could have someone else bringing it here for him. Branimir’s expression was hard to read, but his smile was warm and encouraging.

“Is it too late to sign up for the race?” Aglaya asked, looking from Branimir to Tara. “If there’s a chance to borrow a racing broom somewhere, that is.” She felt her heartbeat quicken but this time it wasn’t really unpleasant.

’What do you say?’ Branimir asked, grinning at Tara. ’Could you pull some strings and get us both on the lineup? Or do you suddenly fear the competition?’ Aglaya could tell that Branimir was teasing the other witch and offered a little smile herself.