GO FOR GOLD — OLYMPICS VILLAGE HUMAN AU

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    [center][fancypost= width: 450px; text-align: justify;][size=11][font=timesnewroman]Four years had already come and gone, and once again it was the Summer Olympics. This year's game would be hosted in London, where multiple Olympic games had already previously been organised. It was exciting times, especially for many of the younger athletes who had never visited the British city before, but most importantly this was their chance to bring their countries pride in front of a global audience, on the biggest stage there was. Everyone had their eye on the gold. She was no exception.


    The French woman was walking around the Olympic village, her pale blonde hair tied back in a high ponytail. Even when she wasn't dressed in proper playing attire, Alysanne liked to keep her hair pulled back from her face. She was dying to start but her matches wouldn't begin for another day. In the meantime, she could attend other sporting events, tour through the city, or hang around the Olympic village. All of those options were pleasing - especially when the whole city was practically sprinkled with international eye-candy. Perhaps she ought to go and visit the Spanish men's football team. After all, who didn't love a Spanish accent?


    OOC | FYI you don't need to know a single thing about your character's sport - we're just roleplaying out the socialising aspect in the Olympics village!
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    info — updated 2/16

    Wisteria wasn't participating in the Olympics herself, though she was a part of the staff that tended to the teams. She was the water girl, essentially, and her backpack was filled to the brim with water bottles. Though, she despised this little fact, as she knew most people only needed to drink when thirsty, not this eight bottles - or whatever - crap. Still, she needed the money, and being this close to something she would want to try in the future... well, she liked it.


    She was currently tending to the football team, handing out water bottles to whoever reached out their hand for one. She smiled at those who tried to pronounce her name, rolling the 'r' when they could. It was cute, so she didn't mind that they were practically butchering her name. She spotted the pale blond woman coming towards them and pulled a water bottle from her bag. They had plenty, so she was sure she could spare one for Alysanne.


    "Here you go, ma'am." she offered, a cheerful grin on her splotchy face. She wasn't nervous about her condition, as she had been in working conditions ever since her mom brought her out on them. The weird looks were ignored and she continued to wear her smile, proudly.

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    Eren stepped into the lobby of the building he would be staying in, teal gaze dancing with wonder and excitement. The Olympic games. To be able to attend at seventeen years old was easily the greatest thing that had ever happened to him. Though he'd been called mediocre when first starting out, he had trained long and hard in order to rise up the ranks and become one of the best and brightest boxers around.


    The young German yanked along his suitcase as he walked further into the hotel, still drinking in his surroundings. His event didn't start for another few days, so he'd only just arrived. He was still in his plane clothes - baggy sweatpants, a ratty old t-shirt from some boxing tournament, and Adidas slides with socks. His mop of brown hair was a mess, sticking up in various places and pressed down in others. He doubted his appearance was a great first impression, but he couldn't be bothered by that too much. They would all see the extent of his strength in the ring soon enough.


    As he was making his way towards the elevators, idly wondering if Mikasa had arrived yet, he accidentally bumped shoulders with Wisteria. Immediately he paused, a sheepish expression crossing his face. "Oh - hey, sorry about that," he would offer, scratching at the back of his neck.

    info | updated 2/09/2017

    He remembered the days he had been watching the Olympics on the TV. He remembered the wish he had made back then. And tomorrow he would be standing on the olympic soccer field alongside his teammates. Simon Storm was Belgium's goalkeeper in the U23 squad and many had high hopes for him. He himself wasn't that confident, but he had never really been a confident person. Sighing, the 21-year old walked around in the Olympic village. He was quite nervous and he could use someone to talk to... or did he? He wasn't that good at talking to strangers, really, and seeing the others had gone somewhere else to relax, he didn't have anyone familiar to talk to.


    It was then that he noticed Wisteria, Eren and Sweet. It seemed as though they were all strangers for each other, so maybe he could join in. THey all sounded like they had different accents, so... "M-Mind if I join y-you guys?", it was a rather strange sight. Storm was quite big, yet he was probably one of the least intimidating persons on the pitch.

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    The Olympics.
    Novo hadn't really expected their life to take a turn to this direction but all so suddenly it was a reality and they had to just simply go with it. They were in the Olympic Village, not as a spectator, no, but as a competitor. An athlete. Well, not really. They felt some conflict with that title considering their sport: equestrianism. They felt like they shouldn't get all the credit for their success, they weren't really the true athlete here, it was the horse that truly made all of this a reality. The horse and the bond between rider and animal.
    Novocain was the proud owner of a black Frisian mare, one they had trained themselves to be a horse for dressage. The bond they had with the beautiful animal was one unlike any other - they could sense the horse's feeling, emotions and mood. It was... Strange, but Novocain welcomed the bond.
    They were here competing for their nation, The United Kingdom. It was nice to compete in their own home nation. Even when such competition was expected they couldn't help but feel rather bored, what was better than to waste time with one's pet.
    By the city's barn Novocain held a bucket full of various brushes in one hand and a purple lead in the other that was coming down from the matching halter of their huge, black Frisian horse. On the halter the huge equine wore was a gold badge with their name engraved in it: Ace. In the showroom, however, the mare went by a longer title. Ace Of Spades.
    Hooking the beautiful animal up to a post, Novocain would tie the lead down into a quick release knot before raising their hand to rub the animal's muzzle, petting at the soft skin there before running fingers over her sides and eventually her back. Lowering the bucket they had brought along Novocain would reach down to pick up a black curry comb before starting to groom their horse in circular motions, picking up the bits of dirt that was in her pelt.

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    info updated 11/02

    [center][fancypost= width: 450px][font=helvetica][align=justify]It was impossible for Aurora to not get excited by the mere prospect of the olympic games. It would be her first time ever as a competitor, but the young girl had been training her entire life for this very chance and was not about to miss out on anything the experience had to offer. Sure, there had been older athlete's with keen, judgmental eyes that kept her in their sights the duration of her time in the city, but the 16 year old would not allow the stares of those who looked down upon her to detract from the gift that had been given to her.


    The young girl, with her long, curly white hair firmly tugged into a tight ponytail at the top of her head, walked down the Olympic street with her athletic bag still spiraling on her fingers and her body fit with running leggings and a ventilated pink top. Aurora had just got out of gymnastics practice with her coach at the local mats, a privilege she couldn't thank her mentor enough for; some of the other Norwegian girls competing in the Gymnastics division were hardly ever out of the supervision of their superiors, hardly ever able to take in the sights of the Olympic Village, hardly ever able to even meet the other competitors.


    Not much unlike how she acted back in Norway, Aurora was easily talking to anyone she may have passed on the street. She would ask them the same questions; what's your name? Where do you come from? What's your division? Her interrogations always ended with a wish to see each other on the field before the 16 year old was once again bounding down the concrete, her wide blue eyes glancing up and down the sidewalk in search of another athlete to meet. It was a great surprise to find four people she could meet, such a surprise that Aurora's eyes seemed to pop from their sockets as she picked up her speed, eager to fall into step beside the others.


    "Hey guys!" she greeted as she fell into stride beside them, a thick Scandinavian accent on her tongue. "You are all in the Olympics, right? Me too! Oh, I hope you guys all speak English, considering all the press that will be here... I'm still learning."


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    [center][fancypost= width: 450px; text-align: justify;][size=11][font=timesnewroman]"Je vous remercie," she thanked the young teenaged girl, patting her arm lightly. She would continue to speak French unless forced to divert to English. The young woman was rather proud of her home country after all, and had never understood why English was considered the international language - before or after coming to the London Olympics game.


    "Hmm," she blinked, looking over to Eren as the German suddenly bumped into Wisteria. German men were exotic too - even if they lived just north of the homeland. Unfortunately this one was far too young for her tastes. That was the trouble with the Olympics - good-looking people from their thirties to their teens were grouped in one unsupervised village.


    Losing interest quickly, she glanced to the Belgian football player as he approached, stuttering out nervously. "Quelle? You've come to check out the competition?" she hummed in her thick French accent, inclining her head meaningfully towards the Spanish football team. "Where you do hail from? Flanders?" That was her guess. A Belgian from Wallonia might have started off with French once they noticed her country.


    She turned to Aurora then, fair brow rising. "Oui - of course I speak English." She liked to think that she was very proficient even if she was far more descriptive in her natural tongue. "Did you all come to wish the team luck before they play?" This year the men's French football team hadn't even qualified for the Olympics. Naturally she was more inclined to cheer for the Spanish rather than the English.
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    info — updated 2/16

    "N-Not really, I-I just saw y-you together. B-Besides, I k-know how g-good they a-are. I've s-seen them play b-before", the goalie replied as he scratched the back of his head. His cheeks went red for a brief moment as he felt slightly ashamed, knowing that most people probably wouldn't believe him. He guessed that it was fine as long as he knew himself that it was the truth. Anyway, he was glad she changed topics soon after. "Y-Yeah", he nodded as he confirmed her suspicion. He was indeed from Flanders and although he knew some French, English just felt more natural to him.


    Briefly glancing at the Spanish players, he couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated. Storm believed the Spanish team was one of the favorites alongside England and Brazil. His team was just there for decoration, really, although some believed they were outsiders for the title. He would be happy if they managed to get out of the group stage... And that meant they had to end first or second in their group consisting of Belgium, Australia, Mexico and England.

    [center][fancypost= width: 450px; text-align: justify;][size=11][font=timesnewroman]Fair brow arching, the French tennis player could not help but laugh. "Monsieur la Belgique," she drawled. "I was teasing you." The Belgian fellow was so serious, wasn't he? She just hoped that didn't translate into him being no fun. Her tennis matches were already giving her enough stress - she just wanted to laugh and play around for the rest of the Olympic games. She was certain that she would never see any of these people again, and so she felt free to act as she pleased. Her heavy responsibilities from her home country had no place here, on British soil.


    Glancing at the others now, her pale gaze sweeping the room, she continued to speak. "Alysanne Targaryen - France's espoir for winning gold," she introduced herself, more playful than serious. "Tennis player," she expanded, her arms coming together to make a mock tennis hit.
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    info — updated 2/19

    [center]




    It was strange for him to feel a sort of authority over all these people. He knew he shouldn't feel this, since they were only just in his country, but yet he couldn't help swaggering over. The six foot man smiled warmly at everyone who had gathered around. He honestly had no idea who played what, but he did know who most of these people were. Karma was in archery this year, as he felt he had practiced well enough to try out it out in the Olympics. "What's up?" he inquired before glancing around the village. "I'm thinking about getting something to eat; I'm bloody starving. Anyone want something?" The man didn't mind using some of his money on others, especially since it was on food.


    (c)trexgirl

    The post was edited 1 time, last by fraser ().

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    Coincidentally, this young Russian-Pole had also qualified for archery, much like how he did four years ago at the tender age of 16. Perhaps it was a stereotype that ruskies liked to push the young to do exceptional things but hell, even Mieczyslaw knew it was for the greater good. Because how glorious was it to represent one's home country in a worldwide sporting event? Man, Mieczyslaw could attest to the incredible excitement and adrenaline rush whenever he arrived in the hosting country. This year was especially thrilling since not many archers qualified more than once for the event. And of course, that already implies his ass was going to try his darnedest to maybe go to a third game in the another four years.


    But that was way in the future for him. He didn't have to worry about it now, Mie just needed to make sure Russia looked spectacular in Archery this year. He had to make the long dead Soviet Union proud because on paper, even goddamned Ukraine had more medals than Russia in archery. Wasn't that a fucking embarrassment? Basically beaten by fields of barley, not people. Anyway, Mieczyslaw had already situated his belongings in the hotel room set aside for the competitors, so it wasn't a wonder to see him already out and about.


    This would be his first time in London and he had to admit, the weather wasn't as dreary as everyone described it to be. Or maybe, he was just a lucky charm. Clad in a grey graphic tee and some khaki shorts, the sunglasses wearing young man would happily gaze about, drinking in the sight of multicultural-ness. Diversity was fun, meeting people from other countries that had different customs was usually pretty/funny interesting, at least to Mie.


    Now, where was the vodka? Perhaps it was gross of him to want to have a sip of his country's national drink this early in the day, but he didn't give a shit. "Aleksei, (the following is in russian;) where are you, man?" He would call out after realizing he had lost track of his fellow countryman. He blamed it on dehydration. Maybe he should grab a drink from the water girl, but... Nah.
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    [center]I JUST REMEMBERED THAT I'M ABSENT MINDED

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    ALEKSEI

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    [font=georgia]Aleksei didn't get the point of going outside when all he wanted to do was enjoy a relaxing day at where they were staying. It was hot and muggy out here on the streets, compared to the cool, chill interior of their flat. Staying inside, away from the glare of the sun, enjoying a cold beer or two, watching television...


    The only fascination he had with London at the moment were the historical tidbits he could occasionally learn while walking through the city and the Olympics. He'd lived in London for some period of time, tagging along after his father's numerous business ventures, following him every time their company wanted someone somewhere. Then again, he could say that he'd lived in Beijing, New York, Tokyo, Paris before, too. If he had to pick a home, it would be Khabarovsk, in the middle of the Siberian forests, as that was the city where he had been born and his father's hometown. The sad part was that he didn't remember the majority of the time he'd lived there since he had been rather young.


    Again, he questioned at the wisdom of heading outside when he already knew what to expect, swimming through seas of tourists and pigeons alike. The tall Russian frowned slightly as Mieczyslaw's voice brought his thoughts back to what they were doing now. He pushed his way through the passels of pedestrians towards the other man. "What?" he answered, raising a brow as he offered Mieczyslaw his usual questioning look.

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    [center][font=times new roman][color=#c4ceff]"NOW DESTINY'S CALLING OUT YOUR NAME."

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    Eren offered Ophelia an apologetic look when she turned in his direction, but she was soon paying attention to someone else and so his face returned to its usual (slightly angry-looking) expression. He knew absolutely nothing about football, though it was relatively big in his country. At one point in his childhood, he had carried some interest for it, but that was long gone and he'd forgotten everything he once knew. His focus had turned to boxing by the time he'd reached grade six. He sort of spaced off, drowning out their conversation with his own thoughts. He was considering walking off. Then Karma brought up food, and he snapped back to reality. As if on cue, his stomach rumbled - he hadn't eaten since his plane ride. "I'm up for food," he offered the other male, doing his best to push his way into the circle of people that had formed, right between Aleksei and Mei. He cast his clear teal gaze on Karma, grinning. "Er, I'm Eren by the way. Boxer. German." Would Mikasa care if he left for food..? Eh. He could tell her. Oh - but what about his luggage..? Surely it'd be fine in the lobby. He could... hide it behind a potted plant, or something.

    info | updated 2/09/2017



    This young, albino Canadian had been watching the Olympics with his twin brother for years, always marveling at the figure skaters that were able to make such amazing displays and performances, something that eventually inspired him to actually sign up and compete as a competitive figure skater for quite a few years, being extremely amazed and actually brought to tears by his acceptance into the Canadian figure skating team, something that still surprised him and made him cry every time that is was brought up.


    Charlot had been quite occupied by his cousins for a good part of his current stay, only leaving them when he was summoned to come and stay with his team in their building. This had prompted the young Canadian to quickly pack up his stuff, get some left-overs to eat on his way to the 'Olympic village' and gather up his skates and costumes, carefully packing them into specially padded containers and boxes.
    He hoisted his numerous bags over his shoulders and pushed the dolly that was currently holding all of Charlot's important luggage. The sixteen year old froze as he noticed the group of Olympians that stood in a huddle, jaw dropping as he openly stared at them, struggling slightly to understand them with their mostly thicker accents.


    He paused, glancing at his luggage and making sure that everything was in order and that he was presentable before he made his way to the group, his quite young and unique appearance most likely startling and surprising them, because, you know, he looked like a thirteen year old albino kid.
    Charlot nervously fiddled with the patch on his jacket that displayed the rather simple Canadian flag of two red stripes and a red maple leaf on the white centre stripe, mouth opening and closing slightly as he struggled to figure out what to say before taking a deep breath and letting out a hesitant word.


    "H-Hello?..Uhmm.." His voice obviously had to crack as he spoke, drawing a very bright and obvious blush upon his pale face, cringing slightly as he felt the heat rush towards his head, knowing that he had an almost cherry-red blush upon his cheeks. "I-I'm Charlot Clementine, o-one of the partner skaters o-on the C-Canadian figure s-skating team."

    "Oh... S-Sorry", Storm replied as he scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. He was tense, making him even more oblivious than he already was. Turning towards the others that had arrived, the man would nod. This were his first and probably last Olympic Games seeing he would be 25 at the next Games. Sure, the coach could choose three players older than 23, but why would he choose a goalkeeper? No, he was quite sure this would be a once in a lifetime experience for him.


    "Food s-sounds g-good... I'm S-Simon S-Storm, but most c-call me S-Storm. Goalkeeper of B-Belgium's national soccer, or f-football, t-team", he said with a nodas everyone started introducing themselves while talking about food. Turning towards Charlot, he would tilt his head slightly. Surely he was one of the youngest Olympians around? He was probably the minimum age or something. Either way, he would force a small smile, mostly because he was a bit too nervous to act 'normal'.

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    /THEY ARE NOT BROTHERS IN THIS AU


    How did he manage to drag such an unwilling companion outside? Well, through methods that Mieczyslaw will not divulge since it’s irrelevant now. Looking about, the archer finally caught sight of the taller Russian once again. “C’mon, it’s time for a selfie,” Mie would grin and aim to pull in his countryman by encircling an arm around the small of their back as he fired up his snapchat, “I’ve got updates to be made.” Not only for snapchat but for Instagram too. Social media was torture yet at the same time a blessing.


    Mieczyslaw Volkov was every bit of his last name, he was a damned wolf when it came to food. His body had already made it known that he was thirsting and hungering but upon the German’s voice, the ruskie tuned into the background conversation once more. They were heading for grub? God bless, what timing?


    “Hey, may we join as well?” Mie would interject in somewhat labored English. Languages were Aleksei’s thing but it wasn’t like he wouldn’t try. At least he didn’t have that damned accent everyone in the home land had. “I’m Mieczyslaw, archer for Russia,” the man would then introduce simply before gesturing towards his male companion with a grin, “Aleksei, boyfriend for me.” Technically, Aleks was an archer as well, and marginally a better one, but Mie loved to introduce his man as his man. Speaking of homosexuality, how Mie's gay ass managed to qualify for his country was a question that he had been constantly asking.


    It didn’t take long for him to notice a slighter looking figure, not to forget to mention, quite incredibly pale. A Canadian? That’s what the maple leaf stood for, yeah? A figure skater, interesting. It was one of the bigger sports in his homeland and he of course, was a fan of it. If he could do two sports and excel at both, skating would be one of his top choices. “You come to watch us Summer Olympians toil?” The man would ask Charlot with a joking grin, figure skating was part of the Winter Olympics and had been since the World Wars. Why else would a winter sporter be here?


    "You look like you need a drink, friend," He would then remark towards the nervous seeming Simon Storm, the football player. Now that was a sport he didn't follow. There were too many faces and names to recognize and he didn't really put aside the time for it. But it didn't mean he couldn't be friendly towards the other guy.
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    [center]I JUST REMEMBERED THAT I'M ABSENT MINDED

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    ALEKSEI

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    [font=georgia]There was a small huff of annoyance as he felt someone push against him, however gently that it was. This was why he didn't enjoy heading outside in London's tourist season--one had obnoxious animals like this. The said animal made a noise, introducing himself and Aleksei gave the German a rather disdainful look. "Yes, happy to know," he commented dryly, a hint of irritation edging his voice. His English was good, since it was a lingua franca and generally present in every city he had lived in, with just the barest trace of a Russian accent.


    Outside of his name and that bare trace of a Russian lilt, Aleksei didn't look Russian at all. His father's family had lived in the Russian Far East for many years and intermarried with many of the local peoples over the generations while his mother was a second generation Chinese American who had met him while studying abroad. It was what could be considered a whirlwind romance, but their family fell apart when Aleksei's mother realized she didn't want to pack up her life every occasion his father was moved to a new country for the sake of the business. Fortunately, he stayed with his father and ended up exploring the world with him; Aleksei had nothing against his mother, but life in America would have been boring.


    He folded his arms across his broad chest, but was quickly accosted by Mie who attempted to take a picture with him. Aleksei was quite savvy with technology, but he had never gotten into the social media craze. He only had facebook, so he could scroll down a wall of memes, but that was about it. "No," he said in a final manner, in a tone that brooked no argument, as he attempted to stave off the other man's arm. But, of course, at the small crowd gathered around at the moment, Miecyzslaw of course had to interject into it and introduce them both.


    Aleksei was not too interested in meeting all the other Olympians today, considering the fact that he never did want to go outside in the first place, so he casually tuned out of the conversation with a sigh of exasperation. He was more interested in finding a nice spot of shade to relax. Or even better--they could just turn back to where they were staying and crack open a cold can of beer.

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    [center][font=times new roman][color=#c4ceff]"NOW DESTINY'S CALLING OUT YOUR NAME."

    The post was edited 1 time, last by ALEKSEI ().

    She'd always been a sports kid. First gymnastics, then hockey—she actually went through a curling phase. That had been weird. But the Jersey girl had always felt a pull towards fencing. It was like old timey stab duels, except totally legal and way more exciting. It had taken some serious training, but with her hyper movements, she was a blur of momentum, constantly on the move. It was her third year participating—and this year, Charlie planned to get her hands on a medal, preferably in gold. "Sup 'pop rocks,' you're looking sullen," chirped Charlie as she popped up begin Aleksi, cracking open a glass bottle of soda, grinning as it hissed. "Where you from my dudes?"

    [center][fancypost=bgcolor;borderwidth=0px;bordercolor=;text-align:justify;width:455px;][size=12][font='Times New Roman,Times,serif']Holy fuck he felt old, what was an old fart like him doing here anyways? Good question, Lanny wasn't sure, all he knew was that he was riding for Switzerland, riding his horse named Bonsai, why was it named that? Well it was a long and complex story that would probably put all these youngsters to sleep. The ancient (compared to everyone else) man, who was in reality no more than seventy years old stretched, and strode limberly towards the group of the Olympians. "Hey there!" He said cheerfully to the group of kids. His eyes roved from one to the next and he coughed slightly, well more than slightly. He wasn't as young as he used to be, but hell he could ride like he was a boy... well a very well trained boy. Naw he rode like a professional, but he felt young at heart when he was on Bonsai, there that sounded a lot better.

    [center][fancypost= width: 450px; text-align: justify;][size=11][font=timesnewroman]"Oui, if you are buying," she hummed (because English was her second language, contractions still confused her and she preferred not to touch them). Alysanne turned to look at the British Olympian. She didn't particularly care for the English - she was a nationalist after all and centuries of land-grabbing and old rivalries couldn't be forgiven even if, admittedly, the English empire had bailed out France in the last two world wars. But hey, she liked tall men. It was stereotypical to prefer taller partners, but Alysanne herself was tall for a woman, and it was difficult to find men (she was more lenient on women) of her standards for height.


    Turning as a Canadian approached, she eyed the kid with interest. Nervous fellow, wasn't he? "Are you from Quebec?" The best region of Canada and the most cultured - in her humbled opinion. Her attention quickly shifted elsewhere as Mieczyslaw and Aleksei approached. Russians. "It is a pleasure." They were a handsome couple, weren't they? But Aleksei looked to be in no mood for mindless pleasantries. Shame.


    She blinked as an American approached, cringing inwardly. "Hello monsieur." Her pale eyes shifted towards the older Olympian as he approached the group. "Switzerland?" The French woman recognised the uniform. "What sport?" He was... older than most Olympians. She imagined that he would not be competing in disciplines such as basketball.
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    info — updated 2/19