BEARCELONA 2010 [opentoall]

[Ivan Braginski]

BEARCELONA

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Let's have a few guidelines for this here manly event, shall we?[/center][/size]

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[Ivan Braginski]

One would think that an event with the word 'bear' in it would assume an event dealing with the large, hairy creatures--though in theory, such was still true.

When Ivan had purchased the ticket to the event, he had initially found it strange that it said to meet at the Aqualeon's pool. He had merely chalked it up to being yet another foreign custom to him; no matter where he went, really, the differences between the cultures often startled him. Manners, words, phrases--was there no universality? No matter, he had simply shrugged it off and walked to the pool, assuming that the group would then disperse and make their way onto the 'safari' grounds of the park. There, he thought, he may finally find his first Spanish bear...and take it down, for that matter. Were he to ever make a bucket list, 'wrestle a bear from every country' certainly would have been on it.

What he had walked in on was far from what he was expecting.

Whether this was a lapse in translation or cultural assimilation Ivan couldn't tell--all he knew was that he was currently waist-deep in a pool full only of men. Walking into the room had earned him a hearty pat on the back from a stubby fat man, welcoming him to the party. Before he could speak, Ivan had been pointed to the locker room and, after admitting his confusion, been told of the semantics of the word 'bear'.

The rational part of Ivan's mind was shouting at him to leave--it was only a small loss financially, and it was far too strange a situation for him to feel comfortable in. Yet the other side of him...the side that yearned for danger and new experiences, had him stripped to his underwear and in the pool. Those who knew him could easily tell you that Ivan was a man fairly set in his customs--a man who looked with disdain at the thought of change and innovation. He would respond that there were simply times when it was fun to rebel against himself and his normal ways...if only to prove to himself that he could do such foolish things.

Ivan looked around the packed pool around him, thoroughly taking in all of the sights. Men, men, everywhere! Some round, some hairy, some young, some old. Men talking, men swimming, men kissing, men...

His thoughts were interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. He looked over to see a stout man grinning toothily at him. Once he had Ivan's attention, the man spoke. He told Ivan that he and his friend's were going to be starting a huge chicken fight, and asked whether Ivan would do him the favor of sitting on his shoulder's and playing for him. Ivan's befuddled expression must have given him away, for the man elaborated, explaining the game: one man sat on another man's shoulders, forming a 'team'. Then the teams fought, the person on top wrestling with other tops to try and pull them into the water. The last team standing won.

He had simply inspected the man for a moment, truly questioning whether the man was sane or not. Again his mind protested, reminding him that he hated physical contact--and again he agreed, his challenging side refusing to give in.

The man submerged himself underwater, and Ivan positioned himself into a sitting position on his shoulders. As the man stood, Ivan watched as a large grouping of other men (at least 20 teams, from his quick estimation) did the same. He beamed as one of the men announced the start of the competition, and his base ran forward and into the fray.

Perhaps this 'Bearcelona' wouldn't be so bad, after all?



OOC: Damn right, I'm throwing mothafuggin chicken into this thread. Who wants to plaaay? Ivan will rip you apart <3

[Antonio Fernandez Carriedo]

Antonio loved parties, in fact that was a bit of an understatement. But explaining how much he did love parties didn’t matter. Either way it was easy to say that the Spanish man was ecstatic about “Bearcelona”. He had purchased his ticket as soon as they went on sale and even got new swim trunks for the event. As to where Antonio acquired red and yellow swim trunks with tomatoes and turtles on it, was a mystery best never solved.

Donned in nothing but his new trunks and a gold cross around his neck, he made his way to the party. Eyes lit with anticipation, he had to control himself from running. IT wasn’t the idea of big, burly, hairy men that made Antonio want to join this party as much as he did. Not that he didn’t mind some manly companionship every once in a while. No the idea of swimming, wrestling and god knows what else with new and old friends made him giddy. If Antonio loved anything it was friends, and a good time. After all they just, but only just beat his love of tomatoes.

His excitement bubbled over as he handed the ticket in and entered the party. He pumped a fist in the air, grinning widely. “Deje el partido comenzar a mis amigos!” A resounding cheer was heard as the men welcomed Antonio. Old friends came up and greeted him, slapping him harshly on the back, putting him in headlocks, mussing up his hair. Antonio could only chuckle in response hugging them each in return.

Of course Antonio’s attention was quickly caught by the action in the pool. Chicken. A wide competitive grin spread over his face and he quickly convinced one of his friends to play with him. Of course as his partner was jumping into the water, one of Antonio’s more mischievous friends snuck up behind him, and shoved him to the ground. And before the Spanish man had even a moment to react, he had been pants-ed and the man had run away, Antonio’s swim trunks on his head. Standing up Antonio yelled amused after the man in Spanish. Who only proceeded to turn around and blow a raspberry at him. Antonio just laughed again and sat upon his poor, confused partner’s shoulders. Antonio didn’t mind losing his swim trunks, it gave him the chance to show off his all over tan. On the other hand, his partner inwardly squirmed slightly. He didn’t mind if other men were gay oh no, he just wasn’t… and he definitely didn’t like the feeling of another man’s junk on his back. Where we a pair of nice soft boobs when he needed them?

A grin never leaving his face, Antonio urged the poor man beneath him forward, not even noticing his discomfort. His partner sighed and put up with it… maybe, he could just, forget about it. Yeah… forget about it and have fun. After a man announced the start of the competition, the nude man shielded his eyes, looking around for someone to play with. Spotting a large, pale, blonde-haired man he pointed him out to his partner. “¡Allí!” They ran over to the blonde man, none the wiser of who he was. “Hola!” Antonio smiled again, getting ready to play.

OOC: :D Antonio wants to plaaaaayyyyy~!
Deje el partido comenzar a mis amigos!: Let's get this party started my friends~!
Allí!: There!
Hola!: Hello!