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- Paris, August 3 2024 -
If there is a word that is crossing the overused line this year, that's "weird".
But this humble reporter can not honestly find a term that fits the delegation from Dominicus better.
Or the whole Country - sorry: Archipelago, to be honest.
Anyone into biotech knows this Pacific island cluster as The Place at the forefront of research, whose scientists regularly blow their peers' minds at conferences.
People more into anthropology might find interesting the story of how a group of British intellectuals who considered themselves "industrial refugees" relocated to the most remote place they could find and seamlessly integrated with the local population. Although, it's worth noting that official history and actual events from the late 1700s often diverge.
Do you like bizarre governing bodies? Then you probably know that Dominicus is technically a kingdom. Surprisingly, their King is the same guy who led the aforementioned expedition - meaning he should be over 300 years old, so it's likely an honorary title. Meanwhile, the actual government is run by the local nobility. Making sense of how said, very hands-on, nobility works deserves its own article: just so you know, you can't throw a stone to the Dominicus delegation in Paris without hitting a Prince or a Baron or a Duchess.
But you definitely don't want to throw any stones in their direction: half of them are part of biotechnology research teams whose brains are too valuable, and the other half are army officers that could easily kill you, even if they look like teenagers.
Speaking of teenagers, everyone remembers Dominicus' debut at the Opening Ceremony: two of their gymnasts dared each other to do acrobatics on the parade boat, ending up doing handstands on deck while the whole world watched.
Just to promptly fall into the Seine, followed by a bunch of teammates who jumped in to save them, to be later recovered by the French Marines on duty.
The cameras alternating between the sputtering athletes and the twin Princesses, also heads of delegation, seated with the other authorities, gifted the internet with meme material for years. This might be due to Princess Coronabeth of Ida being unanimously considered the most beautiful woman ever, or her sister Ianthe single-handedly increasing Paris' pollution with her unholy cigarettes.
Anyway, expect a whole gallery of Coronabeth's best outfits (spoiler: all her outfits are best) whenever the editor will be able to look away enough to upload them correctly.
But back to the surprise (and doubtfully sanitary) dip the Dominicus athletes took in the Seine.
They seemed drenched but alright until, the day before the fencing tournament in which their female epee team was expected to excel, tragedy struck: both Judith Deuteros and Marta Dyas, the team's most experienced athletes, were hospitalized with a nasty E. Coli infection.
Though Dyas was definitely out of the games, Princess Coronabeth herself was seen escorting Deuteros out of the hospital and back to her personal Suite at The Ritz just a couple of hours later. Hands-on nobility, as we said.
One fencer down should not be a major issue: time for the reserve to step up, problem solved, right? Wrong.
The reserve that Aiglamene, the 87-year-old coach of Dominicus, registered for the epee team was the infamous Gideon Nav.
If you haven't followed fencing in this Olympics and don't know her, let me enlighten you: not only does Gideon Nav do sabre, not epee (and they're quite different in terms of techniques and preparation), but this boisterous redhead was kicked out of the singles tournament for - yes, I'm not making this up - punching one of her teammates, who was competing in a different weapon at the same Grand Palais.
That should've warranted a permanent ban from the team, right? Again, wrong.
Apparently, the ever present Princesses told the offended party, foil bronze winner Naberius Tern, to "suck it up" and decided to let Nav stay.
Luckily for them, since Nav, 19, sporting a physique more akin to those you see on the rugby field than to the lithe frames common in fencing, who seemingly came out of nowhere to make top two in the Asia & Oceania qualifiers tournament, saved the day.
Actually let's be honest: a good part of the day was saved by Camilla Hect, the third team member.
Hect, a data analyst by trade, was the stable force behind every victory: both consistent and reactive on the piste and unflappable outside, either in pointing Deuteros to the nearest bathroom and handing her electrolytes, or quietly talking to Nav who, apart from wearing sunglasses inside, looked on the brink of a panic attack for most of the day. Eh, whatever works.
So, with a bit of luck and quite a lot of back and forth with someone who could be easily described as a bespectacled nerd but is apparently a master strategist, the Dominicus team somehow scrambled their way to the final, where they must've seemed like an easy opponent for France.
Contain Hect, attack a barely standing Deuteros, and let Nav's nerves get her a couple more red cards. Easy, right? Once again, wrong.
To be honest, it started exactly like that until, in the weirdest move so far, another confusing actor showed up to take one of the VIP seats of the Palais besides the ever present Princesses: a bit of grilling of the Press Attache (one Lady Pent, because of course, hands-on nobility) defined her as an important religious figure. To a collective "Uh?" from the journalists on site who just now learned Dominicus has some form of religion.
And what does the eminent Reverend Daughter look like? Glad you asked.
Picture the Pope. Done? Now throw away that picture and think of a little nun with the most conservative all-black outfit possible. Done? Now up that to eleven and add a Kiss-level of ceremonial make up in the form of a skull and you might come close to the person that came to cheer for Dominicus.
If by "cheering" you meant "silently staring, looking increasingly angrier at one fencer in particular", that is.
Anyway, I digress.
After the second rotation, Coach Aiglamene decided to switch players for the final round, moving Hect to second-to-last and leaving Nav as the finisher.
In what seemed like a self-inflicted disaster, Deuteros was steamrolled by Louise-Marie, and Hect did her best but was stalled by the tactically adept Vitalis.
This left Nav needing to recover eleven points in three minutes against Mallo-Breton, who had won silver in the singles tournament just days before.
Impossible, right? Yet again, wrong.
Two seconds before pulling down her mask, Nav turned towards the Reverend Goth Pope, who mouthed something while managing to look a blend of angry and disgusted.
Then Nav yelled, "We do bones, motherfuckers!" and proceeded to give a fencing masterclass for the next three minutes.
To the untrained eye, Nav seemed to be everywhere at once, parrying and thrusting effortlessly, moving just enough to avoid contact while setting up her next move. She attacked her opponent with such relentless athleticism that she drove her off the piste twice.
To the trained eye, it looked even more incredible: back in the 1950s, a few successful fencers switched between foil and epee, but switching between sabre and epee is unheard of. Doing it in a matter of days? Even more. And doing it successfully? Miracle level.
Luckily we have ample video footage for everybody who is not too attached to their jawbone to peruse.
In the end, Dominicus won 45-43 and the 8000+ people present were able to enjoy their national anthem while discretely googling why a Pacific Archipelago has a cow's head outline on its flag.
As for the heroine of the day, Nav jumped off the podium, up the stands, and handed the gold medal to the Reverend Daughter - calling her "penumbral lady" and getting a "shut up, you yellow-eyed moron" in return. And then kissed her on the forehead, oblivious to the approximately 8000 phones pointed their way.
Needless to say, all the journalists trampled each other to be the first to score an interview with either Gideon Nav or "Harry" - as Princess Ianthe kept addressing her - but were politely told by the team manager (a Duchess, of course) that it is not possible due of a silence vow.
And before anybody could refer to the fact that both of them were talking to each other 30 seconds ago, she also announced that Princess Ianthe will be holding a press conference at The Ritz soon to talk about her successful Olympics, so there's that to look forward to, I guess. Hope she brings her sister.