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His Troublesome Progeny
By Nara Occult
Summary: Terrance has screwed things up again, and this time his father tolerate it. Enter the most unlikely people to teach a boy manners… who might just make things worse before they get better.
Disclaimers: This story is rated M for (Heterosexual) adult content, language, violence, drug use, etc, so be forewarned.
Chapter Two: “Too Much Beer and Terry Disappears”
Sighing a little, the young woman of 20 flashed her key card and waited for the gates of the mansion to open for her, before slipping inside and entering to a scene of chaos. The normally impeccably elegant estate had feathers all over the floor and loud music pumping from another room. Grateful that it wasn’t her place, (her parents would have had a heart attack), she secured her long light brown hair back into a plait, left her briefcase by the door and ventured inwards.
“THAT IS MY MOTHER’S ANTIQUE TABLE YOU’RE DANCING ON TOP OF!”
The agitated male voice came from the sitting room, as the song got louder and she realised she could hear a thumping sound, presumably caused by the dancers, as well as laughter.
Opening the door, she was greeted by the owner of the house, Tai, standing hands on hips and glaring impressively at the two dancers busy doing handstands on said antique table. Tai, 22, had dark brown hair kept short and normally spiked up, and vivid blue eyes, and a very strong, athletic body although he lacked the height to make him a ‘perfect catch’ in most girls’ eyes. He was in khaki trousers and a black polo, generally dressed down.
On the table was Sienna, 20, a girl with straight (dyed) chocolate brown hair to just below her shoulders, a naturally curvy body, and green eyes which generally looked a cross between murky green and brown unless she stepped into the right light. Her dancing partner, Damien, 21, was tall with a strong, wiry body, naturally tanned skin because of his heritage, light brown eyes and hair bleached until it was almost white. They’d tossed off their shirts in favour of a bare chest and a crop top on Sienna’s part, and had baggy tracksuit pants on.
Snickering on the couch and watching the dancing duo was Alexander and Melissa, 20 and 21 respectively. Alexander was average height, almost deceptively slim considering his strength with blue eyes and naturally black hair that was so dark it almost had a blue tinge to it. Melissa was practically Alexander’s opposite, especially clothing wise. Alexander was wearing a button up shirt and neat looking jeans, Melissa in army fatigues and a bulky jacket despite the fact it wasn’t cold. Melissa was a small wiry woman with short, shaggy black hair and blue eyes. She wasn’t unattractive, but was utterly uninterested in wearing makeup or figure enhancing clothes. Her brown eyes were currently being rolled as Damien winked at her and made a ‘come hither’ motion.
“I’ll pass, thanks,” she laughed.
They looked curiously at the woman, Lucile, who had just entered.
“So, how’d it go?” Tai asked.
“Are you going to turn the music off so we can discuss this?” Lucile asked, eyebrows raised.
“Yes mom!” Damien grinned, reaching to do her bidding.
“Well, it wasn’t particularly easy, but we all have an interview tomorrow morning.”
“Holy crap, I can’t believe you managed that!” Sienna laughed.
“This is going to be interesting…” Melissa raised her eyebrows.
“You can say that again,” Alexander sighed, before Damien turned the music back up and Tai gave up protesting about his poor mother’s table.
The room was soundproofed, with a perfectly monotonous grey theme. A dark grey carpet, light grey walls, black chairs and a white ceiling, with a long dark red wood table. Sitting on one side of the table were three people, Rupert MacRoberts, Georgia MacRoberts and Rowan Morialta. The first, the current president of the United States of America, was a reasonably fit man for his years of 55, with salt and peppered hair (black with grey streaks), brown eyes and a stern but encouraging demeanor. Georgia MacRoberts, the first lady, was always impeccably dressed with conservative but flattering clothes. She had short hair dyed a honey blonde, and blue green eyes, but her smile was most outstanding thing she wore. She was increasingly popular with the minority groups in the electorates for her unwavering respect for people in all kinds of situations, though she paid particular emphasis to women and children. The final member of the judging panel was Rowan Morialta, a fit, built blonde man with a sternness to him, the well known and time proven head of the President’s security entourage.
In contrast, the 6 young adults who sat before them couldn’t have been more different. The three males were wearing pressed black pants, white shirts, black jackets and a black tie. The females wore black skirts, stockings, flat pointed black shoes, white shirts and black jackets. All in all they had made a professional and coordinated effort, but as individuals, they were quite different. They sat facing the three judges, from left to right Melissa, Sienna, Lucile, Alexander, Damien and Tai.
“Lucile presented me with an interesting proposal yesterday, so I’d like you all to explain a little about yourself, your qualifications, your interests and your role in …taming my son,” Rupert decided, hands tapping the desk. Rowan and Georgia sat forward in interest.
The girl on the end began to speak in a forward and no nonsense manner. “My name is Melissa Malgrave. I have a gun license, am qualified and fully trained in archery, shooting with handguns and rifles, minor explosives and can use a rocket launcher. I was with our armed forces for 3 years, beginning just after I finished high school, and leaving because I needed a change of pace. I enjoy weapons and learning weapons as well as learning about foreign culture. I am a straight forward, calm person who plans out her tasks and aims to achieve her goals. I am responsible in my handling of weapons. I believe I could provide both a basic defence for your son in many situations, as well as a calming, pragmatic influence, and a chance for him to shoulder his responsibilities gradually.” Melissa said calmly.
“A weapons expert… what are your views on violence?” Georgia MacRoberts turned startlingly stern eyes on Melissa.
“I believe there are situations which require violence, and situations where violence is the worst possible choice. While I enjoy weapons and honing my skills with them, I don’t believe in war, nor in death matches, as seen sometimes in other countries. I especially believe that children, innocents and civilians should never be dragged into a political war, which is one of the reasons I quit the army,” Melissa finished, making eye contact with them all.
“I should very much like to see an example of your work,” Rowan decided, and Melissa simply nodded.
“Now, Sienna, is it?” Rupert turned to the next girl.
“My name is Sienna Bloom. I studied Anthropology for two years at College, I am a dancer, formerly a gym instructor, and club owner. I love dancing and social interaction, trying out new things, and am qualified for a few extra things like we all are. My role in training your son would be primarily to entertain and distract him, so he is more focused on having fun with us than causing trouble. As our plan progresses, our roles will change slightly, becoming both more developed and more subtle. I am one of the distractions, if you will,” Sienna grinned.
“By distraction… do you mean you plan to sleep with our son?” Rupert asked clearly.
“Our intention is not to seduce your son physically, but mentally. If we use the press like we plan to, which Lucile will no doubt go further into depth on, then it may be implied that we are sleeping together. But I have no doubt that that would have occurred anyway. I can assure you that having sexual relations with your son is not a part of our agenda… any of ours. In fact, it would probably complicate things quite badly,” Sienna said seriously.
“Can you defend yourself at all?” Rowan asked curiously.
“We are all proficient in archery, car handling at high speeds, general dancing, basic singing, hand guns and basic judo, having all done the same courses together over a three year period. I am not fantastic; I’m certainly no martial arts expert, but with an element of surprise, the skills I have learnt may come in useful,” Sienna honestly evaluated.
“When you say you did these courses over a three year period, can you elaborate?” Georgia asked.
“We spent 6 months in two sessions per week on each of our chosen sports. We met learning archery, and stayed friends, making the agreement to all try 6 months of a course each one of us wanted to do. So we have 6 months proficiency in each skill,” Sienna explained.
“How very interesting… I’m sure we will get to how that came about later,” Rupert acknowledged, turning his gaze to Lucile.
“I have already spoken of my intentions and our basic aims to the President, so if I skip over some areas or repeat myself, please, feel free to let me know. My name is Lucile Wilson, and I am 20. I have been studying at College though for this year and next year if needed, I am deferring. I have so far been doing a double degree combining media management and law. One of my main hobbies is singing, and of course, we were all involved in the courses Sienna has just been discussing. As for myself, you might notice that my personality is in general, rather calm. Alexander and myself shall be the voice of reason in this group, and my other role in this group will be to promote and present a positive media profile of both our group and your son, after we have turned his energy towards productive pursuits. While it is easy to say this in theory, I cannot explain any further because the formation of our detailed plans will depend very much on your son. We need to emphasize his talents and interests, not attempt to force him into something he won’t cope with,” Lucile uttered calmly.
“And what will you do if Terrance continues to defy you?” Rowan asked calmly.
“That is where our distractions come in. While we intend to approach him and gain his trust as a friend, we will be loyal to him. I believe that if he is as intelligent as everyone says he is, he will recognise that we are not twisting the truth. He knows why we are coming, and we will not sugar-coat it for him. If he cannot accept that… then I suppose our only option at that point will be to terminate the contract.”
“Very well then,” Rowan nodded, and the scrutiny was turned to Alexander.
“My name is Alexander Turner. I have a degree in international and internal politics, and a good understanding of manners and behaviour for polite society.”
“Turner, Turner… You wouldn’t be Amity’s son, would you?” Georgia enquired.
“Yes, she was my mother,” Alexander acknowledged.
“A fine woman,” Georgia smiled.
“A smart woman!” Rupert recalled.
“And what was your role in this whole conspiracy?” Rowan turned the attention back to the task at hand.
“I have some skills and connections, enough that I can generally pull enough strings to avert any minor disasters, or with Lucile, put a good spin on things. In the long term, I aim to teach Terrance some political sense, so that instead of a crude attack reflecting badly on himself, he will have a smooth barb which will affect the other party as it was designed to. We want him to behave responsibly, but have the ability to play the media in the meantime. And of course, I aim to teach him how to behave like a well bred gentleman, if at all possible,” Alexander concluded dryly.
“If possible indeed… I’m very curious to see how you two will get along,” Rupert mused with an almost sadistic twinkle to his eyes.
Their attention turned to Damien, who was next in line.
“I’m Damien Pierce, I guess you could say I’m Sienna’s counterpart. I’m the distraction, the male who will be more friend than teacher. I like video games, the odd beer, a good action movie with meaningless scantily clothed females and other activities. I’m a dancer… I specialise in break dancing. I’ve previously worked as a dancer in a club, a bartender, an ill fated stint at Wal-Mart and as a Break dancing tutor. I’m a laid back person, and while I won’t tolerate violence, sexual harassment or bullying, I like to think I am open minded and rather hard to bait in a fight,” Damien finished.
“You have said that you enjoy ‘meaningless scantily clad females’, I believe that was the term you used. Tell me why I would want my son learning that kind of an outlook from you,” Georgia MacRoberts said coldly. Damien looked to Lucile, who indicated he should answer.
“Madame President, First Lady, Ms MacRoberts… whatever I’m supposed to call you... I probably shouldn’t be blunt but I will, because I’m going to be truthful, and then you can tell for certain whether I am a suitable candidate. Your son already has much less respect for women than I do, and I can tell you that with certainty. I have never treated a woman so callously as your son seems to do,” Damien pointed out, and Georgia nodded, obviously awaiting more.
“You may find this rather unbelievable, some women do, but I’m going to make a comparison here. I’m sure you’ve seen one of those nude male calendars, where lifesavers or fire-fighters pose and win hearts and raise money nation wide. I’m pretty sure those men are being looked at as objects, for their body alone. But I think that’s ok, because they knew what they were getting when they signed up for that. My view on men and women in that particular line of business is they knew they would be oggled for their bodies, and for them, the downside is clearly overcome by the benefits. In my opinion, they are fair game.” Damien explained, which Georgia was not liking in any way shape or form.
“However other women who are just going about their everyday life, trying to find love etc, should not be looked at without taking into account their actions and personality. Women and men are all human, regardless of race, gender, age… In real life, respect is needed. But TV is not real.” Damien finished, and Georgia raised an eyebrow but appeared to concede the point.
“You mentioned you worked as a dancer, I assume you don’t mean exotic?” Rowan asked idly.
“I mean both. I worked as an exotic dancer and a normal dancer, thus I can assure you Mrs. MacRoberts, I understand being objectified,” Damien grinned.
“Did you ever take your clothes off or enter into prostitution?” Rupert asked, alarmed.
“No, I’m not quite ready to sink to that low yet,” Damien informed them, not at all offended. The three judges looked at each other hesitantly, before motioning to the last person.
“My name is Tai Waltman and I am 22 and an armed Forces Officer on leave for a year. I enjoy being fit, martial arts and meditation. I am a black belt in Karate, skilled in Judo and my goals are to try and combat my weaknesses. I feel satisfaction at the completion of a task or improvement of a skill. I am here not only to protect your son and help him with his own self defence skills and meditation, but to show him discipline. You would not know it, but I have a fierce temper, and employ mediative techniques on a regular basis to control myself. I believe witnessing someone who can and does use methods to try and better himself would be a positive enforcement, in addition to my physical presence,” Tai recited almost monotonously.
Rupert looked at him in amusement.
“You all seem to be a very… diverse group of friends,” Georgia uttered the understatement of the year.
“All the better to help focus your son,” Lucile smiled.
“Well, I can’t see any problems so far. You are all undergoing background checks as we speak. After I have spoken to Rowan and my wife, we will make our decision. Should it be in your favour and your background checks are completed, our security will run you though procedures,” Rupert informed them.
“We also have another favour to ask…” Lucile smiled calmly.
“And what is that?” Rupert asked warily.
“We’d like your staff, or your permission for us to do it, to create a fake history to ensure that our families won’t be disturbed. We will operate and play to the media, generally speaking, under nicknames, or variations of our actual names. We want you to create a basic history for us with perhaps, parents in other countries or who are dead, so as not to disturb anyone we know. We can work with you on this.” Lucile said earnestly.
“Very well, it will take some string pulling but I have favourable contacts in the media who will fake your profiles for tip offs as to the action,” Rupert mused.
“We will make our decision and get back to you by Friday. Enjoy your week,” Rowan indicated for them to leave and they did, via the back entrance.
“That was intense!” Sienna groaned.
“Did you see their faces when they asked you if you’d been an exotic dancer?” Tai snickered at Damien.
“Hey, I could have told them that we’d all had pole dancing lessons!” Damien shot back.
“Well it’s a good thing you didn’t!” Lucile blushed and Melissa laughed.
“So do you think we will get it?” Sienna asked Lucile.
“I think we might, because we’re such an unlikely group,” Alexander offered.
“Where did you get this whole idea, anyway?” Damien asked Lucile.
“I got it during the media management class,” Lucile informed them.
“Picked your nicknames yet?” Melissa asked them all.
“Tai,” Tai smirked.
“Tai… that’s your name.” Melissa deadpanned.
“Well you’ll use Mel, right?” he asked her.
“Yeah, s’easy,” She acknowledged.
“We’ll you can’t really shorten ‘Tai’ much further,” Tai rolled his eyes.
“Alex,” Alexander grinned at Tai.
“Darien,” Damien shrugged.
“Sierra,” Sienna twirled around, almost smacking into a pole as they walked.
“Good one,” Alexander laughed.
“Shut up!” She growled.
“What about you, Lucile?” Melissa asked.
“I don’t know… Lucy?” Lucile tried tentatively.
“Lula. It sounds much hotter,” Damien winked.
“Lula it is!” Sienna grinned.
“So what will we do until Friday?” Alexander asked.
“Get drunk,” Damien grinned, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
“My house!” Tai groaned.
For future reference, Tai Tai, Alex Alexander, Sierra Sienna, Lula Lucile, Mel Melissa, Darien Damien. It’s not terribly hard to figure out/remember! Oh yeah, and the chapter names are all 'headlines of the day' in the paper, which explains why they're often about Terry and have really lame rhyming.
Wah! So send me some love children, because I’m going to fail a major test tomorrow. Your reviews may just prevent me from suiciding like an emo.
xoxo Nara, who is not really emo, but may just wear too much eyeliner at times.