President Elect [EX]

[Chrinthania]

13 May 2020, 05:50 UTC -8
Los Angeles, Capital District

In the days of old when great men and even greater women were forming a nation, they dreamed of a day when their labor would give birth to something great; a nation conceived in liberty and clothed in justice. A nation where people advanced not because of their god, the color of their skin, the money in their wallet, or the people they knew, but through the grit of hard work, determination, and skill. A nation where any kid favored by fate to count himself or herself lucky to be a citizen could one day walk across the threshold of the Presidential Mansion waving to an adoring public which trusted him or her with the sobering reality of the immense power of a great office. Learned men and women, those who achieved greatness in life, the cream of the crop of society with passions political came and went and the people decided among the intelligent and educated, the driven, the passionate. Often, these were white-haired men, those whose lives had been long lived for with age comes wisdom, or so that was the belief. While time has proven this adage to be only partially true, the hard work and determination of those Founding Parents of the late 18th century had mostly been realized. As the 13th of May in the 2020th year of the Common Era barely came into existence, one such man celebrated the victory which 43 others had throughout history achieved: election to the presidency.

Taylor Alex Ellison (Alex is not short for Alexander), the 35-year old congressman from California’s 10th district was, by all accounts, someone who, in any other country, would have been the long-shot candidate. A man without a marriage, but a line of public relationships that have dotted tabloids in supermarket shelves for the last 15 years. A man whose fortunes and fame were not made in a political arena, but in the sports arena. As if on a whim, he retired from professional surfing and opted to run for a special election in Huntington Beach for the seat of the late Richard W. Brandon. In Huntington Beach, Ellison was a household name, someone who by all account could easily win any election in the town hands down. It’s younger, more beach-oriented population almost dictated this fact. Yet the former waverider sought to conquer the seat, not out of his own desire, but out of a political play by the Social Democratic Party. A seat which, under normal circumstances, would be a constant win for this the most powerful of Chrinthani political parties. Redistricting caused part of the district to be populated by a slightly more conservative faction of the population. Not out of a result of gerrymandering, but a computer program which sought to create more competitive districts, if those were even possible in California, yet alone the nation itself.

Ellison, having easily handed his party’s challengers a defeat in the primary squared off against the only thing Southern California had to a superstar Conservative, Martin Riley. Political talking head from Conservative Radio and Television, Riley began peddling conspiracy theories in the early aughts in order to build for himself a dedicated listener base. The campaign was not fought on the merits of the candidates alone, Riley quickly colored the tone of the campaign. It was a war of attrition. Skeletons were ripped out of closets. Dirty laundry being aired would’ve seemed like a massive fighter squadron darkening the skies. In the end, both candidates bled. Yet only Ellison survived. Barely.

Three years on, and the dirty congressional election fading from the hearts and minds of the people, Ellison was tapped to run for president. Not because anyone, including the party, thought he stood a chance to win, but the party bosses wanted to bring his name more recognition so he could set his sights on the prize he wanted most of all: Governor of California. As the primary challengers were retired one by one, an amazing event transpired. A coalescing of a faction behind the young upstart with the frivolous past. It didn’t hurt that he had a face made for television and a body to back it up. As his numbers rose in the polls, he became the candidate to beat. The bloody wounds of the previous election gave him the courage to face his rivals head on. There was nearly nothing new left to learn about Taylor. It was on this he based his campaign. A campaign of openness. As he often said, “You know the worst about me, you know my secrets, what have I left to hide? This cannot be said about my opponents.” And it resonated. And in the General election held just yesterday, he crushed the Conservative Challenger, Lindsey North, with 71% of the national vote.

Perhaps better the devil they knew than the devil they didn’t.

And so it was that as the dawn broke on the morning of the 13th of May, the nation’s next Commander-in-Chief, representative of all the people, would awaken to begin his new, unexpected life.

“Are you fucking kidding me, dude,” Taylor said as his eyes snapped open, barely able to handle the hint of light peaking from behind the almost blackout curtains in the hotel suite. As he began to take stock of his current state, he felt something move.

He turned to his right and peaking out from under the gray blanket were hints of blonde hair and one female hand. And then from his left, a cough. This time the same view, but of a brunette.

“Not again,” he said as he slowly slinked his way out from under the blanket. He proceeded down the bed towards the foot, careful to attempt to avoid jostling the two women in his bed. He assumed he was in a California King, but the sound of his body thudding as it hit the floor informed him it wasn’t quite as big of a bed as expected.

Something else that should have been expected, but went unrealized in his mostly-still-drunken stupor was that he was without a stitch on his body. He crawled on his hands and knees across the surprisingly plush carpet towards the bathroom. In doing so, it became fairly obvious that the celebration of his victory that ended just a few hours before was fierce. Cans and bottles of beer, wine, and even some champagne littered the floor like the dorm of a fratboy who tried to beat a world record. Once firmly entrenched within the doorway, he quickly dashed into the bathroom and used the toilet to pull himself up. He turned towards the mirror and gave himself a look over. No hickies. This was good. The attempt to turn towards the shower was not a success as the speed in which it occurred caused his brain to spin and in a physical demonstration of the phrase, went ass over elbow into the tub with a crash so loud, he was afraid that not only would the two women would wake up, but that someone might assume he was being burgled.

He paused, not even attempting to breath, as he listened intently. He heard a slight murmur, but then the room fell back to silence. He reached over and turned on the tub faucet and slowly rose to his feet. Soon he was showered and feeling just about as bad as he did before, but at least he smelled clean.

He wrapped himself in a towel to give himself the air of decency, though anyone who saw the room would see he had a lot of air, but very little decency. He cautiously walked into the suite’s bedroom and began the time-honored tradition of looking for the clothes from the night before. After a careful game of hide and seek, mostly seeking, he found his shirt and underwear, and he considered that an amazing victory under his current circumstance. Once the outfit was completed, he once more looked like a respectable politician and less like an aging party boy throwing caution to the wind trying to regain his youth. Not that 35 was old.

At that moment, the bedroom door opened and his Chief of Staff, Matthew Wentworth, swept into the room and paused at the view. His mouth agape, he turned towards Taylor. Then back towards the room. And then the bed. And then back towards Taylor who simply shrugged like this was a normal morning.

“I can’t help it,” Taylor said.

“You need to help it,” Matthew said. “You know when you're in the Office, you can’t do this. What will the media think?”

“That I am true to form?” he said with a smile.

Matthew simply raised an eyebrow. “You, out of here. You’ve got an interview with CBC at 10 and then we need to get your transition team in place.”

Taylor sighed, “How about this shit, dude. Who would’ve thought I’d ever be president?”

“Trust me,” Matthew said, “No one in their right mind. Still, it was one hell of a fucking campaign.”

[Chrinthania]

Vice-President-elect is perhaps the most peculiar of positions in the Federal Republic of Chrinthania. In reality, a Vice-President has very little power and his main job was to be someone to fill in for the President if, for some unfortunate reason, the president was ever incapacitated, died in office, or was removed. Per Constitutional provision, the Vice-President was also President of the Senate and his job was the preside over the Senate, maintain the order of the Senate, and to break ties if they should arise. Another job the Vice-President had was to preside over impeachment trials of Federal officials save for the President himself. Outside of these roles, he was nothing else but a title holder. He could, as the president pleased, be tasked with representing Chrinthania is a diplomatic capacity, to head up presidential organizations, to lead efforts in disaster recovery, or any other "odd job" the president saw fit to pass his way. The more shrewd political operative who found his or her way into this role could often use it as a springboard to the presidency itself. Yet, in the period between the election and the inauguration into the role of Vice-President, he was nothing more than an advisor.

Prior to accepting the nomination of the party, the party's nominee choose a running mate. This exclusive group of people were well vetted to ensure that there were no skeletons in any closets that could sink the party's ticked come the election. In this election, the normal group of individuals had their names tossed around by the talking heads in the media. Some believed that 2-term California Governor Scott Lawson would be a natural fit with the young and energetic Taylor Ellison. It was believed these two men were birds of feather with both having athletic background, relative youth for their offices, and similar platforms. Others believed that a young man like Ellison would want to balance out the ticket by picking the venerable Senator Joseph Gomez of Baja California. 35 years serving his state in the Senate had given the 69-year old Senator true insider knowledge of the inner workings of the Federal government and through his vast political and economic connections, could easily fill out the laundry list of cabinet positions without Ellison ever having to lift a finger or interview a single one. Some believed the best choice was the Mayor of Houston, Rhonda Dominguez. The 53-year old mayor made a name for herself calling out the current administration for its failures in addressing the ever-increasing problem of voter suppression by factions of the right wing. She singlehandedly ordered the opening of three times as many polling places for election day as the Federal government had allotted money for, with many on the right calling her actions a "grievous attempt to sway the election" in a city that hadn't voted for a conservative candidate since the 1970s. Other various and sundry senators and governors of former ambassadors names were tossed into the mix, but ultimately it came down to one person's decision: Taylor Ellison.

During the campaign as Ellison became the clear front runner, it became the most pressing matter for the candidate. In spite of the choices that would have instantly given the ticket a solid anchor, Taylor Ellison stepped out on his own and picked Governor Seth Drake of the State of Colorado, a man who had only been in his position for a little over a year at the time of his nomination. A man whose only political experience prior to the governorship was that of a city councilman in Colorado Springs. Like Ellison, he was a sporting man, but Gov. Drake was an outdoorsman. A man who climbed rocks, base jumped, hiked, mountain biked, and led the kind of mountain life that few people could ever hope to experience. He, like Ellison was young, though he still was older than Ellison by a few years. The choice of Drake was shocking at first. Colorado was not a state that held itself as a bastion of conservative ideas where picking its progressive governor would help sway a few extra votes, nor was it a state where any senator or congressman needed the power of a strong top-of-the-ticket candidate to win their reelections. Yet there was a reason Ellison opted to choose Drake.

When Chrinthania voted for Ellison, they knew who they were getting. A party boy who'd lived anything but a conventional life. So rather than find just any stuffy old politician to pick as his running mate, Ellison opted to choose the Colorado Governor for one very important reason: Seth Drake was as clean-cut, boy-next-door, salt-of-the-Earth as any Chrinthani. A 20-year veteran of the Chrinthani Navy who retired a few years ago to run for city council, then propelled himself to Denver and the governor's mansion on a platform of "duty, honesty, and integrity." Drake never drank, never tried drugs, and he never slept around. He married his high-school sweetheart, Bethany, the day after they graduated, which was exactly one day before he left for basic training in San Diego. They had 5 kids: 4 boys and 1 girl. The eldest child, Ethan, had just turned 18 and opted to enlist in the navy himself during the campaign. In fact, when the talking heads learned the news that Gov. Drake was chosen, few could argue that it balanced out the ticket in terms of personalities and personas. The only thing it didn't balance out was experience.

And so secure in his choice, Taylor and Seth now look forward to the future as they would steer the country for the next four years. The charismatic, camera-savvy, and easy-on-the-eyes Ellison and the more reserved, deliberate, military man Drake would make a stark contrast together on the same stage. And it was hoped for, at least, that the experience Drake brought from his years in the navy would help the young Ellison whose only experience with the military was sleeping around with a few army nurses during a trip to Hawaii.