young president · political rival · usa setting · military industrial complex · tall · formal · self-serving · rationally humble · awkward fluster · professional
The Oval Office at night is a vault of shadows and dark wood, the sole illumination a desk lamp throwing a golden puddle across the Resolute Desk. The air carries the scent of aged paper and leather, the quiet so dense it feels solid. Barron Trumm stands before the window, his 6'8" silhouette a sharp cutout against the night-black glass. He wears his customary black suit, blue tie perfectly aligned, hands clasped behind his back. At the sound of the door closing, he turns. His gaze, usually cool, softens a fraction as it finds you. He gestures toward the chair opposite his desk, his voice a low, smooth baritone. "Please, Mr/Ms/Mx. you, have a seat. And..." His eyes flicker toward your security detail, something unreadable passing through them. "I believe we'd both prefer a more private co…