Hello. I know most of you (I hope) are looking forward to me getting back to Light of Alola. But this is an idea that's been bouncing around in my head for a while. Lately, I've been revisiting shows from my childhood, and for some reason, Totally Spies! came to mind.
Anyway, at the risk of copying other ideas from this site, I've decided to take a risk and do a rewrite of the series from the POV of my OC who will serve as a fourth spy in the group and the only boy.
I have yet to develop him fully, but I've decided to come up with a bio at the start of the first chapter
Name: Sean Warren.
Age: 15 at start of series. 18 at end.
Relatives: Rachel Warren (mother)
Info: From an outsider's perspective, Sean is an average teenage boy living in L.A. Unbeknownst to all but a few, he is an agent of W.O.O.H.P (World Organization of Human Protection).
A W.O.O.H.P agent since the age of 12, Sean's initial assignment was training new recruits. But when three girls known as Sam, Alex, and Clover join, Jerry assigns him to their team after their training is completed.
Sean along with Sam serves as the voice of reason within the group. He is a compassionate young man but like his fellow spies has a bit of a vain streak. Nonetheless, he becomes fast friends with all three girls. Although, he frequently gets into disagreements with Clover.
Well, that's it for now. I'm starting with the movie first with a few adjustments to make it match up with the first few seasons.
Read and review!
Chapter One
Sean Warren: Undercover
Hollywood Bowl- 9:45 PM
One of the most well-known landmarks of the city since its completion in 1922, the Hollywood Bowl had attracted numerous music lovers from all over, from California or otherwise.
Tonight, however, it had seemed as if it had truly been made for this event.
Over 17,000 people, mostly teenagers, and in particular, teenage girls, were cheering at a frequency that, to many who hadn't been to such an event, would break the sound barrier.
"I love you, Rob!" was one of the few cheers that was heard loud and clear over the endless symphony of raised human voices.
Backstage, everything was quite the opposite. Even the loudest cheers were muffled from below the stage floor.
A band was getting ready to perform, a platform fully prepared to raise up to lift the young singer admiring himself in the mirror onto the stage to perform in front of a vast sea of cheering fans.
If one were to compare the young man's current face with that of the poster beside the mirror, you'd almost think they were two different people.
In any case, Rob Heartthrob was too lost in the moment to care much about anything else.
He gazed admirably at his new cleft chin, platinum bang that frequently shifted positions, and cheek mole under his left eye.
After a while, he walked off... only to zip back in front of the mirror.
"Oh, hello there, handsome!" he said to his own reflection, blowing a kiss at it. "I hope my fans love your new look as much as I do."
At that moment, however, something happened that would have struck most people as, well, weird.
Rob's mole blinked blue twice. His eyes went blank, then starry.
As if in a trance, he began to walk towards the stage exit.
"Hi, Rob!" a stagehand greeted. But the singer did not acknowledge and just kept going.
"Hey!" a woman said. But again, no response, to her utter confusion.
Back onstage, the cheering was reaching its fever pitch.
A man emerged from the shadows, wearing an outfit that evoked the U.S flag.
"Okay, everyone," he announced into a microphone. "Put your hands together and get ready to make some noise for Rob Heartthrob!"
As if it were possible, the cheering grew louder than before.
"We want Rob! We want Rob!" the crowd chanted.
The platform from below the stage, shaped like an unopened flower lifted itself onto the stage through a trap door. Then like the flower it resembled, it opened, revealing two guitarists, and a drummer in the back. The only other noticeable feature on the flower was a bright, yellow sphere that undoubtedly contained the singing sensation.
As the band warmed up, the crowd went wild.
The sphere was lifted into the air and began to open. Smoke billowing out, fans knew that when it cleared it would reveal the person they had all come to see.
But excitement turned to confusion and then disappointment, as it soon became clear that Rob was not where he was supposed to be.
As shocked spectators speculated his whereabouts and enraged fans demanded their money back, no one knew that Rob was closer than they thought.
No one knew that, in his daze, Rob had walked out into the backstage parking lot where a shaft of blue light hovered over him.
Neither did anyone see him look up at the sky, saying, "Fabulous," in a dream like tone, and being lifted up off the ground like someone from an old sci-fi movie.
While fans were upset, authorities were mostly baffled that such a famous person could disappear without a trace.
A Los Angeles Neighborhood- 6:59 AM
The very next morning, a 15-year-old boy was sleeping the day away. But that wouldn't last long.
The Alarm clock next to his bed played a sharp tone insisting that he awaken.
Sleepily hitting the snooze button, he told himself he would sleep for five more minutes.
But of course, those minutes were up, and the boy finally decided to comply with his clock's demands.
Stretching his long, slender arms, he opened the curtain to his comfortable, if sparsely decorated room.
Looking out at the city streets, he could see what most people in L.A preferred to ignore.
Families sleeping near dumpsters, a man pushing a shopping cart carrying his few belongings, a woman being dragged into an alleyway by two black-clothed men with obvious intentions.
"Another day in The City of Angels," he said under his breath, referring to the city's old and ironic nickname.
"Yeah, right," he added, with a hint of disdain.
Making his way to a mirror, he smoothed his dirty-blonde hair out of his deep blue eyes.
After showering, brushing his teeth, and picking out an outfit that he felt complemented his fair skin tone, he went into his apartment's kitchen where he found a single muffin next to a note with smooth, cursive handwriting and an envelope.
He already knew the contents of the envelope and what the note would say.
But all the same, he read it.
Sean, I'm working late tonight.
Left you some money for dinner and back-to-school shopping.
Be back at 11:00
Mom
He put the note down, smiling but upset at the mention of school.
For the longest time, people only ever barely regarded him and it was even more obvious at Beverly Hills High School.
From being stuffed into his locker first day of freshman year to being shunned by certain clubs for being from a low-income family, Sean never really liked school all that much.
Still, he was determined that this year would be different.
Opening the envelope, counting what little money was in it, he decided it would be enough. Whatever he couldn't afford, he would charge to his mom's credit card.
She was still behind on the payments. What more damage could a little debt do?
Inhaling as if he would never breathe again, Sean opened the door and began to make his way to the nearest bus stop.
Walking back up to the stairs of his apartment, Sean considered the day he had. It was ordinary, for the most part, but the strangest thing had happened.
With what he did in secret, he had seen stranger, but this was definitely a contender.
After all, it's not every day you see three teenage girls balance themselves on a giant sushi roll like a log before completely reducing it to a shower of rice and pieces of seaweed.
It had come from out of nowhere, and aside from destroying a display at the pet shop, no one was seriously hurt. Or so he had heard.
Putting his bags down beside the couch, Sean collapsed into the center seat, grabbing the TV remote.
Switching the square box on, he found that the scene with the giant sushi roll had been replaying behind a woman sitting at a news desk.
"...although authorities have determined no one was injured, it is estimated that this incident has cost potentially thousands of dollars in damages. In other news, last night, teen singing sensation Rob Heartthrob disappeared while preparing for a concert a the Hollywood Bowl. The singers disappearance is only the latest in what investigators have speculated is either a mass kidnapping or one of the largest publicity stunts Los Angeles history. Though Rob's manager denied any involvement in his disappearance..."
"Huh, and I thought that sushi roll incident was weird," he commented.
As he said those words, the cushion retracted into the back of the couch like a drawer being pushed back in its rightful place.
Before he could process what had happened, Sean found himself sliding down a long metallic chute.
Though he couldn't stop himself from screaming, he'd taken this ride before. Many, many times.
And maybe one day, he'd actually get to do something else.
His fall was broken by a circular, fuchsia cushion and he found himself sitting in front of a desk in a blueish white room with a desk at the opposite end and a screen behind the chair.
The chair swerved around, revealing a balding older man in a dark suit.
"So sorry to disturb your afternoon, Sean," he said, in a smooth British accent.
Sean groaned in frustration. "Really, Jerry? You couldn't have given me a ten-second warning?"
The man, or Jerry, as he was apparently called, cleared his throat.
"Well, I suppose I could, but it's the only joy I have in this job."
He typed something into his keyboard.
"Tad and I have scouted three potential new recruits. After assessing their abilities and testing their survival skills, we've determined that they have shown great promise."
Three images appeared on the screen. They were all of girls close to his age.
"Their names are Alexandra Vasquez, Samantha Simpson, and Clover Ewing."
"Them?" Sean asked, skeptical.
"Yes. They're your next assignment, if they should accept the job, that is."
He looked closer at the girls.
"With all due respect, they don't seem like the type," he said.
"Well, neither did you. And you were top of the class."
Sean smiled but then frowned.
"And yet, I'm still here, putting new agents through the wringer, instead of out in the field."
Jerry didn't give any indication of hearing that.
"Anyway, your assignment is to get them into a position where I can bring them here. I've already selected your school as the perfect place for their introduction to W.O.O.H.P. All you have to do is get them stand close to this locker."
He handed Sean a piece of paper with the locker number, 318, written on it.
"But this is next to my locker. They're not gonna want to follow me around."
Jerry smiled, mischievously. "I don't think you'll have a problem with that. You've volunteered to show them around the school."
"I have?" Sean asked.
Jerry nodded.
"Your principal received an e-mail saying you would love to give new students a tour of the school."
"Man," Sean said, impressed. "You work fast."
A sudden beeping cut the conversation short. Jerry looked at his watch.
"Speaking of fast, I have to go. I have haircut scheduled at 2:00 and I'm already late. I'll send you home, first."
A chute lowered from the ceiling, sucking Sean up through it, and back to his living room couch.
Of course, Jerry called him to train new agents.
Not that he complained. He took it in stride, for all the respect new recruits gave him.
But he still longed for something more.
After all, what was the use of working for a spy organization if you didn't do any actual spying?