How would Terzo react if he found out that his son:
- wanted to change his gender?
We rarely imagine Terzo as a boy’s father, so this is a challenge.
I imagine Terzo as a boy’s father in a completely opposite way from how he is as a girl’s father, so I’m glad you brought this up!
I have this feeling that living under the shadow of such a cumbersome personality as Papa Emeritus III must be very hard for a son. Expectations are high, comparisons are brutal, and admiration can easily turn into envy, or even rejection. Not to mention every time Terzo embarrasses the poor boy with his “funny stories” about him, which he happily tells to friends and girlfriends alike.
I’m sure there will be a point in his son’s life when he starts hating him.
And imagine having to witness all your girlfriends having a crush on your father… 🙄
Well, the first thing I imagine Terzo saying to the boy is, “You? A girlfriend?” Then he smirks, shakes his head lightly, and says proudly, “You really are my son.”
He then proceeds to fill two glasses, placing one in front of his son on the table and keeping the other.
“So what’s this?” the son asks, after smelling the strong scent of alcohol.
“And we have reached that point in life where the man who created you has to pass down wisdom-”
“DAD. Please.” The boy stops him promptly. “I don’t need you to teach me that.”
Terzo looks at him, suspiciously. “Have you already made me proud…?”
And it’s at that point that the son simply stands up and walks away, cheeks red.
He’s the kind of dad who thinks he can act like a friend or a mentor to his son and doesn’t understand how embarrassing and pressuring it feels for the boy.
For some reason, the news of the girlfriend makes him extraordinarily invested in his son’s romance, as if he’s witnessing proof that something he made has turned out right.
He’s well-meaning, intrusive, proud, and completely unaware of how overwhelming he can be.
He gives advice constantly, always unsolicited:
“Never arrive empty-handed on dates.”
“Let her pick the movie.”
“Lying is useless… girls can smell it.”
“She must always come first.”
He even slip a condom into the boy’s jacket pocket one day. Size small. Luckily, the boy found it before the girl did.
He asks questions that are far too personal and that quickly turn into a badly conceived trial.
“So,” Terzo said one afternoon, leaning back in his chair, “does this girl make you happy?”
“Yes,” his son answered carefully, but honestly.
Terzo smiled, satisfied, only to add soon after, his smile fading, “Good. Then do not ruin it.”
It got even worse when the boy invited his girlfriend home to meet him.
“Please,” the boy says to his girl, taking her hand while standing in front of the house door. His anxiety can be cut with a knife. “Anything my father says… anything, do not believe or endorse it.”
From there, the meeting is a rollercoaster that seems aimed at sabotaging the boy, but in truth is just Terzo being Terzo.
Terzo keeps calling the girl by the wrong name. Every time, his son clenches his jaw and corrects him. Terzo nods, apologizes, and says something like, “Those beautiful eyes distract me too much to focus on names,” which successfully flatters the girl and annoys the son, then forgets her name again five minutes later.
He asks the most inappropriate questions like, “So what did you find in my boy?” which may seem a standard, innocent question, if he didn’t add “I swear I’ve tried to see something interesting in him, but I haven’t succeeded so far.”
And when the girlfriend leaves, smiling, polite, clearly fond of the son - and even of the father, despite everything - Terzo pats him on the shoulder with quiet satisfaction.
“She’s cool,” he says. “I like her.”
His son exhales, exhausted. “That was never the concern.”
Terzo frowns, puzzled, obviously missing the point.
The first thing Dad Terzo would ask is, “Did you really need that?”
Terzo is definitely not the type to steal, and not because he respects laws or morals, but because, to him, there is only one way to obtain things: by earning them. And because he despises consumerism.
The only theft he can condone is that of primary goods by people who can’t afford them, or theft committed as a form of protest.
If his son isn’t able to provide a just reason for the theft that fits any of those circumstances, he will face the consequences of his actions.
“…And no, son, a new game for your Xbox is not a primary good, and it’s not a protest. Go put it back in the store and pay for it with your own money, or you won’t have it at all,” he tells him, followed by “Stealing becomes understandable only when need is ignored. Taking what you need to live is survival. Taking what you want to be entertained is laziness-”
But the boy has already left.
Better to bring the game back than listen to one of his talkfests once again.
3. wanted to change his gender?
Although he is a strong believer in the power each individual has over their own choices and bodies, it’s surprising to realize that Terzo doesn’t actually have a clear, practical understanding of how transgender identity works. He remembers Bishop Cracoviensis’ theories about the connection between architecture and the human body, about the Luciferian freedom of shaping one’s body and identity as one sees fit, like a temple built on the ashes of an old regime, but what he has are only philosophical concepts. He had never had to face the practical details in real life until this moment.
The conversation that follows is both easy and curious, full of questions rooted in genuine interest rather than judgment.
“So you feel like a woman,” he asks simply.
His tone comes out more intimidating than he intends. His child shifts in her seat, trying not to back away or stumble over the answer.
“…I’m pretty sure I am a woman.”
“But I thought you had a girlfriend.”
“I do… that isn’t related…”
“…Oh.” Terzo pauses, reflecting. Whether he finds it surprising or merely unusual, she can’t quite tell. “So this makes you a lesbian.”
His daughter looks at him, intrigued and slightly amused. He seems to have grasped the concept, if only in his own way, and without much explanation.
“Well, yes,” she confirms. “That would technically make me a lesbian.” She tries to smirk, but he gives little reaction. “Are you angry?” she asks.
“Why should I be?” He shrugs, unbothered, and that alone comforts her. “Anything that goes against God’s impositions in pursuit of personal fulfillment can only bring good. Have you lived under my roof for the past fifteen years?”
“And besides,” he adds, “I really can’t blame you. Who doesn’t like women?”
He will get it wrong sometimes, he will have to be corrected and adjust, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand. Whatever the shape, his child is just his child.
