#it’s like not that deep I don’t need to know anything beyond I’m binary male and androgynous but. I like genderfluid too

[binders-and-beanies]

Yes I’m binary yes I’m genderfluid we exist

[kuromichad]

different subject that’s heavy on my mind rn but since i’m already being harsh let’s get into it. i wish it wasn’t automatically presumed to be some kind of truscum attitude when someone tries to express that different parts of The Trans Community have like, different needs and different risk levels and different experiences and that we have the ability to talk over each other, harm each other, etc... like when i put it that way people generally are like ‘of course that’s true!’ but is it ever really understood in practice? a number of people (not a large enough number, but still) are able to loosely understand ‘you can be trans and transphobic’ when it’s applied to the matter of transmisogyny but when a trans person tries to express distrust of or frustration with afab nb people due to how common it is that that category of person will, despite being trans/nb, espouse bioessentialist, anti-medical-transition, radfem-adjacent if not outright cryptoterf rhetoric, suddenly ‘trans people can be transphobic’ gets applied to... the person with a complaint about transphobia. 

because he’s clearly an evil truscum man! regardless of if the person making the complaint is a trans man or trans woman, oops, lol. he’s a bad person who is attacking and invalidating and totally hatecriming the heckin’ valid, equally at-risk transgender identity of “an afab woman who isn’t a woman except when she pointedly categorizes themself as a woman because being afab makes them a woman who is ‘politically aligned’ with women but she’s not an icky unwoke cis woman because they don’t like being forced into womanhood although Really When You Think About It 🤔 all women are dysphoric because obviously the pathologized medical diagnosis of gender dysphoria in transgender people is something that equally applies to cis women just default existing under patriarchy 🤔, and no, equating these things totally does not imply anything reductive about or add a bizarre moral dimension to the idea of being transgender, whaaaaat, this woman who isn’t a woman doesn’t think there’s anything immoral or cowardly or misogynist or delusional about being transgender, they would never say that because THEY’RE transgender, except when she feels it’s important (constantly) to make clear that she’s Still A Woman Deep Down Inherently Despite Not Identifying As One, and none of this ever has any effect on how they treat the concept, socially and politically, of people who actually wholly identify with (and possibly medically transition to) a gender different from the one they were assigned at birth, be it ‘the opposite gender’ or abstaining from binary gender altogether or ‘politically aligning’ with the ‘opposite’ gender from their asab. never ever!”

and like maybe that sounds like a completely absurd and hateful strawman to you! but in that case you’re either like, lucky, or optimistic, or ignorant. i’m literally not looking at random nb people and declaring that in My Truscum Opinion they’re ‘really a woman’ just because they’re not medically transitioning or meeting some arbitrary standard of mine. i am looking at self-identified afab nb people, who most often use she/they because, y’know, words mean things, especially pronouns, so people who are willingly ‘aligned with womanhood’ typically intentionally use she/her (sorry that i guess that’s another truscum take now!!! that pronouns mean things!!! the bigender transmasc who deliberately uses exclusively he/him wants it to invoke a perception he’s comfortable with!), who actively say the things listed above (in a non-sarcastic manner). 

like, the line between a person who says “i don’t claim to really not be my asab because i know no one would ever perceive me as anything else” because theyve internalized a defeatist attitude due to societal transphobia, and a person who says that because they... genuinely believe it’s impossible/ridiculous/an imposition to truly be transgender (in the traditional trans sense, beyond a vague nb disidentification with gender) and are actively contributing to the former person’s self loathing... is hard to define from a distance! i think plenty of people who are, in a sense, ‘tentative’ or like ‘playing close to home’ so to speak in their identity are ‘genuinely trans’ (whatever that may mean) and just going through a process. they might arrive at a different identity or might just eventually stop saying/believing defeatist stuff, who knows. but there are enough people saying it for the latter reason, or at least not caring if they sound that way, that it’s like, dangerous. it is actively incredibly harmful to other trans people. and it’s fucking ridiculous that it’s so difficult to criticize because you’ll always get the defense of “umm but i’m literally trans” and/or “well i’m just talking about ME, this doesn’t apply to other trans people” when it’s an attitude that very clearly seeps into their politics and the way they discuss gender.

because it’s just incredibly common for afab nb people (most typically those that go by she/they! since i’m aware that uh, i am also afab nb, but we clearly are extremely different, so that’s the best categorization i’ve got) to discuss gender in moralized terms, with the excuse of patriarchy/misogyny existing, which of course adds another difficult dimension to trying to criticize this because it gets the response of “don’t act like misandry is real” (it’s not, but being a dick still is) and “boohoo, let women complain about their oppressors” (this goes beyond ‘complaining’). a deliberate revocation of empathy/sympathy/compassion from men and projection of inherently malicious/brutish/cruel intent onto men (not solely in the justified generalizations ‘men suck/are dangerous’, but in specific interactions too) underpin a whole fucking lot of popular posts/discussions online, whether they’re political or casual/social, and it absolutely influences how people conceptualize and feel about transness. 

because ‘maleness is evil’ is still shitty politics even when you’ve slightly reframed it from the terf ‘trans women are evil because they’re Really Men and can never escape being horrific soulless brutes just as women can never escape being fragile morally superior flowers’ to the tumblr shethey “trans women who are out to me/unclockable are tolerable i guess because they’re women and women are good; anyone i personally presume to be a cis man, though, is still automatically evil, and saying trans men are Just As Bad is progressive of me, and it’s totally unrelated and apolitical that i think we should expand the concept of afab lesbianism so broadly that you can now be basically indistinguishable from trans men on literally every single level except for a declaration of ‘but i would never claim to be a man because i’m secure in the Innate Womanhood of the body i was born into, even as i medically alter that body because it causes me great gendered discomfort.’ none of this at all indicates that i feel there’s an immense moral/political gap between being an afab nb lesbian vs a straight trans man! it says nothing at all about my concept of ‘maleness’ and there’s no way this rhetoric bleeds into my perception of trans women and no way loudly talking about all this could keep trans people around me self-loathing and closeted, because i’m Literally Trans and Not A Terf!”

again, if that sounds like a hateful strawman, sorry but it’s not. i guess i’m supposed to be like ‘all of the many people ive seen saying these shitty things is an evil outlier who Doesn’t Count, and it’s not fair to the broad identity of afab shethey to not believe that every person who doesn’t outright say terfy enough things is a perfectly earnest valid accepting trans person who’s beyond criticism’ but like. this cannot be about broad validation. this can’t be about discarding all the bad apples as not really part of the group. we can’t be walking on eggshells to coddle what are essentially, in the end, Cis Feelings, because in the best cases this kind of rhetoric comes from naive people who are early and uncertain in their gender journey or whatever and are in the process of unraveling internalized transphobia, and in the easily observable worst cases these people are very literally redefining shit so that ‘actually all afab women are trans, spiritually, all afabs have dysphoria, we are all Equally oppressed by Males uh i mean cis men <3’ because, let’s be honest, they know that the moment they call themselves trans they get to say whatever they want about gender no matter how harmful it is to the rest of us. and those ideas spread like wildfire through the afab shethey “woman that’s not a woman” community that frankly greatly outnumbers other types of trans people online, because many of those people just do not have the experiences that lead you to really understand this shit and have to push back against concepts of gender that actively harm you as a trans person.

like that’s all i want to be able to say, is Things Are Different For Different Groups. and a willful ignorance of these differences leads to bad rhetoric controlling the overall discourse which gets people hurt. and even when concepts arise from it that seem positive and helpful and inclusive, in practice or in origin those ideas can still be upholding shit that gets other people hurt. like, i don’t doubt that many people are very straightforwardly happy and comfortable with an identity like ‘afab nb lesbian on testosterone’ and it would be ridiculous and hypocritical for me, ‘afab nb who wants to pass as a guy so he can comfortably wear skirts again,’ to act like that’s something that can’t or shouldn’t exist. it’s not about the identity itself, it’s about the politics that are popular within its community, and how the use of identities as moral labels with like, fucking pokemon type interactions for oppression effectiveness which directly informs the moral correctness of your every opinion and your very existence, is a shitty practice that gets people hurt and leads us to revoke empathy from each other.

like. sorry this is all over the place and long and probably still sounds evil because i haven’t thought through and disclaimered every single statement. but i’m like exhausted from living with this self-conscious guilt that maybe i’ve turned into a horrible evil truscum misogynist etc etc due to feeling upset by this seemingly inescapable approach to gender in lgbt/online circles that like, actively harms me, because when i vent with my friends all the stuff i’ve tried to explain here gets condensed down to referencing ‘she/theys’ as a category and that feels mean and generalizing and i genuinely dislike generalizations but the dread i feel about that category gets proven right way too often. it’s just like. this is not truscum this is not misgendering this is not misogyny. this is not about me decreeing that all transmascs have to be manly enough or dysphoric enough and all nbs have to be neatly agender and androgynous or something, i’m especially not saying that nb gender isn’t real lmao or even that it’s automatically wrong to partially identify with your asab; this is not me saying you can only medically transition for specific traditional reasons or that you don’t get a say on anything if you aren’t medically transitioning for whatever reason, now or ever. i just. want to be allowed to be frank about how... when there’s different experiences in a community we should like. acknowledge those differences and be willing to say that sometimes people don’t know what they’re talking about or that what they’re saying is harmful. without the primary concern being whether people will feel invalidated by being told so. because these are like, real issues, that are more important than politely including everyone, because that method is just getting vulnerable people drowned out constantly.

[tundrainafrica]

hi, maybe you're tired about this kind of convie regarding hange's gender but i really need your opinion. is it that wrong if i consider hange as a she? istg i'm not anythingphobic, i'm just still stuck with female hange in anime. i stan aot since 2013 and felt just fine to open up about my preference in hange's gender but lately, considering hange as a she is like the most sinful thing in the whole planet and even being attacked and i don't know what to feel about it. 😩

Thank you for the ask anon! 

Lmao, I am tired of this discourse but I’ve kinda accepted that it’s never gonna end really so I’m still happy to give you my opinion about this again. 

I have written about it here.

Before I go into this long ramble again I’d like to clarify some terms which tend to pepper the discourse of gender, sexuality etc etc etc. 

Biological Sex: What genitalia where you born with? Either born male, female or with both genitalia. 

Gender: What do you identify as? CIS, Trans, Nonbinary etc.

Sexuality: Who are you attracted to? Homosexual, Heterosexual, Bisexual, Asexual, Pansexual etc. 

Gender roles: Where do you fall on the gradient? Feminine, Masculine etc. 

And the point of this is, the discourse on gender is soooo complicated. Like very complicated because Hange being interpreted as NB to some people only covers the question of gender. Like these do not cover every other facet of the gender sexuality discourse. 

Because everything up there is ‘mutually exclusive’ to a degree because everyone is so complex. Like you can take a random option in each of those, fit it together in our heads and you would still come up with a realistic person. Because that is how complex human beings are. I have friends who decided to get a boyfriend, realized they were trans, transitioned to male but had both boyfriends and girlfriends. I have a butch lesbian friend who dated a few guys then decided to date girls then decided to transition. You have me who literally tried everything on the sexuality spectrum, crushed on a few girls in high school, crushed on a few more girls in college, thought I was asexual for a while, fell in love with a guy and realized I love dick. 

You can actually have a biological male who identifies as nonbinary but is bisexual  but has feminine tendencies. 

And that’s why even I find it so confusing to address the issue of non binary Hange vs female Hange. Because they are not even in the same bracket. Like we can have a non binary female feminine bisexual Hange all at the same time if you think about it. 

If you have read all my fics and all of my meta about Hange, you would see that I refer to her as a ‘she,’ but at the same time, I do not portray Hange as overly feminine. I headcanon that Hange has tried dating women and I also head canon that Hange has female genitalia (yo, I write preggo Hange fics). She actually falls somewhere in the middle. And what makes the gender part so hard to consider is because usually whether someone decides to identify as CIS, NB or Trans is up to the person. 

And there are just so many other hcs I want to tackle as a fanfiction writer and as a Hange stan beyond her gender and that’s why I don’t really headcanon the whole discovery part because even as a kid, I have never been so particular about my gender. I know I’m a biologically a woman, I have feminine and masculine tendencies. I have loved both men and women. but gender just seemed like just a decision which I just didn’t want to think too hard about.

I mean where I live, my first language doesn’t have gender pronouns so I can avoid the whole discourse altogether by just using Tagalog. I’m the type of person who will just have this person think I’m a man all the way until they meet me because I just wanna get things done and I feel no need to correct people. My first crushes were all women, despite my being a woman and the first people I have ever loved were women and I didn’t want to decide whether I was bisexual, heterosexual, homosexual etc. yet because even teenage me just found it way too complex and too final and just went around saying I liked this girl or I liked this guy and generally because I’m that type of person, I don’t spend a lot of my time thinking about gender even in a fandom space unless somebody asks.   

And does it make me homophobic/LGBT-phobic etc etc for deciding to use ‘she’ and deciding to tackle questions about Hange beyond her gender? No. Like this conclusion is inherently flawed. I was hella gay for a huge point in my life. 99% of my crushes were women. Then there was this period where I didn’t enjoy romance The only guy irl I have ever crushed on is my current boyfriend. But even when I explored my own gender, sexuality, it was always an ‘in the back of my mind’ thing. I didn’t have huge personal metas about what exactly my gender was or where exactly I fall or what pronouns I prefer.

And nobody is obliged to look so deep into this discourse. The important thing is in real life, we respect people’s pronouns, we respect the names they want to go by and we respect people’s preferences (as long as they aren’t dangerously criminal.)

And the thing is, this isn’t even real life. This is a fandom space. And in a fandom space, everyone is literally interpreting characters however they want. We have people literally pairing off Levi with both men and women and technically we’re assuming Levi’s gender, sexuality etc. Sure it might diverge from canon but does that make our headcanon any less than the others? Like Levi’s sexuality has never been confirmed and technically we’re all just assuming what kind of person Levi would have wanted to fuck right? Like every yaoi pairing, every ship is just fans assuming someones gender, assuming someone’s sexuality. 

And sure people could argue, ‘Yams’ didn’t confirm her gender. But Yam’s didn’t confirm anyone’s sexuality either but here we are pairing Mikasa off with Annie then pairing Mikasa off with Eren. Like same energy with ships, are there ships which are inherently superior to others? And technically, I could headcanon Levi as a woman if I wanted to and no one could stop me. I mean sure let’s celebrate that some of our headcanon and preferences have been acknowledged but what battle are we trying to win here really. 

To answer your question, it is not wrong. Having any opinion and having whatever headcanon you have about any fandom in this space is not wrong.

Sure, Hange is a comfort character to many people for various reasons. Hange is a comfort character for me but Hange is not any single person’s comfort character. Hange is a gift to us by Yams to interpret and play with however we want. Hell, every other character we’ve ever grown to love was a gift to all of us by the author. And we can choose to hc them however we want. That is the magic of fandoms.

If I wanted to, I could make some eruri and ereri mpreg fics for the kicks, I could interpret Levi as every single gender, sexuality on the spectrum and it would be just as valid. I mean I won’t because I don’t jive with those headcanons or those types of ships but I would respect people who have those types of preferences.

This space is free for everyone. We can choose what we want to consume and we can choose how we want to interpret characters. 

The only responsibility we have as fans is to use the right warnings when we post shit and to respect everybody else’s preferences. 

What I would consider ‘sinful’ is just dropping some unnecessary hate into a place which is supposed to be our safe space or pushing an agenda or an opinion and being hateful about it in the process. Like sure, spread your agenda, spread your opinions and your headcanons but please be nice about it.

We’re all just sad people trying to survive in this crapsack world.

[allegedlyauser]

thoughts on loki episode 4

I’m not usually one to share thoughts on episodes of a show but this last episode was weird to say the least and I feel like I need to talk a bit about the fundamental problems I found with it. 

I have a lot of things to say and don’t really know where to start so I’ll just start by saying that I loved the show so far, esspecially the episode before this one. Episode 3 for me really gave us depth in both Loki’s and Sylvie’s characters, I depth I personally didn’t think we were going to get at all. I want to focus esspecially on Loki confirming that he isn’t straight during the episode, which in my opinion was executed exactly the way I wanted. The show doesn’t seem like it’s going to focus on it much further, so I honestly doubt that we will see anything happen on screen between Loki and anyone who isn’t female, but I’m glad they acknowledged it. I feel like most of the time people just ask for sexualities and identities to be acknowledged and to be treated like what they are: a part of the character and who they are. Loki confirming that he had been with ‘a bit of both’ wasn’t weird nor out of place, it was a normal response in a conversation, and I feel like that it’s a perfect example of how to give representation even if the story isn’t necesarilly about love or sexuallity or identity. And since for me this show is about Loki, who he is and who he could become, it was amazing to see that they respected the character and touched all the points they did. 

That being said however, I feel like they took several steps back from the steps forward they had taken on episode 3. And what happened on episode 4 and the problems it brings with it go far beyond any ship or headcanon I may or may not have on this show.

Starting with Sylvie, I have to say I wasn’t really feeling her at first. She was a weird combination between Lady Loki and the Enchatress which I didn’t really understand and wasn’t what I wanted when I said I would love for Lady Loki to appear on the show. However, I came to actually respect the character and how it was portrayed. In episode 3 we could see that Sylvie actually was a well rounded character which didn’t fall in a lot of the categories or cliches female characters are usually held upon, esspecially in superhero movies. I didn’t feel like she was strong because she was held to the standards of a man or because she acted like one. She wasn’t there to be pretty, but she also held a glimpse of femininity which wasn’t seen as a flaw. Overall I appreciated that she had a story of her own, and that she is strong while still being a realistic woman, and not one that is either completly unrealistic and seen through the male gaze or a woman who has to act and be like a man to be considered strong. I liked that we actually got to see her have emotions, which sounds weird to say, but its more often than not that women who are considered strong in movies and shows lack emotion and see femininity as something to avoid. Sexy and emotionless is usually the role given to strong women. Don’t get me wrong, there are really well written characters that would technically fall into those categories, but it’s the lack of characters like Sylvie which makes me appreciate the way she is, and that goes from her personallity to the way she’s dressed. And I have to say that in general the females in this show are really appealing to me and I enjoy watching them on screen. 

And Sylvie was such an amazing opportunity on the show too, not only as a character but also because of what she represented. She could have started a conversation among the themes in the show regarding how Loki sees himself. Being a gender fluid character I felt like this was such an amazing opportunity to actually see an explicit conversation about it on screen. About how Loki didn’t question having a female counterpart of himself, and what that means to how he viwes himself and his identity. I was excited to see that, esspecially knowing that Sylvie was going to be there to do so so so much more than just helping Loki find himself. It was such a amazing dance that could have been created with the dynamics of these two characters, bringing questions about who the other really is while still being their own characters. I was esspecially excited because representation of the lgbtqi+ community is usually reduced to white young gay men, and when it comes to identity and gender esspeciafically, gender fluidity or non-binary identities are almost never talked about. And on top of all of that, this show involving these two romantically is disrespectful to both characters and makes absolutely no sense.

I gave it much thought yesterday, what it was that I really hated about this relationship being settled. There are so many heterosexual couples in books and movies that are so amazing and well written, and for some reason since the first moment I knew this wasn’t one of them.

I feel like the biggest problem I have with it it's the development of the couple itself. They talked once on episode 2, and it wasn't about themselves really so it isn't like that first conversation added to them falling in love. Then they spend not even a day together and out of nowhere they are in love. If something had happened that really made them bond and trust each other I would kind of buy it I guess, but looking at episode 3 in an objective way, their relationship being now romantic comes out of nowhere. They have a couple of deep conversations sure but them being in love feels so forced. They essentially don't really know the other and haven't lived enough together for them to fall for the other either. It doesn't have any emotional weight to me. They are doing Loki wrong by having him literally fall in love with the first person who slightly understands what it's like to me him. It feels plain, forced, and really out of place, especially with where Loki is at story wise.

I feel like if it was well written and we'll developed, and it happened later in the series (not literally one episode after the female lead appears), then I would have been weirded out but I feel like the character arcs they deserved wouldn't have been so messed up. I don't ship them so it's not like I would be rooting for them, but I wouldn't be as mad for sure. The fact that this forced love story is there affects the character development of both characters, which clearly deserve better.

First with Loki, it's an ongoing theme that has been brought up that he doesn't want to be alone. Having him fall in love, esspecially as quickly as it happened, is just sick. It feels like the way for him to feel whole and okay is by him being with someone else which I feel misses the whole point of the show. Second with Sylvie, it just completely breaks all the praises I gave to the character some moments before. Don't get me wrong, it's perfectly possible to have a female character who is also in a relationship without her being watered down to nothing more to a love interest, but the nature of the relationship here, it being so underdeveloped, breaks what she had build up. Sylvie right now feels to me like a means to an end rather than her own character. That conversation I believe she was going to start for the show, which I talk about earlier, doesn't go both ways anymore. I'm really upset because for me it feels like the second they explained who she was, introducing who she could become, she immediately became the love interest. We haven't even had time to really enjoy the character knowing now who she is.

On top of all of this, I feel like a love story this early in the show is going to take the main focus of the Loki series away. I'm scared the show is going to go from Loki discovering who he is, what he wants and how he feels, to him wanting to go back to Sylvie all the time and him being in love becoming the main focus of his arc. Same with Sylvie, I don't want her character's arc to go from wanting to come to terms with who she represented in existance and with how to live with what happened to her and be happy, to her wanting to go back to Loki all the time too. Love stories like that are amazing too, but not with these characters at this point in the show.

Honestly when the nexus appeared I thought it was because Loki finally had loved himself, which is something we don't see happen at any point in his story (including the Loki in the sacred timeline). It's a sad thought but I believed that what had happened is that after talking to a different version of himself and before dying, he had realized he finally accepted himself and that wasn't supposed to happen. I still hope they go with that rather than the love story, for both the characters and for the plot of the series.

But yeah that's it, it ended up being really long but I hope I was able to explain well what I was trying to say. Hopefully the show continues to treat these characters and their stories well and doesn't make any unnecessary decisions like the one they just did.

[monstersandmaw]

Male alien x nb human (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Here's the winner of the 'which monster to write next' poll (at least it was at the time I started writing it). It’s been on early release for Patreon folks for about a week now, and I was supposed to post it here yesterday, but I forgot. I hope you enjoy it!

Lex is non binary, and if they lived on Earth at the moment, would most likely be assigned male at birth. Tarann (alien) is male, an assassin, and didn’t have what we might view as a normal childhood by any standards. As such, there is an awful lot he does know, and a lot that he's completely unfamiliar with...

Content: fluff, the tiniest pinch of angst, plus mention of genetic modification and sterilisation, 'creation' of genetic 'super-soldiers', nsfw, tentacle cocks (plural) Wordcount: 8000

The dull, steady voice of his ship’s computer informed him that faster-than-light travel would not be viable with all systems in their current state of blaster-riddled repair.

He cursed.

It then informed him that actually, since barely sticking the landing in a crumbling red-stone canyon, Tarann would be lucky to take off again at all.

He let out a long string of curses, even switching languages a couple of times.

“That was creative. I even detected some Tch’larian in there,” Menot, the androgynous computer, commented. “Been a while since I’ve heard you use your native tongue, Tarann…”

“Go fuck yourself with a Savaranian spiked tuber,” he grumbled, to which the computer had no qualms responding that if they were not a mere collection of unfathomably complicated code - which he had had no hand whatsoever in creating, they sarcastically pointed out - they might consider the directive.

Tarann simply shook his head in frustration and used the lower of his two sets of arms to smash the bulkhead open by the button on the wall, and stalked through the smashed-up ship towards his cramped sleeping quarters. The Spark was hardly a ship built for comfort. She was utilitarian; designed for quick escapes and aerial combat, and short-range sorties. She’d been his home for over a year now, and he’d be lucky if he ever got her to limp into the upper atmosphere of this backwater planet, let alone space. An unhealthy layer of fine red dust was already clinging to her wings and the intakes would likely need some extensive work before he could get her air-worthy again.

Mounting stress made the old implant scar in the side of his neck throb and he trailed his three-fingered hand along it, his skin currently a neutral, dull grey. Barefooted, as nearly all Tch’larians preferred due to particular shape of their three-toed feet, with one additional thumb-like digit that didn’t quite meet the ground when they stood, he padded silently along the metal floors of the ship and began to check and clean his weapons back in his quarters. The familiar monotony of clicking, sliding metal, and the smell of gun lubricant always soothed him.

“Think,” he hissed at himself.

Menot’s voice sounded over the system twenty minutes later and said, “Incoming transmission from the Agency. Would you like me to play it for you?”

He closed his four yellow eyes and inhaled steadily. Reluctantly, he growled, “Yes.”

“Agent Triskelion,” the familiar voice of his handler rumbled. “We understand that your ship took heavy damage in a dogfight after completing your last contract.”

“That’s a fucking understatement,” he snarled but he didn’t interrupt the message further.

“While it was unrelated to the contract on the Red Flame, your unplanned skirmish with Invaranian Rebels did attract attention and we have intelligence to suggest that they might have attempted to trace you following your escape. You are ordered to keep a low profile and your open contracts have been reassigned to other agents until we can be certain that the Red Flame is no longer looking for you.”

The metal of his blaster creaked under his grip and he relaxed before he damaged it, taking another deep breath. He hadn’t had a contract reassigned since he’d first joined the Agency all those years ago. The humiliation of it forced his skin to change from the dusty grey to a vibrant blue, dotted with teal. Feeling like a teenager again, he forced his skin back to its neutral grey and set the blaster aside, reflexively checking the safety before it put it down.

Back at the bridge, though it was barely large enough for him to squeeze around the seat, he snarled, “Menot, record this and prepare to send it to HQ.”

“Very good.”

“Agent Triskelion, acknowledging receipt of transmission and instructions to lie low. Currently grounded in a canyon twenty clicks north west of a small mining town on a planet that’s so fucking tiny it doesn’t even have an official name.” Tarann steady himself and added, “But I’ll get Menot to send coordinates with this transmission. Ship’s pretty beaten up and I’ll probably need extraction at some point. I doubt this place has the parts I need, but I can look. I’m going to head into the town at sunrise and I’ll take Menot with me. And I’ll keep a low profile.”

“As low a profile as one of the galaxy’s finest killers possibly can,” Menot added, and Tarann cursed whoever had coded sarcasm into their system.

“Exactly,” he said. “A stranger rocking up out of nowhere in a town that tiny is hardly going to pass unremarked, but I’ll adapt.” He snorted a little at the irony of that, knowing that his rather unique genetic melange was designed for camouflage. Not for him was the messy application of paints and disguises, though he couldn’t actually change his bone structure beyond accelerated healing. “So yeah, for the love of all you hold dear, please don’t just forget about me here. End recording. Menot, send it to HQ.”

With that, he slumped into the pilot’s seat for a moment and sighed. Menot helpfully informed him that dawn was three hours away, and he told them to shut everything down save for the essentials and maintain a vigilant watch while he attempted to get some sleep.

“I’ll wake you if anything needs your attention,” Menot promised.

With the sun high in the sky, Tarann stalked across the dusty plain that formed a ring around the town. In fact, it was much larger than they’d initially thought, and Menot quietly informed him in his hidden earpiece that the town appeared to go down into the earth, perhaps following the original mine shafts.

“Puts a new meaning on going to ground for a while,” he snorted.

He was relieved as he passed through dirty, dusty, narrow streets, to note all sorts of lifeforms here - some familiar and many not. With limited biodiversity, he might have stood out like a sore thumb, but the place seemed stuffed to the brim with hopeless outcasts from all over the system. There were even some humans here, which surprised him. The temperature was hot and arid, not ideal for the creatures he’d only had brief dealings with. Earth was seen as a backwater, with the emphasis on the water. It was the kind of place people went to retire to, and that was… about it. Enterprising humans had left centuries ago and gone to the newly terraformed planets like Mars - if they still wanted to remain in their solar system - and many more had joined up with the Federation and scattered all over the known galaxies.

When he passed a bipedal, slender human male, he asked Menot to give him a run-down on the species. “Both surprisingly easy and surprisingly difficult to kill, can be self-destructively curious and reckless, capable of making leaps of logic insurmountable to many species while being unfathomably illogical at other times…”

“Baffling,” he murmured. “Sounds like Agent Luna,” he said with a fond smile.

The legendary assassin had assessed him upon arrival at the Agency for unarmed combat, and somehow despite looking so… breakable, had had him on his back in two seconds flat. She’d also been the one to give him his field name, Triskelion, given that a decent number of things in his body, except his two hearts and four eyes, seemed to come in threes - three fingers, three toes, three lungs… The only trio of anatomical parts she hadn’t seen first hand was, well… elsewhere.

The fact that Luna was a fraction of his size and weight hadn’t seemed to matter at all in combat training, and he’d been very wary (and more than a bit in awe) of her since she’d returned from a mission with an injury that even the best surgeons at the Agency had said would kill her. Six months later, she was back in the field. He shuddered. Humans were like Anthariacs, once you thought you had a lock on their size and shape, they could simply morph into something else. Or perhaps they weren’t anything like that at all.

Unsettled, he shuddered again and nearly crashed straight into a small vendor’s stall in the narrow alley.

He heard the scraping voice say something, at which the ear piece translated, “Watch it!”

Shrugging off the encounter, he moved through the streets until he came to what looked like a bar with a noticeboard outside. Most of the listings were mundane requests and adverts for various services, and the rewards were in a currency he’d never heard of.

It took him a month on the planet to earn enough cash to stop having to make the twenty click trek out to the Spark every night to sleep. He would have slept in a doorway in the town had he not witnessed on his very first evening what happened to people who were caught unprepared and exposed. The sight of the slender wings being yanked off a tiny creature with a scream powerful enough to rupture eardrums had stuck with him and he’d risked the local wildlife - largely dirty great lizards - and gritty wind-storms on a daily basis to avoid that.

His handler at The Agency kept contact to an absolute minimum, except to update him periodically on the investigation that the Red Flame was still conducting and to tell him to stay holed up there. Boxed in with nothing to do, Tarann became irritable and jumpy. It wasn’t that he was itching for the next kill - he didn’t do his job for that - but the constant vigilance and insecurity of taking short, messy, shitty jobs here and there was waring him down, so when some jackass in the bar made a comment about that ‘four-eyed hill varanus over there’, he snapped. He’d encountered a hill varanus on one of his long treks back to where the Spark was still stashed out of sight in the canyon, and the enormous lizard had been curled up beside a large boulder, minding its own business until it decided to make Tarann’s sensitive inner calf its business with a maw full of teeth coated in thick poisonous saliva.

He’d been hallucinating by the time he’d managed to get back to the Spark - miraculously without dropping off the ledge and plummeting to the bottom of the canyon - and his body had been rippling through every colour in the known universe, and maybe even a few more, before he’d finally stuck a huge needle full of universal antidote into his left heart. It had taken him a whole day to recover enough to leave the ship.

Being compared to a hill varanus then - yes, his skin had the same gnarled texture as a number of reptiles found all over the galaxy, and yes, his saliva was also poisonous to a huge number of species - had suddenly broken all his carefully constructed control and he’d lunged at the large, slug-like creature, all four hands going around the thinnest point of its neck and squeezing until its eyes bulged.

“Oi!” a relatively high-pitched shout went up from behind the bar and a moment later a short blast of sound shot through the room and everyone cringed. The high-frequency noise made his insides crawl and he let go of the offending creature and staggered back a pace, toes splaying to try and steady himself. His skin flushed a sickly green before he could stop it.

Tarann turned his head and saw that the sound had emanated from a small, hand-held speaker which had been plonked down onto the surface of the bar. Behind it, wielding control of the button on the top of the speaker was - and he could have sworn that he felt his right heart lurch a little in his chest at the sight of them - a human. They had a blaster in their left hand and looked prepared to use it, if not necessarily formally trained. Their stance was pretty shoddy, but the distance of only a few spans between them more than made up for that. If the human fired, Tarann would die for sure.

“No fighting in my bar,” they said, voice stern and steady. “You got an issue with someone, you take it waaaay outside, am I clear?”

Both Tarann and the slug-thing nodded and he decided he needed another drink.

Approaching the human while they still held the weapon was probably not a wise move, but when he leaned his lower arms on the counter, his upper pair hanging loose and relaxed at his sides, Tarann saw a smile on their lips. “You must be new,” they grinned amicably, reaching below the counter to stash the blaster and pulling out a glass in its place. They then turned behind them to fill it up. “Haven’t seen any Tch’larians in here for a long time.”

He liked the way the human almost got the click at the start of the word but not quite. Some humans were known for their incredible mimicry skills, but this one clearly wasn’t as proficient. He also had no idea how to address a human after they’d just threatened his life, so he settled for a curt nod.

“And you’re about as chatty as the last one. Whatever that bit of pond slime over there -” they gestured with a bottle of distilled alcohol at the creature who’d insulted him “- said to you, just ignore them. They’re… a regular in here, but they don’t have many friends, if you catch my drift.”

“I wonder why,” he said flatly.

“It speaks!” the human chuckled. “And you’re fluent in sarcasm as well as Federation Common. Here, on the house.” And a small glass was shunted his way, sloshing with a clear, ruby red liquid. “You’ll like it. It’s a kind of brandy made with a fruit that grows in the mines. At least, the last Tch’larian I knew liked it. I could be grossly stereotyping an entire race based on one data point. Still, free booze…?”

“You talk a lot,” he said before sipping it. It burned his neon blue tongue pleasantly and then left a sweet aroma in his mouth that went up into his nasal cavity, leaving him with the impression he might breathe fire if he opened his mouth again.

“Yeah, well, you don’t, so… one of us has to balance the equation.” After a beat they added, “I’m Lex.” They held out their hand over the bar counter and Tarann vaguely remembered something about touch not being a taboo for humans. Not that it was taboo for Tch’larians either, but with so many people mingling under the Federation’s relatively peaceful protection in the past few centuries, it was still easy to offend someone inadvertently.

He noted the strength in the human’s hand as he slid his own three fingers into the grasp, and smiled at how smooth their skin was. Their hair was cut short at one side and had been left to flop a little longer at the top of their head, and he’d always wondered what a human’s hair would feel like beneath the pads of his sensitive fingers. Agent Luna hadn’t exactly been the type to let him try. He’d known that Agent Luna was female, but he had no idea what this human went by, and he was unfamiliar with human naming conventions, so that gave him no clue either.

Eventually he realised that he hadn’t told them his name, and murmured, “Tarann.” It seemed fairly safe out here, and most of the people who might want revenge on him for his line of work knew him as Triskelion anyway.

“Where are you staying?” Lex asked as they got back to work, keeping their head turned towards him a little so that he could still talk to them while they polished glasses and took orders from the odd patron.

“Out of town,” he said.

Lex paused halfway through pouring a bottle of something frothy and blue into a glass the size of a small bucket. “There’s nothing out of town…”

“My ship’s out there. Dead in the water, as it were,” he offered, taking another sip of his brandy. “This is excellent, by the way…”

His compliment was met with a grin, but the gesture quickly faded. “You’re not seriously sleeping in your dead ship out in the hills, are you?” they asked.

“Why would that be a problem?”

“You’re lucky the scavengers haven’t found you and stripped your ship - and you - bare…”

He tilted his head and blinked his four golden eyes at them. “I haven’t seen any sign of anyone out there except me. And the odd varanus…”

Lex winced dramatically. “Nasty fuckers those…”

Tarann nodded, rolling his right ankle. “Indeed.”

After a pause, Lex looked like they were about to say something, but the crash of glass on the other side of the room stopped them. “Shit, not those two again,” they hissed, and Tarann looked around just as a fight broke out for real this time.

They grabbed the blaster he’d seen before and the little speaker that emitted the unpleasant noise, and strode off around the bar, ignoring him completely where he sat. He had eased his lean, muscular frame onto a bar stool to take the weight off his frankly rather bruised and sore feet. The unpleasant sound seemed to do nothing for these two as they scrapped - all arms and teeth and roars, and even when Lex shot a quick, low-energy blast into the stone floor beside one of their feet, they didn’t break it up.

He should stay out of it. The human had guts, for sure, but the two creatures that were fighting were large and aggressive, and he didn’t want to draw attention to himself. A stray flail of the tip of one of their tails caught Lex in the face and they staggered back, yelling and spitting curses.

Making his mind up, he slid off the stool and approached the brawling patrons. Grabbing the nearest one by the scruff of their reptilian neck, he yanked hard and backed towards the doors of the bar, clearly catching them completely by surprise. Top thugs never expected to be bested by anyone, and it gave him a good few minutes of stunned compliance. Tossing them out onto the street with a snarl of his own seemed to sober that one up a mite, and a second later the other creature was booted out of the door with another curse, leaving Lex framed in the open doorway, blaster raised, face slightly bruised and utterly thunderous.

Something happened then in Tarann’s body that he was not expecting. A sharp, unfamiliar pang of arousal shot down his spine and fanned out through his entire nervous system. He shivered, a low-frequency rumble escaping him without permission. There was something about seeing a creature that should have been vulnerable in this situation - could have been crushed - standing there with a bruised face and blazing eyes, staring down two enormous beings three times their size, that made him hot all over. It was like mating season, or at least, his vague recollection of it from a brief talk at the Facility to explain that none of them would ever experience any of that because they had essentially had it edited out of their DNA. He’d escaped the Facility and joined the Agency and had never experienced the slightest tinge of lust since a brief flare in his teens. He bit those memories down and looked back at Lex.

“Thanks,” they grinned as the two brawlers separated and headed off in opposite directions down the street, yelling curses over their shoulders in their various languages. “How’d you feel about another brandy?”

He nodded and followed them back inside, watching the way their legs moved - their legs hinged forwards at the knee, which was intoxicatingly the opposite way to his own, their hips swaying rather alluringly.

“Listen,” Lex said as Tarann closed his fingers around his second glass of fiery brandy that evening. “If you’d like somewhere to stay, I’ve got a job opening here for a bouncer. The last girl I had got into trouble with some bounty hunter and had to scarper, but it comes with the offer of a room, use of the kitchen out the back, and a steady pay. It’s not great, but if I get tips, I’ll share them with you.”

Tarann blinked. “You can’t be serious…”

“Why not?” Lex shrugged, refilling a container with a viscous, silvery sauce that crackled softly as it sank into the jar.

Barely suppressing a shudder at the offending liquid, he made a mental note to avoid that at all costs, whatever the fuck it was supposed to be or go with.

Lex caught him staring sidelong at the fluid and laughed. “One of a small number of things on the menu that I wouldn’t recommend to anyone except a hazmat droid, or an Efulgari bombardier -” they added nodding across the room to where a frankly enormous creature sat waiting patiently, presumably for the bucket of viscous gloop in Lex’s hands. “Now, do you have to get back to your ship tonight, or do you want to stay here and think it over? You can let me know what you decide in the morning.”

He scowled softly; wary and distrustful. “You’d just let me stay?”

Lex shrugged again. “You’ve already earned your keep for tonight,” they grinned, revealing hopelessly small teeth. How could they hope to defend themselves with those? His own, by comparison, were two rows of viciously pointed fangs that could rip open the jugular of most of the known species that didn’t have exoskeletons, and even some that did.

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll think it over.”

Lex left him in peace after that for an hour or so, but when the patrons began to trickle out into the night, they returned to him and asked, “Want to head up to your room?”

He nodded silently, and followed Lex through a door behind the bar and upstairs.

“That’s my room,” Lex said, nodding at a door with peeling teal paint which stood ajar on his right. “And this is yours. It’s not much, but it’s comfortable and I kept it pretty clean. There might be just a little bit of dust…”

Again, Tarann just nodded his understanding and set his small pack down gently beside the bed. The room was indeed humble, but that wasn’t an issue. He didn’t have many belongings anyway; just Menot in their portable device and some clothes and local coin. “It’s fine,” he said, turning round to find Lex leaning against the door frame in a way that spoke of casual trust and again made his skin flush hot. Embarrassed, he looked away, but Lex didn’t seem to mind, or perhaps they didn’t notice.

“Kitchen is downstairs - it’s the only other door than the one that leads to the bar. You can’t miss it. Help yourself. See you tomorrow, I guess?” they smiled, running a hand through their hair and messing it all up in a way that did nothing to help the rising temperature of his skin or the syncopated lurching of his twin hearts in his chest.

With a final nod from Tarann, Lex left him for the night.

He heard them closing up about an hour later, and then caught the steady tread of their footsteps on the metal stairs, the squeak and click of their door, the sound of clothes hitting the floor, and, another few moments later, the gush of hot water. In the corner of his own room was a sink, so he splashed the dust and grime off his face and decided to ask about a shower in the morning.

The rhythm of his life for the next few weeks was considerably easier than the first had been. Menot kept him abreast of activity both regarding his ship - nothing, mercifully - and the Agency. After three weeks working for Lex, the two had become the very thing he had always shied away from. Assassins don’t form attachments; they don’t form friends. Do the job, get out cleanly, and move on. That was how he lived, and yet, the regular ebb and flow of patrons - most of them familiar by now, a few of them new - and the easy manner of the ballsy human who ran the place lulled him quietly into a new life.

He constantly tried to remind himself that it was a borrowed life; a cover, almost. This cosy existence with its easy repartee between them and the comfort of a soft bed and regular meals was not his to keep, and he would have to shrug it off the moment that he was given the all-clear.

One evening, seemingly at random, Lex closed up early.

“What’s up, boss?” he asked as Lex politely shooed the last drunken creature out of the door and locked it behind her six scuttling legs. “What’s going on?” His natural instincts set him suddenly on edge all over again, perhaps because he’d grown so complacent of late. He didn’t like changes to patterns. It had taken him a little while to relax into this one, and even then, he didn’t exactly ease up on the vigilance.

Lex grinned at him like they’d won some kind of cash-prize, hands balled into fists at their hips, and announced, “It’s my birthday.”

He frowned. “What… What does that mean? You’re… You’re giving birth?” He looked at Lex’ body and couldn’t see any indication that they were carrying some form of offspring.

Lex gave a huge snort and bent nearly double laughing.

“Apparently not,” Tarann mumbled. “Apologies.”

“No,” Lex waved, straightening up again. “I’m sorry, it’s… that just… caught me off guard. No, I’m not giving birth to anything today or ever. It’s…” and then they fell quiet, almost sad, and said, “You really don’t know what a birthday is?”

He shook his head, feeling unsettled.

“Huh,” they mused. “Well, simply put, it’s a celebration of the day I was born. Back on Earth, we celebrate them roughly every 365 days because that’s one complete orbital cycle of our planet around our Sun. Roughly. Give or take a decimal point or two…”

They stared at him and he grew even more uncomfortable. Birthdays were not something celebrated at the Facility where he’d been… raised. The old scar in his neck where their implant had been throbbed and his skin changed colour quietly from grey to a dark blue.

Lex took a step closer and placed their fingertips on his upper forearm. It wasn’t the first time Lex had touched him, but it was the first touch like that; gentle, careful, concerned. “What does that mean?” Lex asked softly.

Tarann wanted to run, but instead he forced himself to ask, “What does what mean?”

“That colour change? I’ve worked out a few already. You go a kind of bright blue when you’re super embarrassed, but I’ve not seen you turn that colour before…”

“You noticed,” he said with a half-smirk, revealing all his dangerous teeth behind his thin lips.

Lex twitched a shoulder but didn’t let go of his arm. “It’s hard not to notice you,” they said voice shifting lower in pitch. “I love watching your skin change. You know, it reminds me of these old antique lamps back on Earth… they’re called ‘lava lamps’ but they’re not actually made of lava. It’s wax or something. Anyway, when you turn them on, they get hot, and the wax inside floats to the top of the liquid in a blob, and when it cools down a bit, it sinks down again. They’re super old and rare now, but some of them change colour slowly, and it’s kind of hypnotic. I remember going to a museum and staring at one for ages. It’s like that with your skin.”

They circled their thumb over a small area of his arm and he shuddered.

“I think it’s beautiful…” And then Lex’ skin flushed and he caught the way their pulse throbbed in their neck, the veins and arteries so close to the surface as to be impractically vulnerable, but they didn’t seem to want to protect it with armour.  “Anyway,” they blurted, releasing him so quickly that he actually swayed a bit at the loss of contact, “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. What was I saying?”

“It’s your birthday,” he croaked after a pause.

“Yeah, so, uh… I figured maybe we could do something? There’s an Earth recipe involving pasta that I’ve finally managed to get all the ingredients for and I wanna make it. You game?”

“Game?”

“You want to help me?”

“Oh. Sure.”

Lex deflated a little. “You can take the night off if you’d rather.”

“No,” he said firmly. It never hurt to add to his knowledge.

“Ok then,” they smiled, and he caught the way their shoulders dropped a little, the muscles relaxing again. He’d answered correctly.

In fact, the meal ended up tasting alright. Human food seemed strange to him, and perhaps a little bland, but after the protein blocks he’d been raised on, anything tasted alright compared to those. What really made his evening was Lex’ obvious enjoyment. Their eyes were sparkling and alive, like jewels, and they laughed a lot.

They also made some significant inroads into the fiery brandy afterwards, and ended up slumped against Tarann’s left shoulders, smiling softly and running their fingertips over the slight, flattened bumps in his skin along his forearms.

“I can’t believe you have four arms,” they said, their voice slurred and their eyes vague.

Tarann, who wasn’t drunk, shifted slightly and jostled them. They snuggled up again immediately in a new position which forced him to put both his arms around their shoulders as they lay against this chest this time, and giggled. “Why not?” he asked, because he wasn’t sure what else to ask. They were beautiful and strong and tough at work in the bar and during the day, but he got to see a different side before and after work. The fatigue, the loneliness, the gentle-heartedness was never on show for the patrons of their scruffy, homely bar, but for him, they showed all that and more. Now, unwinding even further as the alcohol took effect, Lex became even more talkative than usual, which was saying something.

“Because you’ve got four!” they exclaimed, as if it was blindingly obvious. “And four eyes. I like your eyes. They’re like crocodile eyes.”

Tarann had no idea what a crocodile was and wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or not.

“And you said you’ve got two hearts?”

“Mmm,” he nodded, feeling brave and bringing his lower hand to rest quietly on Lex’s stomach as it rose and fell. Their body was warmer than his and he liked the tingling that ran across his skin at the touch.

Lex fell surprisingly silent for a while, their fingertips still trailing idle lines along his skin, until they looked up into his face from their slouched position - now with their head in his lap - and asked, “What did you do before you came here?”

Faced with the utterly open honesty in those deep eyes, he found himself suddenly unwilling to lie or even bend the truth. “I was a contract killer. I am still a contract killer. I’m just… lying low for a while.”

Lex blinked. “That explains it,” they muttered, eyes turning back to his arms.

They hadn’t even flinched at the revelation, which set a different prickling running across his nerves. “Explains what?”

“The way you watch people. You don’t see people though, do you. You see soft bits and armoured bits, dangerous bits and weak bits. You see exits from a room and weapons where there shouldn’t be any…”

Inhaling softly, he nodded. “Yes. Does that bother you?”

They shook their head. “No. But it makes me sad.”

“Why?”

“Because you… you haven’t really lived… have you?”

“I don’t understand.”

Lex lurched to sit upright then, dislodging Tarann’s hands from their stomach and swivelling to face him, their eyes now blazing with intensity. “You don’t think I’ve noticed the way you react when I touch you?”

The leap from ‘not living’ to ‘reaction to being touched’ was too great a one for him to follow and he narrowed his golden eyes in confusion.

Lex’s face softened and they climbed awkwardly into his lap, swaying slightly. The sudden, warm weight of their body so close to his own stole his breath for a moment and he felt his skin change from grey to acid blue to a dull pink and finally back to grey in the space of a few heartbeats. “See?” they murmured, rolling their hips invitingly and smiling as a low-frequency mating rumble left him before he had realised what he was doing. “You come alive beneath that touch…”

“I…” he began but stopped when he realised he had no idea what he was going to say. It was perfectly true. He did feel utterly different when Lex was touching him. “I’ve never… There’s never been any need.”

“What do you mean?” they asked, placing their hands on his chest, one over each thudding heart.

Tarann became almost painfully aware of his rasping breathing, the way his body was heating up, the stuttering rhythm of his hearts, the tingling in his groin that he’d never bothered to explore, even alone… “I was created to become a weapon. I was incubated and hatched in a facility which created weapons. They sterilised us before we were even born.”

Lex did look shocked at that. “Fuck… that’s… that’s so heartless… But even so, I can’t have kids, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like to get my dick wet from time to time…”

Tarann, again, didn’t understand. Lex was speaking Federation Common, but the nuances that the human put into their words were frequently lost on him.

Seeing his confusion, Lex laughed, rolled their hips again, and this time Tarann noticed something a little different at the front of their pants, a hardness that hadn’t been there - or hadn’t been as prominent - a few minutes earlier. “I still like to have sex,” they grinned.

“Oh.”

“You don’t have to have sex though,” they went on. “I’m just saying, it’s ok to let someone close. And to enjoy that. However you want to.”

“Oh.”

Lex laughed and tipped their head back a little, looking free and relaxed again now that Tarann’s confusion had been cleared up. Being unsteady with alcohol, however, they kept tipping back until Tarann was forced to grab them with both sets of hands to stop them toppling off; one pair around the waist and another around the arms.

“Steady,” he smiled. “I think maybe you should have some water. And head up to bed.”

“You’re probably right. I had a good birthday though,” they added, gently peeling the three fingers of Tarann’s lower right hand off their waist and bringing it up to their lips. The gesture they left there Tarann knew was called a kiss. Humans weren’t unique among lifeforms in nuzzling intimate parts of their anatomy against the other’s, but the strangeness of it for his species held an instant fascination. How could their lips be so soft? How could he never have done that? How could he never have wanted to share this kind of experience with anyone before?

And before he could stop it, his skin flushed a deep maroon all over like a drop of ink on wet paper, splotched here and there with dark purple. He knew what that meant for his species, and the sight of his own skin changing to the colours of an individual receptive to mating made him freeze.

“Well,” Lex chortled amusedly. Apparently they knew what it meant as well.

“No,” he said immediately, though he wasn’t quite sure what it was he was rejecting.

With a knowing but slightly melancholic smile, Lex clambered out of his lap and stood up. “Night, Tarann,” they said as they walked away. Their hands brushed against the door frame as they left the bar, and he stared at the spot where their fingers graced the woodwork even as their footsteps vanished up the stairs.

His skin did not change back that night, no matter how much he willed it to change. Half an hour later, as he lay in his bed, the sounds of Lex pleasuring themselves reached his acutely sensitive ears. The tiny, muffled moans and grunts that left their body set his skin aflame all over again. He moved one hand cautiously, experimentally down his torso to the slit where, to his astonishment, he was slick and sensitive. He gasped at the touch, and the three delicate, tentacle-like cocks which normally never left the sheath began to unfurl almost curiously into his hand.

Ordinarily, this might have repulsed him, but the sound of Lex gasping and the slick sounds that accompanied the moans, made the tentacles of his genitalia coil demandingly around his fingers. He knew almost nothing about his own species’ reproductive habits because he knew he would never need them. ‘You will never be a breeder,’ they had said when he’d hit sexual maturity - the first time he’d even bothered to explore his body, and, until that night, the last - and that had been that.

Sparks of pleasure shot through his whole body and he began to croon, the sound deep in his throat, rumbling and vibrating like an idling engine, filling the room. He couldn’t stop it. Balling his fingers into a fist, he felt his three pale cocks coil around it instinctively, and he began to kneed exploratively at the inside of the flower-shape they made around his hand, a thin, extremely sensitive membrane stretching between them from the root to about a third of the way down. The pleasure that that elicited made his back arch of the bed and his toes scrunched up the sheets as he lifted his hips too, pressing harder at the centre of the three smooth, increasingly slick tentacles.

Forcing himself to focus back on the sounds of Lex as they apparently approached their climax, he felt a wall of heat building in him. Something was approaching, and he let it sweep over him until the three tentacles surrounding his balled-up fist pulsed, gripping his hand tight as a vice, and warm fluid spurted from their centre over his clenched fingers in a series of messy gushes. His vision went white, his body went rigid, and his mind went completely blank.

Tarann floated in a blissful haze for a long time before he could even bring himself to move, his cocks too sensitive, his hand covered in sticky, slick release, but eventually his cocks retreated back into the sheath in his lower abdomen and he felt able to sit up. His hand was a mess, his lower body too, and when he tried to stand, his muscles felt shaky and weak, as though he’d run the training simulation at the facility for an entire day without breaks.

With his skin so sensitive that it was hard to fall asleep that night. Lex must have finished during his own orgasm because he never heard another noise from their room that night. Shame curled in to replace the pleasure as he realised that he’d eavesdropped on something that was private and not meant for his hearing, and in the morning, he could barely look Lex in the eye as he entered the kitchen in search of breakfast.

Lex, however, smiled warmly. The effects of the alcohol the previous night seemed only to have made their voice drop a little and their reactions were groggy and slower. “I think I'm going to keep the bar closed today,” they announced as they poured themselves a hot drink. “You’re not hungover at all, are you?”

“No,” he replied. “It takes more than that to get me drunk, let alone hungover.” ‘Hungover’ was a term he’d only learned since working for Lex.

“So…” Lex asked a little while later as they cooked breakfast for the two of them the hob. “If you’re only here to lie low for a while, do you know how long you’ll actually be here?”

“No.” Apparently Lex hadn’t been so drunk that they didn’t remember their conversation last night. He paused and added, “But the last transmission the Agency sent me indicated that the people who were looking into the disturbance after my last contract were no longer investigating.”

“So… not long then.”

“Probably.”

Lex poked at the pan with a wooden spatula and sighed.

“Why do you ask?”

He could see the way Lex’s jaw worked from side to side for a moment and recognised it as one of their tells. They were upset. “You think you’ll miss me when you leave?”

“Of course I will,” he said. “You’ve been extremely generous to me when I did nothing to earn it.”

“Right.”

Tarann knew he’d said the wrong thing immediately, but none of his intense training had prepared him for this kind of situation. He backtracked through the conversation, searching for something he could have said differently, something he could have handled better. Lost, he asked falteringly, “Will… you miss me? Is that what this is about?”

Lex nodded without turning around. “Yeah,” they said, voice cracking slightly. They cleared their throat and poked at breakfast again. It smelled ready but they didn’t seem ready to turn around.

Tarann stepped closer, his feet silent on the stone floor, and placed his hands boldly on Lex’ hips. The human immediately eased and leaned back, resting their weight against his body, though their head barely came midway up his chest. Taking the opportunity at last and sensing it would be welcome, Tarann brought his hand up and stroked his fingers gingerly through Lex’ hair. It was every bit as soft as he’d thought it would be, and he watched his skin change colour beneath the strands as they brushed over his fingers. Lex moaned quietly.

When he lowered his hand and Lex saw the maroon fading back to grey, they smiled and turned around, switching the hob off as they did. They put their own hands on his chest and he ached suddenly to have nothing separating them; to remove his close-fitting space-suit top and Lex’ loose-fitting shirt. As Lex slid one palm tentatively up to his neck, he felt the touch in a wave of heat and closed his eyes. His fingers tightened on Lex’ hips and Lex moaned softly.

“I want you,” Lex murmured. “I thought about you last night.”

Tarann opened his eyes a crack and blinked softly. “I heard you,” he admitted.

“Yeah?” Lex laughed, looking part bashful and part turned on. “What did you do when you heard me?”

“I…” he flushed neon blue and stepped back, ashamed.

“Hey,” they breathed, chasing after him. “It’s alright. It’s… really hot that you did that while thinking about me.”

“You don’t mind?”

They shook their head. “If you wanted to try together…”

That mating call thundered through him and he lowered his forehead, bringing it to touch Lex’.

“That a yes?”

“What about breakfast?”

“I overcooked it all already,” they laughed. “It’s ruined.”

Grabbing his hand, they tugged him out of the kitchen and back upstairs to their room.

They shed their clothes in a tangle, and once again Tarann was left staggered and enchanted by the human’s body. This time it was the sheer vulnerability of it. He could also see their arousal plainly - there was no sheath to tease - and something about that made his own sheath throb so hard he let out another mating croon.

“Fuck, that sound is so hot,” Lex gasped, lying back on the bed and tugging him down atop them. “Look at you,” they added, running their fingers down his heaving chest and playing with his sheath as he collapsed atop them. “I’ve always found Tch’larians attractive, but you… the way you move, the way you shudder when I touch you, the way you fucking croon like that…” He did it again - entirely involuntarily - as Lex crooked two fingers and delved carefully into his sheath, catching the inner walls of his three cocks inside and making them unfurl even quicker than they had last night.

They wrapped around Lex’ fingers and Lex moaned. “I want those on my cock… please…” they gasped, and Tarann felt like he might die if he didn’t do as Lex asked. His body was so tight all over, his skin flushing from dusky pink to dark magenta with every deep, sonorous groan that escaped him.

With one leg on each side of Lex’ thighs, he lowered his hips down until they were touching, and his cocks immediately curled around Lex’ own hard cock, covering it in weeping, slick fluid. Lex let out a string of curses and flung their head back into the bed beneath them, rutting their hips up into Tarann’s grip. The pressure of the tip of their cock against the point where the three cocks joined inside him made him growl with pleasure, his maw full of teeth opening, his saliva starting to fill his mouth, bright blue tongue lashing behind them.

“You know…?” Lex panted, thrusting up into the wet heat of the grip that his tentacle cocks had around theirs.

“Know what?” he snarled back, shaking from the effort of holding himself upright over Lex.

Lex reached up to his face with a fingertip and trailed it around his drooling mouth before putting it in his own and sucking. The sight of it sent Tarann into a fury of lust for some reason, and only then did he recall that his saliva was poisonous to many species. Before he could warn Lex, the human grinned and their eyes went wide, pupils blown until their irises were a mere whisper of colour. Apparently he wasn't poisonous to humans. Quite the contrary if the way Lex fucked upwards into his body and filled him with sparking pleasure with each thrust was anything to go by.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Lex hissed, and Tarann felt his cocks contract around the hard length inside him.

He didn’t have the breath or the words to agree.

“I’m… I -” Lex cried out, and suddenly heat flooded the inside of Tarann’s sheath and he felt his own cocks clench and pulse rhythmically around Lex’ cock as he came too. He drew every drop from Lex that they had inside them as his own orgasm rolled through him and left him mute, panting, and thrumming all over.

“Fuck that was intense,” Lex chuckled some while later, when Tarann’s cocks had finally let go of their own softening cock. “Are you ok?”

“Mmm,” he rumbled from his new position, slumped on the bed beside Lex, his trio of cocks lying limply across his torso, splayed out and spent and utterly sensitive.

Lex sat up, heedless that their own body was covered in their combined release, and trailed their fingers down Tarann’s torso towards his still pulsing sheath. “Can I?” they asked.

Tarann didn’t reply but he responded with a shrug. He had no idea what Lex intended, but he trusted them. What Lex did was to lean forwards and take one of his cocks into his mouth and suck on it gently. Tarann’s whole body lurched and he bellowed at the sheer volume of the sensation as it thundered in his head and under his skin all over again.

“Too much?” Lex laughed.

“No?” he gasped, trying to steady his spinning head and suddenly racing hearts. “No. Definitely not too much. Just…”

“Intense?” Lex supplied.

“Do it again?”

Lex did.

—

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[blackwoolncrown]

Genuine question, so I’m bi and even if I’m not out I’m still bi because I feel that attraction regardless if I’m in a relationship or not. But I recently realized I am very much non-binary, but I’m part of a very conservative, religious, middle eastern community in which I will always be perceived and treated as a woman. So, am I still non-binary? That’s not really the question I’m trying to ask. I’m just struggling with wanting to exist as I am beyond gender but not being able to

1. Being non-binary is a personal, internal feeling and has no bearing on whether or not people around you acknowledge this. That’s how gender works. This is why a woman with a body perceived as a ’man’ who is misgendered daily is still a woman. Our genders are ours, the struggle is having them validated and properly perceived by others who generally rely on gender norms and bioessentialism to interact w people.

2. I feel your struggle, evne down to the ‘this isn’t really what I’m asking’. Being nonbinary is very much a thing but it can be impossible to give language to because our entire language was written around binaries. We are constantly struggling to manifest and find in life an experience that we have tacitly been denied language to. We can work towards it and build it but it is not easy at all. I struggle with this constantly, and literally recently have been dealing with how this is playing out painfully in my own life. I do not have all the answers, but here’s my philosopy [TW: EXPLICIT DECONSTRUCTION AND INVALIDATION OF GENDER]

My background is esotericism and philosophy. While those things did not give rise to my internal feeling of being they did help structure and give it language which likely ‘fleshed it out’ a little bit. So that’s the disclaimer.

To put it in brief pretty much all core philosophies or enlightenment or religious mysticisms admit that the thinker must go beyond the world as presented and see through to its undifferentiated state. Gender being a construct is no new idea, but most people intellectually accept it and then refuse, outright or subconsciously, to actually apply that to their life and inspect where their identity is informed by gender and then actually divest themselves of it. It is said, in many ways, in many different schools of thought, that the essential, highest, or core of human being, of human consciousness is both genders, or undifferentiated in gender; concepts of gods and ideas as ‘male-female’ or genderless (like angels) abound. You being Middle-Eastern yourself may have an intimate knowledge of spiritual ideas of beings who have transcended gender. This concept is sometimes represented as embodied (male-female or genderless beings) or as transcending the body (having nothing to do with what form the physical body takes). Scientifically speaking, even the universe itself has been found to not work on a binary at all, but to be fundamentally quantum; that is, fundamentally emptiness (nothingness, undifferentiated-ness, openness) that only collapses (limits, manifests, chooses) once a point is perceived or made to interact with something else.

I don’t think this is simply a thought experiment or an end-goal of studious practice though that is one way to get there. I think this is the basic form of human consciousness and while gendered people can endeavor to arrive at this point through spiritual, religious or philosophical practice, there are plenty of us throughout history ( more here now due to the exposure of information perhaps) for whom ideas of gender construction didn’t ‘stick’ either because they made no sense (they fall apart at the slightest investigation) or because they cause pain (you know that feel).

While it is liberating to exist in this state, uninhibited by the limitations of a binary, this ecstasy and openness is removed whenever it is invalidated. Now, for a cis person this happens rarely because they live in a world that reinforces that their body and their gender are perceived socially as ‘correct’. When it does happen, they find it upsetting, but again it’s very infrequent. Enough that they can maintain a very rigid and unfractured sense of identity bound to their gender. They spend almost all of their time in a gender euphoria so present it becomes background noise. When trans people who are men or women exist in the world, their experience of gender invalidation can be much more common and much more distressing. Their gender euphoria comes from affirmation of their gender, and dysphoria is inflicted socially when they are misgendered. If you are the kind of nonbinary that you and I seem to be (which I must put this way because not all of us have the same experience of gender though most of us have a same experience of struggle), gender euphoria is much more fleeting because any assignation of binary gender feels limiting and confusing. Rare euphoria comes when we see or experience a ‘mixedness’ or ‘completeness’ that is very very hard to depict or express so we don’t get it often. Dysphoria comes whenever gender is assigned; there is no ‘correct’ one because very few people understand us– we ourselves largely are denied language to even explain it to them, and ears that listen!! There are no channels we can go down to have our gender affirmed because it is our lack of gender specificity that feels most comfortable, yet this is an entirely gendered society where the idea of a person is gendered by default and almost always tied to some aspect of the body.

I think that a problem we face is that to actually understand our undifferentiated/quantum gender state, people would have to accept an entire deconstruction of gender which, as an idea, may be abrasive to their sense of identity. Gender is a metaphysical construct- i.e. it is nowhere to be found in the physical body. People who are attached to the mental security their sense of binary gender gives them do not want to hear that their gender is just an idea they have assigned meaning to.

 I find it frustrating because it’s not particularly hard IMO to not do this: to understand each other not as men or women or gendered at all but to see our habits and needs and ways of life as being valid because we are human, human animals seems very easy and I wish people could do that more often. If I am nurturing that is not because I am a woman, because men can nurture too, can’t they? It is because I am human and the human species exhibits nurturing behaviors. If I am obstinate at times, it is not because I am being masculine, it is because human beings can exhibit bullheadedness and irritation at times. So on for desire, kindness, selfishness, resourcefulness, kinship…We do not need to gender these things for them to be real! But because we have, people are kind of stuck on that, despite the fact that the gender of certain attributes and behaviors can differ from society to society! If there is gender, it is always in relation to its opposite- men are not masculine and women are not feminine- men are masculine dominant and women are feminine dominant. The gender ideas should always be coupled into a whole, but I digress.Another question I raise myself and you may have wondered is if this is nonbinariness or the frustrating alienation of being perceived and treated as a woman, for surely discomfort with the gender identity of ‘woman’ is, ironically, quite common in womanhood. My answer is that, much like bisexuality, people considered women are much more likely to allow internal questioning to dissolve gender binaries or rigid gender role expectations because in a patriarchy, men’s gender brings benefits and women’s gender brings none. We don’t get anything really great out of the deal, and so we’re less likely to stick around and accept it. That doesn’t invalidate the fact that we’re nonbinary, because again ‘nonbinary’ isn’t specifically a ‘third’ or ‘other’ gender– it’s an experience of being that exists outside of the gender binary completely. It is the experience of finding gender as a concept too small to fit into.

You can be nonbinary in and of itself, and you can also be a nonbinary woman- a woman who identifies with the experience of womanhood but whose concept of womanhood is other than that of binary gender. It’s up to you. I sometimes use this designation but it is largely social- an admission that while I do not fully identify with it, I am born into womanhood and am experiencing life perceived as a woman, yet form a non-binary internal position.You in this moment are deeply nonbinary. It is not a fashion, it is not an outward expression. It is a deep inner presence and experience of unboundedness, unfixedness, and vague, undifferentiated immensity. It is, in my opinion, too big and ineffable to fit into any box, any outfit, any name. And so in this world we may find it difficult to interact with others who are always attempting to collapse us into gender, to cut us down to a digestible size, to see only tiny bits of us at a time. It is frustrating. To be honest I flirt every day with the idea of giving up and going to a monastery but I know good and well that monasteries, too have their gendered ideas for all their sweet talk of transcendance. 

I wish I had sweeter words to offer but still, yes you are nonbinary. You are what you are before people perceive you and regardless of whether they are capable of seeing you in fullness or not. That cannot be taken from you.

[girlsbtrs]

“It’s Such an Intense Boy’s Club”: Cole Becker (SWMRS) on the State of the Music Industry

DISCLAIMER: This article was written August 5, 2017. As we reflect on events concerning SWMRS and Joey Armstrong, we want to make it clear that we stand by Lydia, believe her allegations and want SWMRS to be held accountable for their actions. We apologize that we helped perpetuate a narrative in which people felt SWMRS was a safe space for women in the industry, and from here on out we will be taking further steps to ensure the safety of young women/non-men on our Roadie For A Day program, including requiring a GBTRS rep on each tour we partner with. To any and all victims, we apologize for the hurt this has caused and hope that in the future we can ensure safety in our programming.

The SWMRS front man gets real about the need for activism and looks to a better future.

Punk is more than a style of dress or a type of music. It’s an attitude, and as I sit across from Cole Becker, I get the sense that he is someone who truly embodies what it means to be punk.

My immediate impression of Cole was the strong juxtaposition in his “hard, fast, loud” stage presence with his calm, warm demeanor during our chat. Cole is the front man of the Oakland, California-based band SWMRS, who are known for being outspoken about creating safe, inclusive spaces at their shows. They use their platform to speak out against rampant misogyny and sexism in the male-dominant music industry, and that, my friends, is incredibly punk rock.

Check out all of the wonderful, progressive takes that Cole has about the state of the music industry, while also looking at steps towards a better future in our exclusive interview:

So as you know, I help run a female-centric organization that aims to level the playing field for women in the industry, so I wanted to start off by asking what it means to you to have diverse women represented in the music industry?

It means everything. I think it’s one of those things where a lot of people are ready to talk and say they’re ready for it, but I think it’s a big challenge to really integrate those jobs and start leveling the playing field because I think there’s a lot of subliminal factors that go into hiring.

I think that the fact that we’re having this conversation is really important, but it’s going to be a while. I want it to go faster, but there’s a bunch of different factors at play that are really challenging obstacles, just because of the way that our patriarchal society works.

So what do you feel like your role as a band (and also as an individual) is in keeping up this dialogue?

I think like as a band, especially as we get into a more professional realm as employers -- and as people who run, on one hand an artistic outlet, but on the other hand a business -- making sure that we’re giving the opportunity to young women who have the qualifications to offset the societal setbacks to getting there.

Are there any current women that you have been listening to or following in the music industry?

Angel Olsen is my favorite record out… and then my friend Ebonie is an engineer at Atlantic Studios… [and she] runs a media source and a camp for girls to learn how to be audio engineers because she says… as a singer and a producer, that’s opened up so much more freedom for her.

I definitely want to check that out, because sound engineering -- there’s definitely a huge gender gap.

One of my girlfriend’s friend’s moms is the editor for like some big TV show, and it’s a very similar world…. There’s this weird thing where like -- I mean I’ve never experienced it so I can’t talk about it as well as a like woman who has experienced it has -- where they tell you, “Oh well you need to speak up more and ask for what you want,” but then when you do, it’s like, “Oh, you’re asking too much.”

Yeah I know exactly what you’re talking about. That’s interesting. I don’t know that much about the TV world.

Yeah but it’s the same thing in music too… it’s just like all the people I know that do music are white dudes… I think a lot of bands have all white all male crews because that’s just what they’re comfortable around. And so that’s a huge thing to overcome: how you make sure that they have shared experience with women too -- and it’s such an intense boys club… I think it comes from being insecure about our masculinity.

I also wanted to talk about the term “fangirl” a little bit, just because it’s kind of used in a discriminatory way. So what are your thoughts about that?

I mean, I think that I just don’t know another word to describe the phenomenon … I do think we need to reevaluate the negative connotation we put on it, because to have young people, like boys or girls or non-binary kids, that are that excited about something -- that’s fucking beautiful. That’s something so amazing and pure, and like, at least they care about something, you know? They haven’t been marred by this fucking terrible, apathetic world we live in, and they have something real that they can hold on to and be and love, and I think that’s so admirable, and I wish I loved something that much … and I do, I’m a fangirl about music, you know?

Absolutely, and I think it’s interesting because I think it’s kind of come up in discussion again. I don’t know if you read the Harry Styles Rolling Stone…

Exactly… that dude’s a legend … somebody who has such an intimate and unique relationship with the teenage girls of the world -- for him to come out and say that just validates so many people and that’s a very special thing that he did. When you refer to it negatively, you’re assuming moral high ground.

You guys are known for really championing creating safe spaces at your shows, which I think is a really cool thing. So what kind of a reaction have you gotten from fans both on and offstage about that?

I mean it’s all positive. It’s cool. The strangest thing is, I’m an upper-middle class white kid, heterosexual, cis-gendered male from a suburb of Oakland, California. To be able to create a space where I see people that I have little to no ostensible common experience with, connect with the music and be able to feel as free as I do in the space where we’re making music and sharing it with them -- that’s really special.

Also -- “safe space” has become something that is losing its specificity, so I’ve been trying really hard to make sure that I’m engaging them in not just claiming it to be a safe space, but getting them involved in making it a safe space when we play. So instead of just outright saying “this is a safe space,” I always try to say like “hey, we can’t keep it safe unless you all are helping us… have your eyes out because we can’t see everything from stage.”

Have you noticed a difference in the dynamic at your shows before and after the election, or has it kind of been the same pretty much?

It’s become just more and more honest, in a way. I think now more than ever, people don’t have a place they can go to and just be totally in the moment and feel something good and deep and powerful, and I think live music can transport people to that.

But I think there’s so much feelings of anger and sadness and fear among kids who sincerely don’t know whether their parents are going to get deported or whether they’re going to have health care or this and that… To have just one half-hour moment where they don’t have to think about anything other than being there and feeling something good -- I’ve noticed that their connection to the music has gotten stronger…. It’s a bit of a selfish reaping of the terrible, terrible circumstances we’re in.

But I feel like it’s a collectively beneficial moment too.

Yeah I think it’s reminded me that music is something that is very powerful and pure and beautiful, and it put more faith in my belief in what I do… it makes me prouder and prouder every day because I have a space -- and to be able to make that place for somebody.

So just to kind of bring up some stats, only 5% of top executives in the industry are women, and of course women of color, trans women, all other marginalized groups face an even greater struggle. So what are your thoughts on the importance of representation, and what does that look like to you?

I mean representation -- that’s huge... For me, as somebody who just doesn’t identify with that much heteronormative culture, I don’t look at executives and see like, “Oh, that’s what I want to do,” you know?

Because it’s a very masculine, golf-centric type of feel, and so to have diversity, not just visually, but of style -- I think that’s huge. But beyond that, I think education is the biggest step, you know? Like putting more resources towards getting girls involved -- like young women and young trans women and young women of color -- involved in music on just a basic level where they feel encouraged and validated to be part of the industry.

To wrap things up, are there any other local bands that you want to shout out?

Yeah! Shoutout to Destroy Boys. They are my -- our little sisters, who write really badass punk songs… Mt. Eddy -- very proud of those little dudes. Ricky Lake is my friend. He’s like an art rapper. Same Girls, which is Taifa’s band. And, gotta shoutout to Plush too. The last two are mellow shoegaze bands but I like them. They’re great people.

- article by Jess George

[direquail]

An NB reading of Grace in Terminator: Dark Fate

Disclaimer:

Before I start, just want to get this out here: I’m in no way insisting that Grace *has* to be non-binary, that we’re *supposed* to read her as non-binary, or that that’s in any way what she’s “meant to be”. This is just some stuff I’ve noticed that, as someone who sits on the genderqueer/non-binary/transmasc side of things, really resonated with me. Again--read her as entirely woman-identified if that’s what you want to do or feels right to you. I am ecstatic that lesbians and wlw-identified folks have someone that they feel represented in, too. I wish I’d had more characters like her when I was growing up and felt so out of place because of my gender non-conformity. 


But I, for one, would love a non-binary or even trans reading of Grace.

So what I’d like to do instead is just lay out a couple ways someone who is NB-identified *might* connect with Grace as a nonbinary character. Starting with the obvious.

Androgyny Now, I do want to be clear that I know that gender presentation =\= gender identity. And again, obviously, people will latch onto things that they relate to in characters, and I really do believe that there’s no “one right way” to read a character. The character of Grace isn’t a real person; she’s part of a story, told by people, who had something specific to say, and her character reflects that. But from the perspective of the people who watch her, who internalize and connect with her character, there can be points of connection that have nothing to do with the author’s/creator’s intent, and so, Grace-the-character can be many things to many people. The only real way to know how a person IDs is to ask them. That’s it, that’s all. You can’t assume. But also, sometimes, people do “ping” a certain way. They give off a sort of “energy”, and for me, Grace’s energy isn’t the sort of “diaphanous femininity” that even visibly-gender-nonconforming AFAB characters are often framed to exude. Grace’s energy isn’t masculine, either. Her mannerisms don’t seem intended to read that way; rather, they seem intended to read as soldier. I’m not very skilled at breaking down movements, especially when it comes to how actors move and what it all means. It’s totally possible that a lot of what’s unique about how Grace moves is because Mackenzie Davis is, self-admittedly, not the most athletically-inclined person. Grace is long-limbed and rangy and sometimes very stiff/poised, but never stiff through the hips like a Straight Dude(TM), or heavy through the shoulders like a musclebound meathead. She takes up space, too; she’s taller than Dani and Sarah both, and the only recurring characters who are “bigger” than her throughout most of the film are Carl and the Rev-9.

To be clear: Women can be tall, and rangy, and androgynous, and take up space, and that doesn’t make them less women--unless they don’t identify that way. My point with all of the above is just observing that Grace doesn’t move like a “male action hero”—but she also doesn’t seem over-the-top feminine in the way that mainstream-y media will “compensate” for perceived unfemininity, and that’s kind of wonderful. Her stature, her physique, all of that, seem to be chosen and calibrated towards an end goal that isn’t gendered: Combat, efficacy as a warrior. Whether you want to read her as a woman or as nonbinary is largely going to be about your personal preference. This also has the effect of giving the impression that Grace is absolutely unselfconscious about her body and how it looks—and she has no reason to be, not because she looks good or bad, but because what she can do with her body is just so vastly more important, and because she’s so willing to put her body and everything it can do on the line in order to fulfill her mission (and protect Dani). If Grace has a gender, it’d be “Protector” or “Warrior”. And in a way, what makes Grace so appealing to female-identified lesbians is the same thing that makes her appealing to NB people—Her character was explicitly designed not to cater to “the male gaze”, and therefore, she also exists outside the typical gendered confines reserved for “female characters” in media. The emphasis is just slightly different: Instead of a different way of being female, NB!Grace has little to no use for those categories at all. Again, it’s all in how you want to read her. Grace comes from a future where survival and fighting take first priority, and you could project the same tired “Gender isn’t a ~problem~ in the future/after the world ends” approach that a lot of cis and hetero men take to sci-fi--but also, why? It’s tired. Give me a Grace who is preoccupied with survival, yes, who maybe doesn’t have time to think too much about this gender shit--but also, a Grace who finds that this “androgyny” (although she might not call it that) suits her, who takes to this way of moving and being in the world, this way of using her body, and identifies more with that than with being a “man” or a “woman”. 


(Sidenote: as someone who took a fair amount of Queer Studies classes, it does irk me a bit that discussions of mainstream-y speculative media seem permanently suspended between this sort of “genderblind” futurism where “identities” just don’t exist because they’re apparently not needed anymore, or copy-pasting our contemporary discourses about identity into a future that is materially very different than ours. The point of these identities is, in part, to describe our experiences, the good as well as the bad, and those experiences of gender and sexuality don’t exist in a vacuum. So, the words we use will necessarily change to accommodate that—especially in the post-apocalypse. BUT, everything that comes after us will also bear the stamp of what came before it; it’s just a matter of what the creator means to emphasize.) Augments & Body Mods This is a little dicey, because there’s some clear tension in the movie between the idea of robots = inhuman/unfeeling = bad, and humans = good/feeling. And in that light, it’s potentially problematic to (even incidentally) imply that nonbinary/gender-nonconforming = not human.

But I’d like to point out that the film does deliberately challenge any neat separation of “human” and “machine” with Carl’s evolution as a person. 
And based on what I’ve read from James Cameron and Tim Miller interviews, there is some “blurring” intended between human and machine in the franchise.

In fact, Carl and Grace are foils for each other, somewhat, in the sense that they’re on opposite ends of a spectrum where human and machine become blurred, and I love that. As a genderqueer person with a very fluid experience, it appeals to me on a deep level because you could spend literally forever breaking down where does one “gender” end and another begin--emotionally, socially, spiritually, and physically.  


So the fact that there’s (1) no hard binary between human and machine (it’s explicitly subverted), and (2) we’re given multiple points of inflection, especially if you count Sarah and the Rev-9--alleviates a lot of the tension I’d feel otherwise in mentioning this. But I don’t think this is something that should be allegorical or a direct comparison; I think that it operates best on a metaphorical or theoretical level. 


And just, it’s the whole vaguely-cyberpunk idea of modifying your own body, not in a mass-produced or manufactured sense, but in this organic and highly individual sense, born out of contingency and necessity, that makes Grace’s Augments so meaningful. It’s one of the things that makes her read as human, too, because it feels more in line with our tendency to stick ink, steel, bone, what have you, through our skins whenever we get the chance--as opposed to some kind of symbolic dehumanization by “becoming a machine”.

Grace routinely refuses to categorize herself in anything other than the most general terms, or explain the details of her Augments, and she seems very protective of them. Rather than seeming ashamed, this refusal reads a lot like the popular queer identity explanation “not gay as in happy, but queer as in “fuck you’”. Her Augments are part of her, and part of her humanity; she volunteered for them, she owns them, and is even protective of them, viewing CBP’s invasive examination of her Augments as a kind of violation of her bodily autonomy. They’re clearly complicated for her, but they’re anything but depersonalized.

And going even further, the reason why she volunteered for them is so that she can defend humanity--and also someone she loves (Dani). They’re an extension of her sense of family, loyalty, love, and willingness to sacrifice.

And I don’t know for sure, but I imagine that Grace is basically one-of-a-kind, even among other Augments, if only because those Augmentations seem to be performed with the tech that’s on hand--salvaged Legion tech, by the sound of it, at least to start with. So the outcome depends on the parts available, the complexity and maturity of the Augmentation technology and process, and the skill & experience of the surgeons, all of which would vary over time. 


And honestly? If that doesn’t qualify as “beyond the binary”, I don’t know what does.

Some other general observations:

- Grace’s short hair is a constant throughout the post-Judgement Day scenes. As someone who started wearing their hair short as a preteen and hasn’t had hair to my shoulders since age 12, that does seem significant.

- Grace only introduces herself by name after Diego shouts “HEY LADY” in the factory before dropping an engine block on the Rev-9. Granted, most women don’t like to be addressed as “HEY LADY”, either, but it stood out to me, especially because she refused to give her name only a couple of minutes before that. Either way you read it, the line feels like it expresses some level of discomfort with or objection to that gendered statement. Maybe she finds that particular reference annoying or even offensive, but also, maybe she doesn’t really identify as a woman. She’s just... Grace.

- there were multiple times I mistook the back of her tank top for the back of a binder, even though she clearly was not binding.

- she constantly steals mens’ clothes--partly because she’s too tall for a lot of womens’ clothes around her, partly out of utility (like at the factory and CBP, where a lot of the guards are men). But also, it pleases the genderfucking queer in me quite a bit. And, I should note, when she had the option to take a female guard’s clothes at the CBP facility... she didn’t.

But ultimately, when I look at Grace, I see someone whose gender is “Warrior” or “Soldier”. And it’s so wonderful to see that so purely represented on a character we’re meant to perceive as female. So, please believe me when I say I don’t want to “take away” what Grace means for other people. 
And, for the record, I do mostly default to using she/her pronouns for Grace, because that’s how she’s canonically referred to. But just for fun--try this on for size: Using “they/them” pronouns for Grace. They (Grace) came back in time to protect Dani. It rolls off the tongue, right? It feels nice. Let’s re-try a couple of sentences from above: 


- “multiple times I mistook the back of their tank top for the back of a binder, even though they clearly weren’t binding” 


- “Grace’s Augments are about their ability to be a soldier. They were Augmented in order to hunt Terminators... Everything else is secondary to that, and their mission to protect Dani”

- “Grace only introduces themself by name after Diego shouts “HEY LADY” in the factory before dropping an engine block on the Rev-9 ... Maybe they find that particular reference annoying or even offensive, but also, maybe they don’t really identify as a woman. They’re just... Grace.”

And finally: 


Can you imagine the poor sod who tried to make fun of Grace for having a “girly” name? lmao rip

[i-want-it-all-or-nothing-at-all]

Since premiering in June, the second season of Netflix’s Queer Eye reboot has sparked critical acclaim (and renewed questions over what, if anything, we should expect from the Fab Five beyond makeovers and tear-jerker moments). Yet the new season has also sparked conversations within the trans community, questioning the show’s framing and treatment of Skyler Jay, the transmasculine subject of episode five, “Sky’s The Limit.”

While some critics reacted positively to the episode, many trans viewers saw it in mixed terms; some who have voiced criticism of the episode felt its discussion of the trans experience was very “Trans 101,” and some felt Skyler was othered by the Fab Five for things that seem very essential to his transness — like his Pride-themed décor, his affinity for youthful male attire, or by focusing on his top surgery in an invasive and clinical way.

As a trans man, I wanted to discuss concerns that have arisen within the community about the episode with Skyler himself. Below, Skyler tells them. his thoughts on the controversy, expands on experiences during filming that audiences didn’t get to see, and explains hopes that the Queer Eye episode can stand as just one stepping stone toward stories in the media where trans people are “just celebrated.”

First, I wanted to get your take on what your life has been like since the show. I’m curious to know how life has changed for you.

It’s been almost a year since we did the original filming for the show and when I had my initial surgery, which was aired in the episode. I’ve had some procedures since then as well. So really, between filming and the show airing, my life has been focused on paying for those additional surgery costs and recovering. I just got off my medical restrictions yesterday, so a good portion of my year has been spent healing.

Some have critiqued the episode for being too clinical, or feeling like the Fab Five were “othering” you. How would you respond to those critiques?

One of the things that makes me saddest about what viewers get to see is that you see so little. It makes me so sad for the world, because the questions I keep getting asked are “Are these guys really that nice? Are they really that awesome?” My response is always “No. They’re even better than what you get to see on TV.” We spent a week and then some filming, they crush it into less than an hour, and there’s so much that’s left out.

Did any of your experiences with cast members stand out in terms of their experience with trans people prior to the show?

Bobby and Karamo were actually very informed on the trans experience. I know people have come at Bobby for the “transgendered” comment at the beginning of my episode, and I re-watched and re-listened, and I really honestly can’t decipher whether he said “transgender” or “transgendered.” I know the subtitles say “transgendered,” but also, the subtitles in general in the episode are really off-kilter — they called my cat “Roma” instead of “Robot,” they spelled things incorrectly… and I know that’s something Karamo is bringing up to the Netflix people now, to rectify the kinks so people who are deaf and hard of hearing aren’t having these compromised viewing experiences. I don’t know whether that was a slip on Bobby’s part, but he and Karamo were both really informed. So was Jonathan.

Really, it was Tan and Antoni who hadn’t had a whole lot of experience with transgender individuals. I really wish this one line would have made it into the show, because it’s something I say to every person I interact with who says “you’re the first trans person I’ve met.” I always come back with, “that you know of.” And then I always explain that I may be the first openly trans person they’ve met, but we’re everywhere. To watch both Tan and Antoni’s — and many, many, many other people’s — eyes… it’s like their brain explodes for a second. They go “uh, what?” and then their whole perception of reality and how they perceive those around them shifts. I wish that had made it in there, because I know Tan has gotten a lot of flack. I felt like that entire week, I spent it with my community, with my brothers. I feel like I’m a part of this really beautiful thing.

I think people feel like I was being studied because I was educating [the Fab Five during filming]. That is how I do my work. That gift was given to me by another visible, open, activist trans man who saved my life and helped me figure myself out. So of course, I took full power knowing that the show was going to be targeted at middle-America housewives, because that’s what the first season was geared toward. I was like — “Cool, I’m going to teach some middle-America housewife moms how to care for their transgender kids when they come out by being open and understanding their kids better.”

Knowing what you did about the target audience, was the “Trans 101” approach with the Fab 5 and the show on purpose?

I would say yes, but I went Trans 101 — and then went into extra-advanced trans education with the guys and the cast and crew. I think it’s just how editing made it come out. That conversation Tan and I had was about two hours on the couch. We talked about pronouns, we talked about the different transitions that trans men and trans women can go through, we talked about non-binary and genderqueer individuals, and people of color in my community who are trans and nonbinary and the additional difficulties they face. We also talked about Russia and Jamaica and how trans people that live in those countries have refugee programs directed to them, because they could get murdered and dragged in the streets. We got really, really deep.

There’s a distinct cut in that conversation with Tan and I where he’s very composed — he’s really composed all the time — and then after I laid some really deep knowledge on him, he was crying. He did come from a very sheltered upbringing and his getting into the queer community basically started with this show. So I don’t blame him for his lack of knowledge. Instead, I very much thank him for his willingness to seek out that knowledge through me, from someone who is willing to teach.

My goal was to make him so motivated that he would go forward and be a megaphone to help our community. That’s what we need — not just trans folks standing up, we need other people to have some bit of knowledge on even a basic level of what kind of issues we face. I wish the show could be two hours. But I’m really proud of the outreach they’re already doing with trans youth. I hope that they can carry it forward and continue to help out other trans individuals in the future.

Have you kept in contact with the Fab 5?

Bobby and I are actually close and talk quite a bit. Through my second surgery, I was having issues with a caretaker not being able to come, and I freaked out and was crying and I called Bobby. He started contacting friends in the area to try to figure out what he could do — all the way from Asia, where he was at the time — to help me out because I was freaking out.

So, yes we still keep in contact, and I’m really attached to these guys. I also hope that I continue to see Queer Eye and Netflix in general produce content with visible trans people that aren’t demonized, or othered, and are just celebrated. I feel like that’s what they did with my episode and I’m really thankful for that.

What’s next for Skyler Jay?

I’ve been preparing for a lawsuit I’m currently in against the University system for the state of Georgia to get them to remove their trans healthcare exclusion, which is a big deal for the community. I also went back to school in May to finish my undergraduate degrees, and I’m in the middle of my classes and trying to do my day job as well. And now this new additional job of managing the love and support — and also the sheer outcry from the community of people reaching out looking for resources, seeking validation and seeking help, or reaching out to say thank you — it’s been really overwhelming, honestly. But in the best ways. I feel super honored and blessed that Queer Eye has gifted me this level-up in platform beyond just the cool stuff that you guys got to see on the show.

[anywhereyougothereyouare]

20170822 Dawn of the Final Day Quebec city was in the rear view mirror, and so is most of our trip. This is the last full day of our trip. Tomorrow we drive from Stowe, Vermont to the drop off point outside New York. On the road our usual sing-alongs happened until we hit the boarder of the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA! Shockingly, the boarder guards had no sense of humour and were super intimidating #sarcasm. We waited in line to be questioned. A few of us had to pay another 6$ to get our ESTAs revalidated. This seems to have been because at the border, some people's passports hands been stamped. I was lucky and got off Scott free. Next stop was the magic hat brewery which was kind of eh. I don't care for beer, and while the factory production line was cool, it wasn't realy my scene. The funky artwork there tho was good to check out. Next stop, Ben and Jerry's factory. My guess is this might have been their first factory, and it's now more of a tourist exhibit than a full production factory. The tanks and production floor seemed a bit small to do much, but it was fine. Features were a "flavour graveyard" for all the dead flavours. Each had a cute little limerick. The main building actually had some.cool historical artefacts: ancient icecream scoops, original signals and photos from the 70's, and a cool promotion they did in the past. To get people to buy icecream in the snowy Vermont winter, they had "Penny Off Per Celsius Degree Below Zero Winter Extravaganza" which was called "POPCDBZWEM". Elen amd I look fabulous in our rainbow tie dyed bj shirts :p and I did spot a reference to BJ'S pursuit of marriage equality amongst their social and ethical values (recently in Australia,  BJ has refused to serve two scoops of icecream of the same flavour until equality is passed).  There was a tour with an above average tour guide. He had a good sense of humour, but some atrocious puns I unfairly (and hilariously) blamed Millie for. The day was nearly dine, and we arrived at our camp ground: a beautifully soft grassy meadow, flanked either side by Hills and forrest. And rain. A good amount of it. Heather told us to all "stop complaining like it's acid rain" and we Bolted out of the van to set up the tents. We were trained, practices. Like a well oiled machine. Tarps out, luggage under quick cover, awning deployed, tents out... Then Flak and Jordan's tent literaly swapped and ripped their tarp XD. The rain got harder, we finished getting the tents out and done, but we were all by then soaked to the bone. I abandoned any pretence, took my shoes and socks off, left them in the van, and embraced the rain. It was wonderful! I never get to realy just bask in the rain because it's often over too quickly in Perth, or  busy during the day with work or other stuff, or (most commonly) I'm carrying precious and sensitive electronics I'm too worried about getting them wet to enjoy it. But none of those applied, so I got soaked! Elen went poking around and discovered a wide and shallow stream behind the camp site. We both waked in, and everyone else followed. In the soaking rain, ankle or knee deep in a stream... This is what I came fir, it was so much fun. Steve and Jordan, ever keen to keep their bromance aflame, stripped to their pants and went swimming. Well, tried to. Mostly they just got scraped up by the shallow rocks. I did a Kylie Minogue impression perched on my claimed rock in the middle of the stream. I spent the rest of the evening in soaked clothes not caring about the rain, and we started dinner. I've become a pretty good chef, good at delegating jobs  If someone gets too close to the stove, they get given a job. "cut onion Tim, grab some water Elen, pass the hand sanitiser Millie, find Tim a better knife kat, help me strain the pasta Steve, tell everyone it's ready to dish up Steve"! Artistic differences between Tim and I lead to his view of hard veggies winnine out (I'd have preferred soft for the sauce but oh well). And, as to be expected, it was delicious and served with parmesan cheese :) During digestion, heather spoke about the end of the trip amd how she viewed it, and how thankful she was for all of us not only being good travelers but also good friends. Then Millie and Elen sprung their trap. For the past few weeks they've gothen everyone to help contribute towards a power we had written. Weeks ago heather wrote and read us a poem about the Canadian voyagers while we visited the athabasca glacier, so we returned the favour. Millie and I had helped proof read the rather, and we each read it out in alternating verses (Elen through she might cry if she read it). It was beautiful, with some unexpectedly ingenious rhyming included! I'll put it into this blog as soon as it gets transmitted through our whatsapp group. And then we did three laps: our favourite moment, something we learnt, and something that will make us laugh for years to come. Everyone's answers were heart-warming, beautiful, sweet, hilarious, and kind. My favourite moment: That night. Walking through the rain, feeling soaked clothes, a warm stream, soft wet grass under my naked feet, not needing to care or worry about thorns, venomous animals or insects, gross water, or anything that I might need to worry about in Australia. And then cooking with friends for friends. Delegating, organizing and commanding the lot of them. The thing I learnt: I'm non-binary. I don't identify as male, and I don't identify as female. I've been unhappy for a long time with the gap between who i was trying to be and what made me happy. What this means for myself, friends, family and framily is still to be determined as I figure out how I want to live my life, but this has been a long time coming and I can make no more progress in loving the life i want to live privately. I know I've got plenty of people I can look to for help and support, that this is a journey I can only take myself, and that I'm looking forward to coming home so I can figure out how to live the life i want to live. And I'm so thankful that I was able to come out to such a beautiful and supporting group of people that night xx What will make me laugh for years to come: Zoe showed us a bogan cover of "uptown funk" called "Westie c*nt" with lyrics that go far beyond the content warning I've imposed onto this blog. It's a bit of a mood change from the last paragraph, but it's a good listen. Be warned tho that it is 100% coarse language. And I got a piggy back to my tent from Elen to cap off the night :3

[thenugking]

Have a fic about a Non Binary Warden being Non Binary

Also on AO3

Basically Sten discussing the Qunari’s views on gender, and how this affects an enby Warden. Warnings for some misgendering, but everything is okay in the end.

Griffon had visited Redcliffe once before with their parents, a diplomatic visit from the Teyrn of Highever and his family to the Arl of Redcliffe. It had been a pleasanter time; no Blight, no villagers hiding in the Chantry from zombies, no worries about whether or not the Arl was all right. Griffon’s parents still alive. But at the same time, at least killing corpses was something Griffon could understand, unlike the politics discussed by their parents and Arl Eamon, or the etiquette they were expected to follow without instructions. At least this was a fresh start, where they could maybe be themself a bit more. If they can work out how to tell their companions who they are, at all.

They finish cleaning blood from their sword and look around the camp. The group set it up a short distance away from Redcliffe village. Close enough to be able to get there in a hurry if there’s a second attack, but far enough away that they don’t have to sleep surrounded by now twice dead corpses. Most of their companions are cleaning their own weapons and preparing for bed. Sten, however, is staring right at them, frowning. Had they done something wrong? Their sword is clean and their clothes seem to be clean, and not slipping indecently off. They put down their sword and walk over, sitting down next to him. “Is something wrong? You were staring at me.”

Sten nods quickly. “I don’t understand. You look like a woman.”

Griffon freezes, their heart suddenly feeling like it’s thundering in their ears. Sten knows . He’s realised and they won’t have to work out how to tell anyone themself, or have to work up the nerve to do it themself when everyone might think they’re strange or confused or stupid. Sten’s talking to them about it now, and if he’s realised, it means people won’t think they’re lying or joking, doesn’t it?

They take a deep breath. “You mean… you mean you don’t understand how I’m…” The words are hard to find because of course they are when Griffon needs them most, because Griffon’s only ever been able to define themself in terms of what they’re not .

“You are a Grey Warden. So it follows that you can’t be a woman.”

That’s... hardly the reasoning Griffon was expecting. They weren’t a woman before being a Grey Warden either. Alistair had said there’d never been many Grey Warden women, hadn’t he? Perhaps Sten has only heard of the male ones, and assumed that there were no others. Perhaps it had nothing to do with not being a woman at all.

“What does that mean?” they ask, frowning.

Sten sighs, as if Griffon is being deliberately obtuse. “Women are priests, artisans, shopkeepers or farmers. They don’t fight.”

He’s wrong. It shouldn’t matter because Griffon’s not what he’s arguing about anyway. But he’s wrong. “A lot of women do fight,” they say instead. “I’ve met lots of female soldiers and you must have seen Leliana and Morrigan fight tonight. Andraste herself was a warrior!”

“Why would women ever wish to be men?” he says, frowning. “That makes no sense.”

And there it is. If you’re born a woman, you’re supposed to stay a woman, because why would you want to be anything else? Sten doesn’t even know, but he thinks they’re stupid anyway. “Why does anyone have to be either?” they snap back. “What if someone wishes to fight but doesn’t wish to be a man or a woman? What’s so wrong with that?”

Sten’s frown only grows. “ Do they also wish to live on the moon? That’s as attainable . ”

Griffon stares up at the moon. It’s further away than they can comprehend, obviously impossible to live on and however different they are, Qunari must know that too. What Griffon wants, what they think they are, can’t be that unobtainable. It just can’t .  “No,” they say. “You’re wrong. It’s not .”

“I don’t know what to make of you. Perhaps this is a quality of Grey Wardens I had not heard about. A person is born: qunari, or human, or elven, or dwarf. He doesn’t choose that. The size of his hands, whether he is clever or foolish, the land he comes from, the color of his hair: These are beyond his control. We do not choose, we simply are.”

Griffon never chose to be like this. They never asked for any of this confusion or hurt or abnormality but even so, it feels as much a part of them as small hands and black hair and human anatomy. And as much a part as being a warrior, and now a Grey Warden, with all its sense of belonging and acceptance, wherever you come from. Whoever you are. They glare up at Sten. “But I don’t have to be who you say I should be!” They turn and leave before they have to hear Sten’s reply. Before it gets too much and he sees them cry.

***

Griffon runs a hand through Vinsomer’s hair again, hugging their dog tight. He’s soft and warm and comforting, and blessedly free of judgements. They curl their body in towards him, concentrating on the feel of his fur beneath their hands and the sound of his tail thwacking against the ground, slowly feeling their breathing grow even again.

“Griffon?” Griffon jumps, looking up to see Leliana looking down at them, eyes wide and brow creased in, is that concern? “I came to see if you were all right,” she says, sitting down beside them.

They nod. “I… I’m sorry for making such a fuss.” A lady must always appear respectable , Mother had told them, sighing and shaking her head. And Griffon had never been what she wanted but after everything, the least they can do is try to have the manners befitting a Cousland. “I didn’t mean to get so upset, I just, I thought Sten realised that… I mean…”

“That you are not a woman?”

Griffon stares at her. Someone had realised. Sten hadn’t understood at all, but Leliana knows, somehow Leliana understands. “How…?”

Leliana smiles and places a hand on their shoulder. “You flinch every time someone addressed you as my lady, or Miss. Griffon is not a name a noble couple give their child; you clearly changed it from something else. What you said to Sten merely confirmed it.”

“And… you’re all right with that?”

“Of course! You meet all kinds of people when you’re a- a minstrel! There’s hardly anything strange about being like you.”

A warm, contented feeling is spreading through Griffon, and everything suddenly feels a lot more hopefully than it had a minute ago. “So, I’m not the only one?”

“I’ve met men born as women, women born as men, neither born as one or the other. It’s quite normal, and you are far from alone.”

They’re normal , they’re not alone and Leliana understands . “Will you help me tell the rest of the group? I mean, I want them to know, but I can’t work out how to tell them. I’d appreciate help.”

“Of course! And perhaps we can figure out a way to explain to Sten that women can fight at the same time?”

“I’d like that. Thank you.” They smile at Leliana, and she smiles back, and everything seems better than it has done in weeks, and Griffon thinks that maybe they can do this after all.

[yahooben]

'Mass Effect: Andromeda' review: A sprawling space drama that struggles to stay on target

‘Mass Effect: Andromeda’ invites you to strap in for another space opera.

“Space is big,” beloved author and interdimensional traveler Douglass Adams noted in his seminal towel-seller, “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.” “You just won’t believe how vastly, hugely, mind-bogglingly big,” he wrote, hammering home the point that when it comes to bigness, even our new president has nothing on the universe.

That size presents quite a challenge to game makers, but few have hacked away at the quandary with as much gusto as developer Bioware. The team behind the blockbuster “Mass Effect” trilogy managed to capture the epic scope of the big unknown while keeping our eyes trained on the intimate interactions between characters, a space opera in its truest — and, in terms of video games, among its best — form. So when they announced a return to their beautifully realized universe with “Mass Effect: Andromeda” ($60 for Xbox One, PS4, PC), we all got very excited indeed.

But a great deal has happened since 2012’s “Mass Effect 3” simultaneously wowed and enraged gamers; namely, “The Witcher 3,” “Fallout 4,” Bioware’s own “Dragon Age: Inquisition” and a host of other genre-blending RPGs (you could arguably toss recent greats “Horizon: Zero Dawn” and “The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild” into that mix, too). Big-budget role-playing games have blossomed in the past five years.

‘Mass Effect: Andromeda’ has the makings of a great game, but misses the mark with a number of missteps.

And unfortunately, “Mass Effect: Andromeda” picked up some unwelcome visitors on its long journey to your gaming machine. Though it has some stellar moments, “Andromeda” tries to cram too many ideas into one package, turning its obsession with the bigness of space into a crutch for uncharacteristically shoddy workmanship.

The (next) final frontier

To answer your most obvious question: no, you do not need to have played the prior “Mass Effect” games to understand what the hell is happening here. “Andromeda” tells a self-contained story featuring entirely new characters, planets and star systems, though references to elements from the original trilogy (the Citadel, the Geth, Spectre, etc.) do occasionally pop up.

The game is set roughly 600 years after the events of the original trilogy. Just as things were heating up in the Milky Way (around the “Mass Effect 2” timeframe), several giant Ark ships were launched towards the faraway heart of the Andromeda galaxy. Snuggled in cryo beds and dreaming of a new life, the adventurous souls aboard these vessels were hoping to discover habitable new worlds and plant some flags.

‘Mass Effect: Andromeda’ sees you exploring the Andromeda galaxy for a new home. But – spoiler alert – things go very wrong.

Naturally, things go sideways. You play as either Scott or Sara Ryder, a twin thrust into the role of ‘Pathfinder’ and tasked with guiding a ragtag group of aliens in a quest to find a new home. It’s all pretty standard sci-fi stuff — a bite of “Star Trek,” a nibble of “Battlestar” — but Bioware crafts a well-told tale that rises above its derivative vibe to keep you, um, engaged throughout.

Mostly, that’s done though a tweaked version of the branching narrative structure Bioware is known for. Conversation options have expanded beyond the binary Paragon/Renegade of prior games, adding flexibility and giving you a bit more agency over your particular Ryder. Despite some nasty bad guys and extremely high stakes, it’s also significantly more lighthearted than the trilogy’s dour doomsday scenario. Regardless of how you play Ryder, he (or she) is quick to joke and seems intent on keeping the joy of discovery intact.

The dialogue system isn’t as thrilling as it used to be, however. Other franchises have taken the cue and built branching narratives with greater emotional value. “The Witcher 3,” “Life is Strange” — heck, the entire Telltale Games catalog (whose Season 1 of “The Walking Dead” bested “Mass Effect 3” in most 2012 Game of the Year Awards) have pushed the envelope of branching narrative design, making each choice feel impactful. Though your tone changes based on your responses in “Andromeda,” Ryder’s playful, at time snarky attitude takes some of the gravitas out of the decision-making. You rarely break a sweat.

‘Mass Effect: Andromeda’s’ dialogue system lacks the kind of gravitas that makes games like ‘The Witcher 3’ so addictive and powerful.

Still, developing relationships, opening/closing paths, trying to get busy with a blue lady — it’s all here, and thanks to an interesting story, likable characters and great voicework by both male and female Ryders, “Andromeda” does a convincing job of turning you into Captain Kirk.

A downright uncanny job, you might say.

Valley of the Dolls

Unless you’ve been avoiding the internet for the last week, you’ve likely caught wind that gamers are, to put it mildly, displeased with the “Andromeda’s” animations, particularly its facial close-ups. And, well, yeah, the facial animations aren’t great. The game doesn’t just glide over the uncanny valley, it builds a big space house and moves right in.

I typically don’t put too much stock in this; plenty of outstanding games are kind of ugly up close (I’m looking into your lifeless eyes, “Fallout 4”). What makes it so rough here is the amount of time you spend staring at close-ups. A good third of the game is spent chatting with people and developing relationships, but when they look like broken robots, it breaks the spell. About halfway through the game, my Ryder inexplicably developed two wicked lazy eyes that lasted for a good 10 hours.

‘Mass Effect: Andromeda’s’ human characters look like dead-eyed androids.

Perhaps the increased power of modern consoles/PCs (I played on PS4) is the culprit — as the theory goes, the closer you get to reality, the deeper the valley. But as ugly as it gets for humankind, the power leads to some amazing aliens. The brutish, dinosaur-like Krogans have never looked better, and jittery eyes and smooth skin give the amphibious Salerians incredible life. I relished every chance to chat with non-humans, both to bask in Bioware’s great work and as a respite from the mannequin onslaught.

This sort of uneven delivery extends to the rest of the game’s graphics. The art design is triumphant – Issac Asimov would commend the look and feel of the game’s colorful terrain, sweeping interstellar views and massive starships – but technical glitches abound. Flickering textures are common, load times are excessive and occasional pop-in mars the stunning planetside vistas. These sorts of glitches aren’t game-breaking, but they speak to a project struggling to bear its own weight.

Humans might not look good in ‘Mass Effect: Andromeda,’ but the aliens are gorgeous.

Galaxy quest

And make no mistake: “Andromeda’s” scope is massive.

Much of the game takes place on explorable planets that are significantly bigger than the regions found in “Dragon Age: Inquisition.” You can spend hours scouring the nooks and crannies of each location from the comfort of your Nomad rover. And as you find ways to make life more hospitable, the areas open up even further.  

‘Mass Effect: Andromeda’s’ worlds are vast and beautiful.

A star map gives you free reign to explore the Heleus cluster of the Andromeda galaxy. You can only land on and explore a handful of planets, but you rarely feel hemmed in, and the desire to build outposts pushes you to approach Andromeda like a real pioneer. It’s a good hook.

But this goal is quickly buried beneath a ridiculous number of less essential Things to Do. Some are classic “Mass Effect” – your shipmates have needs, and if you want to unlock their highest-level abilities or get them into bed (perv), you’ll need to attend to those — but you pick up other, seemingly unwanted side quests with alarming ease.

Checking in on an outpost? Be careful who you talk to, because apparently every single life form in the galaxy is incapable of handling their own business. Even if they don’t have a gigantic exclamation point on their head, they’ll probably ask you to shuttle something somewhere or look into a mild, pointless drama. And you’ll feel pressed to track down every one, because you never know which insignificant-sounding rabbit hole will yield some legit XP or loot.

‘Mass Effect: Andromeda’ piles on the quests like every other RPG, but organizes them poorly.

This is fairly common to RPGs, but “Andromeda’s” flood of quests is compounded by terrible quest tracking. A Journal ostensibly keeps tabs on them, but inexplicably lists them based on where you picked them up rather than where they are located in the world. It’s a crazy way to organize quests; land on a planet and you’ll have to either scour dots on the map or rummage through your Journal to figure out what, if anything, you’re supposed to do there.  

This alone drove me nuts. I may be a real-world organizational disaster (I am a writer, after all) but this is definitely a trait I don’t want to carry into my sci-fi power fantasy.

Laser tag

On the other hand, I did get to carry lots of guns. And this is one area where “Andromeda” really fixes something.

The game does a fine job of improving and even amping up “Mass Effect’s” combat. Jump jets and a handy dash make you far more maneuverable, which is a boon since you contend with enemies in open-world locations. Skills and proficiencies can totally alter the way you play. Focus on Combat to be a Rambo, invest in Biotics to be a Jedi, stick with Tech to hurl fire and ice, or spread the wealth and be a bit of each. Deep but approachable, the system serves as a solid backend for the on-the-field action.

If there’s one thing Bioware improved for ‘Mass Effect: Andromeda’ it’s the game’s combat.

I forgot exactly how shooty “Mass Effect” was, and once you get used to the fact that you’re not playing a game quite as refined as the “Halos” and “Horizons” it attempts to ape, it falls into a pleasant rhythm. Nice touches abound, like jumping and pausing in the air for a few seconds while aiming down your sights. Experimenting with different abilities is also a snap thanks to a handy respec option, quelling the FOMO that rules most games that force to to stick with one class. It’s flexible and fun.  Bioware upped their game here, for sure.

But it isn’t perfect. The wide-open universe only yields a handful of enemy types, and none of them are particularly exciting. You have little control over your two fellow squadmates, and the weak enemy A.I. means you never need to think strategically when deciding which companions to bring into battle. I mostly stuck with the Krogan warrior because he looks cool. A baffling “auto” cover system claims that you just need to move close to an object with your gun drawn to hide behind it, but it doesn’t work very well. It just ends up getting you shot a lot, even when you think you’re safe.

You want jump jets? You’ve got jump jets.

Systems overload

“Andromeda” just doesn’t know when to quit, layering on screen after screen and system after system to make even the simplest task, like equipping a hot new weapon, painstaking.

Find a gun? You’ll need to head back up to your ship or find a “forward station” to switch your loadout, because, well, who knows. Tiny, uniform iconography turns inventory management into a slog. You know the thrill of finding and ogling a gorgeous, exciting new rifle in “Destiny?” That ain’t here.

Scanning planets for resources takes forever due to pretty but infuriatingly slow pans and zooms. Tracking down a specific resource to, for instance, craft a new helmet, is a total crapshoot. Bioware’s focus on the big picture has left a surprising number of holes in its basic RPG foundation.

They even tossed in co-op multiplayer, because it’s 2017 and I think that’s required by law now. “Mass Effect 3” toyed with this and it returns largely unchanged, as you and some pals clear out waves of increasingly stubborn baddies. It’s got its own progression system and offers a decent break from the RPG slog, though considering the core game could take a good 80 hours to complete, I’m not sure anyone needs it.

So do they need “Mass Effect: Andromeda” at all? That’s a tough call. A cool game is buried beneath “Andromeda’s” issues. When the guns are on point and you’ve exploded a Biotic combo, or when the ramifications of some difficult choice made hours ago comes back to haunt you, “Mass Effect: Andromeda” scratches that old space itch. But getting past the technical gaffes and unfriendly interface requires a great deal of patience. Space is big, indeed, but it’s supposed to be fun, too.

Platform reviewed: PS4

What’s hot: Cool story; outpost settling is a good hook; improved maneuverability; deep combat options

What’s not: Technical issues; aggravating interface; seriously uncanny valley; quest quantity over quality; dated feel

More games coverage:

‘Middle-earth: Shadow of War’ lets you lead orcish armies — and destroy them

Nintendo Switch launch games: The must-haves, the maybes and the probably nots

‘For Honor’ review: You’ll need skill to survive this online fighter

‘Horizon: Zero Dawn’ Review: Combat and storytelling shine in spectacular sci-fi epic

The $450 Analogue Nt mini brings new life to old-school NES games

‘Resident Evil 7’ review: It’s a screaming good time

Ben Silverman is on Twitter at ben_silverman.

[swipestream]

The Gift My Character Gave Me: Knowing Myself

Roleplaying can create empathy for others and provide the opportunity for self discovery.

Today’s post is a very personal one addressing self exploration through role playing. This is about a positive life change discovered through roleplay that I’d like to share.

One of the golden rules of great game groups is to encourage each person to bring their personality and unique ideas to the game. As a dominant player (who basically thought my ideas were the best) this was a hard lesson to learn but infinitely valuable to enhancing my enjoyment of games. Additionally, when I bring more of myself to my role I am more fulfilled by the experience. Through play, each person gets to highlight what is important to them and their character. In many ways, role playing can be a window to the soul.

Sometimes the things explored through roleplay and the lessons learned have ramifications that reach far out into a person’s life. Roleplaying, and my character Harrison in particular, helped me reach a literally life changing revelation.

Recognizing the Gift.

There are numerous skills I have refined through roleplay: speaking up, long term planning, problem solving, thinking outside the box. All of those are great, but that’s not why I’m writing this post. It’s self-discovery time.

At the beginning of 2018 I played in a Tales from the Loop game as Harrison, a 14 year old trouble maker, who I played only a half dozen times. He was a boy becoming a man who was struggling to find his place in the world. I wrote more than 100 pages of fiction and backstory about him. That amount of devotion to a character had never happened before and I realized I had to understand what was going on. Why did I *need* Harrison so much? Harrison was the tipping point in a major self-revelation that literally changed my life.

In role playing games I play as a fictionalized version of myself, sometimes my idealized best self, sometimes leaning deeply into my flaws and touching on the mixture of hope and tragedy that is the human condition. My characters have been tall, short, caucasian, people of color, human, daemon hosts, fat, thin, straight, gay, bisexual, happy, lonely, rich, starving, religious, agnostic, and many other things. But my favorite characters have shared one trait since I started playing at 6 years old, they’ve been male.

What I’m here to say is: it wasn’t just my characters who were always male. It was me. Hi, I’m Wen and I am a transgender man.

Why Tell the Gnome Stew Audience?

Role playing has been the place I have been my fullest self for the last three decades. I can walk up to any game table, introduce my character and have them accepted for who they are without question. I was accepted as *who I was* without question. That is powerful beyond my ability to express. It vented steam I didn’t know was otherwise building up in my head. Roleplaying kept me safe and gave me the outlet I needed until I was ready to face myself.

For a long time I’ve said that the highest function of role playing is the ability to create empathy through game play. What I missed was that role playing can foster deep self-exploration, the ability to not just understand or empathize with others, but to know yourself. As such, role playing as a hobby and my characters, including Harrison, have always been extremely important to me. In some ways my characters were more “me” than I was allowing myself to be.

Many players don’t need roleplaying in the way I have. Not every role player will have a revelation like mine. However some of us do. I think this it is important to highlight because it is one of the reasons that a player’s agency in their character can be so extremely important. When you play, keep in mind that you never know how close a person’s character may be to their sense of self. Removing agency in the character may feel violating to the player in ways you don’t understand. Regardless of the circumstances, to keep your players trust, don’t compromise anyone’s agency in their character without their enthusiastic prior consent.

What Can We Do Next?

For readers wondering if there is anything you can do to make life better and easier for transgender people like me, the answer is an emphatic: Yes! I’m writing this section of the article with our cisgender audience in mind, but everyone is invited to read on. These are my personal opinions and learnings but I think they are a good starting place for being an informed friend and ally.

I’m still me. While your perception may have shifted, at my core I am still the same person, and that is true of all transgender people. If you were acquaintances or friends before, there is no reason that should change. As a gamer, if your friend brought a character of a different gender to the table, I imagine you’d say okay and move on with the game. Follow that same model in real life. There isn’t any reason people should act differently (read: uncomfortably) around one another. Focus on what you have in common, just like always, and you’ll be fine.

Honest communication and education demystifies being transgender. If you don’t know what I mean when I say “transgender” or “trans” read this (for a quick refresher on terms look here). Start by doing some reading and branch out from there. Ask questions in good faith and clearly express the desire to listen, learn, and understand individual people’s perspective.

Transitioning 101. There are several kinds of transition, not every transgender person transitions in every way. A transgender person’s identity is valid regardless of a person’s ability or desire to do any of these steps. Safety comes first and each kind of transition has its own risks and costs. Internalize this fact, accept it, and please don’t judge one another about it.

Social transition can involve several possible steps like coming out to friends, family, and coworkers; using a different name, pronouns, or titles; and updating gender expression through clothing, hairstyle, make up, etc.

Legal transition can include a name change and/or updating gender markers on legal paperwork like identification cards and passports. Rules typically require some form of “proof” which may take an extended period of time to obtain.

Medical transition can include hormone therapy, voice therapy, hair removal treatments, and surgeries. Rules require varying degrees of “proof” before medically transitioning, which may take months or years to obtain. If you aren’t in a relationship with someone where you already discuss deeply personal medical matters or each other’s genitals it isn’t appropriate to ask about medical transition. If someone wants to talk to you about it let them bring it up. That’s just common courtesy.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, She/Her/Hers, They/Them/Theirs, Name Only. Together we can normalize offering and asking for each other’s pronouns. If cisgender (non-transgender) people normalize this practice people who are trans (or non-binary or genderfluid) won’t effectively have to “out” ourselves every time we meet someone new.

Start by offering your own pronouns and then asking other people’s pronouns when you meet. Opening that door for people to walk through who may not identify exactly as they appear on the surface is one of the best gifts you can give.

Offering your pronouns in online spaces like on your social media pages, dating profiles, or email signatures, also normalizes the practice and makes written communication easier. If you can take 5 minutes to do that now, that would be awesome! (Ex. He/Him/His, She/Her/Hers, They/Them/Theirs)

When asking for someone’s pronouns you can leave out the word “preferred” as in “What are your preferred pronouns?” It’s extraneous. To me saying “preferred” implies that you are humoring me instead of simply respecting me. That’s not everyone’s take, but if someone wants to let you know that their pronouns are preferred, their response can simply be “My preferred pronouns are…”

Respect a person’s name and pronouns. If a person uses a new name, use that and don’t refer to them by their birth name (often called a “dead name”). When someone calls me “ma’am” I respond with “It’s sir, thank you.” Typically people take that in stride and carry on, you can do the same. If you slip up, correct yourself and move on. If you make a big deal about apologizing it is going to make everyone uncomfortable. If you are trying to get it right no harm, no foul, I forgive you, the end.

Help others to get it right. Be clear and be consistent, but don’t make a scene. I’m okay with folks correcting other people on my behalf, that takes some of the weight off my shoulders and spreads it around. It helps me to maintain my dignity and self-respect. Ask your friends if it is alright if you do this for them too and respect their decision.

Some people do not use pronouns. In that case specifically use their name or other descriptors, honoured guest, my friend, the author.

They/Them/Theirs can feel awkward in the singular form. The Associated Press Stylebook adopted it in 2017, we are living in the future, so this is your opportunity to be a strong ally and accept change. If needed, you can read more about it here.

Be a Visible Ally and Back it Up with Your Actions. Your words matter. Your actions matter. Your votes matter. Visibility matters (that’s why I wrote this post). It is important to nurture and embrace diversity in all spaces, including gaming spaces. Wear your rainbow colored shirts, pronoun pins, and Ally ribbons at conventions and game stores. I can’t tell you how happy I was that I could always pick at least one person in the crowd wherever I was at Gen Con 2018 with a rainbow shirt on. Listen and act in good faith. If you made it this far, you’ve already taken the first step, cheers! If someone tells you their experience and you aren’t transgender, listen, believe, and value their experience. Finally, human rights need to be inclusive of people of all genders and sexual identities. However those rights are called into question and potentially being eroded even as you read this. This is the time to unite, stand up for each other, and keep each other safe by working together as allies and friends.

Final Thoughts.

I’m fortunate to have the opportunity to share my experience, and I appreciate your thoughtful consideration of this article. I cherish games and game players. I believe role playing as our common bond is a powerful force to unite people, I’ve always found my best friends through the hobby. I’ll always love and adore my characters, but now that I am myself all the time my characters have less of a burden on their imaginary shoulders. Roleplaying did its job shielding me for a long time, but it is a relief to be myself full time now.

It’s good to know you as myself beyond the game table. Wen

******* Special thanks to: Deanna, Chelsea, Ang, Senda, Rob, John, and Camdon for their advance feedback; to my game group Quincy, Derek, Jake, Senda, Camdon, and Brett; and to the creators of Tales from the Loop for unexpectedly laying the groundwork for my exploration.

The Gift My Character Gave Me: Knowing Myself published first on https://medium.com/@ReloadedPCGames

[kayawagner]

The Gift My Character Gave Me: Knowing Myself

Roleplaying can create empathy for others and provide the opportunity for self discovery.

Today’s post is a very personal one addressing self exploration through role playing. This is about a positive life change discovered through roleplay that I’d like to share.

One of the golden rules of great game groups is to encourage each person to bring their personality and unique ideas to the game. As a dominant player (who basically thought my ideas were the best) this was a hard lesson to learn but infinitely valuable to enhancing my enjoyment of games. Additionally, when I bring more of myself to my role I am more fulfilled by the experience. Through play, each person gets to highlight what is important to them and their character. In many ways, role playing can be a window to the soul.

Sometimes the things explored through roleplay and the lessons learned have ramifications that reach far out into a person’s life. Roleplaying, and my character Harrison in particular, helped me reach a literally life changing revelation.

Recognizing the Gift.

There are numerous skills I have refined through roleplay: speaking up, long term planning, problem solving, thinking outside the box. All of those are great, but that’s not why I’m writing this post. It’s self-discovery time.

At the beginning of 2018 I played in a Tales from the Loop game as Harrison, a 14 year old trouble maker, who I played only a half dozen times. He was a boy becoming a man who was struggling to find his place in the world. I wrote more than 100 pages of fiction and backstory about him. That amount of devotion to a character had never happened before and I realized I had to understand what was going on. Why did I *need* Harrison so much? Harrison was the tipping point in a major self-revelation that literally changed my life.

In role playing games I play as a fictionalized version of myself, sometimes my idealized best self, sometimes leaning deeply into my flaws and touching on the mixture of hope and tragedy that is the human condition. My characters have been tall, short, caucasian, people of color, human, daemon hosts, fat, thin, straight, gay, bisexual, happy, lonely, rich, starving, religious, agnostic, and many other things. But my favorite characters have shared one trait since I started playing at 6 years old, they’ve been male.

What I’m here to say is: it wasn’t just my characters who were always male. It was me. Hi, I’m Wen and I am a transgender man.

Why Tell the Gnome Stew Audience?

Role playing has been the place I have been my fullest self for the last three decades. I can walk up to any game table, introduce my character and have them accepted for who they are without question. I was accepted as *who I was* without question. That is powerful beyond my ability to express. It vented steam I didn’t know was otherwise building up in my head. Roleplaying kept me safe and gave me the outlet I needed until I was ready to face myself.

For a long time I’ve said that the highest function of role playing is the ability to create empathy through game play. What I missed was that role playing can foster deep self-exploration, the ability to not just understand or empathize with others, but to know yourself. As such, role playing as a hobby and my characters, including Harrison, have always been extremely important to me. In some ways my characters were more “me” than I was allowing myself to be.

Many players don’t need roleplaying in the way I have. Not every role player will have a revelation like mine. However some of us do. I think this it is important to highlight because it is one of the reasons that a player’s agency in their character can be so extremely important. When you play, keep in mind that you never know how close a person’s character may be to their sense of self. Removing agency in the character may feel violating to the player in ways you don’t understand. Regardless of the circumstances, to keep your players trust, don’t compromise anyone’s agency in their character without their enthusiastic prior consent.

What Can We Do Next?

For readers wondering if there is anything you can do to make life better and easier for transgender people like me, the answer is an emphatic: Yes! I’m writing this section of the article with our cisgender audience in mind, but everyone is invited to read on. These are my personal opinions and learnings but I think they are a good starting place for being an informed friend and ally.

I’m still me. While your perception may have shifted, at my core I am still the same person, and that is true of all transgender people. If you were acquaintances or friends before, there is no reason that should change. As a gamer, if your friend brought a character of a different gender to the table, I imagine you’d say okay and move on with the game. Follow that same model in real life. There isn’t any reason people should act differently (read: uncomfortably) around one another. Focus on what you have in common, just like always, and you’ll be fine.

Honest communication and education demystifies being transgender. If you don’t know what I mean when I say “transgender” or “trans” read this (for a quick refresher on terms look here). Start by doing some reading and branch out from there. Ask questions in good faith and clearly express the desire to listen, learn, and understand individual people’s perspective.

Transitioning 101. There are several kinds of transition, not every transgender person transitions in every way. A transgender person’s identity is valid regardless of a person’s ability or desire to do any of these steps. Safety comes first and each kind of transition has its own risks and costs. Internalize this fact, accept it, and please don’t judge one another about it.

Social transition can involve several possible steps like coming out to friends, family, and coworkers; using a different name, pronouns, or titles; and updating gender expression through clothing, hairstyle, make up, etc.

Legal transition can include a name change and/or updating gender markers on legal paperwork like identification cards and passports. Rules typically require some form of “proof” which may take an extended period of time to obtain.

Medical transition can include hormone therapy, voice therapy, hair removal treatments, and surgeries. Rules require varying degrees of “proof” before medically transitioning, which may take months or years to obtain. If you aren’t in a relationship with someone where you already discuss deeply personal medical matters or each other’s genitals it isn’t appropriate to ask about medical transition. If someone wants to talk to you about it let them bring it up. That’s just common courtesy.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, She/Her/Hers, They/Them/Theirs, Name Only. Together we can normalize offering and asking for each other’s pronouns. If cisgender (non-transgender) people normalize this practice people who are trans (or non-binary or genderfluid) won’t effectively have to “out” ourselves every time we meet someone new.

Start by offering your own pronouns and then asking other people’s pronouns when you meet. Opening that door for people to walk through who may not identify exactly as they appear on the surface is one of the best gifts you can give.

Offering your pronouns in online spaces like on your social media pages, dating profiles, or email signatures, also normalizes the practice and makes written communication easier. If you can take 5 minutes to do that now, that would be awesome! (Ex. He/Him/His, She/Her/Hers, They/Them/Theirs)

When asking for someone’s pronouns you can leave out the word “preferred” as in “What are your preferred pronouns?” It’s extraneous. To me saying “preferred” implies that you are humoring me instead of simply respecting me. That’s not everyone’s take, but if someone wants to let you know that their pronouns are preferred, their response can simply be “My preferred pronouns are…”

Respect a person’s name and pronouns. If a person uses a new name, use that and don’t refer to them by their birth name (often called a “dead name”). When someone calls me “ma’am” I respond with “It’s sir, thank you.” Typically people take that in stride and carry on, you can do the same. If you slip up, correct yourself and move on. If you make a big deal about apologizing it is going to make everyone uncomfortable. If you are trying to get it right no harm, no foul, I forgive you, the end.

Help others to get it right. Be clear and be consistent, but don’t make a scene. I’m okay with folks correcting other people on my behalf, that takes some of the weight off my shoulders and spreads it around. It helps me to maintain my dignity and self-respect. Ask your friends if it is alright if you do this for them too and respect their decision.

Some people do not use pronouns. In that case specifically use their name or other descriptors, honoured guest, my friend, the author.

They/Them/Theirs can feel awkward in the singular form. The Associated Press Stylebook adopted it in 2017, we are living in the future, so this is your opportunity to be a strong ally and accept change. If needed, you can read more about it here.

Be a Visible Ally and Back it Up with Your Actions. Your words matter. Your actions matter. Your votes matter. Visibility matters (that’s why I wrote this post). It is important to nurture and embrace diversity in all spaces, including gaming spaces. Wear your rainbow colored shirts, pronoun pins, and Ally ribbons at conventions and game stores. I can’t tell you how happy I was that I could always pick at least one person in the crowd wherever I was at Gen Con 2018 with a rainbow shirt on. Listen and act in good faith. If you made it this far, you’ve already taken the first step, cheers! If someone tells you their experience and you aren’t transgender, listen, believe, and value their experience. Finally, human rights need to be inclusive of people of all genders and sexual identities. However those rights are called into question and potentially being eroded even as you read this. This is the time to unite, stand up for each other, and keep each other safe by working together as allies and friends.

Final Thoughts.

I’m fortunate to have the opportunity to share my experience, and I appreciate your thoughtful consideration of this article. I cherish games and game players. I believe role playing as our common bond is a powerful force to unite people, I’ve always found my best friends through the hobby. I’ll always love and adore my characters, but now that I am myself all the time my characters have less of a burden on their imaginary shoulders. Roleplaying did its job shielding me for a long time, but it is a relief to be myself full time now.

It’s good to know you as myself beyond the game table. Wen

******* Special thanks to: Deanna, Chelsea, Ang, Senda, Rob, John, and Camdon for their advance feedback; to my game group Quincy, Derek, Jake, Senda, Camdon, and Brett; and to the creators of Tales from the Loop for unexpectedly laying the groundwork for my exploration.

The Gift My Character Gave Me: Knowing Myself published first on https://supergalaxyrom.tumblr.com

[anautisticdragon-blog]

Apologies From an Autist

Okay, deep breath.

This isn't telling you to take one, I just need to before I begin getting into this. It's how I write. So I'm the one doing that rather than suggesting it. I just have a lot of ground to cover, and I'm not certain that anyone will ever read this.

Sometimes I get lost in my own pain. This was true with Atypical, which just served to remind me of the callous, ignoble, and sheer disregard for autistic people that those who aren't on the spectrum can sometimes have. I think that those who I see both enjoying and supporting something as barren of ethics as Atypical though are those fortunate enough to have never experienced the myriad and diverse forms of prejudice that anyone who isn't fortunate enough to be 'normal' experiences far more frequently than they should have to.

Here's the thing, though: I don't hate you if you're neurotypical. I try to make that clear. At least I feel I've always tried to. I understand that minority ethnicities, women, gay people, and anyone who isn't 'normal' is just as likely to be targeted as I am. That's a truth that we can't avoid, really. It's a cultural mainstay of the world we live in.

What makes this worse is the kinds of truly unscrupulous individuals who push for a 'default state,' who actually craft this visage of normality? I get that some people are scared to speak out against being a part of this 'default state' because they're afraid of becoming a target. If a person racked with guilt over this sees me placing unreasonable amounts of blame on them? That might push them over the edge. I couldn't stand to have that on my conscience, you know?

So if you're a target, or if you're scared? I don't blame you. I just blame the kind of people who just genuinely enjoy being 'normal,' who lean into it as though it were some superior way of being. And I don't even hate them, I just hate the concept of 'normal' or a 'default state' in and of itself. And it's fair, I think, to judge them for loving and living it. Blissfully ignorant of their privilege.

We should all be united, frankly. Not against any person or group, I don't think, but against the very concept of 'normal,' against 'typical,' against the 'default state.' Even medical science is beginning to realise (and it's about time) that studies which are performed from the perspective of a 'normal' actually existing are tainted.

You see, 'normal' is (and I'm sorry, but it is) white, cishet, healthy, and neuronormative/neurotypical. I don't think that can really be contested. It's just that these are the people with the numbers and power to push their own existence as a 'default state,' which makes life more miserable for everyone who isn't one of them. That's what privilege is, you understand. Yes? I hope so.

The very definition of privilege is "I am normal, I exist as part of the default state. By right of birth I'm entitled to more, to better. For that to happen there has to be those who're inferior to me, also by right of birth. I have what they don't."

And hey, guess what? There's a lot of us who aren't 'normal,' who aren't the 'default state.' And what I see is that there's absolutely no reason that any of us should be enemies. We've all been hurt enough by prejudice, fear-mongering, and hatred to the point where each and every one of us should be in a position to be able to empathise with others like us. We should be able to understand that accepting differences is vital.

It's logical, really. Why is the world the way it is? Those stricken with the 'default state' can't accept diversity or difference, it's beyond their capacity. That's not really their fault. I see it as a sickness, in many ways. I think that's a good way to put it. I think a person can be ill with normalcy.

I think the constructs of 'normal,' of the 'default state,' in and of themself are actually just another form of mental illness. It's just one that isn't recognised because so many people actually have that illness in the first place.

Consider this, too: If a person is tribal, needlessly binary, if they consider themselves as 'superior' and all those outside of themselves as 'inferior?' Is that healthy? Do you think that's good mental health?

The Alt-Right is simply an extreme version of what people who're privileged by being 'normal' have felt for the longest time. That those filthy savages who're lesser than them need to be put in their place. Why do you think Trump got into power in the United States? Those stricken with this mental illness wanted to make America 'normal' again.

Too many sub-humans, you know? Just too many blacks, too many gays, too many women with power. Gotta make it 'normal' again.

So this apology needs to be made. If I've ever hurt you with the use of NT or neurotypical? I'm sorry. I am trying to get away from that. It's just that NTs inflicted with the sickness of 'normality' are those who've hurt me the most.

Thing is? Just because you're an NT doesn't mean you're 'normal,' and it doesn't mean that you're not every bit as much a target as I am. What I will say is that -- as I've learned -- we need to stop hating fellow targets as that just fuels the strength of this sickness. We need to actually try to support one another, we need to be there.

I don't know if there's anything I can ever do for you. I doubt there is, much. I'm just another voice in the crowd, really. I don't exactly have much power. I'm happy to speak out, though. I just want this hatred between any of us who've been targeted for not being a part of the 'default state' to end.

I've spoken about this before, but... I've seen gays hating trans people for making their life as a gay person more difficult. The gay person aspires to be 'normal' by being a straight gay. It's a sickness, though, why embrace it? Similarly, I've seen trans people attack transspecies people for making their attempts at being 'normal' more difficult. Again, why are you fuelling a sickness?

We need to actually stand together on this. Just so long as anyone isn't making another person or being suffer, I think we should all stand together. Is a person with transspecies making anyone suffer by having a bodily dysmorphic disorder? Is a trans person making any gay people really suffer by having very much the same?

You're being hurt by the viral influence of that which is 'normal,' that which is the 'default state.' You shouldn't want to be normal. To be normal is to be sick. Very, very sick.

I know this is 'pulling a Godwin' but sometimes it's a useful tool. Frankly, I think it's just people who're made uncomfortable by how truthful it can be who're bothered by this. I think it's completely fair, though. As I've said so many times... If the shoe fits? So, here's the thing: Hitler thought of himself as extremely 'normal,' the 'default state' human, superior and pure. Was he sick?

Are the Alt-Right sick? Are Neo-Nazis sick? There's one thread that connects all of these groups, every one of them is just an extreme incarnation of those who seem themselves as 'normal.'

And like I said, this has infected medicine and scientific studies. If all of the participants are white, male, straight, mentally healthy, and middle- to upper-class due to certain biases, then that's going to slant any kind of effort to find any baseline in humanity.

"Oh, your black brain isn't like a normal white man's brain. Hmm... Let's fix that with drugs!"

And that's the reality we live in. Many researchers are having to face this uncomfortable truth, that our entire medical history is effed up thanks to the cognitive biases of 'normal.' I think that if we really did pathologise 'normal,' we'd all be better off.

And that's what anyone who's ever been a target of this should do. Don't attack the person, or the group, or even hate people. Just consider the sheer pathology of 'normal' and what it drives these genuinely sick people to do.

So this is my conclusion: 'Normal' is a disease. It's one of the most deadly we've ever encountered, it's the most widespread form of utter psychosis we've ever known. It's virulent and terrible, it ruins lives.

No one should actually want to be 'normal' or of the aforementioned 'default state.' That implies a certain Borg-like homogeneity and forsaking one's individualism to become a part of some sort of hive of like minds. That's horrible. So I do judge those who just give into this sickness, because it's incredibly easy to see how harmful it is.

It's harmful to themself, it's harmful to everyone else. It's harmful to anyone they'll ultimately make a target out of.

So if you're neurotypical, and you're a target of this, and I've ever hurt you? I'm sorry. I mean that, I really do.

It's about time we figured this all out, don't you think?

[jessicakehoe]

The Underplayed Documentary Shines a Light on Gender Inequality in Electronic Music

After highlighting the issue of “diversity within the music space” in the short film Discwoman several years ago, director Stacey Lee has returned with a documentary that focuses on the routine harassment and lack of equality that women and female-identifying creatives in the world of electronic music have faced for decades. “This isn’t a new phenomenon,” says Lee when asked about the sexism, undervaluing and under-representation that’s explored Underplayed, a new documentary which was produced by Bud Light and premieres at this year’s Toronto International Film Festival on September 19. “Women have been central and instrumental to the whole birth of this industry since the beginning.”

Stacey Lee. Photograph courtesy of Underplayed

Lee’s film offers a voice to a wealth of musical talents ranging from Australian DJ, producer and singer Alison Wonderland and twin sister act Nervo to Los Angeles-based DJ and producer Tokimonsta, Niagara Falls’s Rezz and Grammy winner Suzanne Ciani. It also draws attention to trailblazers like musician and composer Delia Derbyshire.

Lee says that she was shocked at what she uncovered while working on Underplayed, particularly given this wasn’t her first production on the topic. “It was like nothing had evolved,” she says of the four years since her first project hit the screens. “If anything, some of the statistics were worse. It made me realize the urgency surrounding it.” At the core of the film is the notion that for women to gain equal footing with their male counterparts, a revolution — with all voices involved — must happen.

“It’s exceptionally complicated because you don’t want to distract from the art and the craft of what you’re doing by defining yourself as a woman,” says Lee about her documentary subjects. “At the same time, because there’s such inequity in the space, they also have a responsibility to speak up until things are right…. It’s a male responsibility, too. Women can’t be the only ones fighting for this. It’s the same as the Black Lives Matter movement. It’s shouting into an echo chamber if women are the only ones talking about this.”

FASHION spoke to four electronic acts who are part of the documentary about the trials they’ve faced, how self-expression brings them joy and what keeps them playing on.

TOKIMONSTA

courtesy of tokimonsta

“I think ingenuity is such a challenge and a gift,” says L.A.-based multi-hyphenate Jennifer Lee, who produces music and DJs under the name Tokimonsta. “It’s a quality in music that I strive for, and it keeps me on my toes.”

Lee, who grew up in a traditional immigrant household and learned how to play piano in her youth, says it wasn’t until she left for college that she could dabble in musical creation outside the works of the classical greats (all men) she had been exposed to and expected to learn.

“Growing up, I felt as if I had a lot of creative ideas, but if I ever strayed from Mozart or whatever I was playing, my family would be like, ‘What are you doing? Just stick to what you’re meant to do,’” she recalls. “I never allowed myself the opportunity to think that being creative in a different way was possible or OK. Once I decided to leave for college, it didn’t really matter what my parents thought anymore. I was on my own.”

During her first year of post-secondary studies, Lee downloaded the music production program FruityLoops (now called FL Studio) and developed the technical skills and prowess to craft the hypnotic tracks she has become known for; she points to the genres of drum & bass and West Coast rap and the work of Missy Elliott as being pivotal influences on her style. In 2015, after releasing two albums, Lee was diagnosed with Moyamoya disease, which affects arteries in the brain; she lost a host of cognitive functions and had to learn how to make music all over again.

Despite Lee’s evolution as a musical entrepreneur — she launched the record label Yung Art several years ago — and the fact that she’s self-taught, part of the sexist behaviour she has witnessed through her more than a decade-long career centres around her abilities as a creator. “There have been rumours that my boyfriend was making all my beats and he taught me everything I know,” she says. “Those rumours still exist because people don’t want to think I did it on my own. The discouraging part is that I’ve become so wrapped up in this idea that people don’t give me ownership of my music that it creates a blockage, and I feel very reluctant to work with other people. It has created some long-lasting trauma for me. But I’m growing and exiting from that, and I need to think about the art more than my ego, essentially.”

In addition to Lee learning to release her fears about collaboration, she says that familial acceptance with regard to her career has also grown; her mother now gleefully watches out for Tokimonsta mentions in the newspaper. And her mother — who was a fashion designer in the 1960s — has influenced her in terms of the style choices she makes. “She’s had a profound impact on my style,” says Lee. “She’s all about classic looks—the idea that if you have a certain style of jacket, you’ll have it for the rest of your life. I’ve always enjoyed her perspective on fashion in that way.”

TYGAPAW

courtesy of tygapaw

“I didn’t think of DJing as something I could pursue. If you don’t see yourself represented in a position, you don’t think it can be obtained.” Dion McKenzie, who goes by the moniker Tygapaw, grew up in Jamaica, and though she was exposed to music by Whitney Houston and Tina Turner growing up, the male-dominated dancehall and reggae scenes that permeated the culture left little space for women to consider themselves part of that world in the creative sense.

After moving to New York to study graphic design at Parsons School of Design, McKenzie felt emboldened to pursue the passion that had previously been denied. “I wanted to dive into learning how to play an instrument, but I wasn’t necessarily encouraged or supported when I was younger,” she recalls, noting that when she was a teen, her most potent musical memories came from hearing alternative music by bands like Nirvana and No Doubt. “I had a deep interest in the sound of an amplified guitar running through distortion,” she says.

McKenzie leaned into learning the guitar, and that eventually led to an interest in DJing. “It started when I was in a band, and my bandmate was a DJ as well,” she says. “She was fierce, and she really encouraged me. She said: ‘If you want to DJ, you should just do it. you shouldn’t put a barrier in front of yourself.’”

Since those early days, Tygapaw has become an integral part of New York’s underground music scene and beyond, although quarantine has forced her to focus more on the creation of her first full-length album than globe-trotting. “I’m enjoying the break because sometimes it can be overwhelming when you’re touring a lot and constantly in motion,” she says.

It’s hard to imagine McKenzie revelling in stillness when her music has such a propulsive quality, mixing nuances of island rhythms with driving electronic elements. the range of influences reflected in her tracks can also be seen in how she approaches dressing. “Personal style for me is all about expression and where I’m at in terms of my comfort in denouncing what society deems as conventional,” she says. “expressing myself, especially when it comes to my gender—or non-gender. There’s an evolution that’s in progress.”

The notion of progression resonates with McKenzie’s career path as well. “I create opportunities for myself, and I don’t take no for an answer,” she says. “A lot of times for Black, queer, non-binary and trans artists, that’s often the case. We create our own space and carve our own path.”

Although Tygapaw is one of the biggest names in New York nightlife, McKenzie says she was surprised to be asked to be part of the Underplayed documentary. “I’m an underground artist, Black and queer, and I also present in a certain way; I’m not high femme,” she notes. “There’s no overnight success for people who look like me; there’s a continuous work ethic — being ridiculously resilient and continuing to have a vision for yourself.”

Interestingly, McKenzie says another creative in the documentary is someone she admired as she was coming up through the touring circuit. “Tokimonsta has been an inspiration,” she says about fellow subject Jennifer Lee. “I saw her live at a festival where I was playing a smaller room, and now it’s come full circle where I’m in a documentary with her. Life is funny and interesting that way.”

And since McKenzie knows first-hand what example and encouragement can lead to, she says that the opportunity to be a voice in the film was important to her. “It’s really to empower young Black girls to know that they’re good enough. You can shine as bright as you want because you’re completely capable.”

NERVO

Photograph by by Chloe Paul

Like many of their peers, twin musical act Nervo acquired their aptitude after years of training — for them, in piano, violin and voice. Miriam and Olivia Nervo — who have recorded tracks with Kylie Minogue and Kesha and got their big break with a Grammy Award-winning song they co-wrote with David Guetta and Kelly Rowland — grew up in Australia in the musical-theatre world and haven’t stopped stealing the stage since.

“I think our singing teachers would roll over in their graves if they could hear us now,” Miriam notes with a laugh, as the pair have lent their vocal skills to pop-fuelled tunes that are a far cry from the formal arrangements they once studied. “The greatest thing about pop music is that it’s super-creative,” she says. “It’s all about breaking rules and doing what you feel.”

One gets a sense of this free-spirited nature via Nervo’s wardrobe choices — a mix that includes bodysuits, outsized tops and jackets and a selection of silky boxing shorts from Thailand. “We’ve always had fun with fashion and our hair,” says Miriam. “The best part of our job is being able to wear the best wardrobe.”

Always ones to follow their own beat, the sisters took a course in music production after several experiences of having their music “ripped off” by producers. When asked about the discrimination they’ve encountered, Miriam says: “We’ve always been around that. It’s part of being a woman in a male-dominated industry — you experience it in all aspects, from talent scouting and development to working with other artists.”

In order to shine a light on these challenges, the two were keen to be part of Underplayed; they had performed as part of the Bud Light House Party Tour and loved the experience. But they’re quick to point out that their interest doesn’t ultimately lie in shaming aggressors. “It doesn’t do us any service to name them,” says Olivia. “It’s tricky airing dirty laundry about our male counterparts in the business,” adds Miriam. “Yes, some of them haven’t been supportive or have been sexist, but our nature is to focus on the good and move forward.”

Miriam and Olivia notably used the documentary’s platform to demonstrate one women’s issue that’s still deeply under-represented in the entertainment industry: being a working mother. The pair announced their pregnancies in 2018 and avidly share the journey with fans. “That part of our lives we’re very open about,” says Miriam. “There are a lot of DJs who are fathers, but you wouldn’t know it from their social media,” adds Olivia.

Recalling the women who have influenced their musicality since they were teenagers — like Irish DJ Annie Mac and British musician Sonique as well as their relationship with music manager Amy Thomson, whom they credit as being a strong single mother — the Nervo sisters can’t help but look forward to a world with more female representation across all industries.

“I’m so optimistic for their lives,” says Miriam about her daughter’s and niece’s future. “I think women and girls these days are getting great opportunities. Society is changing.” And not a minute too soon.

CIEL

Photograph courtesy of ciel

When Toronto-based DJ, promoter and producer Cindy Li — also known as Ciel — isn’t visiting one of her favourite local shops, like vintage haunts Nouveau Riche Vintage, Public Butter and Common Sort, she’s directing her attention to not only her craft but also making the music industry a more equitable place.

Li feels that much of the problem is rooted in confidence, having experienced her own self-esteem struggles, which started when she was a young piano student. “I didn’t think I had it in me,” she recalls about making the move to create her own music after years of classical training. “Growing up in that world…there’s this idea that talent is innate. That kind of thinking is especially harmful for women because we aren’t as encouraged.”

This is something that Li has worked actively throughout her life to combat. “When I interact with women at workshops and on social media, I’m always trying to encourage them to not let fear stop them,” she says. “Anyone can make music if they want to and if they have the time and dedication.”

Though Li, who also ran a fashion blog in the 2010s, took a hiatus from the music scene for several years, she returned to nurture experimentations in sound—her tracks are melodic, intentional and uplifting—as well as encourage a new community by throwing parties with a fellow female entrepreneur. The events brought together “a queer-, woman-, POC-heavy community of people” at a time when “most lineups were 99 per cent male.” And although these parties made headway in terms of illustrating what equality in the music industry could look like, Li says that slowly, over time, she found that her influence was limited. “In the existing community—and you can see this in other cities as well—people were OK to just keep doing what they were doing.”

This was evident when Li called out a successful promoter in Toronto who until that point “had consistently booked all-male lineups and actually hadn’t booked a single woman in six years.” She recounts the experience as being something she would advise others against, even though call-out culture has become ubiquitous across industries. “It was really intense, and I don’t recommend it,” she says. “It was mentally trying for me. Leading by example is great if you have a lot of patience. Calling out will get you more immediate results but not necessarily the results you desire. A lot of times when you call someone out, they just shut down and end the project rather than trying to do better. The group that I called out stopped throwing parties. Of course, I was blamed for their disbanding. But I didn’t ask them to disband; I just criticized them for not booking women.”

In spite of this experience, Li hasn’t lost her drive to inspire others. “The way the industry looks now versus how it looked five years ago is hugely different,” she says. “There are way more women on lineups.” But she adds that with an uptick in representation comes the danger of insincerity. “I’ve been the token female DJ on an all-male lineup,” she says, noting that she’s also experienced multiple instances of payment disparity with her male peers. “For a man to say something like ‘I’m not going to play your party unless you pay me $500’ — it’s very rare for women in the industry to have that level of confidence,” she explains. “That’s a much deeper problem in examining inequality — a lot of women lack the self-confidence to compete with full gusto against their male counterparts.”

Li says that there’s much work to be done for the music industry to eliminate discrimination, highlighting the fact that female DJs are still treated differently even when it comes to accolades — for example, in the separate list rankings for top DJs and then top female DJs. “We’re trying to achieve integration and equality,” she says, adding that what it all comes down to is this: “Women need their existence to be normalized.”

This story appears in the October issue of FASHION magazine, available on newsstands from September 10th and and via Apple News + today. 

Photography by Iakovos kalaItzakIs. Styling by Ryan WeavIng. Creative direction by geoRge antonopoulos. left: Jacket, $4,930, corset, $3,830, and skirt, $1,255, andreas kronthaler for vivienne westwood. right: Jumpsuit, $2,275, vivienne westwood. necklaces and gloves, stylist’s own.

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