CIVILIAN . COX, COLIN

FEMALE MALE

PANSEXUAL

TWENTY-ONE

APRIL 20 1991

AMERICAN

ENGLISH, BASIC RUSSIAN LEARNED FROM HIS MOTHER AND MATERNAL GRANDPARENTS. ATTEMPTED TO LEARN ELVISH ONCE UPON A TIME; FAILED DUE TO LAZINESS.

OCCASIONALLY ANSWERS TO 'ASSHOLE' AND 'DWEEB'

0.5

CIVILIAN

N/A

N/A

N/A

ROGUE

HAYDEN GREEN
QUENTIN CHOU
CALLUM SNOW

IF JULIE DIES, THEY DIE TOGETHER. HIGH
KAGURAZAKA SHIKI from STARRY☆SKY

He hails from a lower-middle class family from Lakewood, Washington-- they've always been comfortable and never had to worry about starving, but it wasn't often that they were able to spend money on luxuries. This largely leads into a guilt complex about how expensive he is with his endocrinal treatments and future surgeries, and he tends to be quite careful with his money as a result. Except when it comes to buying books, of course. Right now, he resides in a flat in Los Angeles with his girlfriend, Juliette: it's a little cramped but they're both tiny. They don't take up a lot of space. Besides, it's nice and cozy, and the rent is cheap.

Student at Occidental College: He majors in English & Comparative Literary Studies, with a minor in Critical Theory and Social Justice. Both Social Justice Sallies and Kindle users make him cry nightly.

Bookstore worker: Colin works at a small bookstore in Downtown LA, one that sells your regular corporate publisher fare but also specialises in the pricing, purchasing, and reselling of antique books. He says he got the job to earn some extra money, but anybody that knows him knows it's really for the employee discount.

Fictional work conspiracy theorist: He enjoys predicting what is about to happen in various works of fiction using a combination of speculation and detective work, with a pretty high success rate. It earned him a pretty big following on Tumblr back in the day when he still had time for it, and sometimes he still posts his theories online to break hearts and cause feelings. Be it movies, TV shows, comic books, et cetera-- chances are Colin will be able to predict which character dies before the season is over. Books are the only thing he won't spoil for himself, really.

Tumblr nightblogger: He doesn't talk about that.

Colin is small, cute and tiny. If a friend told him that, they would likely be on the receiving end of a glare that could be the next cause of World War III, but it is undeniable that it is true-- well, the tiny part at least. From a glance at his thin, almost waifish figure, and his whopping 5'4" frame, you can easily guess that he did not exactly graduate top of his class in the Navy Seals, and was certainly not involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Qaeda. Not that he was ever involved in the U.S. Army, and neither does he have the physical ability to be, though a raised eyebrow and a sideways glance from normally soft browns could easily be some form of military warfare. Add light ash blonde hair, cut in slight layers with bangs that almost fall across one eye, with soft plump lips and a button nose, and it is easy to see why he is easily underestimated by strangers.

It isn't as though his small stature is his fault, though. He is transgender, designated female at birth, though chest binding and years of hormone therapy make it that he is easily able to pass as biologically male. Under what is usually a standard outfit of some sort of plaid shirt, jeans and Converse is a figure that can only be described as between genders. He has lost the gentle curves of a woman through treatment-induced fat redistribution, but his bone structure will always remain female. Moreover, he is still in possession of hands too slender and small, as well as a pair of breasts far too large for his liking. Over the years he has stopped seeing the discrepancy between his sex and gender as something to be ashamed of, but he is not completely comfortable with talking about it freely. Closer friends might be aware, but to people he is unfamiliar with he is tight-lipped as ever.

Those that know where to look will see small hints of vanity, or signs that he cares about his appearance more than he admits. While there is no attempt to cover the heavy eyebags on alabaster-pale skin, his Converse are always clean, and his nails are trimmed neatly. He wears contacts most of the time, with black-framed glasses only when he is in a hurry to get somewhere. A helix piercing on his right ear, hidden behind his hair.

Colin tries to be pleasant but not warm around strangers, keeping a facade of polite calmness in an attempt to disguise his true feelings. Words from him are rare, but smiles are even rarer. Though when he does smile, they are almost always genuine-- the corners of his eyes tend to crinkle, high cheekbones become even more apparent, and it is easy to see when he is truly, genuinely happy. In fact, his emotions tend to be reflected in his body language quite a bit, whether he likes it or not. He bunches his fists when angry, grits his teeth, and it is noticeable when he is taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself, even if he does his best to keep his tone neutral and his mouth flat. Similarly, sadness is reflected in slouched shoulders and dim eyes. He is easier to read than he would like to think, wearing a fragile mask of quiet pleasantries that is easily shed around people he trusts.

Some people are radiating beacons of sunshine, bringing joy, cheer and happiness to everyone they meet. Colin is not one of those people. Introverted and reserved, he would much rather spend his time reading a good book or surfing the Internet aimlessly than being a productive pillar of society or contributing to the good of humankind. Or so he likes to claim, at least: beneath the slouched shoulders, the pleasant demeanour and his seeming compliance lies a resilient, stubborn individual who will not hesitate to stand up for himself when provoked. He has a lot more courage and gumption than he has gives himself credit for, and he will not hesitate to stick his neck out for a friend when he has to.

He tends to come across as unassuming, a wallflower even. Colin dislikes loud places and large crowds, and tends to shy away from those settings, preferring the company of a few friends and a good book (or two, or three, or maybe a hundred). People tend to assume that he is nice or even boring, but beneath the layer of genial neutrality lies a harsh individual that judges everyone he meets and everything he sees. More often than not, viciously and mercilessly. Closer friends are fully aware of this side of him, and the more he lets you into his trust, the more he will make sarcastic remarks and show non-compliance. His trust is difficult to earn and easy to lose, though he likes to think that he has learned fairly good judgment when it comes to people. He isn't infallible though, and betrayals hit him harder than they would hit most. Colin does not have many friends, and the loss of one would be devastating.

He is possessive of the few that he holds close to him, wanting them to place as much faith in him as he has in them. Despite his sarcasm and brutality when it comes to people he cares about, he enjoys giving advice and helping them however he can, even if he always has the overwhelming feeling that he isn't doing enough. Are they okay? Do they need anything? How can he be there for you? This is offset by the complex he has where he doesn't feel like he should be bothering others-- he will rarely go to people first, will rarely be the person to initiate contact if someone falls out of it with him. He has a lot of pride, and fears that it will be wounded by rejection, even if it's just an 'I'm busy, maybe another time'. This is slowly starting to change, though.

You can't not more than occasionally check your phone when you've got a girlfriend, especially one that might have been the best thing to happen to you in your twenty-one years.

Don't try to push him over. He will bite back with all the passive-aggressive rage that can be mustered by a single entity. Angering him will reveal a vindictive, spiteful side of him that can hold a grudge for years. He may not be the physically strongest person on the planet, but he's starting to believe in himself a little more, day by day. And while he sometimes has the tendency to fall into pitfalls of self-absorbed angst in which he blames life's problems on his very existence, and knows that he will never be the most confident person on the planet... At least he doesn't hate the world any more.

He still has yet to fully conquer his worst enemy, however-- himself.

In a juvenile love of stories and fantastical things, Cherie and her identical twin Charlotte Cox had spun their own fantasy. Charlotte was a prince, and Cherie was a princess. There was an evil witch coming to get Charlotte. To save Charlotte, a kind wizard had turned Charlotte into a girl that looked just like Cherie, so the witch would be confused and the spell could keep them protected. Once the threat was gone, Charlotte would be turned back into a boy, the two of them could live happily ever after, but they had to be patient and hope the wizard didn't die or he'd be stuck like this forever.

For the first few years of his life, he was happy. Sure, his parents were always at work, doing their best to earn money for the young mouths at home that they had to feed, but they loved the children and he was acutely aware of it. Weekends consisted of ice cream parties or visits to the zoo, with trips to church every Sunday come rain or shine. They were just away earning money, they both said, starting piggy banks so the children could live a better life. And even at that young age, he and his siblings seemed to understand that.

So when his parents were at work, Colin learned to stay out of the way of the babysitters, and then out of the way of their brother Ivan as soon as the older boy was able to take care of himself. Their parents trusted Ivan, after all, and as the middle child of five Colin grew to respect him as well as to stay out of his way. His older brother seemed to him at the time to be a paragon of human existence, and the more acutely he came to realise that, the more resentment started to build.



Ivan was the obedient, dutiful son who always did what he was told and never caused any trouble whatsoever. Cherie was the perfect princess with a sweet smile and an easy charm that had somehow eluded him. His father constantly pressed him to question less, talk more, to just live life without constantly shying away from social situations. With each passing day he grew to realise that Ivan was perfect and Cherie was wonderful and he simply wasn't, all bits and pieces and things that didn't quite fit. So he decided that if he wasn't going to say anything good, he would just shut up. He would be the quiet, compliant child, the little girl that did what she was told, even if he didn't want to play with the other girls or boys when they were at recess. Dress-up was boring and the boys were too rough, so he took to spending breaks in the library with one or two others, poring over fantasy worlds and dreaming of a land where he could be a dashing hero, slaying dragons and rescuing princesses. This continued as the twins grew beyond elementary school and were sent packing into the harsh world of middle schoolers.

And that was when he learned that life wasn't just a fairy tale.



Children were harsh. The quiet ones got picked on. Cherie was soon assimilated into the group of popular girls, and even if she kept asking him to join them ("come on, Charlotte, it'll be fun!") he never really had any desire to. Besides, he knew they would prey on him if he didn't have his sister's divine protection, as he had seen them do to other children. His friends sat together and traded Pokémon cards sometimes, and it was around then when he started to learn that Cherie's safeguard would extend to his friends too. They could be a group of quiet nerds, but they were safe as long as Colin was at their table. Once he was gone, though, the girls could be vicious, and he hated it, hated them for giving him such a harsh push into reality.

Wizards weren't real. He wasn't a prince. He wasn't a hero. Evil was more than just a cackling green lady who stirred up potions and made evil brews. In fact, it was all around them, whether they liked it or not, and he was just going to have to suck things up and deal with his fate. That was when he was completely lost, sucked into a world of fantasy and books and the Internet and role-playing games, where he hid from the world behind a male alias and webs of what he believed to be lies. It made sense, after all. Colin felt more real than Charlotte, anyway. Colin was allowed an opinion, able to speak his mind, had long conversations with his Internet friends until four in the morning. And one day when he was thirteen he realised that what was wrong wasn't the world: it was him.



At first, it didn't quite make sense to him either. None of the things he read about transgender people seemed to add up. He wasn't a boy, even if he kind of felt like he was one on the inside-- so many of his friends were boys, but he didn't only like boy things. He liked baking for one, and who was to say that girls couldn't like video games and tales of heroes too? There was the prince thing from his childhood, but that had just been wishful thinking. It had been, it had been, it had been. But the more he read the more it made sense, and he couldn't help but hate himself for it. For the longest time he'd tried to deny it to himself, but it all seemed to add up. He felt like a boy, so he was a boy. Simple as that.

Even if society tried to tell him that he was a girl, he wasn't, and even if he didn't want to admit it he was starting to realise it was probably true. Charlotte had been a lie fabricated out of necessity, but how was he supposed to tell Cherie he had been lying to her his whole life? That he was on some fundamental level wired wrong, even more trouble than he had thought he already was? Besides, she too had been drawn into a land of lipstick and makeup and photographs hastily edited on online image software, first kisses and cell phones and paper hearts. She tried to talk to him still, she really did, but... No. He didn't want to be a burden on her. So when she asked him to promise that he wouldn't keep any secrets from her, he did, made a pinky swear on his honour with fingers crossed behind his back. Because he couldn't tell her, couldn't talk to her, couldn't talk to anyone.



To this day, Colin still doesn't know what he was thinking. Then again, he is pretty certain that everyone will come to question the life decisions that they made at fifteen. He was an emotionally turbulent teenager, to put it lightly, and he isn't proud to admit to what he had done so many years ago. The self-reproach, his constantly beating himself up, and the thought that his religious parents would never understand had hit a point where he had felt like he needed to end it all, and so he had tried. A notion completely ridiculous to him right now, especially when the vague memory of Ivan yelling, Cherie shrieking, and his mother telling everyone to keep calm, keep down, she was going to call an ambulance to take him to the hospital right away, but for now they would have to stop the bleeding, make sure he was fine.

Spoiler alert: he survived.

He still sees this as the most cowardly, stupid thing he has ever done.



His parents made him see a counselor, coughing up money they didn't have even with his vehement protests. They were convinced that he was depressed, that there was something wrong with his mental health, that he needed help. In hindsight, they were probably right, just not in the way that they had assumed. Even in therapy, he had remained silent for the longest time, refusing to say a word. What if his parents kicked him out? What if they tried to talk him out of it? But slowly, steadily, his secret was coaxed out of him, and three weeks of daily therapy sessions later he broke down crying, begging for the woman to not tell his parents, to let him handle this alone like he always had.

A therapist is obligated to tell the parents of a minor any secret if it as something that would put him under harm's way. The principle of non-maleficence came before all, and call it karma, call it whatever you wish, but she too broke her promise. Yet they reacted surprisingly well after the initial shock and flurry of questions (are you sure it's not just a phase this is a big deal is this even legal the Bible says this is wrong what will our pastor think), deciding that reluctant acceptance was the better alternative to another attempt at suicide. They signed the consent forms to hormone therapy, and let him cut his hair and start presenting as male, even if he once voiced the concern that he wasn't sure he was ready. He was afraid what his friends would think, like any teenager would-- but his father sat him down and told him that he didn't want him to die again, to face the facts, to take whatever people threw at him and to stop being such a coward.

The family stopped going to church a few months after. Colin has never questioned why.



Unfortunately, not everyone reacted as well as his parents did. He lost friends, had teachers ask him invasive questions, and when Cherie's back was turned he found that he too was now a target. Her protection could only last so far, and the rest of his high school days were spent avoiding bullies and skirting questions. But worst of all was how she acted around him now, how distant Cherie suddenly was all of a sudden. She had used to come to him for everything, to tell him all her secrets, to uphold her end of the bargain. But now all he ever got out of her was a chatty, flowery description of her day, coupled with a laugh that almost seemed genuine.

He wasn't going to prod her if she didn't want to speak to him, however; he had broken a promise to her, and he knew he would just have been absolutely livid in her shoes. Besides, the spell was broken, wasn't it? The witch had been from within him all along. The good wizard had turned him into the boy he was supposed to be. And now he was done pretending to be a physical clone of Cherie... He could see why she saw that there was no more reason for them to stay together all the time. Yet instead of being the prince to protect her, she had shielded him all this while. He had been helpless. Useless. But one thing he wasn't going to be from this point on was weak.

So he started fighting back, with words and sarcasm. He built a stone wall of calmness around him, hoping that the bullies would be unfazed by his lack of reaction. And of course he continued his literary habit, his books getting more and more esoteric by the day as he ran out of mainstream material to read. Life wasn't a fairy tale, but it didn't mean that he couldn't pretend for a few hours each day that it was. It didn't mean he couldn't try to carve his own path. When time for college applications rolled around, he knew he had to get out of state, to start anew, to leave his actions and his history behind.



The day he got his acceptance letter to Occidental offering him a full ride, he took it immediately despite getting into his top choice school, Sarah Lawrence College in Bronxville, New York. It was an easier decision than most would have thought: he'd wasted enough of his parents' money with his mere existence, and was pretty certain that he was the most expensive of his siblings with his treatments and therapy. He could bite the bullet and stay just a little closer to home, in a state where nobody would know him anyway.

His early weeks in college had been met with mixed emotions. Colin was glad for the anonymity, and the academic standards were definitely more than challenging enough. He had met one or two people he was coming to consider as friends to an extent. Yet there was still an undertone of discontentment, and the feeling that he was just a waste of space and resources still lingered. He knew it would be more harm than help to try to kill himself again, and never entertained the thought for more than a couple of seconds each time, but he constantly wished for everyone, especially Cherie's sake, that he would just disappear.



He'd met her on the Internet a few months before he'd left for college. They had been playing the same online game for years, and her screen name tended to show up late at night when he was on as well. She always beat him in games, but when they played on the same side they were an almost unstoppable team. Insults and banter gave way to late-night chats, then to him spilling his heart out, sending her a link to a private blog that contained his darkest, most shameful thoughts. Soon, she started to reciprocate with messages that contained hers.



They'd danced around each other for almost a year, using the anonymity of the Internet to form the kind of connection that he hadn't had a chance to savour since he was a child. For the longest time no real life information was traded at all except for their first names, until she let slip that she was in the Los Angeles area, and they'd half-excitedly, half-fearfully agreed to meet up. One meeting led to another, and another after that, and it had taken all the courage he had but he managed to stutter out the right words to ask her out.



That was two years ago, and they've been together ever since.



He is still the same person that he once was. He is still quiet, and still too harsh on himself. He sometimes comes home with books from his workplace instead of salary, much to his girlfriend's chagrin, and sometimes forgets to eat because he is too busy reading. But with her help, he has come to realise that he is not trouble. He is not a waste of space.

He, like everyone else, is only human.

His story is far from done, but he would like to think that they will live happily ever after.