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Short Story: Pneuma Kleptis pt.7

Pneuma Kleptis pt.7

by Lee Hulme

Read pt 1
Read pt 2
Read pt 3
Read pt.4
Read pt.5
Read pt.6

By the time Ty awoke, Jas and Sam were swimming through reams of information, trying to decide what was relevant, what was extraneous, and what was a smokescreen.

Ty was placed immediately in front of the computer to try and recognise the patch of illusitory land he had been held at. After some squinting, he had narrowed it down to 3 that looked similar.

“Well that’s a start,” yawned Sam. Continue reading

Becoming Me: Beardy beards and the Trans Folk Who Notice Them

Before we start here let me be very, very clear – I have MANY thoughts on gender coding and stereotyping and similar such nonsense. That’s a much more intense post for another day, and I’ll happily talk about it elsewhere.

This post is my experience, so directed towards those who grew beards as a result of second puberty thanks to T hormones. But if you’re bearded and ftm, mtf, masc, femme, enby, agender, or anything else, please know that you are fantastic and valid.

This is a light-hearted post, one of the million or so things that have happened to and around this transmasc person that never seem to crop up elsewhere.

So let’s talk about beards. Specifically, let’s talk about obsessively noticing, examining, and comparing beards.

Before I even started on T hormones I wondered, well, a lot of things, but one of them was whether I’d be able to grow a beard. My Dad has had one as long as I remember. Older photos show it came in stages – from clean-shaven through sideburns through muttonchops, to finally meet in the middle, but to me, he’s always had a short, neat, trimmed, full beard. He’s the only male in the immediate family, who I regularly saw, on either side who, to me, has always had a beard, nobody else comes to mind. Continue reading

Short Story: Pneuma Kleptis pt.5

Pneuma Kleptis pt.5

by Lee Hulme

Read pt 1
Read pt 2
Read pt 3
Read pt.4

Ty opened his eyes to see a hooded figure pacing the room. Head pounding, that was all he could take in before a groan escaped his lips and the figure turned to him, hood sliding back slightly.

The face under the hood was pale and hairless, their eyes a soft, gold-flecked brown in the iris, surrounded by bloodshot red. Their teeth were straight and white as they offered something that was half-smile, half-grimace. When they spoke, their voice was lyrical, lightly accented, and hypnotic. Ty’s headache faded on the first syllable.

“I warned you to stop,” they sighed.

“You really thought that crap would work?” Ty asked.

They sighed again, “I hoped it would. Once upon a time, it would have. I suppose I’ve spent too little time around people, the last few generations. You’ve changed faster than I expected.” Continue reading