life from a {new} perspective :: kolt genderswap

[Deleted]

i feel the salty waves come in, i feel them crash against my skin
and i smile as i respire because i know they'll never win
there's a haze above my tv that changes everything i see
and maybe if i continue watching
i'll lose the traits that worry me

The sunlight streaming through the curtains pulls me into consciousness much sooner than I would have liked, prompting a sleepy groan and a futile effort to hide from the morning in the depths of my pillow. I haven't had a full night's sleep in Ripred-knows-how-long, constantly pulled out of bed by war councils and nighttime raids and all the other burdensome requirements of leading a ragtag army to something other than total slaughter. I lay there with my face buried in the soft cotton of my pillowcase for another few minutes, desperately wishing for sleep to visit me again, but once I'm awake it's nigh unto impossible to slip back into unconsciousness. Blinking blearily in the milky light permeating the room, I give up my few minutes of comfort and roll out of bed, hissing out a string of curses when my feet make contact with the icy floor. Colt is nothing but a wisp of dark hair poking out above a blanket-burrito, but I'm not even conscious enough to feel the cold leeching over my bare skin as I shuffle into the bathroom.

I do manage to fall asleep standing in the shower, the warm water coupled with the low light of a single candle on the sink lulling me back beneath the curtain of unconsciousness until I sway on my feet and smack my head painfully against the wall. I won't be coherent until I've ingested a large amount of caffeine, but it's nice here in the dark under the stream of warmth (thank all the gods for Bean and his tech-savvy tricks that allowed us to leech off the water main under the back yard and actually have sinks and showers that work again), and so I stay like that for a few minutes more before the hot water runs out and I quickly turn the taps to avoid a very chilly wake-up call.

The steam in the air managed to snuff the candle out while I was standing there with my eyes closed, so it's a grand affair for me to make it out of the shower, groping blindly for my towel before feeling my way to the door handle. A cloud of moisture billows into the hallway as the door swings open, the cold from outside fogging up the mirror but still letting in a bit of the ambient light from the windows at the end of the hall. Still far more tired than anyone should ever be, I fumble around for my razor before reaching up to wipe the condensation from the mirror's surface.

I scream. Loudly. Loudly, and horrifyingly high-pitched.

I've always been one for lucid dreaming, but I have to wonder what the hell happened that would make my subconscious whip this up. Staring back at me from the mirror with a horror stricken face is a very damp, surprised, and, erm... well-endowed girl. She looks a bit like Kiera in the amber of her eyes and the high cast of her cheekbones, but her hair is more of a honey-brown than Ki's chocolate, the curl of it not like that of my cousins, the strong line of her jaw completely wrong for that side of the family. I blink a few more times, wiping furiously at the not-reflection, but it only makes her stare back at me all the clearer, brow furrowing in an eerily familiar expression of irritation.

"Jesus. All right, Kae, no more pizza of a questionable age before bed," I say, shaking my head, and mirror-girl shakes hers as well. I shudder at the lulling soprano of my own hallucinated voice, and so does my not-reflection. Screwing my eyes shut, I pinch my arm, hard, telling myself that when they open again I will be nestled in a warm bed next to my boyfriend with my manhood intact. When I open my eyes, I'm still staring in my bathroom mirror at a shivering, naked, female version of myself, a bruise rapidly blooming on my arm.

I scream. Again.

"COLT. WE'VE GOT A PROBLEM."

stop there and let me correct it
i want to live my life from a new perspective
you come along because i love your face
and i'll admire your expensive taste
who cares, divine intervention

[/blockquote][/justify]

[✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ]

When I slept I was Colt
And at night I dreamed a string quartet
And then when I awoke
I found that Colt had become
Colette.

Conciousness grips me by the handle bars and tosses me out of bed when an ear splitting scream rips through the house and quite frankly, probably the whole district. In half confusion, I shreik back, higher pitched than usual, but whatever, it's the morning my voice is off. Pulling myself to my feet, and quickly pulling on a pair of boxers, I run to the source of the screaming, for some reason, all I can think about is some poor girl being tortured to death or something, because Kaelen does have a high pitched voice but not that high. I reach the bathroom, almost sliding right past the door, yesterday's socks somehow stretched on my feet making movement that much more difficult than it usually is. Catching the frame, I open my mouth to speak, and then stop, stunned. Standing in front of me, is-

I clap a hand over my eyes, heat blossoming across my face in embarrassment for the poor girl standing in front of me, who also just so happens to be completely naked. "O-o-o-oh god, sorry," I say, backing away from the door, "I....I was just looking for my boyfri-"

Odd.

My voice, just then sounded really off, like too high as if maybe I had gained a couple octaves while I slept, or maybe gone through reverse puberty. Also, just noticing, but my hands felt very soft against my cheeks, which also seemed a tiny bit too soft. I haven't shaved since yesterday. I begin to lift my hand until I remember that there is a naked girl in front of me and she's got girl parts, and that is the opposite of me and what I like anyway.

"Look, could you...would you please put on some clothes?"

[/size][/center]

[Deleted]

i feel the salty waves come in, i feel them crash against my skin
and i smile as i respire because i know they'll never win
there's a haze above my tv that changes everything i see
and maybe if i continue watching
i'll lose the traits that worry me

I can hear the telltale sound of tripping footsteps traversing the creaky floorboards of the hallway, but my eyes are still glued to the mirror in horror, my whole consciousness one long siren-scream that’s begging me to wake up and put this all in the realm of nightmares where it belongs. But even my warped mind can’t dream up something with this much truth in the details. The girl staring back at me from the polished glass, under closer examination is definitely a female Kaelen – Mom told me once that my name wouldn’t have been that different if I’d been born a girl. She and Dad had decided on Kaelynn Aurielle after the false security of a shoddy ultrasound, and had been taken aback five months later by an indisputable Kaelen Arthur. Kaelynn, as it were, looks nothing short of terrified and nothing short of me. Those are my eyes, tawny amber and dinner-plate round in shock, still smeared with last night’s eyeliner. That’s my hair, somehow grown out past my shoulders but still the same honey-brown color and thick texture, slowly air-drying into damp curls. That’s my jawline, still sharp and stubborn-angled even as it hangs agape. My lips, my nose, my facial expression. This is all mine. Without thinking, my gaze lowers for a second before I let out another horrified squeak.

Those are not my boobs. But apparently in this sick nightmare-world, they are.

“O-o-o-oh god, sorry!”

I scream again. I seem to be doing a lot of that lately. But when you wake up to a surprise sex change and then a strange, half-naked girl comes barging down your hallway, screaming is really about the only semi-sane response in a world gone mad. She’s very nice looking, this girl, though – good to know that at least I’m still a male internally – curves in all the right places and flushed, full lips peeking out from under the hand clapped over her eyes. That’s odd enough as it is, since I didn’t think girls were any more sensitive about being in states of undress around one another than guys are, but it gets a little odder after she speaks. “Look, could you… would you please put on some clothes?”

I’ve heard that voice before, maybe not specifically, but the tones are familiar, the inflections. Blinking dazedly (nope, nope, her eyes are up there, Kaelen, you still have to be a gentleman even if you’ve suddenly turned into a lady), I fumble around with a towel until it’s wrapped around me in a sort of dress-toga type affair, eventually breaking into a scowl. “Might want to take your own advice, sweetheart. Which brings me to the more important subject – what the hell are you doing in my house, and –“

Oh, no. No, no, no way in all the hells of every universe. My voice ratchets up another half-octave in terror when I manage to force it past my lips. “And why are you wearing my boyfriend’s boxers?”

Lunging forward with a honed sort of Career agility that thankfully hasn’t deserted me, I reach up (up, she’s taller than me, that’s really weird) to grab the other girl’s wrist, yanking her hand away from her face. A little different, just like mine, but there’s no mistaking it. I know those rounded, brown-black eyes, know the full lips and heavy eyebrows and lush dark waves of hair as well as I used to know my own reflection.

“Holy mother of… Colt?”

I scream for the umpteenth time. It seems like the thing to do. Must be the new influx of estrogen.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?!” I half shriek, half sob, hands gripping frantically at my far-too-long hair. “We were fine when we went to sleep last night but I got up this morning and I got out of the shower and I have tits and my hair and… oh god, my junk is gone."

Every word grows higher in pitch until I’m edging on hysterical, pacing over the cold linoleum and gesticulating wildly. “And I pinched myself because I thought I was dreaming but I can’t wake up and I thought maybe it was just me but then you come in here and just… look at you. Look at us!”

Strengthened by my panic, I lunge forward and grab LadyColt by his (her?) arm, yanking him (her?) forcefully in front of the mirror next to me. The two of us look like some distorted funhouse reflection of our former selves, the same eyes and mannerisms and states of respective horror and confusion, but significantly different anatomy from what we had when we went to sleep. I finally manage to calm my rapid breathing down to a semi-normal rate, eyes fixed on our distorted personas in the glass as I reach down and grab the hand hanging limply next to mine. It still feels like Colt’s, sort of, and I guess that’s its own comfort.

“Baby, I think it’s safe to say we’ve officially entered the Twilight Zone.”

stop there and let me correct it
i want to live my life from a new perspective
you come along because i love your face
and i'll admire your expensive taste
who cares, divine intervention

[/blockquote][/justify]