Evening had fallen over Manehattan. In the upscale part of town, an after-party was being held for participants and guests of the Equestrian Music Awards. The rich and famous gathered in one of the top hotels in Manehattan, the penthouse floor booming with activity as many ponies chattered between sips of wine and champagne. All kept to their own cliques, while in the background, a string quartet played classical music for the few who were paying attention.
Out on the patio, a well-dressed grey earth pony with a long black mane and tail kept to herself. She wanted nothing more than silence. She stood with her forelegs hanging over the low stone wall, with the lights of Manehattan and a glass of wine for company.
“Four years in Manehattan Musical Conservatory, multiple performances with well-known symphonies, and even playing at the Grand Galloping Gala have finally gotten me... here.” Octavia sighed, and gulped down the rest of her glass of wine. “Yet another party pandering to the rich and snobby.” She stared at her freshly-emptied glass for a few moments, then reached for her bottle to refill it.
“What’s a mare like you doing out here by herself?”
Interrupted, Octavia glanced aside to see a unicorn with a white coat and an electric-blue mane had taken a seat next to her, leaning her back up against the wall and sporting only purple sunglasses and an open white jacket. The unicorn pulled out a cigarette and lit it with a brief magical spark.
“Enjoying my privacy.” Octavia knew who the pony was - yet another celebrity who had done nothing to earn her status, but still outshone her own meager fame by far.
“Ah, same here.” The mare looked up at Octavia, flashing her a smile.
Octavia looked back out at the lights of the city. Why had she bothered coming? She knew she wasn’t going to win anything. The conversations she’d overheard were trivial, the violin player in the string quartet was too sharp, and the smoke from that unicorn’s cigarette wasn’t helping her growing headache. Would yet another night alone in her apartment really have been so bad?
“You know,” she groaned, “the point of privacy is that you’re enjoying it alone.”
“Yeah, I know. But why enjoy it alone when you can enjoy it with somebody?”
Octavia rolled her eyes. “If that’s the case, why don’t you enjoy yourself in there with all the other ponies? More must be better, right?”
“Nah, I can’t smoke in there. It’d set off the fire alarm. And besides, everyone in there sucks. They’re stuffy and boring. Actually...” A smile grew on the unicorn’s face. “Maybe I should go smoke in there. It would liven things up, at least.”
Octavia found herself giggling despite everything. “So, you must be...” She tried to recall the name she’d kept seeing on magazine covers at the grocery store lately. “DJ PON-3?”
“Vinyl Scratch,” she replied, extending her hoof to Octavia, who refused to return the gesture.
“Didn’t you win album of the year?”
“Yeah.” Vinyl let her hoof fall, seeming to realize the other mare wasn’t in a mood to shake. “I guess I’m a star now.”
“Indeed.” Octavia poured another glass of wine.
“So, what do you do?”
“I play cello for” – Octavia paused – “well, no one, actually. I fill in for groups that need a cellist while they look for full-time band members.”
“Cello? Isn’t that like an oversized violin?” Vinyl grinned.
“Ah, no, a cello is–”
“I mean, why do they make them so large? Couldn’t they make them a bit smaller so you wouldn’t have to stand up to play it? Speaking of, how do you even stand up for so long?”
Octavia was getting annoyed with the mare’s questions, not just because of how stupid they were, but also how often she heard them.
“Heh, sorry. I’m just kidding.” Vinyl got up and crushed out her cigarette.
“So, how did you make album of the year? I heard pressing play on a record player is quite the challenge,” Octavia snarked.
“Yeah, it was really hard deciding when to press it.”
They both remained silent, trying to hold in their laughter. They couldn't for long, and soon they were both laughing and smiling at each other.
“Oh, and I’m sorry also.” Octavia finally offered her hoof to Vinyl. “My name is Octavia, Octavia Melody.”
Vinyl clung to Octavia tightly. Octavia remained silent, struggling to understand. What could she say?
“Vinyl…” She wrapped her forelegs around Vinyl, who was still shuddering.
“It’s okay.” She rubbed his back, trying to calm him down. “Please…”
“I’m sorry.” Vinyl said, sniffling. As he started to regain his composure, his death-grip on Octavia’s shoulders loosened and he started to breathe more easily.
“No, it’s fine.” Octavia ran a hoof through Vinyl’s mane tenderly. She had never seen him like this.
“Tavi, are you angry?” He pulled back to look at her, but didn’t let go.
“No,” Octavia said, “but if you are not a mare, what are you?”
“A stallion. I think... I am a stallion.”
Octavia’s concerned expression shifted to one of worry and confusion. Hearing the word stallion was a bit of a shock to her. “How long have you known?”
“Nearly a year,” Vinyl said as Octavia remained silent. Though at first they had been a dull buzz, her nagging questions, doubts, worries, and fears had built up to a roar.
”I need some time to myself.” She pushed Vinyl back and got up off the sofa.
“Tavi–”
“Vinyl, please, just – let me just gather my thoughts.” Octavia dashed into the spare bedroom and slammed the door.
Vinyl fell onto his back.
“Damn it.”
The spare bedroom of their apartment was repurposed as a music studio. A majority of the room was dedicated to Vinyl, as he used the space to store crates of records, cassettes, and stacks of audio production equipment. In spite of the chaos that was Vinyl’s section of the room, a small corner was kept clean, with a luxurious rug covering the tacky shag carpeting. A large instrument case rested against the wall, holding Octavia’s most prized possession: her cello.
Octavia slammed the door behind her and fell onto her haunches, leaned her back against the door, and began to cry. Too many conflicting thoughts rushed through her mind.
How did she not know? Was she not paying enough attention? How could she not notice something that important about her- him? Oh Goddess, and they were supposed to be getting married!
Instead of focusing on her thoughts, she forced herself onto her feet and cleared the tears out of her eyes, walking to her corner of the room. She opened her cello’s case, taking the instrument and bow from their resting place inside. She stood up on her hind legs and began to warm up, playing a few long, somber notes that soon grew into a melody. The music gradually drowned out her conflicting thoughts and feelings as she played.
Vinyl was lying on his back, listening to Octavia play her cello in the next room. Hearing her play kept his mind on her. He’d finally let out his secret, and things were going to be... different. At least she hadn’t said she was going to leave him, but he couldn’t stand not knowing what was going to happen. Whenever he managed to force himself to not worry about his relationship, the only thing he could think about was what to do next.
“Where do I even begin? Do I go to a doctor? See a therapist? Ask the pharmacist for over the counter medication? Go to the insane asylum?” He sighed, staring at the ceiling. “I guess I’ll talk to Derpy about it…”
Vinyl had promised to tell her how it went, after all. He got up from the sofa and walked over to the kitchen, picked up the phone hung on the kitchen wall, and punched in Derpy’s number. After a few rings, he was redirected to her answering machine.
“Hello, this is Derpy. If this call is work-related, please call my work telephone. Otherwise, please leave a message after the beep.”
BEEP
“Hey, Derpy. It’s Vinyl…” He hesitated, fiddling with the phone’s cord. “I told her. I’ll call you later.” He hung up and went back to the living room, grabbing the pack of cigarettes he’d left on the table. He opened the glass door to the outdoor patio, leaving the door open so he could continue listening to Octavia play. Walking to the edge, he stood and rested his forelegs on the surrounding brick wall. He pulled out a cigarette and lit up, hoping for a moment’s relief. While he was only a casual listener of classical music, he appreciated the sound that only his fiancée could produce. He’d counted on the soothing melodies and rush of nicotine to take the edge off, but if anything, they only made it harder to stay calm. Each note built toward an impending crescendo, each drag urging on his eventual doom.
After crushing out his first cigarette on the brick and flicking it down to the street below, he took another and lit up again. Telling Octavia was supposed to be a release, but the tension was worse than it had ever been. While he waited for her, all he could do was smoke to keep his nerves in check.
“Vinyl...” Turning around, he saw Octavia leaning against the doorframe. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I was worried you wouldn’t like me.” Vinyl looked at the ground. “The mare you proposed to those few months ago was never a mare and…” He paused. “I lied.”
"I did say I like you because you are a mare like I have never met before.” She walked to Vinyl, cradling his face in her hooves and looking into his eyes. “But I like you for you who are, not because you are a mare.” She pressed her lips to Vinyl’s, giving him a gentle kiss.
“I love you, Vinyl Scratch, mare or not.” Octavia smiled.
“I love you too, Octavia.” He returned her smile.
“However...” She looked to the side. “It’s going to take me time to adjust.”
“I understand,” Vinyl wrapped himself around Octavia as she did the same, each holding on to the other as they allowed time to pass by.
Vinyl was sitting on the sofa in the living room, while Octavia was in the kitchen going through materials for dinner that evening.
“So, where do we go from here?” Octavia said, shuffling through a cabinet.
“I have no idea, honestly,” Vinyl sighed.
“Do you feel like heading out?” Octavia said, poking her head out of the kitchen.
“I think some fresh air would help, yeah.” Vinyl groaned, stretching as he got up from the sofa.
“One minute then,” Octavia walked over to the kitchen telephone and picked it up, punching in a number she waited for the receiver to pick up. “Hello Vidala, It’s Octavia.” She paused. “No, my mane is fine. It’s for my fiancé; he needs a bit of a touch-up and you are the first pony I would ask about this sort of thing.” She paused again. “You’re free right now?” Octavia looked over at Vinyl, smiling. “We’ll be there in twenty minutes.” Octavia hung up and walked over to Vinyl.
“So… where are you taking me?”
“I am taking you to my mane stylist. We don’t exactly know what to do next, and I think this is a good start.”
“Fair enough.” Vinyl walked to the master bedroom. “Let me get dressed before we go.”
“All right.” Octavia waited for Vinyl in the living room, wondering what he meant by dressed. She didn’t have to wait long, as Vinyl soon returned from the bedroom with his favorite hoodie, this time with his mane tucked into the back of the jacket rather than hanging down by his face.
“You look good.” Octavia was impressed how easily Vinyl could change his look, even if he had always dressed a bit more masculine.
“Thanks.”
Octavia and Vinyl emerged from the apartment building into the streets of Manehattan. Without his headphones, Vinyl’s walk was not as pleasant as usual. For the first time in a long while, the general din of the streets invaded his ears: taxis rushing past, snippets of overheard conversation, and ponies trying to yell to each other over it all. With Octavia at his side, however, he didn’t mind all the noise as much. Side by side, they walked toward the salon.
“So, where is this place?” Vinyl said, getting out yet another cigarette.
“Just a few blocks.” Octavia wrinkled her nose and looked at Vinyl with worry in her brow. “Vinyl, how many of those have you had today?”
“Um… not enough?” He lit up, continuing his regular smoking routine.
“I thought you were going to quit this year. For me.” Octavia kept a short distance between herself and Vinyl, staying clear of the noxious cloud that followed each of his puffs.
“Look.” Vinyl sighed. “I’m trying, but that tour was a major setback next to…” He stopped mid-sentence.
“Coming out?” Octavia finished.
“Yeah, that.” He looked at Octavia. “I know this is sudden, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Octavia said, trying to sound reassuring. “I just wish I’d known earlier. Perhaps things may have been easier this summer.”
“Maybe; it’s hard to say. It might have made things easier for us, but I’d still be keeping a secret from the public: that I am together with a mare, and one who is also a classical musician. Not to mention I’d still be keeping the fact that I identify as a stallion secret from my record label.”
“Does Derpy know?”
“Yeah.” Vinyl paused for a few seconds, taking in his cigarette. “I’ve been spending as much time with her as with you lately, thanks to my tour schedule. While she is a business pony first, she’s been my friend since high school. She wants what’s best for me, but at the same time has said coming out publicly could ruin my career.” Vinyl took one last hit of his cigarette, then tossed it onto the pavement. “I’ll try and make that my last one of the day.”
Octavia smiled.
After a few minutes, they finally stood in front of the salon. On the outside, it was an old brick building with two large windows displaying the inside of the shop. Stepping inside, the two were met with a minimal theme; a majority of the objects within the shop were coated in white with black and transparent accents.
A pink earth mare with a two-tone pink mane immediately noticed the two walk in. “Good to see you, Octavia.”
“Hello, Vidala. Sorry for coming to you on such short notice.”
“No worries.” She looked over at Vinyl. “Is this your fiancée?”
“Yes, this is my–” Octavia stopped herself from saying ‘future wife.’ “This is Vinyl.”
Vinyl waved. “Yo.”
“Well, you aren’t as formal as your fiancée.” Vidala laughed. “I always figured she’d end up with someone more prim, proper, sophisticated… you know, no fun. Just like her.”
“Hey!” Octavia protested.
“This way please,” Vidala trilled, giving Octavia a wink and guiding the two to one of her stations. The salon itself felt strangely empty, as the three of them were the only ponies present. Vinyl sat in the hairdresser's chair as Vidala started looking over his mane.
“Well, I didn’t expect this.” The pink mare seemed fascinated by Vinyl’s hair, and ran one of her hooves through it. “Enchanted mane dye?”
“Um…” Vinyl was a bit surprised that she was petting his mane rather than just picking up a pair of scissors – much less in front of his fiancée.
“Yeah. Did it back when I was in high school.”
“You certainly have given it good care.” She pulled away and grabbed a cover to put over Vinyl. “So, what do you want me to do?”
Vinyl honestly wasn’t sure. As if sensing his hesitation, Octavia stepped in for him. “Something masculine. I want you to give her–” she quickly corrected herself “–him, I want you to give him a more masculine style.”
Vinyl was surprised to hear Octavia referring to him by his preferred pronouns already. “I think it’d be cool if we just shorten the length, but keep some of my spikes.”
Vidala smirked. “Spikes, is it? What are you, some kind of punk singer?”
“Not exactly, I produce electronic music and tend to DJ in large venues.”
“A unicorn with an electric blue mane that specializes in electronic music.” Vidala was still going through Vinyl’s hair. “You remind me a bit of a popular celebrity. DJ PON-3, perhaps?”
“No, I’m sure that–”
“Also, you have her cutie mark,” Vidala said, cutting Vinyl off and giving him a knowing nod.
“Oh… yeah.” Vinyl reflexively tried to cover up his cutie mark with his tail, though he knew it wouldn’t do any good. Vidala had already recognized him.
“However, I can tell you’re rather different from that mare on stage.” Vidala pulled the rest of Vinyl’s mane from underneath his jacket. “So, Octavia, you didn’t tell me he was like–”
“You?” Octavia interrupted.
“Me?” Vinyl asked.
“Yes.” Vidala grabbed a pair of scissors. “I usually keep this secret from my customers, but Octavia knew me back when I was a young colt.”
Grabbing a spray bottle, she pressed the handle a few times to wet down Vinyl’s mane, making it easier to manage. “She was one of the few to remain my friend after I came back to school as Vidala.” Putting the bottle away, she pulled out a comb and brushed his messy mane. “Plus, no other stylist knows how to take care of her mane properly.”
Vinyl couldn’t respond. There are other ponies like me, he thought. I’m not the only one.
“I’ll leave you two alone.” Octavia shuffled to the entrance of the shop and sat on one of chairs, leafing through the magazines left out for waiting customers.
Vidala pulled out a pair of scissors and gave them a few midair test snips, now keeping a more minimal conversation with Vinyl. “Octavia didn’t tell me much about you, especially you being a big star and all.” Pausing, she cut off a lock of Vinyl’s mane. “But I can tell she definitely found somepony worth sticking with.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Just look at how she’s been looking at you ever since you two came in. Devoted, protective, almost motherly - but not in a weird way,” she added, glancing at Octavia. “She cares about you.”
Vinyl kept his eyes closed while Vidala did her work. This was the first time in a while he’d had his mane done by another stylist. The label had assigned him a “presentation consultant,” whom he met with before his shows, but she would do nothing more than maintain the same style to ‘preserve his artistic image.’
Vidala stopped and inspected her work, turning Vinyl around to face the mirror. Vinyl opened his eyes and blinked a few times when he saw himself.
“What do you think?” Vidala asked, passing Vinyl his glasses.
Putting them on, Vinyl turned his head in a few directions, taking a good look over his new style. It was shorter than before, but his right side still kept its longer length and maintained his signature spikes along the sides and bangs.
Vinyl stared at himself in the mirror, brushing a hoof through his short hair. After a couple of seconds, he could only manage a half-whispered "Wow."
“Wow, indeed.” Octavia walked up next to him and examined his new mane. “You really know how to work your craft, Vidala.”
“It’s nothing.” She shrugged, taking the cover off of Vinyl.
Vinyl smiled. “I like it. I like it a lot.” He rose from the chair. “How much do we owe you?”
“Fifty bits.”
“Fifty!?” Vinyl yelled. “For a manecut?”
“You should see how much Octavia spends here every month.” Vidala smirked.
Glaring at Octavia, Vinyl grabbed his wallet and pulled out a few bills. “I do appreciate it. Thank you.”
Vidala nodded while counting the money for her work. “You're welcome. Come back if you need anything in the future.” She turned and smiled at Octavia. “And I hope to see you later this month. Yes?”
Octavia nodded. “Of course.”
“See you soon, then. It was good meeting you. Vinyl.” Vidala walked over to the door and opened it for Vinyl and Octavia. They left the shop and headed back to their apartment.
The sun was beginning to set when Vinyl and Octavia returned to their apartment. Upon entering, Octavia went to the kitchen. “I’ll start dinner. Care to help, Vinyl?” she said, setting up the items she’d chosen earlier.
“Sure,” Vinyl said, walking over to the bedroom. “Just let me put my jacket away.” Midway through taking his hoodie off, he heard the doorbell ring, followed by a yell from Octavia.
“Vinyl! Are we expecting guests?” Vinyl tossed the hoodie on the floor and walked out of the bedroom.
“Not really,” he called back. "I’ll get it.”
Vinyl opened the door. Out in the hall was Derpy, with a young filly trying to hide in her tail. Derpy’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped as soon as she saw him.
“Vinyl…” Derpy said, staring at his mane.
“Yes?”
“What happened to your mane?!”
Ooh! High Style is in this!
5202011
You could say that one fic from you was a bit of inspiration.
>2nd Chapter
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>no FTM packer grinding
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I still like it! Keep up good work and the chapters coming
Finally got around to reading this, loving it so far. Let me know if you want any art for it. ;)
Typical guy. Doesn't like to spend too much on a manecut
I'm lovin' this story. Keep the chapters rolling.
Is good m80
5202454
More like "intelligent person" :D
That said, I've no idea what the going rate for bits are.
5204010
Me neither. Judging by Vinyl's reaction it's quite much.
5204010
5204268
I tend to think 1 bit = $1 American dollar
So, a $50 hair cut.
5204708
So, no wonder he got pissed...
What happened indeed. I wonder how VInyl (Record) will handle his apparently swift transition?
I'm hoping Vidala will be expanded upon. She seems like somepony to serve a significant purpose in this story.
Let love blind you to their faces,
and sweet whispers deafen to the foolishness.
Let him blossom,
dream into that bliss so dear.
For you two remain this night.
Awaiting further releases.
5208913
Slight spoiler: Vinyl is not going to be referred to as Record Scrape in this fic.
5209582
I see then. 'Twas just to distinguish.
I recognized Vidala! Vidala Swoon! I believe she was working with photo finish at some point in time? Am I wrong?
Edit: looked at picture, I am not wrong.
Looks pretty good. Imaging is throwing me a bit off, but that happens to me all the time. Can't wait to see how it progresses.
I'm confused. Vinyl seems unsure if s/he is truly a male, yet personally identifies as one, but looks and maybe sounds female enough to fool most of the world. If he had the obvious male equipment, then the whole thing should have been pretty clear early on, or at least once he started sharing a bed with Octavia. Combined with the fact that Vinyl only found out about her maleness about a year ago, and I'm wondering what's going on with that body (and it sounds like doctors were involved in this little discovery). Is he even a real "he", or more of a "she" with some "he" hiding in there awkwardly? Is there really enough "he" in there to be worth identifying as male?
By extension this limits my understanding of the stylist.
Was she a male that found out about some female bits inside him and chose to identify that way, or was some sort of surgery involved? Or was she just a feminine male that decided to go all out with it?
I'd like to see a little clarification about some of these, or at least how Vinyl found out just a year ago about being somewhat male-like, how s/he accepted that, and why she chose to become a he. Don't feel the need to dump exposition on us, but right now I feel as confused as Octavia likely does.
5227668
First off thanks for the feedback.
To make it easier to understand this is a story about Vinyl Scratch having gender dysphoria and being transgender (female to male to be exact.) While there are other stories across FIMFic with the same premise, I wanted this story to be a bit more relatable to actual trans people and introduce a more realistic trans view to not just trans readers but to non-trans readers as well.
A majority of other trans stories tend to follow the line of
"I was born in the wrong body."
"Penis. BAD."
*character gets beaten up or murdered.* etc.
I want to break these tropes and create something a bit more positive and original.
tl;dr Vinyl Scratch is transgender, and while they have the bits of a mare identifies as a stallion.
Vidala herself identifies as a mare, while in the past life (when she was a child) she was born a stallion and decided to transition to being a mare. I had another reader ask me "does she have the bits of a mare or a stallion," and for that question I respond with it doesn't matter.
The main point of this story is to introduce transgender identities in a more realistic way compared to other stories, sorry if things seem a bit confusing but if you are unclear of what's going on. Feel free to leave anymore questions in case you are confused.
5229037 Well, I guess I fit your target audience. I'm not transgender, I don't know any transgenders, and I'm quite unfamiliar with the subject at all. That might be what's confusing me, I just don't know all of what they're going through. It's making me look at it a bit too objectively to try and make sense of it. I was going for the biology approach, but apparently that's been stuffed into the attic in a cardboard box labeled "unimportant", so I hope you at least get into the psychology of it a little bit to explain why an individual would choose to identify as the gender opposite their biology.
Or, I guess you don't really have to explain that kind of stuff, since it's kind of irrelevant to what you want to do with the story. Although, I do have one question I think can be answered in story, because I'm sure Octavia will be wondering as well:
Why? If nothing else, that's the matter with the question I'd like an answer to. Doesn't even have to be soon, but I want to see it addressed before the story ends, mkay?
Also,
it actually does matter a little bit. Octavia related Vinyl's plight to the stylist's in a way that suggested their situations were the same or very similar. I'm no professional, but I'm pretty sure it's some sort of rule in literature that when something relates to the protagonist so directly it should hold some sort of significant meaning. In this case, the stylist could have been (but still can be) used to explain a few things, as she seems to have her own situation sorted out by now while Vinyl is relatively new to the life style change. Vidala could be a character that Vinyl can relate to and find a special kind of companionship. You could develop her character while telling of how transgenders are typically treated in society, then have the inspirational turn about how there's folks out there that will accept you for who you are, or something, idk.
Or this is all from my objective nature wanting concrete answers when they aren't needed. Also, it's three in the morning, so I'ma shut up now and just see where this goes. It's still confusing me somewhat, but I still find it interesting.
5230553
I can understand a new concept like gender identity being confusing, but stick around. I will be sure to make an entertaining story and will keep your suggestions in mind while I write chapter 3.
Until then, may I suggest reading this? A majority of my readers seem to be familiar with gender identity and transgender topics but it seems to be new to you. I think reading it may reduce some confusion.
Loved this chapter. Glad I finally found the time to read it. Looking forward to more!
5230553
I know I'm late, but...
Just chipping in with: there is no real "why" to gender. To show you what I mean: why do you not identify differently from what your genitals indicate?
There is no reason. It's just how people are. I might as well ask why I'm white.
5349631 If "you might as well ask why you're white", I might as well answer: because you were born white (unless you pulled a Micheal Jackson). This rule applies to gender, people are (normally) born into one half of a binary system, i.e. male or female. Each half commits a small, necessary piece of themselves to produce offspring, which is how the human race continues to exist. Both parts are important, and pretending to be the opposite gender seems wrong on a fundamental level (a lot like gays, but like gays I've learned since that comment 4 weeks ago to not really care about the necessity of reproduction in relation to the topic). Also, when somebody is clearly one gender yet claiming to be the opposite, it confounds me about how to address them.
Those are the sort of thoughts I had when I first commented on this fic. But after becoming truly aware of the transgender thing beyond being a letter in the LGBT name and realizing it doesn't directly apply to me in any way whatsoever, yet being somewhat fascinated, I've decided to stick around this story but shut up about the things I currently have no right speaking about. Besides, when I first commented I was treating this more like a traditional narrative sort of deal that I like so much (in which case that question of "why" actually would have mattered), when upon reflection I believe the author was going for more of a feel good story for people that can relate to the character or situation.
And while considering this response over the past two hours I've realized I wasn't really answering your question/point. Basically, I like labels, and gender should be pretty simple: a man is a man, a women is a women, and then there's the shemale that acts like a third wheel on a perfectly good bicycle. But as far as I know shemales typically have no choice in their biology, where as a transgender person is willingly wearing the opposite label, which just frustrates my somewhat clinical mind. For example, does a transgender person use their biologically assigned restroom/changing room, or do they use the one for their chosen identity? And if it's the latter, then what's the bloody point of having male/female labels at all if one can just arbitrarily choose to be called whatever they damn well please? (Please note: this story made me aware of the transgender thing, but aware =/= informed, which is why I'm shutting up about the subject from here on out. Also, I finally finished this response at 4 in the morning, so I may have lost a bit of focus or something.)
TL;DR: After thinking about it I've decided I don't relate to the character or situation, and since the story more likely exists as a feel good read for people who do relate rather than a traditional narrative, I have little to no right to speak up about it. So I will remain silent in future chapters.
The way to address transgender people is still a personal conundrum though. My poor labels get all confuzzled.
5350852
I started writing a thing, and it got long. Feel free to read in segments or something if this gets a bit TL;DR - because it will. What follows is intended to clarify and inform. If it sounds in places like I'm trying to "educate" or talk down to you, smack me or something. It's only supposed to be a bit of an info dump.
I'm going to start with the very last thing you said first, because it's among the quickest to answer.
If you do not know, you could always ask. It's the same way you find out someone's name (short of more formal introductions, anyway), and it's the same "I don't know how to address you" sort of thing. Most trans people I have met are happy to clear it up.
Of course, since most real-world dialogue is second-person, gendered pronouns usually don't occur at all until you're talking about someone, anyway...
It's all about that developmental biology. "Biology" means more than just "penis" or "XX/XY" (let's not even go into chromosome variations and the fact that most people never get theirs tested) in matters as complicated as the strained relationship between sex and gender.
To start with, the word "chosen" implies "choice" implies gender is one. Literally nobody I know (trans or not) ever chose their gender, and I doubt you did, either. The only choice for transgender people is whether to break social taboos by expressing their own gender instead of the role assigned by others, and those taboos are slowly beginning to wane (which is good, because the repression they spawn can be deadly in the literal sense).
Furthermore, when one says one can explain why white people are white, what is really understood is that one can biologically explain how white people are white - why is a question of motivation or existentialism, depending on the context. I could give you a biological how for trans people, too. It's not as clear yet as it could be, but the best of more than 50 years of medical study suggests it's a physical condition with a genesis in an interaction between genes and in utero conditions at certain stages of development.
It starts with the very very young fetus - up to a point, a fetus has the capacity to develop "male" or "female" traits in a wide variety of areas. The proto-genitals and the extremely early brain are star examples in this. While the difference between the finished genitals is usually obvious (intersex people being an exception, as the process which causes one proto-genital to become dominant and the other to be re-absorbed doesn't work quite properly for them), the differences between male and female brains are a little less obvious, since you can't just pop the top of someone's head off if you get them in bed (as you might do with pants).
However, there are a number of known ways in which the structure and neural activity of gendered brains differs.
The critical problem for transgender people is that the brain and the genitals undergo their development at different times. For most people, the brain and genitals are wired under the same general conditions and end up "matching" (an oversimplification, but it'll work for this particular discussion). Transgender people, however, end up with "opposite" (again, oversimplification, but it works here) wiring. The result is people like this fic's Vinyl Scratch who literally have a "male" brain and "female" genitals (not quite as much oversimplification), or the other way around. Because the genitals almost always come with an endocrine system to match (intersex and a few transgender people can be exceptions), puberty almost always occurs in the form considered "appropriate" to the genitals.
The result is gender dysphoria. The brain is male, but receives female signals from all over the body, especially from puberty onward - from genitals, from hormones, and so on. This causes a very great degree of stress (which is bad for you in a hellish number of ways), and it gets worse when social role-enforcement comes into play. Untreated, it often leads to comorbid disorders (most prominent in the Western world are depressive and anxious disorders, along with potential difficulties with sex due to receiving so many unpleasant signals when being sexually active with the "wrong" genitals), causing further problems, so it's kind of important to treat.
That leads to the question of how the heck treatment should work. When it's this clearly a medical problem, the solution is a medical one, not a psychological one (although psychotherapy comes highly recommended for the often-associated depression and anxiety), and there are three potential targets:
a) The brain.
b) The genitals.
c) The endocrine system, at least where it's producing 'sex hormones' (estrogens and androgens).
The brain is right out. We don't know how to change the brain's wiring, and even if we did, brain surgery is incredibly involved, incredibly complicated, and very, very dangerous. It also raises ethical questions, like whether it's really okay to operate on someone's brain to change who they feel they are. This just isn't an option at the moment, and if it were to become one in the future, it would remain a very poor one (in terms of both risk/reward and ethics).
The genitals are a little easier. We've been doing successful genital reassignment since some clever surgeon realized that reconstructive techniques used for helping those who had been genitally mutilated in accidents could be adapted to help transgender people too. It's complex, involved, and a bit risky, but it's an option, and one often (note: not always) required due to how problematic "wrong" genitals can be for transgender people. Ethically speaking, the taboos against it are falling apart under scrutiny, and while objections are primarily religious, they do not permeate the field of philosophy like the previous option does (and while I can also explain how the religious objection doesn't actually work, please let's not actually have that discussion here).
That leaves the endocrine system. This is the easiest target. All one has to do is combine medicines already used for a variety of things (e.g. testosterone supplements, originally intended for elderly men, estradiol, which is often given to women post-menopause, and androgen blockers like spironolactone, already used against prostate cancer relapses). We already have a good understanding of how to manipulate the endocrine system for a variety of other reasons, and we can generally do so safely. More importantly, hormone replacement therapy (as it's called) has been proven highly effective in reducing dysphoria, which brings a great deal to the table in terms of a transgender person's emotional well-being. Emotional well-being in turn leads to a better and more productive life (yes, I actually went there - happy workers are better workers, which means treating trans people is good for everyone), of course. Hormone therapy is actually effective enough that some trans people do not require genital surgery to go with it. That's good, considering costs range from "new Cadillac" to "new Rolls-Royce" (with genital surgery for trans men, like Vinyl, being several times more costly than genital surgery for trans women).
There's another advantage for hormone treatment, as well: it's very easy to measure through blood tests whether the medication is causing any other problems, and the few cases where hormone therapy could actually hurt someone (e.g. if someone who needs estrogen therapy has liver disease) are also easy to check for in advance. And even further: the physical changes caused by hormone therapy do not kick in as quickly as the emotional ones, generally speaking. If it turns out to be the wrong treatment, you'll know long before the physical changes (for trans women, the most notable, most difficult to hide being breast growth; for trans men, the development of facial and body hair and a voice "crack" resembling male puberty) become too noticeable/irreversible. It's also the cheapest option, by far.
So the current treatment consensus sets hormones as the first line of treatment, with surgery being an available second-string player. Of course, actually taking on desired social roles and expressions - usually those assigned to the "opposite sex" - is a major player here as well, considering what I said about social role enforcement earlier, but you get the idea, and this does have a bit of cultural variation to it when it comes to what those roles are.
Thus, not only is there a perfectly sensible explanation for how trans people happen, there's also a perfectly good explanation as to why hormones, social transition, and probably surgery are currently the best, and recommended, course of treatment (where possible) and how they help.
Returning to this:
In some cultures, there might as well not be one. In most, however, the question is still moot - the gender of trans people is not arbitrary. Furthermore, the most sensible trans rights laws I've read have clauses which basically say "you can pick whatever you want if you can convince us that it's appropriate, but regardless who you are, you have to pick one and stick to it as far as public bathrooms and legal identification are concerned," which seems fair enough to me. Unisex bathrooms are also a growing thing and before you ask, I'm talking about the single-toilet kind where the door locks. I could say a lot about bathrooms too, but that'd be a pretty huge digression at this point.
And now, returning to this:
mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/rsz/mlfw5155_small.png
There's basically no such thing, not as a separate entity from transgender women anyway. The sad fact is that this term for people like you describe comes from the porn industry, it is often used by people like Janice Raymond (a hilariously extreme radical feminist who believed in a literal war of the sexes) and in politics as a personal attack or general hateful invective, and it refers to transgender women in porn and street work who have developed feminine characteristics like breasts, but have not obtained genital surgery (usually, they can't afford it, or they are 'trapped' in that line of work (as so many people are, trans or not) because it is not conducive to developing other skill sets). It is slang, not a true clinical label (and hence it should bother you in that sense), and it is usually considered both derogatory and very offensive. Those more culturally-sensitive take additional offense at a word that is currently porn slang being applied to them, as it can easily be taken as implying that they are sex workers (and is often meant to).
This is a problem on more than just a personal level - trans women, especially black trans women, are often harassed by the police on suspicion they are sex workers (kinda like the "Arab = terrorist" problem the US is having). A trans woman in NYC, right this minute (at least last I checked), can be arrested and charged with prostitution if at least one condom is found anywhere on her person during a search or by casual notice (if careless), despite that trans women do, you know, buy condoms or pick them up at clinics because they have sex lives too. It's a legal and societal problem.
There are a few very, very rare cases where a person grows both female breasts and a penis without medical assistance. They're intersex, not "shemale."
It's more of a character drama, or at least that's my feeling so far (keep in mind that I've seen a lot more of this story, being an editor and friend of the author). A major point of this story is to not be like other stories on fimfiction with transgender main characters - they tend to read more like wikipedia entries, and the aim here is to be more subtle and "show"-oriented than such a direct, "tell-y" script.
If there's anything else I can clarify feel free to ask, I guess. Having a transgender best friend means I spend too much time on research when, as it turns out, it wouldn't hurt to just say "okay, cool, so are we still having coffee on our break?"
5351043
Holy crap, excellent explanation.
5351043 First of all, thank you for taking the time to type all that out for the sake of informing a stranger on the internet. It's certainly given me something to chew on for a while. I know you didn't mean for it to come off this way, but it did make me feel like an idiot and even a bit of a prejudiced jerk for not bothering to look into this stuff much at all. And I feel like I should apologize for the "shemale" thing. I swear it stemmed from ignorance, just a term I picked up at some point in my life, not at all realizing it was just a slur. I promise to be mindful of such things if I knowingly encounter a transgender person. And if I do have questions on the subject that the internet can't readily or satisfyingly provide, I'll be sure to come to you. Again, thank you for your time and information.
5351724 And you can probably just disregard all my previous comments here. It's clear now that I had no idea what I was talking about. Please forgive my needless input and carry on however you like. I still like what the story has so far. It has my attention, but I'll mind myself and stay quiet from now on.
I wish both of you a good morning and a productive day.
~Trikdom
5352878
You're welcome; glad I could help.
Aahhhh......that explains it.
Good story. It's different, and I appreciate the change.
Ohhh, so that's who Vidala is. I thought she was an OC also.
Missed a period (hue).
I'm glad Octavia is using Vinyl's preferred pronoun already. This is shaping up to be a really good story. You get a fave and a thumb from me. Looking forward to more! :)
About the trying to quit smoking, addiction is a choice:
¡If one never starts using something addictive, one cannot become addicted!
Besides, any addictive substances incapacitate:
The current most popular story on Cracked is a rape account:
She went to a party with alcohol. She heard that booze is fun. She drank herself to the point of incapacitation. Criminal scum noticed this and raped her. Incapacitating seems like a bad idea to me.
Vinyl Scratch has a problem:
Because ponies do not wear clothes, he cannot pass for a stallion. He has 3 choices:
* Use glamor-magic to look like a stallion.
* Use magic to be comfortable as a mare.
* Use magic to become a stallion.
The 1st and 2nd options are better, because as my niece reminds me, girls are clean and pure and do not poop. I an certain that Vinyl Scratch does not want to do something so icky, filthy, and disgusting as pooping. Then again, my niece says lots of things.
I kept imagining Jessica Nowack voicing Vinyl with a deeper voice. Greatly anticipating more.
I am thinking the exact same thing, Octy. Good to see that the obvious questions have been thrown out there, rather than the reader being expected to understand this kind of thing on instinct.
I like the certain subtle hints regarding Vinyl's personality. There's a suggestion in my mind that he's rather introverted despite what he does for a living, and I don't think it has anything to do with the current situation.
Also:
I have a lot of trouble seeing Derpy as a manager, but that line alone cemented it. I imagine the first thing on Derpy's mind now, rather than "How'd it go?", is "Crap, your career's over!"
Has transgenderism been a thing for awhile in Equestria or is it a social issue like today in America?
This is a very interesting story. I'm going to have to work through this one.
Noticed an error:
6383085
Thanks for pointing it out, fixed.
There's a double space here. Actually, after noticing this I did a search and it seems there is some inconsistency in double spacing after a sentence. With so many editors I imagine they differ in opinion.
(/nitpick)
6397028
The double spacing is something caused by Google Docs during editing, we found this later during other chapters but I guess we missed a few early on. Thanks for catching it.