Julian Rockshaw; District Three

Appearance

He was born Julian Rockshaw
Fourteen years ago, on June 25th
In the heart of District Three
For the first few years, his father couldn't look
At the son he had deemed a failure
But his mother always said
"Jules, one day you'll dance far away from here."

The boy isn't handsome. As his father would say after downing his favorite mix, he would sneer at the child and pull out the words slowly.

He isn't even close to handsome.

With bright baby blue eyes and a mess of blond locks, Julian is what you would describe as pretty. A pretty boy. A weak boy.

He was forced to wear his hair above his shoulders for a long time now, because every single time they passed those bony little shoulderblades, somebody would cry "Oh, sir, your girl is adorable!". They would simply walk on, but he could feel the shame radiating off his father.

But it's not like it's his fault.

"I have a disgrace as a son, Karen!"
"He isn't a disgrace, he is a gift because he is special."

Julian has a slight frame, slender and born with a dancer's grace. His features are soft and feminine, glowing with an innocent light that people are drawn to. Pale skin, gentle eyes, they would never know he was his family's boy. And that suited the head of the household just fine.

Because his parents were well off, he could dress however he liked. A strangely good eye for fashion, Julian coats himself in impressive colours and accessories, his short stature embellished with subtle things that make him sparkle in the sunlight.

Any musculature he owns is hidden under these fabrics, where all that remains is a form that's decidedly unsure what gender it is. His friends call him beautiful, and it makes his white teeth appear from his pale lips, a stunning mix with bright eyes that shine in happiness; because that's all he wants. He doesn't need to be handsome if he can be beautiful.

It was always the little things
Like wondering which bathroom to use
Or not knowing whether to correct people
On which gender they called him by
Clued Julian into the fact
That he was different

Personality

Quietly spoken, Jules is a kind boy. His father tries to teach him to be more rigid, more strict with his mannerisms, but he can't be mean. Everytime he tries he bursts into tears, leaving the head of the household to walk away in exasperation and mix up another of his favorite drinks.

A face that looks much younger than he is, people are always surprised to hear soft wisdom in the form of a musical voice that teeters on the brink of girly. Despite his attempt to be firm he is always passed off as meek, because of his lack of confrontational skills.

Julian doesn't anger easily. However, he is deeply empathetic, and that in turn reflects off his mood if he isnt careful. Struck with heartbreak, he will most probably end up in tears along with the victim simply from scouring their eyes and delivering a soft touch or kind word.

Sometimes he wishes he could be strong, or large so that people wouldn't make his own decisions for him. So that his father could be proud and he'd live up to what he should. But then he realizes that he wouldn't have the grace he'd need to dance; and he would shatter without dancing.

"But Mama, I don't want to be an engineer. I want to dance."
"Then dance, beautiful. Dance the night away."

As is the expected in District Three, he was born with high hopes of becoming a fabled engineer, following in the footsteps of his family. But soon they realized something that seriously put a kink in their plans. If exposed to the acrid fumes too long of a factory many a worker were bent over for hours upon end, he would cough and convulse, choking furiously. This in turn made him frustrated at the whole district, and he wished he could live in the Capitol; even though he seriously disliked what they stood for.

Julian could never hate.

Though shy, his kindness still radiates outwards without words. In school he has friends that won't get too close because of his family's reputation, but he is never alone. Because his true friends are in his recital group.

When he walks through the doors to the theater, it's like his whole demeanor changes. Gone is the shy boy whose cheeks burn if you meet his gaze, and a confident stride emerges. His floating laugh turns full and rich, still in that strange, soothing voice people associate with him. Blond hair swept from his eyes, he's ready to stun the crowd.

History

As the Head of Engineering paced outside
A life was being revealed
And as the cry of a newborn pierced the hospital
The relieved mother glanced up, hair slick with sweat
"Do you hold my son or my daughter?"
For a moment the doctor was silent, before intoning softly;
"I hold both."

You see, Julian was not like other children. From the moment a hushed silence fell over the maternity ward while he screamed at the top of his lungs, his mother knew something wasn't right. So when they gave the bundle wrapped in blue cloth, she peeled away the bindings and gaped in surprise.

Julian was born a hermaphrodite.

While the mother didn't know it then, it would be a curse that would follow the young child for his life. As the father anxiously walked into the room and spied the blue blankets, he gave a huge shaking sigh.

"A boy!" he exclaimed joyously. "Come here, my son. Let me see you." But as he drew to a halt by the bed, his brows furrowed and his fingers touched what he had indeed been seeing. His expression grew shocked for a second, before turning to the doctors with an unreadable expression in his eyes; but desperation was laced within.

"Is this?..." They all nodded. "Can it be reversed?" This time, a negative.

"Your child is what they call a true hermaphrodite, Mr. Rockshaw. Both sets work perfectly, it's like the two different genders occupy one body. Irreversible." Then, his gaze softened. "But it isn't a bad thing, Kale. They're just a little bit different, that's all."

But Mr. Rockshaw was a religious man, and casting one more glance at the baby, spun on his heel and left the room without another word. Sadly the doctor offered a chart to the mother, who was left staring after her husband with a squirming newborn in her arms.

"Karen," the doctor said softly. "While the child may choose to identify differently later in life, you need to check off a gender in the birth certificate." Remembering what Kale said before he discovered the news, she wordlessly checked the little box that said Male.

"And the name?" For a second she stared into the bright blue eyes, marveling at how different her son was to her own tanned skin and chocolate orbs. Burying her face in the baby's soft skin, she sighed.

"Julian."

"Look, it's Julian! I heard that he's gay."
"Well, I heard he's not even a boy."

Growing up was difficult for him. He struggled with himself as much as he struggled with the world around him. Even though he introduced himself as a boy when he had to, his girlish features always made him embarrassed to oppose when somebody mistook him; though in truth they were half right. For a long time he didn't know that he was different, until he saw a picture of a naked girl and asked in confusion why he didn't look like that.

From then on, his mother was determined to make sure he felt comfortable in his own skin. She would enroll him in whatever he wanted to do, buy him the clothes he wanted, and watch proudly as he excelled in school. But that was never enough for Julian. Even with the good grades and great fashion and things on the side, there was always something missing, until he could put on his gear and feel complete again.

When he was four, he watched a dance in theater. In awe he watched the dancers twist and fly, gracefully completing their lines and moving the audience to tears. Once the performance was over, he leaned over and whispered;

"Mama, I want to do that." His mother smiled, imagining her dear child creating art with his body. Without hesitation, she whispered back.

"Then go right ahead."

A week later, dance classes started. He was put into Contemporary, the only boy in his class. Still he made friends with the girls as they learned how to stand and walk, point their toes and keep posture. While his father would have none of it, Julian was ecstatic. His dance instructor once pulled his mother over and said; "Jules is going to be an amazing dancer."

As he got older, his skills improved. He could leap through the air, do complicated turns and make it seem like he flowed across the land. But there was one thing he couldn't do.

He couldn't lift.

His slight frame was too weak to do the lifts required of him, and he grew frustrated. But when he was thirteen, the instructor instead proposed something else... what if Julian was the one who was lifted?

So there was another boy with straight black locks and muscular arms that gently took Julian by the waist and hoisted him high in the air. Amidst the shouting to keep posture, he grinned brilliantly, to which the boy with a soft smile returned it. He was the perfect candidate, able to keep position while making it seem effortless. So now he's the one being lifted, flying through the air with a grace that very few his age possess, still learning and improving his skills.

What he didn't tell anybody, was that he never felt safer than in the boy's arms.

"But Papa, science hurts my head!"
"I don't care! You aren't stopping because of some stupid dream of dancing!"

School was painful. He had to be the Chief Engineer's son and not Julian. Being such meant doing perfectly at everything, including science. How he loathed science. It was unfortunately, one of the most important subjects in the District. Still he slaved on, because there was one subject he hated above all else.

Gym.

Not because of the running or playing. No, with his dancer physique he could easily do that. It was the change room. He always changed in the stalls because he was afraid of the other boys seeing what he kept hidden. While one reason what obvious, there was another problem. Invisible even when a thin shirt hugged his slim form, there were tiny breasts that swelled on his chest, nothing past what a seven or eight year old might have. When he was asked to do a recital shirtless he was reassured that the crowd was far enough away and that his partner didn't care, but in here with the mounds of testosterone filled boys shifting into manhood? Up close with all of them staring, it was sure to be noticed.

And because he hadn't yet told anybody in school about his problem, that would be disastrous.

But even though his father's reputation kept most people away, there was one group that didn't shy. Two girls and one boy always accompanied him at lunch, and he could easily lose himself in trivial matters. One girl he was especially close to would often come to his house where they would run far away from the pollution and find a little hill where they gazed up at the clouds.

"Jules?" She once asked, sliding her emerald gaze to him. He gave a hum of acknowledgment.

"Are you gay?" Instead of answering, he frowned in thought. He didn't know. Maybe he looked at the boy in their group for a bit too long, or hugged him a bit too close. But that was always attributed to being simply Julian, and they just chuckled and went on their way.

"Maybe I'm both?" He said thoughtfully, turning to look at her. "I don't think love should be judged by gender, you know." Nodding once, she smiled slightly and turned back to the sky.

Because he knew first hand what it was like to be judged.


(codeword: muttations)
[Notes: Well, this one almost killed me but I'm really happy with the way he turned out. Let me know what you think!]