Peridus by Moonlight
Tristan Cooper Johnson
I'm schizophrenic and it's my superpower.
Someone you would like to know. Debauched and desiring. Would you like to go to dinner with me sometime?
Tristan was born on the 4th of July 1936 at Medford Memorial Hospital in Boston, MA. Mrs Johnson had a particularly normal pregnancy and was expecting twins; a boy and a girl. She was admitted into Medford (via ambulance) but, due to complications, the girl passed away shortly after birth. She was born first (at 11:52), very quickly followed by her brother (at 12:01). They were placed in the cot together where it appeared that they were holding hands. She quickly suffered from breathing difficulties and her heart beat slowed. She died before she was named.
Growing up, Tristian was over protected by his cloying parents – they never told him about his sister, and tried to wrap him in cotton wool to prevent anything from happening to him. As he began to talk, he started to tell his parents about his imaginary friend. She was a girl, about his age. He chatted and chatted to her and, he told them, that he could even talk to her in his head. Mr and Mrs Johnson just brushed it off as an over active imagination. As he got older, however, ‘she’ didn’t go away. Tristian would still talk about her, and she seemed to age with him. He said that she understood him, and that they shared the same thoughts. His parents started to get a little worried and, when they could take the nonsense no longer, they referred him to a psychiatrist. They paid a lot of money. Tristian was diagnosed with schizophrenia. He was put on some strong drugs (chlorpromazine) that subdued him to a point that his cognitive function was significantly reduced.
He became reclusive, and rarely moved from the arm chair in the living room. What the Johnson’s were not told was that chlorpromazine increases the production of testosterone, which made Tristian’s body develop at a faster than average rate; he started puberty aged 9. Day in day out, he watched the family television, taking it all in, waiting for her to talk. But she never did. She was gone.
In early 1951, Tristian was watching the news as always, and was watching the horrors of the Korean war unfold. An advert flashed on the screen; the US Army was desperate for recruits. That’s when he knew. He waited until his parents had gone to bed, snuck carefully around the house and packed a bag, raided the saving funds and swiped his medication from the kitchen counter, slipped through the living room window… and ran. The next few weeks was a blur of paperwork and voices. He spun a web of lies. He was recruited. He was on a plane to Vietnam. That’s where the memories stop.
When it was all over, Tristian wanted to leave all of that behind and move to the UK to keep running.
He woke up with his latest lovers in his arms – a mistress, a break from his plain-Jayne fiancée. ‘This one’s a keeper,’ he couldn’t help thinking. Agreed purred he woman in his head. He carefully wrapped the naked woman up in the duvet and shifted from beneath her. He stood up too fast and all of the blood rushed from his head. Stumbling as he went, Tristian went to the bathroom. He stared at the man in the mirror. Rubbing the bruises on his neck, he grinned. It had been 3 days since his last dose, and she was coming back.
He glanced a furtive glance at the underwear on the floor. He’d spent so many years supressing her when actually she needed to be embraced. With trembling hands, he picked up the lacy bralette and placed it on his chest – the voice purred harder. He knew then, that he was not schizophrenic: he was transgender. He took this revelation very seriously, and confessed his emotions to his mistress who took it all in her stride. She had a twinkle of knowing in her eyes.
Tristan believes in true love and soul mates. He also believes, however, that your true love and your soul mate should never meet.
Tristan is engaged to a Miss Grace Forde. Miss Forde is 25, she comes from Old Money and lives in a very affluent area in Peridus. She is a size 6, 5’4", with a particularly petite frame -
probably about 98 pounds. She has silky, raven hair and plump lips. She has deep set eyes, and pale skin. She always smells amazing, like lilac and gooseberries. She always wears the bedazzled jewelled necklace that Tristan gave her. Her body is very child-like with no curves anywhere. She is very vanilla, and likes things just so. She is, however, a demon in the kitchen; she really can cook up a storm. Tristan does love her, but finds the slow, small-town life with her very plain and unfulfilling.
Tristan also keeps a mistress – Marilyn – who is the polar opposite to Grace. She is the same age as Tristan (29) and sports long wavy, brunette hair. She is 5’5", size 12 and about 112lbs with curves in all the right places. She’s womanly and beautiful, with predatory eyes. She is a beast in the sheets and Tristan likes to call her his ‘freak’. He drives her crazy with just a look. She fulfils the rest of Tristan’s life, and they are together as much as they can get away with as they are both insatiable.
Tristan is looking to embrace his inner self – a woman whom he calls Triss. At the moment, he feels like a misdiagnosed transgender. He is taking on a vigilante fight of fairness in women’s sexual wellbeing and mental health. He has been let down by the system and doesn’t want others to be in the position he found himself in as a teen. He is looking to get to know as many women as possible. Lots of notches on his bed post as it were.
“I’m not really a glass half empty or a glass half full kinda guy. I like to think that I’ve got a chance with anyone – so I guess that makes me an optimist. But I have down days as much as anyone. The meds help in keeping my perked up. I’ve got nothing really to be down about, but some days I just get to thinking about the past. Religion? A path to evil. Politics? The cause of war. My favourite colour is red; blue gives me a headache. To make a successful life you need: Love. Sex. Money. Happiness. Charisma. Intelligence. Perception. Strength. Agility. Endurance. And luck. If you worship Lady Luck, she will repay. I’m always watching, waiting, sussing people out. I wait for betrayal. To be exiled and outcast. My past keeps me from trusting people instantly. I am gentlemanly to women; I am boisterous with men. I am loud and obnoxious when I’ve been drinking. I try not to be rude. Try. I have a particular set of skills. Sex, fixing things and talking people into things. But, I am bad with money, I’m a bad influence, and I am a bad loser. I’m debauched, indulgent and pleasure-seeking, but I’m sure others might find me obnoxious and arrogant. My friends are the women I bed, and the men I buy rounds for. That’s what I have right now. But, I need to remember to work hard, play harder. Think things through, and with your head. Life’s not all about chasing c*nt.”