#gynander

flag id: the top left flagh as 7 stripes, which are light turquoise, sky blue, faded purple, dark pink, faded purple, sky blue, and light turquoise. the top right flag has 5 stripes, which are dark pink, faded purple, sky blue, light turquoise, and dark pink. the bottom left flag's stripes are light red-pink, purple-pink, faded indigo, dark faded blue, faded indigo, purple-pink, and light red-pink. the bottom right flag's stripes are dark faded blue, faded indigo, purple-pink, light red-pink, and dark faded blue. end id.

banner id: a 1500x150 teal banner with the words ‘please read my dni before interacting’ in large white text in the center. end id.

gynander | gynandry androgyne | androgyny

flags for joséphin péladan's definitions of gynander and gynandry for anon, plus flags for his definitions of androgyne and androgyny to go with them!

péladan's definition of a gynander is any female person (referring to assigned gender) who takes on male/masculine traits/roles; this includes trans men and transmasculine people, butches, wlws/wsws, and early feminists who wanted equal rights. he defined gynandry as 'masculinity in female persons'.

péladan defined androgyne not in the way we know it now (as in, male+female or masc+fem), but as a male person (assigned gender) who takes on female/feminine traits/roles; this includes trans women and transfeminine people, fem(me) men, and mlms/msms. androgyny is 'feminity in male persons'.

for the gynander and gynandry flags, i used the pink from this dfab flag, purple to represent wlws/wsws, and blue and turquoise for maleness/masculinity; for the androgyne and androgyny flags, i used the blue from this dmab flag, indigo for mlms/msms, and pinks for femaleness/femininity!

Underground, there turns an Engine its spokes gird Gatrom's dark dimension. Six thousand clocks regulate and organize refined mutates that supervise an endless march of gynanders: the Nen. The Nen - whose heads are long and whose minds are deep, and sensitive, whose wet eyes blink fearfully; they tread with mounting terror through the Dreadful Arch - are born in tubes beneath tons of rock, are synthesized from perfect stock to serve, in three primary ways, their mad creator's lunatic and loud designs, which, though atrocious, stabilize the Engine's rays. An algorithm reveals the pattern: a planetary knot of never-sleep, Deokat, and its vast machine, generating that with which it's fed through artificial time, eternally increasing its complexities. Clutching tightly to each other the huddled Nen press on and shrink from tormenting whips that flay the unloved and the strays. The others look away and shudder, hurrying on, but not too fast. Though imaginative, the Nen know only well enough to hope their march reveals at last some explanation - an answer to their depth of soul with which they all were born endowed - to justify their agonies.

Deep within each Nen heart swells a growing certainty that bursts into a quiet grief as, tearfully, her trek bends left until the Engine looms, shitting out, and then devouring, all her loves again.

Her thoughts can't hide, from here, she stumbles; her arms and hands clasp to her dears, and they, in turn, cling tight to hopes draping deadly sanity with Heavens, but none in this lamenting throng can stand to stop and think for long.

They hold each other and march on. Now the whips no longer sting. All those who walk still realize that every Nen who's made soon dies, that all Nen throats are moved to sing mere coal for pointless fire.