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Bella is seriously considering refusing to tell anyone else what her major is. Honestly. The way people flinch -
Well, no, that's not fair. She'd flinch too if she were unprotected and a subtle artist walked by. Just because most don't, in fact, casually or unintentionally read thoughts, doesn't mean that none of them do. Her tutor back home thought that her aversion to having her mind read was why her arts were set up so defensively and everything else was secondary for her.
She doesn't like the flinching, but it is fair. Maybe she'll go to the lab and scribe off a few copies of a mini fact sheet so she can hand them out when she meets people. No, that would be obnoxious.
She'll wait for it to wear off. Eventually she'll make some friends who'll know how she works. Or who are other subtle artists; she's probably more likely to make friends in classes than in the dorm, anyway.
She's not sure how she feels about the mixed-sex dorms. The rooms are singles, at least - that's why she's in Thatcher Hall, automatic single rooms for no extra charge at the price of having to maybe live next door to somebody who's not all human. There's a short list of species who qualify to be out of Harlowe and in predominantly-human Thatcher. None of them scare Bella. The orientation guide called Thatcher a "salad bowl". The junior who was wandering by at the time called it a pit.
The building looks nice. Bella's room looks nice. She unpacks her stuff and then goes back out to explore a little and encounters a stark naked man.
"Dude!" she exclaims. "Put some clothes on! This is a mixed sex hall!"
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subtly_artistic
"Yep."
subtly_artistic
"Did you receive a psionics lab consent form and understand everything on it?"
"Yep!" he says brightly.
subtly_artistic
"Do you have any questions about what I specifically will be working on today before I start?"
"Yeah, what are you gonna be working on?"
subtly_artistic
Bella doesn't even have to look at her personalized assignment sheet. "My native affinities are defensively and introspectively oriented. I will be working on paying sustained attention to your surface thoughts and emotions; ideally I'll be able to do it for five minutes at a time by the end of the lab. If you happen to think about something that you've had signposted, I'll have plenty of warning to drop out of your head before I see it, but I'll find it most useful if you think about things you don't mind me watching."
"It's not really about what I mind you watching," he says, "it's about what I think will give you nightmares. I'll do my best."
subtly_artistic
"Yeah, well, I get marked way down if I look at something signposted," says Bella. "Are you ready? It won't feel like anything, but you're still entitled to know when I start."
"Yeah, fine," he says.
subtly_artistic
"Okay." Bella puts her first two fingers to her temple; this is only for show, but since he's not going to feel anything, the show is useful. And she reaches out for the mind sitting across from her and looks at it.
The mind sitting across from her is not really thinking.
He has a deeply involved sensory experience of the world, from considerably more angles than the human one. His body, sitting comfortably in his chair and experiencing the textures of air and wood, is only a small part of it; in a slightly different direction, and almost closer to the centre, is the landscape of sexuality around him. Bella's closest, and his attention is on her more than anyone else in the room, so he feels her the most clearly. He's not getting any more from her than he alluded to earlier, but he's getting it in depth. Her sexuality is kind of vague. His perception of it is not.
And along yet another dimension, different again from the embodied self and the metaphysical/sexual self, there's his field. Or something like a field. It's a patch of ground with plants growing in it, but it's surrounded by a gated stone wall, adjoining a small house and surrounded on three sides by larger buildings. Apparently Celosia is the fertility spirit of an urban garden. It's doing pretty well; he feels contentment and restful growth from it.
After all of this comes conscious thought. But he's not really having any at the moment. The totality of his experience is enough for him; it doesn't also need a running commentary.
He has a deeply involved sensory experience of the world, from considerably more angles than the human one. His body, sitting comfortably in his chair and experiencing the textures of air and wood, is only a small part of it; in a slightly different direction, and almost closer to the centre, is the landscape of sexuality around him. Bella's closest, and his attention is on her more than anyone else in the room, so he feels her the most clearly. He's not getting any more from her than he alluded to earlier, but he's getting it in depth. Her sexuality is kind of vague. His perception of it is not.
And along yet another dimension, different again from the embodied self and the metaphysical/sexual self, there's his field. Or something like a field. It's a patch of ground with plants growing in it, but it's surrounded by a gated stone wall, adjoining a small house and surrounded on three sides by larger buildings. Apparently Celosia is the fertility spirit of an urban garden. It's doing pretty well; he feels contentment and restful growth from it.
After all of this comes conscious thought. But he's not really having any at the moment. The totality of his experience is enough for him; it doesn't also need a running commentary.
subtly_artistic
Bella makes sure her concentration is stable, and then she starts taking notes. "You may look at anything I write down about this," she murmurs, "it's not going to be about the content, just about my experience of it."
So far her notes say extra sensory tracks (nymph); minimal verbal loop (individual/species? unknown).
So far her notes say extra sensory tracks (nymph); minimal verbal loop (individual/species? unknown).
He laughs; something about her underlying expectation that he's serious about his mental privacy is funny. "Okay," he says agreeably.
subtly_artistic
"Most people who come through here are doing it for the money and aren't actually fully comfortable with being inspected for money. The consent forms and the signposting and the permission to look at our notes are for them," Bella murmurs.
"Yeah, I figured," he says.
He doesn't really need that shit. He gets a kind of vicious satisfaction from the fact that anyone who looked at things he didn't want them to see would probably regret it, and that's enough for him.
But he doesn't feel that way about Bella. (He thinks of her mostly by sexuality, somewhat by face, a little by the memory of their first conversation, and barely at all by name.) Her, he would rather protect from his worst memories. He doesn't know why, and it doesn't bother him not to; he just goes with how he feels.
He doesn't really need that shit. He gets a kind of vicious satisfaction from the fact that anyone who looked at things he didn't want them to see would probably regret it, and that's enough for him.
But he doesn't feel that way about Bella. (He thinks of her mostly by sexuality, somewhat by face, a little by the memory of their first conversation, and barely at all by name.) Her, he would rather protect from his worst memories. He doesn't know why, and it doesn't bother him not to; he just goes with how he feels.
subtly_artistic
Bella writes predominant person-identifier along sexuality channel (species/individual? unknown) and signposts evidently for protection of observers.
She checks her timer. It's been a minute and a half. She's doing better than she usually has, but she's not at her goal for the lab yet.
She checks her timer. It's been a minute and a half. She's doing better than she usually has, but she's not at her goal for the lab yet.
He doesn't try to read her notes while he's writing them. He does watch her pen, but he's not interpreting its movement on the level of language.
Celo is now having vague - and nonverbal - thoughts about the connection between calligraphy and sex.
subtly_artistic
Bella tries to think of a genteel way to describe him as having a one-track mind. This, unlike timer-checking or reporting on lab consent arrangements, is too complicated for her to maintain concentration. She loses it, puts her hand at her temple down, and writes 2:03.
He laughs. "What threw you?"
subtly_artistic
"Trying to figure out how to phrase something for the lab notes. Professor Winters is going to read them even if you don't want a look first."
"Okay," he says, shrugging.
subtly_artistic
Bella notes the time, puts her hand back to her temple, and starts up again.
Now he's thinking about his combat classes. The primary identifying feature of the coach is that she has a serious thing for watching hot boys get fucked up. It makes class a little more interesting, especially since Celo has a serious thing for getting fucked up.