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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
He shows her.
His name is - intense. Summer heat, sun on ripe grain, a complex grassy smell carried on the warm breeze. Like turning a corner and walking into the gardens of Paradise.
It suits him perfectly.
His name is - intense. Summer heat, sun on ripe grain, a complex grassy smell carried on the warm breeze. Like turning a corner and walking into the gardens of Paradise.
It suits him perfectly.
subtly_artistic
"You have," she murmurs, "a lovely name."
She turns it over in her mind, once, and then sends it back. "Am I pronouncing it right?"
She turns it over in her mind, once, and then sends it back. "Am I pronouncing it right?"
"Basically, yeah," he says. "You could get closer if you wanted, but people'll know who you're talking about."
subtly_artistic
"If I ever need to refer to you to someone else who knows you by that instead of Celo, then I will."
He grins.
"I like my name."
"I like my name."
subtly_artistic
"And you've had at least three chances to learn mine, which is less interesting."
Celo shrugs.
"It's Bella, right?"
"It's Bella, right?"
He observes that if he had to translate how he refers to her in his head into words, he'd probably go with 'Boring Hallmate', even though she isn't actually boring at all.
subtly_artistic
Bella sputters with amusement briefly, loses her read, writes 4:21, and picks up again.
Celo grins.
"What part of that was funny?" he wonders.
"What part of that was funny?" he wonders.
subtly_artistic
"The contrast between thinking I'm boring on your primary people-identifying axis but not thinking I'm boring in general, yet being so attached to that axis that it's how you'd label me."
"You're not boring on that axis, though," he says. "You're only boring out loud."
He called her boring, when they first met, but it's a shallow descriptor. Sex doesn't have to be kinky to be fun, and sexuality doesn't have to be unusual to be interesting. He would happily fuck her, if she wanted to, and he bets it would not be even a little bit boring.
He called her boring, when they first met, but it's a shallow descriptor. Sex doesn't have to be kinky to be fun, and sexuality doesn't have to be unusual to be interesting. He would happily fuck her, if she wanted to, and he bets it would not be even a little bit boring.
subtly_artistic
She loses her read again.
She writes down her time and raises an eyebrow at him.
She writes down her time and raises an eyebrow at him.
He shrugs.
"Sorry? Should I be sorry? I'm not sorry," he says.
"Sorry? Should I be sorry? I'm not sorry," he says.
subtly_artistic
"You can think about whatever you want. I already have my five minutes handled, though, so if that's what you want to think about, I can turn in my notes and send you to work with one of the students who's working with another subtle artist today instead."
"It's not something I want to dwell on for the next half hour," he says. "But I'm a nymph. I'm not going to act like sex is unthinkable. I can't act like sex is unthinkable; without sex I would die."
He shrugs.
"So - I'm sorry but I'm not sorry," he says. "I'll try not to get in your face about it again."
"So - I'm sorry but I'm not sorry," he says. "I'll try not to get in your face about it again."
subtly_artistic
"Thanks. I'm not planning to become a sex therapist," she snorts, and she reads again.
Well, now he's giggling.
"Maybe I should be a sex therapist. What does a sex therapist even do?"
"Maybe I should be a sex therapist. What does a sex therapist even do?"
Celo giggles harder.
Hey, he already combines sex and healing! Twice! One way that is the usual nymph combination of having sex a lot and having divine healing properties, and another that is... a more novel way of having divine healing properties.
Hey, he already combines sex and healing! Twice! One way that is the usual nymph combination of having sex a lot and having divine healing properties, and another that is... a more novel way of having divine healing properties.
subtly_artistic
Bella blinks.
"Well, that's unheard of," she says, "but I suppose you already were."
"Well, that's unheard of," she says, "but I suppose you already were."