Kyte Collindale, Pecari
Fighting dirty
Tue Sep 11, 2018 23:37

‘Put away your wands, you will not be needing them’ was always a danger sign. Defence Against the Dark Arts was the one class he had fully passed, which meant he was technically required to try the theory here too. Still, he didn’t get his quill out yet, in spite of the danger sign, because all Professor Hawthorne had said was ‘put your wands away’ and not ‘get out your quills,’ and Kyte was very good at following instructions. When they suited him. To the point of being passive aggressive and bloody minded.

About five minutes into class, he still wasn’t really sure what was going on. He didn’t recognise the fancy names for the types of magic that they were using and then Professor Hawthorne asked them ‘What is the mind?’ She probably thought there was a right or a wrong answer to that but it sounded awfully lot like the kind of thing he and his cousins talked about when they’d been smoking. Professor Nash had definitely not been a fan of Kyte’s contributions to class, which were surprisingly frequent for someone who had no clue what the subject was most of the time, because Kyte had literally no shame and no filters. Frequently his contributions were loud and accidental, as he simply blurted out whatever thought had occurred to him at a volume which was intended for just Ben but frequently missed, but occasionally he tried making what he considered to be a relevant point. This seemed like a suitable opportunity to attempt that, and he managed, this time, to get as far as raising his hand rather than just starting to talk, taking advantage of the fact that the new teacher probably didn’t know better than to call on him, or was at least willing to give him some kind of benefit of the doubt, regardless of what Professor Nash had told her about him.

“The mind is like….” he began, not having actually fully formed any kind of thought before wading into the discussion, “Like… the essence of the self. I mean, there’s the soul as well. So, like the mind is the thinking part of the self, whilst the soul is the feeling part.” He was pretty sure that saying something similar to this had had a girl vigorously jamming her tongue into his mouth and then dragging him back to her tent during a festival they’d been flyering at over the summer. He was a little hazy on the details, but it had definitely been something along those lines. It had sounded better out in the sun, surrounded by live music and a vague feeling of floating. He doubted it was going to have the same effect on Professor Hawthorne, but hopefully she thought it was just a good a point in spite of (presumably) not being intoxicated.

Apparently, it was - it seemed he was more or less right, in Professor Hawthorne’s book, or at least not actively wrong, because he was not being sternly told ‘No, that is not the point.’ Was seventh year finally the point where magic got so wibbly that all the really Deep Stuff he thought about was actually finally worth some credit? That would be awesome. It also turned out that the fancy words meant mind reading and… anti-mind reading. Get out of my head. Which was cool. Kinda. Kyte couldn’t really imagine this being a thing that happened too often in his life but it was at least weird and interesting. It would be a total trip to wander around someone else’s mind but it didn’t seem like something anyone would allow him to do ever, seeing as it required care and precision. He would just have to settle for other forms of loosening people’s thoughts, and listening to the ramblings that followed them. That felt like being in someone else’s head and was a lot easier.

The demonstration was… weird. It should have been boring because basically nothing was happening, but it was equally kind of intense. Kyte wondered what it felt like having someone walk around your mind, like… all the way in. Part of him still wanted to try it, because it sounded like a trip, and Kyte was all about Interesting Experiences. But he had to admit, it seemed less fun that he had imagined, watching the two professors.

Then Professor Brooding said she would go around skimming the surface of their minds. And he was supposed to defend. He considered not bothering, and just… seeing what it felt like. Kyte was not a particularly private person but he thought he might get in trouble for a few things that were in there. He supposed it would be pretty bad if Professor Brooding found out about him smoking out the Pecari dorm windows. He wondered if his parents would get in trouble for letting him drink underage if she found any of those memories. He wondered what kind of view she took of how often he thought of other people naked. Those weren’t memories, so much as dreams and fantasies, but they were all within his mind, and presumably accessible. He suspected she didn’t want to see those things, and it might actually be quite a good defence to get her to leave his head alone quickly. He felt vaguely bad about that, because so far Professor Hawthorne seemed much more chill than Professor Nash. Admittedly, that was not difficult, but he took slightly less pleasure in the thought of deliberately freaking her out than he would have done with his old teacher. He tried to work out who she would least like to see in a compromising position, other than herself - he decided that she should be spared at least that. It was probably most creepy for him to think about Professor Taransay, but he also couldn’t imagine that many people would find the sight of him with his shirt off inherently repellent. It was probably a pretty good sight. Was it creepier for her, as a teacher, to know that he thought about his teachers that way, or was it worse if he was thinking about his fellow students that way because, as a staff member, she definitely wasn’t meant to see them like that?

Deciding that the latter was better, he practised his mental showreel a few times whilst he waited, which was a fairly good distraction from his homework, though admittedly not that different to how he usually passed the time in class. As Professor Hawthorne came over and looked into his eyes, he firmly settled on a mental image of Nevaeh Reed slowly and seductively taking her clothes off. It would probably be clear to the teacher that the image was not a real memory - it was shimmery and blurred, there was not enough substance to the room, and Nevaeh’s assets had been somewhat enhanced by Kyte’s imagination. Which Professor Hawthorne was going to get a very graphic view of pretty soon, if she didn’t back out of Kyte’s brain.

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    • Fighting dirty — Kyte Collindale, Pecari, Tue Sep 11 23:37
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