Lanuleta University – Psychology Class
Where I 'Wow' the Ladies With My Charisma
A curling question mark of yellow appeared in her red bangs when I asked her, "So…does all your hair change colors?"
It was just a 'starter' question. Soon enough, I'd have her wrapped around my finger and an assured, sexy college girlfriend.
*Took you all hour to come up with that line, huh?*
I ignored the familiar voice and waited on her answer with a smile.
The girl looked up from her book and stared at me. Clearly taking in a full view of my impressive physique.
*Only if she has a wild imagination.*
She blinked and asked back, "All my hair?"
"Even if you like to keep it trimmed or waxed…I'd love to know." I drove the point home with a wide smirk.
Her mouth dropped open and…I don't remember much after that before waking up in the university doctor's office with a massive headache.
Then the walls melted, and I was back in the classroom again. Everyone else was glancing around and murmuring.
The professor pressed his glasses back, and they shifted into a bird with temple arms fluttering in the air. He clapped his gloved hands and announced, with his booming voice, "Welcome to Psychology 101."
The glasses-bird sat calmly on a tall bookshelf off to the side, its lenses panning around the room as it groomed its pads.
"My apologies for that rather disconcerting introduction. I am Dr. Kellemann and I am magically-sending a photographic-quality copy of the syllabus into the long-term memory center of your brains. You can also download a paper copy for your records from my website, which is also already in your minds."
He was right. I could probably recite every single word of it, including dates for examinations and readings.
*Much better magic than you get at a community college.*
Kellemann explained that, along with the original syllabus transfer, he had sent (via the fabric in his gloves) a mental exploration of, "A little piece of your personality." He assured that anything which occurred was "personal and occurred only in a reality of your mind."
Naturally, there was a quick-write essay coming about the experience.
I flexed my writing hand with a sigh. The girl with the color-changing hair was, in reality, on the other side of the room. She looked right at me when I glanced over. I made like I was examining the texture of the wall behind her.
When it came time for writing, I was glad I wasn't the only one who sat and stared at the paper before Kellemann noticed and added, "You won't have to share the finer, personal details, but you will have to share something of note from the experience."
I glared at the whiteness of the paper.
*You're never gonna will words onto it by staring at it.*
No, that was the guy over to my right. Letters spewed from the black of his eyes and settled onto the page.
As the stems of the glasses-bird clopped around on the bookshelf, my mind began to wander.
I first wandered to thoughts about the nicely-detailed LanU symbols (which had been burned into my mind with the syllabus).
Lanuleta University was established, as a response to the discovery and development of the science of "magic", by a businessman who considered himself a wizard even before the mainstreaming of magic.
It was all way before I was born. It had some technical term I learned back in high school. "Non-Something Energy Translation Via Conscious or Mechanical Interaction". Had to do with physics.
Everyone just said "magic" anyway.
It was why dad could fly to work. And mom was a personal trainer who taught people how to literally reshape their appearance. And why I had a woman's voice inside my head all the time.
*Time is wasting on the writing…*
My thoughts wandered back in the right direction. But I was still faced with the same problem --- It was embarrassing!
Bad enough I was already thinking about the rainbow pubic hair of a girl who looked intimidating but who felt so very captivating.
*And who you know absolutely nothing about, particularly her name.*
She was gorgeous though. Perfectly-shaped from this side. Long, rich hair with colors that flowed like water. Her hair tones were pale blue at the moment, probably lost in thought as her slim hand danced across her paper. Her skin was naturally dusty, a seasoned brown in the scattered light of the room. She felt so beautiful that I couldn't keep from at least glancing in her direction every few moments. The girl looked lovely, even when she yawned.
*If you're gonna compose a poem to her, at least write it. Sheesh…*
I considered it but eventually reflected on the rather pompous nature of whatever part of my personality had been pulled out.
I noticed one of the curly-haired girls on the right was doing some strange things with the girl next to her. Apparently, the curly-haired one had copy magic because her hand was identical to the other girl's. And the other girl seemed like my aunt in that she could change the texture and color of her body. They both had blue arms with white nails.
I didn't see any other obvious magical talents. Of course then my uncle just had the ability to smell things from far away. Probably the best one I'd heard of was that one of the professors actually had the rare ability to undo damage to objects. He'd once worked at restoring museum collections. He could fix anything just by focusing on it.
My further musings were interrupted by more lecturing from the Psych professor. I really didn't want to present anything that I'd written, but I noticed the girl volunteered.
After prompting, she gave her name and introduced herself, "Nasira Jafri. I'm a double major in psychology and pre-med. My little vision left me with some confusion at first. I had this feeling it wasn't real, but I couldn't break out of it. The personality was very bitter about others and rather impulsive. And that is not me at all. But I figure it's related to my shadow aspect as detailed in Chapter 1-B."
All the while, her hair became golden and flowed like a sea of wheat.
The professor smiled and then spoke on "shadows".
*Aren't you kinda out of her league?*
Maybe. But then my voice pined for a guy in the neighborhood where I lived who could convert his body mass into pure muscle.
*It could happen! I, at least, tried to talk to him…sorta. Are you going to do anything but give longing looks at Nasira's bo...?*
YES! In fact, I would. Kinda…
I raised my hand as soon as a pause came in the lecture and offered my introduction, "Uh…Miguel Reyes. I'm…still exploring my options for a major. Freshman. My vision thing…I was kinda more confident. I approached a girl I hadn't met before and gave her a totally cheesy come-on line. She left me regretting it." I tried with all my might and will not to look in Nasira's direction.
It earned a little chuckle from the other students. After I was done, I checked on Nasira with a calm, sideways glance. She had her book open, and she was copying something down. I kinda wished she had been watching me, if only a little.
A couple others chimed in, and the professor started to outline the course in more detail. First, there was a paper involving abnormal psychology. And, as I knew from the precisely-remembered guidelines, there would have to be some personal research involved. I assumed that included the psychology labs where we could use mental manipulation gloves and other materials. I knew this partly again from the information that had been left in my head and partly because I knew someone who'd been a psych major at the school. I bought his used textbooks and, by some rare, fantastic miracle, they were the same edition required by the syllabus.
Dr. Kellemann said he would go over the safety protocol next class because, "I always get those gung-ho students who wind up with complex psychological problems or amnesia or worse. Nothing irreversible but be wary till I've explained everything."
I took some notes, but most of it was an elaboration of the syllabus. I couldn't imagine why Nasira was reading and writing so furiously.
After all the dry explanation, he ended with a raised glove and said, "As a fun counterpoint, I'm going to give you one last little experience for today. This will be as pleasant as I can make it. It'll also be part of the opening discussion next time." He gave a wave of his hand.
I approached him with my head down. Nasir. His hair was so beautiful, like a rustling forest. His top button was undone, and I could catch the barest glimpse of his broad, dark chest.
This was a bad idea. I turned to go, but he spoke in clear, confident words like electricity from his tongue, "Hi. You're Michelle Reyes from class, right?"
I felt a shiver like he had breathed deep inside me.
I turned, my head still down with my long, black hair cloaking my face, and squeaked, "I guess…hi. Sorry!" I was flush all over.
He calmly smiled and asked me to sit. I fell into the chair like my knees were going to cave under me. He reached across the table and slid his hands over mine. They were so big and strong.
I gave a quick little smile and attempted to find my words.
Before I could speak, he had moved his chair to my side. He said, "You look like you could use a back rub."
His hands across my back felt amazing. He knew just the places that bothered me the most. I felt so relaxed and peaceful. I accepted him utterly as his hands traced around to my front and embraced me. He expertly worked the muscles around my breasts. He knew just how to excite me without pressing too hard.
As he finished, I gasped, and a single word escaped my lips.
Then it all faded away, and I was back to reality. I sat there in silence. The people around me were laughing and standing up from their chairs. I figured their experiences weren't quite what I'd had.
I rolled my eyes and glanced across the room to where Nasira had been sitting. She was already gone. The door on that side was wide open.
I brushed a bit at my black hair. It was a little disconcerting for it to be this short, but I figured…hoped the sensation would soon pass.
After stuffing all my papers into my messenger bag, I considered approaching Dr. Kellemann about that last experience, but he was pretty well swarmed and swamped. So, I just listened.
Soon enough, someone brought it up and he asked a couple of open-ended questions, which culminated in, "It might be an interesting topic to bring up for discussion next time."
*Ask him how we can do it again!*
I pressed my hands around my ears, despite the fact it did nothing to quiet the voice, and marched out of the room.
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Bio: I'm MajorKerina and I love to collaborate creatively with a group of friends to make tales where people have their genders, identities, and very realities questioned, contorted, and turned upside-down. I like slice-of-life with a spicing of the supernatural, strange, or surreal. Reality with a scent of the impossible. You can find me on DeviantArt, Twitter, ScribbleHub, and other places.