Dorm Assignments & Introductions

NARRATOR: The student affairs hall looked like a cathedral that had been bullied into bureaucracy. Vaulted ceilings arched like wings mid-flap, and stained-glass windows filtered daylight into shifting shapes—magical symbols, academic crests, and a faint caricature of Nora Rabe von Queef striking a pose she definitely didn’t authorize. Dozens of new students clogged the floor, dragging trunks, familiars, and boxes of enchantment-laced trail mix. The air was thick with the smell of old scrolls and the headache tang of welcome potions brewed too quickly and too confidently. At the center of it all spun a chalkboard the size of a carriage door—levitating, glowing faintly, and rotating just slowly enough to make everyone nervous. A single twitchy quill zipped across it like a caffeinated hornet, scratching out names with gleeful disdain for logic, fairness, or time. Somewhere near the middle of the line stood Nick Kremp, arms crossed, posture hopeful in the way that said it had been burned before. He’d already been bumped forward, bumped back, and at least once suspended midair by a time-looped clipboard. He was trying not to count how many roommates he’d had...well, before. Standing beside him, looking like a forest ranger who moonlit as a motivational speaker, was a sleeveless wood elf with braided hair and a longbow casually slung across his back. He extended a hand with the kind of grin that made bards and insurance salesmen very dangerous. ORLANDUS:"Name’s Orlandus. Friends call me Lando." NARRATOR:Nick shook the hand before he had time to regret it. NICK (guarded curiosity):"Wait… are you my—?" NARRATOR:The quill stopped. Hovered. Twitched once. Then swirled into action. It scratched a pairing off the spinning chalkboard in shimmering, smugly satisfied ink: KREMP & SPOKOVICH – ROOM 3A NICK (quietly, maybe sincerely):"Please be my roommate." ORLANDUS (double thumbs up):"We’re gonna run this floor." NARRATOR:Behind them, the line groaned forward. The board continued its divine matchmaking. ASH STONEFIST & EVELINE PRINGLE – ROOM 3BEveline wasn’t present. Ash bowed to the chalkboard as if it were an old teacher. The quill paused, then offered a low, respectful twitch in return. MAINE & FANG – ROOM 3CFang—already halfway down the hallway—was humming to herself while trailing chalk symbols along the baseboards. Maine followed behind, silently copying them into his notes. VICTOR SHAW & EXABA – ROOM 3D Victor had been studying the board but couldn't remember the name next to his on the scroll. He folded the scroll once, twice, then slid it into his coat without comment; somehow forgetting that he forgot what he was doing, yet still doing it with expertise. JONAH SUBRAMOUNTIAN & TINTORETTO – ROOM 3EJonah gave a thumbs-up to the quill. Tintoretto, his tortle roommate, was outside tending to a very emotional patch of moss. DARIUS & I.J. – ROOM 3FDarius was busy helping others carry luggage and was on his third trip down the stairs. It's unclear if others were unable to assist or chose not to, or perhaps were just intimidated by the large cat grabbing their bags. NARRATOR:The entirety of Floor 3 was chaos. Suitcases hissed. Familiars squared off in midair. One hallway briefly flickered between “elven minimalism” and “dungeon noir” before settling on Art Deco Dungeon—a style that paired poorly with student debt. Sub-Floor 3 was not the lowest level in the dormitory. In fact, it was the highest a first-year student could hope to live on. There were apparently hundreds of floors at one point in VQU history. Now, it’s unclear how many are still active. Records insist that no current student lives below the twentieth floor.There were rumors, of course—whispers of levels beyond even that. Forgotten corridors. Discarded experiments. Students who never returned, but whose names still got called during attendance because they dared to find out if there really was a swimming pool on Floor 34. Nick and Orlandus reached their room—3A—just as the door burst open and a broom screamed past them in magical agony. It exploded into a burst of harmless glitter. ORLANDUS (grinning):"That one was mine." NARRATOR:The room itself was… promising. Two beds, floor space for activities, a sink that may have once been alchemical, and a mirrored closet that whispered affirmations or insults depending on the phase of the moon. Nick dropped his bag. Lando did a handstand onto his bed like a man testing fate. Down the hall, Victor had conversations and made moments he’d never remember.Ash placed a single stone bowl on the floor, bowed, and began meditating. Maine’s clock ticked every six seconds and whispered axioms in Draconic—a dead language he wasn’t entirely sure he understood.Jonah introduced himself to a wardrobe. It did not reply. The couch did though. Darius, by then, had helped no fewer than three other students move in and carried his two bags to his door. Unfortunately, he had found it locked. I.J. had requested privacy while she practiced her morning singing routine. In the best of spirits, Darius dropped his bags and returned to the lounge, staring deeply into a mirror that hung across from one of the seats. His reflection looked back at him the way one does before one of its eyes falls out. “Welcome to VQU,” the reflection mouthed.“Try not to die.”