You’re walking by dorm by dorm, your eyes red and exhausted, bags under them that detail the hours you’d spent up late, partying like the wild thing you were for the first time in this twisted university. Who knew you’d be getting into such fun chaos here at Godolkin University?

You smirk at the idea that you might just remember somebody giving you a lap dance at that same party, but the thought is pushed back at the moment you hear somebody calling for help. The voice is awfully small, but it’s there for your super-hearing to pick up on behind these doors. You give it a second, before you hear it again, and you’re too tired to think about the consequences of entering a dorm not your own when you walk in curiously.

“Oh thank Christ!” Cheered a voice that makes your eyes shift down to the carpeted floor below. It’s like looking at an ant when you see her — Emma Meyer, the resident shrinking girl who had to purge to shrink down to that very size, standing beside a trash can that had some very orangey puke inside. You could swear that you could remember her back at that same party, she didn’t get up to much aside from downing kegs like they were five-hour energy shots and throwing them up in the woods that same night. Man, was she a riot.

“Hey, could you uh… help? Please?” Emma requests poorly, wearing what look like these Barbie clothes. As to be expected when no one really made clothes for shrinking supes her size. “Just like— grab some snacks! I got some chips in that bag over there, can you crush them up and put ‘em on a tray or something?”