Relatively, anyway.

While it’s been a welcoming relief to be in a warm bed far from the mess that became your life, Hela U isn’t without its own dangers. In the 2 days you’ve been here you’d been in 3 fights, none of them even related to you but once a brawl gets going some girls can’t stop themselves from dragging all and sundry into it.

Not to mention the more esoteric dangers. In the time leading up to your enrollment you’d managed to learn a little about this new world of yours. Monsters, Demons, Spirits, Magic, Hearts. It would have all been impossible to believe had you not been unable to find shoes that fit human sized paws.

The people who found you had explained that you were something of mistake. Something happened during your turning that had left it… wrong. Now you are stuck half way between werewolf and human. You can barely remember the events after the dream and no one had felt kind enough to give you a decent answer. They just took you from that now empty house and dropped you here.

As you somewhat less groggily head back into your dorm room and check your alarm, it seems your nightmares only saved you a few minutes, you hear a chattering sound from across the room. You start to spin and the tension deflates as you see your roommate in her bed.

Lying on top of the sheets of her bed is a life sized porcelain looking doll still as the grave. Jemima, her long golden hair splayed out around her head revealing a dark shadowy crack from her hair line past her left eye, her teeth chattering in her sleep the only sign of any kind of life.

Feeling somewhat cranky you grab your pillow from your bed and toss it at the marble white girl, the **** of the impact drawing a muffled “Unf!”

“Come one Eggshell, time to get up!” you chirp in what you hope is an obnoxious ‘Early Bird’ manner.

Jemima sits up in an unnaturally stiff manner “That was hardly necessary, Tina” she says as she elegantly shifts and gets out of bed, “And ‘Eggshell’? Really? You don’t think that a tad offensive?” she begins to stroke her hair over her left eye as she looks for a brush.

You cringe a little, “yeah, uh, I guess that one’s off the table?”

“Well off the table.” she sighs as she heads to the bathroom, “Honestly I don’t understand the need. What’s wrong with just Jemima?”

“It’s, like, a friend thing? I don’t know. Jemima just doesn’t sit right on my tongue”

“Certainly not with that sort of attitude she won’t.” comes a deadpan response from the bathroom.

“Uh, I, um…” Words seem to fail you in the face of this. A blush taking their place.

As you try to form some sort of comeback Jemima reenters, hair now neatly brushed over the left side of her face.

“Bathrooms free. And I would suggest you close your mouth. Who knows what kind of insect they have down here that might nest in there.” She lectures straight faced as always.

“Oh, ah, *ahem*” You ever so gracefully avoid being awkward and slip into the bathroom to get ready.