//------------------------------// // Prologue: Hello, Rainbow // Story: The Collegiate Conundrum // by Divide //------------------------------// Prologue — Hello, Rainbow College sucks. At least, you think so. You don't care what anyone says. College is basically an adult kindergarten, one where depressed teachers try to uphold some semblance of order in their classes full of drunk, disorderly, or just plain stupid students (and you use the term 'students' extremely loosely) that are only there because their rich parents want their brain-dead children to have some sort of higher education. Either that or sports scholarships. Goddamn sports scholarships. At least, your college certainly feels that way. The only thing that makes Victus College anything near bearable is your roommate, Fredric, but as fate would have it, he left this morning to go on an all-expenses paid trip to Canterlot, over in Equestria. Lucky bastard. If you had known what the prize was for that anthropological study, you would've entered. You always wanted to see your walking, talking, pony-people neighbours first hand. Hindsight's twenty-twenty, you figure. Here you are, sitting at your desk, triple-checking your thirty page essay while the rest of the campus sleeps off the previous night of debauchery and poor decisions. You don't understand why people hate Mondays so much. It's just another day of the week, and no matter what day comes after Sunday, that day would take the undeserved blame. In fact, you salute Monday for taking all the hate like a champ. There's a loud thunk at your door, heavy enough to mess up your writing. You sigh solemnly, for the end is nigh: The only person that could possibly be rapping at your chamber door this early can only be your future roommate, and you're definitely not lucky enough to get a good one twice in a row. Thunk. The empty sound comes from the lower portion of the door. Good thing they're fairly solid to prevent dorm-crashers. "It's open," you sullenly call without turning around. Thunk. Your face is deridingly neutral. "It's a generally known fact that doors are opened with hands, not feet." Thunk. "For crying out loud," you mutter, then ask louder, "Are you trying to cave the door in? If you are, you're doing a damn fine job of it." Thunk. Your eye twitches. Grudgingly, you stand up and traverse the distance between your desk and the door in two strides. "How difficult was that?" you say with acidity as you grab the doorknob and reef it open. "How goddamn difficult is it to open a door without—" Your words die in your throat, and you immediately wish that you could rescind them. Standing in front of you is a wide-eyed native of Equestria carrying a skyscraper of books, two bulging suitcases, and a backpack that wouldn't look out of place on a mountain climber. The handles of a smaller, purse-like device are gripped firmly in the Equestrian's mouth. Shit. "I-uh... umm..." Words having failed you, you make an entering motion with your hand as you step to the side. "Can I take a bag or two?" you ask with a sigh, doing your best to act gentlemanly after royally messing up already. The Equestrian pointedly ignores you, refusing your oh-so generous offer. With a tail flick that makes you feel dismissed, the Equestrian walks past you and dumps everything they're carrying onto the empty bed. You pinch the bridge of my nose. Christ, the media was full of it: Equestrians were just as unfriendly as humans. Eyes narrowed, you shut the door and watch the Equestrian struggle to remove the oversized backpack. There's no way you're going to offer help now. The dweller from across the Way is definitely a female, if the breasts and backside are any indication (you only notice because you see her side view; you have much better things to do than ogle a foreign pony/person hybrid). She's short, about a head shorter than yourself, and like all natives of Equestria, she is one of the many colours of the rainbow—in this case, blue. Light blue. There's probably a name for that specific shade, but you don't know or otherwise care what it is. Her hair (mane, technically, but it certainly looks like hair) is the actual colours of the rainbow: each section sports a different colour. You absently wonder if she dyes it. Her clothes, on the other hand, are fairly basic. And by basic, you mean that your simple jeans and a long-sleeve shirt combo makes you feel overdressed. She's wearing only a pair of dark blue, form-fitting shorts alongside a black T-shirt with a yellow lightning bolt in the centre. A pair of wings the same colour as her fur are sticking out of the two hastily-cut holes in her shirt. "I presume you're here because you're my new roommate and not because you got lost backpacking in the Alps," you say as she finally manages to undo the twenty-or-so straps that held the mountaineer's knapsack in place. You thought you were clever, considering that summer had come two months early. As the backpack drops to the floor, you swear you hear the floorboards crack. "I thought that you'd be a female," she says casually and, surprisingly, without menace, like you're merely discussing the weather. Her voice is a bit husky. "O—kay? And why would you think that I was a woman?" you ask, even though you already know the answer. Co-ed sleeping arrangements just didn't happen at Victus College. If they did, you're sure that it would be a lot noisier at night than it currently was. "I was told I'd be sleeping with a human of the same gender." You snort. "What?" she asks. She gestures to her bed and yours. "This is where we sleep, right? And we're in the same room, so doesn't that mean we're sleeping together?" Ohgodyoursides— You can't hold it anymore. The sheer ridiculousness of the entire situation hits you and what little self-control you have slips, causing you to burst into cackling laughter that sounds like an eighty-year old chain smoker crossed with the Joker. When the chuckles run dry, you bring your attention back to the now extremely flustered Equestrian. She looks like she's about to wring your neck. You cough to clear your throat. "The word you're probably looking for is lodging, although technically rooming could also be used," you enlighten. "We're rooming together. Over here, 'sleeping' can also mean—" You make a circle with one hand and put the forefinger of your other hand into it. Her blue face turns a shade of purple. "—Yeah. Gotta watch your words here." You decide to change the subject. "Quite frankly, I think they made a mistake. Co-ed sleeping arrangements aren't normally allowed. I mean, the whole 'different species' thing could be an argument, but... wait. You are my new roommate... right? You didn't just wander in here by accident?" She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. "I was told to go to room three-oh-three. I was also told that the person inside would be my roommate." Her big, magenta eyes narrow. "I was not told that they'd be a guy or that they'd be a pain in the flank." You scratch your day-old stubble. "Well, it seems like we were both left in the dark about this whole situation." You sigh. There was a lot to be desired in the management of Victus, but this was a new low. "If you're here to stay, I guess that means we have to introduce ourselves, doesn't it?" She mutters something that you can't hear and blows a lock of her hair absently. "Yeah, I guess we do. I'm Rainbow Dash." "Nice to meet you, Rainbow Dash," you say earnestly all the while thinking about how silly her name is. "My name is..."