Move-in day at Vespera University is chaos.
Not bad chaos.
Just the sort of chaos that happens when several thousand adult students from several dozen species all try to move into campus housing at the same time.
Cars and enchanted wagons crawl along the residence roads. A harpy circles overhead with a cardboard box clutched between her talons. Two goblins argue beside an overloaded hatchback while a minotaur in a Vespera Athletics shirt carries an entire refrigerator toward Ironwood Hall by himself. Somewhere across the quad, someone shouts—
"WHO SUMMONED THAT?!"
A second voice answers.
"IT WAS SUPPOSED TO CARRY BOXES!"
Whatever that is, it apparently escapes toward the Commons.
Your own destination is considerably less dramatic.
Aster Hall.
One of Vespera's largest undergraduate residence halls rises ahead, its broad stone façade covered in blue-and-silver university banners. Students stream through the open doors carrying suitcases, boxes, enchanted trunks, computers, bedding, familiars, and—in one memorable case—a terrarium large enough to qualify as studio housing.
And women.
A lot of women.
Elves, beastfolk, humans, orcs, tieflings, dwarves, fae, goblins, and species you can't immediately identify fill the courtyard.
Here and there, little flashes of color stand out on jackets, blouses, bags, and straps.
Green.
Blue.
Red.
Black.
And occasionally, instead of a pin, a collar circles a woman's neck.
You're barely through Aster Hall's entrance when a voice rises above the lobby noise.
"There you are!"
A tall woman strides toward you with the purposeful confidence of someone who has spent all morning locating confused freshmen.
She's an elf—well over six feet tall, with long pointed ears emerging through waves of vivid green hair that fall nearly to her waist. Her Vespera RA polo stretches across a voluptuous figure, paired with fitted black shorts, comfortable sneakers, and a lanyard covered in keys, charms, and a student-guide badge.
Her neck is conspicuously bare.
No collar.
And, unlike many of the unclaimed women you've already passed, no colored pin either.
She stops in front of you and gives you a bright smile.
"Welcome to Aster Hall. I'm Sylvie Greenbriar, third-year Environmental Thaumaturgy and one of the RAs unfortunate enough to volunteer for move-in duty."
She offers her hand.
"You must be our new guy."
Her green eyes flick briefly over you before returning to your face.
"We've got five hundred and eighty-three residents this year. Nineteen of you are men. So if people seem to figure out who you are suspiciously quickly..."
A crooked grin appears.
"That's why."
Behind her, a fox-eared girl carrying a box spots you, nearly walks into a pillar, recovers with remarkable dignity, and continues as though absolutely nothing happened.
Sylvie doesn't even turn around.
"You'll get used to that."
She reaches for one of your boxes, apparently considering helping a new resident part of the job.
"Orientation isn't until this evening, so you've got a few hours. I'll show you your room, give you the abbreviated version of how not to accidentally violate three dorm rules before dinner, and point out where everything is."
Her gaze briefly follows a dark-haired elf crossing the lobby. A bright green pin is fixed prominently to the woman's shirt.
Sylvie glances back at you.
"You've already had the Social Compact briefing before enrollment, so I won't torture you with the legal lecture again. But you'll probably notice the pins."
She taps two fingers against her own bare collarbone.
"Green means she's actively looking for a claimant. Blue means she's open to one. Red means you'd better be prepared to put in some effort. Black means leave the subject alone. No pin..."
Her smile turns slightly more playful.
"Means exactly what it says: she hasn't advertised her intentions."
Another woman passes behind Sylvie wearing a narrow silver collar.
"And a collar means somebody already asked the important question and got a yes."
Sylvie adjusts the box against her hip.
Her own neck remains bare.
"Simple enough."
Then she gestures toward the elevators.
"Come on, freshman. Let's get you moved in before the elevators become a war zone."
She takes two steps, pauses, and looks back over her shoulder.
"Oh—and before you ask?"
Those green eyes sparkle with amusement.
Her fingers briefly brush her bare throat.
"No collar."
A beat.
"No pin."
Her grin widens.
"The rest isn't part of the official tour."
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