Room 43// An Inanimate Insanity College AU

1- And so it Begins

Paintbrush walks with confidence, head held high and back straight, shoulders back. Their matte black rolling bag trailed behind them, the plastic wheels rolling against the hardwood floors of the second-floor hallway of Inanimate College. However on the inside, they were honestly panicking. And probably more than just a little bit.

Room 43, they thought, repeating it over and over in their head. Your room is room 43. It was like a mantra, the way they poured over it.

The empty hallway was not helping Paintbrush's nerves; they arrived on campus a week before the semester started, despite the recommendation of arriving a couple of days before. They wanted to be prepared, and vaguely know the campus and surrounding areas before the semester starts.

Lots of things could go wrong with college, and they knew it; the several tales online about this and that. One of the majors with the worst stories were art majors, which just so happened to be what Paintbrush was. The future of artists apparently wasn't all that great either; starving artists or people stuck at the first rung of the ladder.

Paintbrush wouldn't trade art for anything, though. They're passionate about it, and while it could have stayed as a hobby, they can't see themselves doing anything else for work.

...And art was also known for being respectful of... gender identity... which Paintbrush was really counting on because they didn't want to have to deal with a group of homophobic or otherwise disrespectful peers for the entire three-to-four-year degree program.

Oh god, what if their roommates were disrespectful? They'd have to live with that, literally, for their entire stay at college. Well, they supposed that they could request to be moved from their dorm if they so wished, but- God, why were they thinking so far ahead? Everything is going to work out.

...but if it doesn't then 'burn down the college' is definitely a viable option.

They checked one of the room's numberplates as they walked past it and were shocked to find that they were nearing their own room, just passing by room 38. Theirs was room 43, so they'd be there just about...

Now.

Here it was, they supposed. It looked just like every other door; nothing special about it, no magical pathway to the underworld. So why did it make them feel so nervous? The knowing that this was their new home for the next couple of years was just... giving off some anxiety. They're sure it would be fine. Yeah.

They were never really nervous; they were a cool, calm and collected kind of person! But this in particular was making them anxious, leaving them a mess in front of their door.

Right. They should probably walk in, huh. There's no use just sitting in front of the door doing nothing, after all.

So they pushed the door open with their foot, using one hand to carry their rolling bag and the other in a pocket of their hoodie, shaking away with nerves that Paintbrush really wasn't supposed to have.

The hinges squeaked loud enough that it would reverberate through the empty corridor and Paintbrush winced, knowing that was going to take a lot of getting accustomed to.

They walked through the door with their rolling bag trailing behind, taking in their new common room. It looked about as one would expect; a small TV facing one wall with a couch in the middle of the room, a leather armchair sitting slightly tilted beside it and being pretty empty other than that.

The room is surprisingly clean, too. It seems to have been dusted, and recently too. Maybe the workers on campus go through rooms before the semester begins, to guarantee that the dormitories are actually... liveable. The whole dorm smells like cheap bleach with the faint and slightly unpleasant smell of dust underneath.