the things that you might like don't grow inside of me

-so wait, that meant lesson plans were...?

Almost entirely up to the individual teachers. Great.

While Irene had at least given the introductory material handed out to passing students from the entrance exams a cursory look over in the last couple of weeks, she hadn't well and truly gone into it all in depth. Not until now, at least, and that was something she was very much starting to regret. It wasn't exactly that there were any surprises in there. Most of the stuff covered was about what Irene had expected. The dormitories and their locations, the meal plan coverage that thankfully came hand in hand with the tuition, the information that the support companies partnered with the school were requesting in advance for when individual gear would become a thing. It was certain things like the fairly bare bones lesson plans that had Irene equal parts irritated and nervous. When all was said and done she wasn't overly fond of surprises, but with only a name to attach to the teacher in charge of class 1-A to go on there were a lot of unknowns to contend with.

Well, that was her homework for the night, then. Get the dorm's WiFi figured out, do a bit of research and figure out exactly whose hands she was going to be placing her future in for the next several months. Soundproofing her room so as not to bother the neighbors with her musical tastes and unpacking in depth could come after that. That said, she'd have to reach the dormitories first before doing any of that.

So used to the presence of other pedestrians was Irene that she barely noticed the other students nearby - rather, that was to say her brain had completely filtered them out beyond the path needed to avoid them, at least until voices carrying agitated tones began to speak up. The sound of ass hitting ground was one Irene was familiar enough to immediately recognize, though, even if it usually was softened a bit by floor padding. Pavement? Didn't really matter who you were, that was probably going to hurt.

While the New Yorker in her was sorely tempted to ignore something that frankly wasn't her problem and finish the end of what had been a long and tiring trip to UA, another part of her was well aware how that would probably come off to others. People tended to remember things when you least expected it, and the last thing Irene wanted was to start the semester with someone already pissed off with her. Taking in a deep breath before locking and pocketing her phone, Irene stopped walking in the straight line that would have taken her to the dormitories around the corner ahead.

Seemed like she almost shouldn't have bothered, though - as Irene stopped and started to turn around the big guy's attitude was one that she was likewise more than familiar with. He seemed set to just continue on before a thought came to mind and he stopped to ask the pink haired... girl? They definitely looked like such but something about that felt... off? Regardless, it was only when he had a question to be answered that he bothered to stop.

"Dorms are those buildings just around the corner, 'least according to the map. Take a right around those trees on the corner, shouldn't be able to miss it." Irene called out, voice only slightly raised so as to make herself readily heard to the big guy. Not that it seemed all that necessary. The pink haired one on the ground had started the conversation rightfully irritated but that no longer seemed to be the case. Quite the opposite, in fact, a smattering of what sounded like French tossed into introductions and what sounded like... pick up lines?

It took a physical act of will not to let the exasperation or distaste pass over Irene's face. There was nothing wrong with dating, but it was a bad idea when you were presumably going to be living under the same roof for several months. Shit could happen and crap could go wrong, and then your problems tended to spill over and affect everyone else. Besides, Irene was fairly sure the vast majority of the students at UA were there for other reasons - the pink haired one's priorities were going to need some shuffling if they expected to last long in such a competitive environment.

"... so? You alright, then?" Irene continued, words now directed to the smaller student on the ground as the New Yorker leaned a bit to the side so as to get a better line of sight on them around the big guy. An action that almost caused the duffel bag's strap to shift off of her shoulder and fall to the pavement, although a quick if somewhat absentminded adjustment would keep it in place.

Colette Cuthbert Mugen Arashi