A deep red Honda CR-V trundled up to the parking lot in front of the dorm, tinted windows rolled up and a deep thrumming jarred the glass. Knowing it was move in day she drove carefully. No need to mow over tearful parents bidding their babies bye-bye. It rolled right past general parking and up front and center to handicapped parking. For a moment it idled before the automatic back hatch clicked and rose open. The roar of drums and guitars filled the air as Dani Filth raged into the void. Just as soon as the sound started it halted to sudden silence and the driver door opened.<br/><br/>Irene stepped out of her glossy SUV and winged the door shut. Straight, brunette streaked blond hair was scraped back into a severe bun. Black Oakley sunglasses shielded her green eyes from the warm Floridian sun. She wore a simple grey tank-top with the Gadsden flag snake printed on the front in a horribly cartoonish way. Rather than the traditional "DONT TREAD ON ME" it read "NO STEP ON SNEK." Tattoos covered her muscular arms and peeked out from the top of her tank-top along her chest and back. Black leggings tightly fit to the contours of her legs and backside. In one stretched pocket sat her iPhone, in the other a pack of Marlboros and a lighter. A pair of ankle high boots finished the look, if it could be considered one.<br/><br/>It had been a long drive and she took a moment to lean against the door and light up a cigarette. That sweet nicotine rush invaded her head. With a new car there was no way she was smoking in it yet. Didn't want to lose the new car smell too soon. The smooth Marlboro was gone in just over a minute but a minute was enough to survey the arrivals and the dorm building. Stamping the cherry out on her boot she walked to a nearby trash can to toss it out properly. Her gait was odd when she turned back. A pivot on her left and slightly awkward hobble on her right then it was off to the hatchback of her car.<br/><br/>Irene grabbed her large, green, duffle bag and slung it onto her back then grabbed a large box that clinked and jangled as she hefted it up. She waved her right foot under the car and the back hatch closed by itself. Best invention ever. Holding the box tightly she headed into the building to check out her, hopefully, temporary digs.<br/><br/>Passing 103 it appeared someone had already arrived to claim a room. The barest of glances in wasn't entirely promising. Irene kept walking, marching really, her pace swift and purposeful. 109, she stuck her key in and opened the door. Desolate. Spartan. "I've been in nicer barracks," she grumbled to her self and marched to the far bed. She wasn't a fan of sleeping near doorways. The box was set gingerly on the bed, the duffle dumped to the floor like last week's garbage. Not taking a moment to check out the room she headed right back out for the rest of her things. Another large, green duffle slung over her back, a backpack slung to the front of her body, another box balanced atop the backpack (only slightly obscuring her vision) and a half folded garment bag. Her whole life packed away into four bags and two boxes. She'd lived rougher.