Rubbing his eyes and taking another look around, the freshly shrunken freshman immediately got several clues about his current location. To his right were a few cabinets filled with cum-stained anime figurines and sex toys of every shape and size labeled "COMMUNAL," and to his left were a half-dozen deflated-looking bean bag chairs, many sporting visible skid marks. Behind him was a ratty futon covered in spicy chip bags, more empty energy drink cans and yet more sex toys, and a wall covered by posters. He recognized some, like Loona from Helluva Boss, the Onceler, and Lucario from Pokemon. Others, a mix of anthropomorphic animals and anime characters, not so much. Putting all this together, he knew that there was only one place he could be. This was House Proserpina—the sorority known to everyone else at Ventus as the "Loser House."
If the jocks in House Diana were the strongest students on campus, the nerds in Minerva were the smartest, the goths in Juno were the scariest, and the e-girls in Fortuna were the hottest, the losers in Proserpina were the grossest. For over a century and counting, legally mandated to exist in perpetuity thanks to a stipulation in the school's founding charter, the house had served as a literal dumping ground for "problem cases" from the other Big Four sororities—a place that prided itself on never turning anyone away, no matter how feral, foul or fetid they might be. Within its run-down walls, coasting on "Academic Recovery" scholarships and the willful neglect of school administration, the gooners, femcels, and shut-ins of Ventus were free to give into their most slobbish, hedonistic tendencies without tainting the school's otherwise stellar public image or corrupting their peers—and for everyone else, its name was synonymous with the lowest of the low.
As much as this helped Max get his bearings, it didn't make him feel any better about whatever he'd woken up to. If anything, it only made him feel worse. From what he knew of the Loser House, it seemed highly unlikely that anyone in here would have the drive or willpower to help him find a way back to normal. Rumor had it that half the girls in here never left their rooms at all, and the few that he'd seen around campus were pretty far from the first people he'd want to run into like this.
The first girl that came to mind was Hazel Berry: a plump, 6-foot buck-toothed gooner, House Minerva reject and certified genius. According to the rumors Max had heard over his first few weeks at school, she was widely considered the smartest person at Ventus—but rather than putting her immense intellect to work in a subject like genetic engineering or quantum mechanics, she chose to divide her time between a variety of kinky inventions and a serious gooning habit. Knowing that he was now roughly the size of the average butt plug, Max wasn't sure how much he could trust a girl like that. Still, for all of her wild card tendencies, he also knew he'd be hard-pressed to find anyone else in House Proserpina who'd have a better shot at helping him get back to normal.
Then there was Daisy Flores: the 6'4", 375-pound junior known to most current Ventus students at "Buttzilla." Though Max had never seen the physically and literally massive shut-in with his own eyes, he'd heard enough horror stories during his orientation to know that she'd be the single worst person to find him in here—a bona fide campus boogeywoman who preyed on unsuspecting male students, carrying them back to her den and leaving only a telltale stink in her wake. Just the thought of what she might do if she came across a guy like him was enough to make him shiver. His only comfort was the knowledge that she took all of her classes remotely and rarely left her room during the day, which made him think his chances of running into her were slim.
The only other Loser House resident he could think of was the place's current dorm mother, Quinn O'Donnell: a plus-sized, thirty-something Irish woman. Compared to Hazel and Daisy, Quinn was a bit of an unknown quantity for Max. All he knew for sure was that she had a background as a musician and was trying to pivot Prosperina into some kind of performing arts house—although, based on a story he'd heard about her skipping a faculty meeting to jack off in her room, she wasn't entirely above the house's traditional feral tendencies herself. Still, in a house full of deeply irresponsible young women, she was the closest thing to an adult.
None of these options gave Max much to work with. Nevertheless, whether he liked it or not, he understood that he wasn't going to figure this out on his own. The only question now was whether to try venturing into the hall or stay where he was. Fortunately, or unfortunately, before he could spend any more time trying to game the whole situation out, he heard a door opening on the other side of the room.
When he turned around, he found himself face to face with…