Deer College Student Body Handbook
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Welcome To Deer

Deer is a magical place. Of course, you already knew that, it's probably what drew you here. But most of the admissions stuff is bullshit: it's for your parents more than you, to assure them that they're spending all that cash wisely. We asked prominent students to offer their thoughts on what incoming freshthings really need to know, and picked the only two that met our high editorial standards. And also one of them blackmailed us and the other bought us beer. Here they are.

Same As It Ever Was

Welcome, incoming froshmonds, to the worst four years (well, four point five on average, but who's counting?) of your life. In your time at Deer, you will experience terrors the likes of which you have never before seen: five-hour thaumaturgy labs, consecutive all-night cram sessions, bottomless mugs of cafeteria coffee, the all-seeing eyes of the community safety officers, and lurking at the end of it the Dreaded Senior Thesis. Your physical, mental, and spiritual health will deteriorate. You will churn out paper after paper, each on a subject more arcane than the last. Your parents will ask you what you're studying, and you will find yourself unable to answer. You will emerge from this experience a bitter, broken soul, who hangs around on campus long after graduation, hitting on people years younger than you in an attempt to relive the glory days before you were ground up in the gears of the terrible machine we call academia. Eventually, you will move on, leaving behind only footprints and terrible curses that will haunt campus for decades to come.

It's not all bad—in every dark cloud, there is a silver lining. You will meet exciting, interesting, and intelligent people, and form bonds with them that will last at least one lifetime, if not more. Your expertise in the mystical arts will be honed to a razor's edge, as will your ability to get that one libertarian in your philosophy class to shut the fuck up and let someone else speak. You will learn things man was not meant to know, perform deeds contrary to the laws of nature and of nature's god, and see the fabric of reality for the illusion that it really is—maybe even while you're sober. And when you're done, when you've slain the thesis snake, completed your group requirements, and walked across that stage at graduation, you will receive your final reward: a fancy piece of paper with your name on it, that's not actually good for anything in the real world because the FBI says we can't tell people where we actually went to school.

And at the end of the day, remember that it could be worse. You could be going to ICSUT.

— Mordecai Diabolus, Student Body President-For-Life

This Must Be The Place

Alright you're gonna have to just trust me: don't listen to anything Mordecai says, he's literally the Antichrist. I'm not 100% sure that they're gonna put his essay in, but he's got some serious blackmail material on the entire Student Senate, so it's almost a given. Thankfully, I can outbribe him any day of the week, so I'm pretty sure this message will get in there too. So, regardless of what he says, Deer Is Good. Well, the institution itself is fine, but the community and the people? Incredible. The professors are among the best in their fields, and most of the classes are small enough that you really get to know the people teaching you. There is always something happening on campus, whether that's a dance in the student union, an impromptu spell-duel on the quad, or even just a folk-music sing-along in your dorm's common room. Even the thesis isn't really all that bad, when you're in the thick of it; and if you choose a thesis topic you really love, it'll all be worth it.

That's not to say it can't be hard, sometimes. The administration, like with any bureaucracy, can be mind-numbingly slow to change; the CSOs will probably confiscate your weed once or twice; and there will, unfortunately, be people you don't like. The roommate who sexiles you while you're in the shower, the creepy alum who hits on you at a house party, and that one libertarian in your philosophy class who will not shut the fuck up (I'm pretty sure that guy is actually some sort of ancient curse or vengeful spectre, to be honest), these and more will be black marks on your time here. And sometimes, in the dark night of the soul that comes upon you when you've been awake for thirty-seven hours straight and your hands won't stop shaking long enough for you to type the next paragraph of your thesis, you will want to go back in time and warn your past self against coming here.

But even when Deer gets you down, remember that it could be worse. You could be going to ICSUT.

— Gwenhwyfar Thistlebranch, Student Body President-In-Exile

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