Calvin rolls his trunk into the tiny room, careful to drag it in far enough so that his roommate can get his own luggage through the door. It's cramped, but clean, and covered in bright colours that would appeal more to someone about five to ten years younger than either of them. Despite this, Calvin is excited. He's been trying to maintain some scepticism, but it's difficult when so many of his classmates are over the moon. He hardly knows any of the characters they're cooing over, and he absolutely will not be wearing mouse ears, but...

"This is fun," he concludes, and sits down on the foot of the far bed. His old steamer trunk (a hand-me-down from an uncle) is desperately out of place here. "Everythin's very... colourful. So many giant cartoon statues, lots of large letters with outdated slang plastered all over the buildin', hideous employee uniforms... Fun." His mouth says fun, his tone says amusingly tacky, I kind of hate it. "Do the, ah, actual parks look like this?"