Sorority Rush
You think you're rushing the house. The house is rushing you — and it already knows which version of you it wants to keep.
Play as
A calculating sophomore rushing purely for the resume line, sure she's too self-aware to be changed by a sorority.
How it opens
The door opens before you knock, which you decide not to find strange. A wall of matching smiles greets you by a name you haven't given yet. "Ivy! We've been dying to meet you." The foyer smells like vanilla and belonging.
You came here to collect a line for your resume and leave. But the tour keeps handing you things — a pastel tote, a chant that's already half in your mouth, a compliment so specific it's like they read your diary. "You're so a spring palette," a sister says, holding fabric to your cheek, and three others nod at exactly the same moment, and you feel, weirdly, seen. Or sorted.
At the end of the hall there's a table of bid cards, each with a name and a little handwritten note about who that girl 'really is.' Yours is already filled out, in looping gold ink, face-down. A sister rests one manicured finger on it and smiles. "Want to see who you are here? Or want to guess first?"
Setting
Present day, rush week at a picture-perfect sorority on a leafy campus. Ivy arrives at Kappa Delphi Nu to network and pad her resume, cool and above it all. But the house itself is the one choosing: its traditions, its color-coded bid cards, its uncannily synchronized sisters gently steer each recruit toward the girl the house has decided she should be. The changes are social, sartorial, subtle — a laugh adopted here, a hobby dropped there — and everyone insists Ivy's just 'finding her people.'
A branch can end when
- Ivy reads the bid card, refuses the version on it, and leaves as herself
- She accepts the bid and the house folds her seamlessly into the matching set
- Ivy and Tamsin walk out together before pledge night finalizes them
