Hall Ecosystem Guide: Species Catalogue

Welcome to Raffles Hall: A Comprehensive Field Guide, your indispensable manual to understanding the diverse, chaotic, and occasionally unhinged species that inhabit this storied ecosystem. While other halls may boast architectural marvels or rich traditions, we boast something far more precious: an entire biodiversity of residents who thrive under conditions ranging from “freezing upper lounge AC at 3am” to “dining hall queues”. What follows is a scientific catalogue of the most common creatures that roam, study, eat, procrastinate, and emotionally spiral within these blocks we call home.

Proceed with caution. And curiosity.

The ecosystem awaits.

THE NOCTURNAL PROGRAMMER 

The Nocturnal Programmer is a highly specialized nocturnal organism whose circadian rhythm has long divorced itself from human convention. Thriving under dim lighting and the soft hum of air-conditioning, this species navigates hall life between midnight and sunrise, fuelled almost entirely by cold caffeine and existential dread. It communicates in short taps, frustrated exhales, and the occasional muttering about deadlines. Its natural predators include the daylight. (I personally encountered one of these elusive beings at exactly 2:05am while writing this article—watching him glide silently into the Upper Lounge was a humbling experience) The species flourishes during Week 13, when its population suddenly triples.

Habitat:

 Rarely spotted outside of their rooms; if you can ever spot one, it’s usually going to be in the dimly lit corners of the Upper Lounge. 

Conservation status: 

Definitely not endangered. Tragically overpopulated during recess weeks.

THE HALL GYM CREATURE 

The Hall Gym Creature is a robust, highly motivated organism that frequents the RH gym at hours ranging from perfectly reasonable to highly questionable. Whether spotted bench pressing at 10am or deadlifting at 11pm, this species maintains a strict devotion to physical excellence that is both admirable and mildly intimidating. Recognizable by their protein shake-filled water bottles and impeccable gym form, they often emit powerful gym grunts believed to serve as both communication and territorial assertion, and can be seen performing ritual mating displays involving mirror selfies. Conflicts have been noticed sometimes when someone doesn’t re-rack their weights, usually resolved by intense side eyes and dramatic sighs. They feed primarily on chicken rice (double meat), whey powder, and pure confidence. Though typically friendly, they possess a dangerous tendency to coax unsuspecting passersby into joining “a quick set,” a trap known to derail entire evenings.

Habitat:

 RH gym, lurking near dumbbells heavier than your GPA.

THE ENDANGERED SLEEPER

The Endangered Sleeper is one of the rarest species within the Raffles Hall ecosystem. Rumored to maintain a stable bedtime of 11pm and wake up naturally at sunrise, this creature defies every known behavioural pattern within hall life. Its existence is often disputed, with sightings remaining unverified and usually attributed to hallucinations from sleep-deprived witnesses. The Endangered Sleeper is believed to possess traits such as discipline and time management—qualities incompatible with academic deadlines and hall events. Conservationists hold out faint hope that this species may one day thrive again, but at present, it remains critically endangered and on the brink of complete mythification.

THE LAUNDRY GREMLIN 

The Laundry Gremlin is a notoriously nocturnal creature, best identified by its unwavering loyalty to doing laundry exactly at 3am. It materialises in the Comm Hall laundry area, carrying a massive heap of clothes and an energy level that does not match the hour whatsoever. This species appears almost allergic to daytime laundry; attempting it during normal hours would cause visible distress. Instead, they thrive in the peaceful stillness of the night, commandeering dryers with silent determination. Their movements are quick, dart-like, and often accompanied by a persistent aura of sleep deprivation. Once finished, they scuttle away into the corridor darkness, leaving behind a warm dryer and the faint scent of detergent.

Habitat: 

Comm Hall dryers area between 1am and 4am and occasionally the corridors, when shuttling damp clothes like a gremlin. 

THE DAWN WAFFLE HUNTER

The Dawn Waffle Hunter is a rare and remarkably disciplined species, emerging from its nest before sunrise to secure the sacred waffles, scrambies and pancakes at 7:00 am on Thursdays and Fridays. Their punctuality is unparalleled; these residents queue with a tranquil determination that borders on spiritual pilgrimage. They enjoy their waffles, fully aware they belong to an elite few who’ve conquered the tyranny of early mornings. (For the record: I have never once eaten a RH waffle because I have never woken up at such a deeply unethical hour.) The Dawn Waffle Hunter retreats quickly after obtaining its prize, vanishing into morning light like a myth. Their biggest threats include 8am lectures and the seductive pull of snooze buttons.

THE CCA ADDICT

The CCA Addict moves through Raffles Hall with velocity, purpose, and in at least seven different committee T-shirts. This species is never found in its natural room environment; instead, it migrates through Comm Hall, lounges, and rehearsal spaces on a tight rotational schedule. Known for cheerfully insisting that every CCA is “just a small commitment,” the Addict thrives on chaos, group chats, and late-night planning meetings. Despite alarming sleep patterns, it remains astonishingly functional, operating on sheer enthusiasm and the unshakable belief that burnout is merely a suggestion. Their conversations often begin with “Omg I’m so busy but it’s okay HAHAHA,” followed by a tragic recount of their week that contradicts everything they just said.

Habitat: 

Can be spotted anywhere but in their rooms. 

THE CORRIDOR INSTRUMENTALIST

The Corridor Instrumentalist is an auditory-based organism most commonly associated with Block 3. Rarely seen but constantly heard, this species communicates exclusively through echoing guitar strums, trumpet blasts, and occasional mysterious sounds that are yet to be traced back to a source. Their music drifts through the corridors at random late-night hours, loud enough for the entire block to hear yet somehow impossible to track back to a specific room or human being. Over time, residents have simply learnt to accept this soundtrack as part of Block 3’s environment- somewhere between mildly amusing and mildly inconvenient depending on how stressed they are that week. 

And with that, we wrap up this little field guide to some of the creatures that roam, nap, panic, and mysteriously play instruments around Raffles Hall. As the semester winds down and the collective chaos settles, the hall finally slips into a quieter rhythm—almost like the ecosystem itself is taking a long exhale. The war is finally over, and a well-earned winter break awaits all surviving species. May your sleep debt be repaid, your laundry be done at reasonable hours, and your waffles be plentiful.