#school news | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blankdblank · 2 years

Text

The White Dove Pt 10 - Furniture & Scholarships

Between the elegantly carved white shelves of this upscale candle and soap shop in Manhattan a familiar face had your brow tick upwards a moment. “Lt Rhodes,” you said with a quick grin seeing the soldier inside the candle shop that in the holiday hours you had been given a trial run on the sales floor part time to simply fill in gaps on shifts until they shut down for the holidays. “You like candles?” You asked in his shift around a display you were refilling as you spoke from the hefty box propped on your hip you held with ease careful not to trouble your dress uniform that for you felt a bit too close to a stewardess uniform for your liking.

“A bit, I um, I just wanted to tell you, someone blabbed on the Blackhowls.”

“I didn’t,” you said and he shook his head.

“No, no, we know who it was. One of the guys took his demotion a bit sour, went to a bar and blabbed to the press. He’s being handled right now, but there were so many people and they snuck into the base apparently and stole a few pictures of the test launch. So we are getting ahead of the horse and buggy to keep this straight on and not deflect anything from the real story.” In his shift on his weight on his feet your manager had looked over spotting your own possible first customer of the day across the crowded sales floor. “We wanted to warn you we’re running your name and wanted to see if you’d let us post your picture as well. If not we have tons of side images from the build with ample information we can shift onto your crew, and I mean your crew, the ones who you didn’t want to hurl out of that hangar.” He said making you smirk at the statement.

“You can use my picture, and my name. They don’t want to believe my birds can fly that’s on them.”

“Good, and we’re gonna do all we can to help with the press, just say you’re just a regular kid and not a show bear on a pogo stick.”

“Now that’s a new level of terrifying,” you said making him chuckle and bring out his phone to show the article draft you with one finger skimmed through and then said, “It’s good. What’s the title? Going ‘girl wonder’ opposing like what they did with Stark?”

“’They’re Not Propellers’,” he said proudly making you giggle and help him pick out a couple candles to keep the cover that you were helping him decide for a girl your age, a family friend. After he gave his confirmation that tomorrow morning when the story broke in the Times Magazine and a few other publications to cover any other stragglers the other guys might have gone to in the science and aviation fields that you would get hard copies of each to hold onto.

Already the General had a verbal lashing from hell by Fury on how they could let this happen and they were certain to aim the focus on the return of the DC-3 and the new IED tech that had been invented and patented in your name to not let anyone else take credit. American steel and an American classic aircraft were coming back with the military snatching up each and every usable body left in aviation graveyards to ready the new face of the gas free fleet to come. It could fly and handle like no other, and with more tests the new craft was sure to be armed to a specific job they deemed it perfect for with its qualifications.

All day Sunday aviation fanatics and experts alike were on several stations as Rhodey made the press announcement himself to get the word out how it was meant to as the face of the pilot who had flown the new craft to give first hand experiences on how it handled. By Monday your name off the lists of accepted scholarship funds and universities had removed your applications to add to the more prestigious list of candidates to have applied to be reviewed more thoroughly unknown to you. While at school faces lit up and ample copies of the various printed magazines were flashed your way in both excitement and jealously from a select few who chose to criticize rather than congratulate.

Your teachers seemed to be the most excited and even had you sign their copies they were going to have framed alongside scanned copies of each page inside for a collage on the walls displaying their most accomplished former students. Like other resurgences of classic models in various other modes of transport this vintage craft had been brought back with a major facelift that only left hope for a glance back at other classic models in the future to rehabilitate their images as well.

$30, that was your commission from this week and after you had deposited the rest of your check into your checking account for your rent to yourself you hummed an old song from home and found yourself stopped on the sidewalk peering into the front window of the second hand furniture shop.

It was late and would be sunset soon after your spare post school shift at the candle shop to help out the manager who got another girl to cover the first half of the shift a girl didn’t show up for. It would be rude to go inside and browse as you tended to linger and stare at pieces. And yet all the same the elderly Russian owner eased his sweater more across the button down shirt covering sweater vest layering his chest from the 2 degree chill that was below zero with the wind that kept blowing the free half of your hair into your face. To the door he hurried and said, “Parade girl,” once it was cracked turning your head from the tree shaped side table in the window that had apparently trapped you here. “We are open, out of the cold.”

“Oh, thank you,” you said hurrying the few steps to the door to be closed inside, “thought it’d be a bit late to browse.”

“Oh we stay open this time of year. Snow keeps people longer to travel here. Antique season, so we have sales to clear clutter.”

“Okay,” you said and he went back to his counter as you began to weave through the shop to get a better look at the table in the window. The $490 price tag for the marble marvel you had mistaken for wood had you step back and almost collide with a round copper paint drip styled side table. That and a second tree shaped table, this one in dark wood, had you crouch and look the duo over.

“The pair for $45,” the man said having come to check on you after his former sorting task of blank receipt spools and price stickers was through.

“Oh, I only have thirty,” you said and his hand rose to point your way.

“Sold,” parting your lips in his move to grab the copper one and carry to the register as it clicked in your head that you apparently could barter here instead of just honoring the price tag. Behind him you lifted the heftier wooden tree one to carry that you settled down beside the copper table.

In his path around the counter to ring up the purchases your eyes shifted to a solid mahogany wardrobe that you could fit inside of both the upper half with double doors and each of the drawers underneath that reminded you of the one your father had said his great great grandfather had carved from his furniture company and passed down eventually to him. A spare one he kept for the house as he did for his favorite pieces etched with Norse imagery all around it. “You want that?” He asked turning your head back to him.

“Looks like one my great great great grandfather built. Never find them anywhere even online.”

“$60, and we deliver for you.”

“I, I don’t have any more money.”

“I see you all summer, back and forth, I hear food venders you work four jobs. Good girl, in school, in parade and still below freezing and you walk to work three times a week, snow, rain, wind, you are good for the money. What else do you want. You only bought one table last I seen you.” He said and with the wardrobe notes he said, “Annoying man said he would be in tomorrow for that, I sell to you I don’t like him. Fancy shoes and shallow pockets in bartering.”

Unable to help it you smiled to yourself moving closer to confirm by the markings that it was an authentic piece made by your ancestor on your way to keep browsing. It all was a bit hilarious you imagined what pieces you had stopped at. A white cloud shaped couch that sat on the ground was marked down as well to be delivered that he called a pair of younger men from the back to carry the pieces to be loaded in the delivery truck with extra care.

Three chairs after that had you freeze and him sigh, “Some odd man drop these off and my niece paid thankfully next to nothing for them. No one take second look at them.” The one chair a blue whale, complete with the white belly and chin to the black embroidered seam of a mouth ended by two black cloth buttons to mark the eyes. Round bodied with tail arched up to a flat angle like a mini table for an elegant back almost like a musical note from the side was beside a flatter brighter blue chair that had the tail in a 90 degree above up from the back without a body of the whale to finish the look. Beside them a regular navy blue armchair sat decorated with white whales paired with a cute whale throw pillow in the same material.

“I’ll take them,” you said and his brows arched up in intrigue.

“$30, more than we paid,” he muttered noting the trio the men would carry to the register.

Two tree lamps he also despised not having sold were added for cheap. One with tiny lights at the end of the dark silver branches beside a black tree that appeared to have grown over a stained glass egg where the light went were added to your pile of purchases on layaway.

The hilarity came however in the tallest of the offered lamps that surely would be close to touching the ceiling of your apartment. Three claw footed metal floor lamps shaped like branches with a bend near the top topped by ostrich feathers around lights in white, coral and dark grey that reminded you of something right out of Dr Seuss. “And these too?” You asked and he nodded noting them and helped you to carry them to the register. There he got your address and the guys were off to meet you there as the man told you that they wouldn’t be able to deliver the rest and you looked at the rest of your purchases splitting them into more manageable groups mentally.

“I, um, how late are you open?”

“Ten,” he said and you nodded.

“It’ll take a few trips. I can get them home.” You said with a grin. And to his amusement and help with the door he watched you hoist up the regular shaped armchair with the tree table on top of it for the heaviest and most awkward you used one of your grappler chains to tie together and the stained glass tree lamp behind the throw pillow to keep it safe. And out into the frigid slap of wind you hurried in your boots, open jacket showing your jeans you pulled on under the dress uniform for the candle shop to keep your legs warm at least on the trip to work and home again.

Down to the subway you caught stares of people on the street and in the platform as you held the chair and table on your shoulder like an absurd prize on display until you got into the train to set it down then lift it again for the trip to your apartment. Snow had begun to trickle down from the darkening clouds above in your trot from the subway to your front stoop where you finessed the doors open and your way inside to race up the flights of stairs.

Inside your apartment you left the trio side by side in your kitchen to keep space for the larger pieces later then locked up to race back to the subway and then once at the right stop back to the store to grab the next set. The arched musical note like whale next, with the paint splatter table and second lighter lamp was easy to maneuver with your chain to let you grab the coral feather lamp for a more amusing trip back. Right through the same subway station past the again smirking man on shift inside the ticket booth who watched you vanish post maneuver with the absurdly tall lamp and oddly shaped chair. Children especially were amused in crossing your paths at the strong tiny woman speeding about with such fun things they wanted to buy when they were older for their own dream homes.

This time when you got home however the delivery truck had just pulled up and you hurried to get inside and set your things down I the lobby. Out of his office the Landlord paused and you flashed him a grin, “Hi, I have a furniture delivery, can I leave these here? No more than twenty minutes.”

He nodded and pointed at the things, “Half an hour and they are in the street.”

“Yes sir, thank you.”

Within a couple minutes the two men had the heavier wardrobe on a set of straps used to help move cumbersome pieces of furniture and in this stair happy state they were not happy but didn’t bat an eye when they had to climb the several flights of stairs with it.

Through the door you unlocked for the duo they carried the hefty piece and to the telling noise of moving men the two oldest women on the floor had taken to pretending to speak outside their side by side apartments even though they didn’t speak the same language. All to watch over the young woman they knew to live alone who for their comfort had only had company just the once aside from the last fire alarm and filter check by the landlord. Along the wall you wanted it they situated the wardrobe and went to grab your couch.

That break granted you the chance to hurry down and hoist up your things for the landlord who was watching the door the duo had kept propped open with a brick they brought from their truck to keep anyone else from coming inside. Just barely fast enough he saw you before the lobby clutter was seen halfway up the first flight of stairs making him smirk at his tenant’s odd choice of furniture after so long with just a couple pieces to have been known to purchase aside from worn or eaten necessities for daily use. By the time they came up again you flinched out a grin and showed them where to put the couch, on the right of the bed to have the wall it faced as your new mini theater where a screen had been hung by you the week prior.

Around their arms they gathered the straps and you looked through your apartment and went to your kitchen where you grabbed a package of muffins that you weren’t able to eat. This pack had come in a split flavored pack with the ones you had wanted that you guessed you might have to save the others to take to school and offer there but without cash to tip you approached the duo who turned to face you. “I don’t um, have money to tip you, but would you like some muffins?”

That had them grin and accept one each from the package, “I have some blueberry v8 juices too if you’d like drinks too. I know it’s cold and, there’s a good bit of stairs. Thank you,” you said offering them the drinks you had fetched in their agreeing nods and showed them down locking your door behind you. Their thanks came after large bites of the muffins with hold of the container that had two more in it to help fill them up in their drive back in the growing snow that surely would take longer. And before the women across the floor from the place and the landlord knew it the truck and yourself were gone for your sprint back to the subway to get back to the store on time.

In a skid you were seen to be back again for the shop owner who smiled at your final hoist of goods in what was an intriguing third trip before his men had gotten back. Though he did relax that you said they had just dropped off your things and were on their own way back again to arrive on time to lock up for the night. And of course when they did get back the owner was very happy after hearing about the two pieces of furniture you had that he had granted you the credit to get you off the floor at least halfway into this week of winter weather off the cold floor in the heat free building they shared you lived in.

“I like your style,” you heard chuckled from the ticket booth man. Making you giggle and shift the final whale chair and two feathered lamps in thanks on your way back into the subway to head home for the final time so you could change and put your feet up with something to cook for a very late supper before bed.

Forced grins laced the ride to each and every person who stole a smirking glance to the teen with two massive feather topped lamps and a bright blue whale fin chair. The trips should have taken longer but with just a few people on the road outside your stop contradicting the usual steady crowd that would have been there had it not been belting tiny pellets of ice in the thickening snow. You continued through the apparent gale that lasted a good block until it suddenly died as you turned down your street blocked by a row of buildings the wind whipped over the top of to wail down on those on the road behind your building as it plummeted down again in the wider gap to the next building over.

A parked suv and a body rocking on its feet outside your building had your brows furrow to the best of their ability now stinging still from the wind you had left and coated in snowflakes to keep the chill on them. “Oh, hey,” you said reaching the stoop where you finally recognized one of your friends who had apparently been pressing your buzzer for the third time thinking you just hadn’t heard it in impatience to speak to you.

“Hey,” he smiled seeing you in his turn at the voice he heard to watch you trot up the steps with the absurd amount of awkward furniture in hand. “There you are.”

“Hope you’ve haven’t been here long.”

“Oh no, few minutes,” he said watching you adjust your keys to unlock the front door and let you both in.

“Come in,” you said letting him in the still cold lobby where you set the chair down and let the lamps stand up, “Bought some things for myself.”

Softly he chuckled eyeing the lamps, “Nice, I like the colors.”

“Thanks,” you said and asked, “What brings you out here? Don’t you live on the other end of town?”

“Ya,” he said excitedly, “But I just couldn’t wait till tomorrow!” He said making the corner of your mouth tick upwards as you shook the snow off your hair, clothes and subtly wiped your face to get the but still there to every excited plume of warm air leaving his lips.

“You know we had that big boring dinner for my dad’s job, no fun at all, but all these big wigs from the ‘top Ivy League schools of the country’” he said with a elongated tone as if to mock someone who had urged him to go with that. Rolling his eyes after to blink back into his excited grin, “and we were seated with the ones from Harvard and Yale, and they were talking about you! All night, even kept flagging down others on their trips to the bar to keep up their bragging war on where you might pick to apply!” He said making you smile as well, “So you better keep an eye out for acceptance packets because word is out you are school hunting and they are vying to be snagged in your net!” His eyes shifted to the door hearing the engine rev outside and he huffed and leaned in to give you a quick hug, “Have to go or he’ll start doing doughnuts or something equally as ridiculous to keep his horn phobia, just honk, see you tomorrow!” He said and turned to let himself out.

“See you,” you said and grinned to yourself when he was trotting down the steps to head for the warm car. Up from the chair in front of you your eyes rose to your landlord who had come to see who was in the lobby again and you smiled saying, “Sorry last guest.” Your smile spread when you said, “Harvard and Yale reps were talking about me.” You said making him grin in watching you lift your things to trot up the stairs for the last time that night, “Night.”

“Just nice to see you have more furniture. Food is nice but you need more than that for the soul to survive.” He said with a pointed grin your way widening yours in a glance at him before he was out of view. All you wanted was to be inside of your apartment and to not have to race back and forth from Manhattan anymore today. And two flights away your pocket buzzed warning of a text message that had you curious on what it could be for at this hour on top of the visit from your friend.

Outside your door gently you rested the back claws of the lamps to adjust the hold of your keys to unlock the door, the creak of another pair of doors had you turn your head to grin at and thank the two women who had been your chaperones who both had waited up for you to return again. Both who grinned in return to your thanks for their help earlier before they wordlessly sealed themselves back into their apartments. Shaking your head you pushed away thoughts on why they never spoke to you and simply finished unlocking your door that once open released a flow of warm air out over you. Halfway home this time your bees cranked up the heater to have it warm when you returned for good.

On the other side of the door you let out a breath and set down your things to lock the door and shrug out of the coat that once shaken over your tub for any snow was hung on the hook on your closet door would hopefully be dry by morning to wear to school. Awkwardly you bent forward to take off your boots to settle beside the heels from the bag you used to hold your change of clothes left here on your first stop hours earlier. Flat footed post shake of partly numb hands had some blood flowing a bit faster to get your jeans and dress uniform off to hang up to dry so you could change into something warm. One handed as you did you read the text from your friend, and grinned at his asking, “Do you have heat in your place?”

To yourself you chuckled and responded, “Yes, they have a curfew in the lobby and turn off the heat at a certain hour to encourage not lingering.”

“Good,” popped up in response on your screen rapidly. Followed by, “Goodnight.”

All ready in your fridge pieces of a supper were added to a pan and slid into the oven to cook while the furniture was arranged. The place wasn’t too terribly large and yet even with the few large pieces you had chosen it all seemed in perfect ratio to still leave ample space to move about. In the corner you made a small reading nook of sorts with two of the whale chairs around one of the smaller lamps on the drip table. Beside the couch you settled the tree table and the last of the chairs leaving you to turn around wondering where to put the other lamp. So on the end of your kitchen counter you settled the other lamp and to the bubble of emotion to the base of your throat when your eyes scanned over the wardrobe again you turned to lift your ostrich feather lamps to settle one on other side of it and one by your closet.

You had to acknowledge the piece and warm tears obscured your vision on the way to the wooden magnet. All day you hadn’t touched it and across the doors your palms rested to support your forehead through a hushed whisper of, “Thank you, for finding me.” Quickly you sniffled and tilted your head to the side in a try not to cry harder so you could say, “I’ll protect you, I swear,” three, now you had three pieces that your ancestors had touched to cling to. Open eyed once the doors were opened each small engraved marker that this was one of his signature pieces cemented this all the more that this was a piece of your history to cling to. Reminders of who they were and what weight your name and lineage had to help keep you from shattering at the loss of your parents and all they couldn’t share on that past resting solely on you to continue now.

“Blankets,” you said and started to grab your spare blankets and towels to add to the wardrobe to have something to use it frequently so that it would not feel abandoned and could be touched daily or close to that since it now gave you the feeling that it was warming up again. Less for the temperature outside but for it being cherished again and no longer neglected, it had a few scuffs on the legs but those could be mended easily and have it looking pristine again.

It knew, that was how you could place that feeling, the wood it was hewn from knew it was safe and cherished now giving you the sense that had it still been a tree its branches and leaves would have stretched with pride and now it was growing stronger. This was why you often chose products from animals or wood to have some sense of earth around you at all times to give off these feelings so that even here in this cold lonely city they all reminded you of where home was. A safe place that was yours. Supper however broke the focus on that task to shift the momentum to readying that meal you would now eat at your coffee table that you pulled closer to your cloud couch to a film.

“Gerry, ooh, remind me to write down the money I owe on the furniture before bed.” The bee who was currently floating around the lamps to inspect them all with glee that mainly helped you to keep your schedule chirped in response. Already you had started to eat and moving was not a possibility not how your body felt at the thought of doing anything else. Note was made and you mentally worked up a plan. As you laid in bed still playing the show you had chosen days mentally were marked off until the bank would clear the check from the military you could withdraw the amount to pay this debt off right away and move five grand to savings and half of what was left to your rent account.

Eight letters were added to your bag on the way to school holding results from your scholarship contests you had entered. Three classes and lunch was all that you could last, or at least two and a half until after you had finished a test you brought those out. Five letters, even though they didn’t have much substance to them were barely able to be read before a hand came over to touch your arm. Off the page your tear filled eyes landed on your teacher Max who when you didn’t get up at the bell whose lips parted at the tear that dropped down your cheek.

“I’m late,” you said and tried to gather your things with stunningly numb hands after a dab of your cheek with the underside of the sleeve pinned to your wrist.

“Pluto, what’s wrong?” He asked kindly in Swedish, “Let me help you.”

Another tear fell and you shifted the letters closer to him that he lifted one of, “I didn’t get the scholarships.”

That had his brows furrow instantly in confusion and a twinge of anger, “None of them?”

Quickly you inhaled to fill your lungs and answered as calmly as you could in patting your cheek dry noticing the students for the next class coming in that had you grab your bag, “Apparently someone called the Air Force who said how much the Blackhowls cost and they assumed that was what I was paid in full. I almost didn’t even get paid at all if it wasn’t for a Lt Colonel, they wanted to put all the money in a trust until I was 24, I only got paid the base hourly for their engineers to be given something and that’s not even a year’s rent.” On your feet you rose gathering the other letters while he read the one in his hands growing more irritated in guiding you to his desk to sit down.

“Give me a minute,” he said leaving the letter with you, “I’ll write you a note, let me get them their exams.” The confused students stole glances at you as you took a tissue from the box on his desk to pat your cheeks and neck dry from another stray tear and tried to stop this urge to just blubber like a baby at something people face every day that had been a wrench in your plans.

Exams were passed out and onto the chair beside the one he had guided you to take on the end of his desk he settled down to take more of the letters seeing the same ineligibility due to recent income that you had not included on your application form. “This is all of them?” he asked lowly and looked at the still intact envelopes crinkling slightly in the tight grip you had on them.

“I have three more,” you inhaled and off his desk he grabbed a letter opener figurine in the shape of a tiny replica of a film sword he offered you hilt first.

From his hand you accepted it and sliced the three open that you handed back with one of the letters you pulled out but couldn’t open until he said, “This one you get five thousand.” He said and looked up at your face causing you to open the letter in your hand that was for another five thousand, “See, some intelligence at last, the final one?” He asked and you opened the final letter that had you let out a puff of air reading that this one had granted you ten thousand dollars but had a string attached.

“This one says I have to send a copy of a confirmation letter from a New York university or community college.”

“I know you applied to several and even Princeton since New Jersey isn’t so far.”

“I could manage late classes or weekend schedules if I had to.”

“I have a friend in Columbia, we helped you with your prompt ideas for that application, I can call and try and feel out if they might be able to tell one way or the other.”

“I-, I wouldn’t want to, bother the system.”

“Oh no,” he said shaking his head, “People check all the time when they are legacies or have connections there. On your own before the plane they would have been all over the chance to get you on their roster. For now, I will write you a note and you, do not worry about this, I will get to the bottom of this and I will catch up with you after your rehearsal today alright?”

Softly you let out a breath and said, “This is just, I shouldn’t be so upset.”

Instantly his hand rested on your shoulder and he said, “You are not overreacting. We have been there, I got turned down for so twenty cash contests and had to scrub cars and boats and even buildings on anything I got called on, on top of a job in a store to pay my own way. This is not even a bump in the road, and you will get more offers, trust me. This is the normal flow of this process.” Using the pen on his desk he wrote a note excusing the tardiness and out of the seat you stood adding the letters to your bag and off to your next class you went where the teacher was glad to see you and accept the note from you on the way to your empty seat.

“Raul, it’s Max.” Conversation built from there as he tried to lure in a casual conversation on his lunch break to speak with his friend who was also on break between classes. “You wouldn’t happen to have an ear close to the application committee, would you?”

“Depends which parent has pressured you to check. You can ask but I can choose not to answer.” Raul answered playfully making Max roll his eyes. “Name?”

“Pluto Pear.”

That had Raul sit up in his chair, “If you are joking with me we’re no longer friends. Max, Pluto Pear wants to come to Columbia?”

“We have a few teachers who helped her grasp the goals of the prompts for the application essays, including one for Columbia.”

“You aren’t kidding. Max, you’re sure she is considering Columbia?” he asked with emphasis on the last sentence.

“Columbia is on her short list with Princeton, which just got bumped off.”

“How so?” Raul cut him off growing more excited at this news.

“She got approval letters for scholarships today and the largest of them has a term that she has to attend a school in New York. Some information got mixed on some others and she didn’t get all the ones she applied for and she is facing this process on her own unlike other students. I don’t need a definitive answer, just that she could be in consideration.”

Raul let out a disbelieving breathy chuckle, “At 14 years old she revolutionized the Aviation industry, she is the short list. I will tell you this, we will be booking her for a tour, in the very least to get to see how we can get her locked on Columbia.”

“You check with what you have to get back to and let me or her know about that tour and I will give her a bit of a boost of hope that she’ll get a pretty thick envelope soon then.”

Raul shifted in his seat and answered, “I’m going to let you go, Max. I have to go and toss a molotov cocktail in the committee room,” All Max could do was smirk to himself and hang up at the news he got to share with you while Raul did as he said and rushed to the room where a group of listless adults sat sorting through applications one by one as a group. Stating aloud from the doorway that Pluto Pear had bumped Princeton off their short list and was looking at Columbia thanks to a close source dropping jaws and having them scramble to dig out that application from those yet to be found yet.

A thumbs up from across the hall as you were on your way to change had you grin at the pre talk notice that things were so much better than you had assumed then to be a good sign for the rest of the process to come. Time alone was hard to get between higher hours of work after school and on weekends along with the Osborns, both Harry and Norman, who were raring to share their thoughts on the confirmed brilliance you had who tired to slip in to whatever free time you tried to have. Nothing about them gave you any comfort and thanks to your heavy work schedule next to theirs helped to get some distance between the three of you and grant some space to breathe.

Like others had assumed not a week later a stack of University packets found you remaining late on an afternoon free of rehearsals with Morita and the teachers on your team who with the help of a free dry erase board pros and cons were named for each school. All to suit the needs of what the future plans could be towards a degree that could be flexible to build upon no matter the direction you chose to go in the future. Leaving just Columbia by the end of the day where Max confirmed he would go with you on a scheduled tour that was fit in on the weekend to confirm if it would be the right fit.

Dressed warmly and nicely alongside your teacher who had picked you up to drive you himself at the threat of more snow the drive had him sharing what he knew of the campus to try and keep you calm. Once there however Dr Otto Octavius and Dr Curtis Connors, the two top scientists heading the most expensive research programs housed within the Columbia campus Science Department, were there to greet and show you around. The pair who were eager to hear through what you recalled of your parents on what they had worked on and researched. Only as much as you were willing to discuss on this clear sore subject before they would try to explore what field you might grow into as well.

Brilliance was obvious, alongside amusingly enough for them as your own teachers prized the truth that you were young and still discovering that for yourself. Sciences and Mathematics were a given for majors to be joined by an admirable minor of Literature and Mythologies that you had taken an interest in.

The basics were your goal for now and by the time you had your first level of degrees you would have more money saved up to keep going on to hopefully the next level of degrees, of which you would know where to aim your focus. The duo at least alongside others were content with a job well done in the fact that you had all but bought a school sweater and hat to show that you were choosing to attend this prestigious school.

Where plans of what could be had begun the news exploded with word that Tony Stark had been found. Found and up to apparently his own form of vengeance as he lit up the world shortly after with a simple phrase, “I am Iron Man.”

Pt 11

All –

@sherala007, @mariannetora, @jesgisborne, @knitastically, @catthefearless, @theincaprincess, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000, @alishlieb,

Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore

X Loki - @pastelhexmaniac

#Escaped Child Assassin #Snowfall #Furniture Shopping #link to the past #School News #Connections and Plans #I Am Iron Man #Marvel #James Rhodes #Blackhowls

11 notes · View notes