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southernreaperThere is something about freedom, away from the Mansion that is refreshing. They're paying for his college education, but no one needs to know that. He hauls the last of his bags to his room, says good bye to Mr. Rasputin - chosen because his flesh form is far less well known than most of the others - and then goes about setting up.
He'd protested coming to the university. He doesn't need a college education for what he wants to do but the seniors at the Mansion had insisted. Not only had they insisted, but someone - he suspected Summers - had applied and gotten him accepted to the college without his knowledge.
Alright, so maybe his poetry was decent. Maybe. But he only did that now and again. His real interest? Metallurgy. Get him with metal scraps and heat and he was a happy person. He wanted to be a blacksmith/weapons maker. He thought that was the bee's damned knees. But, they'd insisted on a college education, and here he is with a double major in Metallurgy and Creative Writing: Poetry, with a possible double minor in Geology and Chemistry.
He's going to be busy at all times. But it'll be worth it, right?
When the door opens, he tenses. No one should be walking in here. Yes, there are two beds, but he'd thought that the seniors had gotten him a private room. "C'n I help ya?" He asks, turning around. He's standing there in long sleeves and gloves, despite the warm weather. It's going to be a long semester.
He'd protested coming to the university. He doesn't need a college education for what he wants to do but the seniors at the Mansion had insisted. Not only had they insisted, but someone - he suspected Summers - had applied and gotten him accepted to the college without his knowledge.
Alright, so maybe his poetry was decent. Maybe. But he only did that now and again. His real interest? Metallurgy. Get him with metal scraps and heat and he was a happy person. He wanted to be a blacksmith/weapons maker. He thought that was the bee's damned knees. But, they'd insisted on a college education, and here he is with a double major in Metallurgy and Creative Writing: Poetry, with a possible double minor in Geology and Chemistry.
He's going to be busy at all times. But it'll be worth it, right?
When the door opens, he tenses. No one should be walking in here. Yes, there are two beds, but he'd thought that the seniors had gotten him a private room. "C'n I help ya?" He asks, turning around. He's standing there in long sleeves and gloves, despite the warm weather. It's going to be a long semester.