Way Off Track
Sixth Try
Nameless faces were all Clover saw on his way home, much to his chagrin. As University Station came and went, all he could was sigh, lamenting the paper still sitting within his bag. He was so ready to go to Beacon and try his luck finding the stranger- or, at the very least, finding his department building and giving it to a secretary. However, a call from his landlord about a burst pipe necessitated an immediate return home, so his errand had to wait another day, simply adding to his never-ending pile of things to take care of before he lost his mind.
The burst pipe was nothing more than a minor annoyance thankfully. It did mean that he wouldn't have hot water for a few days. Clover didn't mind- he'd dealt with worse conditions in his first apartment in Vale, so he could put up with it for just a few days.
On Wednesday, Qrow was nowhere to be seen on his morning commute. Thankfully, Clover's lunch hour was unusually long that day after a client cancelled a meeting, giving him the perfect window to set forth. So, after reminding Marrow what he needed to do before he returned, Clover headed out to the subway.
He had never actually stepped foot onto the platform at University Station. To his surprise, it was far less decrepit than the other stations along the main line: fresh coats of paint covered up any graffiti that may have marred the adverts around the platform; beautiful, colourful murals lined the walls as he rode up the escalator to the ground floor; tiny, cozy coffee shops and corner stores welcomed customers within the entrance of the station itself.
Clover frowned, unease settling into his gut. Whether it was the City of Vale who made University Station so clean and well-cared for, or whether it was Beacon University itself, he didn't know. Either way, the clear difference between this clearly-affluent area and the cesspool of filth that made up the rest of the Vale Transport System left a sour taste in his mouth.
As he emerged from the underground station, his theories leaned more heavily on it being Beacon University itself that took the liberties to maintain their grounds so immaculately. Everywhere he looked, the campus grounds were covered in greenery, with perfectly landscaped gardens and shrubs lining every walkway. A large map greeted him on a giant tourist's board right past the subway entrance, giving him a sense of just how sprawling the campus truly was; each of the famous landmarks on campus were highlighted on the map, with clear directions to go to each one.
This whole thing is a money sink, huh? They probably have very inviting welcome packages for students, if all the glamour shots show this in the advertisements for the school. He wouldn't know, having been trapped in Atlas' prestigious university on a full-ride scholarship; the thought of exploring other schooling opportunities had never been an option.
Clover would've almost been impressed by the guts of it all if he hadn't been so disgusted by the clear disparity between Vale and Beacon.
His eyes traced the map, finally locating a small building tucked into the northwestern side of campus. SOCI. A long legend of acronyms tucked on one side of the large map explained that it was indeed the Department of Sociology's building, so after figuring out his route, he began his journey.
Along the way, classes seemed to end their session. Students of all shapes and sizes spilled forth from the buildings, half of them running across campus in sheer desperation to make it to their next class, dodging the other half of the student body who leisurely chatted with their peers as they walked along scenic sidewalks. Clover bit back a smile as a young man rushing past on a child's too-small scooter frantically tried to avoid a car trundling along the road. It was absolute chaos, so unlike the strict routines he had maintained in Atlas. And yet, he sort of found it refreshing. Just a bit.
He also noted with amusement that he, dressed in his neatly-pressed dress shirt, pea coat, fitted slacks and dress shoes with bag in hand, seemed exactly like the professors clearly moving between classes. It was an odd feeling, realizing that he fit in without even meaning to. It wasn't entirely unwelcome, though.
Finally, he found a large sign marking his destination. Department of Sociology. Alright.
Thankfully, it didn't seem like an incredibly busy building- the small offices lining the wall gave no indication of hosting any hidden lecture halls within, which was probably why. Clover peered around, trying to find any form of directory. However, all he could see was the small front desk, a bored woman watching him with a glint in her eye and a small, slightly coy smile on her face.
If he didn't have to see Qrow, it was probably easier. It wasn't ideal for Clover, however, who still wanted to hear that voice again.
Still, there was not much choice, and he wasn't interested in wandering aimlessly through narrow hallways until he could potentially find the correct office. So, he walked up to the woman and smiled, pulling out the paper from his bag. "Hello," he murmured, keeping his voice neutral and his smile alluring, just as he always did with his clients. "I was wondering if a Dr. Qrow Branwen worked here?"
"Why yes!" the woman responded delightedly, leaning forward on her elbows. Clover had to bite back his smirk as she obviously shifted to show more of her cleavage, eyeing him invitingly. "Would you like me to take you to his office?"
Yes, please- "I've just come to drop something off," he lied smoothly, handing over the paper, protective case and all. "I found this on the train the other day. I thought it would probably be best for the student to get their paper back."
The woman glanced over it, surprise filling her face. "You… really came all this way to drop off a paper?"
"I saw him drop it on the train after marking it," he chuckled. "No point wasting his work, and I've been due a visit out to Beacon anyways. It's no worry."
Impressed, she turned to put the paper into one of the mailbox cubbies lining the back of the small front office- presumably for the faculty. "I'll be sure to let Dr. Branwen know-"
"You called?" a low, husky voice called as the front door of the building chimed open, and Clover's breath stilled in his lungs, his whole body freezing as red eyes entered his vision once.
Well, hello Dr. Branwen.