The Labours of Men of Genius
To him, the outside of Gotham University would always look like a monument to an ancient civilisation, the old soapstone out of place in such a modern sprawl of society. Tony walked up the steps, following the footprints of every student who passed through the enormous archway into the main belly of the school. Even at the early hour, students were already beginning to amass around him. Most were too bleary eyed to catch more than a glance at the smartly dressed stranger in their halls. Some were more alert and cast a curious – sometimes surprised – glance his way. However, he was uninterrupted as he walked.
It didn’t take too long to navigate the halls – it was almost like all universities were set up in a similar way. The more important folks went higher up, further out of the way of the classrooms. God forbid a student should stumble upon their door – before he stood outside the office of the man he’d come to find. On the dark wood of the door shone a small placard;
Dr. J. Crane. Head of Psychology.
Tony peered over the rim of his sunglasses, his fist coming up to knock the door before resting on the dark would. He seemed to deliberate for a moment, lips pursing and head dipping fractionally side to side. After a moment, he knocked on the door, three heavy raps before stepping backward.