A picture is worth at least one college lecture
Who: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers
What: Color & composition.
Where: NYU Steinhardt
Tony had been dropped off at Stark Tower soon as his jet had touched down in NYC, not bothering to change into a suit while he checked up on base operations and generally lorded over his employees. From the tower, it was just a matter of catching an early cab to get to the East Village; he briefly considered driving there himself, but he'd wanted to keep a low profile in the first place, and a really nice car was not going to help things.
Now, standing on the curb of Washington Square East, Tony felt as out of his element as it was physically possible for him to be. Whatever NYU was, it was not MIT, and that was the one college campus he could tolerate getting lost on.
He glanced around warily. He hadn't explicitly said he'd see Steve for certain, and hadn't bothered following up on information other than your basic campus map and background in the few minutes he'd had before the cab came to get him. He'd managed to search for Steve Rogers on the school database and come up with his office hours and list of classes he taught - he'd said Color & Composition was one of them, Tony remembered that much - and there was apparently a lecture on that at 9:30. In which building was the problem.
He reached a out a hand to catch the attention of one of the students passing him by. "Hey," he said loudly. The kid stopped. He had dreads tied back with a bandanna, and looked less than eager to speak with him. "You know Professor Rogers?"
The kid shook his head no, and then paused; a surprised look came over his face. "Whoa," he said, in a low drawl, "you're that guy on TV."
Tony rolled his eyes. "Do you know where the arts lecture classes are held?"
The kid pointed, still slack-jawed. "Barney, usually. A lot of shit's in there."
He nodded and set off at a fast walk towards the building. He repeated the Q&A process with a few other students, and eventually found a few who were on their way to Steve's class and were perfectly happy to sit with him if that was okay, Mr. Stark, sir. Tony grimaced and declined hastily, breaking apart from the group and finding a seat in the back. He couldn't see if Steve was already down front and center or not from the milling students trying to grab their ususal seats, but the class was due to begin any second, and he was sure to have a clear view soon enough.
What: Color & composition.
Where: NYU Steinhardt
Tony had been dropped off at Stark Tower soon as his jet had touched down in NYC, not bothering to change into a suit while he checked up on base operations and generally lorded over his employees. From the tower, it was just a matter of catching an early cab to get to the East Village; he briefly considered driving there himself, but he'd wanted to keep a low profile in the first place, and a really nice car was not going to help things.
Now, standing on the curb of Washington Square East, Tony felt as out of his element as it was physically possible for him to be. Whatever NYU was, it was not MIT, and that was the one college campus he could tolerate getting lost on.
He glanced around warily. He hadn't explicitly said he'd see Steve for certain, and hadn't bothered following up on information other than your basic campus map and background in the few minutes he'd had before the cab came to get him. He'd managed to search for Steve Rogers on the school database and come up with his office hours and list of classes he taught - he'd said Color & Composition was one of them, Tony remembered that much - and there was apparently a lecture on that at 9:30. In which building was the problem.
He reached a out a hand to catch the attention of one of the students passing him by. "Hey," he said loudly. The kid stopped. He had dreads tied back with a bandanna, and looked less than eager to speak with him. "You know Professor Rogers?"
The kid shook his head no, and then paused; a surprised look came over his face. "Whoa," he said, in a low drawl, "you're that guy on TV."
Tony rolled his eyes. "Do you know where the arts lecture classes are held?"
The kid pointed, still slack-jawed. "Barney, usually. A lot of shit's in there."
He nodded and set off at a fast walk towards the building. He repeated the Q&A process with a few other students, and eventually found a few who were on their way to Steve's class and were perfectly happy to sit with him if that was okay, Mr. Stark, sir. Tony grimaced and declined hastily, breaking apart from the group and finding a seat in the back. He couldn't see if Steve was already down front and center or not from the milling students trying to grab their ususal seats, but the class was due to begin any second, and he was sure to have a clear view soon enough.