ArchivedLogs:Vignette - The Ivory Tower

Vignette - The Ivory Tower
They haven’t seen disruptive yet.
Dramatis Personae Isra	2013-07-02 Isra gets kicked out of her doctoral program.
Location <XS> Roof
The view from up here is phenomenal, a panorama of the expansive Xavier's grounds, forest and lake and rocky cliffs alike. Even without the view outwards, the rooftop itself holds its own delights, in the form of the tiny jewel of a flower garden tucked away up here, tended by one of the school's teachers. From the edge of the roof, with a veeery careful jump, it looks like it just might be possible to reach the treehouse in the old oak tree. The sweltering heat and humidity of a hazy summer afternoon is sufficient to keep many students indoors. Even the hum of insects and chirp of birds seem muted by the oppressive clouds that just refuse to yield any rain. Isra, however, has found her way up as has become her habit of late. Wearing a ruby red lehenga edged in gold and a matching choli that exposes much of her back and midriff, she does not seem bothered by the heat. Under one long arm she carries a large brown envelope bearing her name and campus mailing address in elegant cursive, and a black brocade satchel hangs loosely from her other shoulder. She breaks the taped-over seal on the envelope and removes a stack of smaller envelopes--mostly standard businesslike #10s with clear windows for address blocks. While sorting through her mail, she extends her wings out slowly to their full length and hold them there like a sunning bird. The tips of the elongated phalanges that frame the batlike wings tremble slightly. After opening two bills and returning them to the envelope, she gradually retracts her wings and extend them again. Seeing the next piece of mail creases her brow with a deep frown. She hesitates, but finally does tear open the envelope that bears the blue crown of Columbia University and the return address for the Dean of Student Affairs. As she reads the letter, she subsides a little, her pointed ears flatten against her skull, and her wings dip, then withdraw and fold loosely against her back. She tucks the letter back in its envelope and the whole package into her satchel, coming back out with her mobile phone. Her hand is shaking a little as she scribbles on the screen with her extra-long stylus. Hardly a minute later, the phone rings in her hand as she is in the act of putting it away. She answers it. “You needn’t have called, Khalida. I knew this was going to happen sooner or later.” Isra fixes her eyes on the leaden surface of the lake while she listens to Khalida’s reply. “I mean to appeal it through Student Affairs,” she says, “but do not feel optimistic about my chances.” Another pause. Isra narrows her cat-green eyes at the middle distance. “They claimed I was ‘disruptive’. /Disruptive!/ This is not by any means a matter of conduct--not my conduct, at any rate. I am fully prepared to sue.” This time Khalida’s response is longer. Isra waits patiently. “I am prepared for that, too,” she replies at last, “but please don’t tell Father and Mother I said that. Look, I have a lot of paperwork to file. I will talk to you later.” She hangs up and heaves a long, deep sigh.