MORPH ✿ T. Stark's Daughter [Rewriting!]

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Most people in the United States will agree that Idaho is one big potato land. That the ratio of potatoes to humans is scarily close, and of course, they would be correct. Lenna was not a fan of Idaho. She didn't like the lack of people or the number of conservatives she found criticizing her behind her back. She didn't like how out of place she felt or how the citizens of Cadwell made her feel weak for having no parents.

She felt especially out of place walking home from her Catholic private school. That day, after
mass they had confessionals, and one of her favorite past times is making up ridiculous sins she had committed, but she hadn't been feeling good and had no energy to make up any. She left school that day feeling awful about herself, but the moment she set foot on Mrs. Dann's property her energy slowly started to come back.

"Yo! Williams!"

Lenna went to see who shouted her name but was tackled from behind. She let out a shriek as three kids pinned her to the ground.

"This is so unfair!" she shouted from underneath them.

The boys just laughed and crawled off her.

"You good?" A tall boy with blue eyes offered a hand to Lenna on the ground. He was clearly fighting to hold in his laughter from the scene he just witnessed.

Lenna smacked his hand away and grumbled as she stood up and brushed off her uniform. "Bitch. I just washed these."

He laughed loudly and hung an arm around her shoulders; his golden curls tickled her face.

"Oh, what a shame. C'mon, Jenny made a cake!"

Lenna allowed herself to be pulled along to the Manor as she knew there wouldn't be any left for the rest of them if they didn't hurry. Somewhere along the way, she found herself laughing and enjoying the four boys' company. Her earlier irritation faded away as they made fun of the youngest's crush.

"Wipe your shoes if you don't want to clean the floors later!" came the voice of the matronly housekeeper as the group burst through the front door.

The boys ignored her, scampering into the kitchen with dirty shoes, but Lenna wiped her shoes neatly and held them in her hands as she proceeded past the vestibule. She had to keep up her reputation as the favorite child somehow.

Instead of following the boys into the kitchen, Lenna made her way up the magnificent marble double staircase. Her hand brushed the brass handle as she marched to the second floor. The wool carpet hugged her feet as she pushed open the last door of the hallway.

Her room was small and square but neat. The bed took up a majority of the space and her desk sat in the opposite corner, hidden from sight upon entering the room. In the far corner of her room was a hammock where she would often curl up to read or to sketch. It was there she sought comfort after her long day. She opened the sketchbook she had filled with designs of inventions that she one day hoped to build--Grant, the oldest, would save her a piece of cake.

Mrs. Dann always said she had big dreams--that she was just like her father.

"Oi, Lenna! Danny's got 'er knickers all bunched up," said one of the staff, poking his head in her room. "'Pparently one o' the boys was caught 'avin' a fag* out in the fields."

[FAG = CIGARETTE or SMOKE]

"Christ--again?"

"Mhm. She found the butts in one of them bags and is 'avin' a go at ev'rybody unfortunate enough to walk into the kitchen."

"That's everybody."

"Exa'tly. You might wanna come down and 'elp 'em out."

"Not my problem," shrugged the girl closing the book of blueprints.

"Aw, you know Danny's got a soft spot for you."

She sighed. "Alright, I'll help, but don't expect it again."

The staff member cheered and slung an arm over her shoulders. "'urry along."

It took a lot more than a talking down to get Mrs. Dann to calm down. She was a stout German lady who was widowed a few decades ago after immigrating with her husband to Idaho. She set up a refuge in the middle of nowhere, welcoming kids (with no parents or, at the least, crappy ones) and provided housing and schooling as long as they obeyed her rules. Once the kids were legal--or if nobody had adopted them--she would send them off with a huge party, a starter car, and enough money to get them through their first three years of college loan free.

The refuge quickly became known as The Manor and had grounds comparable in size to a Victorian estate. The number of children and staff at The Manor grew from a handful to a hundred easily, and Dann loved each and every one of them.

"Thanks for getting us out of there," Grant said, wiping some sweat from his brow. "I thought I would die in there."

"Yeah, well don't expect it again. What were you thinking, smoking in the fields? You know she always finds out."

"It wasn't me I swear! Do you think I would ruin my beautiful, beautiful lungs with smoking?"

"Well, you better get it clear to the others that I'm not helping if this happens again."

Lenna flicked Grant on the forehead and retreated to her room, hoping for some time to work on her homework. She was only able to scrape half an hour of peace before she heard shouting outside.

Pulling her hammock to the window, Lenna was able to see kids swarming around the entrance. The sea of children dissipated as a 1962 Chevrolet Corvette slowly pulled further into the cul de sac and around the large fountain. Lenna released the window sill and tried to ignore all the shouting. Who the hell would just show up in the middle of the day, completely unannounced? And in that fancy of a car--couldn't be for her. Not in a million years.