The Tiberius J. Swann Education Facility

Who: Aimee and Miklos
What: Domestic cuteness
Where: Their apartment on campus
When: Monday night?

Aimee had been in the lab late again. When she arrived back at the apartment, she'd kissed Miklos and gone to take a bath, rinsing the remnants of her research of of her hands and the smell of dirt (which apparently was noticable to those with overdeveloped senses) from her skin and hair. Once she was sufficiently clean, she stepped out of the hot water and pulled on a pair of shorts and a tank by way of pajamas, sliding a soft bathrobe over the outfit.

She padded barefoot into the bedroom, her long legs bare below mid-thigh, her wet hair over her shoulders. "I feel like we scarcely see one another except at bedtime," she said, settling into the chair next to him, glancing over to see what he was reading.

She fully intended to distract him from his book, but they could start slow. She leaned her head on his shoulder. "No trouble with students yet, I hope?" she asked. "One of my sponsored students seems as if he'll be difficult. Of course, if you ask Blake, I might be a difficult student myself." The last was said with a slight frown. She wasn't sure how she felt about the witchcraft thing at the moment.

Who: Aimee and Blake
What: Learning about witchcraft
Where: Blake's office
When: After lunch

Pursuing witchcraft hadn't been an idea that Aimee had seriously entertained for centuries. Not since she'd been turned, certainly, but even before that, once her family was gone, it had seemed her chance of learning was dead with them. She could have found her father, but that was simply out of the question. He had abandoned her family when they needed him most, left them to die. That was unforgivable.

Now, over three centuries later, she was finally approaching someone about her gifts. She had been uncertain even after the journal conversation, but Miklos had urged her to take a chance on it. He was right. It was a part of herself she had never explored. She wasn't one to leave territory uncharted if she could help it, and a centuries' old grudge against her father was no excuse to deny herself this knowledge.

Now, here she was, standing in front of another witch's office door, feeling nervous for the first time since she could remember. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and rapped on the wood firmly. There was no turning back now. She deserved this.

Who: Aimee and Sydni
What: a reunion!
Where; A lab that Aimee has apparently taken on as a second home
When: Tuesday afternoon

Aimee had been counting and recounting and recording and cross-checking samples since nine o'clock that morning, and it was definitely time for a lunch break. She had drank the contents of one blood bag and now was attempting to enjoy herself with a book and a cup of coffee by means of a "relaxing time." She wasn't quite ready to leave the lab, but her white lab coat was laying over a chair near the microscope and her notes were neatly set aside while she perused the pages of the volume in her hands.

Of course, it wasn't what most would consider pleasure reading. It was a text on precambrian rock structures in Africa. Fascinating to her, boring to most.

After an hour or so of reading had passed, her eyes were beginning to tire and the research was calling her again. Of course, Miklos was probably ready for her to come back to their housing at some point, but he was accustomed to her long hours in the lab and knew that she likely wouldn't be back until dinnertime at least.

One more chapter, she told herself, and turned the page to read some more.

Who: Aimee Vassar and Ethiel Windsor
What: A meeting between student and sponsor
Where: Science lab near Aimee's office
When: Thursday, before lunch

Aimee had been in the lab since seven o'clock in the morning. She had risen early, trying to keep her naturally nocturnal internal clock on school time, which meant being awake during the day instead of after the sun set. She'd put a post-it on her office door with directions to the lab in case any students needed her, and then took off for the familiarity of microscopes and specimens. She had brought as much of her research as she'd been able to salvage with her from the old school, but a lot of the specimens would need to be recounted.

She would need to essentially start from the beginning. So for hours, she leaned over a microscope, counting microscopic single-celled organisms taken from specimens of populations. After so long, her eyes were tired, and her back was beginning to ache slightly from being leaned over for so long.

She stood up straight and stretched, yawning a bit before she readjusted her lab coat and started counting again. The door to the lab was open in case anyone needed her. One hand adjusted the focus of the microscope while she kept tally with the other on a sheet of graph paper, utterly focused so she didn't lose count.