The room was large, almost covering an entire floor, the walls lined with shelves stacked high with strange bottled chemicals, vials and jars of oils containing metals, liquids, and ground dust. Each of them meticulously labeled and weighed. The floor was, unlike the rest of the house, set with tiles. In the centre of the room, along its entire length, were three tables aligned in a row. One of them had a lit bunsen burner heating a vial containing boiling water.<br/><br/>On the other side of the room, Kenton was standing in front of a computer typing in the findings of a recent experiment. It was a new hobby of his: chemistry. Every century, as a way to keep his mind from going dull, he would pick a scientific field of study -- one that could challenge his mind -- and stick with it. Perhaps long enough to make a name for himself in the science world. Or at least that was the goal when he was younger; nowadays it was more just for the slight thrill of human advancement.<br/><br/>For all their faults, humanity were ever resourceful. He'd watched, slowly, as civilizations rose and fell, humans stubbornly trudging forward towards enlightenment. At least some of them. Most were, alas, no better than cattle. Only difference being they could speak and share ideas, but otherwise they were base creatures filled with an endless supply of arrogance and a bottomless pit of stupidity. It was only because of the very few they managed to survive this long.<br/><br/>And he was endlessly fascinated by it. It was why he chose this course, to strengthen and hone his mind, so as not to become like the rest. Constantly learning from the most recent sources and studies. Trying out experiments on his own.<br/><br/>And yet, despite this exercise, the weariness couldn't be kept at bay. No matter how hard he tried. Live long enough and nothing matters anymore; everything follows the same patterns continuously and after having seen it hundreds of times, it has become a sort of grind just to live. There was little reason for it anymore, but life was endless for him. Like a malicious, twisted leech; instead of sucking life away, it pumped more into him, watching with wicked fascination as he lumbered on, desperately trying to find any sort of meaning to the monotony.<br/><br/>It amazed him, in so many ways, that humans longed for long lives. There were given, in his opinion, the greatest of all blessings.<br/><br/>Kenton turned back to the boiling water and walked over to the shelves, his finger tracing the various containers for the one he wanted before he suddenly paused.<br/><br/>His eyes narrowed.<br/><br/>He sniffed.<br/><br/>There was a stranger in his home. He dropped his hands, walked over to the bunsen burner, turning it off, then made his way out of the lab.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center">----​</div><br/>"If you wanted a look through my collection," he said, stepping into his study, hands behind his back, amber eyes on the strange woman in his chair, "you could have knocked. My doors are always open to those who seek knowledge. But I don't take kindly to trespassers and thieves."