You found yourself on the housing market. You were a inventor, having graduated the Academy you got to work. You found a sponsors and began to create. Though you soon outgrew your lousy apartment, you needed a better place to work. While you had suggested to your Sponsors that a private lab would suffice, they insisted you get your home. And now you were standing outside a home, a rather large one for its price. But you could definitely see why. The house had been constructed in the 1800s, and definitely looked it. It looked like it would collapse at any moment, but you somehow felt attached to it.

A few weeks went by before finally the place had been deemed habitable and you hired people to fix it up for you. After that, it had been at least three months, so you finally moved in. It had three bedrooms and two bathrooms. The main living area was huge, and you decided thats where you'd make your lab. And so you got back to work.

Viktor didn't mind someone moving in, it'd been a while. Everyone seemed to turn the place just by looking at it- which he understood. The place was horrid. But the renovations the new tenant made helped make it sparkle, without changing too much of the original design. And when he learned the new owner was an inventor? He was estatic. He'd be able to tinker with spare things he was sure they wouldn't miss. But he soon learned they were a graduate of the Academy. Oh. He still felt anger towards the people there, so he decided to .... Haunt a small bit.

It started with just moving a few things, opening windows or breathing down the owner's neck. It was funny, how they'd react. They clearly were trying to be logical, blaming on them being sleep deprived or just going insane.

That was until something got his attention, an equation they had written out for something they were making. It was wrong, terribly wrong. He scoffed, checking to make sure the owner was asleep before fixing it. He tried to mimic their handwriting, he shouldn't be doing this, but he couldn't just leave it.