ante_luce | Some time ago I wandered off Down Under...

Here's proof I actually left the country and wasn't just hiding under my bed from the bunnies (in the first place, my bed has no space beneath it for anything, not even a shadow, which might be why the bunnies choose to hide everywhere else).

Ratchet insisted on accompanying me, because I’m “a fool headed organic who is likely pass out in some Primus forsaken corner and expire.”

Me: I have a cough and a sore throat, not the damn Ebola.
Ratchet: All the more reason for me to keep an optic and all my scanners on you! I have internet access too you know!

Anyway, the flight was an overnighter, and a peaceful one. Ratch’, after he took a look out the window to make sure nothing was on fire, spent most of the journey in my bag, muttering about him not being a flier-type. My comment about them traversing space in protoform just fine was ignored.

We visit my uni dorm. Still a beautiful place.
Ante: Don’t you look pretty there.
Ratchet: *glares*

The road up from the Medical Centre (where I did my honours year, and where we’ll be ‘visiting’ in the next few pictures) to the hostel, which goes through a pine forest.

My old desk in my honours lab. It was just as messy when I was stationed there.

My old workspace. Just like when I was in residence, it’s much neater than my desk. If you spot a bunny, I'll explain that in a bit.

Ratchet approves of a neat workspace. He knows that desks are a lost cause.

I had a (rare) spare moment (fear the bored honours student with access to tape and markers) in between experiments (this was before I apparently developed carrot juice for blood), and decided to ‘decorate’ my micropipette holder. Then I decided to decorate the rest of the holders on all the workspaces, so they’d match (Ante can has OCD?). Mine is the bunny one (on hindsight, the signs of my being bunny fodder really should have been ridiculously obvious).

Where I processed samples for experiment-y things. Yes, that is a jury rigged hand drill. No, the samples were not in some specialised holder, just my hand, a latex glove and a little plastic tube thing. Ratchet was predictably aghast, ranting over my lack of self preservation skills (I shut the lid of the fume hood while he chucked his fit), and now he’s muttering about following me to my current lab one day to make sure I’m not doing similarly silly things there.

Each one of there sample containers holds one experiment run. Yes, that’s a lot of runs, and I carried them all out near the end of my project in the space of… 6 weeks? In between bunny attacks, of course.

At the hotel, they gave us complimentary welcome noms. Chocolate dipped strawberries, anyone? I pay no mind to a certain medic’s opinion on the nutritional content. It’s fruit. It counts.