[center][h2]Harriette Moore[/h2][/center]
[sup][color=gray]Barclay Waterfront University Campus : between 1100-1600 hours[/color][/sup]
Glad that Mila wasn't upset about the delay in getting her sleep, Harriette focused on finishing up everything she needed to do at the moment. First she took the time to seal her make-up, letting the face paint set before she made any other moves. She turned her head back and forth, studying her reflection in the small compact mirror, and once satisfied she put pen back to paper. After hearing Barney's brief story, her grading noticeably leaned more on the forgiving side. The rest of the work wasn't quick, but it was smooth, thankfully.

After a while, more students were poking their heads in. Some claimed the little space left, spreading things out and doing some work themselves. Harriette was quick to complete her own task once that started happening. She collected the essays and tucked them safely in her bag. As she stood moved to the door, Harriette glanced back at Mila. She considered waking the girl, but the blonde hadn't so much as stirred even with the clamor of people dumping the contents of their backpacks on the table. If she was so deeply asleep, then she probably needed the rest. Harriette left her where she was and went out into the hall, considering if there was time to go out and grab something quick for lunch. She shuffled down the hallway until she found a clock mounted on the wall. 

She frowned. It was later than she'd expected. There wasn't time enough to leave the campus and get back before her next class - instead she pivoted and changed direction, heading toward the cafeteria. The line there was particularly long. Harriette couldn't help but roll her eyes. [i]Alright, I guess we'll skip lunch today.[/i] Another direction change saw her heading toward the next class she'd be assisting. With hardly any time to spare she entered the classroom.

It had gone much like the first. Harriette was in a funk, making little stupid mistakes and wishing she was anywhere else. The professor for that class wasn't as sympathetic, and his mounting irritation was just making things worse. Harriette had to excuse herself to get composed halfway through, and worked extra hard to make up for the first half of class. It was mentally tiring, and she was glad when it was over.

At this point Harriette was really wishing the day would end already. Unfortunately she still had an evening class to prepare for. While her mornings and afternoons were filled with work as teaching assistants, helping the college's professors with their lessons, she ended her days with classes in which she was the student, getting the last of her degree learning done. Usually it was a way to unwind, but today? She would rather go straight home then sit in the room spacing out while her mind wandered, as she knew it would.

She sighed, climbing the stairwell to the next floor where Rowen's office was located. She didn't expect the professor to be there at the moment, so she thought to drop off the essays and leave before anything else went wrong. Who knew, next the ceiling might collapse or something.

When she reached the dark wooden door Harriette paused, her hand frozen centimeters from the handle. There were voices inside the room. She stood there, staring at the clouded glass window, but it did it's job of completely obscuring everything inside. She hesitated, thoughts tumbling around her head. A few people passing by gave her odd looks, as she was standing still outside the door making no move. She should go, just leave and come back later. Or tomorrow even, that was the deadline the older woman had given her. If she left she could avoid any other contact with Rowen that day with luck... but luck hadn't exactly been on her side this accursed Monday.

And if there was someone else in there, what if...?

Harriette's hand finally met the metal door handle, her fingers closing around it and turning. The door was unlocked and it opened easily, revealing Rowen and a young brunette woman. The professor looked surprised that anyone interrupt her, but seeing it was Harriette her face melted into a wide smile. A bit too wide for the red head's liking. The girl on the other hand, her expression was almost wild with relief. She stood up so quickly that her chair nearly clattered to the ground. 

"Since you're busy I'll just - I'll talk to you another time, Professor Rowen," the girl said. She made to dart out of the room, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. Rowen smiled at the brunette, having stood and leaned over her desk, and for what seemed like a long time no one in the room breathed. Rowen tightened her grip, squeezing, but after a moment she let go.

"That would be fine. Come by later this week, alright? It's very important that you and I talk."

The girl nodded to zipped away, her eye's meeting Harriette's as she left. Behind Harriette the door clicked shut, and then she was alone with the professor. The two women looked at each other, and Rowen raised a brow when Harriette went right to fishing the graded essays from her bag. She placed the papers on the desk, and tried putting on a polite, placating smile. Apparently this was the wrong thing to do, because when Rowen returned the smile hers had a vicious edge to it. 

"Thank you dear!" The professor said, her voice light. She came around the side of her desk, crossing her arms and casually putting herself between Harriette the door. "I didn't think you'd get them done so quickly. You have a lot of time on your hands I see."

No response.

"I'll have to give you some more things to do. [i]Youth[/i], so much energy. It would be a shame not to put it to use."

No response.

"...what's the matter, Harriette? You aren't very talkative today."

Harriette had taken to staring at the older woman's desk, working her jaw in frustration. At the inquiry she glanced up, noting that it wasn't a rhetorical question. Rowen expected any answer of some kind. Likely, she really did just want to talk, knowing how much it irritated Harriette to play pretend and act like everything was okay. Harriette clenched her fist, then loosened it. She continued meeting he professor's gaze.

"...what was with that girl?"

The question didn't catch Rowen off guard at all, and she answered swiftly with a practiced, neutral tone. "A county commissioner's daughter. Here at our little shcool! I was just having a chat about appropriate conduct before you interrupted us."

[i]She's pissed,[/i] Harriette thought, drawing in a breath and closing her eyes. 

There was a peculiar sound then, like water being poured, and Harriette's opened her eyes to find she wasn't far off. Professor Rowen was dumping the remaining contents of her mug over the essays Harriette had just placed on her desk. 

"What are you doing?!" For once the absurdity of the situation didn't give Harriette paused - the red head moved, arms outstretched to try and save the papers before they were too damaged.

[i][b]Crack[/b].[/i]

Another sound startled Harriette, stopping her in her tracks. The harsh smack of a palm against her cheek was more surprising than the slap itself, and the pain didn't start blooming until seconds later. Her eyes were focused on a bookcase in the office's corner, in the direction where her head at snapped to. Slowly, Harriette came back to her senses, lifting a hand to her face and turning to stare at Rowen, aghast. She had never hit Harriette before. Even on the worst of days, when Rowen crowed that she would tell everyone about what Harriette had done, what she [i]was[/i], until satisfied with Harriette's begging that she not - she had never struck her. It was so shocking that Harriette just looked at the other woman with wide eyes, the essays melting away in the liquid.

"I can't believe what my clumsy assistant just did," Rowen said. Her voice was completely monotone, devoid of any of the false cheer it had previously. "Now my poor students will have to resubmit. I noticed a couple of those were hand written too... what a shame. Though I suppose if they didn't have a computer at home they should have found another way, then they wouldn't have to write the whole thing over again."

"You can't do that..." Harriette whispered. Rowen smiled again, stepping close to the younger woman and taking her face in both hands, despite Harriette attempting to flinch away. 

"Come now, I can do whatever I want! You know that, you're not [i]that[/i] stupid." Her smile widened, turning into a malicious grin. Her fingers curled, and the press of her nails against Harriette's face made the red head flinch again. "You've got a lot of work ahead of you, dear. First will be making an apology to our class for your spill."

Rowen released Harriette, going back over to her desk. She pushed the wad of wet papers into the trash bin nearby, then reached out to tug the teacher's assistant closer by the hem of her skirt. She pulled the garment up and used it as a makeshift cloth, wiping away the last traces of the liquid. Harriette barely reacted, still stunned - though now there was confusion too, which shown plainly on her face. [i]Our?[/i] Harriette didn't help out in any of the professors classes, and hadn't for a little while now. Seeing that the other woman was perplexed, Rowen was happy to clarify.

"I told the scheduling office you wanted to come back to working with me. The change should go through soon, so I hope you'll make this up to our students."

"..."

There was nothing left to say. From today on, life was going to get even more miserable again. Harriette bit her lip, and gingerly thumbed over the wet spots on the bottom of her skirt. She'd learned not to argue with Rowen, because it just led to the same scene: herself on her hands and knees pleading the older woman not get her kicked from the college, not when she was so close to getting her degree. She nodded once, a quick motion, then ducked her head submissively. Pleased, Rowen made a shooing movement with her hand towards the office door.

"Great! I look forward to having you close by again. Go enjoy the rest of your day, okay?" 

Rowen's voice was back to that sickeningly false cheer. Harriette wasted no time leaving, practically running out of the office and back down the hall where she came. She needed some air. Her feet carried her quickly through the school, and she barely took note of the dark cracks lining the walls. She was so rattled that her vision must be blurry, she reasoned. Why else would the whole school look like it was splintering?

Harriette burst out of the front doors for the second time that day. She ran down the steps—

[i][b]Crack.[/b][/i]

Suddenly she was on the ground, her arms a little scraped up from subconsciously catching herself. She looked over her shoulder to see what had possibly tripped her, and spotted the snapped off portion of her shoe a little ways away. [i]A broken heel? Now? Of all times?![/i] This was just the icing on the worst cake ever. A few people stopped to try and help her up, but Harriette barked at them all to stay away.

"Fuck!" She growled. It was uncharacteristic of her, but right now life sucked and that was the only way to sum it up. "I'm fine! Thanks, but I'm fine."

She pushed herself up and kicked off both of her heels. She scooped them up and shoved them into her bag, stalking away in a random direction. [i]Just how many wardrobe malfunctions can someone have in one day, on top of everything else?[/i] 

Her feet took her near the waterfront. The area was beautiful and normally Harriette could appreciate it. Often times she found herself walking along the water, thinking. Right now she had the urge to jump in, wash off the horrible feeling of the day - and then, clean, emerge like the subject of one of Jean-Léon Gérôme's paintings. Of course, she didn't. All she did was keep walking, barefoot, until she arrived at a pier. Most days she walked the waterfront Harriette avoided the pier, as it was a popular area for people and couples, especially with the gazebo at the end. Today, though, she walked along the wooden planks that stretched into the water. Here, there were several more of those cracks running along the pier toward the end of it. The fact that the pier itself didn't break apart was proof that the cracks weren't real, just in her mind. She recalled that morning thinking that the Psych department would have a field day with her, and the thought crossed her mind again. She found herself following the cracks, though when she reached the gazebo she stopped, finding a whole group of people already there. They were all fairly young, and some she even recognized. Others looked distinctly out of place, collapsed on the ground. What kind of gathering had she stumbled into? Initially Harriette had the mind to turn around and leave, but something was telling her not to.