Charles needed this. Charles needed this, more than Charles even realized. It was a mission for good, it was an escape from his everyday world, it was proof he was not simply a beast and that somewhere beneath the grotesque imagery there was still a man who could do a lot of good for the world.

He went moving around the museum in a blur until he came a cross a simple vase they he may or may not have stolen or replaced on a fellow curator's desk with a ancient Egpytian Coptic jar. He came back and set the vase down next to the rock and once Arven arrived with the dirt well it was planting time. "Let's try half dirt, rock, other half dirt."

The rock was planted so to speak and there was a long moment of just staring at the planted rock. Nothing. "Maybe...uhm, maybe a few words, like an incantation...or wait water!?"

  

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Arven was surprised by how ornate the receptacle was — he’d been expecting a plant pot! — but said nothing. He was dealing with an expert, after all.

When their artefact was bedded and their experiment commenced, Arven nodded in agreement and immediately withdrew his wand. ”Aguamenti”, he muttered, and watered their potted relic. For a beat, nothing happened. And then…

The faintest green colour began to flood the engravings, like water down a fork of empty riverbeds.

  

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Charles stared with bated breath as they both watched over the pot, and then, "Something happened!" One would of thought in that moment that this was the first time the young curator had seen magic what with the excitement that twinkled in his blue eyes, but then the green began to fade. He frowned, "No....no! Why, why did it do that?" He pulled out his wand and spat rather forcefully, "Augmenti!"

The stone began to glow again as it was nurtured, turning green and then moss began to form over it's body. Charles stared at it, "That's it?" He looked to Arven. "Perhaps...perhaps Rome was not built in a day?"

  

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Arven watched closely with a crease in his brow, then straightened up with a “hmm” when the artefact seemed to adjust in a way they hadn’t expected. Operine was tremendously disappointed, and Arven understood why, but he shook his head. ”Indeed” — Rome wasn’t built in a day.

”If it were that easy, the elder I spoke to would’ve been able to fix it. I’d be happy to leave this with you for now, Mr Operine, but…” he glanced from the mossy item and up into his associate’s bright young eyes. ”We mustn’t let this get into the wrong hands.”

  

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Charles thought things over, technically the item hadn't been officially registered on the books, and so technically Arven had never arrived which meant--

Charles smiled, "Of course, won't be a problem, in fact nobody's hands will get on it but mine." He assured Arven, "I'll let you know when it's good to go and then you can get it back to Africa where it rightfully belongs." He smile and went about looking for a place to hide the pot until he could find a decent pot that didn't happen to be a registered museum heirloom. "It was uh...nice meeting you Mr Arven." Hmm where to put the pot? Work to do? Stone to work...hmm. The man was wrapped up in his task, but there was a certain delightful vigor to his walk and to his purpose.

  

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He was endeared by the young curator, and trusted him to some extent... certainly enough to leave him with a valuable item. Reckless trust like that was something of an adventure, and that was precisely Arven's cup of tea.

"Please send me owls with any updates". he requested, "Mr Operine". He held out his hand for a handshake, a smile playing around his eyes.

-wrap?-

  

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Charles shook his hand, his own palm firm to the touch and calloused like a beast's paw, the smile though was perhaps a bit off putting, however earnest it may be. "Most certainly! Pleasure working with you Mr. Fisk." As he let the hand go he went about stowing the precious item some place he would only know until his shift was up. A spark of hope was riddled in the amulet not just for the people it may provide sustenance for, but for him as well.

((wrap!))

  

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