Post by Deleted on Nov 13, 2014 1:00:51 GMT -8
His refusal was adamant, and when he saw the defeated face of the student, Heracles’ heart soared victoriously. There was also a slight hint of relief.
It felt nice to sometimes stick to his better judgment. A field school yielded some incredible finds, many of which needed dating to determine where in the lab they should be kept. Archaeology students knew precisely the sort of care needed when handling these objects. Everyone else? Not so much. Even when they did Heracles’ trust was limited, and he preferred not to risk his treasures in the hands of the potentially incompetent.
As much as Heracles hated to rely on others for his work, sometimes there was just no other way. He lacked a very certain and important specialty when it came to the sciences he enjoyed the most, and he had a hard enough time having any faith in other students' abilities to properly handle delicate matters, especially after the pottery incident the year before. Ever seen ancient pottery disintegrate before your eyes? It’s not a pretty picture, especially if you’re an archaeologist.
Unfortunate mishaps aside, Heracles was fortunate enough in his endeavors to find scientists of respectable quality to help with the most fragile items he found. Professional, degree-holding chemists were far better options than students who, despite needing the practice, had no business risking the destruction of important artifacts.
“Oh, I’m so sorry sir! The results were inconclusive. I’ll need to scrape a little more off the sherd—oh. It broke. Woops!”
Thankfully Heracles had Lukas to turn to. He was intelligent, talented, and of course knew how risky procedures could be. Well-learned, diligent, and careful. Just what he needed.
Heracles secured his box (which in turn contained smaller boxes) under his single arm and rapped his knuckles against the door to Lukas office, taking careful note to not knock too loudly in care he compromised a sensitive matter with his noise, and waited.
made by MISSOIt felt nice to sometimes stick to his better judgment. A field school yielded some incredible finds, many of which needed dating to determine where in the lab they should be kept. Archaeology students knew precisely the sort of care needed when handling these objects. Everyone else? Not so much. Even when they did Heracles’ trust was limited, and he preferred not to risk his treasures in the hands of the potentially incompetent.
As much as Heracles hated to rely on others for his work, sometimes there was just no other way. He lacked a very certain and important specialty when it came to the sciences he enjoyed the most, and he had a hard enough time having any faith in other students' abilities to properly handle delicate matters, especially after the pottery incident the year before. Ever seen ancient pottery disintegrate before your eyes? It’s not a pretty picture, especially if you’re an archaeologist.
Unfortunate mishaps aside, Heracles was fortunate enough in his endeavors to find scientists of respectable quality to help with the most fragile items he found. Professional, degree-holding chemists were far better options than students who, despite needing the practice, had no business risking the destruction of important artifacts.
“Oh, I’m so sorry sir! The results were inconclusive. I’ll need to scrape a little more off the sherd—oh. It broke. Woops!”
Thankfully Heracles had Lukas to turn to. He was intelligent, talented, and of course knew how risky procedures could be. Well-learned, diligent, and careful. Just what he needed.
Heracles secured his box (which in turn contained smaller boxes) under his single arm and rapped his knuckles against the door to Lukas office, taking careful note to not knock too loudly in care he compromised a sensitive matter with his noise, and waited.
