Leaning on the counter that held his potions, he looked at the body that had been brought to him...a body that wasn't in his area of know how and a body that just gave an example to his point of saying that he was just an embalmer and not a medical professional. They hadn't listened, giving him a job that was meant for an unspeakable in the Ministry instead of him. Rubbing his face he was realizing that he wasn't really...going able to pull this off.
"For merlin sake..." He said as he walked out of the main room intro his office and took out a piece of parchment.

He'd have to call an unspeakable...get the body transferred...and from there when it was returned he could get it ready to be returned to the family. Or they could do the work in his area if they needed to, he really didn't care which they chose. His owl flew out of the hospital and the wait started, Ambrose figuring they would choose to transfer it for security reasons.

The wait he chose to do in his chair...having coffee, instead of looking at the body that he didn't know what to do with.
Last edited by Ambrose Noble on 24 Apr 2019, 22:58, edited 1 time in total.
A man in Unspeakable robes walked into the room, looking thoroughly put-out. He was clutching a roll of parchment in one hand, and a wand in the other.

"Why have you taken me away from my work?" Malachi asked without so much as a greeting. "The department head told me to come here. You could have sent the body to the Ministry."
The man was put-out? He was handed a body the looked like it could fall apart if he had so much of touched it....and the man was put-out. He re-joined the main room, his coffee having been put down by now.
"Maybe you need to ask the one in charge of who I work on that question." It was a statement. As much as this man didn't want to be here....Ambrose didn't want him here. There was always a reason one chose to work with the dead.

"See, That's where the problem lies." He mused. "I'm afraid this body might fall apart in transport." Meaning...'If you can safely move him, you can be on your way.'.
"But if you know a few tricks I don't on how to move a cursed cadaver...be my guest." He voiced those thoughts in another way.
It certainly looked like it was going to fall apart. Proper preservation of a cadaver was so hard to come by these days. Nobody gave death the respect it deserved. Not anymore.

Malachi frowned. "Why do you believe it's cursed?" And what would a simple undertaker know about the intricacies of necromagic anyway?
Walking to the table of items he was allowed to use he very carefully turned the mans head to show his neck. His habit of being obsessed with death was about to come to the forefront.
"These marks look like a curse that a man in the 16th century had, all straight lines with one circle." He explained.

"If this is a copycat of the same curser...none of my embalming fluids would stabilize this. Even my personal ones which I'm not allowed to use at the hospital." It seems the hospital was a lot more...strict than his old location.
At last, some vague semblance of curiosity crossed Malachi's face as he strode up next to Ambrose. Holding out his wand, he passed it over the symbol. Nothing appeared to happen, but Malachi seemed satisfied. He leaned closer to the neck, muttered something unintelligible, and straightened up. Conjuring a thick old tome, he began simultaneously flipping through the pages and pegging Ambrose with questions.

"What tests have you performed? How did you receive the body? How was it delivered? What's the body's provenance?"
He let the man work, leaning on the counter away from the body to give him room. His arms crossed, he watched as the tome appeared. While part of him wanted to question what laid within it's pages the fact he was dealing with who he was dealing with stopped all thoughts of even asking that question.

"Trauma, while there is some evidence of struggle and proof he survived the attack itself the trauma isn't what killed him. A basic curse test, which brought up nothing and wouldn't if it's the one in question. He ended up here for help only to become a personal guest of mine down here. As for where he might have come from he's a jane doe." He kept is simple.
All terribly unhelpful information. Ah well. 'How was it delivered?' he asked again, stopping on a page covered in symbols and very little text. The symbols drifted lazily across the page in every direction; occasionally one would glimmer. 'Through magical or mundane means? Did your supervisor transport it? Can you be sure it wasn't your supervisor who placed the mark there?'
"Both." He kept his arms crossed, "Strapped onto this same table and levitated." He responded. The last question he couldn't properly respond to...after all just the idea of assuming a healer was a curser? Wasn't what the new mortician of the place wanted start for the sake of it being wrong. Simply because of the degree of the assumption.
"I'm a hermit Mr..." He hinted for a name. "I don't talk to my supervisors. I do my job and keep my head low, I don't like people. Why do you think I prefer working with the dead?" He asked, clearing his throat.
"If they did indeed make those marks I would have no idea."
The hint sailed straight over Malachi's oblivious head and into the next dimension.
'You don't like people? That makes two of us.' Perhaps this man wasn't going to be a giant waste of his time after all. 'Never rule out anyone, including yourself,' he cautioned. 'Could've been an accident for all we know - wouldn't be the first time I've seen a body cursed by a confounded witch or wizard. Still,' Malachi peered closer. 'Doesn't look accidental. Have a look at that one spoke, pointing at his ear. See how it shimmers a bit? The curse is still active. Means two things.'

Malachi held up his fingers. 'One, if it's active, it can be traced. Two, if it's still active, it's still doing something, and I don't think it's just waiting for the body to disintegrate. Do you want to find out the source or what it's doing?' he asked abruptly.
'Guess he doesn't have a name.' Ambrose mused, but took it personal in no form of the word. After all it wasn't as if he wanted to ask the man for drinks after he got this body out of his working area. Never rule out himself? What in merlin did that mean? Was this man trying to hit every nerve in his body? This is why he didn't like people.
"Logically speaking, knowing curses can be tracked to the caster would I really have called one of you over after doing an unforgivable curse? Even if it was by accident? " He asked, Stepping over to the man while he pointed out a mark he'd missed. He paused a moment watching the shimmer.

Putting on a pair of magically protected gloves he moved the head over a bit to see if there were anymore as Ministry official spoke.
"It means three things actually." He corrected. "It also means they were sloppy...or wanted the Ministry to find them." He put a light on the neck area looking for more marks he'd have to add into his notes.
"But, I'd say your right on one thing, An active curse is no use once it's container falls apart." Not to mention the damage it could do to someone if it was meant for a target.

Looking up, he raised an eyebrow. His interest peaked, for a man who spent hours and hours studying death from books to do it in person was almost too good an offer to pass up.
"Most certainly." He righted himself, taking off the gloves.
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Malachi stared blankly at Ambrose for a moment, the latter's answer taking some time to register in his mind. 'I meant one or the other,' he stated flatly. Tact was not his strong suit. 'Either way will take enough time to become its own project. I don't have time to help with both, but I can investigate one while you do the other. We can keep each other updated by owl or periodic me....' something caught in his throat. Meetings. How he hated them. 'You know what I mean,' he finished abruptly.
[ View OOC Note ]

"I'd personally like to know how this body got into my work area." He deadpanned, It took up his time and this man's time. However, he also wanted to know what this spell did and who had done it. In either case only one thing would help his paycheck, ignoring his work to locate the curser wasn't it.
"I think one should focus on the source if anything, studies can be done later about it's effects. I don't need more bodies coming in like this." He mused.

"I'd prefer to only meet if needed," He took off the gloves, walking over to put them in the trash. "Owling will be fine, In the meantime I'll dig into my old books that might have some information." He took a quick scan of the body. "And, question the staff as to how this ended up with me." The last part hinting at a bit of annoyance for the situation.
Relief washed over Malachi at those beautiful words, only meet if needed. This man seemed to think precisely as Malachi did. Conjuring a camera, Malachi took a variety of photographs of the symbol, the body, the symbol, the body, and the symbol. He held out his hand to Noble.
"Keep me updated, and I'll do the same for you."
He watched, from over his shoulder before turning back to the sink where he had stated washing his hands.
"What do I do with the body, if you don't mind my asking." He dried off his hands shaking the mans hand with only one firm handshake before letting go.
"I'll be sure to owl you as soon as I have any information."