Diaries of the Starving Anthropologist
Quote from Indy on October 27, 2023, 2:50 pmThe following roleplay is set approximately 1-2 years after the events of Silk Threads.
It chronicles the adventures of Zander in his anthropological studies.
It’s been three days on the road since I’ve seen another person and I might be loosing it. I have nothing but the same dusty tune wheezing from a battered pair of earphones through an equally battered cassette tape that looked like it’s seen war. The tapes have been the only thing that kept me sane. I’m getting more and more worried I’ve worn a hole through them. At least it’s beautiful. Ahead, I see the beginnings of a dusty day emerging over a rolling green hill, and below the dazzling blue of the ocean.
That's always the trouble, with anthropology research. Sometimes, you only have the slightest clue to go off of. Maybe I’ll cave and island-hop to the nearest local tourist retreat, if nothing else to ask for directions. But I probably won't because some thread of stubbornness is holding strong. It was delicate at best to ask the questions I really want to ask, and I don't want to raise the wrong kind of suspicions to the local pack I was trying to ingratiate myself into.
Besides, a tourist destination would just be salt in the wound. Maybe proper anthropologists can afford to stay in a hotel, but presumably those anthropologists get better funding than the Christmas money their mothers send. It is what it is, but it does make me a bit envious for the well-paved road. I just haven’t figured out yet how to worm “werewolf pack” into legitimate anthropology research. Maybe, someday, that would all be common kept knowledge and my research would be considered the pioneering work of the field. Unfortunately, I was likely to be long-dead by then. Today, I was probably going to eat a lizard and sleep in the dirt again…
Update. I did eat a lizard. The dirt is just as poorly as I recall it. But below, I see the glint catching the horizon as the sun sets. Is it just the reflection of the sand? Or some secret tourist retreat for the uber rich? Equally are possible, and yet the third possibility is I’ve found what I’m looking for. If all goes well, I might get a break from the lizards.
The following roleplay is set approximately 1-2 years after the events of Silk Threads.
It chronicles the adventures of Zander in his anthropological studies.
It’s been three days on the road since I’ve seen another person and I might be loosing it. I have nothing but the same dusty tune wheezing from a battered pair of earphones through an equally battered cassette tape that looked like it’s seen war. The tapes have been the only thing that kept me sane. I’m getting more and more worried I’ve worn a hole through them. At least it’s beautiful. Ahead, I see the beginnings of a dusty day emerging over a rolling green hill, and below the dazzling blue of the ocean.
That's always the trouble, with anthropology research. Sometimes, you only have the slightest clue to go off of. Maybe I’ll cave and island-hop to the nearest local tourist retreat, if nothing else to ask for directions. But I probably won't because some thread of stubbornness is holding strong. It was delicate at best to ask the questions I really want to ask, and I don't want to raise the wrong kind of suspicions to the local pack I was trying to ingratiate myself into.
Besides, a tourist destination would just be salt in the wound. Maybe proper anthropologists can afford to stay in a hotel, but presumably those anthropologists get better funding than the Christmas money their mothers send. It is what it is, but it does make me a bit envious for the well-paved road. I just haven’t figured out yet how to worm “werewolf pack” into legitimate anthropology research. Maybe, someday, that would all be common kept knowledge and my research would be considered the pioneering work of the field. Unfortunately, I was likely to be long-dead by then. Today, I was probably going to eat a lizard and sleep in the dirt again…
Update. I did eat a lizard. The dirt is just as poorly as I recall it. But below, I see the glint catching the horizon as the sun sets. Is it just the reflection of the sand? Or some secret tourist retreat for the uber rich? Equally are possible, and yet the third possibility is I’ve found what I’m looking for. If all goes well, I might get a break from the lizards.
Quote from Indy on November 4, 2023, 4:15 pmUnnamed Tasmanian Island Entry 2:
Well, there's good news and there's bad news. As my mother always said, it's best to start with the good news first and work your way up from there.
The good news is I won't be eating another lizard tonight and I probably won't be freezing my tail off.
The bad news is I appear to have been taken as a 'forced guest' by the party I encountered to the west. Some might use the term prisoner, although I believe that is an aggressive word. It is possibly a cultural misunderstanding, although I can't seem to get through to them. Any attempt to speak with them has resulted in a flurry of unfamiliar words - Palawa Kani if I were to guess - but as I'd never heard the language spoken (curse so few tapes taken of the language spoken!) I can only take an educated guess. I may be regretting not taking more courses in Linguistics.
They are not unkind people. The two women have been giving me the side eye, but in their defense they are traveling with a boy no older than twelve. I'm sure they're just concerned. The three men who travel with them do not seem very amused either, but at least they've offered me a place by their fire. The boy gave me some dried meat, berries, and nuts. So scratch Souffle a la lizard off the menu tonight.
Once, I think I've caught the boy speaking in English. So I suspect they may understand me... only distrust me. I will attempt to make better progress on it tomorrow.
They are human, but they seem to know something. Otherwise, why would they act so strangely? I am hoping, anyways, they can point me in the right direction once we clear this little misunderstanding. If I'm lucky, maybe they'll let me take tapes of their spoken language so there are at least more records of Palawa Kani available.
Unnamed Tasmanian Island Entry 2:
Well, there's good news and there's bad news. As my mother always said, it's best to start with the good news first and work your way up from there.
The good news is I won't be eating another lizard tonight and I probably won't be freezing my tail off.
The bad news is I appear to have been taken as a 'forced guest' by the party I encountered to the west. Some might use the term prisoner, although I believe that is an aggressive word. It is possibly a cultural misunderstanding, although I can't seem to get through to them. Any attempt to speak with them has resulted in a flurry of unfamiliar words - Palawa Kani if I were to guess - but as I'd never heard the language spoken (curse so few tapes taken of the language spoken!) I can only take an educated guess. I may be regretting not taking more courses in Linguistics.
They are not unkind people. The two women have been giving me the side eye, but in their defense they are traveling with a boy no older than twelve. I'm sure they're just concerned. The three men who travel with them do not seem very amused either, but at least they've offered me a place by their fire. The boy gave me some dried meat, berries, and nuts. So scratch Souffle a la lizard off the menu tonight.
Once, I think I've caught the boy speaking in English. So I suspect they may understand me... only distrust me. I will attempt to make better progress on it tomorrow.
They are human, but they seem to know something. Otherwise, why would they act so strangely? I am hoping, anyways, they can point me in the right direction once we clear this little misunderstanding. If I'm lucky, maybe they'll let me take tapes of their spoken language so there are at least more records of Palawa Kani available.
Quote from Indy on November 30, 2023, 11:08 amUnnamed Tasmanian Island Entry 3:
We have been traveling for two days. I think we must have circled the island at least twice now, for it is not a large one. My attempts to broach friendship amongst them has remained shallow at best. I have managed to learn a few of their words - one which I believe is a greeting for the morning, another an expression of frustration, and the third referring to the berries they eat. Yet my attempts to use their language has not garnered friendship - quit the contrary they regard me with uncertain eyes.
The boy is different. He always seems curious about me, but only when the adults don't seem to be looking. He has watched as I write, and been amused when I gave him a small bit of paper and pen to draw with. I would have included his image in this journal, however his guardians took the paper and burned it before I had a chance to look at it.
I am uncertain our purposes in traveling together. To my end, I look only to confirm the rumors I have heard and to learn more of this pack if so. To their end, I am unclear what they gain in our relationship as such. Perhaps I am a prisoner, yet they do not guard me at night. I would be free to flee off into the wilderness if I please. On the second day we came so close to the docks, I am sure I could have waited there until a boat came by and requested a ride to the larger islands. In the day if I wander far, their voices are uncertain but they do not stop my either. I am free to go, if I insist on it.
They fascinate me. They distrust me, but they are kind to me. They share their fire and food without asking for more in turn. I have begun to wonder if I am in the process of some kind of test - although to what I would gain should I pass, or loose if I fail, remains an open question.
However, one way or another our interactions will end soon. The full moon is in three days. If I cannot gain their trust by then, then surely I must leave them - for as much as their safety as mine. Perhaps in my second-skin, the answers will be clearer.
Unnamed Tasmanian Island Entry 3:
We have been traveling for two days. I think we must have circled the island at least twice now, for it is not a large one. My attempts to broach friendship amongst them has remained shallow at best. I have managed to learn a few of their words - one which I believe is a greeting for the morning, another an expression of frustration, and the third referring to the berries they eat. Yet my attempts to use their language has not garnered friendship - quit the contrary they regard me with uncertain eyes.
The boy is different. He always seems curious about me, but only when the adults don't seem to be looking. He has watched as I write, and been amused when I gave him a small bit of paper and pen to draw with. I would have included his image in this journal, however his guardians took the paper and burned it before I had a chance to look at it.
I am uncertain our purposes in traveling together. To my end, I look only to confirm the rumors I have heard and to learn more of this pack if so. To their end, I am unclear what they gain in our relationship as such. Perhaps I am a prisoner, yet they do not guard me at night. I would be free to flee off into the wilderness if I please. On the second day we came so close to the docks, I am sure I could have waited there until a boat came by and requested a ride to the larger islands. In the day if I wander far, their voices are uncertain but they do not stop my either. I am free to go, if I insist on it.
They fascinate me. They distrust me, but they are kind to me. They share their fire and food without asking for more in turn. I have begun to wonder if I am in the process of some kind of test - although to what I would gain should I pass, or loose if I fail, remains an open question.
However, one way or another our interactions will end soon. The full moon is in three days. If I cannot gain their trust by then, then surely I must leave them - for as much as their safety as mine. Perhaps in my second-skin, the answers will be clearer.
Quote from Indy on December 4, 2023, 12:07 amUnnamed Tasmanian Island Entry 4:
We have been climbing higher. To the east and south, the island is relatively flat and the shore slopes effortlessly into the sea. Yet the center of the island is comprised of impressive peaks, with the north and west meeting the ocean in impressive cliffs. I have come to realize our journey was not merely circling. My guides seem to have been picking the least intrusive path upwards to ascend to them. I feel embarrassed to only realize now. With but a day until the full moon, I have come to realize I am separated now from the mainland by not only an ocean but now at least a thousand feet. Even in my alterform, making the trek downwards without injury will not be easy.
Yet in spite of these difficulties, I cannot help but admire the beauty of where we travel. I had studied the plants and fauna as best as I could before I arrived, yet in person is a different matter. How was I to know how vibrant the flowers of the banksia marginata would appear? Or to see the small dark eyes of a Pademelon as it slumbers in the trees, with a matching pair in turn of its baby? Or indeed the many colorful parrots which congregate in the trees, calling out in alarm as we pass? I am struck at once that I am on another world altogether. I am a visitor, and where I traverse I do so with care.
Now close to afternoon, I had thought this would be the time I take my departure from the group and quest elsewhere for a time. I do not want to frighten my hosts during the full moon. Yet something very strange occurred. Just as I had thought to make my own departure, my hosts did so first. The two women and the three men stopped at a peak, muttered to themselves, and turned the other way. At first they tugged at me with insistent arms - and I might have followed them, only to notice the boy remained as he was. I had tried to ask about him, but they would not answer.
Finally one of the woman had merely shook her head sadly and declared, "Stay, and it is your giudizio as well"
I had asked her what this meant, but by then the adults had turned aside and the meaning was clear. I could choose to return with them, or stay with the boy. To face what, I do not know. But it was both my curiosity, and concern for the boy, which stayed me... and so here I find myself with him, facing into the maw of what I imagine is something terrible.
Unnamed Tasmanian Island Entry 4:
We have been climbing higher. To the east and south, the island is relatively flat and the shore slopes effortlessly into the sea. Yet the center of the island is comprised of impressive peaks, with the north and west meeting the ocean in impressive cliffs. I have come to realize our journey was not merely circling. My guides seem to have been picking the least intrusive path upwards to ascend to them. I feel embarrassed to only realize now. With but a day until the full moon, I have come to realize I am separated now from the mainland by not only an ocean but now at least a thousand feet. Even in my alterform, making the trek downwards without injury will not be easy.
Yet in spite of these difficulties, I cannot help but admire the beauty of where we travel. I had studied the plants and fauna as best as I could before I arrived, yet in person is a different matter. How was I to know how vibrant the flowers of the banksia marginata would appear? Or to see the small dark eyes of a Pademelon as it slumbers in the trees, with a matching pair in turn of its baby? Or indeed the many colorful parrots which congregate in the trees, calling out in alarm as we pass? I am struck at once that I am on another world altogether. I am a visitor, and where I traverse I do so with care.
Now close to afternoon, I had thought this would be the time I take my departure from the group and quest elsewhere for a time. I do not want to frighten my hosts during the full moon. Yet something very strange occurred. Just as I had thought to make my own departure, my hosts did so first. The two women and the three men stopped at a peak, muttered to themselves, and turned the other way. At first they tugged at me with insistent arms - and I might have followed them, only to notice the boy remained as he was. I had tried to ask about him, but they would not answer.
Finally one of the woman had merely shook her head sadly and declared, "Stay, and it is your giudizio as well"
I had asked her what this meant, but by then the adults had turned aside and the meaning was clear. I could choose to return with them, or stay with the boy. To face what, I do not know. But it was both my curiosity, and concern for the boy, which stayed me... and so here I find myself with him, facing into the maw of what I imagine is something terrible.
