newt "just a smidge" scamander (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
maternis) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2017-03-20 11:01 pm
maternis) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2017-03-20 11:01 pm
001 ►►► arrival ( my heart won't forget. )
WHO: Newt Scamander
WHERE: the fountain, the canyon wall, and the woods.
WHEN: March 20th + onward.
OPEN TO: Everyone
WARNINGS: Just an extremely introverted magizoologist who prefers the company of all things not human.
STATUS: Open!
The Fountain:
Newt was still in quite the state after finding himself in this place. A place, which, he apparently couldn't leave. A place that separated him from his creatures, thrust him into a place where his magic was little more than barely within reach at his current ability level, and wandless. After recovering from the strange arrival in the fountain, he had gathered what belongings he had found himself possessing, and distanced himself from what seemed to be the town center.
After taking stock of everything, he'd gotten a very basic idea of the general layout, and since, has returned daily to the fountain. He may look rather strange, a tall man in navy blue scrubs hunched over as he checks the fountain, and the ground surrounding it for clues. What he's looking for are tracks of any sort that might mean any of his creatures might have accidentally found themselves in this place as well. So far, he's found nothing to indicate as much, but he's hardly keen on giving up so easily.
The Canyon Wall:
When Newt isn't tracking creatures who have simply not followed him through to this place, or foraging or fishing for the necessities, he is exploring the land. He's seen swarms of fireflies, and inspected them from a distance. Something nagging in the back of his mind kept him from straying too close, and they seem to congregate in places that might offer means of escape. The fountain. The canyon wall. How curious. He walks along the rock face, one way for a time, keeping a steady pace and counting his steps. He wishes he had paper to map out the area, but perhaps he can find something the next time he goes into town. If someone were willing to trade pad and paper for fish or what edible berries and plants he's found, that would be most appreciated, but it also requires he be willing to make the trek into the small town center.
He would really rather not, if that was all right with everyone.
The Woods:
Newt is used to sleeping rough. He spent a year in the field, the brunt of it in Equatorial Guinea, either taking rest in the shed and on the cot in his case, or making use of nature around him in the wilds. He finds a secure place to rest, where he is sheltered, and his position is protected, and he can gather his things quickly if entirely necessary. While he was not the war hero his brother was, he did still serve and fight (albeit under some duress) in the Great War, and he learned to move quickly from compromised positions.
When he isn't catching sleep at odd times, or running himself ragged as he finds ways to busy himself in this new environment, he's exploring and gathering. While there may not be much by way of hunting or foraging, there are seeds, and he gathers those in case they might be of use at a later time. It's during one of these trips that he hears the high-pitched chirp that most might mistake for a bird of some sort, but Newt knows to belong to a rather small mammal. A squirrel, in particular.
After a little bit of searching, mimicking the sound that the mother would return in answer as she tried to find her youngling, he finds a small, injured baby squirrel at the base of a tree. He crouches down carefully to inspect her, and lifts her up after she's grown somewhat accustomed to his scent.
"Hush, now," he murmurs as he lifts her close to his chest, bringing his peacoat around his hand to offer more warmth to the animal huddled in the palm of his hand. From what he can tell, she has a broken paw, and it doesn't look as if she's been seen to by her mother for days. Orphaned, probably. It does happen. A tension in his chest he hadn't realized had grown so tightly coiled lessens a little, and he smiles gently after what feels like ages. "Mum's here."
WHERE: the fountain, the canyon wall, and the woods.
WHEN: March 20th + onward.
OPEN TO: Everyone
WARNINGS: Just an extremely introverted magizoologist who prefers the company of all things not human.
STATUS: Open!
The Fountain:
Newt was still in quite the state after finding himself in this place. A place, which, he apparently couldn't leave. A place that separated him from his creatures, thrust him into a place where his magic was little more than barely within reach at his current ability level, and wandless. After recovering from the strange arrival in the fountain, he had gathered what belongings he had found himself possessing, and distanced himself from what seemed to be the town center.
After taking stock of everything, he'd gotten a very basic idea of the general layout, and since, has returned daily to the fountain. He may look rather strange, a tall man in navy blue scrubs hunched over as he checks the fountain, and the ground surrounding it for clues. What he's looking for are tracks of any sort that might mean any of his creatures might have accidentally found themselves in this place as well. So far, he's found nothing to indicate as much, but he's hardly keen on giving up so easily.
The Canyon Wall:
When Newt isn't tracking creatures who have simply not followed him through to this place, or foraging or fishing for the necessities, he is exploring the land. He's seen swarms of fireflies, and inspected them from a distance. Something nagging in the back of his mind kept him from straying too close, and they seem to congregate in places that might offer means of escape. The fountain. The canyon wall. How curious. He walks along the rock face, one way for a time, keeping a steady pace and counting his steps. He wishes he had paper to map out the area, but perhaps he can find something the next time he goes into town. If someone were willing to trade pad and paper for fish or what edible berries and plants he's found, that would be most appreciated, but it also requires he be willing to make the trek into the small town center.
He would really rather not, if that was all right with everyone.
The Woods:
Newt is used to sleeping rough. He spent a year in the field, the brunt of it in Equatorial Guinea, either taking rest in the shed and on the cot in his case, or making use of nature around him in the wilds. He finds a secure place to rest, where he is sheltered, and his position is protected, and he can gather his things quickly if entirely necessary. While he was not the war hero his brother was, he did still serve and fight (albeit under some duress) in the Great War, and he learned to move quickly from compromised positions.
When he isn't catching sleep at odd times, or running himself ragged as he finds ways to busy himself in this new environment, he's exploring and gathering. While there may not be much by way of hunting or foraging, there are seeds, and he gathers those in case they might be of use at a later time. It's during one of these trips that he hears the high-pitched chirp that most might mistake for a bird of some sort, but Newt knows to belong to a rather small mammal. A squirrel, in particular.
After a little bit of searching, mimicking the sound that the mother would return in answer as she tried to find her youngling, he finds a small, injured baby squirrel at the base of a tree. He crouches down carefully to inspect her, and lifts her up after she's grown somewhat accustomed to his scent.
"Hush, now," he murmurs as he lifts her close to his chest, bringing his peacoat around his hand to offer more warmth to the animal huddled in the palm of his hand. From what he can tell, she has a broken paw, and it doesn't look as if she's been seen to by her mother for days. Orphaned, probably. It does happen. A tension in his chest he hadn't realized had grown so tightly coiled lessens a little, and he smiles gently after what feels like ages. "Mum's here."
no subject
"And yes, I think you may be on to something. We should track their patterns, see if we can actually utilize them for escape." Helen straightened for a moment and offered her hand. "I'm sorry, I've not introduced myself. Dr. Helen Magnus."
no subject
"I was thinking that might be a feasible option myself," says Newt, a brief quirk of a smile coming to his face. It was nice to find someone who thought along similar lines as himself, at least scientifically. He looks over when she offers her hand, and after a moment, he reaches out a bit hesitantly to take hers, offering a brief but firm handshake.
"It's quite all right. Newt Scamander. Pleased to meet you Dr. Magnus."
no subject
"It's also a comfort to hear someone from my home country, as you can imagine. I felt rather like an exile here without that many of my countrymen to talk to."
no subject
There's a warmth to his expression that doesn't quite translate as a smile still, but he appreciates Helen's company. Their discussions thus far. "Americans are a strange lot, aren't they? I imagine we could classify certain patterns in their actions for days on end."
Yes, he did just make a rather small joke.
"Might I ask what it is that you study in particular, when not fireflies?"
no subject
"But you seem to be of a kindred spirit, so I think I can trust you with it."
no subject
"In more ways than one, apparently. I'm an Magizoologist. I've been writing a manuscript about magical creatures in order to inspire the magical world to protect these creatures instead of exterminating them," he admits rather conspiratorially. "Your secret is safe with me, as I hope mine is with you."
no subject
"I wish you'd been here a few months ago. We had a yeti-like creature attacking the village. I think it was simply scared or sick but unfortunately we had to take desperate measures to ensure the safety of the other villagers. It was a difficult decision to make."
no subject
He perks up at mention of the creature from months past, even if the ending isn't what he might have preferred. They didn't have quite the same resources here as he did in his own world.
"That would have been interesting to see, yes. It's a shame such measures had to be taken." Many where he comes from think his manuscript is an extermination guide. Some others like to say he tames some creatures, but that's a ridiculous notion. He simply gains their trust.
But that is neither simple nor easy at times, and he has many scars that prove as much.
no subject
"I would rather have helped it," Helen agreed. "We are in his home and habitat, after all, and not the other way around. I would like to do my best to preserve the natural order of things around here and not disturb the local fauna as much as I can."
She was, however, aware that her opinion wasn't held by the majority of people she'd come across in life; there were few who were willing to forego safety and comfort for the sake of another creature. Helen was just happy she'd found a kindred spirit.
"Hopefully with another naturalist here, we'll be able to make more of an impact on that front."
no subject
He much prefers that himself. Leave as little a mark as possible. Newt was more than happy that he'd found another person with which to converse and commiserate with over the circumstances here and other notions.
"I would be glad to join you on that front, should the need again arise."