The Anthropologist

by Weavers of Dreams

-7- Tuesday Part: One

After the vigorous warmup that had been Monday, a more alert and ready Lyra set her lunchbox under the small table in the office and began checking her notes before proceeding to call her first appointment of the day.

“So, Mark,” she began, smiling at the older gentleman with the most epic lambchops, “I see your application for citizenship has been approved. Congratulations. I suppose this means you’ll be heading off to the Western Isles, eh?”

He nodded his graying head. “Yes, it was jolly good of you to put in those good words for me, Miss Heartstrings.”

Lyra giggled and rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Think nothing of it, sir. You’re a good man, with a good reputation, hardworking, and all-around swell company. It’s just a little sad that this’ll be our last session. And with you going away now…”

Mark chuckled loudly, his round belly jiggling comically. “Ooohh, come now, Heartstrings. It’s not like I’m going to be gone forever. I just want to do some adventuring into the unknown, if you know what I mean.”

Lyra nodded. “I once considered adventuring. Then, I read Darkest Darkness’s Guide to the Most Terrifying Things in Existence… the rest is history.”

“Oh, yes,” Mark said, reaching into a rucksack that Lyra never saw him without and removing a thick book. Its cover was as black as coal with an ivory picture of a mauled dragon’s skull in the center, just below the blood red title. Darkest Darkness’s Guide to the Most Terrifying things in Existence 7: The Unfinished Western Isles Compendium. “I have been reading up on his work quite a bit as of late.”

Lyra shivered as she looked at the cover. “I bet.”

He continued. “Mr. Rich agreed to finance the voyage after I described some of my successful jobs in South Africa… and after I presented him with a list of artillery manufacturers compiled by my dear friend Pinkie.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask her where she bought that party cannon thing,” Lyra said to herself.

“Oh, that would the Comical Combustion Corporation,” he informed her. “Mr. Rich turned down the idea of weaponized entertainment. Thankfully, the princesses, our other financers, managed to persuade him into constructing an arcade on each of the airships to keep up the crew’s moral.”

“Wow,” Lyra whistled in astonishment. “Even with royalty backing you, that must have cost a quite a few bits.”

“Actually it was fairly under budget,” Mark mused thoughtfully.

“What?” Lyra asked, not quite how that worked.

“We had the lovely Businessmare Rarity help us with our finances,” he said, chuckling at her silly expression. “We managed to utilize a lot more space with various dimensional expansion spell matrixes, cutting down the necessary airships to three, also allowing us to bring aboard paying passengers, including several of our others sponsors.”

“Wait a minute?” Lyra interjected. “Passengers? Don’t they know where you’re going?”

He gave her a dubious look. “Lyra, when a bunch of super wealthy tightwads and over privileged nobles hear about a place of untold riches, they will put sanity aside for a chance at first dibs. Besides, if a few of them don’t make it back, no great loss.”

Lyra wrinkled her nose as if she had just bit something foul. “Mr. Smith. That was just awful.”

“That’s what I told Celestia,” he said with a casual shrug.

“Well, as true as it is, you’re both awful,” Lyra stated with a sigh. “Just don’t tell her I said that.”

“I doubt you’d be punished, she’d most likely just make up a few more quips.”

“That’s why you won’t tell her,” Lyra pointed out with a humph. “So, any plans before you leave?”

“Ah, yes,” Mark nodded. “Pinkie is going to throw me a Bon Voyage Party Wednesday night. Then I shall leave for Canterlot, Thursday afternoon. Saturday, I shall be taking off aboard the flagship, Riveting Excursion, to begin the first leg of the journey west.”

“I’ll be there for the party,” Lyra said with sniff. She was going to miss him. “And I’ll do my best to see you off at the train station on Thursday.”

“You and half the town,” Mark said with rumbling laughter.

“The price of popularity, what can you do?” Lyra asked with a shrug.

“Oh, did I tell you that Daring Do is going with us as well?”

“Really?”

So, apparently Darkest Darkness was Daring Do’s grandfather. Upon hearing about the expedition, she had practically begged the princesses to let her join the voyage. It was unnecessary, considering they were trying to contract her help anyway. However, with her assistance came the added cost her standard archeological equipment. In bulk.

One thousand sledgehammers, six tons of plastic explosives, five hundred prybars, and twenty extra pith hats.

When asked why she hadn’t attempted to go to the Western Isles beforehand in search of the cause for her grandfather’s demise, she replied:

“Because I am nowhere stupid enough to not go in without an army backing me up.”

Fans of the series eagerly await her next book.

Comments

[Rokas]

I rather like those "archaeological supplies". Shoot, a feller could have a pretty good weekend in Vegas with all that stuff.

[Geminii]

Am I missing something, or does Mr Smith bear not a little resemblance to Santa Claus?

[River Road]

I cannot understand how this story has such a (comparatively) mediocre Like/Dislike ratio. It's funny, lighthearted, opens various worlds of interesting lore just by implication and has colorful characters without making any of them overbearing, at least as far as this chapter. It has a connecting plotline while still keeping every chapter as more or less a stand-alone that you can read in five minutes of free time, and it introduces silly and strange concepts without stretching the suspension of disbelief. And maybe one of the most important points in its favor: it has solid grammar and writing all the way from the first chapter.

By all intents, this story should either have several hundred upvotes at least, or be one of those "few upvotes to zero downvotes" stories. I shall do my best to advertise it so it at least gets a little more of the spotlight it should have.

[Lancerlot]

7096335
Don't forget the detonators!