Eyes Without A Faceearliest post first | most recent post first
The Eyes Without A Face has been airborne for a few days. The discovery of store of spidersilk canvas in an abandoned warehouse in Grasshoppertown was key--the Captain redeeming himself with his discovery. Using the Grasshopper folk's native wind-powered electrical grid, we were able to produce enough electrolysis to fill the bags. On top of that, a wind has finally perked up, which means the sails the Captain traded our engines for are finally useful! We left with the first breeze.
We brought along as much of the crew as we could gather. That is, the ones still mentally able--roughly 2/3rds of our original compliment. Enough to man the ship. We only hope the best for those left behind. The rest wandered off into the grasses, under the spell of the Prairie Madness. The Doctor says there was nothing we could do.
Being marooned here on the Infinite Prairie is taking its toll on the crew, as evidenced by their hallucinatory log posts. The formerly bustling Grasshopper village is now a ghost town, its inhabitants eaten or captured by the dragonfly raiders. The Eyes Without a Face remains a wrecked skeleton of its former self, though myself and the few remaining crew members who have not lost their minds are attempting to effect repairs.
The disaster of our encounter with the dragonflies has been a sobering wake up call for the Captain. Though he attempted to abdicate his position, I and the remaining sane members of the crew feel he’s still the best person for the job, so long as he allow for a more consensus-based leadership technique.
As far as the rest of the crew, they appear to be suffering from what the ship’s doctor refers to as “Prairie Madness,” which is a combination of the nervousness that any Airworker feels from being on the ground too long, emotional issues related to the destruction of the ship, and potentially a reaction to unknown allergens native to the Infinite Prairie. It’d be a heck of a place to have hay fever, I’ll tell you that.
Whether or not there are the right materials here in Grasshopper Town to get the ship flying again remains to be seen, but there are few other options short of succumbing to the madness.
I suppose we're takin shit from paris now
I seem to have come into contact with the captain of Eyes Without A Face. I hope all is well
Job claimed by Thomas 2018-01-21 22:53:32
I have five whales that need to be delivered to the mainland immediately from the coast of Melbourne, Australia.
They must be transported all at once otherwise they will cry for each other causing ear deafening to all within an 100km radius.
Some may argue with this transportation especially those that believe that they are not whales but bodyguards will be available to protect the zephyr air transport staff while loading and unloading the whales.
Job claimed by Thomas 2018-01-21 22:54:34
I need 40 pounds of Element 115 airdropped to Tokyo, Japan for my use. The pickup location is in Paris, France. I will pay you 2,000 to 300 bucks depending on the time it takes to drop off the package
The Captain's plan was a disaster. When the dragonfly raiders returned--in greater numbers--they came right for the ship. The Eyes Without a Face was tethered in the center of town, bobbing in the afternoon breeze with great fins we fashioned out of the sails (the very sails the Captain traded our engines for weeks ago), and the giant carp lips he had me paint on the bow. This time we had no advantage of surprise, and the dragonflies--this time led by a much larger, more brutal variety--rushed through our defenses and tore the ship to shreds. Ground crews had been pulling her closer to the ground as it became evident our buoyancy was failing, and no hands were lost as the wreckage landed softly over Grasshopper Town. The residents of Grasshopper town were not so lucky, however, and seem to have been entirely gobbled up or taken prisoner by the marauding flying devils.
Now we have no ship--just a skeleton of its rigid former self. And without a ship, are we still a crew? We're holding a meeting. Without the Captain.
The Captain's reasoning is this: though they certainly have anthropomorphic attributes, these insectizoid folks are still deeply rooted to the hierarchy of predation, i.e., the dragonfly people eat the grasshopper folk. So what eats dragonflies? Fish! And if we can adequately disguise the Eyes Without A Face into the visage of a very large carp, we can scare these dragonflies from ever causing trouble again in Grasshopper Town.
I don't believe it for a minute. What would a giant carp be doing floating out over a town? In the air? These dragonfly people may be insectizoids, but they're no dummies. The Captain said he noted my concerns, but here I am painting giant fish lips on the bow of an airship. We'll see if this ends as poorly as his decision to trade the engines for sails, as I am afraid it will.
And sure enough, trouble came to Grasshopper Town. A gang of local giganeura--giant predatory dragonflies--had their hinged jaws clamped tight around the village, flying through in a swarm every few weeks to pick off a few of the Grasshopper folk. The locals accepted the murderous extortion, choosing to lose a few of their kind on a regular basis rather than put up a fight and potentially lose it all. Which is why they didn't take kindly to the Eyes Without a Face moving to act in their defence. We hitched up the toasts and tugged the ship to the center of town, and let the giganeura have it with everything weapon on the ship: harpoons, split shot and angels, flaming sweet and sour sauce we picked up in Old Madripoor. It didn't take much to drive those bullies away, but now the grasshopper folk are more skittish than ever. They say the dragonflies will return, and in greater number, and likely chew up the whole town--the Eyes Without a Face with it. With still no wind to blow our sails, we couldn't outrun the swarm even if we tried. But it's seems the Captain's committed to finishing what we started.