Doctor Argosa

The Mephitis

2/14/2018 10:34pm

Just as marine scientists and inventors use ingenious methods to remove plastic from our oceans, I am perfecting a system to remove evil and rottenness from the world--with blimps! My research has shown that through suspending various nets and talismans from behind airships and then flying around, we can remove a lot of bad stuff. To complete my research, I need access to an airship, and a captain willing to help me realize this possible and probable future for all of us. Looking for a Science Officer? I'm the one!

The Mephitis

3/19/2018 11:00pm

Doctor's Log: The ship continues to experience significant bouts of dissociation. Occasionally, we'll find ourselves in a well developed universe, for instance [fig. 1] delivering bushels of tender coconut to an island of shipwrecked children on a beautiful sunny day, or [fig. 2] being fitted for new high performance stabilizers, bearing the emblem that was to become so notorious during the The Confusion, or [fig. 3] cutting its way through the thunderheads at Chichen Itza. However, those moments of lucidity are few and far between. For the most part we appear to be a largely unfocused and half-hearted attempt at a narrative, uncongealed by a vision or even a direction. The Captain is so underwritten as to be non-existent, and only Choco Loni's weapons prowess gives her character any features whatsoever. I will continue my experiments in my laboratory as our coalescence allows, but fear that our story is easy prey to the entropy that is the enemy of all such ships.

The Mephitis

5/4/2018 7:22pm

Doctor's Log: The Captain's ramblings have resulted in a continued flurry of sharply imagined yet incomplete universes, and the crew is beginning to lose their minds. Antarctic stations, built into the foot of the Vinson Massif; jungle caves large enough to fit a small fleet of airships, all bearing the black & white flag of The Mephitis; gold and bronze cities filled with ornate skyscrapers and mooring posts. It was at one such skyscraper where the ship docked, dropping our gangway directly onto the balcony deck of the suites which serve as the business offices for The Mephitis in this reality. This visit has been especially prolonged, as the Captain has been preoccupied with a fidget spinner, allowing this manifestation of existence to continue. It's like a soap bubble that could burst at the slightest whim of the Captain, but as long as he doesn't *think* about it, it remains. I've arranged a wide array of back-up fidget spinners for the Captain, and will hopefully be able to interest him in one of them should his spinner of choice lose its flavor. We're taking the time to allow the crew some well deserved shorleave while the Captain remains entranced.

The Mephitis

7/2/2018 10:37pm

Doctor's Log: I watch the Captain sleeping--a curl of dark hair on his forehead, his eyes darting rapidly beneath his closed eyelids--and thank our stars that we haven't blinked out of existence. Even in his dream state, we seem to have enough mythological cohesion to remain in the picture, bobbing on his consciousness like balls floating on the ocean. Though our continuity stream changes course at his whim, it doesn't disappear all together when he's asleep, and his waking imagination is far more a danger than his dream state, apparently.

I wonder what he's dreaming about. I look more closely at his sleeping face, blissful, childlike, and move away a lock of hair that's over his ear. What is that in his ear? A tiny spark? I put my eyepiece in and peer down his external auditory passage, searching for the dream...

And there, past the wax and gunk and the internal auditory meatus, past the inner ear... I see it!

As if at the bottom of a well, I see the Captain sleeping, with his doctor watching over, moving a lock of hair from over his ear, peering down the long dark tunnel to the dream below. The dream of the Captain sleeping, with his doctor watching over.

The Mephitis

9/27/2018 8:22pm

Doctor's Log: The Captain has lost half his mind. It's my diagnosis that he contracted a mise en abyme virus at Chichen Itza, which is now consuming a full 50% of his Mind Cycles. Yes--he's got the Droste Fever.

For now, it's had a net positive effect on the ship and crew--there's been a notable reduction in both the frequency and amplitude of our reality changes. However, if untreated, his entire mind will be consumed and we'll all find ourselves lost in the Captain's personal hall of mirrors, forever. Our only hope is to infuse what remains of the Captain's mind with irreproducible concepts, which will be inedible to the virus and ultimately lessen its impact, or hopefully drive it away entirely.

I've sent the crew to seek out these unicorns, these fantastical ideas, and return with them as soon as possible.

The Mephitis

1/8/2019 11:08pm

While we have all now become the Mirror People, we are still ourselves on the inside. This leads me to believe that the situation may still be reversible.

The skin of the crew started to turn shiny in patches. The Captain was becoming calmer, and less manic, but I knew it was likely just the Droste Fever taking him to a fugue state.

Soon crew members' entire bodies were coated with the shimmery, silver coating... faceless reflective mannequins. This doctor included. Clothes melted away, while all surfaces of the ship became mirrored as well.

Somehow we still know where each other stand, and where our stations are, and we go about our business, reflecting those around us, reflecting our environments, with no distinguishing marks but the curve of a shoulder, or an over stuffed couch.

Outside the ship, clouds too have become mirror, as well as the earth, and the sea, and the sun.

And what does the world reflect, when the world itself is nothing but the reflections of reflections?

The Mephitis

4/12/2019 11:09pm

Having a wonderful time at Chichen Itza! The weather has been great, and the warm jungle air has been doing wonders for the crew. There's even been a bit of a breeze to keep things on the cooler side. The Mephitis has been riding the updrafts, taking tourists on short spins around the area. The warm weather gives us just the extra lift we need to chase around the little Thunder Devils, and I've been able to snag three in my array of nets and talismans. They give you a bit of fight once you get them on board, but we've been able to secure each one into its own wunderbottle. One of these days I'll go ashore and visit the ruins and figure out if those people are selling balloons or cotton candy or umbrellas or what!

Wish you were here!

Dr. A.

The Mephitis

7/11/2019 11:27pm

After barring the camera crew from my lab, I began the delicate process of removing one Thunder Devil from its wunderbottle. Yes, normally such a procedure should only be done in a specially equipped lab, but this particular Thunder Devil had been injured in the process of netting it, and I was concerned it needed attention. Its thrashings in the wunderbottle had become far more faint than the others, and let's be honest none of us really know what happens inside those things, am I right?

So I've rigged up a temporary playpen for it while its little funnel sets and its spiral updraft straightens out. Poor thing.

The Mephitis

10/24/2019 11:27pm

My pet Thunder Devil has yet to consume us. Whether this is related to its still relatively small size, or some sense of familial gratitude I can not be sure. It was merely a pup when we first released it from its wunderbottle, and it's quite possible it has formed an bond with me as a father, or the ship itself as a mother.

In either case, the Mephitis remains locked in the top of its howling funnel, rotating slowly as the Thunder Devil continues growing in size, feeding on the desert sands below. Apparently this area of the desert was once the floor of an ancient ocean, and the sedimentary rocks are rich with iron--the favorite (and most nutritious!) food for growing Thunder Devils.

While we remain momentarily safe from being sucked into its slowing growing maw, I continue my experiments in communication. @choco loni, @Captain Pirate II, the rest of the crew, and even the Japanese camera team have all assisted in hanging wind chimes of specifically calibrated frequencies all around the ship. I continue to take measurements and study, hoping to find a harmonic method communicating with our gusty young friend.

If I am unsuccessful, the ship will no doubt be crushed by the ensuing maelström.

The Mephitis

2/19/2020 9:32pm

Before entering the Calafia economic zone, we had to submit to the regular border patrol. While we had the proper papers for the coffee and Kahlúa in the hold, and somehow @choco loni never has a problem with her exotic ammo (likely she has bullets that she hides other bullets in), I had to give up my collection of captive Thunder Devils. Apparently my Sentient Weather Anomaly handler’s card had expired, so the entire twelve pack was confiscated by the jack booted thugs. I begged to be permitted to release them back into the wild, but the authoritarian half wits claim international eco-airspace jurisdiction of a ridiculous 300 aeronautical miles around the border, the the detour was too great for The Mephitis’ current schedule. I can only hope that they are found good homes in an open range storm zoo, and not dissected on some mad meteorologists’ table.

The twelve pack was a convenient distraction, because none of the simple minded border goons then thought to look in the scientific grade Hydro Flask in the sling over my shoulder. Our little runaway Thunder Devil had been through too much to be given up to such ruffians! I have named him Māui.