Location: Over the Deep Woods
Time: Early Afternoon
Ah… ten days since I last reported in. Another few days and Diedrich claims we’ll be breaking into the hot, sweltering desert. I would be worried that he was leading us on some sort of wild goose-chase, but if I stand on the bow of the ship, lean forward, and squint until my eyes hurt, I oftentimes think I can see golden sands stretching forward in the distance, heat rising into the stark blue of the skies. Of course, whenever I do this I end up getting barked at about safety by the White Rabbit or ‘playfully’ shoved forward by the Cheshire Cat. So I don’t take to squinting too often. Besides, I’d rather not think about the perilous desert my dream short cut demands we take. Because, possibly imaginary or not, a short cut’s a short cut, and we’re taking it… even if it kills us. Which, according to Diedrich, is a strong possibility. Then again, every path will potentially kill us according to our lime colored navigator/guide… I’ve learned not to take it too seriously.At least, I’m trying not to.
So, to update the log on the condition of the ship and her crew. The Devil’s Claw has been sailing beautifully; she’s completely recovered from that unfortunate cow incident. The only lingering side effect is that the engine room smells of beef, but no one has been lingering on that little fact. We’ve been catching some delightful tailwinds and some even more delightful amusement because of it; understandably, we’ve been making great time.
Let’s see… ah, the Mad Hatter. I believe I finished my last report with a rather… questionable regard towards him. And I have to say, he continued to act rather strange for several days following that evening, strange enough that even the other members of the crew noticed. And that’s saying something. The crew seemed to be as completely in the dark about just what it was that was troubling my hat-loving friend as I was, so, as Capitan, I set myself to figuring it out. And then, it hit me. Hatter had obviously grown bored with this troublesome thing we call life; when he gets like that, no amount of encouragement seems to help. So I nixed any attempts at conventional encouragement and ‘encouraged’ him to go ‘borrow’ some ammo from an airship we happened upon on Day 4 with one of the ship’s cannons. After he had successfully shoplifted some ammunition and after outrunning the understandably irritated other crew, it seemed to me that the Hatter felt much better about himself and life in general. He even smiled at me, which was a considerable step forward… considering. Couple that with his testing of an unlabeled bottle of pills he found hidden in an old sock and he was back to acting as normal as could be expected.
“It’s because you’re wearing your jacket again.” the White Rabbit said when I mentioned it to him. There was an oddly knowing expression on his face that caught my attention. “It covers up the bite… if he doesn’t have to see it, he doesn’t have to feel guilt about it, does he?”
"Bite… what, my bug bite? Why would he feel guilt about something like that? He didn’t bite me!" I retorted with a scoff. The Hatter feeling guilt about anything is absurd; he’s too absolute in his decisions for something like that. The White Rabbit looked at me for a long moment, opened his mouth widely, snapped it shut, twitched, then turned away ranting under his breath about timing.
The White Rabbit is a strange sort of man… rabbit… thing.
Speaking of the White Rabbit, he’s been a bit odd over the last few days. He and I aren’t really friends, not the way I’m friends with Hatter or even the way I’m friends with the Dormouse, but he’s been oddly attentive since I got up and about. I suppose he could just be taking his appointment as ship medic a little too seriously, but it seems like there’s something on his mind… I suppose he’ll talk about it when he’s ready. But until then, I may have to sit him down for an instructional talk on how to get his act together; he’s been a bit sloppy over the last few days. For example, we took a brief break a few nights ago to play board games and, after Rabbit called all the blue tokens, things got kinda out of hand, the game dragged on too long, and the White Rabbit passed out. Cheshire and the Dormouse had to carry him back to his room, and it took all of my mighty authority as captain to keep them from drawing fake moustaches all over his face.
Then we stopped to get matching anchor tattoos, but the White Rabbit was apparently so busy trying to lecture me about being careful about trust that he misheard and got a unicorn. Needless to say, we all had a good laugh at the White Rabbit’s error. The unicorn gang that haunts the area, however, didn’t seem to find it nearly as humorous. But instead of settling it like normal people, say, in a tea-off, they thought the proper way to deal with the situation was to dog pile the White Rabbit and rip the flesh bearing the mark off his arm with their bare hands. It was impressively quick work, actually; in retrospect, I’m curious just how much further they’d have gone had we given them a few extra seconds. Ah, oh well; as it was, we all sprang into action just like all of those functional crews one hears talk about these days. Hatter and Cheshire went about throwing the Unicorn Gang members this way and that, Diedrich put forward a mighty effort to drag the White Rabbit to safety, the Dormouse cast his drowsy magic to sedate them, and I went mad with my scythe. It was good, bloody fun, and it managed to serve as a sort of morale booster. After we staunched the White Rabbit’s horrible bleeding, we all had a good long laugh about it.
Obviously, crew productivity skyrocketed.
Let’s see… who’s next. Ah, the Cheshire Cat; I feel as if he and the Dormouse have been oddly quiet on this trip. Something I wouldn’t really expect from the former, since he’s a rather shifty sort of character even on his good days. He keeps chuckling and giving me shifting little bits of advice; I have the distinct feeling that he knows something that’s going to be happening, and that he’s enjoying keeping it from me. No, it’s not quite like that… like he’s testing me, testing me on something I haven’t even encountered yet. It’s strange, but I know better then to openly question him; he’s capable of talking even the best of Wonderland in circles, and I am far from being the best. In other news, my purple feline companion did decide to try out an impromptu hairstyle change. Slicked back and strange… to be honest, I had mixed feelings about it. Turns out that it was amazingly aerodynamic, which proved useful since Cheshire has been spending a good deal of his time in the crow’s nest. I know it sounds silly, but we are from Wonderland; what do you expect?
And, of course, one simply can’t forget the Dormouse. He’s been his usual narcoleptic self, but more successful at his appointed duty as ship chef then I could have ever dreamed. I mean, I knew the gray hued man had a soft spot for food, but before this trip I assumed it was strictly where consumption was concerned. But he’s been amazingly resourceful; just this afternoon he stumbled from the lower decks of the Devil’s Claw holding a whole armful of energy bars. It was the Dodo’s hidden stash, apparently; there was much rejoicing at the Dormouse’s newly discovered food-finding talent. And the dishes he’s been serving have been edible, which is far more then I’d expected from him… But, more then that, I think the Dormouse is happy. It’s difficult to tell since he yawns quite a bit, but I do think he enjoys the fresh air, the ship itself, being on the move… something. It’s difficult to tell; he’s not quite the talkative type. I usually have to traumatize the words out of him, but to tell you the truth I haven’t had the heart of late. The probability that he would do something in retaliation to my food is too great.
And that’s about all for the rest of the crew. My health’s been better, I suppose. Oh, I did have a momentary lapse of preoccupation and opened a door into my own face, but that happens with enough frequency that no one was overly alarmed. I am rather sure that the significant decrease in health I received was offset by the amusement that the rest of the crew enjoyed. Which is a benefit… I suppose.
Ah, but enough writing for now. Back to the helm!
