"Deeds? Where the devil are my slippers?"

To whom it may concern;
Tally-ho, ladies and gentlemen! It is I, Lord Theodore Thomas Blackwood, CBE, 7th Viscount of Westminister, noted explorer and gentleman.
It has come to my attention that I am held in quite high regard by the readers of a periodical known as "the World-Wide Web". I have heard of no such paper being available in London, but Deeds has explained to me that it is a most clever artiface which harnesses the power of the telegraph by which to convey the latest happenings in far-off lands directly into the homes of its subscribers. Will such wonders ever cease?
As I find myself wanting for diversion since I have been made an involuntary guest of these mountebanks and confidence-men who call themselves "scientists", I have decided to endeavour in making contact with you, my admirers, through this marvelous publication. Though I lack a telegraph key in the quarters I have been given (not that it would operate given that my gaolers insist for some reason on continuing to fill the room with water day after day), Deeds has agreed to collect my mail and take dictation for me while the watchful eyes of the guardsmen are turned away, that I might correspond through these pages with any and all who wish to enquire of my life and adventures.
Tell me, my fellow Englishmen and our brothers and cousins throughout the world, what would you ask of me? What exploits of mine would you wish to know of? What secrets of my life and times would you have laid bare? What opinions or beliefs of my own do you wish to learn of? While I am sure the editors of this news-paper are quite diligent in censoring matters of a prurient or classified nature, I shall do my best to answer any honest and decent questions that any of you might have. I eagerly await receiving your responses.
Yours in Christ,
T.T.B.
—-
Jekeled writes:
You are aware you're a slug, right?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Mr. Jekeled - I have heard that joke several times, and I no longer find it as risible as once I did. Obviously I am a man, and not a slug - for how else could I hunt, and fight, and write, and sing, and love? Perhaps you are in need of a new pair of eyeglasses - I can recommend a fellow in Brighton who sold me a pince-nez capable of seeing back in time.
Egads, sir, I have that very same pince-nez sitting in my parlor! Could this be a black forgery of some sort?
Perhaps - I have heard that those blackguards, Messrs. Marshall, Carter, and Dark have made quite a bit of ill-gotten wealth counterfeiting Henry's contraptions. I would have it thoroughly examined by a phlogistonic engineer as soon as possible. I know not what far-off corner of the world you find yourself in, but surely there is one in the nearest metropolis?
Hah! Even if the rapscallions have gypped me, I have gotten adequate use out of those spectacles. Saved my life in Bora-Bora in '72.
That was you? By Jove, boy, I thought we were both finished after the manticore got between us and the powder magazine. Did you ever find out what happened to Baron von Almsbach?
Poor fellow, never the brightest jewel in the necklace, you know. Picked an ill-timed fight with a ruffian in the East End.
Oooh. Nasty.
We never did find the entirety of that poor blighter's lower torso…
—-
SwamplessThing writes:
My good fellow! Please share with me a story concerning the loss of your greatest love.
Lord Blackwood replies:
Mr. SwamplessThing - my greatest love, of course, is England herself, and God willing we shall never lose her. I have heard distressing news from the doctors here that she is not as strong and mighty as once she was - but she endures, and I am told that there sits now a queen almost as savvy and beloved as my dear Victoria herself.
The story of my marriage to Countess Francesca, the daughter of the Neapolitan archduke - now that is another story entirely, and one I shall have to recount in great detail someday - but suffice it to say that the Knights Hospitaller take no prisoners, and the steppes of Mongolia are a cruel and unforgiving land.
—-
Dr J Sombre writes:
Lord Blackwood, I've lately stumbled across a bit of a poser- which is better, a Tesla Coil gun or one of those fancy little 'ray-guns' I've seen sometimes in artificers' markets? I was planning to do a little exploration down Brazil-way, perhaps in those rainforest sinkholes I've heard so much about, so would it be wiser to sacrifice a little power for more portability? Or would I be kicking myself when the mokele-mbembes came? (I'd ask my guides to carry it, but finding a trustworthy native who can spelunk worth a damn… Well, it's no easy task I can tell you.)
Also, top hat or bowler?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Dr. Sombre - While I am personally fond of my particle destabilizing muskets, you would likely have great difficulty acquiring one yourself, as Mr. Moth's waiting list has been known to extend for years filling his orders. I'm told the old man insists on making every one of them by hand after being swindled by an urchin he hired to assist him. In any event, I find that radium weapons are more effective than electrical any day of the week.
And I should hope you don't encounter Mokele-Mbembe in the Amazon, for that would mean that you had either gone mad or turned to drink - for the creature seldom strays from its demesne in the Congo, and I know of no cousins of itself to be found in South America. Beware the great snake the natives call Matatoro, however, and the giant sloths that prey on man and beast alike.
(Incidentally, the next time you find yourself in Sao Paolo, seek out a tavern called 'A história do galo e o touro' and ask for a bar-man named Armando. The old boy makes the finest martini i've ever tasted outside of London.)
As to headgear, I prefer the comfort of a pith helmet when I find myself in the wild, but when it comes to the social scene, I would sooner be seen naked than without my top hat.
Well, maybe with my grasp of Geography I should stay at home. Or try and aquire better travel guides; I think I was sold a pup.
—-
Catboy637 writes:
Good sir, I must ask: how do you survive these so-called "scientists" filling your room with water?
In addition, have you been given proper access to a Bible?
Lastly, who is heir to your titles, upon (God forbid it!) the event of your death?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Mr. Catboy - It's not the first time i've been forced to live underwater, I assure you. One does grow accustomed to it eventually. I've requested a Bible several times, but my attendants have denied all my requests thus far for books. I was, of course, three times the winner of the annual Scripture Knowledge competition in my days at Eton, and I can still recite the book of Matthew, and most of Leviticus, from beginning to end by memory.
As to an heir - sadly, my life of adventure has yet left me little time to raise a family. Lord Randolph Churchill's third son, Winnie, is my godson, though I have not seen him since he was but a boy - I expect he has done quite well in life, and my current will specifies him (or his descendent) as the heir to my lands and title.
Are you aware of the proposal to revive the Ancient Greek Olympic games? The great city of London has been chosen as the new site at which they will be held.
Indeed? This is most fascinating news - though surely the runners will not compete in the nude as the Grecians once did, one hopes.
Lord Blackwood, have you ever encountered the Amaski tribe of Africa?  They have quite the odd oral tradition, and with all your exploration, any knowledge you can provide on them would be invaluable.
On an unrelated note, what is the best way to prevent sunburn while travelling near the equator, in your opinion?
Drewbear writes:
Nay, not naked, but near enough. The contestants, both male and female (yes, indeed!), tend to wear the most shockingly form-fitting clothing when competing in the more physically strenuous events.
Personally, I prefer the more dignified sporting events of archery, shooting and equestrianism. And although it is somewhat distressing to see ladies of refinement competing in the swimming or gymnastic events, there is nothing finer than a gentle-woman upon a good dressage horse. And a woman has matched the record for skeet-shooting! 99 hits out of 100! Alas, they use but ordinary rifles rather than the more effective weaponry owned by yourself.
—-
Boa Noah writes:
What does Mr. Deeds smell like?
Lord Blackwood replies:
A strange query indeed, but I find that he often has the scent of fresh lilacs about him. What cologne or secret he uses, he refuses to tell me.
Thank you, good day fine sir.
—-
Scratskinner writes:
Have you ever met a man deluded into believing himself a sea slug?
What diversions of this era do you find least offensive to your taste?
Lord Blackwood replies:
A man believing himself a sea slug, Mr. Scratskinner? I should say not - such a thing would be madness, and I associate not with madmen.
I have not had much time to investigate the diversions of the world outside this facility as of late, I regret, but I am told that the game of cricket has become quite popular in the last century. Now that, my friend, is a sport truly befitting a gentleman's passions!
(The Americans, I am told, have naturally gotten it all wrong.)
—-
Lordlyhour writes:
Greetings, My fine fellow!
What, dear Gentleman, is your opinion on Facial Hair? Do you have any tips for one who wishes to Keep his Moustachio in Fine Fettle?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Mr. Lordlyhour - Brush, trim, and wax. Always wax.
—-
Drewbear writes:
Do you have any advice with regards to beard maintenance? I am myself blessed with a fine and full beard, yet am prone to a degree of bushiness that is most distracting when laying a buss upon the cheek of my beloved.
Lord Blackwood replies:
A beard? Good heavens no, sir. You should perhaps consult a Russian if such matters are of import to you; I have never worn anything more than a fine and proper English mustache, thank you very much.
—-
SwamplessThing writes:
If I may be so bold as to posit another question to your lordship; Which of Shakespeare's works are your favorite, and why?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Mr. SwamplessThing - the works of the Bard have constantly proven an inspiration to me. I have always counted "Julius Caesar" the finest of his works, though I hold a special place in my heart for "A Midsummer Night's Dream" owing to the circumstances under which I met Oberon himself in battle back in fifty-eight. (Should you ever find yourself in the land of the Fae, be warned that accepting an offer of drink from a lady is considered to be a proposal of marriage, and that the sidhe do not look kindly upon broken engagements.)
—-
Faminepulse writes:
Was wondrin' if you like a good smoke with yer rosie every now an' then? An' if so, what method? What brand balms yer' bristols if you don't mind me askin''?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Is that you, Mr. Horace?
—-
Drewbear writes:
If you had but one request of the blackguards who currently detain you, and they must but answer it, what would it be? Unfortunately, I must perforce decline the question of your own freedom, as, being men of good intelligence, we are both aware of the unlikelihood of that request being granted.
Lord Blackwood replies:
Mr. Drewbear - The food here is sadly wanting. My captors insist on feeding me in the form of these strangely-flavored flakes that they sprinkle into the water. A decent steak, or some eel pie, or just a decent cup of tea would do much to improve my spirits.
—-
MrCobalt writes:
I am aware of your affinity for Aether-based weaponry, but what is your opinion on traditional gunpowder-based firearms? Personally, I find there are few things that match the almost primal thrill of a shotgun recoiling in your grasp as it is fired; are there any more… advanced weapons that have that kind of kick?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Mr. Cobalt - I once had the opportunity to experiment with an electrically-powered "rail-gun" the Germans have been working on. The bloody thing nearly broke my shoulder, but it's got more punch than a dreadnought's broadside. Would that I'd had it with me when I faced down that behemoth in Persia!
—-
VAELynx writes:
What is your opinion on the Great October Socialist Revolution and the workers' movement worldwide?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Mr. VAELynx: I am afraid I have no words with which to describe that rabble that are fit to print in any decent publication.
—-
Tuomey Tombstone writes:
How come you even know how to use a computer - they're a little new for you, right?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Mr. Tuomey - Do you refer to the difference engines of Mr. Babbage's? I saw a demonstration of such a device in fifty-eight, though i'm not certain how it is relevant to our current telegraphic conversation. Deeds has been relaying your questions to me and taking dictation of my response - I assume that once he has done so, he is returning to the telegraph office and wiring my answers to the central offices of this World-Wide Web for distribution.
—-
Goodwill writes:
Has the Royal Society for the Security, Containment, and Protection of Anomalous Artifacts ever requested your services? If so, what have you accomplished for the Society? Also, have you heard of the American Secure Containment Initiative, and their rather…loose requirements for what defines as paranormal phenomena?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Mr. Goodwill - the Royal Foundation and I have, shall we say, a colorful history together - it seems I've found them at my throat as often as i've found them an ally. I have not had the pleasure of doing business with its American counterpart, though I suspect the organization now holding me captive is associated with it.
If I may follow up with a similar question, have you ever had contact with the elusive Professor A.W.? He's the mind behind that electro-mechanical memory machine, along with a few other oddities.
I regret to declare that I have not met the man you speak of, though I have heard his name whispered many times at the gentlemen's club.
—-
Eric_h writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood: I was wondering if you would share your experiences with Marshall, Carter, and Dark. They remain a most disreputable group to this day, and have caused the Foundation a significant amount of trouble. Any opportunities to get the upper hand on them would be most appreciated.
Lord Blackwood replies:
Mr. Eric: Those rogues operate a "gentleman's club" in Knightsbridge - though the name is quite misleading, as neither themselves nor any of the libertinous Bohemians they attract are fit to be called gentlemen. I have known them to be associated with theft, larceny, white slavery, and crimes of nature not fit to be discussed among Christian men, and I would sooner wipe my backside with the Queen's portrait (forgive my immodesty) than willingly do business with any of them. Mr. Dark is the only one I have had the displeasure to meet in person - he is a squat and unseemly fellow, with a scar across one eye and a beard almost Satanic in its cut, and his voice is harsh and discordant. He is, however, surprisingly adept in the art of judo, and I had quite a time fending him off before I could make my escape from the scene of his depravities with the artifact I had come to recover at the Lord Admiral's request.
(Incidentally, I met a young man named Eric once. He had a most unusual collection of artifacts of his own. Might you and he be any relation?)
eric_h replies: You knew my great-uncle? How odd.  Small world, isn't it?
—-
GG Crono writes:
My good Lord,
Surely someone who has been through such ordeals as yourself knows the importance of keeping one's spirits up. So in the interest of raising the spirits of all, I ask you; what is the most humorous happening that you have come across on your travels far and wide?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Mr. Crono - It is a long tale that I do not know if the censors of this publication would allow me to relate in full, but suffice it to say that it involved Lord Palmerston's dog, a one-legged lady of the evening, and a gentleman of the Polish persuasion.
—-
StuporousStuart writes:
Lord Blackwood,
From this fine selection of participants, thou must use one action without repetition, three are given of each.
Wouldst thy choose to wed, slay or lay with the following atrocities;
SCP-136-2, SCP-1308 and SCP-096.
COMMIT THYSELF DISCERNINGLY.
Lord Blackwood replies:
Mr. Stuart - I would most certainly slay all three! If you seek the company of someone who would engage in perversions with such monstrous aberrations, perhaps I should introduce you to my old schoolmate Mr. Harris.
—-
Dmatix writes:
What is your weapon of choice when hunting Giant Howling Sloths? Those things are a bugger to corner, and have a skin as tough as a week old lamprey pie.
Lord Blackwood replies:
Ah, yes, Megatherium. Deceptively agile when they're angry, those ones. I have found that nothing smaller than an elephant gun will even pierce their flesh, but I must say that electric rifles are efficient enough at stunning them for a moment or two - long enough for your porters (or yourself, if you have the stomach for it) to approach from behind and cut its throat with an electric saw.
—-
Boa Noah writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood, if a gentleman must engage in self gratification should he use a lubricating lotion? Do you have any exotic alternatives for the adventurous yet lonely explorer?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Good heavens, sir! I'll have you know that self-pollution is well-established to lead inevitably to illnessess of the stomach and digestion, loss of appetite or ravenous hunger, vomiting, nausea, weakening of the organs of breathing, coughing, hoarseness, paralysis, weakening of the organ of generation to the point of impotence, lack of libido, back pain, disorders of the eye and ear, total diminution of bodily powers, paleness, thinness, pimples on the face, decline of intellectual powers, loss of memory, attacks of rage, madness, idiocy, epilepsy, fever and finally suicide.
If you absolutely must indulge the masculine urge while afield, you would be better advised (so I am told) to seek out a lady-in-waiting. Be wary, however, for my less morally scrupulous associates have told me that in Indochina it is common for men of an effeminate persuasion to disguise themselves as ladies, and in so doing beguile men of immorality out of their money.
—-
Lord Blackwood writes from the future:
Thank God I brought my trusty Electro-Dynamic Curvator to send this back to you. There isn't much time. You need, urgently, to tell the Prime Minister to halt the memorial service at the Abbey next Sunday. There's a sniper from the future on the rooftop with one of Herr Buechinger-Dolmutz's air rifles trying to kill Her Majesty. I fear his plan is to divert history into a continuum in which we are conquered by the French on a pretext of restoring order. To prove this is me I give the password: Celeste. I only hope you remember her in your world. Now, GO! God speed, and the best of British luck.
Lord Blackwood replies:
Stephen, is that you? Good one, big brother - you almost had me going for a moment there. This is payback for that time I convinced you the Swedish had invaded Newcastle, isn't it?
—-
Trinitite writes:
Noble Viscount, I seem to find myself a mite confused. Your title as Viscount of Westminster appears in breach of the sacred tradition that no two peers can have title to the same place at once. How was it not noticed in 1831 that creating the Grosvenor family Marquesses-and now, I hear, Dukes-of Westminster most treasonably violates the long Blackwood lineage?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Dear me, are the Grosvenors still at it? To hear my father tell the tale, that disreputable clan has been trying to usurp my family's titles since before the Protestant Reformation, and they've sided with the most disreputable sorts - Yorkists, Spaniards, Cromwellians, even that blasted Prince Charlie and his horde of Scottish pretenders - to try and wrest it from us. Legend has it that the feud goes all the way back to a slight that occurred between their progenitor and my own during the Hundred Years War - of course, they claim that it was Robert de Forêt-Noir who was responsible, and not t'other way around. Foolish louts.
—-
Trinitite writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
Is it true that you are made of win?
Lord Blackwood replies:
I'm afraid I don't understand the expression, Mr. Trinitrite. I am merely a man of flesh and blood like any other. True, I have won a great many times, but to win is an act, not a substance of which one can be composed.
—-
Doktori writes:
Lord Blackwood, have you heard of a rising academical named A. Einstein? I hear he has some interesting ideas about the photoelectric effect as well as gravity.
Lord Blackwood replies:
Dr. Tori - I met a teenaged Swiss by that name in ninety-seven. He seemed to be quite a contemplative young man with an interest in matters physical. I lent him six shillings for carriage fare and he promised to pay me back once he wins Mr. Nobel's endowment. Has he done so, do you know? I am quite certain that with interest, that loan should be more than enough to bribe the watchmen here to get me some decent scotch, or at least a cup of tea.
I don't believe he will receive Mr. Nobel's prize until the early 1920's. I'm afraid you may not receive your money, but I would greatly enjoy sharing a nice cask of Mortlach or Speyside with you.
—-
J THOMPSON BRADLEY, ESQ. (U.K. CITIZEN) WRITES:
HELLO LORD %{NAME},
May our lord Christ bless you and keep you. I am J Thompson Bradley Esq. a United Kingdom Citizen and Registered Barrister. I am Attorney of Law to the deceased Oil Executive Mr. John Hamilton of BRITISH PETROLUEM Inc. based in Basra Iraq.
On June 13, 2012 my client Mr. HAMILTON was killed in an aeroplane accident in Iraq. At the time of his death certain oil leases in my client's name had been sold and the money deposited into his confidential fiduciary account. I have been authorized by BRITISH PETROLUEM to repatriate my client's funds to his next of kin. However, Mr. HAMILTON has no known living relatives and under UNITED KINGDOM law within three months if a next of kin is still unfound his funds must revert to Her Majesties' Government.
I write to you today in the hopes of your assistance in repatriating the £25million to United Kingdom of funds currently held in escrow in UNITED BANK OF IRAQ to allow us time to find next of kin of mr HAMILTON. In return for your aid we would pay a fee of (10%) of funds.
All I require is your honest and confidential co-operation to see this deal through. Please contact me with your full names, address in UNITED KINGDOM, bank account number, and fax no. to allow us to further discuss this situation.
Your obedient servant,
J THOMPSON BRADLEY ESQ. (UK CITIZEN)
Lord Blackwood replies:
"Aeroplane"? "Iraq"? "Fax"? "2012"?
Dear me, is this another one of those bizarre religious pitches from the Latter-Day Saints?
—-
Spacecadet writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
Boxers or briefs?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Union suit.
—-
McKinteer writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
I am wondering if, in your travels of the North American Continent, you had the pleasure of meeting the inventor and industrialist Samuel Colt before his untimely death in 1862. If so, did he perchance gift to you any special sort of firearm to which the public was never made aware of? For I have heard rumors that before his passing, he designed and built a most excellent pistol which had the capability of being able to slay even the vilest of hellspawn with a single round.
Lord Blackwood replies:
Ah, yes, the Improved Anti-Daemon Revolver Mark V. I'm afraid I no longer have it in my collection - I bequeathed it to my little brother, the archbishop, as a Christmas gift. Such a thing comes in quite handy in the career of an exorcist, you know.
—-
Dr. Iceberg writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
Do you prefer hot or cold climates?
Also, what would you say is the most dangerous continent?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Dr. Iceberg - now that is an amusing question coming from a person named such as you are!
Truly, I would not trade the climate of my native England for any other, but there are times in one's life when one enjoys a respite from the cold and the fog. The tropical climates are, by the nature of the civilisations to be found there, the lands where I do much of my adventuring, and I have grown quite accustomed to the warm sun, the thick humid air, and the refreshing cool of the oceans and rivers.
As to your latter question, I would venture to say that Antarctica, that great unexplored mass to the south, may be the deadliest of them all - for while it (so far as I have yet determined) possesses no great beasts or savage races to beguile the explorer, it has neither any fauna, nor fruits and vines, nor even any tree to harvest for firewood, and the perpetual freezing cold and long nights would surely drive any man to madness or death. I have heard rumours that it was not always the case - the journals of Piri Re'is, the mad Turk, suggest that it was but a few centuries ago a green and verdant land. How could such a realm be transformed so quickly in the overall scheme of things? Perhaps one day I shall charter an observation in search of clues thereunto.
—-
Scratskinner writes:
How long do you suppose it'll take before those Foundation blackguards catch wind of this enterprise, and put a stop to it?
Lord Blackwood replies:
I have every confidence in Deeds' ability to elude detection, Mr. Scratskinner. Though he is but a simple valet of working-class birth, his ability to move in the shadows rivals that of the ninja assassins of the Orient. In fact, on the occasion of my visit to Edo… ah, but that's a tale for another time.
—-
Foundation Agent Baxter writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
Why has this metal sphere we found in your collection started ticking? And how can we make it stop? Thank you for any assistance.
Lord Blackwood replies:
I fear I cannot say except to assure you that it must be deactivated as soon as possible. I would be more than happy to render my assistance, but the fools in charge here refuse to let me examine it, even in spite of the fact that it clearly attempted to speak to me when I saw it carried past me the other day.
—-
Jethro writes:
How did you first meet Deeds? Has he ever made you upset, disappointed, etc? And has he always lived in that bell of his?
Lord Blackwood replies:
It was 1837 - the day of Queen Victoria's coronation, indeed. I had just returned to my London estate after watching the festivities and there he was, in the midst of pressing and starching my shirts. He wouldn't say how he'd gotten in, or who sent him - but he has been my valet ever since, and never has he been anything but completely faithful and diligent in his responsibilties. (Well, aside from that unfortunate incident in the Wyoming Territory with the drunken Indian, but none of us expected him to have a Tomahawk, of all things, hidden up there.)
—-
Foundation Historian Gallow writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
We are currently investigating the process by which Ireland became independent from the British Empire. We have a theory that the Irish rebels may have used some kind of reality-distorting artifact, possibly ancient and possibly dug up immediately south-west of the Hill of Tara, to either achieve sufficient military success to persuade the British to withdraw, or to divert history into a reality in which the nationalists won. Can you throw any light on this matter?
Lord Blackwood replies:
The Irish? Independent? By jingo, old sport, that's the funniest thing I've heard all week.
—-
Researcher Cobalt writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
An associate of mine has wagered that you may have heard of SCP-1326, or a similar tome. What do you say to that?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Dr. Cobalt - I must say, the terms you amateurs use to refer to the mysterious and wonderful artifacts our world is teeming with are so dry. Where is your sense of wonder?
I cannot say that I have encountered the particular volume you mention - had I, I no doubt could have spent decades simply in cataloging its contents. I am made to understand it even contains references to myself, which I find most disconcerting - for I have never consented to my memoirs being put into publication, and if the original producer of this book has profited from it, then I intend to speak to a solicitor about the matter as soon as I am freed from this facility.
Researcher Cobalt replies:
I see. It is rather fortunate for my associate that there was no money involved in the wager.
I was actually the one responsible for SCP-1326's original documentation, and unoficially dubbed the tome "The Lexicon"; unfortunately, protocol only lets me refer to it by its official SCP designation. As for its anomalous documentation of your adventures, I am afraid a solicitor may not be of much help in the matter of copyright; I fear that book's author may hail from an alternate timeline, or even another reality, and would be beyond our reach or jurisdiction.
Speaking of your adventures, did the one described in the Lexicon really occur?
—-
William, in the Foundation mail room writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood:
We have received an unusual parcel from a "Mr. Moth" via post from London.  Perchance, did you order something?  If we can't identify the item, protocol definitely prohibits passing it along to you.
Lord Blackwood replies:
Dash it all! He was supposed to address it to "Pervical Wilburforce" so that Deeds could secret it to me after it was dead-lettered. Are you quite sure you couldn't just allow me to access it on Sundays? I assure you it poses no danger to anyone - it is merely a trans-Akashic codex viewer. I've grown quite bored without my library at hand, you see, and I was hoping to be able to use it to revise my old notes and finally get around to learning Greek.
—-
Dr. Edison writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
Have you ever been to Japan?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Dr. Edison - Deeds and I made a secret trip there in fourty-six, posing as Dutchmen, in order to retrieve some documents for the Duke of Edinburgh. I met a strange fellow named "Darkblade" there - he seemed to think quite highly of himself, though I found him to be little more than arrogant, aggrandizing, and incapable of holding his own in a stand-up fight. (And possibly, if I may say so, a Bohemian.)
—-
Spacecadet writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
Just for the sake of argument, would you actually recognize a sea slug if you saw one?
Lord Blackwood replies:
You insult me, Mr. Spacecadet! Mr. Darwin and I catalogued no fewer than seventy-three species of sea slug during our voyages in the south seas! I daresay I could not only recognize one at fifty paces, but tell you its species, how old it was, and what it had eaten for breakfast that day.
—-
BRIT BRITISHMAN writes:
G'DAY, GOVINAH,
PIP PIP CHERRIO OFF TO THE FIVE 'AN DIME APPLES AN PARES BLOODY WANKING HELL OFF YER ROCKER GOD SAVE THE QUEEN FOR KING AND COUNTRY BY OUR MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE!
Lord Blackwood replies:
Yes… quite.
—-
Dr. Edison writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
Have you ever met a funny man who owns a time-traveling blue box that's bigger on the inside?
Lord Blackwood replies:
I cannot say that I have. I did, however, once meet a strange man in possession of a glass kiosk he claimed could travel through time. He called himself Rufus and urged me to be excellent. He had two idle youths in his company who spoke with a strange accent and used words the likes of which I hope to never hear again - if this be the future of mankind, I begin to wonder whether all my efforts have been for naught.
—-
Nyehcat writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
Have you ever had a run-in with the Church of the Broken God?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Do you mean the Unitarians?
—-
Lord James T. Archibald writes:
My dearest Lady Blackwood,
To you I can barely express how I miss your touch, your voice, your smell. I cannot wait until next Tuesday for us to be together again. Your supple breasts and moist lips call to me from that terrible estate of your husband's. Last Thursday in the cabbage patch you made a proposal to me after a fervent session of love making; that we run away together from your dreadful husband and my tyrant of a wife, and start a life in the new world. I have decided to accept your proposal. Meet me outside the Hogswash Inn on Friday night wearing a green scarf, and we will away together to Virginia. Make sure to keep this letter safe from the prying eyes of your husband and his servants.
Lord Blackwood replies:
My mother was a saint, you varlet! I ought to horse-whip you on the front steps of your club for this sort of obscene slander! As soon as I effect my escape from this facility, I shall find you and we will settle this in the ancient manner afforded to men of honour (not that you have any, I am sure).
—-
Harry Flashman writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
Regarding the ancient manner of resolving disputes afforded to men of honour that you allude to, would you have any advice for a young gentleman about to settle his first such affair of honour? A reply before dawn would be most appreciated, not to say helpful.
Yours,
H. Flashman
P.S. Please bear my best regards to your lady wife.
Lord Blackwood replies:
As the challengee (I presume), you ought to have the right to select your weapon of choice. Have you any particular specialty - pistol, epee, perhaps the smallsword? If not, choose that which you know your rival is lacking in skill with. If nothing else, simply allow your rival to take first blood and call it done - unless he is an utterly contemptible rogue, this should satisfy his need for satisfaction.
(Incidentally, if you do not desist from speaking of my familial relations in such a manner, then the best advice I can give you is to cheat - for I never lose.)
—-
Gilgamesh writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
Have you ever found Excalibur? If so, can I have it?
-The Great And Powerful GILGAMESH!!!!!!!!
Lord Blackwood replies:
Twice, in fact, but I fear it is no longer in my possession. The Lady of the Lake is a surprisingly adept card-shark.
—-
Grug writes:
Wurg naf, Lord Blackwood, hal darl daff!
Ror nuff hoff muusel draff, Bur hoff oss iriff loss.
Murrn ror purn haff nansel ram?  Mur nas oss woff huubess juss?
Oss ven rab,
Grug
Lord Blackwood replies:
If you say so.
Grug replies:
Holl, Lord Blackwood, nol ram.
Err waff raff wurg murrn marr.  Kaff sil na "Problem" nif tal English.  
Morlaf vaf kril tarr.  Werf wurg raff woll kurf oss.  Poss rofs zet aussnal refnel kreff, sil na narrim.  Quass nerrif na darl zoff genocide darr.  Varg wurg lurr nef posskeff.  Raff kwor bor na remoff zet kral waff bref, neffil zaffer extinct groff, murrn ruff nuclear breff haff England wurg…
Kroff ved,
Grug
Lord Blackwood replies:
Are you in need of an alienist, my dear boy?
Grug replies:
Raff ross oss vern.  Murrn werrin porr English fon ref.  Nerr:
"Us.  Genocide.  England.  Nuclear.  Soon."
Kroff ved,
Grug
Lord Blackwood replies:
Dear boy, please sober up before you try to write anything else.
—-
Spacecadet writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
I was wondering if you would favor us with your thoughts on the late civil war in the States.
Sincerely,
Spacecadet
Lord Blackwood replies:
Ours was better.
—-
Agent Baxter writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
I am writing for the Site-17 newsletter an article on what clothes are the height of fashion this season. Can you tell me what you are wearing at the moment, and what your sartorial plans for this summer will be?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Unfortunately, Agent Baxter, your confederates have not seen it fit to release my full wardrobe into my possession after they took custody of it from my country estate. Perhaps if you could put in a good word with them I could give you a more proper lecture on the nature of proper English fashion. (See to it that they drain the room of water as well; wool does not hold up well under the circumstances of the climate I find myself imprisoned in.)
As to the summer, Agent, one cannot go wrong with khaki if one finds oneself in the tropics, but if it is an English summer you have in mind, I am told that a less formal form of the traditional Evening Dress has of late been adapted by the hoi polloi. It is my personal opinion that the ascot tie is the most elegant accessory a gentleman can adorn himself with, though I understand that the four-in-hand style so beloved by Prince Albert the Younger has made inroads lately.
I do not expect that his fashion sensibilities will long endure; however, the brand of canned tobacco marketed under his name is most superb. Could you perhaps see to acquiring some for me? I have made several covert attempts to request a delivery of it by tele-phone; however, every tobacconist whom I have spoken to on the matter has responded most rudely.
—-
Foundation Weaponeer Buggle writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
Who do you think would win in a fight between a brown bear and a hammerhead shark?
Lord Blackwood replies:
I cannot say, Mr. Buggle, that I can envision a scenario where such a confrontation would occur. Would that I still had the address of my old associate at the Royal Centre for Selachian Pugilistics, for he was once the world's foremost expert on subjects of such a nature.
—-
██████ █. ██████ writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
I am the writer of the Brink Dangerguts Adventures, a harmless set of novels about the world of mercenaries and explorers which for some reason the O5s consider a libelous security breach. But anyway, in my next book I am considering including an epic chase through the streets of Beirut in which our hero seeks shelter and weapons in a shady bar before leaping out to win the day in an epic fight intended to be a combination of The Bourne Ultimatum, Oliver! and Bad Boys II. As I am unable to go on leave to do any research in the Lebanon in case the Foundation works out who I am, can you recommend a suitable location for these happenings? You can be the book's dedicatee if you want.
Lord Blackwood replies:
Do the Ottomans now permit the open establishment of bars in the Levant? My, how the world has changed since I found myself behind these walls! I knew of no legal establishments that the Sultanate would countenance during my last visit to those parts - however, should your character find his way to Cairo, there is an excellent establishment in the basement of the French consulate there.
I must admit that I am not familiar with the books you name, though your description brings to mind the adventure novels of Stevenson or that American fellow Clemens whom I met while he was touring the Holy Land in sixty-seven. I got the impression that he was unimpressed with my anecdotes, though he promised not to describe me unflatteringly in the text he was writing.
—-
Space Core writes:
Get to space. Wanna get to space. Can you get me to space? SPAAAAAAAAAAAAACE!
Lord Blackwood replies:
My old associate Dr. Hightower is the best at space, good boy.
—-
Dr. Edison writes:
How do I get all this semen off my keyboard?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Good heavens, boy, that's just foul.
—-
McKineteer writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
What was your opinion of the two world wars which we have had?
Lord Blackwood replies:
"World war"? That is not a term I am familiar with, Mr. McKineteer. Do you perhaps refer to the Crimean War, and the wars against Napoleon? Nasty business, those - I think (and hope) that we shall never see another affray as bloody as the former, or as drawn out as the latter.
—-
Murrin Pinethorn writes:
Can you describe your family, Lord Blackwood?  You mentioned a brother.
Lord Blackwood replies:
I do not speak often of my family, Mr. Pinethorn, for I would not wish it to be thought I was riding on their coat-tails. My father is the esteemed Sir Edward Thomas George Blackwood, who I am sure needs no introduction, and I am the second of his four children. Admiral Sir Stephen Blackwood is the eldest of us, and Archbishop Clifford Blackwood the youngest; between he and I is Duchess Catherine Blackwood (being the wife of the Duke of Brandenburg). It has been some time since I saw them all together; the last time was most eventful, and perhaps you will sometime have an opportunity to read my diaries about the occasion.
—-
Doktori writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
If you could bring only two weapons with you for a prolonged journey through the African veldt, what would they be? Also, how many porters would you think would be necessary for such a journey? Thank you for your time.
Lord Blackwood replies:
One of my destabilizing muskets and possibly a pistol - though if you count a machete as a weapon, then I should have to take that in stead of the pistol, for such a blade is invaluable in the darkest regions of the continent. I should want for at least half a dozen porters, I should think, and if possible one or two native guides familiar with the lay of the land. (Ensure, should you be planning a trip yourself, that your guides be Christian - I nearly met an ill fate in sixty-two as the result of a Punjabi guide who turned out to be a member of the Thuggee.)
—-
CITIZEN O' US OF A writes:
MURICA
Lord Blackwood replies:
God save the Queen.
—-
Nyehcat writes:
I say, how did you convince your brother that the Swedish had invaded Newcastle? That might make for a riveting tale.
Lord Blackwood replies:
King Oscar owed me a favour.
—-
Agent Thesson writes
Hello kind fellow! It seems I have an undocumented species of Carp on my desk. I don't know where it came from but it appears to have lungs. Isn't that just DANDY! Should I Put it in a loving zoo to keep it from sucking on my finger or just give it to a fellow researcher?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Ah, yes, the Patagonian lungcarp! Magnificent beasts. Would that I had access to my laboratory so that I could perform a proper examination for you - perhaps in the meantime it would be best to observe its natural behaviours.
—-
O5-█ writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
What are your thoughts about this business in Samothrace?
Lord Blackwood replies:
I do not believe I am particularly familiar with any business in that nation.
—-
Agent Adam Henderson writes:
Lord Blackwood, I've been wondering about your views on the rights of non-human but sapient creatures such as Centipede Nymphs or King Alaric the Fifth
Also, have you ever had any contact with the individual or group known as Dr. Wondertainment?
Lord Blackwood replies:
I have wracked my brain many nights over the question of King Alaric and his "animal kingdom", as it were. If you have read my diaries of that encounter, you know as well as I do that he and his followers are Christian, or claim to be - but whether the beasts of the forest have souls in need of salvation is a topic that was never addressed by the instructors at Eton.
As to your second question - I knew an Edmund Wondertainment many years ago in Manchester, though he was a blacksmith and not a doctor. He was not an educated man, but he had wisdom and ambitions beyond his station - he dreamed of making toys for children, and hoped through his earnings to one day send his son to university and thereby be able to care for him so that in old age he could pursue his dream.
—-
E. Elric:
Have you ever dabbled in alchemy? If so, do you have any insights into the creation of the Great Work, AKA the Philosopher's Stone?
Lord Blackwood replies:
I have never dabbled myself, although I do have some associates familiar with the art of alchemy. I have had need of their consultations on several occasions.
—-
Grand Dreadlord Xifax Lightbane
Salutations, Lord Blackwood
The Black Counsel requests your presence at the Eternal Citadel of The Seventh Eye regarding the acquisition of soulstones used to keep THE SCREAMING MAN! bound to Gaspar's Revenants. Should you ignore our request, the Akashic Glyphs will rupture, and neither heaven nor hell will be able to halt the ensuing chaos.
Lord Blackwood replies:
Dear me, Mr. Lightbane. As much as I would be delighted to assist you with this no doubt urgent matter, I fear the guardsmen here are utterly insistent on my not leaving this tank. Perhaps you could put in a word with them?
—-
John Swindle writes:
Good day Lord Blackwood!  You may be pleased to know that I for one humbly hold you in highest esteem, enjoy reading your adventures, insights and wisdom, receive your publication to the World-Wide Web in the Americas, and am simply one of many in all of these regards.  I hope you find yourself in good spirits, and that I do not damper them terribly with the following information, which I feel must be passed along to you.  I regret to inform you that I as well as the rest of your subscribers remain unfortunately ignorant as to the true nature of your appearance; living witnesses of yourself seem to be impossible for any of us to locate save Mr. Deeds (I personally suspect this to be the elaborate work of your captors), and Deeds himself, despite his elusiveness from your guardsmen as well as the many other fine qualities that he possesses, is tragically lacking the means to properly retrieve a record of your visage, in artistic form, accurate photographic form via George Eastman's photographic film (I understand the human eye would fare no better in any event given the distorting effects in which your captivity in water produces), or descriptive form, as he insists he is bound by confidentiality to his employer.  With this in mind, would you humbly provide us with a description of yourself?  We loyal subscribers do have a vague idea based upon various publications to which we have access, yet I trust that you and I both would prefer thoroughness to such a degree that a proper portrait truly fitting of a Lord such as yourself could be painted from such information, by an artist worthy to paint a gentlemen of your rank.  You need spare no expense, as it would be my honor to finance and circulate your proper portrait.
Yours in Christ,
J.C.S.
Lord Blackwood replies:
Would that I could conduct a proper sitting for a daguerrotype at this time, for I am not as young a man as I once was when last I had a proper sitting in ninety-seven. The closer I get to fifty, the more gray I find in my neatly-trimmed brown mane and my proud English moustache, and I find it more and more difficult to read without my spectacles. Let no one say that age has sapped my vitality, however; for I am as fit and barrel-chested as ever I was, and when the good Mr. Lincoln and I had occasion to meet in sixty-three I found that he stood as tall as I. My eyes are blue, for which my brown-eyed siblings teased me constantly as a child, alleging that I was a bastard or a Mongoloid (a claim abetted, no doubt, by the bout of left-handedness that plagues me to this day). Though my face and hands are unblemished, were you to observe me in the buff you would find my arms and trunk cris-crossed every which way with a lifetime's worth of scars, every one of them proudly earned in battle or in exploration. I cannot say more, for modesty's sake; but allow me to assure you that the reputation of the Blackwood family of being possessed heartily of stamina and virility is not one ill-assigned.
—-
Dr. Edison Writes:
What would you say if I told you that a man of African descent was elected president of the United States of America?
-Dr. Edison
Lord Blackwood replies:
Of South African descent, certainly?
—-
L. Heartstrings Writes:
Have you ever visited a land of magical talking horses?
eric_h writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood:  I keep hearing rumours about talking horses in London.  Have you ever met any?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Once, yes. I found it highly unsettling and in no way whatsoever whimsical, satrical, or condemnatory of the British class system.
—-
Dr. Bright Writes:
What do you think about Antidisestablishmentarianism?
Lord Blackwood replies:
I am an antidisestablishmentarian, sir, and I am proud to call myself one. Let the atheists and reprobates sally off to France if they wish it.
Incidentally - have we met? I seem to recall encountering a Mr. Bright in Africa back in seventy-four.
—-
Mrs. Gallow Writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
From your experience, do you think pufferkittens are a suitable pet for a 14 year-old?
Lord Blackwood replies:
I would have no objection, Mrs. Gallow, as long as one ensures that the beasts are not able to breed. Blackwood Manor was overrun by hundreds of the things when my sister secreted a pair into her room as a child. The conservatory still smells of dander.
—-
S. Bad Writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
How do you type with boxing gloves on?
Lord Blackwood replies:
With great difficulty, I would imagine. Mr. Remington's typographical machine is difficult enough to operate as intended.
—-
Darkblade Writes:
HOW DARE YOU SPREAD LIES ABOUT DARKBLADE! I WILL DESTROY YOOOOOOUUUUUU!
Lord Blackwood replies:
I apologize if my words have caused any insult, ma'am.
—-
Spacecadet writes:
Dear sir,
What is it like to live amongst people with so many odd idees fixees on the subject of sea slugs? And how do you suppose one comes to have these fixations in the first place?
Lord Blackwood replies:
It is hardly that difficult to understand. Sea slugs are quite fascinating creatures indeed; I could happily spend the rest of my days merely in cataloguing the hundreds of varieties found in the South Seas.
—-
Mr. Robert Pattinson writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
I am an Englishman working in a foreign country, far from home and unsure whom to trust. I understand that your exploits have been famed for many years-what do you find the best way to cope with feelings of paranoia, anxiety and depression, especially with newspapermen following you around?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Your question reminds me of a strange man I met many years ago in the northwest of America - he was old and possessed of great strength, but was forever trapped in the body of an adolescent, and his flesh seemed to shimmer and coruscate when touched by the sun's rays. As I recall, he had taken to impersonating a teen-ager and attending primary school with the young people of the region, for he found that those who looked the same age as he were more accepting of his oddities.
—-
Dr Xanderfeld writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
My skin has taken to the rot before my appointed time, and I fear there is very little I can do to reverse the process. A colleague of mine recommended I ask you if you had knowledge of anything sufficient to return to me the youth of my flesh, as they claimed you have seen wonders beyond the wildest imaginings of men in your adventures. So tell me, have you ever found something capable of such feats?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Woe, Dr. Xanderfield, but I cannot report that I have made such a discovery. In my younger days I quested in the Floridian peninsula for the legendary Fountain of Youth, but found instead only inscrutable Indians, rancid swamp waters, and the ravages of malaria. I have heard tales of a cosmetic application which effortlessly conceals the scars of age, but I am told that it is a terribly addictive compound, and that one long left without its benefit will find that their skin rots and sloughs away far more rapidly than if had been left along to begin with. I would certainly not recommend that treatment; however, if you are sitting for a photographic portrait, I am told that a generous application of make-up can do wonders to conceal wrinkles and give the camera cause to portray one as years or decades younger than is truly the case.
—-
Lord Darkbirch writes:
Lord Blackwood,
You are a man with exquisite taste. Do you enjoy the works of modern authors such as Dickens and Hawthorne? My children adore their works, but I simply cannot stand their prose. I have demanded their tutors to stay true to literature in the classical sense, yet I just found out last week that she had been disobeying me and sneaking the works of Burnett and James into the house. Naturally, I dismissed her, yet my children has already been convinced that this is great literary work. I have read the works, and I have found them to be pure rubbish. Why does my children find them so enticing?
Lord Blackwood replies:
I have always found the works of Dickens and Hawthorne most interesting, for the good gentlemen elucidate the status of the working-class in a manner which Providence and circumstance have prevented me from observing first-hand; I do, however, find his tendencies towards sesquipedalianity to be most bothersome and distracting. (I am told that the news-papers of London pay writers of fiction by the word for their serials; had I the inclination to do so, I could easily have become their equal without setting foot outside London!)
I must confess to not being largely familiar with the works of James or Burnett, though I had occasion to read Hardy's The Mayor of Casterbridge while traveling aboard the Orient Express in eighty-nine; I found it to be a most horrifying tale of how even a man of an intellectual disposition and a repentant nature, regardless of the circumstances of his birth, might rise to fame and glory only to fall even beyond the point from which he had begun. I immediately upon having finished it offered Deeds an additional pound per year on his salary, though he graciously declined the offer.
—-
Goodwill writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
If circumstances came to be so unfortunate, would you sooner retire as a naturalist and adventurer, or denounce your loyalty to England and her Church?
Lord Blackwood replies:
I should sooner be flayed alive and made a feast for cannibals, Mr. Goodwill, than denounce England and her Church. God in His wisdom has made the laws of science rigid and eternal; but our church and our state are things of men, temporal and vulnerable. The Earth shall not move or fall asunder if I abandon it, but England, for the want of a single loyal subject to wave her banner, could easily be lost to history. It is the duty of all her subjects to do their best to ensure that this doom may never come to pass.
—-
Ch00bakka wirtes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
Have you heard about the phenomenon of "Lizstomania"? Some fellows at the Royal Foundation for the Study of Curiosities and Phantasmagoria claim that it may be cause by some supernatural or otherwise abnormal effect centered on Mr. Lizst. Have you ever come into contact with anything like this in your travels? And do you find Mr. Lizst as dreamy as I do?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Ah, Liszt! I must confess I briefly contracted the "Liszt fever" in forty-one. My participations in the Great Austrian Warlock Hunt brought me to Berlin, where I found the young composer beset on all sides by fanatical ladies. I assisted the man in making his way to the safety of his hotel, where he favored me with a private performance. Had I been born a lady, I think I might have proposed marriage to him - but common sense prevailed, and I beat a hasty retreat before embarrassing myself.
—-
Dr. Rights writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
I want your babies. Preferably human ones though this isn't absolutely a requirement. How do you think I should go about achieving this goal?
Lord Blackwood replies:
Ah, a lady has come a-courting! Splendid! Tell me, ma'am, what pastimes do you fancy? What is your favorite colour? Are you, I hope, Church of England?
—-
Emissary the Sixth writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
Have you ever, intentionally or accidentally, swapped bodies with that of another organism?
Also, what is, in your experience, the best way to avoid giving into the urge to murder someone?
P.S. Have you ever heard the joke about the man everyone thought was a sea slug?
—-
Shulk writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
A girl that I had been in love with for the longest time was recently killed by an army of robots. How would I go about avenging her?
Regards, Shulk
—-
Heropon Riki writes:
Dear Blackwoodpon,
How do I become world famous greatest heropon ever?
—-
Major Tom writes:
What do you feel, regarding to the current queen, Queen Elizabeth II? Hopefully she's as good as Queen Victoria?
—-
John Swindle writes:
Salutations once again Lord Blackwood!  I must open with an apology- while I have commissioned your portrait several times over, I've simply been unable to procure an artist with sufficient talent to accurately capture your virility on canvas, much less the fine details of your proudly-worn scars.  I will happily accept recommendations to this end from you.  Having said that, I find a collegue of mine to be in a most unfortunate bind.  Having recently claimed victory over a thaumaturge with my assistance, and against my insistence to the contrary, he had chosen to take into possession said thaumaturge's weapon, which I believe to be the cause of his transmutation into a telepathic lamprey.  Thus I consult your expertise- do you know of any means by which men can reverse this transmutation?  I'm afraid this is a matter of some urgency.  You see, my collegue is in a state of grave distress precisely as one might expect from being made aware of such a traumatic experience, and I fear that with such distress (of which the body of a lamprey is naturally ill-equipped to endure), the thaumaturge may yet at last claim his life.  I will procure any cures of which you know post haste, though due to the experiences I have described herein, I would very much prefer that no cure involve me procuring and subsequently lending my trust to a practitioner of thaumaturgy.
Yours in Christ,
J.C.S.
—-
Dr. Andre writes:
What's cooler than being cool?
Lord Blackwood replies:
The state of being chilled in a fashion comparable to frozen water.
—-
SCP-275 writes:
Dear Mr Blackwood,
I have been informed that you were alive in the nineteenth century, and were quite the world traveler. Might you have ever visited Ottoman territory and heard of, or possibly even met, a young girl with impenetrable skin? If so, would you have any knowledge as to her origins, or perhaps her name?
I ask purely out of idle curiosity.
—-
Trinitite writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
How do you feel about the Foundation classifying you as anomalous?
—-
Guilliman writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
As you are a devout man, I was wondering if you were aware of SCP-343, and if you are, what is your opinion on him?
—-
Bryx writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
I should like to inform you that the "World Wide Web", the entity which your most adept servant has been liaising with on your behalf, is not, in fact, a periodical, but a hub of information which any sentient being can access by the use of a very common terminal that is connected to it. Please give us your views regarding these developments, not least the fact that your audience and pool of eager contributors is much larger than you may have originally anticipated.
—-
"Banzai" Bill writes:
Dear Lord Blackwood,
I have recently come into the possession of a number of artefacts of the most unusual and diverse variety, and I have had some difficulty in operating one of them. Are you perchance familiar with a shoulder-mounted miniature-cannon/rifle designed to, in the words of the message found alongside it, "shoot Magnetism"?
And while I think of it, did you ever manage to discover how that magma rifle we found in '83 (I was the porter's son) automatically replenished its ammunition? The cache of aforementioned artifacts contained an identical device, and as there are now multiples, am willing to attempt disassembly of mine, but wished to inquire as to whether you have had any success with yours.
—-
Lady Gertrude E. Hamilton writes:
What the fuck is WRONG with you, Theo? I haven't seen you in weeks, you haven't replied to any of my telegrams - your servants say you're just going through some shit, but three weeks is long enough, man! Until now, I could never understand why the Duchess of Brabant said you were trash, and that I could do way better, but this whole experience has finally opened my fucking eyes! If you don't respond to this, we are THROUGH! And I MEAN it this time!
—-
Dr. Wire writes:
I was wondering if you have ever heard of an ancient city by the peculiar name of Audapaupadopolis? I ask because I have heard mentions of this legend and those related to it, and I thought to ask someone who specializes in this kind of stuff.