Password: Metastasize

Kurtz -

Trial = Adversity = Hardship. These were some of the Passwords we played last night at Mastermind's childhood home, where I had $10,000 in hand and lost it going for $25,000. Oh, what money that could have bought! Mastermind's slythery roomie was there, very goatish, of course. A highlight of the night came from these clues from May Green.......War...Big...Bullet. Can you guess what she was getting at?

The mood of levity spread over unspoken somberness. Mastermind metastasized malignantly. Location: liver. Treatment: Trial Tests. Unfavorable news indeed. As the Mrs. and I returned home, we felt a mixture of reverence, fear,  gratitude, and confidence. Mastermind is a human of strength and resourcefulness, and we are grateful to be close to her. Think kindly on her as well, Kurtz.

- Marlowe

Circles

Kurtz -

WE HAVE BEEN GOING IN CIRCLES! Disheartening words for any venture, yes, though it gives pause for this question: to find her, must we take a direct pursuit to overtake her, a shortcut, or shall we better progress by taking her same circuitous path, thereby risking an eternal journey, but taking the same experiences as she? Is she not the product of the feelings she had at all these past moments? To find her, are these experiences necessary? How else, whichever path we take, could we know when, if ever, she is truly found?

Our path fell to the circles. But quickly, a feeling of frustration was replaced by a feeling of kinship, as the city we walked seemed to bear proud testament to her, as surely as the mother of a son now grown. At her home especially, the feeling was strong, not of being watched (I know you were not there!), but of seeing as she saw and touching as she touched, the city was unlocked to us. We understood as you did, and a feeling of satisfaction warmed us.

We joined Mastermind and her kin to dine that night, somewhere interesting and new for me, though Mastermind had been before. While we dined, I felt for that same sense of understanding of you I felt before, though it eluded me here. Had you been here? Did you know it? Was I straying from the path? I tried to relax, a New trend for me. As I saw others around in fervent conversation, laughing and drinking and conversing so easily, I made a decision. Kurtz, I reach to you now, across a dining table years and miles across, to tempt you into a friendly confirmation. Is this the path? Have your eyes seen these?! Are they different now, having suffered your gaze?

Your descent into darkness. I wonder if your memories are as strong as the ones you left behind. A lasting image to send me on my way.

I will find you.

- Marlowe

Friday the Thirteenth

Kurtz-

On Friday last (the thirteenth, of course!), our night twisted to a terrifying end. The dread that would find us that night was an inky shadow, brought into sharp relief by the warm, cozy glow of friendship we enjoyed earlier that evening.

We began on a familiar path to annual festivities. We were eager to pay respects, to swap stories, confident in being graciously received despite our failing to secure the proper gift for the occasion:

Dancing ensued. The Evil Count of Walgrove Manor was notably absent, though the break-dancing Baron of the same was both present and lively. The Man of the Hour even shared with us a recipe of ancient and proud Danish tradition: an apple pie baked in a brown paper bag! Such pie has never been known by our company, nor will ever be surpassed!

The hour grew late. As we engaged felicity and made final farewells, a chill touched our skin. The mysteries began. A missing rabbit, straight from its hutch? An unknown glow? The peculiarities grew! A haunting air in our ears, and what's that on the ground?...nothing...no, the mind only, both active and devious...but further on, a name from the past, a memory. Baker? Bakersfield? No, Baskerville. And on the ground, clearly now, a suggestion, an imprint...a footprint! The imprint of an enormous hound!

Run! No, hide! Cower and breath softly, and wish upon wish that this too will pass! The peril did pass, but not the haunt, not the dreams, which pursue us still, baying in our sleeping ears.

- Marlowe

EMBARK

Kurtz,

To begin, I must say that after searching for you for so long at such great price, we were all overjoyed to find you right here that fateful morning. While your visit has not tempered my resolution to discover the man still unknown (his faceless visage consumes me!), I can't help but feel a nestled contentment when I reflect on the eggs benedict and tales we shared on that certain sidestreet. Thank you.

As promised, I have undertaken this field report to memorialize our adventurous sojourn and submit to you as follows:

Last night we paid a visit to the home of the Viceroy for the Royal Society of Science and the Hon. Chairman of the Mathematical and Statistical Sciences for the RSS. The purpose? To recreate a art-deco lego village, nay, a city (her words!), for their new lego train circuit. The city remains unfinished, unfounded really, as we were quickly sucked into the BBC production SHERLOCK

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00tffft.

That evening was my introduction to this awesome show and I highly recommend it to you, despite what controversy you may hear

http://www.independent.ie/entertainment/tv-radio/nudity-of-sherlock-dominatrix-before-9pm-watershed-shocks-bbc-viewers-2977743.html

But great as that show is, the crowning glory of the night was the viewing of the most excellent steampunk gift the Viceroy received from his Kiwi Brother: the Righteous Bison.

Details are hazy on the origins and specifications of this marvel, but it looks fantastic hanging in the place of honor in the Viceroy's home.

Still Searching,

Marlowe