so_dark_a_road: (#211 -- ^^^^)
This is Curufin. I'm probably drunk or killing somebody, but please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.

(Ha ha. I'm kidding. But do leave me a message! XD)

Voice | Text | Video | Telepathy

Oh Absalom

Jun. 10th, 2015 02:33 am
so_dark_a_road: (a vision of war)
[ On his way down the hillside, down into the valley where there must be a path or a road, or at least a stream he can follow. Valley pathways always lead somewhere. That is, if to be somewhere is what he wants. He is still not sure about that. Maybe what he really wants is to be nowhere. But he is a strong, determined man, and he forges on, by instinct if not by reason. He halts suddenly, struck by knowledge, like a whisper out of the night. ]

My son is still alive. I know it.

[ He doesn't expect ever to meet him again, however, not in life or death. Their paths are severed. And that was the case long before Curufin and his brothers attacked Doriath, trying to wrest the one available Silmaril from Luthien's son, Dior. But now a weight is lifted from his shoulders, and he can go on knowing that at least, somewhere under moon or stars or sun, Celebrimbor follows his own destiny. He almost smiles. ]
so_dark_a_road: (Star of Earendil)
[ Leaves blow softly. He climbs to a hilltop. There is a circle of pines here, and he leans against one. He looks out over a forested valley. The sun gleams on the pine needles except where there is shade, and a blue sky arches over the far side of the valley. Time goes by, and the sun slips down behind the ridge. So silent is this place that he thinks he must be the last sentient being in all the world. Yet, it is peaceful. Peace is not something he much understands...and yet it is strangely welcome. ]

[ He looks westward and sucks a breath in sharply. His dark gray eyes widen as he steps out from under the trees to see if he really saw what he thinks he saw. What he sees is the planet Venus. (Or, in his world, Earendil's ship Vingilot, bearing the white flame of one of Feanor's jewels.) ]

Surely that is a Silmaril? [ He is seeing what his brothers Maedhros and Maglor saw on the eve of the War of Wrath, not long before Maedhros' death and at some unspecified interval before Maglor's. But he doesn't know about that; it happened after his own time had come. ]

Then... [ He means: That one, at least, is safe from me and my brothers. ]
so_dark_a_road: (under cloud and sky #2)
[He finds himself lying face up on fallen leaves and other forest-floor debris, under the trees of summer. Strange, considering he met his death in the dead of winter. He gets up slowly, gazing all around.]

...Where is this place?

[He turns around and starts to walk, stumbles, halts again.]

This is not Menegroth. [He would know.]

Why am I even here? I failed to recover the Simarils. Should not the Dark have claimed me? Or if not that -- if instead by some miracle I am released from my oath -- then am I now trapped forever in the Halls of Mandos?

[Increasing distress.]

...I'll walk. I'll find somebody. Someone will know where we are. Someone will know what has happened to my brothers.
so_dark_a_road: (under cloud and sky)
The Elvish songs and epics of the First Age tend to view identity as more collective than individual. Hence, Curufin's history is the history of his family, and it contains only a few brief stories that are about him personally. But such as it is, here it is. NOTE: THIS POST IS STILL UNDER CONSTRUCTION.

Under the cold stars before the rising of the Moon )


Jun. 7th, 2015 04:13 pm
so_dark_a_road: (sit not idle in grief)
If you have a problem, a concern, or an issue with me or my character, I am always willing to communicate. (See the contact post. Do not post here -- this is not an HMD post.) I am a good listener, and I will not judge you for your thoughts or feelings.

Be specific. Tell me what I or my character said or did that was a problem for you or your character. How exactly did this affect you or your character?

Note: If you are trying to get me to change my basic characterization, I will certainly listen to what you have to say, but my decision on these matters is mine alone. I have known many players who were into collaborative characterization. That's fine, it is their style -- but it is not mine.

However, I am always up for collaborative PLOTTING! If you have an idea, contact me at this journal, and I will be happy to accommodate you.
so_dark_a_road: (under cloud and sky #2)
For now, PM me at this journal. I log on every day to check my message box even if I'm not expecting any tags.

And also, my Plurk name is [ profile] tangyminx. If we are playing in the same game, feel free to add me. Otherwise, plurk me or PM me and ask first. Thanks!


so_dark_a_road: (Default)
Curufin, son of FĂ«anor

The Vow We Spoke in Our Madness

Then Feanor swore a terrible oath. His seven sons leapt straightway to his side and took the selfsame vow together, and red as blood shown their drawn swords in the glare of the torches. They swore an oath that none shall break, and none should take, by the name even of Iluvatar, calling the Everlasting Dark upon them if they kept it not...vowing to pursue with vengeance and hatred to the ends of the World Vala, Demon, Elf or Man as yet unborn, or any creature great or small, good or evil, that time should bring forth unto the end of days, whoso should hold or take or keep a Silmaril from their possession. -- "Of the Flight of the Noldor," The Silmarillion

"We will never turn back from pursuit. After Morgoth to the ends of the Earth! War shall he have and hatred undying. But when we have conquered and regained the Silmiarils, then we and we alone shall be lords of the unsullied Light, and masters of the beauty and bliss of Arda." -- Feanor's words

Thus spoke Maedhros and Maglor and Celegorm, Curufin and Caranthir, Amrod and Amras, princes of the Noldor; and many quailed to hear the dread words. For so sworn, good or evil, an oath may not be broken, and it shall pursue oathkeeper and oathbreaker to the World's end. -- "Of the Flight of the Nolder," The Silmarillion