Boromir

How's My Driving?

2009-05-24T00:35:59Z

How's My Driving(loosely adapted from similar posts around RP land):
Comment logged in or anon to criticize my portrayal of this character. Lurkers and game members both welcome. IP recording is off.

If something about my portrayal of the character bugs you, tell me about it. Maybe I have a reason for playing him this way; maybe I need to re-evaluate or put a little more effort into him.

Flames eye-rolled at and possibly summarily deleted.

Positive feedback is cool, too, but this is primarily a safe-space to bitch about my playing.

A gift - locked to Garak

2008-12-26T05:13:44Z

In this giving season, I have one gift more that I have not given.

If I could commissioned it from anyone else...

But such could not be. I make my way to find Garak.

boromir_hurin @ 2008-07-12T21:38:00

2008-07-13T04:38:53Z

You are Strength

Courage, strength, fortitude. Power not arrested in the act of judgement, but passing on to further action, sometimes obstinacy.

This is a card of courage and energy. It represents both the Lion's hot, roaring energy, and the Maiden's steadfast will. The innocent Maiden is unafraid, undaunted, and indomitable. In some cards she opens the lion's mouth, in others she shuts it. Either way, she proves that inner strength is more powerful than raw physical strength. That forces can be controlled and used to score a victory is very close to the message of the Chariot, which might be why, in some decks, it is Justice that is card 8 instead of Strength. With strength you can control not only the situation, but yourself. It is a card about anger and impulse management, about creative answers, leadership and maintaining one's personal honor. It can also stand for a steadfast friend.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Perhaps so.

A thread for swords

2007-08-12T20:27:54Z

I have spent this week making a pair of fine, hard practice swords, somewhat like my brother's. The wood is prepared to harden it against breaking, and the shape is simple. The balance is enough like a sword that I can train Shasta with it.

I go early to the stables, before work, there to meet Shasta.

[Backdated to Wednesday 8-7]

Different ways.

2007-02-18T19:22:31Z

[Based on chatlog with the mun of Faramir, the night after Boromir fought with Calum at the stables.]

My brother had looked at me, calm, and I could not read his face. I had not the patience to; I was angry.

"Did you fight?" he asked me.

I sat on my bed, pulling my work gloves from one hand to another. "I did not strike him, nor he me. There were only angry words, and then a silence."

"What did you say?"

"That it was shameful. That there was no excuse for it. That in Gondor, he would take five stripes, if he were in the army."

"In Gondor. Yes. It is not against the law everywhere."

"It is disgusting," I said angrily, throwing my gloves to the bedside table.

Faramir was yet calm, regarding me patiently. "No matter how disgusting, we do not have the right to dictate others' lives. Their ways are different. They cannot say we are wrong but we cannot say they are wrong either."

I growled and stood, beginning to pace. It was not the reaction I had expected.

Faramir sighed. "You must work together. You must deal with him."

"Oh, certainly. I will work and not speak to him."

Faramir was nearly frowning. "Does it really make such a difference? As long as you don't speak on that one thing, surely you can get along as you once did?"

I sounded childish and I knew it even then, muttering. "I liked him. I thought him a friend."

"You can still like him. You could still be his friend." Faramir said it with an edge of hardness. I did not press him-- not wonder why he should sound so firm about it.

"But he's one of them."

"Yes. Don't speak about it. We consider it disgusting-- remember that others find our ways of fighting disgusting. Our laws wrong. They are not wrong, they are our laws. But we must accept their ways, too-"

I started to protest, angry, and he silenced me, hand held out. "Not for our own. I mean that their ways are different. And we must understand that they will be different. That is all."

"It is not the same," I muttered, so low that my brother did not hear. He was looking away, jaw set, his eyes distant as if in thought.

I stared at the wall, angry. More angry because I knew what I had to do-- that I must swallow my pride, apologize to Calum. I did not want to.

After a while he spoke again.

"Can you yet work with the man?"

"Yes," I said shortly.

"Then I suppose it will work out in time."

"I had wanted him to meet you," I said, scowling. Had wanted to before I knew what he was.

"I could meet him yet."

The last one you befriended touched you when you did not want to be touched. Would have had you, then would have had you raped. Animal. I would not trust him near you...

"He has this man he loves well, you said so yourself. He would do nothing," Faramir said sharply, as if he knew my thought.

"The ones on the island were no better than animals. They mistreated you. How am I to trust these two?"

"They are different people, Boromir."

"Did you meet any of that kind on the island that did not treat you like a barbarian? Who respected you?"

Faramir nearly looked angry, then, standing. "Use your brain, Boromir. Calum wasn't there and you liked him well enough before you knew. And not everyone treated me so foully."

He surprises me then. We talked of the island, a painful subject yet for us both-- for him that he was left there, for me that I left him there. One of his friends-- Severus, that one. Did I mishear, or was Severus also a lover of men? But the talk turns quickly from it, to a dream of a child named Colin Dixon. The child of a lost friend--healthy, at least.

I was then ashamed. "Then... that it is healthy is something." I had been fighting and his dreams plague him yet. I have not been giving him enough of my time, even as if we were at home. "I am sorry I have been busy. I made fishing poles, you saw-- I meant for us to go earlier."

"It's all right. It isn't important." He looked me in the eye. "Boromir, you should apologize to Calum."

I turned my face away.

"You need not say that how you are is wrong. Merely that our ways are different, and you will respect it. His admission startled you but you will try to understand that his ways are not yours and respect them. Boromir, look at me." I did. "Can you do that?"

"Yes," I muttered.

Faramir smiled, gently. "It is different, Boromir. People here have not mocked us, or our ways. We can be who and what we are, but must understand that others have that right also."

"No." I admitted, grudgingly. "They have not mocked us."

"If he had asked you to change, that would be different-- but he did not, and so should you not ask it of him. Simply do not think of it. Do not speak of it. And you can think he is a good man again."

I sighed. "And if he does not take the apology?"

"He may not. But you can offer it. And he can still be a good man."

Tired, I sat down again, and Faramir, too, each on our own beds. There I leaned forward, shutting my eyes-- I needed sleep, badly.

"There is no reason you cannot still speak," Faramir went on, quietly. "Apologize, and he may accept, and you can work and may yet be friends in time. There is no reason why not."

"It rubs me wrong." I frowned, opening my eyes. "I will, just the same." They are not our ways, not the ways of Gondor. This is not Gondor, not even Middle Earth."

Faramir nodded, pressing further. Repeating: "It's not right for us, but we cannot tell others what to do here."

"No." We cannot. I only wished we could. That the world was a comfortable place that we understood again. That I understood.

I had thought-- angry, for a moment I had thought as he tried to counsel me, this is the counsel of Faramir, who loves the elves better than men, who keeps friends of wizards. For surely, their ways seem finer to him then our own, and he would turn from men as Aragorn had turned from men for so many years. Our ways are nothing to him- and then anger had faded, and I had realized whose voice that had been- Denethor's own voice. And I was deeply ashamed.

My brother is our pride, is the grace of Gondor, and he would not abandon our ways. He tried to counsel me in wisdom, where I acted in anger. And very much like a child I sneered at the one who knew better and would have corrected me.

I think that Faramir saw it in me, saw the anger and that petty thought. For he looked quiet and unsettled, and went to the water shower for a very long time. I heard him, as I drifted into sleep.

I will make it right with him. I will apologize to Calum, and spend more time with my little brother, who is so often a wiser man than me.

In my dreams I heard my father's voice. Speak not to me of Faramir. I know his uses, of which there are few.

You are wrong, father. You were wrong to send me away, and you will understand in time the true quality of your second son. He of all things in this village is a constant, a man who will not fail.

I said it in my dream and slept again, without dreaming.

boromir_hurin @ 2007-02-07T19:40:00

2007-02-08T00:43:07Z

The work at the stables suits me thus far. It causes aches, and I feel callouses where hands used to a sword now rasp on shovel or pitchfork.

But it is quiet work, outside the town and away from its strange electric devices. The horses center me, and make me feel less at a loss.

Having met Xena-- having spoken to her-- I have had reason to think again on the parting. Faramir's and mine. Not even a moment's peace, then, for Father came to send me away. Strange... how in that moment when he seemed the surest, the strongest, as he told me to seize the ring... strange how he was then the weakest.

I never told Faramir goodbye.

It comes to me again, as solid as a blow. I cannot waste this time we have. Not a moment of it. All of it is more than I ever looked for.

I have scrubbed and bathed under the hot, strange shower until the smell is mostly off me- the clothes are tied in a bag until they are washed. I put on my own good things, then, and wait for my brother to come home.

boromir_hurin @ 2007-01-12T21:45:00

2007-01-13T05:53:20Z

Miss Neveu says that the room I have in the hotel is Faramir's room, too. I am relieved.

He has only been here a few days. Things will be well-- we had the gap of years, a few days between his arrival and mine are nothing at all. And I had been worried, I admit.

But all will be well, I know that. I take my leisure to explore the small room-- not as fine as my brother's home on the island, but still clean and warm. Warm air comes up from a grating, and I do not know how, but it is nearly as good as a fireplace.

This has not shaken me as the island did-- because I am prepared. And I know this time that my brother is not dead. It nearly broke my heart, before I understood.

But all is well.

Voicemail

2007-01-10T07:18:01Z

I cannot hear you, but I am told you can hear this message. I am not here; please, leave your message after the sound. I will find you in the village.