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Thirst doesn't have a curfew

#promoing a BAE #i love these things fight me #winsterhand

[ winsterhand ]

"It has been long since I've laid eyes upon you or any one of your kin."

winsterhand liked for a starter

He craned his neck, staring up at the elf with wide eyes. Never before had he met someone, be it Man or Elf, so tall. It was startling, really, and not a sight he expected to see within the darkened wood, this broad-shouldered hulking elf with hair like flames.

"—You are very tall. I think you— might be lost."

#winsterhand

"YOU MUST TRUST ME BECAUSE IF YOU DON'T, THERE ARE OTHER WAYS."

Once Upon a Time sentence starters

"Do not yell at me!" Curufinwë snapped. He scowled at his eldest brother, sparing a moment for a vain wish that giving him a few violent shakes would shake the irrationality straight out of him. No. I will have to talk him out of it, if I am to convince him at all. Reasonably. Softly would he have to speak, as to a frightened, wounded, lost and hopeless animal.

Was that not what he was, what they all were? They were frightened, of course. They had lost much, and swiftly, and the evil of Moringotho spread like a black cloud, an approaching storm, a persistent virus determined to infect them all and kill them off one by one, deaths dealt in the depths of shadows enduring.

And they were wounded. Their leader had been taken from them, his life stolen like his life’s work. Their father had been murdered, while naught but physical distance separated them from helping him, just as had his father before him. His hands prickled with pain still fresh in his mind. Those scars would be long in healing.

They were lost. They had followed the fire in the darkness, but now that light was gone, and they floundered in shadow. They had purpose, but knew not how to achieve it. They had direction, but could see it not. They had ideas, but each was less feasible than the last.

Was this what it was to be hopeless? But Maitimo had hope. Maitimo had enough hope to stake his life on this gamble. A gamble it was — and Curufinwë hated gambling. It is not gambling, after all, if one knows one will win. But this — this is true risk.

"I understand you’re desperate and, by the darkness, I understand your pain." His words he murmured almost to himself more than to his brother, but his eyes were clear and his gaze sharp. "But, hánonya, you are our leader now. Meet treachery with treachery, you say, and on any other day I would stand by you on that — but in the privacy of brotherly counsel, Maitimo, I counsel caution. We have already underestimated our enemy once.”

#winsterhand #answered #v: main #[accidentally writes twice a normal amount]#[also I realized after I had already finished #that this doesn't actually make much sense in response to the sentence starter]#[but the scene just kind of came to me and then I couldn't come up with anything different]

winsterhand:

[from here]

A disquieted chuckle tumbled up from the redhead’s chest as he shook his head in wide sweeps.

"Oh, that you claim, Curvo, yet all beings have their limits. I know there are acts you will not do, and there are acts you cannot do.”

As he crossed both arms over his broad torso. His brows tensed and his lips pulled as if he was chiding his younger brother. How could he, as his elder and protector, stand by while Curvo thought of himself as an unstoppable monster? 

——Even if that was exactly what he thought of himself.

"Is that an affirmation of your belief in my hidden chance at redemption or a subversion of my willpower? Y e s, Nelyo, perhaps there are some things I would not do -- but they are precious few in number. Don't shake your head so; I know where my priorities lie, hánonya."

He had hardened his heart early on, when they had first marched. Now, there were too many losses to avenge, too much pain to numb with fire and blood, too high of stakes, to harbor reservations.

#winsterhand #v: main #[hope you don't mind I responded to this]