[open] mama we all go to hell

[mostcraftiest]

Curufin is not at his best right now. Of course, he has not really been at his best since arriving here, in one way or another, but just the same. Since being driven back inside (as he thinks of it) by Caranthir, he's locked himself in his room and pretty much hasn't stopped pacing.

And it's not just restlessness and pent up energy, either; he

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[elven_irs]

Caranthir said he would be a shadow to his brother - and he's keeping his word. When there was no movement in or out of the room, he wandered over, pressed his forehead to Curufin's door.

And knocked, just to be sure he didn't fall on his sword, or something.

"Hey."

[mostcraftiest]

Here, have more silence. For a few moments. Curufin is sorely tempted to hold his peace and see what Caranthir will do. Probably break his door. He stands, sheathes the knife, and opens the door, just enough to see Caranthir's face. "I thought you weren't going to be lurking."

[elven_irs]

Cue his foot literally being stuck in the door."Ah, you're in one piece. Good thing, that. I was getting worried."

[mostcraftiest]

Oh, goddamn. "Take it out or I will break it," flatly. "Yes, I am. That shouldn't be surprising. And you still said you weren't going to be lurking, which, I might add, is precisely what you are doing. As you have allayed your suspicions that I intend some kind of-" sneer, "Self harm, I think you can find some other way to entertain yourself."

[elven_irs]

"Oh, come on Kurvo - you can't stay locked in forever..."

[mostcraftiest]

Watch me, he is tempted to say. I can do whatever I want to. But that would be childish, and he will not be childish. "No, I cannot. Well observed. However, you may also observe, if you are honing those powers, that a few days - even a week! Is hardly approaching forever. I don't think you truly need to worry until it approaches six months."

Something in his tone is just a little scathing, but Caranthir is no doubt immune to it.

[elven_irs]

"Well then," he says slowly. "I reckon I'll be here a while. Very well."

Typist willing, he'll push the door open and force himself in.

[mostcraftiest]

Typist is willing, though Curufin is not, and he attempts to shove back, but not quick enough - or, likely, not strong enough. Which stings him a little more. "--may I remind you that this is my room," tightly, "And you have no right to be here without my permission?"

The windows are closed, curtains drawn, the air more than a little thick and stuffy. Attempts at amusing himself with books and papers have been cast aside in various places. In short, it's in uncharacteristically bad order.

[elven_irs]

Caranthir frowns, looks at the room. "Well, neither are the dust bunnies, Eru brother --" he wanders over to the window. "Air. Sunshine. You need those to be better."

[mostcraftiest]

"And what makes you think I'm not - oh, never mind. I shouldn't try to separate a madman and his delusions. Get away from my window." And attempting to move to block him off, yes, because that's my stuff and you're in my room and myyyyy and yes, Curufin is kind of a six year old sometimes. Mostly only when things are really going badly.

"I find it entertaining that you think you are somehow the cure for my apparent lack of mental health."

[elven_irs]

"Not me, Kurvo, Eru, you know I'm not a healer. But I'll do what I can to show you I care. That's all I can think to do."

[mostcraftiest]

"Oh yes, because I'm so grateful for it," Yes, a little snapped. "I know what you are not, yes, so it baffles me why - never mind. Don't think to do anything. Don't you think you've managed more than enough?"

There's a touch of bitterness in the undercurrent of his voice, but only a touch; mostly it's scathing, sharp, accusatory.

[elven_irs]

"I'm not managing anything," he replies, and he will go and open that window, unless Curufin interferes bodily. "In fact, I feel that I have rather failed you in my brotherly duties."

By contrast, Caranthir's tone is unusually calm. He promised himself he would take care of a brother. And he will, or so Eru help him, he'll give up the sword.

[mostcraftiest]

He doesn't, probably only because he knows he'll lose sooner or later. Stays where he is, instead, and tries not to squint too much for the influx of light, even if it makes his eyes ache. "Who are you doing this for?" He asks, voice still taut. "For me, or for you? I'm not going to be your - case, Carnistir, if you are somehow feeling guilty or negligent. Find someone else to appease your maternal instinct."

[elven_irs]

"Of course you're not going to be my case, Kurvo. You're nobody's case, because you're not a case. Of course I'm doing this for you." The window is open, then, and he keeps it wide open so that the air will start circulating again.

"And you look like hell. Go take a shower. We're going out."

[mostcraftiest]

"May I remind you that you were the one who dragged me inside in the first place? And now you insist on my going out. Are my movements completely under your control, now? I am not incapable of deciding for myself where I would like to go." Stubborn, still, and staying a safe distance from Cara so he can't be bodily dragged into anything.

And he is somewhat unconvinced by the response.