cthulhu_ficcer: (In Profile)
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Out Of Character
Name: Ref
Age: 38
Personal Journal: [personal profile] matrixrefugee
Contact: E-mail: morraeonmarrithsdattir@gmail.com/Plurk: matrixrefugee


In Character
Name:
Howard P. Lovecraft
Canon: Necronomicon: Book of the Dead
Canon Point: After the events of the movie
Sex/Gender: Male
Actual Age/Apparent Age: 42 (looks a bit younger than that)

Belongings: He'll be arriving armed with a swordstick and with the clothes on his back, a notepad, a cartridge-type fountain pen, and a membership card from the Providence, Rhode Island Athenaeum (sort of like a library cum club room) bearing his name, also one dollar and eighty-nine cents in late 1920s coins. Sorry, folks, but the Necronomicon he stole is going to get lost while he's falling into the library. Maybe the Elder Gods or the Old Ones had that in mind....

Skills and Powers: None. Plain vanilla mortal

Bookmark Description:
Our gent's bookmark resembles a small

History and Personality:
Born in the city of Providence, Rhode Island in the late 1800s, young Howard lived a sequestered and unsettled childhood. His father died in an insane asylum, driven mad by things he had stumbled upon by accident while the boy was a youngster, and his overprotective mother kept him close to her, attempting to shield him from the dark things in the world, her own sanity gradually unraveling as well. His grandfather Whipple let the young lad loose in the family library, and among the books of creepy stories shelved alongside the classics of literature, young Howard found fleeting references to a mysterious book containing dark secrets and hidden lore regarding dark things from within and beyond the known universe, the Necronomicon penned by the Mad Arab, Abdul Al-Hazared. During his brief years in high school, following his grandfather's death and a shift in the family fortune, his fixation on dark things and on the science that might explain their nature, and his fascination with science and astronomy in particular made him somewhat of an outlier among his classmate (if it were a modern high school, he'd have been one of the geeks).

Seeking a complete copy of the Necronomicon became something of a quest for him as an older teen and into adulthood, in between the more pressing matter of developing his craft as a writer of weird fiction and cultivating his written correspondence with a growing circle of amateur and semi-professional writers in the same field. Somewhere along the line, he's Taken a Level in Badass and learned to use a swordcane to defend himself (Robert E. Howard had a hand in that after Howie-Phil was mugged one time too many whilst living in a less than pleasant part of Brooklyn). His fixation on finding the Necromicon became so intense that it wound up as the final strain on his awkward and brief marriage to Sonia Green, a fellow author of weird fiction who had pursued him romantically and managed somehow to win his cool but conscientious affections. He continued to write and seek his unholy prize, but as the Roaring Twenties collapsed into the Great Depression, he soon found the periods of creative dryness that plagued him as a journeyman writer had started to occur again, not a healthy situation since he relied entirely on his writing to support himself.

And then the events of the movie happen.... The keepers of the Necronomicon warn him that he'll pay for his theft and for unwittingly unsealing an extra-dimensional portal: his troubles may have just gotten worse...

Look up "introverted" in an encyclopedia, and you'll likely find a picture of this jut-jawed fellow looking back at you. He'd be the first to admit he's most likely to be found with his nose in a book or crouched over a typewriter clacking out his latest creation, but he knows he can't let his comfort zone become an ivory tower. His straightened fortunes and his shaky financial status as writer have taught him to do without and to subsist on as little as possible: he's the type to live on ramen so he could afford books and typing paper. He's paranoid in a cautious way: his sequestered upbringing as well as his own high strung nature have left him a little less than well-equipped to navigate a fast-paced and, in his day, rapidly-changing modern world. Also, he's learned firsthand that there are things in the universe that don't care much for humans and would willingly wipe them out as casually as a human would brush aside an anthill. The world at hand and the cosmos beyond are full of horrors knowable and unknowable, and he has a keen awareness to this, to man's very tiny place in the universe. This has even colored his views of good and evil: in his mind, there's more shades of grey to morality than clearly defined right and wrong. And for all his well-placed fear, he still has a semblance of hope: there's plenty in the universe for us to discover and learn about, and that curiosity keeps him from giving in to despair. He can also seem abrasive at times (albeit in a genteel way) and is a bit lacking in a brain to mouth filter, as well as using five dollar words when a two dollar one will do: chalk that up to his sequestered childhood as well as reading a lot of eighteenth and early nineteenth century literature.

For all his nihilism, he still has a sense of humor, albeit one as dry as dust; he's given on occasion to trolling people or snarking about things in a way that makes it very hard to tell if he's serious or joking, or a blend of the two. This extends to himself and his own writing, in a self-deprecating way: he's penned a few subtle self-parodies and isn't above the odd clever prank when the notion presents itself. He also possesses a sense of wonder, albeit one that's taken on a certain coldness: gazing up at the stars, wondering what's in the vast expanses of space will cool ones blood.

It might take a little while for him to warm up to a person and he can seem a bit stand-offish as a result, but when a friendship starts to develop, he reveals himself as a loyal, devoted companion and a good listener, someone who might deeply disagree with ones opinions and be critical on some points, but who won't let that get in the way of a good friendship or tarnish the things they can agree on. His friends tend to become the family that he's gradually lost over time, and while for all his wordsmithing, he might have a hard time articulating it, the feelings of fondness and attachment are there.

Samples

Remember, we are looking most specifically at your writing samples. Put your best into it! If you tried our test drive meme, you may link the thread to the style it fits below.

First Person/Action brackets:

He finds a fanboy...fanskull...fanthing

Third Person/Prose:
Attack of the Nonfiction Vine

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Howard P. Lovecraft

June 2016

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