#galefcrce

[apalestar]

@galefcrce from here

The fact Astarion wore them was a simple matter of seeing how flustered Gale would become over them. Truth be told the glasses made his eyesight worse. Perhaps the rogue had a bit of kleptomania as well. Astarion certainly wasn't going to psychoanalyze himself.

"Asking takes all the fun out of it." But this trinket wasn't one he was willing to fight over. "You know— a man can get the wrong idea if you come visit him in the middle of the evening at his bed."

He made an intentional long blink of his eyelids knowing exactly how the look appealed to others. He slid the frames off with a single hand. "Come take if you'd like." He didn't extend his arm out to aid Gale in their retrieval. The work fell on the wizard to close the distance.

[never-surrender]

@galefcrce cont:

"Trust me, Darling, it is absolutely necessary," Gale could pout all he wanted, but Astarion wasn't going to let the other wander around looking as disheveled as he was now. It was downright a crime to do so, and in some ways he did care for Gale...

This was his way of showing as such.

Why the man had left alone to go and do battle with somebody, Astarion couldn't for the life of him figure out. All he knew was it had the others quite worried for him ... while Astarion? Well ... he felt something akin to pride in the other for doing what needed to be done. He didn't think Gale had it in him, quite frankly.

"I assure you, if I need help because I decided to be a dirty little renegade and get my hands broken, I will let you be the first to do my hair for me," he can't help but tease Gale, fingers gliding through the man's longer locks, his actions are methodic if not downright sinfully pleasurable as he works Gale's hair into something more manageable...

And once he's done, he steps back, humming in content, "There. Much better, Darling."

[bloodyarn]

They all want to know their reputation.

You guys will be the death of me.

@undyingmedium @deaddoveadventures @galefcrce @windwithinmyveins

[chaoticbard]

Alaara sat with her back against a strong oak tree nestled next to her spot in camp, her head bent low over her journal as she stared at it. How many days had it been since she'd been infected by an illithid tadpole? How many days had it been since finding her companions? Surely the number she had ticked onto the cover page was wrong. A few weeks' time didn't seem long enough for many reasons, but it was truth regardless. She'd been meticulous in logging each and every night she survived. Alaara huffed and flipped the journal open to a set of blank pages. She needed to focus her mind on anything else but the ever-growing list of things that needed doing. She needed to take notes, she needed to write. She needed to compose.

If anything was her sanctuary, writing was it. Music, stories, it didn't matter which. Tonight, music felt appropriate. Melancholic notes flitted here and there in her mind and she threw them onto hastily-drawn bars as they came to her. But what she really needed were lyrics to put the stray notes to. A bard's song without lyrics held power aplenty, but one with them felt significantly more so, at least to her. A song with lyrics could be emotionally charged twice over, instrument and voice melding as partners, both yearning to get a message out to anyone willing to listen.

Something or someone would need to trigger the beginning of that melding. What that something was had yet to reveal itself, and so it was that Alaara looked up from her journal and watched and waited for it. As she did so, she jotted little notes here and there about her companions. Such tidbits could be returned to at a later date and woven into the fabric of her creations.

She first caught sight of Lae'zel arm wrestling with Karlach, her expression grim. Into her notebook went a little note about that. She then took notes about Wyll, who was telling a tale about his heroics as the Blade of Frontiers. Shadowheart, Astarion, and Halsin were all paying attention, but even from where she sat, Alaara could tell Astarion was smirking to himself, biting his tongue to keep from saying too many sassy remarks and halting the story's progress. Shadowheart's smile, Halsin's rapt attention, and Astarion's cheekiness were all documented. And Gale of Waterdeep. What was he doing during all of this? He was-

Alaara looked around. Where was Gale? His tent seemed vacant, he wasn't standing over the cook pot, and he certainly wasn't with the rest of the party. Maybe he was off doing secret wizard stuff in another dimension? Was that a thing wizards really did? Tavern patrons were hardly paragons of information when it came to, well, anything but food and drink, but their mutterings about wizards were all she had to go on. That, and the scant few fact books she'd come across in the realms. Volo had written a rather colorful account of wizards, but he was well known to over-embellish and change facts to better suit his narrative. Such had only been staunchly affirmed when she'd met him in the grove writing blatant falsehoods about a bear of all creatures.

She looked back down at her journal. If only Gale was around, she could spend the rest of the evening picking his brain. He could tell her all about himself and other wizards. What he told her would be truths too, not just tall tales and outright lies. He could tell her about lots of other things too if he wasn't being a braggart. Given his collection of tomes he refused to travel without, she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

As she sat and thought so very hard to herself, she left a sea of black dots on her journal's pages without actively realizing it. So engrossed was she that she didn't realize she was no longer alone...

@galefcrce

[spawnmade]

@galefcrce sent

Was Gale drunk? Undoubtedly so. He could barely stand, his body swaying with the rhythm of a man long past his limit. Every few words that spilled from his mouth were punctuated with a hiccup, his usually sharp mind now foggy with alcohol. He had stumbled upon a delightful stash of wine in the cellars of the Last Light Inn and, for reasons best left to inebriated impulse, decided to drink his feelings away.

Now, teetering on the edge of being blackout drunk and an absolute mess, his glassy eyes landed on Astarion. Recognition sparked, and with a dramatic, almost accusatory sway, he lifted a finger toward the vampire.

"You!" Gale slurred, his finger wobbling in the air as he tried, and failed, to take a steady step forward. "You big, dirty-rotten, fantastic, sexy, lousy, good-for-nothing... bumsqueak."

He can smell the booze on Gale long before he approaches him. Not only because of his vampiric senses but because Gale is positively drunk. A state he does not see Gale in often so he wonders if there is cause for concern.

He pushes that thought away. Gale is a grown man, if he wishes to drink himself into oblivion, so be it. As long as he doesn't get Astarion killed in the process because he's too drunk to fight or cast a spell, the vampire doesn't really care.

He has been called many things in his life, many of the words that Gale has called him. Particularly 'lousy' and 'good-for-nothing' are things that Cazador has called him and it takes everything in Astarion not to flinch.

He'll focus on the other words, sexy and fantastic have a nice ring to them. Big is no something he's been called considering his short height and lithe body so it amuses him. Bumsqueak is a new one that almost makes Astarion laugh, he swallows the laughter back instead.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, Gale? What did I do to earn such a creative string of words?"

[championsofthegate]

@galefcrce asked: "This should be a wonderful opportunity for the two of us to get to know one another!" (to Elysia)

Elysia blinked, tilting her head at Gale. The tiefling party was well underway, and aince she'd already spoken to everyone, she had circled back around to Gale. He had seemed... lonely, earlier. She thought he was missing Tara, and while she was certain she couldn't fill the void of his lovely tressym, she could certainly be a friend.

"Oh? What part of being tadpoled and stuck in the wilderness hasn't been a wonderful opportunity to get to know each other?" she asked teasingly. "What more could you possibly want, Gale?"

[spiderwarden]

“ It’s always Minthara, don’t attack the grove! And never Druids, don’t feed the Tieflings to the attackers they’re not meat shields. Tsk. ��

[bearlydruid]

“Do you think I could be saved?”

Halsin leaned back on his arm, the sound he makes a curious one. One leg extended out in front of him, the other was bent with his other arm propped on it.

"You think you need to be saved?" Halsin asked curiously. "Tell me exactly why you think you need to be saved." Halsin didn't think that Gale needed saving - Gale was perfectly capable of saving himself, but it certainly didn't mean that Gale would be alone.

"Because what I see is someone who is striving to do all they can not only for their own benefit, but, the benefit of the world itself. That seems to me like someone who is doing the saving, Gale."

[bloodedhearts]

✏️ (I can't remember if I sent one in already!)

Even More Incorrect Quotes Generator | Accepting | @galefcrce

Gale: I don’t even have time to tell you how wrong you are. Shadowheart: Okay? Gale: … Gale: … Gale: Actually it’s gonna bug me if I don’t, so—

Gale: *is visibly upset* Shadowheart: Gale, what happened? I haven't seen you like this since you found out candyland wasn't an actual country.

Gale, to Astarion: If you can ever manage to get over yourself, I would highly recommend being me.

Astarion: I committed all 7 deadly sins in 30 minutes. Gale: Wow, I've gotta hear this. Astarion: I was angry and envious of my neighbor so I lazily seduced his wife and ate all his groceries and didn't share. Gale: You forgot pride. Astarion: No, I'm pretty proud of this.

Gale: Do we have any orange juice left? Cassandra: *pours the remaining juice into their cup* Cassandra: Sorry, we’re all out.

Cassandra: I haven’t lost my virginity. Gale: Because you have no friends? Cassandra: No... because I never lose!

[whomuses]

@galefcrce plotted! It was hard for them to find a night of comfort amongst all of the hard realities of travel on the roads. Of course, everyone there had their own hells to deal with - and that was before you even came upon the idea of the tadpole, the thing that bound them all together. But Caedes, for all the way the rest of the ragtag tadpoled group had come together, was keeping himself… distant. This wasn't unusual - since the beginning, with his headaches and lost, mangled memory, Caedes had been more than willing to hang back. But things had been getting worse...

After Alfira, the dragonborn had barely existed when they were at camp. A few polite words, a sip or two of water, and then they would disappear off to their own tent. For a while, they had allowed himself to come back to the circle - once the heat had died down, some would say. But then the nightmares had gotten worse, and the pain, and the blood in his throat, and then... the hallucinations. No, it was too dangerous to be around them. Occasionally taking a bowl of whatever had been cooked, they would often not appear until well after the fires were banked, languidly walking around the quiet camp and clearing up, tidying away any mess that had been left over, sorting and cleaning. It was something to occupy his mind whilst waiting for the dawn to come…

The result, of course, was an utterly exhausted sorcerer. So when Gale had gone back to his tent tonight, they had hesitated, before gently peeling aside the flap and stepping in - not sure if the wizard was going to be willing to spend time with him. For all the murder and blood that covered his claws, tonight, they were … slow. Soft. Quiet. Not saying a word as he stepped in, slumping down heavily onto the bedroll, and laying their head onto Gale's shoulder. A low, deep sigh escaped their chest, eyes shutting almost immediately. Gale was warm, and that slightly spicy magic smell still hung about him, and Caedes hadn't realised just how much they were missing this kind of contact. With their ongoing torturous existence, he had felt like nothing more than a monster. Right now… right now they felt calm. And so very tired.

[savingthrcw]

moved to its own post from here @galefcrce

❛ can’t sleep? ❜ from my Lex! @savingthrcw ¦ 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

Sleep and Gale were not always the most harmonious companions, especially when the ceaseless worry of the orb and tadpole persisted in his mind. Rest, an intangible consideration in such trying times. Yet, Gale found a small refuge in the canvas of the sky above. Gale sat out near the burning embers of the campfire, face cast upwards as he traced the constellations in his mind. The stars above momentarily transported his thoughts to the Astral plane.

Yet, a voice brought him back to Faerûn. The words didn't instantly register, but the comforting voice of an ally kept him at ease. A slow, gradual lowering of his head tore his gaze from the stars above to Lex.

"I would have thought myself alone in such sentiments, yet you've proven me wrong," he offered a warm smile, a finger gesturing upward. "Though, I suppose the stars above provide adequate company too."

After a lifetime of loneliness, Lex had no idea of how to deal with the fact that suddenly she felt responsible and, worse, worried, about multiple people at the same time, who for no reason whatsoever had ended up following her lead most of the time. Weren't people like her supposed to become aggressive and wish ill fates on others? And yet there she was, worrying. And there she was, living what was supposed to be a nightmare, and yet deep down knowing that she wasn't hating it simply because she had people now. For a little. Didn't matter if they didn't feel the same, only that she had felt a part of something.

So, seeing that Gale was still awake, she had decided to check on him, because he was one of the people she worried for the most. He and Karlach, who could be gone in a moment. "Always loved them," she agreed softly, sitting down next to him so she could look up and watch the sky. "But I'll admit I never felt like I had company, just that I was lucky something so pretty was free." Not exactly poetic, she thought to herself, but they had been traveling together for a while now, and speaking up her thoughts was unfortunately becoming more and more natural to her. "Why can't you sleep?"

[apalestar]

@galefcrce plotted starter.

An eventful evening not for the soiree or clandestine deals Astarion had in store. No, tonight his palace played host to a friend of old. Admittedly, he and Gale had not ended off on the best of terms. A lover scorned and all. Already a small entourage of Baldur's Gate richest and finest had gathered. The palace had never been more livelier.

And many of Cazador's old clients and connections were all too eager to latch onto another influential person. The infamous moniker attached to his name: Hero of the Gate. Who could resist not coming to his social events? And how foolish Duke Ravengard had been to give him a noble's title! It made him respectable even if the eyes of those who knew him when he was but his slave.

This was the crux of why he even considered extending his lover of old an invitation. Gale wanted something from him; a deal. Something of import for him in exchange for magical tomes the late bastard Szarr kept in his collections. All were property of Lord Ancunín now, of course.

The musicians played a classical tune meant for partnered dancing. The wine and hors d'oeuvres flowed from the kitchens. A perfect evening for playing nobility's game.

Astarion's chamberlain, a slight thing of a woman, approached him. One of the few mortal servants in the household. Every vampire needed at least one for appearances. "My Lord, your guest of honor has arrived." She spoke quietly only once he signaled for her to do so.

"Splendid. The highlight of my evening barring any assassinations. Those always make for an entertaining affair." Astarion dismissed her. He weaved himself in and out of the crowd dodging conversations with a polite, well-practiced smile. His roguish tendencies hadn't diminished since the fall of the cult.

"Gale of Waterdeep." He greeted with the same fervor any good patriar would of an old friend; even one as estranged as him. "So pleased I am to—" A pause. "—see you. I'd fear you'd be half dead before you came to chat."

[lcftyambiticns]

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓. ╱ @galefcrce

A brief pause, imperceptible to most, but enough for the Waterdhavian wizard to raise his eyebrow slightly in surprise. Though Gale would never grow tired of being told he was right, to hear it from the so-called self-proclaimed archmage of Baldur's Gate was a surprise nonetheless, especially considering the stories he had begun to hear of the other.

"May I have that in writing?" he jested, "Although I would recommend forgoing the latter; it doesn't tend to bode well when speaking with other fellow archmages."

Lorroakan's lip curled in contempt as he shot Gale a withering glare, then closed the book with a soft "thud."

"I must admit, I've been too preoccupied with matters of actual importance to concern myself with winged alley cats," he idly remarked, setting the book aside ( apparently, Tressyms could be summoned ).

"Perhaps if I ever find myself in need of a pet, I'll reconsider."

[oathwilled]

"it looks like a warning." (from the Alien meme :) ) @galefcrce / alien prompts

The twisting column of smoke curls dark and sinuous into the waning evening sky — it doesn’t even make an attempt to conceal. Bold, a clear here we are sort of calling; were he in his younger days, he’d think himself clever for spotting it. He’s not that hot-headed youth any longer, though, and he’s far more weathered and wary; he agrees, and he commits to as much with a disgruntled grunt. 

" Or bait, " and gods, but he sounds weary. Weary like he’s feeling his years, weary like he just wants one night where something ominous doesn’t lurk upon the dusk-lit horizon. For a moment, he seems inclined to just keep walking — but he pulls up short, and he look he sends back to the wizard has the ponderous look of something unsaid. 

He chews on those thoughts — visibly, because he’s not subtle — until he relents, gaze ducking before he rocks his weight off a troublesome knee, bearded chin jutting upward towards the smoky column. " ’s right in th’fuckin’ way, too, innit. " Eloquent as always. Uncertainty twinges. " Goin’ around’ll add time. "

[chaoticbard]

"Alaara, why are you in the bushes?" Gale stood behind her, a towel draped over his shoulders and bathing supplies in hand. He was en route to the river to clean up when he spied her tail poking out from the bushes.

The gremlin virus spreads

If she could have shot up straight into the air over a hundred feet, she would have. Instead, she jumped, smacking her horns and other parts of herself on the branches of the bush. "GALE!" She wrestled herself free, taking chunks of bush with her. She reached up and grabbed some berries hanging in front of her eye. "...Ah- You aren't going to believe me when I say I'm bird-watching are you?"

"Would you believe I'm waiting for the prime moment to slingshot a small object as someone's flank?"

[bloodyarn]

Us

@galefcrce @deaddoveadventures @undyingmedium