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blake kathryn
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pixel skylines
Jules of Nature
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Mike Driver
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shark vs the universe
Misplaced Lens Cap
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cherry valley forever
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@deathcultp0litics
"𝐀 𝐦𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐠 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐡
𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-"
"𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥."
A private Lord Enver Gortash of Baldur's Gate 3.
Highly selective.
Advised by Abi.
Rules . About . Mod . Verses . Thread Tracker . Promo
There was one thing certain. Both Chosen were always on the hunt for reactions ; alas, the sorceress prided herself on not having to use the wet popping of a shoulder in order to evoke such things. It annoyed her as much as Gortash hoped it would Ketheric ( and Masking it with moderate effort ) .
❝ I don't need to answer that. ❞ At the question about her displeasure. Flat voice, she lifted her hand ; away from the culprit cause of her annoyance.
And now he wanted to barter about it. The absolute nerve of this man.
A lesser person would have known their place & probably known how one would not keep talking & start obeying.
Oh well.
❝ You need convincing ? Are you jesting ? ❞ Her brow quirked up, not intrigued. Perhaps a little amused by this leap of faith the tyrant does. ❝ Do you want me to praise your ability to dislocate your limbs ? Elaborate. ❞
▌ CONTINUED @deathcultp0litics
"You don't need to, that's true," Enver's grin was diabolical, "But something tells me you will eventually."
Indeed, Gortash was no lesser person, as Esteri perhaps would have hoped. Years spent under the boot of others forged his will into something stronger - something a touch more persistent.
[ Both to his benefit and his detriment. ]
"I simply want to meet your expectations," He replied, "We are a team together in this, aren't we? Therefore: you ask me to be darling-"
"I'd hate to fall short of how darling you're expecting."
Golden capped fingers tapped at the table.
He still wore that stupid grin on his face.
imagine having to work with this guy
and yes, he did just ask Kethric for his input
Lord Enver Gortash of Baldur's Gate 3.
𝐀 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲 𝐈𝐧: Chronic Backstabbing Disorder, being deemed the Enfante Terrible, being a Faux Affably Evil Genius, and the Freudian Excuse.
Highly selective.
Advised by Abi.
Rules . About . Mod . Verses . Thread Tracker
stupid handsome younger man.
happy new year gang!!
now that i'm attempting to be back for realsies this time - i'm gonna wipe ( most ) of my slate clean.
if we have a thread / interaction going that you'd like to keep around, let me know!! and there's a few i'll keep bc i'm enjoying them. but most asks / drafts that aren't from like. the last month or so. are getting wiped.
just need to reboot, if that makes sense. gonna try and use the thread tracker again this year, so i'll put the link for that here once i'm done :3
hey gang - doing some reorganizing -- here's my thread tracker for grease miser:
https://www.rpthreadtracker.com/public/fleshcarverfugitive/gortash-threads
from @sleetkissed
A headache which subdued as soon as the armored elf finished his parting words. Another meeting of the Chosen, another hour of allowing the banite his shenanigans ; turning a blind eye, or rather ear, for the whole duration of it.
Facing Gortash, the sorceress broke the silence as soon as Ketheric was out of earshot.
❝ Enver. ❞ It sounded like a statement, a brick that fell into an empty room. Harsh, scolding. Annoyed in a sense. ❝ I do not have to be reminded of your affliction. However. ❞
Slender fingers grabbed onto the man's shoulder, fabric scrunching up into her palm. Not meant to hurt, just to underline the following warning.
❝ Be a darling & stop sounding like a whole dying forest suffering a storm. I refuse to believe the elf is able to pick up on it as much as I do — when sitting next to you. ❞
𝐨𝐦𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 | 𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐒𝐊 | @𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝
There was a wicked grin on Enver's face as the meeting ended - and he popped his shoulder back into place for the last time. As pale, slender fingers gripped said shoulder soon after he'd shoved it back into the correct position, he turned to look at who they belonged to.
The chosen of Bhaal - His bloodied hand given form.
Esteri.
His only equal.
"Him hearing it is not the point, dear assassin," His grin only widened, "The reaction from him merely seeing it is enough for me."
He raised an eyebrow, "Is it bothering you?" He knew the answer, "Perhaps I could be convinced to stop. How darling are you expecting out of me?"
Me when... Me when I... Pov: ... When you...
(surprise under the cut)
The expression was condescending, lenient even, as if watching a child boast about a castle built of sand. He took a step forward, polished leather boots making no sound on the stone floor. He gestured dramatically towards the stained walls and half-finished automatons.
“House? My dear boy, this is a workshop. A rather noisy, filthy little workshop. You’ve confused it with a home. A home has warmth, character. . . permanence.” He paused, his warm brown eyes fixing on Gortash’s. Permanence. Of course, he couldn’t bring the boy back forcefully. Clever thing. . . When he ran, he’d stolen the contract of his parents’ bargain with a devil, the sale of their own kin. And a bunch of other things as well. “-Things the House of Hope has in abundance.”
He circles one of the dormant Steel Watchers, running a finger along its metal with theatrical disdain.
“I cultivated that ambition in you, Enver. Watered it with just the right measure of cruelty and praise.” more cruelty than praise “To see it bear fruit is gratifying. It confirms the quality of the gardener, not the soil.”
His gaze swept slowly over the Archduke, lingering on his new attire, appraising and disdainful all at once.
“Why, can’t a dear father pay his respects to his child?” The words dripped with honey, but it was a lie. He loathed both Enver and his wrathful new god.
The truth is, Raphael is not fond of. . . losing.
"I'm not sure we ever lived in the same house then, devil," Enver remarked helpfully, "If you say this house has warmth and character in abundance."
He watched as the cambion ran a finger along the pristine metal of his Watcher, leaving a horrible little streak where it'd dragged itself. Of course he would. If not huge gestures of his disdain and hatred for him -
The devil was in the details, after all.
"Perhaps it confirms neither, and simply the will of the plant to survive. A weed, stubborn as they are, can survive in cracks between hard stone. It has no need of good soil or a gardener for its survival."
A small frown.
"Indeed, the gardener is often the demise of the weed - so for it to thrive is a rarity. A growing weed means an inattentive gardener, or an one that merely pretends to care for their garden."
He wondered which Raphael would consider himself.
Neither.
"If you've come to pay your respects," Enver replied coldly, "You certainly have an interesting way of doing it."
He snatched a cleaning rag off of a workbench.
Cleaned the smudge off of his Watcher.
"But you can begin by keeping your filthy hands off of my creations."
He huffed. Folded the rag. Put it back on the bench.
"And you can end by ceasing your lies, and telling me why you've come here. I am not your son, nor are you my father."
A bitter laugh, a horrible little smirk crossed his face.
"To think with all the trouble that I've caused you, you'd even wish to call me your son. Perhaps I shall honor you as more forgiving than the one that helped create me. Shall I bow to you for bestowing your meaningless title upon me?"
hey gang i am currently out of my adhd meds and idk when they're gonna ship so - that's why i've been so sparse and will probably continue to be very sporadic until they come
man i forgot how much being unmedicated sucks flkdsjfdsjf
Baldur's Gate RP Masterlist!
Reblog this post and add in the tags
your URL
if you’re a single muse or a multimuse
if they’re canon or an OC
your muse’s name
EXAMPLE: scrunklyrpblog, single muse, animal crossing verse, Scrunkly the Mighty
to be added in the list!
this is a masterlist only for the Baldur’s Gate series! If you’re interested in other DND blogs, please check this masterlist!
NOTE: if you have a multimuse blog, write as many muses as you have; if you’d like, feel free to give your muse a “title” to describe them!
Characters in alphabetical order can be found HERE
🐱 MUNDAY MEME; WHAT KIND OF CAT IS THE MUN? 🐱 Send an ask telling me what kind of cat I give off
🌪️ The Gremlin Cat - Always in your cabinets. Constant chaos. Yells at nothing. Probably has unfinished drafts and energy drinks nearby. 🍷 The Fancy Cat - Sleeps on velvet. Answers messages in cursive. Probably manifests things with moon water and wears rings on every finger. 🎸 The Alley Cat - Street smart. Has opinions on everything. Doesn’t run from drama. Will fight your ex and win. 🛏️ The Sleepy Cat - Always napping. Posts once every 4 days. Lowkey unbothered and will ignore the world to rest. 📚 The Bookstore Cat - Wise and chill. Knows your muse’s trauma before you do. Would live in a coffee-scented library if they could. 🪄 The Witch’s Cat - Big spiritual energy. Communicates in candle flickers. Probably cursed someone with a meme once. 🎮 The Goblin Cat - Meme gremlin. Chaotic-good. Too many tabs open. Screams at the void and calls it enrichment. 🌸 The Cottage Cat - Soft vibes only. Forest-core. Bakes bread, wears oversized jumpers, and is emotionally devastating in threads. 👻 The Haunted Cat - Sees ghosts. Sends cryptic messages at 2am. Probably edits their theme during an existential crisis. 🪞 The Mirror Cat - Quiet. Observant. Looks innocent but knows everything. May or may not secretly be judging you. 🔥 The Spite Cat - Posts out of rage. Petty and proud. Too hot to handle. Somehow always right. 🖤 The Tumblr Core Cat - Vibes are unmatched. You’re probably mutuals. You might also be a little afraid of them.
It was an amazing haul for the seamstress today. While many left the abandoned tailor shop without mentionable loot, Babette got her little hands on an old sewing machine. Never really used one — Her fingers were swift & talented enough to be fine without one. But wasn't that an exciting new addition to her collection of utensils.
Sadly, nobody knew how to use one. What a curse, to be the only tailor at camp. If there only was someone who knew their way around a machine . . .
Wow, hey there ! Wait a second . . .
❝ Mr. Gortash ! Oh, I could really use your knowledge right now. A moment ? ❞ The fey prompted both gently & excited. ❝ There is this new . . . or rather old . . . sewing machine I now possess. Alas, I have no idea how to handle that curious little thing. Could you spare some tips ? ❞
𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐜? 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬. 𝐅𝐈𝐗𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄? 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓! | 𝐔𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐬𝐤.
Babette was quite lucky that Gortash had use of not just one hand, but two hands now - their valiant leader had seen it worth their time to find him the metal he needed ( primarily for purpose of him helping that damn tiefling fix Karlach's heart ) - and his new makeshift extremity glinted in the setting sun.
He couldn't help the quiet, yet beleaguered sigh that emerged from him when he heard Babsi's voice, however - what did the seamstress want now?
A look over to her if only to tell her to leave him be, when he noticed the contraption in her hands.
...He knew this machine.
Not personally - but he'd seen them.
"Just- hand it over," Enver held out his hands to receive the machine, raising an eyebrow, "It will be easier and less painful for both of us if I don't have to explain how to fix it a hundred times."
Folding her hands neatly over her lap. She could ( if she wrapped her head around focusing on someone's body language ) read the room. The small woman straightened up, politely nodding her little head, Humming.
❝ I mean . . . you are not wrong. ❞ The visitor in her head was far more deserving of attention. Not to forget the dread looming over them. Or under them ? So much to watch out for. But if he wasn't a stubborn one. What harm could a laced shirt do ? Pointing out the similarities to his mother, who clearly never taught him basic lacing-skills ( So she assumed ), was so crass indeed !
Hm Hm.
❝ It would certainly not kill you, to look presentable. First impressions are everything. And I would be damned if I didn't offer assistance in stepping up a friend's appearance. ❞ The word friend came so easy from her lips. Apparently, everyone who wasn't holding a knife to Babette's throat was a friend. Poor Enver.
▌ continued [ x ] @deathcultp0litics
A friend.
Enver would have laughed, were he not so damn miserable being in this camp at the moment. Because of course of all people to stop by for him to conspire with to escape the Hells -- it had to be these lunatics.
"Oh, I'm sure everyone will have a wonderful first impression of me with my laced shirt, now that I'm sure you all have run about to tell the whole city of your heroic deeds," He spat, before looking away - the gears of his mind whirring.
Somehow, he knew Babsi wasn't to be so easily deterred - she'd made it this far alongside the rest of those rogue adventurers, in any case. Past Minthara's army of goblins, past Ketheric and his undead town, and now--
...How long could this really take, anyway?
"...Fine," He conceded, "Enlighten me. And keep it quick, won't you?"
A visit from a devil you know.
@deathcultp0litics
Oh, but it was soooo amusing! Haarlep was absolutely delighted that little Enver was back within the House of Hope. It was hilarious! And also... inevitable... For his soul would always belong to Raphael, no matter how far he tried to run. No wonder he had attempted to run into the arms of godhood, it may have been the only thing to release his master's grip. Unfortunately, things had yet to go Enver's way.
Such a tragic little boy. But Enver Gortash was no boy anymore, he was a fully grown man that stood before the incubus, and Haarlep's eyes roamed over the canvas that Raphael had sculpted. How alike they were...
"How right you are," the creature mused with a knowing smirk. "I can smell your seed from here, darling... ripe with adulthood. How delicious." His claws curled playfully, tail swaying as he leant back against the plush settee in the room.
"My, darling, we have so much to catch up on! Isn't this exciting!?" Haarlep spoke as if he had no idea of the trauma that the house pressed against Gortash, as if the walls themselves would not suffocate the poor child within. Perhaps it was because the incubus knew no matter... or perhaps it was because Haarlep simply did not care. It was hard to tell with their playful nature.
Enver recoiled as Haarlep spoke, trying hard to ignore the incubus' remarks on his... scents.
Most tolerable member of the House was rock fucking bottom, evidently.
"Yes. Exciting," Enver's tone was dry as the Calim Desert as he one handedly yanked off his boots, "Has the master of the house not told you anything? Or has he been too busy flattering himself to rebuild his broken ego ever since I outsmarted him?"
He snorted as he eyed up the fountains of the boudoir, and "Or perhaps you've been helping him with that. Ten minutes of pleasure at a time."
LET’S TALK ABOUT SOMETHING A MOMENT.
you don’t need fancy icons to roleplay with me.
you don’t need to write in small fonts to roleplay with me.
your theme doesn’t have to look like you gave your soul to photoshop to roleplay with me.
i won’t rp with you if you don’t read my rules.
i won’t rp with you if you have a sucky attitude.
LET TUMBLR ELITISM DIE.
