⋆⭒˚.⋆ 𝖘𝖆𝖚𝖉𝖆𝖉𝖊 ⋆.˚⭒⋆

[galefcrce]

GALEFCRCE: Independent, selective roleplay blog for Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep of Larian's Baldur's Gate III.

Multi-ship friendly and canon compliant. All writing on this blog is 21+. Dice rolled by Day, he/him, 25+, Irish (GMT).

Sideblog to @dicethrow. Will follow back from there.

Also writing on @swashbucklcr.

Threads: 8/5 ─ ☆ ─ Asks: Open ─ ☆ ─ Current activity: Moderate ─ ☆ ─ Memes ─ ☆ ─ Headcanons ─ ☆ ─ Dragon Age Verse

Note to Non-Roleplay Blogs:

You are welcome to follow, read, and like any content you see here. However, please refrain from reblogging writing threads or headcanons. Feel free to reblog any images or like any posts.

Rules are found under the cut.

RULES

Mutuals only: I'm extremely selective and limit follows and threads, to a max of 5 active threads, due to IRL time constraints. This isn't a reflection on the quality of writing by the other person. I don't have the time to write with everyone, sorry!

Age: Only write with muns 21+, preferable 25+.

Formatting: I'm dyslexic, so please use simple, consistent formatting (font, size, spacing). Avoid heavy styling like alternating fonts or excessive bold/italics.

Dash only: I don't have a theme and keep my writing aesthetics to a minimum.

No hate or manipulation: Hate speech, call-out posts, or vague posts won’t be tolerated. Be direct if there’s an issue. Attempts of manipulation in any way will end in a block. No homophobia or transphobia will be tolerated.

Shipping: Based on writing chemistry only. Don't assume the ship based on gameplay.

NSFW: Tagged as 'tw: [trigger]' and 'nsft'. No personal triggers. Sexual/suggestive asks require prior OOC discussion or established IC interaction.

Replies & exclusives: No exclusives, but reply speed may vary by muse and ooc relations.

Prompts & questions: Prompts are open to mutuals; anyone can send questions at any time.

Breaking mutuals: Unfollow, soft-block, or block as you see fit. Do what makes you comfortable. I'll softblock unless the mun requests a hardblock in their rules.

Anon: On, but hate is deleted. No NSFW anon replies.

DNI: Anything from the HP franchise.

[galefcrce]

Hello! I'm still around.

Been a bit MIA on the blog cause of life and such, mostly good things, but very busy. Work has me pulling later hours too, and so I've been focusing on mostly offline hobbies (gym, football, D&D etc.) which hasn't given me much time for here, but I'm hoping things will settle down soon and I'll be back to write more Gale!

The muse is here, just not time unfortunately, but some major work milestones (and personal ones) should be passed soon! 💜

[roguefangs]

@galefcrce continued. 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 ---- it's gale's ability to chatter. any topic , any matter that he can ponder on for but a moment and there comes a tidal wave of ideas with it. ones he can't help but push forth into conversation , and so the vampire's ruby eyes swivel toward him as he does so. ' it may count for something , ' he agrees , but with a glance toward the orb-shaped tattoo just peeking beyond the collar of wizard's robes. he can only imagine what a sliver of corrupted weave would taste like. or the magic that he absorbs from all those practically useless trinkets they pick up. ' i simply haven't tasted enough people to form a preference , i suppose. ' though , thoughts of how one's blood might be swayed by what's eaten before the true feast , it causes astarion to sigh wistful to think on. to taste the sweetness of apricots or the savoury meatiness of gravy without it making him feel sick to his stomach would be a treat. but wine , he likes wine .... ' wine is about the only thing i can stand to be around any more. it's not your cooking , of course , as much as i like to jest it might be. ' a rare kindness , from astarion. to actually mean less harm with the things he says than to infer something prickly or mean-spirited. perhaps he's simply feeling generous considering gale's lack of distaste at discussion of his diet.

[galefcrce]

Gale nodded sagely, absorbing the information as any seasoned academic would. Few texts accurately described the dietary needs, limitations, and allowances of a vampire beyond the basic requirement for sanguine sustenance, and even that raised a plethora of questions. Why blood? Why did the blood of certain creatures taste better than others? Did some provide a greater sense of fullness than others?

The questions bubbled insistently in the curious human's mind, but Gale had the good sense not to unleash them. There was already enough being asked, and a clear line existed between friendly curiosity and academic interrogation. One he had no intention of crossing.

After all, Astarion was a companion before anything else. A campmate, at the very least. Friend might be a term neither of them would readily agree upon just yet, but perhaps, with time, it could become so.

The comment about his cooking only added to Gale's quiet hope for that possibility. He hadn't expected such a kindness from Astarion, though he accepted it nonetheless. Gale was well aware that his culinary efforts in the wilds were… lacking. With limited utensils and, more importantly, limited ingredients, he could only do the best with what he had.

So he chuckled and waved a dismissive hand, letting the remark bounce harmlessly away.

"Interesting, though, isn't it? Of all the foods and beverages you can still enjoy, it's wine. Is it only red wine, or do the other varieties suffice as well?"

He tapped his foot, his thoughts circling once more around blood and taste.

"If only I could offer my own," he mused aloud, "My blood, that is. I would be intrigued enough to test the theory. Adjust my diet, see if you could detect the changes --perhaps even taste hints of my meals or drink as they flowed through my veins…"

The words trailed off.

Instead of wine or other indulgences coursing through him, there was only the blackened purple corruption of the orb. He knew it poisoned his blood, the discolouration of the veins around his chest, the creeping tendrils along his neck and cheek, told him all he needed to know.

"Alas," he added quietly, "I doubt my blood would be even remotely appetising."

[kingsmemes]

「   RP MEME :   NONVERBAL PROMPTS.  mix of violent, caring, touching and non-touching prompts.  」     SEND PROMPT '+ REVERSE' for the inverse to happen. for example 'bandage + reverse' for the receiver to bandage wounds on the sender.

[ BANDAGE ] : sender bandages a wound on receiver.

[ GUIDE ] : sender puts a hand on he receiver's back to guide them somewhere.

[ WAVE ]: sender waves down receiver to get their attention.

[ SIGN ]: sender raises their hand to sign to receiver. what follows can be anything the sender desires.

[ LIFT ]: sender lifts receiver's chin to look at them.

[ LIGHT ]: sender lights receiver's cigarette/candle/etc.

[ FIND ] : sender finds receiver beaten and/or bloodied.

[ PIN ]: sender pins receiver against the wall during combat/sparring.

[ GET DOWN ]: sender tackles receiver out of the way of danger.

[ TAKE ]: sender takes a hit meant for receiver.

[ CAUGHT ]: sender finds receiver somewhere they aren't supposed to be.

[ TRAP ]: sender traps the receiver somewhere they don't want to be.

[ DARLING ]: sender touches receiver's cheek.

[ SNATCH ]: sender snatches receiver's wrist as they turn to go.

[ STAB ]: sender stabs receiver.

[ DRAG ]: sender drags receiver from point a to point b.

[ SIT ]: sender sits on receiver's lap.

[ EN GARDE ]: sender and receiver get into some kind of fight.

[ DRUNK ]: sender finds receiver drunk.

[ BLOOD ]: sender walks into receiver's room covered in blood.

[ FLOWER ]: sender offers a flower to receiver.

[ HOLD ]: sender reaches to hold receiver's hand.

[ BRUSH ]: sender brushes a strand of hair out of receiver's face.

[ NOTE: ] sender writes a note for receiver. the contents are whatever the sender decides.

[ EYES ]: sender notices receiver looking at them.

[ STOP ]: sender raises hand to signal the receiver to stop in place.

[ TAP ]: sender taps receiver on the shoulder to get their attention.

[ WAKE ]: sender gently wakes receiver from a nap or otherwise.

[ MORNING AFTER ]: sender and receiver wake up together for the first time after a night of passion.

[ BLANKET ]: sender drapes a blanket over receiver's shoulders.

[ HUDDLE ]: sender and receiver huddle together in an effort to stay warm.

[ TUG ]: sender pulls receiver away from them.

[ PUSH ]: sender pushes receiver away from them.

[ BULLET ]: sender shoots receiver in a non-lethal area.

[galefcrce]

Reverse meme call. Like this and I'll go through your meme/prompt tags and send one in from Gale!

[galefcrce]

Reverse meme call. Like this and I'll go through your meme/prompt tags and send one in from Gale!

[trashmancer]

Tara!!

[galefcrce]

starter for @ramazithsfinest

There was something to be said for the art of letter correspondence. True, there were sending stones and similar conveniences, but such methods came with limitations: word counts, truncated thoughts, and a lack of the artistic flair that came from placing care and intention into every word set upon parchment.

Gale was grateful that he and Rolan had been afforded the luxury of writing to one another. Letters felt an inadequate term for what their correspondence had become; short novels seemed far more appropriate. Many of Gale's missives spanned several pages, dense with arcane theory and academic musing, folded carefully into envelopes and sealed with wax before being entrusted to a courier.

Their most recent letters, however, had been notably shorter, the discussion turning instead to the logistics of an in-person meeting. Hardly a difficult prospect for two wizards of some renown; the newly appointed Archmage of Baldur's Gate, and the former Archmage of Waterdeep. Between the two of them, accessing a stable portal was simplicity itself.

And so, not long after the final letter had been delivered, Gale stood patiently, waiting for the crackling hum of magic to subside and for a colleague -- no, a dear friend -- to emerge.

Considering the perils they had both faced in the past year, calling Rolan anything less than a friend would have been an insult.

When the Archmage finally appeared, Gale beamed in welcome, extending a hand to guide his fellow wizard onto solid ground.

"Rolan! I hope the journey went smoothly," he said lightly, casting a brief, assessing glance over the tiefling to be certain that was indeed the case. Satisfied, he added, "It is my deepest pleasure to welcome you to Waterdeep, the City of Splendours."

[galefcrce]

it's still you though, right?

critical role prompts // @thestellarsoul

"As Gale of Waterdeep as one could ever be!" he replied, brushing the dust of the road from his robes. A habit formed over years of wandering city streets and harbouring the persistent hope of appearing presentable before fellow mages. A mildly fruitless effort, perhaps, given that he would soon be changing into his camp clothes.

Still, it was good practice to remain presentable.

"Perhaps a bit worn and weary from recent events, but nonetheless, I can assure you I remain as knowledgeable and academically gifted as ever." A faint smile followed. "Though… a touch hungry as well. Care to join me for dinner? I intend to prepare an evening meal for my fellow travellers, lest they grow too hungry and bicker even more than usual."

His tone softened, but eyes alit with an excitement that only knowledge and wonder coudl alight in Gale's eyes. "I would very much enjoy the company of someone academically inclined. I'm certain we both have ample stories from our academy days to share… alongside the meal, of course."

[galefcrce]

you were not born with venom in your veins. (from Elysia, either bg3 or Dragon Age verse, whatever you're feeling!)

critical role prompts // @fatedmuses

A weary smile crossed the mage's face as he adjusted his seating, allowing the tingling in his feet to ebb as the blood flow returned. Loss of sensation in his limbs had become a constant issue; a side effect of the Blight that was poorly documented, though perhaps it was more accurately a consequence of the methods he used to slow it.

Often enough, the distinction between the two blurred, especially now that he was nearing a full year since contracting the Blight.

Naturally, his condition was a topic of discussion among mages, but at least with Elysia, the concern was centred on his health and wellbeing, rather than the risk of contagion or his fall from grace at the Magisterium. Even so, he wasn't entirely certain what weight his former political standing carried with a Grey Warden mage from Ferelden.

He had learned rather quickly that Altus were not held in especially high regard in the south. Southern opinions on magic, and mages, were certainly… unique.

"Alas, no. I was blessed with over three decades of venom-free blood. Or Blight-free, if you prefer." He exhaled softly. "How I took such things for granted… a sentiment I am certain has been echoed by countless others who have succumbed to this disease. Still, I do miss the days when traversing the land, or even climbing a simple staircase, wasn't quite so exhausting."

His expression faltered as tendrils of despair threatened to surface, but he blinked them away, swallowing the grief and forcing another smile into place.

"But you Grey Wardens, you possess texts upon texts of invaluable knowledge on tending the Blight, even when it is considered too late for… shall we say, Warden intervention?" Gale tapped his nose lightly at the phrase, well aware, at least in part, of how the Blight was used in the initiation process.

Years spent poring over abandoned tomes in crumbling Warden fortresses had taught him enough to make an educated guess.

[galefcrce]

Morren approaches Gale's tent looking apprehensive. She has a book in her hands but she's holding it like it might explode at any second. She hesitates a moment before she clears her throat and thrusts the book at Gale. The title - Yoshimo is Willing - catches the light.

"I thought you might like this...because you're smart and you like reading..."

Morren's cheeks are an almost luminous shade of red. With that she turns on her heel and practically runs away.

@wolf-eyes-wolf-soul

Some combinations truly pleased the soul, at least as far as Gale was concerned: a warm meal by the fire; the perfect alignment of somatic components and verbal pronunciation in a spell; and, finally, a book gifted by a dear friend. Morren had arrived with the latter, and it drew a broad smile across the wizard's face.

That smile wavered the moment he saw the title.

Not from disgust, but from confusion, and perhaps intrigue. Why this book? And why from Morren, of all people? More to the point, where would one even come across such a volume while travelling the road? Then again, all walks of life passed through the routes leading to Baldur's Gate. He supposed it wasn't unreasonable that someone, somewhere, might carry such literature with them.

It seemed Morren had deemed Gale exactly that sort of fellow... Perhaps only in a very private sense.

This was certainly not a tale he would be caught reading openly by the campfire. And yet, he was undeniably curious as to what had given Morren the impression he might enjoy it.

He would, of course. The book was rather infamous, and for reasons he found… personally intriguing, at the very least.

The blush on the the ranger's cheeks only strengthened his suspicion that she knew precisely what she was suggesting.

"Oh." The word slipped out before he could help himself as he reached for the book, checking the cover to be absolutely certain it was the very novel he'd heard whispered about. A few quick flicks through the pages confirmed it.

"May I ask where you acquired such a book?" He paused, then shook his head slightly. "Apologies--, my curiosity has quite run ahead of itself. I mean to say… thank you. It was very thoughtful of you to consider me... with your, ah, offer. I do look forward to reading it." Another pause, more hesitant this time. "Have you… read this material before? Or perhaps even browsed the illustrations?"

Somewhere in the darkness beyond the firelight, Gale was fairly certain he heard muffled laughter drift across the camp.

[galefcrce]

// I bring back this blog only to get pulled away by other things!! I'm still around just slow. Life's been busy, but I'll get to replies soon 💜

Also, all memes are open for anyone to send in something, whenever you want, there's no expiry on them. Same goes for asks; toss in whatever, and I'll get to it when I can :)

[wolf-eyes-wolf-soul]

Continued from here @galefcrce

Gale had mentioned he had some sort of illness but had always been very vague with the details. It didn’t seem like any disease she had ever encountered. It needed magic to quell the symptoms but Gale otherwise seemed to be perfectly healthy. It had never crossed her mind that it could be contagious. She would know. She had the experience of a healer both magical and mundane. Maybe it was something that only affected wizards.

Then again, everyone else seemed to find it odd too. Maybe it was a very rare illness too.

And what kind of disease would leave a mark like that? Morren wasn’t even sure a weapon could leave a scar like that. It seemed so peculiar and in such an odd spot that she had simply assumed it was a tattoo like the ones she sported down her left arm. It had seemed like the simplest and most logical explanation.

“I—sorry. I thought…nevermind.” Morren gave the end of her braid a self-conscious tug. She hadn’t meant—she had only been attempting friendly conversation. She thought it would be something they could have in common.

“Are you…" She paused again, not wanting to poke at a wound more than necessary but she also wanted to help in what way she could, besides finding magical artefacts for him. "If you're in pain, you'd tell me right? I could help."

[galefcrce]

Her concern warmed his heart more than he had expected, perhaps more than he had allowed himself to expect at all. Either way, his smile softened as he stepped closer, giving her his undivided attention.

"Nothing to apologise for. It's only natural to be curious, and you are quite right, it does resemble a tattoo. A strange one, perhaps, but I'm certain there are far stranger designs out there."

A part of him wanted to reach out and still those anxious hands, to gently coax them away from her braid and offer some small measure of calm. But that would be a step too far. He had no idea how she might receive such a gesture, and, more importantly, it would be deeply inappropriate.

"Ah… my condition is quite manageable for the moment. Your last generous gift was most welcome, and I can still feel its effects keeping things stable." His tone was sincere, careful. "It is very kind of you to offer again, but I would not take anything of such value from you unless it were truly necessary. And in that case… yes, I would ask."

The simpel fact that he now had someone, someone other than Tara, whom he could turn to for help meant more than Gale could properly put into words. The gratitude, and the beginnings of something warmer still, showed plainly upon his face.

[rubyredtragedy]

@galefcrce asked

i've dealt with enough pain over the years.

"Well, that, Wizard, seems to at least be something we have in common." Astarion said with a small huff as he sat beside the fire, arms folded over his chest while staring into the flames. The spawn had been in a sour mood ever since that encounter with that Gur in the swamp. Fear and uncertainty churned in his stomach, squirming more than the blasted worm in his head.

It must have been Cazador who sent him, which meant that there were likely others that his Master had sent. He wasn't safe.

Yet, these people he had found himself necessarily in the company of had defended him, which was not what he had expected in the least. Still, most seemed stand-offish towards him, which he was just fine with.

Though, the Waterdhavian appeared to have little issue with Astarion's company beside the fire, the stew Gale had made still steaming and bubbling over the red-hot coals. Astarion actually found himself enjoying staying by the fire when Gale cooked... there was something surprisingly soothing with the smell of food even if he did not partake in eating it himself.

"Pain is, tragically, something I am all too familiar with."

[galefcrce]

The joke had come from a burnt thumb. Gale was mildly embarrassed by the mistake, brushing against the scalding pot, but the pain itself was minor. He waved it off with a light jest, though it quickly became clear it had not landed as intended.

A long pause followed as Gale took stock of the room, or rather, the campsite. The large pot bubbled steadily as he adjusted the height to bring it down to a gentle simmer, giving it another stir before stepping away to join Astarion's side.

"I could only imagine. Actually… no, I couldn't. I doubt I can truly imagine what you endured under the command of a vampire lord. I apologise for my throwaway comment. It was careless of me."

Gale understood pain, intimately so, over the past year. Yet even with that familiarity, his time among the others at camp had taught him just how varied pain could be. Karlach's burning engine; the agony of the Hells, followed by freedom that still denied her the simplest touch. Shadowheart, punished by her goddess with flares of agony whenever she showed even the smallest kindness, as if pain were meant to blacken her heart.

And then… Astarion.

Gale was well read on vampire lords, on the fates of their thralls and spawn, but he suspected even the tomes fell short of the truth.

[galefcrce]

drop this sunflower🌻 into the inboxes of the blogs that make you happy ! lets spread a little sunshine☀️

// You are the best dude ❤️ ✨ right back at you 🌻🌻🌻🌻

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM CRITICAL ROLE: THE MIGHTY NEIN *  assorted dialogue from the campaign, adjust as necessary

yeah. the world does need an asshole.

you're not my type.

i don't normally speak with the dead on a first date, but we'll think about it.

are you secretly in love with me?

it's a chair. it's a standard chair.

i'm really really nice, but i don't always make the best decisions.

sleep well with your bad decisions.

that sounds like someone whose ass i would like to kick.

it's entirely off-putting how disarmingly charming you are. i genuinely do not know how to react. take that as a compliment.

is that a natural thing for you guys to just attack each other in moments of stress?

fucking seaweed wraps are the shit!

well, my social anxiety is getting the best of me. i'm taking a walk. goodbye.

i've never traveled with a bunch of people i thought would die in front of me.

tell you what. i start sweating real hard, i'll let you know, okay?

please. please help me.

the rule is that evil dies.

you need me more than i need you.

eventually, someday somebody will pray for a miracle, pray for something to save them to whatever gods are nearby, and that prayer will be answered because you'll show up.

you were not born with venom in your veins.

i'm asking you to open your heart to chaos.

nothing happens for a reason. it's absolute fucking chaos.

we have to keep them from being... dead.

have you ever had a blueberry cupcake?

i smell like a crayon.

can i get a hug?

i could be her beacon.

i think we have a job to finish.

i pick and choose my apologies.

it's better to have someone's word broken than to have no word at all.

i would rather you put your faith in me for something more important than my curiosity.

oh shit, are we a cult?

i heard you.

man, you make vulnerability look so easy.

there's a dick hidden somewhere in there.

you pick and choose your fights. me? best not to give in to a man i can crush with one hand.

it's still you though, right?

you don't get to talk anymore.

it's a regular fucking turtle.

i'm trying to be nice. this is as painful for me as it is for you. just give me five seconds.

you are blue.

i mean, i don't want to impose, but i'm bleeding profusely.

i did my best every town i went to and every town i left, no matter how they treated me, and a lot of them treated me with deep disrespect. i left every town better than i found it.

i'm always ready to make a damn fool of myself.

[galefcrce]

GALEFCRCE: Independent, private, and selective Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep of Larian's Baldur's Gate III.

Multi-ship friendly and canon compliant. All writing on this blog is 21+. Dice rolled by Day, he/him.

Sideblog to @dicethrow. Will follow back from there.