WEAVEBOUND.

isola affiliated gale dekarios from baldur's gate three. 18+, indie friendly.

[weavebcund]

GALE DEKARIOS ( BALDUR'S GATE 3 ) I have a cat, a library, and a weakness for a good glass of wine.

APP / STATS / RULES

magical prodigy, former chosen of the goddess of magic, and wizard of some renown, now walking around with a ticking time bomb in his chest and an illithid tadpole in his head. desperate for a cure for both

lover of books, cooking, and chess, which coincidentally are great interests to have if you've chosen to isolate yourself in a wizard tower for years

only occasionally cursed with excessive ambition. he's not like those other guys who fell to their own hubris. he's got this

verbose, prone to martyrdom, and chaotic good through and through

i don't care how small the room is, i cast fireball

CONDO 405.

[deceitsung]

Kai doesn't know why he keeps dragging himself to these things. He never liked them growing up , and now he's just about sought them out at any opportunity. Perhaps it's him yearning for something constant , a reminder of the life he left behind. Or maybe he's just grown to enjoy them. It's not like there's much else for him to do around here anyways. He watches people dance , the reflection of the lights shimmering off the walls. It's beautiful. Almost too beautiful to be witnessing alone.

He blinks in surprise as he's approached - he really didn't have any intention of participating , after all. But who was he to deny a handsome man a dance ? ❛ Ah , I haven't danced in years , ❜ He starts , gently taking the stranger's hand in his own. ❛ I hope you don't mind if I trip over myself. ❜

[weavebcund]

HARD TO SAY whether it's modesty or truthfulness, coming from a stranger, but either way Gale laughs as they take to the floor together, noting the distinctively unique notes that ring out in response to the other's footsteps. With so many other groups and pairs stepping, jumping, twirling around the ballroom, the ambience is cacophonous to say the least, but the sound of his footsteps and the stranger's is closer and more immediate. The wizard watches their feet as they walk together, head tilted as though to study the duet more intently.

"I never promised I won't do the very same. Let's both agree not to hold it against one another, then, hm?" Still, he remembers the basics well enough - a hand here, feet there, his other palm held out in offering. "I'm out of practice, myself. My current, ah... ventures as of late haven't allowed much time for parties. Balls. Things of the like. No time like the present to get back into the swing of things, though, is there?"

[weavebcund]

ARCHIMEDES WARD -> CRYSTAL FUNHOUSE

A palace made entirely of ice. More than just a novelty, it's downright majestic, if a bit showy - Gale spends quite a bit of time inspecting the craftsmanship of the sculptures, studying the architecture. But the grand, empty space of the ballroom - he only identities it as such after taking his first step onto its floor, illuminated by the light that rises as a note sounds out in time with his footsteps - now that's the real spectacle. He walks in a large circle, watching his feet, smile playing on his lips. Particularly complex? No. Worth further study for the amusement alone? Naturally. Gale has never been one to attend large parties, but he knows his way around a dance floor well enough.

"Care for a dance?" He offers a hand to one of the other individuals observing at the edge of the ballroom, gesturing with a tilt of his head towards the floor. "I assure you, it's much more impressive out there than over here."

[viladlind]

leave it up to gale to babble. calling it a relationship in the first place could be innocuous, but not when he's talking about it to fiyero of all people. after a question such as this. not that he needed the confirmation, but he's amused anyways, makes a considering noise as he leans over gale's shoulder, peeking at his choices.

   ' i'd say so. you know that's not what i'm asking, though. ' in truth, he's not asking anything in particular, he's fairly certain he has his answers already. what he's looking for is to ... well, call it matchmaking. gods know these two need it.

   gale tells him to not read into it too much and fiyero disregards that entirely as he receives the shirt in question readily. ' i like the cut, but i don't think green is your colour. at least not this kind of green. ' reminds him too much of the druids they hang around. as he drapes the shirt over one of the hangers and starts looking for a better option, he continues, pointedly keeping his tone casual. ' would you want him to? use pet names for you, i mean. special ones. ' his small smile grows into a grin. ' a bit harder to do, considering his existing repertoire. maybe sugar plum? buttercup? '

   he picks out a shirt with a similar cut, but its colour more pastel, soft. something that matches the shade of gale's hair and eyes. he holds it up in front of him. ' handsome? you are, by the way. '

[weavebcund]

GALE HUMS AS THOUGH UNAWARE OF WHAT, exactly, Fiyero is asking, noncommittal and overly preoccupied with watching them rifle through hangers. On second thought, the question of his wardrobe is much simpler. "No, I'm afraid we may be in agreement, there," but the solution can't always be to buy more purple, he thinks. One must occasionally branch out into indigo. Maroon, if you're feeling bold. "It's the fabric, I think. Very... garish."

It's a delicate balance, finding something more well-suited to the fashions of this place while not abandoning the comforting familiarity of his attire from back home. He turns his back to comb through an adjacent rack, himself, running his fingers along the sleeves. Why is it all so shiny? If he wanted shiny, he'd simply wear more jewelry.

"If those are the options I'm given? Not hardly," Gale snorts, though the question itself gives him pause. Does he? He's not certain. Gale wants a great deal of things that he's reasonably sure Astarion does not. Something lasting, for one. The sort of thing one could write home to their mother about. Hypothetically speaking. Astarion would likely be ill at the very prospect. In the vampire's estimations Gale has only just barely been elevated above the status of any of the rest of them in the sense that whatever they're seeking from one another ( company, on Gale's part; on Astarion's, who knows, as the man keeps his cards very close to his chest ) is sought out on a semi-regular basis. Temporary as that may be.

It would be a silly thing to over-complicate matters. He turns back around only to patiently play the role of test subject while Fiyero makes their judgment call on the latest fashion prospect. Gale doesn't doubt they're much more suited to the task than he is. "I'm not sure that's necessary, in any case." An exercise in futility to dwell on the what-ifs, though Gale is guilty all the same.

"Think of how the others would feel if I started receiving differential treatment. And between you and I, Astarion's not much of a poet. I'd hate for the poor fellow to drive himself mad trying to come up with something unique." His eyes crinkle at the corners, teasing, which is much preferable to looking the part of a fool attempting to sincerely elaborate. What more can he say other than that's not what we have; that's not who Astarion is? "Handsome, though, now there's a fine start. You're quite good at this," that is, color-picking. Approvingly, he appraises the sleeve of their selection.

[grymfared]

❲ @weavebcund ❳

This strange city was a far cry from the familiar surroundings of Baldur's Gate, or in fact any place in Faerûn that Malchior had ever been in. Well, maybe that was a lie- there were some similarities, but not enough for him to feel any sort of comfort- he'd been able to navigate somewhat ⎛ mostly with Raven's help- truly, the tressym had been his saving grace after he'd fallen into such misery ⎠ - the locals found him handsome and charming, he had caught a fair amount of people looking his way, and wasn't that nostalgic?

He and Rorek had been rather well liked back in Baldur's Gate. And speaking of Rorek ...

Brown hair with a gentle wave. The garb of a wizard- Malchior's heart skips a beat and he snatches Raven up from the spot she'd chosen for a quick nap ⎛ much to her chagrin- ⎠ and the tressym lets out a startled meow as she's squeezed a little too tightly.

Numbly, Malchior loosens his grip and allows her to land beside him as he simply stares at the man before him. Upon closer inspection, the man is most certainly not Rorek, but ... perhaps in another lifetime ...

He sees himself growing old with the wizard at his side. They spend their youth exploring Faerûn, considering following the path of the city's founder- deciding against it in favor of simply settling down, because they've earned it. Rorek is older, but no less handsome, and Malchior's white hair doesn't look so out of place for his age. Two tressyms are curled up by a warm hearth- In another life, they're happy.

The vision fades and he's faced again with the situation at hand. Raven looks up at him with no small amount of concern, and Malchior realizes that he's crying. ❝ Sorry- I ... ❞

How was he supposed to explain this one?

❝ You ... I thought you were someone else- an old companion of mine ... ❞

[weavebcund]

GALE IS GROWING ACCUSTOMED TO THE ODD LOOK OR TWO. His attire, he'd learned very quickly, isn't standard for the people of this city ( for the most part; what with so many of them being brought here from more familiar lands, he strangely enough feels less and less out of place ) and even if it were, the denizens here seem to have a way of sniffing out newcomers, so to speak. He must look like something of a tourist. The notion isn't appealing.

This, though, is new, the intent stare that drills into the back of his neck, focused enough to cause him to search the smattering of passersby. A noise draws his attention more readily to the source— there, the man with the cat; no, a tressym. Gale feels a lurching tug in his chest. He does miss Tara, terribly so.

Transfixed by the animal, it's a moment before his gaze wanders to the face of the stranger at her side, the stricken look on his face, the glimmer in his eyes. A flurry of emotions descends upon him, confusion and worry ( has he done something? Is the man hurt? Gale hasn't got a single healing spell in his repertoire ) before the other seems to come all at once to his senses, drawn back into reality from whatever moment he was just caught in. Understanding dawns, the wizard's brow furrowing.

"Appreciated," he lifts a hand, as though to ward off the apology, "but hardly necessary. And I am sorry." It's nothing he's done, he knows. Nothing he could prevent. Gale... he thinks he might respond similarly, in other circumstances. Has before. A glimpse of long hair, a scent on the wind. She would never be drawn to the places Gale has gone, lately, but the thought of a clandestine encounter does linger. The absence aches all the more at such reminders.

"Let me buy you something? I've taken your time," inadvertently, and hardly more than minutes, but it feels wrong to leave someone so distraught and then run off. "The least I could do is pay you for it." An arm sweeps out towards the street - there's a bookshop in the area he's been visiting far too often, cafes on most corners - before he then offers the tressym a small wave. Clever creatures, they are, and too dignified to accept an offered hand without first passing their own judgment on those before them. Or perhaps Tara is just particularly uppity ( whether Gale got that from her or vice versa is a matter of ongoing debate ).

[refliction-deactivated20250227]

@weavebcund asked ; Well what would impress you, then?

"Anything else - I can't believe you can only cast mage hand. I miss when you had fireball, do you know that? Maybe this whole cooking thing would be easier if you could just douse it in spices and then blast it."

From across the way, he mimics an explosion motion with his hands. He's seated himself out of the kitchen and in the dining room, rather lazily watching as Gale goes about preparing something - seeing as it makes little difference to him, he hasn't asked. He doesn't see what use his current spell catalogue could have outside of grabbing spices just out of reach, so poking some fun seems appropriate. He does love playing the part of peanut gallery.

[weavebcund]

GALE CAN'T HELP BUT TO GUFFAW AT THAT, the skeptical look of exaggerated irritation he'd shot Astarion over the counter dissipating at the sheer absurdity of the image. "And burn the whole kitchen down, as well?" Yes, he'd suppose Astarion very much would revel in that chaos, but only if he was well clear of it. This isn't his housing, after all ( though it might as well be for how much the boundary of the door ever stops him ). "I'm hardly looking to take cooking advice from a man who eats raw deer for half his meals."

The mage hand in question returns to him with a few jars from the top shelf. In truth, as far as spells go it's one of the more reliable ones in Gale's book. He used it for this purpose back home, as well; fetching tomes he couldn't be bothered to reach, and so forth. It made the work go a little faster. Astarion had had very little reason to see the practicality in it before, he supposes, given their circumstances back home. The flashier magic was more useful in combat. In some strange way, he's pleased to find use for it again now. Pleased to show him a more mundane sort of magic. Despite the strange circumstances surrounding their arrival here, Gale had missed having a proper home to return to and had - occasionally - entertained the idea, during their travels, of what it would be like to show the group his tower back in Waterdeep, in calmer times.

Well. Some of them, anyway. He never said the notion was practical, let alone realistic.

"I can't begin to tell you how infuriating it is," he does agree then, "being stripped of everything so thoroughly. The years I put into learning some of those spells..! Gone in an instant." He shakes his head. "It's a travesty. You don't know how much you miss having magic missile on hand until it's gone."

[wshingwells]

@weavebcund ♡ for an Event Starter !

With every passing day, the sheer amount of people that have made her unwelcome guest squirm puts the girl more and more on edge. Just how many poor souls were pulled from their lives, only to be then pulled even farther when they got here ? If she thinks about it for too long, that looming dread cloud starts to block out her otherwise sunny disposition...

So instead of sitting on it for too long, Snow waved away that dark cloud and approached the wizard carefully. Well, she can assume he's a wizard anyways, he's certainly dressed like one...

" Copper for your thoughts my friend ? Why, if those brows of yours furrows any deeper, they may just pull right off your face ! "

[weavebcund]

GALE MAY BE GETTING... CONCERNED. Just a tad. Their little group back home, the bunch of them, it's bad enough that they're all walking around with this curse on their shoulders, these unwanted guests stirring in the front of their minds. To see more beginning to appear... it fills him with a dread that's growing a little too familiar for his tastes, one that can't be pushed aside quite so easily as he'd hoped. They have to do something, but what can be done? What condolences can he offer that are worth hearing when there are no solutions to follow after them? Distractions from the matter don't come easily. Gale has found himself rereading the same passage in his book no less than eight times, hardly making any headway down the page. It's all just too much. His brain is too occupied, but these days, when isn't it?

The young woman's approach hardly registers. In fact, it takes Gale some time to figure that she's talking to him, casting a furtive glance around to see who else is in the near vicinity that might be the target of her conversation. No, just him. "Ah." He waves a hand, dismissive, as though he can wave the topic of his preoccupation away that easily. "You wouldn't want them. I fear they're far heavier than a copper's worth," and he is not in the business of emptying pockets. But he does close the book, carefully, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as though he can vanish away the wrinkles that are forming across his forehead. Tara always did warn him the stress would age him too quickly. Look at him, he's going grey.

"But it's very kind of you to ask. You're right, I'm not doing myself any good by sitting here fretful," not about questions he can't answer, though that's half of the problem in and of itself. Gale has run into very few questions that he couldn't find an answer to, before. "A good book is more worth focusing on than any of my worries, I should think."

[elfbear]

@weavebcund liked for a starter.

After the first few familiar faces he's run into , seeing Gale doesn't have the same " spark " , so to speak. Sure , he's still happy to see him , but it's not as relieving as the first two were. Instead , it leaves him with a growing dread. A seed of doubt planted deep within his mind that he won't be returning back to the shadow cursed lands anytime soon. That he will never be able to free them from their blight.

The thought is shaken from his head as he approaches where Gale is sat. ❛ I hope you won't mind some company. ❜ Halsin lowers himself onto the grass before even getting an answer , letting out a soft sigh. He tilts his head back , staring up at the cloudless sky. This place , no matter how beautiful it could be , it just wasn't right.

❛ I would ask you how you've been , but seeing as we've both been brought to this place , I think I know the answer. ❜

[weavebcund]

GALE'S NOT SURE WHAT HE WAS HOPING TO FIND OUT HERE. An answer, maybe, as though the silence would grant him any insight. He's beginning to feel... well, a little useless. He's not much of a wizard at all, here. What sort of wizard is unable to reach out to the Weave for insight, a door, a loophole?

Anyway. Whatever he was looking for, it certainly wasn't Halsin. He can't even pretend to be too deeply surprised - it's starting to seem like there are more of them here than there. He sits up a little from where he was leaning back, tilting his head to smile at the druid. "Of course not. I welcome it." Gale's always worked better when he can bounce his thoughts off of others, regardless, so maybe this is what he needed, in a way. "It's good to see you. Had I known you were here, I would have sought you out sooner." Halsin is generally good company to keep. Unlike Astarion he doesn't get too prickly when Gale rambles.

The wizard sighs, smile falling only a bit before he catches himself. "Been doing a lot of thinking," he settles on, because that's the truth. "Of unfulfilled duties. Missing comrades. Things of the like. As I'm sure we all have. One would think that eventually the gods would grow bored of us, hm? What I would've give to be permitted just one day of rest." But that's one of many things he's afraid he can't find, here. He's been filled with restless energy since his arrival, knowing what waits for them back home and being unable to find a way to get there. No wonder Halsin came all the way out here to try and find solace among the trees.

[weavebcund]

@wiseoldmage

GALE DROPS HIS COFFEE ENTIRELY WHEN HE SEES HIM.

He's grown quite fond of the streets of the Archimedes Ward, and of course as a man of particular ( and distinguished, naturally ) tastes it's only taken a few short weeks to consider himself rather qualified in the way of picking out the best of the area's many cafes. It's not quite a daily routine, but certainly routine enough, walking himself down in the mornings to sit with a book and think. His housing can feel crowded at times. It's nice to step out. Things are relatively quiet, early enough in the day.

And as the morning carries on, the streets wake up. The din of the crowd and the hustle of footsteps is soothing background noise, too, in its own way. Reminds him so terribly much of Waterdeep. And Gale is content with people-watching— to a point, of course, because the moment that bearded visage appears in his peripheral vision he leaps to his feet so suddenly that the mug slips from his hands and shatters.

"Elminster?"

He steps over the remains of the coffee cup, stunned, and wastes no time in shouldering through the crowd to get to him. Of all the people to see here - familiar faces, even, as more and more of them seem to appear - he never expected—

"How are you here? Why are you here?" The question is on the tip of his tongue - did Mystra send you? Is he here to fetch Gale? He very much doubts she would extend him that much of an olive branch, but then she did give him orders last time he and Elminster spoke ( it feels not very long ago at all ) and might be a little miffed that Gale is here, now, and therefore unable to carry them out. The wizard squints a little, leaning forward. Elminster is very good at what he does, but to one with enough experience there are some tells to every spell. The smell of the Weave, if nothing else. "Either you're getting sloppy or this isn't another simulacrum."

[weavebcund]

"I'm not sure. What does he look like to you?" Gale tilts his head this way and that, eyeing the cat with scrutiny as he holds it in his arms, idly running a hand over its fur. "Othello, Holder of the Forbidden Tomes... or Norman?"

[weavebcund]

@viladlind asked ; Do you have pet names for each other yet?

"HM?" Gale holds one gaudy dress shirt up to the light and then the other, presently preoccupied. Which green is less... green? He hardly wants to infringe on Jaheira's territory. "Oh. Ah, no. No, it's not that sort of— our relationship is hardly..."

He trails off. Clacks his mouth shut. Wonders if this qualifies as saying more than he should have. Astarion is very particular about keeping things quiet, even considering the lack of privacy among the group already and the fact that anything they might have is scarcely serious by any stretch of the imagination. Damage control, then, though he suspects the fact that Fiyero is asking means they're already failing.

"Well, we're all friends, aren't we? Astarion uses pet names," the words are framed with overly dramatic air quotes, nearly dropping one of the frilly shirts as he does so, "for all of us. Darling," he points out as an example. "And so forth. Let's not read into it. What about this one, too much?" The shirt is passed Fiyero's way with such gusto that he nearly elbows one of the other marketgoers.

[chaiisms]

BALDURS GATE 3 PARTY BANTER PROMPTS LIST.

all of the following prompts are taken from party banter between the companions in larian studios' baldurs gate 3 (2023). there should be no spoilers! also, a disproportionate amount of these are from astarion and karlach. i'm not sorry.

I am enjoying our walks together, aren't you, [ name ]?

You'll be as depraved as the rest of us in no time.

Friend of yours?

Were you always so sneaky?

If there's hope for me there's hope for anyone.

How are we not there yet? My feet are killing me.

This is what I get for trying to strike up conversation.

We're not going to have trouble, are we?

If we continue this way, we may get too close for comfort.

Don't get too comfortable. We shouldn't overstay our welcome in such a place.

Do you have pet names for each other yet?

[ name ]! Was that a joke?

You know what - that is not the easiest of questions for me to answer.

Given your own nature, are you really the one to judge?

You can read?!

I'm surprised - I expected you to turn your back once you got what you wanted.

I wouldn't know a flirtation if you whacked me alongside the head with it.

Why stay somewhere safe and comfortable when we could be in mortal peril?

Can't say I love what they've done with the place.

I'm learning to enjoy the taste of chaos. Count me in.

At least you didn't tell me to 'be myself'.

You have so much to learn. Repeat after me: honey muffin, sweetie pie, sugarplum.

Nice to be in a crowd of normal people for once.

So [ name ], how is your sad, hopeless pining going?

You seemed a million miles away just then.

I fear I've been rather hasty to judge you, [ name ].

Ready to enter the belly of the beast?

Step one of starting a conversation: think before you speak.

I hear your relationship has taken on a new aspect recently…

All right, just keep it down. We're conspicuous enough without your hyena call.

Not one for roughing it, I see.

Why not have a little fun?

You're right, of course. Forgive me.

My money's on you, [ name ].

The echoes - listen! They're coming from three directions!

Want me to carry you?

Feeling at home?

Treat them right, or you'll have me to answer to.

Oh, darling, would you?

No doubt they found me too intimidating.

A girl could get used to this.

Now I don't know what to believe.

Well - yes, it was a joke.

I know that, too. It just wasn't funny.

And here I thought I rubbed you the wrong way.

Man, it's good to be home. First round on who?

Oh, I wouldn't actually leave. After all, where would you be without me?

You've quite the knack for finding the bright side of things, haven't you?

Well what would impress you, then?

Let's just stop this conversation right here, shall we?

Must've been an awful day for the people who lived here

You've clearly thought this through a great deal. I'm impressed and appalled in equal measure.

Sure, but think of the stories you'll be able to tell.

I never was scared of the shadows.

I know you're not really as heartless as all that.

I judged you wrongly. I'm sorry.

Are you charging for this sage advice, or is sticking your nose into my business just a hobby?

Pragmatism, thy name is [ name ].

That's ironic, coming from you.

We're either very clever or very lucky.

You do not need luck to survive, [ name ]. Not when you have me.

That will make getting word to my mother rather tricky.

Stop gawking at the decor. This place is dangerous.

I can't tell if you're joking.

So, what's it like caring for someone other than yourself, [ name ]?

You think I'm beautiful?

I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.

Yet another thing we have in common. We're two peas in a pod.

Is it so unbelievable that they would simply like me?

Use your words.

You gonna catch me if I eat a brick?

[ name ], I've heard you talking in your sleep.

Let's never speak of this again.

You can take a day off once in a while, [ name ]

Hey! Something bit me.

Cheer up. It might be all downhill from here.

I love a nice secret hideaway, don't you?

Think the bar is open?

[classically-lit-memes4u]

RIP to everyone killed by the gods for their hubris but im different. and better. maybe even better than the gods

[midnigtartist]

Let me work my magic✨

[enchiiridion]

@weavebcund <3'd!

They were sure they were going to dedicate an entire chapter to this place in their autobiography ( The Great Adventures of Volothamp Geddarm -- to be released posthumously, to have the most accurate and updated information ). Volo attempted to whistle for a while, in the middle of the park, to garner some coin. Perhaps if they saved enough from scratch, they would be able to buy their way out. Alas, they would discover shortly, that all currency was trapped in the little metal contraption they'd yet learnt to use.

They must be sure to save some coin for Tymora in offerings, though, for when they managed to make their way back to more familiar soil. They'd come upon yet another miracle since arriving on the island-- one of those adventurers that they'd become acquainted with! Elminster's prodigy-boy! Mystra's time-bomb! Oh, how relieved they were to finally be around someone who could cast a damn spell! "Well, if it isn't the famed Wizard of Waterdeep! Finally, someone on my level."

[weavebcund]

IT'S A MYSTERY THAT STILL ELUDES GALE, what exactly it is that brings all of them together here. Why Fiyero, why Astarion? Certainly the three of them are close enough, but Jaheira? Gale had only met the woman once. He finds himself particularly intrigued by the concept of cyclical arrivals, lost at what the thread might be that connects any of them to this place, daring to wonder if perhaps more of their companions will appear. Better they all be here than to leave half, or less, of them behind to fend for themselves. Not that they aren't perfectly capable, of course.

He was not exactly including Volo in his count when considering the matter. Gale hadn't expected to see him again at all, to be perfectly honest, at least not for quite some time ( his reputation notwithstanding, being that the two of them ran in the same circles - Elminster's company, namely - he was an impossible presence to truly escape ) after he scampered off from camp. It takes a moment to locate him from a ways across the park once Gale hears the voice over his shoulder.

"Ah. It's you." He's not disappointed. He means it, he's not - just, you know, there's a lot of people who could be calling for THE Wizard of Waterdeep and some of them are of higher standing in Gale's personal book. But surprise, really, takes priority— though, on his level? Gale holds his tongue but most definitely tables that one for later commentary. "I must admit, I didn't expect to see you of all people here. I'd been toying with the working theory that the tadpole was somehow involved in all this."

Naturally he couldn't speak for any of the other poor souls stuck here, but as far as their little group - honestly, it had held up rather well for all of ten minutes. Jaheira he could count as a fluke, unfortunately whisked along perhaps due to proximity. But this? Well, this throws the whole hypothesis right out the window.

[viladlind]

scratch realizes it before fiyero does. which is impressive, considering the tadpole in her brain stirs a moment after the dog barks, her attention pulled from the store window she was peeking through. it's gale's voice, at last, that has her focus shift entirely, and her eyes widen as she spots the familiar frame of a wizard making his way through the crowd towards her.

   inaction is usually the furthest from her, but she stands still for a second as his voice washes over her. then, excitement and relief in her step, so palpable she almost can't breathe through it. she rushes towards gale, so many words on the tip of her tongue that she nearly doesn't manage to speak. when she does, it's with delight and affection, a disbelieving smile drawn around her lips. ' gale! '

   taloned hands find his own, reaching for them gingerly. a wizard's greatest treasure, his hands. she's seen them cast incredible spells, woven in magic and light and power, but her first memory of them will always be his introduction, his hand sticking through a purple portal, asking for help. they've come so far, since then.

   squeezing his hands in hers, scratch trots a circle around the two of them, forcing some space from any passerbys. her tail, too, whips behind her, unnoticed by fiyero herself. ' praise lathander, i wasn't sure if i'd ever see you again. are you alright? '

   it's habit, that. as one of the healers of their party, as leader of their party, it's her duty to make sure they remain as alright as possible, given the cirucmstances. circumstances she's not stopped worrying about since her arrival, given that she had no way of ensuring that her friends were getting by without her. her eyes track his face first, then the rest of his body, but he has no visible injuries.

   ' you seem alright. i don't have my healing here, but let me take a look at you later anyways. have you just arrived? '

[weavebcund]

AND SCRATCH, TOO? He's not been holding out any expectation that the rest of their merry little band was similarly displaced - hasn't wanted to face the disappointment of he and Astarion being the only two to remain together - so to see the both of them at once is a relief. A laugh escapes him as the dog bounds over, though he doesn't have time to offer him a pet ( he'll get plenty more later, of course; funny, Gale had never considered himself much of a dog person at all before running into this lot ), too busy shouldering his way past a small group with only a briefly murmured apology to meet Fiyero halfway. Even with the tadpole itching at his brain at their familiarity, it's hard to trust his own mind these days. Clasping her hands in his, he's at least reassured that she's real - the foot traffic clearing to part around them suddenly matters much less.

"Yes, yes— I'm fine." He allows them to fret, hands gripped tightly, dutifully scanning the rest of him, and even somewhere so new it somehow feels as though not much has changed. His smile is fond. "Well," he then amends, with a considering tilt of the head, "fine as can be expected. Surprised, certainly, to see you here! But glad for it. Quite the improvement from our last abduction, wouldn't you agree?"

Best to make light of the matter. They've wormed their way out of worse, and it's difficult not to feel more confident upon falling into the company of Fiyero's easy leadership. Or perhaps optimism is grabbing hold of him now that he's found himself in a place that feels so much closer to home than anywhere else Gale has been as of late. Regardless, he inclines his head in response to the question.

"Recently enough." They'd taken a day or two to attempt to get settled, he and Astarion— oh, yes, that might be worth mentioning. "Astarion and I arrived at the same moment, as far as I can gather. Jaheira, too," who he is far less familiar with, though she's unquestionably a valuable asset to have around if her demonstration in the Shadow-Cursed Land was any indication. "Bit of luck, that. I'd thought—" he falters briefly before continuing, the confession's volume a fair bit lowered. "I hadn't dared to hope there were more of us here. How long..?" he trails off, as though avoiding finishing the question will spare him from the ( undoubtedly, what with their luck ) bad news of just how long Fiyero might have been trapped in this city.

[weavebcund]

thinking about the dnd campaign the origin character va's did where gale got distracted bc he was having a great time getting a spa treatment and gossip session. i think i need him to have a buddy he can drink wine and paint nails with