seeing a post that basically confirmed the obvious disparity in content made me think more about a scene i would have liked to see with gale and that i've been thinking about for a while now.
i always felt a bit sad that his condition is so often treated as a joke by the fandom and to a lesser extent by the game itself. i always thought that this is partially down to the fact that we don't truly get so see gale actively be in pain due to his condition, other than brief glimpses and hints:
we do hear the urgency in his voice when he explains when and why he needs an artefact and the relief in his voice when the protag chooses to help him.
we see it, too, when he is afflicted by the arcane hunger condition:
we get glimpses of it when he consumes an artefact:
he mentions it, too, in his dialogues, but it's very much downplayed by gale or phrased in such a way that is meant to overplay it with humour, or perhaps even to distance himself from it by using metaphors:
that is until we actually get to see it through his eyes, if only for the briefest of moments:
*Its teeth, its claws, it's unstoppable as it digs through and becomes part of you. And gods, it is ever-hungry...*
gale also has an idle animation where he--quite often--reaches up to touch the orb, perhaps because it flares with pain, like an old wound is wont to do:
(gif by @bladeofavernus)
from the last conversation we have with gale, and after catching all of these little moments of things he says or does with how the orb affects him, we learn that consuming the magic from artefacts no longer has any effect at all. the only solution that tara and he were able to find no longer works:
it would scare him and imbalance him, and it would finally destabilise the orb, make it more volatile.
but what happens in the game after that? the orb becoming volatile enough for the artefacts to no longer have an effect has no consequences at all: you are able to do the tiefling party, all quests in the underdark, the entirety of the grymforge, and, should you choose to do so, the entirety of the mountain pass and rosymorn monastery without an incident at all or any mention of the condition itself/any discomfort or fear it might cause.
there's no urgency here, no follow-up, to what the narrative set up... and then we meet deus ex elminster and the orb is stabilised, and the urgency that came before literally is handwaved out of existence.
what i would have liked instead to happen--or at least to bridge the gap between the artefacts no longer working and elminster stabilising it to be used on mystra's behalf--is the following:
i think it would have been nice to have a scene with gale where we do get to see--on a much smaller scale--him losing control over the orb, have the protag and the companions see what he is trying desperately to keep contained within himself, what gnaws at him, what continues to haunt him.
it could happen perhaps after a particular gruelling and intense fight--and there are enough of that in the underdark and at the mountain pass. it could have been a ! conversation, providing both friendship and romance content.
have the orb act up after expending so much energy to manipulate the weave to the fullest of his abilities, have gale manage to reign it in, but barely, show that it takes a lot of power and effort for him to do so.
that it hurts, with none of gale's metaphors to hide behind or jokes to play it off.
have the audience truly see the gravity of what he is going through.
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Old Friends Finale
Masterpost
Previous
Note: Charlie, the doctor, uses they/them pronouns.
Warnings: death
They tumbled into the Dark, wrestling with each other in the black.
Laith could see Nightclaw, grayscale against the infinite expanse of pure void, but it was clear after a moment that Master was completely blind.
“You stupid bitch,” he snarled. Laith dodged a wild swing of his blade; it came down a scant inch from where his head was a mere second before.
He struggled against Master’s weight pinning him down. With Nightclaw unable to see, he finally had an advantage.
Laith wiggled out of Nightclaw’s grip, his pure rage and frustration making him sloppy.
He scrambled out of reach, and Nightclaw stumbled to his feet.
“Where are you?!” Master shrieked, swinging his blade into the empty.
Nightclaw suddenly stood up straight, eyes still searching uselessly into the black. He dropped his blade arm to rest at his side.
“Darling…” he cooed, voice soft and sing-song, “I know you’re still there.”
Laith didn’t dare draw a breath as Nightclaw’s eyes passed over him.
“I’m not mad,” lied Master. “Take us back, sweetheart. I promise I won’t punish you.”
Laith said nothing.
Nightclaw suddenly cried out, not in anger, but in pain. He dropped the dagger entirely, and fell to his knees.
Laith didn’t know what happened to people when they were left in the Dark. Some sick part of him wanted to find out.
Nightclaw’s hands pressed against his head, as if some great migraine was pulsing in his brain. He gasped, eyes wide open, and against the grayscale, Laith saw black void stream from his eyes.
It flowed off his jaw and into the Dark.
Master kept screaming, even as his eyes completely turned to pitch and his mouth began to drip.
“Laith! Help me!” he called out, desperate. “Please!”
He still said nothing, frozen in horror. Dark spilled over Master's lips.
“LAITH!”
___________________
“LAITH!” Theo screamed, but he was too late. Laith and Nightclaw were gone.
He frantically turned in circles, searching for any sign of them. They couldn’t have gone far, not with Laith’s condition.
“LAITH!”
Mateo and Beatrice finally caught up with him.
“What happened?” Mateo demanded.
“Look for them,” he ordered, “hurry!”
They flew up into the sky, scanning the city.
“There!” Beatrice called, pointing in the distance. She dived down, scooped Theo up under the arms, and they moved in a blur.
Laith sat on the concrete, hands over his mouth. He was rocking back and forth, eyes wild. There was blood spatter on his clothes, too much to only be his.
Beatrice put him on the ground and Theo raced towards Laith. She hung back, and Mateo hovered above her.
Theo put his hands on Laith’s shoulders.
“Laith, where’s Nightclaw?”
Laith didn’t seem to hear him. Tears streamed down his cheeks. His pupils swallowed up most of the vibrant purple of his eyes, pure horror and panic in his face.
“Laith!” Theo shook him by the shoulders. Laith’s eyes snapped to Theo, as if just now realizing he was there.
“Where’s Nightclaw, Laith?”
“He’s- he’s gone,” whispered Laith, trembling. “I killed him.”
Theo inhaled sharply.
“Oh god,” moaned Laith, “I killed him!”
Laith turned away, vomiting onto the street. Theo rubbed his back as he retched.
Beatrice approached, and Theo shot her a pleading look. She held up her hands, and Theo knew she understood.
“Where’s the body?” she asked, quiet.
Laith shuddered. “I left him behind. In the Dark.”
“The Dark?” she gently prodded.
“It’s… it’s where I go. When I use my powers.”
Theo remembered the dark cold Laith brought them through when they escaped Nightclaw. He wasn’t aware it was a place, but then again, he never thought about it.
He filed away a note to ask Laith exactly how his powers worked.
“You killed Nightclaw and left him in the Dark?”
“N-no, I-” Laith scrubbed a hand over his face. “I- I took him there- and- and I got him off of me and… the Dark did the rest.”
“Go on,” Theo encouraged.
Laith shook his head and wrapped his arms around himself, clearly unwilling to say more.
Theo was suddenly very grateful that Laith was the type to value human life. He’d make the perfect assassin if he wanted to.
Theo, Beatrice, and Mateo exchanged looks. “Am I under arrest?” Laith asked wearily.
“No,” said Mateo, his voice firm.
“It was self defense,” agreed Beatrice. “And I don't think any jury would convict you anyway.”
“Okay.”
Laith sounded so tired, and his frame was so small. Theo put a gentle hand on his shoulder, attempting to comfort.
“What do you want to do?” he asked, quiet.
Laith leaned into his leg, something Theo was sure he’d never do a mere few hours ago.
“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “He’s really just… gone.”
Theo empathized. Laith hadn’t said how long he was under Nightclaw’s boot, but it was long enough that he must feel directionless without him.
“You could come back with us,” suggested Mateo. “We have room.”
Laith turned to look at him, blinking slowly. “I’m not a hero,” he said slowly, as if he thought Mateo was an idiot. “ And I’m not exactly useful.”
“You don’t have to be,” assured Theo.
Laith stood up, legs shaky. “That’s not how the world works,” he protested weakly.
Beatrice and Mateo gave each other a look.
“Who cares?” she shrugged.
“I care!” Laith’s leg went out from under him, and Theo caught him under the arms.
“Do you think I can just-” he waved a hand around, wincing, “-stick around and, what, hope you don’t do something to me? That’s not how any of this works! Not out there, not in prison, not anywhere!”
Theo slung Laith’s arm around his shoulders, and he didn’t struggle despite his outburst.
Laith panted, tears dripping off his bruised jaw.
“Fine then. I guess you’ll just be our prisoner,” said Mateo, strangely nonchalant. Beatrice stepped away from him, shock on her face. Theo gaped at him, and Laith nodded as if his point was proven.
“You’ll have to get used to regular meals and healthcare, though. It’s policy for such horrible criminals like you,” continued Mateo, and Theo caught on.
Beatrice smacked Mateo on the shoulder. Mateo winced. “Ow!” He rubbed at the spot.
Laith tilted his head back to look at the sky. “Fuck you guys,” he said, without any bite.
Theo took that as a yes.
___________________
Charlie was thrilled to finally have a permanent roommate in the complex, but it was months before Laith fully ventured out of his corner of the base for more than a quick shower.
Theo wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment, resentment, or both.
But now, he often tinkered in Theo’s shop. Sometimes he even offered to assist if he was in a good mood.
Theo occasionally caught him reading in a corner, or cooking in the kitchen. Laith made a mean lasagna and worked wonders with just beans and rice. Things that Theo wouldn’t have guessed he cared to do.
On the other hand, he still flinched at most touches and unexpected company, and small static shocks could send him spiraling into panic.
Theo installed a humidifier and removed the carpets to minimize the zaps, and everyone made sure not to accidentally sneak up on each other. Honestly, they should have taken care of that earlier anyway.
Laith also hated surprises, preferred quiet, and was always there to help Charlie patch the team up.
It worked for them. Laith wasn’t in the field, but no one would argue he wasn’t part of the team.
___________________
“Hey,” greeted Theo, grabbing a mug from the cabinets. Laith was making some pasta. Pesto, from the looks of the sauce gently bubbling on the stove.
“Nope,” Laith shook his head, “not sharing.”
“Do I look like Charlie?”
Laith snorted.
Theo filled the mug with water and put it in the microwave. Mateo got onto him about making tea in the microwave, but honestly Theo couldn’t taste the difference that he insisted was there.
The microwave dinged, and Theo plopped in the teabag.
“I’m setting a timer for three minutes,” he warned Laith.
“Thanks.”
Laith drained the pasta, and poured the noodles into the pan of sauce. He folded the pasta into the sauce, sprinkling it with the good parm.
The timer went off.
Theo took out the teabag and dumped in two heaping teaspoons of sugar. He stirred it and took a sip. Laith grabbed a fork and started eating right out of the pan. A habit of his; to avoid cleaning more dishes. Something about wasting water, even though Theo had made a very efficient dishwasher for the kitchen.
“Hey,” said Theo, putting his mug down on the counter. “Are we friends?”
Laith stabbed some more pasta with his fork.
“What are you talking about?”
Theo shrugged. “I was just wondering.” He picked up his tea again. He tried not to be disappointed as he sipped at it.
Laith rolled his eyes. “Yeah we’re friends. You think I just stick around for the free room and board?”
Theo smiled at him.
“Sap,” scoffed Laith.
Theo took another sip of his sugary tea, as Laith shoveled more pasta into his mouth like a starving man.
Laith had called him sentimental, naive, soft-hearted, and a sap, more times than he could count.
It was Laith-speak for love, a substitute for the ‘I-care-about-yous’. Just like how ‘don’t die’ really meant ‘please be careful’.
Laith rinsed out the pan before putting it in the dishwasher and leaving.
Theo watched him go. He finished his tea, closing his eyes.
He replayed it in his mind. “Yeah, we’re friends.”
Theo smiled to himself.
He’d always been a sucker for happy endings.
taglist: @paintedpigeon1 @loserwithsyle @cepheusgalaxy @ohwrite
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