#with halsin... it's something else

[imaginary-wanderer]

I know Halsin was supposed to be an NPC, but they really made his romance storyline the hardest to achieve. All the other characters almost jump on you for being a basic person for a bunch of days, but Halsin? You have to work to get him and I read you can even lose him just by changing location at some advance point of the game.

For this second playthrough, I hesitated between romancing him again or going for Gale... but since Gale won't share (and Halsin is more than happy to lol), I went for the bear once again. Sorry Gale, but you have a very good Tiefling friend.

[waterdeepthroat]

I am actually having so many thoughts about bg3 characters when it comes to body image bc themes of bodily autonomy are just so present in this game

[ride-a-dromedary]

The little imprint on Halsin's right arm above his other belt - likely just a model texture slip, or a little detail to suggest he was wearing two belts on the right as well at one point because they're perfectly straight and equal distance apart, varying levels of visible depending on the shot, like a pressure imprint mark. But he notably doesn't have a matching mark when he removes the belt on his other arm:

In that thread of musing, it looks a bit like a scar - older and more healed - so I'm going to HC it as one.

[vampcaprisun]

planning out a new tav who's eventually going to be with halsin and i can't decide if i want him to also romance astarion yet. i think they'd work really well together, but i've heard that if you romance someone else alongside halsin, they don't give you the chance to go with him at the end and i wanted this tav to be able to do that. at this point i'm just way too indecisive to choose.

[pinkyjulien]

THATS SO HGEZHUGUH WHO ARE THEY.....

[troublemakingrebel]

Baldur's Gate 3 experience if you're playing as a bard:

when you won a tough boss fight on the first try without save scamming:

when you did jack shit but you're a good boy™ anyway:

when you disarmed every trap, lockpicked every chest and pickpocketed every pocket without rolling a single critical failure in 5 minutes:

100/10, def recommend if you love to cry, sweat, bleed and 3D chess

[diluc33rpm]

the romance/relationship system in bg3 is genuinely some of the worst designed shit i've ever seen in any game with that feature but at least the memes we get out of it are funny. once saw someone comment something along the lines of 'patch note: waving at gale will no longer cause him to buy a house for the two of you to retire in' and i've never recovered since

[mokeonn]

I started an honor mode playthrough with probably the cutest tiefling in bg3 and I fuckn got killed during the Phase Spider Matriarch, so I decided to continue my save with dishonor because my character was just so damn cute. Well for some reason or another the game didn't?? Switch it to custom mode?? It's still honor mode??

So I'm either going to get those golden dice in the most dishonorable way possible or the game is just pulling on my leg and It's just honor mode without the reward.

[3gremlins]

i like how all the guides are like "noble/soldier" are the best backgrounds for a paladin and I'm like, shut your faces, kier's (they/he) bg is URCHIN which means they look out for kids/the downtrodden and have bonuses to sleight of hand checks. also they're a drow so you know that was an extra rough childhood. like i rented rooms in the elfsong just for fun and he got inspiration by like just having a real place to stay that wasn't the ground T.T it was neat that the camp moved indoors (including scratch and the owlbear lol, hopefully the inkeepers don't mind owlbear pellets lol)

anyway i really like a character choosing to be a paladin after having a harsh life, you know? it feels more earned than if they grew up in the lap of luxury (noble) or even if they're just a dutiful soldier following orders (*obvs* soldiers can have harsh lives too but the vibe is different). i like that there's so many lost kids in this game you can help too (i realize the guides are just like "oh this bg gives you helpful bonuses" but i think it's more fun to play against type sometimes)

[apricote]

lmaooooo kissing halsin in public and astarion being like, "don't mind me, i'm just enjoying the show", he's so Funny sometimes

[invinciblerodent]

getting a little bit obsessed with my "cottagecore throuple" here, because the more I think about it, the more disgustingly perfect and idyllic the whole thing is to me.

like... post-game, I like to imagine Shadowheart absolutely thriving. She's a city girl with a deep love for animals, and spotty- to nil memories, most of which are of the worst things to have ever happened in a dank torture-basement: of course a sweet, picturesque forest cottage (so far I like to think that Petyr would call it "The Hovel", even though it's by all means a cozy, nice hunter's lodge) would have her downright giddy, and she deserves every ounce of that happiness ever.

As I imagine it, when not enthusiastically learning all there is to learn about the quasi-self-sustaining life (that she had dropped herself into by shacking up with a literal forest ranger), she spends as much time outside as possible: walks barefoot in the tall grass, stops to smell every flower (and even plants quite a few, just by the vegetables), and lays in the soft underbrush for hours at a time- enjoying the sunlight caressing her face, enjoying a nice novel (and/or a cuddle with Scratch, the cub, or her boyfriend once he sits down for a moment), or just gazing up at the moon and stars in silent worship. She makes friends with every animal that crosses her path, too: SO many potions of animal speaking are consumed, it's absurd. (She's best friends with the chickens. Petyr has to start farming acorn truffles in the basement for her, and that even proves actually very lucrative- in town, that shit sells for like 10-20 gold a pop.)

She'd of course bring home everything that'll let her. Little wildflower bouquets and stuff at first, but also every critter: from juvenile racoons just weaned from their mothers (they look almost like kittens! how cute!), to elderly foxes that just want to curl up in front of the fire and warm their bones somewhere safe for a moment. She's having the time of her goddamn life, she's learning a shitton of life skills she was never taught (finally learning things not meant to make her better at hurting people!), and generally enjoying a life that, while still plagued by remnants of the past (night terrors, perpetrator trauma, loss, grief, pains both suffered and inflicted, all that great stuff), has her feeling actually content with her lot in it.

And with all this, Petyr is... very business as usual, or at least he's trying to pretend that he is. Having someone in what was his space for like 20 years is strange initially, but if there's one thing he's used to, it's adapting. Making things work. (Plus, he's like, happy, or whatever. In love. You know, that sort of rot.)

Then again, he's also used to only having to feed himself with the very little he has, not another (especially another who is inexperienced at this type of thing, and a second another who just... drops by sometimes, always unannounced and unexpected, but never unwelcome), which deep down does have him a bit (a lot) more antsy about not just being the self-appointed guardian of her happiness, but also just... their general survival.

He's keenly aware that winters in the wild are never especially easy, not when you're so far removed from the safety of a community- especially not the way he's used to being alone, without even magic to keep you warm and safe. Usually, he spends most of the year primarily occupied by preparing for winter, and even like that, there have been lean years: years when he got snowed in for tendays, when he did something stupid and all the careful prep went down the shitter, years he had to go hungry and learn to make do with next to nothing.

So he compensates for- (and distracts himself from-) that anxiety by making extra sure that the pantry is stocked to bursting with all the goods there can be, and they often head out into the woods to hunt and forage together- although he's not a great (or even a good) teacher, Shadowheart (usually Shadow, often Heart, lately Jen or Jenny in affection) does make what he used to do out of sheer need, into something also done for fun.

Hunting and foraging are fun now, and soon, the cabinets are overflowing with jars and jars of dry mushrooms, so much homemade deer jerky, jams and jellies and pickles galore... there's mead fermenting, and homemade soap curing before it can be used, firewood stacked to the height of a person... herb bundles, garlic braids, grain corn, and drying peppers are strung up on the rafters like fragrant fairy lights.

Meanwhile, I imagine that Halsin comes and goes as he pleases- not entirely unlike a beloved stray cat. He just shows up one evening as if he had left not tendays, but only a few hours ago, kicks the duff or mud or snow off his boots, and leans his staff into its habitual nook by the door. He sets whatever it is that he brought this time in its appropriate place (be it otherwise unobtainable goods from town, or just a little gift, a treat to enjoy together), and he sinks into the worn-out armchair by the fireplace that was declared his the first time he stayed.

One of the others almost always then strolls by to settle wordlessly on his lap (if not both of them- that poor chair can barely take the combined weight), and just relax as his big, warm fingers slowly work through the knots and ties keeping their hair out of their faces, and, voice rumbling deep in his chest, he tells them all that has happened in Reithwin the past while.

The many smells of dinner and the comforting scent of pipe tobacco mingle with the fragrant herbs and the crackling fire then, and creates something that can only be described as the scent of home.

.............. and then all three just fuck absolute NASTY every day, in every configuration, and on every surface available for the next, oh, month or so.

[ride-a-dromedary]

*lies on the floor thinking about how Halsin still thinks about his mom and dad*

something something no matter how old someone is, they were someone's baby once

[leavemetoplaythesims]

trying to play bg3 is like walking in to a brick wall right now, i think i'm all decided on what to do and then i second guess myself or have a different idea and it's a mess.

[stillness138]

thinking about how i didn't even meet all of the tieflings back at the grove because all outdoor areas are a slideshow for me but ended up resolving the entire conflict by just downing the goblin camp leaders with halsin and suddenly at the party the people i spoke to for the first time already saw tav as someone to look up to

thinking about how the character i made has spent half of her life in near complete seclusion and the limitations of my laptop can be justified as social anxiety induced need to just streamline business in the grove as much as possible

thinking about how ever since killing minthara and starting to wear her armor tav has looked a lot more comfortable too, especially in comparison to whenever the game switched for camp clothes

yeah i think this one will be about confidence

[bruinescence]

Rhys can see how defeated Halsin looks after retrieving Thaniel from the Shadowfell. Though he has never been skilled at consoling others, he wishes he could find the appropriate words to comfort him. He is always at a loss for words and frequently exacerbates the issue. But when he notices how defeated his partner appears, his own heart hurts. Rhys is aware of his companion's melancholy, even if he seems to be acting normally.

He pauses and then comes up behind Halsin. Eventually, without saying a word, he puts his arms around his partner's tall form and holds him close. Though he can't recall the last time he gave a hug, it seems appropriate at the moment. He maintains his companion close by pressing his face against his back, but he allows the other man to release his embrace if he so chooses.

With the coincidence of an illithid invasion co-aligning with the shadow curse in ways he could not have imagined some hundred years ago when both light and life choking darkness was unleashed upon a segment of the Sword Coast, it was difficult for the Archdruid to untangle the images of poor travelers- some Drow, a few tieflings, and any other wanderer that approached the grove with the desperation of needing healing in the confusing and oft hopeless time of their infection. Even after he'd left the grove to follow Aridan to the Goblin camp for answers regarding the strange phenomena that he had not taken into consideration due to his own fixation on the shadow curse and freeing Thaniel above all other matters, he'd left Nettie in the care of a body he'd carried in and placed upon her examination slab.

The Drow had been just as fearful as the others- losing himself slowly to the parasite that seemed to plague the minds of their victims much like the shadow curse haunted his own. It was no use- he could tell. The lad was too far gone to the squirming creature behind his eye, and since an Archdruid couldn't very well leave such a beast to transform in the grove in his absence...he brought Nettie the body with its neck twisted harshly to the side, cradling it against his chest before depositing it to her care. She always told him she could never do the same in his absence...her heart had yet hardened, and hopefully with his guardianship, it never would.

It was the Drow he thought of when carrying Thaniel's lifeless body back to camp, careful of his step along the path to keep from jostling the fae child too harshly. Perhaps the gods were laughing at him...mocking him with a sight of his own brutality, though he had not harmed the boy of his own accord. His actions and his delay had caused this.

With the boy tucked into a bed roll and hidden behind a few crates in his tent, Halsin stared wordlessly ahead, deep in a thought that he could not allow himself the luxury to trance into and relax past stiff shoulders. He had failed Thaniel once more-...but he would not dare make a third habit of it, even if it cost him another hundred years of his life. The feeling of arms encircling him gave the druid a subtle start- much like a beast with fur flaring, though his shoulders were merely stiffer than before as he steeled himself against the embrace.

After a moment of deciding if he should really allow the more pious among them to gather him with a shepherd's grip, he relented and felt the tensest muscles in his back relax...or rather, droop into his frame- defeated. "I won't rest until I've washed my hands of this damnable stain. I have promises to keep...and miles to go before I sleep."

[kellerybird]

normally the big beefy fatherly types don't do anything for me but good lordt halsin does something to me on god