#Truly just trying to articulate that I am ultimately fine with the beat itself and I think it has good meat on it and I get what it is

[wardensantoineandevka]

Yeah, I think at the end of it. I get, understand, and agree that the narrative moment we're at is "Bells Hells, feeling they don't have the resources to fight Ludinus a second time today and still uncertain about the central question of what is to be done about the gods in Exandria, move toward Predathos in an attempt to control a situation they feel is inevitable. Imogen feels she has to make the choice to accept it into herself because Predathos is still moving toward her and the Ruidusborn, tragically boxing her into this because she feels she has no other meaningful choices." Great, amazing, I totally understand this, and it is a natural beat and one that coheres as a culmination of the campaign. It's actually a pretty great beat in summary.

The frustrating thing ultimately feels to be the execution, because it constantly feels like the story is meandering from beat to beat after an incredibly long series of meanderings over the course of the campaign. It's ultimately fine the characters feel uncertain, but the storytelling itself feels uncertain as well about what it is doing and that is less fine. Every decision is made with a sort of timid "I suppose that's the thing to do, I don't really know" at the table level without a very clear sense of what they're moving toward narratively, and that's really more of the problem. It's undercutting what is otherwise a really great direction.

Decisions don't feel like they have teeth because the storytelling is so hesitant about whether it's the right direction to take, so the needed feeling of stakes, inevitability, tragedy, suffocating circumstance don't exist in the way they should to give what's happening the needed sense of clarity. It feels like we're all moving through a bog in a not fun way because the story itself isn't sure what it's moving toward even in a sense of vibes or structurally. moving confidently and toward a tragedy in a sense of trapping the characters and cornering them would've done wonders, but instead it kinda has the feeling of trying to unroll a carpet dramatically and it just kinda slowly stops. Like, it's a slow drift down a lazy river instead of feeling dragged out with the tide.

It is a really great beat to have Imogen accepting Predathos because she feels she doesn't have any other choice in the series of pressures occurring right now. But, the pressure doesn't really feel like it exists because it all feels disconnected from the moment or too gently / abstractly applied or too slow to be framed, and the inevitability aspect doesn't feel like it's quite standing because narrative inevitability comes from momentum and strong storytelling intent and purpose, and it's never felt like this campaign has had that. The storytelling is hesitant and uncertain, so the tragedy doesn't quite come through on experience of the moment, even when it does come through in summary.

And that's more the frustrating thing. It's a good beat executed a little too uncertainly. The choice itself for the character is a good one, but it — like much of the campaign — feels like it lacks a storyteller trust in the narrative or trust in the choice itself to make it really feel satisfying as an execution. I genuinely wonder if that's ultimately what I'm bouncing off of, the fact that it doesn't feel like the table is trusting in the narrative or trusting the choices they're making for the story or trusting in themselves and each other to carry through the story they’re telling, so the intentionality and purpose feel off and it's stripping a great beat of its power by making it feel hesitant at a narrative mechanics level.

[gastricpierrot]

Title: Heartbeat

Series: Promare

Pairing: GaloLio

Rating: T

Summary:

Lio turns himself in after the final battle, the start of a new life he must get used to.

This is a story of how Lio Fotia navigates through the days that follow, learns that support comes in more forms than he’s ever familiar with, and deals with his alarmingly developing feelings for Galo Thymos.

Also on AO3

[Prologue][Chapter 1]

[Chapter 2]

Immediate action is taken after Lio threatened the bastard, which he thinks is pretty ironic considering how long he had had to put up with his antics.

At the very least, Lio doesn’t seem to be the one judged as the problem, since he gets to stay in his usual cell while the bastard gets assigned to another wing in the building where they are pretty much guaranteed to never cross paths again. Guess sexual harassment remains a worse offense than petty bullying.

Lio is surprised, though, to find out how many people in his hallway approves of what he’s caused. On the morning of the announcement itself, Lio has about three inmates catching his gaze and giving him understanding nods and smiles and even some thumbs up. It’s the first time Lio’s felt any sort of solidarity with the other inmates, and he’s not sure if that’s a good thing. He doesn’t want to judge anyone at this point. They’ve all got their own reasons why they’re there.

With Bastard out of the way, Lio finally attains ultimate peace in his inmate life. No one to bother him in hours of the morning when he’s still barely feeling human, no one to cause him to miss meals and starve through the nights. And most importantly, no one to put their filthy hands on him.

The only shame is that Lio really would have loved to break the bastard’s fingers, given the chance, but he digresses. There are perhaps other methods of anger management.

So time passes, as it always does. Lio works, learns and grows. His body eventually stops aching as much after a day of construction work. His jumpsuits start fitting a little better, his pants no longer needing to be rolled up as many times around his ankles. His hair has grown enough to go past his shoulders on a few occasions, and he’s been requesting to cut it short after realizing how difficult it is to maintain lengthier hair in a facility that provides the barest of necessities. The fanciest things Lio has seen to date are the scented hand soap provided in the washrooms near the cafeteria.

Lio admits that he does make the effort to go all the way there to use them when he can. Even the sterile scent of lemon and lime is better than the moldy, sour stench of an insufficiently ventilated building. Just more insignificant things to appreciate, just more things to get used to.

And a year and a half after the battle that led to the final Promare Blaze, Lio finds himself watching the news report on Kray Foresight’s official imprisonment.

It had taken time to finalize his sentence mostly because of his prominent position as the Governor. Lio doesn’t understand all the details himself, but it apparently takes a ton of processes to go through when the head of state is the one who’s being convicted. Lio hears that Kray had been mostly cooperative, though, and that he’d easily admitted to the charges pressed against him.

Lio hated—and still hates—Kray Foresight for all he’s done to his people. He's subjected them to human experimentation, encouraged their oppression, and even attempted genocide of the Burnish by using them as fuel for the Parnassus. Lio had, with all his being, wanted to rip him apart with his own two hands. Kray had repeatedly tried to take away everyone and everything that mattered to him. Lio can never forgive him, never wants to forgive him.

Which is why he doesn’t understand how empty he feels while watching the segment covering Kray’s imprisonment on television. There’s no satisfaction, no gratification despite seeing how karma has finally passed her judgement. Perhaps part of him wants Kray to received worse punishment than simply going to jail. He had killed, had lied and manipulated his way to the top. He deserves more than just being locked up somewhere for the rest of his life.

Galo visits the day after the news broke.

He's much more sullen than usual, which isn’t something unexpected. Lio knows how much Galo had idolized the man, how he’d lived a lie throughout his most formative years. He can’t imagine how it feels like to discover that your hero had actually been the one who’d orphaned you, that the person you admired the most in the world and want most to be proud of you—to turn out so sick and deluded. Even Lio had felt a little bad when he shoved the truth into his face back then. It definitely couldn’t have been something easy to accept.

Galo is kind; in that foolish, naïve, yet straightforward way of his. He has so much heart to give, and therefore also so much to break.

“You okay?” Lio can’t help but ask when Galo trails off from a bit of small talk he’d managed to muster. Galo glances at him, and laughs nervously.

“Yeah,” he says, so unconvincingly that he shouldn’t even have bothered. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Lio chews on his lip, desperately grasping for a change of topic. But what? What would be a good one that wouldn’t sound too awkward? This is too sudden. If only Galo could’ve told him in advance that he’s visiting then maybe he could’ve had some time to brainstorm—

“Lio.” This time, the call of his name is followed by a huff with that sounds like genuine amusement. “You look like you’re having trouble pooping.”

“Well maybe I am? Mind your own business,” Lio snaps, mostly out of instinct and a bit out of panic the moment his thoughts dissipate. They stare at each other for a few seconds, before one of them cracks and they mutually dissolve into a string of chuckles. The atmosphere finally lightens slightly.

“It’s okay, Lio,” Galo assures once more, his shoulders losing a bit of tension in them. “I really am fine.”

Lio studies his face, trying to read this expression he’s wearing that he’s so unfamiliar with. Even Galo, with his endless passion and energy and brilliance, has this side to him.

“I’m sorry you had to experience everything you did because of him,” Lio offers, holding Galo’s gaze. “You don’t deserve what he put you through.”

“O-Oh.” Galo seems taken aback—slightly embarrassed, even. He breaks eye contact first, reaching to knead his fingers against his nape. “Thanks? Though really, it’s nothing compared to what he’s done to the Burnish and—”

“Galo.” Lio stops him, working to stamp down the sudden rise of anger in his chest. He doesn’t like where this is going. He continues despite Galo’s refusal to meet his eyes. “It’s not something that can be compared. You still feel what you feel. Your emotions are not any less valid.”

“I just—” Galo cuts himself off with a sigh, frowning as he stumbles for words. Lio wonders if they should stop this conversation, if maybe Galo really isn’t prepared to talk about this just yet after all. But Galo speaks again before he can say anything about it, voice even softer than before. “I just don’t know if I have the right to feel this way.”

Lio frowns. “Galo—”

“You don’t understand, Lio,” Galo barrels on before Lio can interject. He seems to be in so much conflict with himself, torn even just trying to articulate it.  “I know he’s done many horrible things; I’ve seen it with my own eyes. He's a bastard who would do anything for the sake of money and glory. And yet I...” he digs his nails into the skin of his neck, “I still catch myself hoping that isn’t all to it. That all his lies and actions had a good reason behind them. That deep down, he’d truly wanted to save the human race.”

The bitter little laugh he then lets out brings an ache to Lio’s chest.

“I really am an idiot, aren’t I?”

Lio doesn’t respond immediately. He knows he can’t, not when this topic is so complicated and delicate to Galo. As he thinks about it, Lio realizes that he and Kray Foresight really aren’t that much different in some regard. They both did bad things for a cause they thought was good.

But he also knows that good reasons don’t always justify bad actions.

“You’re an idiot for beating yourself up over something you have no control over, yes.”

Galo winces, but Lio isn’t done. “Again, what you feel is valid despite how wrong you may think it is. But I believe that it’s how you react to your emotions that matters more. What do you intend to do about them, Galo? Will you just sit around and mope forever? Or will you continue doing what you’re best at and prove that he doesn’t have control over you even now?”

More contemplative silence. But this time, Galo finally looks at him again.

“You know that’s not even a question,” he protests, and Lio hopes he’s right to think that he looks a little more relieved than before. Galo takes a deep breath, and puffs out his chest for the first time that afternoon. “My soul must burn on, no matter what happens. I’ll have to work even harder at helping everyone who’s been affected.”

“That’s the Galo I know,” Lio approves, heart lifting at the sight of him being a bit of his usual self again. It truly takes moments like these to remind him to appreciate the cheer and energy Galo normally radiates around him despite what he’s been going through internally.

“Thanks, Lio. For listening,” Galo says, then moving to stand up when he sees the guard outside getting ready to kick him out once again. Lio crosses his arms and leans back against his chair.

“It’s the least I can do,” he smiles, but he doesn’t seem to be able to keep it up very long. He quickly speaks again before Galo can notice it. “But really, Galo. You must remember to take care of yourself, too.”

“I’m not too worried about that, honestly,” Galo admits, “I’ve got you to help me with that.”

Lio blinks. “Galo, I don’t know if you realize, but I’m still in detention and I’m not the most accessible person at the moment.”

“Yeah, but even just a short time with you like this make me feel a whole ton better!” Galo insists, and Lio finds that he can seriously never argue with him for long.

“You really are a weird one,” is what he settles with, which earns him an impish grin from Galo. “Now go, idiot. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

xXx

Tomorrows. Lio eventually runs out of tomorrows to spend in the detention center.

His sentence lasts five years. It seems short compared to the damage he’s done, but it’s something that’s been desperately fought for by the people who cares for him.

The night before his release, Lio lies awake trying to sort out what exactly he’s feeling. There’s excitement, of course. He can’t wait to reunite with his friends, catch up with all that has been going on, ease back into the comfort of their companionship. Feel like he’s actually part of something again. It’s great that he’s been able to somewhat keep up with the general idea of what’s going on with them through media reports, but it’s also brought with it an inevitable sense of separation. Out there, life moves on without him. While the others struggle back on their feet, Lio has been coddled in the detention center.

He's... suddenly not quite sure how he’d be able to face them. Does he really have the right to when he’s been having the privilege of staying under stable shelter and not having to worry about the daunting uncertainties of the near future for the past few years? Can he really say that he’s served his punishment when he’s probably been having it easier than many of the former Burnish who have been trying their hardest to assimilate back into a society that once saw them as nothing but monsters and terrorists?

These thoughts aren’t something new. His brain, in fact, would always steer this direction whenever it occurs to him how at peace he’s feeling despite being in detention. Lio has only ever been running away instead of facing them, convincing himself that there’s nothing he can do about it while he’s still there. Even if he mulls over it for days and months and even years, what is done is done. He can no longer change the fact that he is where he is. He's come too far to start regretting.

But now there’s no other option but to face them, no excuses left for him to escape. And Lio is just as lost as ever.

Morning still comes; it always does. Lio listens as the alarms blare to signal the start of the day for the other inmates, as cell doors slide open and groggy yawns and groans fill the hallway along with the shuffle of feet. He listens until there’s nothing left to listen to but his own breathing and heartbeat in his ears.

Lio later has his breakfast brought straight to his cell by an expressionless guard. Even though he’s scheduled to be released in literally a few hours, he isn’t allowed to leave the room. The door will only unlock when it’s time for him to meet the head warden at the office.

Lio doesn’t want to bother thinking too much into it, so he doesn’t. He's making enough effort just trying to swallow and stomach the usual sandwiches and milk, both made even blander by his nerves. He ends up pacing around his cell until he hears the lock disabling, and even then he catches himself trying to stall for time by folding his blanket repeatedly because “the corners don’t perfectly align”.

He's being extremely ridiculous. He knows. He’s going to be free again, for God’s sake! He's not so much of a coward that he’d rather stay in a prison equivalent than face the reality he’s been mostly shielded from all these years.

Except maybe he is. A little bit. Quite a little bit.

Lio’s asked to sign some documents at the office, then he’s reminded that he’s still on probation for another year after he’s released. Although its recording functions will be permanently disabled, his movements can still be tracked by the chip in his ankle. Lio’s later given a set of plain civilian clothes which he changes into on the spot, as well as his own identification card once the rest of the briefing is out of the way.

And then with absolutely no ceremony at all, he’s dismissed.

Lio walks towards the detention center gates. Through them, with no one running up to stop him. It’s been five years since he has the right to go wherever he wanted. It hasn’t quite sunk in, what’s happening. But he’s sure it will, eventually. Eventually.

He's there of course. Just as he’s always been, always waiting for him from afar. It may be arrogant of Lio to never have even doubted it.

Galo’s standing close to his parked bike, squinting at his cellphone under the late morning sun. He looks up when Lio calls out to him, and in that moment, the weight in Lio’s chest lifts enough for him to breathe.

And with that, the first day of Lio’s next new life begins with a wave and a bright call of his name from Galo Thymos.