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LOCKED TO istheindustry

Summer was coming to Johto, and quite frankly, Logan was glad it was nearly here. He had been spending his time up north with Reaver, travelling to Mahogany Town, a remote little town that housed one of the Gym Badges they were in the process of collecting. Logan hadn't expected it to be so cold, even in spring. Finally it was beginning to feel like that awkward transition phase between spring and summer, and the heat was a welcome change.

They had arrived in Mahogany last night and had spent the better part of the day travelling to the Lake of Rage. Both of them had seen it on the map, but Logan hadn't expressed any desire to visit it until they had stopped in Mahogany. Yes, he understood that the badge challenge was important (he was the one who had been so determined to start collecting the badges anyway), but the badge wasn't going anywhere. Neither was the lake, but that didn't change the fact that he wanted to see it for himself.

Logan had always loved the water. The royal family had a small place in Millfields that they visited during the summers when the Hero Queen simply couldn't stand the heat anymore. Logan had loved exploring Bower Lake as a child, and it was something that never really left him even after all this time. He had only been to Bower Lake a couple of times since he took the throne, and had only brought his sister with him once. They had both been a bit too old to frolic in the ocean like children - at least, that was what they said until night fell and they were certain they wouldn't be spotted by any of the nobles that lived in the area. He remembered that evening fondly; but there were very few things about his sister he didn't remember fondly.

He brushed that thought aside, not interested in dwelling on the past. It never ended well. He was here in Johto now; he had to look out for himself - and only himself - though it was still something he was in the process of learning how to do. He was getting used to not having control over people, but taking care of himself was still something Logan hadn't really adapted to.

That said, he did look quite a lot healthier than he had in Albion. The darkness was still present around his eyes - and likely would always be, he was tainted, after all - but he had put on a bit of weight and the constant travel was doing some good for him physically. Of course, it didn't help that he was travelling with Reaver who would run on ahead if he was allowed. Logan still had difficulties keeping up with the ever-energetic industrialist, but he hadn't reached his breaking point yet.

The travelling today had been relatively light and easy; there were trainers to fight and plenty of grass to wade through, so speeding to their destination was out of the question. He was thankful for that. It did put them a bit behind schedule though; they would have to spend the night up at the Lake of Rage and return to Mahogany in the morning, but Logan really couldn't say he minded that any. If the lake was anything like Bower Lake, then he doubted he'd want to leave so soon anyway.

Speaking of the lake, it finally came into view amid the trees and Logan stopped short, staring. It was huge, possibly even larger than Bower Lake. The water looked clean and clear from where he was standing (though admittedly, it was still a bit hard to judge and it could just be wistful thinking on his part) and the shores were completely clear, no people anywhere in sight. Apparently this wasn't a very popular tourist destination for whatever reason. Logan found himself releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding, glancing side-long at Reaver for some sort of confirmation that the industrialist was as pleased with this as he was.

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Logan didn't respond right away, merely watching Reaver remove his gloves. Yes, of course he was waiting for something. He wasn't going to be the first to make a fool of himself, but it seemed as though Reaver didn't have any sort of stipulations about that. Well, with an ego his size, that was hardly surprising.

"No," He finally remarked, moving to unbuckle the breastplate so he wouldn't have to look at Reaver, "of course not."

The battle with the Crawler had left Logan scarred in multiple places - his hands, arms, and chest had taken the majority of the damage, but there were a few scars that went as high as his neck and as low as his legs. He was fully aware that removing enough clothing would invite questions - or at least, it would have invited questions back home. He had insisted on wearing his full regal attire even in training sessions, simply because he didn't want to deal with the questions that would follow.

Reaver was different though. There were times when Logan felt he could read the man like a book and other times when he had absolutely no idea what Reaver would say or do. This was one of the latter; Reaver knew that he had faced the Crawler and lived, so it was likely Reaver would connect the dots on his own without mentioning it, but Logan still wasn't keen on the idea of dealing with whatever Reaver might decide to mention, should he decide to mention anything at all.

The hesitance was probably obvious after he removed the breastplate. That was set aside with his belongings and Logan fingered his collar uncertainly, frowning at the water rather than his companion. There was really no need to get so worked up about this. He was being ridiculous. Reaver knew better than to say anything, right? Right. Of course.

The gloves were removed first, revealing a thick scar on the back of his left hand and a few small ones on his right, but otherwise there wasn't anything particularly interesting there. He had always preferred wearing gloves, but they had become a necessity after the battle with the Crawler. Again, people would ask questions he couldn't answer. They had asked more than enough questions about the scar on his lip, after all. Logan hesitated for another moment before finally tugging the shirt off and neatly folding that, placing it with his other belongings and resting the gloves on top.

Unlike the much smaller scars on his hands and lip, the scars across Logan's chest were long and thick, clearly the result of swords rather than scratches. He never spent too long looking in the mirror; he would undoubtedly begin to panic, that maybe the shadows hadn't been the cause of these scars but that his own men had turned against him before they died. He didn't remember enough of the battle to tell one way or another. It terrified him. It wasn't exactly vanity that bothered him, but rather the idea that he didn't know just how he had received all of these scars and lived. Even now he wasn't sure if the Crawler had let him escape for some darker purpose.

It was a terrifying thought, and with a deep breath, Logan pushed it aside. He wasn't going to dwell on it.

The last things removed were Logan's boots, which were tossed aside impatiently as he approached the water. Focusing on the Crawler and what had happened in Shadelight wouldn't do him any good and he was eager for the distraction the lake could bring. Logan didn't hesitate any longer, he simply dived on in, submerging himself completely before popping back up and slicking his hair back behind his ears, pausing for a moment to tug at the strands in the habitual gesture of frustration he hadn't quite gotten control over yet.

At least the water was nice. A bit cool, perhaps, but nice none the less.

To his credit, Reaver didn't say anything; for all appearances, he didn't seem to be paying that much attention as Logan undressed, keeping his head bowed slightly as he worked open the fastenings on the double-breasted coat he had taken to wearing - lighter than the one that had been brought here with him from Albion, but still enough to be obnoxious as the water went. However, while it seemed that his eyes were kept downcast, the fringe cut into the front of his hair made it rather difficult to tell exactly what his gaze was focused on, and to say that he wasn't stealing more than a few glances would have been a complete and utter lie.

Reaver wasn't unfamiliar with scarring, though he had very few himself - while his hands were marked up quite a bit, Resurrection Phials had been good to him, while his stock had lasted; even without them, he had augmented his guns years ago, and with Renewal and Power of Money on his primary weapon, he almost never scarred on a permanent basis and he was quick to recover from injuries (assuming, of course, that there were more people around to be shot, and there almost always were). The scarring on Logan's body was hideous, there was no denying that, and Reaver didn't want to look at all of it for very long; at the very least, Logan was correct in his assumption that the industrialist would know to hold his tongue regarding any remarks he may have wanted to make regarding it. He didn't ask him anything, because in the end, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know; the idea that Logan would actually tell him was less pleasant than the thought of never knowing at all, and so he contented himself with shrugging that jacket off once he'd gotten the clasps open, allowing it to slip off his shoulders haphazardly and leaving that with his gloves. The boots obviously weren't going to stay on either, but everything else was quite frankly clothing that he found he did not give a single damn about; he was quick to join Logan in the water, the coldness of it providing a rather pleasurable shock to his system before he surfaced again, running his hands immediately through the front of his hair to get it out of his eyes - his hair had been getting annoyingly long during his stay here, he would have to cut it eventually, but for the time being he was content to deal with it for a while longer.

He shook his head a bit before running his hands through his hair one last time; there...certainly were Magikarp in this lake, a few of them seeming mildly alarmed a few feet out because of the sudden presence of people, but otherwise? This was nice, actually.

"Really, if I didn't know any better I'd say this place was finally putting an effort in to endear itself to us, what with places like this cropping up along this little journey of ours."

Reaver didn't say anything, but to be quite honest, Logan wasn't sure if that was any better or worse. Now he would just be anticipating some sort of remark, even if it never actually happened. It would certainly dampen this experience a bit if he spent the whole time waiting on something that might not happen at all. Besides, he had no reason to suspect that Reaver's remarks would be negative; Reaver had lived for a long time, surely he had received a scar or two during that time? It didn't matter and he was thinking far too deeply into this.

"It would have to try much harder to get over the initial kidnapping." Logan replied, the response coming easy and sounding more amused than he looked. "It isn't all bad, but it isn't Albion."

It wasn't really something he stopped to think about, but he did miss Albion. He missed his sister, the subjects (and even their petty relationship quests), the castle, and yes, even his power (not that he'd have that for much longer, but that was hardly the point). He had gotten used to this place, but no matter how good it was, it wasn't home. He didn't ever express just how homesick he was - he saw no reason to and he doubted Reaver would understand and he certainly wouldn't care - but for a brief moment he considered saying something more on the subject.

He shrugged it off, instead focusing on trailing his fingers through the water, watching that rather than Reaver. "Thank you for agreeing to this on such short notice." He hadn't properly expressed his gratitude for that earlier. Of course he could have come up here alone, but the idea of going anywhere alone now bothered him. Maybe it was the fact that ghosts and Psychic-types could be just about anywhere and they could cause a panic attack at any moment, but the idea of being alone genuinely scared him for some reason. He hadn't felt this way back home. Too often he would lock himself away from other people and seek out solitude. He didn't understand why things were so different here.

But it didn't matter now. Reaver seemed content to follow him when he wanted to go somewhere, and he was perfectly fine following Reaver when the industrialist got it in his head to go tearing off somewhere else. It was almost sad when he could count on Reaver more than anyone else. But then again, that wasn't really any different than it had been in Albion, was it?

"Someone has to keep an eye on you, my dear," Reaver said, rolling his eyes as he spoke, though his words were light, obviously teasing. "And it's not as though this is something I'm opposed to, besides."

There wasn't much of a shift in his expression after that was out there, but despite the usual smirk, there was a bit of an odd look in his eyes when he looked at Logan again; whether it was idle curiosity or something else was a bit difficult to say.

"This certainly isn't Albion, however; I won't disagree with that." He paused for a moment, glancing out over the expanse of the lake before continuing. "Still rather missing it, then, I'm assuming?"

Logan rolled his eyes; that remark didn't surprise him any, but in some ways, he did appreciate it.

It was Reaver's question that caught him off-guard, and for a moment Logan looked genuinely surprised before he managed to get his expression under control. "Is it that obvious?" That was a rhetorical question though, and he continued, "Yes, I do miss Albion. It's hard not to. This place has its charms but..." He trailed off, frowning. How did he explain this?

"It isn't home." He finished after a moment of thought. "The customs are different, the people are different, the very world itself is different. It is interesting, but it will never be familiar." He had no idea if any of this was making sense, but it was the only way he could think to describe it.

Reaver didn't answer that right away; for a good, long moment, he seemed rather inclined not to, actually, and the fact that he was back to his usual practice of not maintaining eye contact at all - he was looking just about everywhere but directly at Logan, really, the water, the trees, their belongings on the shore - really wasn't helping that impression any. However, when he did respond his tone made it clear that he'd been collecting his thoughts, rather than avoiding the remarks, and the words came fairly easily.

"Believe me, my dear, I understand entirely; I spent a good many years away from Albion's shores, and a good many years more before that convincing myself that I would really rather be anywhere else. I wouldn't trade any of my experiences for the world, mind you, and the countries I've explored have all been incredibly worth my while - though that does apply to some decidedly moreso than others..."

He trailed off for a moment, finally looking back at Logan; the smirk he was giving him was offset by that oddly focused look in his eyes.

"There really is nothing quite like returning home after all that, however."

The silence that spanned between them went uninterrupted. If he had said something stupid, Reaver would have let him know in no uncertain terms. No, Reaver was clearly trying to come up with some response, and Logan let him have all the time he needed to think. The water was nice and relaxing, and he was perfectly content to stare at that rather than his companion.

But Reaver did speak up eventually and Logan glanced up at him, tipping his head slightly to the side. He hadn't been aware that Reaver had left the country so frequently, but he supposed that did make sense. Albion could only prove to be entertaining for so long, he supposed.

"No, I imagine there wouldn't be."

Still, something about that struck him as wrong. It wasn't Reaver's words or even the odd look in the industrialist's eyes, it was the fact that at some point they would be returning home. They would have no memories of this place and everything would pick up where they had left it.

Logan suddenly found himself shaking with fear. He was quick to fold his arms in an attempt to hide just how badly his hands were shaking, but he broke eye contact immediately as well. He had a year until the Crawler attacked Albion. That wasn't what concerned him the most, however; what terrified him was that his sister would have to take the throne and deal with everything he had tried to do for the past four years. His sister would have to deal with the Crawler. His sister would decide whether he lived or died for the things he had done to Albion.

And for some strange reason, Logan couldn't convince himself that his sister would spare him.

"It will be good to return home."

"The circumstances are a bit different this time."

It wasn't a pointed comment, and his tone was surprisingly devoid of cruelty; there was still the usual dry sense behind his words that he never quite seemed to be rid of, but all in all it was more or less a comment and nothing more.

Reaver never had been one to empathize, and this wasn't much of an exception. At the same time, Logan wasn't the only one not under full ownership of his own fate; the onset of summer wasn't something that Reaver was looking forward to.

But for now, the water was calming, and summer with all its unfortunate implications wasn't anything he wanted to focus on.

"You're still troubled by it. Understandably so, really." Again, not so much judgement as commentary, but still.

"Not just by it. The entire situation in Albion." He finally admitted with a sigh. Logan lowered his hands to trail through the water again. They were still shaking a bit, but somehow or other, Reaver's words had helped. He didn't understand how, what with that tone of Reaver's and the words themselves were hardly comforting, but it had relaxed him some anyway.

Maybe it was just the fact that Reaver was here and he understood, at least to some extent.

"My sister... she should have never gotten involved with all this. Perhaps it's my own fault, but I didn't anticipate her overreacting..."

He stopped, shook his head with the realization that Reaver probably had no idea what he was going on about. He couldn't remember if he had even mentioned what started all this to Reaver.

"There were a group of protesters outside the castle. It really wasn't any different from any ordinary day, but Sir Walter and my sister noticed. Sir Walter attempted to reason with me - his advice was once useful, but circumstances have changed. My sister barged in with her friend and attempted to tell me that I couldn't kill the protesters. She didn't understand; but I shouldn't have expected her to.

"I overreacted. I forced her to choose between saving the protesters or her friend. The other party would be killed."

Logan's eyes remained downcast at the water. He didn't seem overly bothered by it until he reached that point, when suddenly his expression twisted and it became very obvious he was just trying to reign in his anger.

"It was a stupid and rash decision on my part. That is why she left the castle and formed this rebellion. That is how she got involved in all of this. If I hadn't--!"

But he stopped himself there, taking a deep breath and returning to moving his hands through the water, clearly trying to calm himself.

"...I never wanted her to face any of this. I've failed her, both as her king and as her brother." He didn't sound upset with that little revelation though, merely resigned. "I apologize. I suppose I needed to get that off my chest." And he did seem a bit bothered by unloading all that on Reaver. He knew Reaver couldn't care less about things like this, but he did feel a bit better getting all that out in the open.

That honestly got a bit of a derisive noise from Reaver's direction, along with a fair amount of eyerolling. "And I suppose you believe rebellions like this happen overnight? Please. Do keep in mind that I've met your charming younger sister, and with all due respect to her and her station, somehow I doubt she would have been able to formulate anything near as elaborate a plan as this without outside assistance. I daresay she didn't even come up with the majority of all of this herself."

While his voice was, again, not terribly cruel, and that odd smirk still lingered about his features, it was rather plain that he wasn't exactly going to back down on these points, either. "There have been numerous attempts on my own life since I've taken up my position; many of them have come from Page and her little faction. Given that I've never even mentioned such things to you and they weren't terribly common knowledge, and given that our little revolutionary hardly left the castle to begin with, where do you think she even heard of Page to begin with? Or any of the others that were laying siege to Bowerstone, for that matter?

"I won't argue with you if you try to claim you accelerated the process, but somehow I doubt your actions were the direct cause of it, because - again, with all due respect to your sister and her station - somehow I doubt a spoiled brat who's never known the outside of the castle would have even thought to do half of this on her own."

For a long moment Logan couldn't come up with anything to say in response to that. Reaver was right, of course; rebellions don't get started overnight. That just raised the question of who was planning this all along? It must have been Sir Walter, though Logan found himself rather hurt by the idea that Walter would do that without trying to discuss anything with him. That wasn't exactly right though, was it? Walter had done everything he could to change Logan's mind in the beginning. Walter had known just how terrible things were getting before everyone else. He would have had plenty of time to formulate a plan and work on preparing the princess for her role in it.

"You should have told me about what the resistance was doing. I know you can handle it on your own, but I would have at least sent more soldiers into Industrial in an attempt to discover their location." Not that it really mattered now, he supposed.

There was another long moment of pause before Logan spoke again. "Thank you. You're right; my sister couldn't have started all this on her own." He couldn't argue that she was a spoiled brat who had never seen life outside the castle (hell, he was a spoiled brat who had seen very little of life outside the castle), nor did he care to try.

"It... does mean a lot, to hear that I'm not entirely at fault for putting her in this situation."

"I said nothing to you regarding the resistance because they were hardly any sort of threat, at least not as they were; really, if I came to you about every little uprising that occurred in Bowerstone Industrial, then you'd tire of me rather quickly - and I certainly can't have that, can I?"

And judging by his tone, that was quite simply going to be that on the matter; there was very little sense in arguing, unless Logan wanted him to be stubborn. "As for the rest, I've been your friend and advisor for years - I'd think you'd know that that's what I'm here for by this point."

Reaver's words stunned Logan into silence again, but for an entirely different reason this time. The emotional reaction was quick; he felt genuinely happy to hear Reaver refer to him as a friend, even after everything they had gone through. Maybe it didn't mean as much to Reaver as it did to him, but friendship was something Logan hadn't had much experience with. If one didn't count his sister, it was something he didn't have any experience with.

"I..." But he couldn't come up with anything to say in response, merely shaking his head and focusing back on the water. He knew he should express just how pleased he was with hearing that, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out how to do it without sounding like a child.

"...Thank you." It wasn't the best, but it would have to do. He didn't speak for a moment, still trying to find something to say. "You've been an excellent adviser." At least he knew Reaver was partial to compliments.

Reaver just laughed a bit at that, softly. "But of course; you only hired the finest possible." Despite the shameless egotism, however, it was clear that the compliment had pleased him.

"That said, however, there's no reason to be so shy about it."

"I am not--" But he didn't even bother to finish that, since it would be a bit of a blatant lie. Instead, he finished that thought with a rather undignified noise of frustration and rolled his eyes. Fine, fine, he was shy. Happy?

"...Yes, well. I did need the very best to ensure the survival of our country. You did an excellent job serving me."

...Yes, he was even willing to stroke Reaver's ego a bit more.

And Reaver certainly wasn't going to complain about that, though he did arch an eyebrow a bit at that non-admission before Logan continued on.

"Of course, my dear. And naturally, the same services will be extended to your sister, when the time comes for that."

...although the sheer thickness of the sarcasm there was likely more than enough to make it plain what he thought about that. Not looking forward to it, Logan...

Despite the seriousness of the topic, Logan found himself smirking.

"She's not going to let you build that whorehouse either, you know."

And all that Logan received for his effort was the most dismissive gesture.

"Oh, we'll see about that."

"You didn't stand a chance with me. There's no way she will let you get away with that. She's far more moral than I am."

He didn't seem bothered by that any though, still smirking instead.

"She's also far less of a prude, given what she was wearing at the point that she and our dear friend Page decided to force entry into my mansion."

Ahahahaha what.

"Reaver..."

You heard him.

Despite that, however, he just laughs again. "All right, all right. Consider it retracted, if it offends you so."

"Good. I suggest you don't talk about my sister that way again."

She is far too young for you anyway!!

...honestly, everyone managed to be too young for him, if you were going to look at it that way.

"If you insist, darling."

Yes, well. Her especially.

"I do." But he wasn't as uptight about it as he could have been, and soon enough, Logan was smirking again.

"You really ought to know better than to attempt to say such things about my sister in front of me, Reaver." And with that, he oh-so-maturely splashed water at the industrialist.

LOCKED TO istheindustry

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