route_1065 | You can never escape darkness, it flocks to you always.

Entry tags:

You can never escape darkness, it flocks to you always.

Who: Logan (

decrees) and Reaver (

istheindustry)
Where: Ruins of Alph
When: 8/02, night
Summary: What starts as a journey of exploration quickly turns into horrible flashbacks. Thanks, Johto. It's not like we needed our sanity or anything. (Spoilers for Fable III!)
Rating: PG-13 to be safe.
Log: There's really only so much wandering around hopelessly lost a man can take. Granted, Logan would prefer being hopelessly lost than staying in Goldenrod or Ecruteak - his arrival in both cities had been almost perfect, if by "perfect" one meant "showing up when both cities were being attacked by Team Rocket." Needless to say, Logan and Reaver had decided to avoid both towns and vanish for a little while until things calmed down. Logan had been adamant about travelling alone at first, but Reaver certainly had a way of finding him every night without fail and after awhile, Logan decided it would be better just to put up with Reaver. He would never admit it, but it was rather nice to have someone from Albion who didn't want him dead.

The two of them had headed east from Ecruteak after the latest attack there and Logan had followed Reaver. The man had been a pirate and knew how to navigate the open seas (not that it did much good here; they weren't in open water nor were the constellations anything Reaver could navigate by) and Reaver was far better suited to finding his way than Logan was. He could plot out courses perfectly fine, but actually following them was a different story entirely. It wasn't surprising that it took them far longer than it really should have to reach the Ruins of Alph, but they had finally reached it that afternoon. Logan had spent time setting up camp before exploring - there had been far too many instances where they had to throw camp together at the last minute and he'd prefer to avoid doing that again.

It was twilight by the time he finally went about exploring the caves, sending out his Vulpix to light the way. The room he entered first was already lit though - it was a bit odd, but not something Logan couldn't handle. What caught his attention first were the runes on the back wall which seemed to spell out something. He couldn't tell what and eventually gave up, moving on to study the puzzle laid out in the center of the room. It appeared to be of some sort of prehistoric creature, and Logan was perfectly content to slide the panels into place to try to figure out what the creature was.

...Needless to say, he was in for a rather nasty shock when he completed the puzzle, heard a chime in the background, and was unceremoniously dumped through the floor to land in a much larger chamber.

The music is different here, it's quieter, slower, and ominous. There's something about it that is almost familiar, but he can't quite put his finger on why. Logan is unhurt - a little shocked by the sudden fall, but he isn't hurt. He glances up to see if he can figure out where exactly he fell from, but there doesn't appear to be anything in the ceiling. Odd. He's not exactly worried however, and he locates his 'Gear to call Reaver. He did leave his bag back at camp and that contained the Escape Rope he needs to get out of here.

"Hopefully he'll actually pick up," Logan muses to the Vulpix who remains tense at his side. He hasn't realized just how terrified the poor thing is. Logan's starter, Prince the Snivy, is out as well and exploring around without any fear whatsoever. It runs on ahead once it sees something, but Logan isn't particularly worried. Prince can take care of himself, after all.

It's only when Logan begins to feel some sort of presence that he starts worrying. He's not alone down here.

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Honestly, Reaver has been content this entire time to stay away from the big ominous caves until he can be sure what, exactly, is in them; somehow, exploring these things as the sun is going down isn't striking him as the smartest idea that either of them have ever had. However, if Logan wants to explore, he's more than welcome; Reaver had taken one look at the caves, not been reassured by the fact that the first few rooms were already lit, and contented himself to remain outside with his marginally-less-useless Houndoom, his belongings, and his "nope" for the rest of the evening, thank you very much.

He realizes that it's a bit of an unfair thing to do, leaving Logan to wander through the place alone while he begins picking through one of the books that he just may have stolen from Ecruteak while everything was in chaos, but he imagines the good king can handle himself - if by "handling oneself," one means "stumble into some sort of disaster within the first twenty minutes," of course. After all, we can't go about expecting miracles, here...

And so it was with absolutely no surprise whatsoever that Reaver notices an odd grating noise, a bit of a crash, more of that odd grating noise, and his device suddenly going insane next to him.

He doesn't pick up right away; he simply snaps the book closed and gestures for Gerard to come with. The Houndoom follows dutifully - really, it's the only creature Reaver has gotten in this place that isn't completely made of failure - and off they go; really, Logan can't have gotten himself into too much trouble, given that the caves had looked, again, completely ominous, but generally rather shallow, all things considered. There were only so many places that he could have possibly gone...

...and of course, Logan was in exactly none of those places that he could have possibly gone. Of course!

Right, well. If he was calling him, clearly the man wasn't in any sort of grave danger; it takes Reaver a bit to turn the device on and fix it to the setting he wants, but after a second there is video, and there is Reaver on the video, and for once Logan isn't the one looking like he knew for a fact that this was a horrible idea and why on earth would you think it was a good one.

"Still in one piece, I'm assuming?"

Well, alright, he will freely admit that this wasn't one of his better ideas. But after the incident in Ecruteak (which had seemed to be the most promising place he'd seen in Johto) he would really rather explore the place before it gets destroyed. Is that really such a dreadful idea?

Logan answers the 'Gear quickly enough, heedless of the Vulpix growling at his feet. "Yes, of course. The floor gave way; I seem to be in some sort of basement. I'm searching for a way out now." He turns the 'Gear so that Reaver can get a good look at his surroundings - the strange writings on the wall, the odd statues, and the Snivy running back at top speed shrieking--

...Wait, that's definitely not normal.

"What on earth are you--?" He doesn't get to finish the question though as something large and shadowy appears on screen behind the fleeing Snivy. Logan goes silent immediately and it's probably a good thing that he's not on screen. The 'Gear drops and clicks off after a moment and Logan is left there incapable of movement while his whole body is shrieking at him to move. This isn't right, this is just like last time with the Crawler--!

But he can't move. Some part of him is almost relieved. If the Crawler followed him here, that means Albion is safe from it. If its here, it can't return home. Albion is safe, even if that means the Crawler will kill him here. It doesn't matter. He's done everything he could to save Albion, and to die for it would be an honor. He's terrified of course, but he seizes on that thought and focuses solely on that as the dark, shadowy creature approaches.

Well, that...

...

...that was quite the interesting display, Logan, now give Reaver a moment to decide whether he should actually attempt to save you or just leave you to the...ah, the thing that's terrifying the hell out of your lizard down there.

It's probably terrible that this is something he legitimately has to think over, but Reaver is a Hero in title only; he's never been one for senseless self-sacrifice and throwing himself into harm's way just for the sake of a headpat and some acclaim. He's gotten his own reputation through fear and violence, after all; heroism in the altruistic sense has never interested him.

However, it's really to no one's benefit if Logan gets eaten in some godforsaken corner of nowhere - except perhaps the Resistance, who would certainly benefit from Logan disappearing, as would Bowerstone in general, arguably, and he has been running Albion into the ground lately, hasn't he...ah, but that's rather far beside the point, isn't it? The point is that Reaver supposes it might be for the best to find some way down - if for no better reason than Logan is far more useful to him alive than dead. Surely Logan had to have been doing something to get the floor out from under him; the only unusual thing in that room would probably be those panels with the odd markings on them...

Reaver admittedly has no clue what he's supposed to be forming with the panels - some sort of picture, clearly, but he has no idea what - but it doesn't take him long to work it out; if nothing else, the tactic of simply matching up edges to form a coherent picture works. The chime once he's done with it is a good sign, he imagines! It even allows him a brief moment of triumph before the place rather rudely decides that the floor quite simply doesn't need to exist anymore.

The drop is something he had expected on at least some level - that tends to happen when the floor gives out, as Logan had described it doing before so helpfully going silent and dropping the device - and Reaver is perfectly fine with taking it. The fall itself isn't an unpleasant one, and it's far less of a distance than he's used to taking; however, as they say, it's not the fall that's horrid, it's that sudden stop at the bottom. Reaver isn't injured by the fall, at least not in any way that's going to make his body resist movement; at the same time, he's more than a bit surprised by how jarring it is, and the sudden upshoot of pain that comes with connecting with the ground.

He immediately sets to dusting himself off irritably; it's horridly dark down here, and it isn't long before Gerard - who seems to have made it down here with him somehow - is growling at his side.

"Your Majesty, do tell me you haven't died down here, that would be horribly inconvenient to have to explain..." His voice doesn't contain the amount of bite those words probably should, however; his hand drops back to the holster at his side, only to jerk away abruptly upon finding it empty. Logan, where are you, can you at least scream or do something useful...

When has he ever made things easy on you, Reaver? That said, Logan might not be making it easy on you, but a certain little fire fox is. Ruby has finally gotten over being completely terrified and leaps in front of her trainer, blasting the oncoming thing with a Fire Spin attack. The flames light it up and it starts shrieking - only it's not shrieking in the normal sense of the word since it doesn't have a mouth. What Logan's looking at is very clearly not any sort of animal he's ever seen, nor is it one of the Children or the Crawler itself. But the shrieking is happening in his head and that has far too many uncomfortable memories associated with it.

Logan sinks to his knees, hands grasping at his head as if that will somehow or other force the noise out of it. He's not aware that he's started speaking, and he's not aware of just how insane he sounds. "Get it out, get it out, get it out--! I won't listen to you again! You can't... you won't..."

Prince yanks on his trainer's cape, trying to draw his attention outwards, but Logan's only response is to bat the poor Snivy away and go back to muttering frantically to himself. The creature caught in the Fire Spin - a Sigilyph by the looks of it - finally breaks free for long enough to launch a Psybeam at the Vulpix. She takes the hit and fires off an Ember attack in retaliation. At least she seems to understand that her trainer needs to be protected.

The Snivy instead notices the sound coming from where they entered and backs away from the fight to investigate. He's all too pleased to find a familiar face and immediately starts chirping frantically. C'mon, mister Reaver, you've got to help him out! And don't kick him for the love of God! This is serious!

Some part of Logan is keenly aware that the Vulpix is attacking something that is most likely one of the creatures of this world. He knows that. The thing isn't in his head taunting him and telling him how he's going to run his kingdom into the ground for vanity and glory. It's not whispering threats about how it will cover the world in darkness and snuff out all light. It can't be the Crawler. But the similarities are too much for him to handle and Logan's ranting grows louder. "I won't surrender Albion to you! Not back there, not here; you can't take control now! Don't you see? We're not in Albion anymore!"

It's the mental shrieking that gets Reaver's attention first - he knows what he's seeing, the flames and the creature and the fact that there are too many eyes on it to be comfortable, but that's nothing more than a flash, something immediately disregarded as unimportant in favor of the screaming in his head, and they had screamed on that night too, hadn't they, and there had been flames and shadows and death all around and the last time he'd been in a dark cave like this he had heard th-

We're not in Albion anymore!

He had no idea what it was that made those particular words stand out to him, as somehow he really doubted Logan had any idea what was going on in his corner, and even if he did, he doubted the man would find anything half that useful to say on purpose. But accidental or not, they seemed to do the trick rather well; now that he's aware of his surroundings, there's really not much of a response to give other than being rather suitably annoyed. However, when it comes to the battle at hand...well. While these creatures aren't ever going to serve as a suitable replacement for his weapons, it's plain that Logan is going to be beyond useless in this fight, and neither of his creatures have changed form yet besides.

Really, does he always have to do all the work?

"Gerard, do be a sweetheart and punish that thing for tormenting our dear leader, will you?" He's back to smirking, however; it's been a while since he's faced a valid threat. He studies it for a while; it is just kind of hovering there, isn't it? These...electrical moves probably won't be too kind to it, and it's the most powerful thing his helldog has on him right now besides. "Thunder Fang, I think - shock it until it dies."

The Sigilyph shrieks again when the Thunder Fang connects. It flaps its wings a few more times, clearly trying to get airborne and possibly away from the battle, but the last of the Fire Spin's flames catch it and pull it back in. It faints with a final, enraged scream and leaves Logan shuddering. It's too similar. It's not the same, but it's far too similar.

But it's gone now. It's dead. He doesn't have to worry about it anymore because it won't be attacking them again. The king finally moves to stand; he's still trying to get his bearings - this isn't Albion. This is Johto. It is a place where weapons are not the primary means of attack and defense, but these creatures are. His two are... somewhere around here and they're loyal to him. They will protect him against anything like that, should they encounter anything else. He's fine. That thing wasn't the Crawler, but he doesn't have the worry about that. The Crawler isn't here. It's--

"...back in Albion." He mumbles to himself, finally regaining his footing. He's still lost in his own little world and doesn't even seem to notice Reaver is over there - but that might be because of the things on the wall behind him. The eyes.

Those certainly weren't there before.

Logan is intensely aware of the music again and now he can suddenly place it - it sounds like the melody from a music box he'd heard as a child. It had upset his mother horribly and she had it removed immediately, but there was a haunting melody about it and while it wasn't exactly the same, it was similar enough. He hadn't felt any fear about the silly little music box at the time, but hearing that haunting tune now...?

The eyes floated off the wall - they weren't like the Children or the Crawler in appearance, but they were speaking to him, in his head. He couldn't make out what they were saying at all, but they floated around, moving to make patterns and dispersing before he could make any sense of them, almost as if he should have been capable of figuring out what they were trying to say. They didn't seem to intend him harm, but that didn't put Logan at ease any. Ruby didn't attack either, but she was growling again. She could sense her trainer's discomfort with the Unown. They were weak though; she didn't see why her trainer would be bothered by them out of all the things down here in this cave.

Reaver doesn't really acknowledge Gerard's return to his side - he's never been one to offer affection as a reward for doing exactly what you're supposed to do, and if these things are supposed to serve as weapons here, he's damn well going to treat them like weapons. He's a bit unnerved by the eyes that seem to be...all over the walls, but that's easily brushed aside; there are more pressing matters to concern himself with.

His approach toward Logan is a brisk one, though he does flinch quite a bit when those eyes are no longer on the walls; he forces himself to pay them no mind, to keep his attention on what's actually happening rather than those odd flickers of thought at the edges of his mind. They're intrusive and rather plainly not his; the idea isn't a pleasant one, but he's not going to let himself get distracted - that tends to not go very well, after all.

"If you'll forgive me for saying so, Your Majesty, we really ought to move - staying here won't do us any good."

Logan's attention snaps to Reaver when the industrialist speaks; the king looks surprised to see him. When did Reaver get here? How long has he been here? That brings up another horribly awkward point - how long has Logan been down here? He doesn't like the fact that he's lost control so easily, but the idea of losing it in front of anyone bothers him even more.

"Ah, right, of course."

His tone is soft and the words are quick, but it doesn't hide the uncertainty. His attention is drawn back to the eyes circling them and Logan represses a shudder. Which way did he fall in from? How are they supposed to get out of this place? No, he will not allow himself to panic now. This isn't Shadelight. This isn't Albion. He's safe here. The Crawler can't touch him here.

"Do you have any idea how to get out of here?"

Reaver can't say he's terribly impressed with the question, though he manages to keep from rolling his eyes as he goes to look over that...thing that they killed earlier. It's soon obvious (from the vague involuntary twitching, presumably caused by being set on fire, flooded with electricity and then set on fire again) that it isn't dead, but it's still just kind of lying there, made of eyes and colors and a lot of unconsciousness; Reaver supposes it's more than a bit morbid of him to do so, but he pulls out one of those red and white capsules and captures the thing. After all, the stupid thing is just lying there for the taking, and who knows? Perhaps it might be useful one day.

"While your faith in my abilities to do the completely impossible and emerge victorious in literally any situation is not, in fact, unfounded...unfortunately, I'm about as familiar with this place as you are."

He returns his attention to Logan then, his gaze darting quickly to those odd floating eyes before he speaks. "Well. Those things seem a bit fond, don't they?"

...Reaver, what are you even doing... Thankfully Logan's still a bit out of it and doesn't comment - it doesn't even really occur to him that Reaver just captured that horrid thing - instead he ends up glancing upward at the eyes that seem to want to circle him. They occasionally poke at his mind and Logan involuntarily twitches, but for the most part he seems to be in control again.

"Don't remind me." The command is snapped but it's lacking the usual strength behind it, and Logan finally picks a direction and leads the way. If Reaver isn't going to take the initiative, fine. He will.

...The eyes are still following him and he can swear they're laughing...

Reaver is more than content to follow him, mildly amused at Logan's sudden determination - as though he has any idea where he's going! - though he does know better than to comment on that much, at least.

"I take it that...thing caught you by surprise." His voice is rather calm; really, Reaver seems rather calm overall, considering they're lost in the dark with no idea what to expect. A couple of hundred years doing battle just to have an audience with the Shadow Judges does that to a person, he supposes; either way, it's probably for the best that one of them can keep their head in this situation. "Perhaps this advice seems obvious, but I would suggest just fighting them as they come - even Shadows can be destroyed, after all, and believe me, the creatures in this world are far from being Shadows."

"Yes, I'm well aware of that." Logan's voice is tense; Reaver must have seen his momentary weakness. Of all people to see him like that, why Reaver? Logan pauses at an intersection and opts to turn down it. He has absolutely no idea where he's going, is it obvious?

He faced the Shadows four years ago and lived. His Elite Guards were defeated, but he lived. Whether it was luck or some darker plan of the Crawler's he'll never know. But that doesn't matter. He owes it to those men - to Albion - to stay strong, to return home, and to vanquish the darkness.

For Albion. If he can focus on that, he'll be fine.

But the incessant chattering of those eyes is getting to him, and when Logan abruptly takes another sharp turn it should be rather clear that he's no longer focusing on getting out so much as he is getting away. Perhaps the eyes aren't any closer and perhaps they really aren't talking any louder in his head. It seems like they are and that's all that matters. Logan finally comes to a stop and turns on his heel, glancing up almost frantically for the eyes. Sure enough, there's quite a trail of them following. There are more of them now, much more of them. They trail off into the darkness and there's no telling just how many of them are following...

"Stay back! I'll not have you follow us any longer!" His default response is to reach for his sword, but of course there's nothing there. His voice rises with each word, his tone becoming more and more frantic, "Leave us be! Surely you have other things to attend to!"

It's much easier to keep calm and composed when he's locked away in the War Room and not facing down so many shadowy eyes.

Well, if kneeling on the ground and screaming is considered a "momentary" weakness then yes, he certainly did see that. As it stands, when Logan seems to temporarily lose his mind and scream at the floating things as though he's trying to micromanage their schedule, however...

Normally he would just leave the situation; this isn't something that he really cares to work out, nor does he particularly want to be a sounding board for Logan's issues. It would be easiest to leave, and have nothing more to do with the man, and for a good moment Reaver honestly considers it. However, he has no idea how to get out of here either, and there's no guarantee that leaving Logan to wander these corridors alone and slowly lose his mind won't come back to bite him in the end.

So! They need to leave without anyone having too much of a crisis, and without stopping every thirty seconds to shout at some creatures. With that in mind, Reaver proceeds to do what any self-respecting man from Albion would do in this situation: he reaches out, takes Logan by the hand with absolutely zero sense of shame, and proceeds to start guiding him down the corridor.

Come on, Logan. If you're going to make him do this the hard way, the least you can do is not resist too much.

And like any self-respecting citizen of Albion, Logan allows himself to be led without any fuss. "Ah, of course."

In fact, the sudden change in his demeanor would be shocking to anyone not from Albion. He's suddenly far more relaxed and calm and he isn't glancing back over his shoulder at all the eyes. They're still trying to communicate with him in some way, but he doesn't seem to care anymore. He's perfectly content to let Reaver lead him out of this place - assuming they can find the exit at all, that is.

Well, at least you feel positively enough toward him to not put up any sort of fuss! It's always a bit of a pain to do this with the ones that don't, they're often shrieking and flailing the entire way. But that's really not an issue right now, is it? Of course, Reaver still has no idea where they're going, but at least they're making good time; he's flouncing his way through this place at a rather fast clip, but Logan doesn't seem to have any complaints to offer, and the sooner they can leave this place behind them...

And after a good amount of being certain that he's seen this particular intersection about thirty times before, as well as at least once instance of giving in and swatting at the flying eyes - a mistake, he had learned rather quickly that that was a mistake, as the mental murmuring had just gotten louder - eventually there's an incredibly random ladder, just sitting there in the middle of nowhere, minding its own business and appearing to be leading up to the upper levels of the ruins; due to the nature of, well, ladders in general, it requires releasing Logan to use the stupid thing. Hopefully there won't be a crisis; he lets go easily, pulling back and gesturing toward that godsend of an exit.

"After you, I suppose."

The whispers and thoughts that were almost audible had gotten louder, but Logan hadn't minded. It was rather difficult to mind anything while he was being dragged around, even if they had passed that same intersection a few times. There was something undeniably calming about being led and Reaver's confidence certainly did help. Just imagine if he had lost his head as well!

Logan blinked blearily when Reaver let go of his hand - oh, right, they were leaving this place. He shook his head and gave the place one final glance. The eyes were still following them and he could still hear them and-- No. He'd faltered enough for one day and if leaving this place would get them to shut up, then he'd gladly do it. He didn't want to spend any more time down there in the dark. He took the ladder leading upward immediately; perhaps he was a bit too quick in ascending it, but somehow or other Ruby and Prince found their way up top as well.

The night air was cool and a welcome relief. It wasn't stale like the air down below, and the voices slowly faded from his head. Logan could think again. He ran both hands back through his hair, tugging on the ends a bit in a habitual gesture of frustration. He had shown more weakness here than he had in years. If he had known the situation was going to be even the least bit similar he wouldn't have gone in there. Four years had done nothing to ease his fear of the Crawler and its horrid Children.

But he was safe here. They couldn't reach him here. It was selfish, horribly selfish, but he was relieved. The people of Albion had the Hero of Brightwall to look after them now; if anyone could save them from the coming darkness, it was a Hero. He was glad to be rid of the throne and he was glad to be away from the Crawler.

Logan finally turned to see if Reaver had finally wandered up. Hopefully he didn't get eaten by the eyes or anything. It would be sort of a shame to lose him after all this time.

Well, if the eyes had any intent of eating Reaver someday, it's clear that today is not that day; he isn't exactly climbing that ladder like the floor below is on fire, but he's not terribly pleased at being down there in the dark for any longer than he really has to be.

Admittedly, he isn't exactly wanting to have a Deep and Meaningful with Logan about what just happened down there; that had been horridly awkward down there, and there really wasn't anything that could be said about it that wouldn't just compound the awkwardness. Logan tended to avoid discussions regarding the...thing that had been in the deserts outside of Aurora; even after it had been made plain that Reaver had some idea of what Logan was talking about when it came to the Crawler, it hadn't been anything that they had discussed in detail. All that needed to be said was that there was, indeed, something out there; it was horrible, and likely going to attempt to...eat Albion or something, and were it allowed to do that then it would likely be incredibly bad for all parties involved. Particularly the Albions.

There was nothing more to be discussed, really. Their individual experiences didn't really matter to one another, and Reaver rather preferred it that way. It was clear that Logan had gone through some sort of hell out there, but he really didn't care enough to find out what, nor did he have any intention of trying to find some sort of advice or reassuring words for the man. There were some things that you just can't reassure someone after; Reaver knows that better than most, perhaps.

But the night air is nice, as is, you know, being able to breathe properly. And look, Logan's looking halfway sane again, how lovely!

"Well! I'm assuming you won't be going down there again." He tips his head a bit, indicating the ladder leading back down into the lower levels.

If looks could kill, Reaver... Logan doesn't dignify that with a response. The last thing he needs right now is for Reaver to make light of such a situation. Instead he turns toward the camp, pausing to make sure Ruby and Prince follow him. The Vulpix seems much more cheerful now that they're away from all the horrible monsters down there, while Prince is still sullen about not getting his way. In other words, a completely normal night for them.

The tent is still standing and the camp looks more appealing than ever. If there is anything else to explore around here, it can wait until morning and if it involves that cave again, Logan won't be sticking around for long. He makes sure Ruby and Prince are fed, followed by releasing his two newer ones, Garnet the Torchic and Quartz the Staravia. Once all four are happily fed and content with forming some sort of makeshift watch for the night, Logan moves to prepare for bed.

His movements are mechanical and rehearsed and it's quite clear that he's a million miles away. This proves why he could never lead Albion against the darkness. This is why his sister had to betray him and overthrow him. He wouldn't have been able to save Albion despite his best efforts. This weakness has marked him as a failure, both figuratively and literally. He pauses to run a finger over the prominent scar on his lip before once again shaking his head. There's nothing that can be done about it here. The only thing he can do is try to find a way to return to Albion.

Logan sets aside his chestplate and cape, pausing to tug absently on his shirt and sleeves. As lost as he is in his thoughts, he knows better than to ignore Reaver for too long. "Well?" He finally turns to find the man. "Are you coming to bed?"

...Not that he cares if you do or anything.

Reaver had been perfectly content to settle himself on the ground a short distance away, locating that book he'd been reading earlier and flipping through it a bit, not really seeing much in terms of words; for all appearances, he hasn't really been affected much by what happened, though over two hundred and fifty years has taught him well when it comes to keeping things in his head where they belong. Once in a while he'll purge them, in the form of diary entries he writes and then promptly rips out, shoving them somewhere that he can ignore them easily and act as though they never existed, but for the most part he's content to bury them in other ways. Really, give him a few hours and he won't feel a thing; if anything, he'll have practically forgotten it, moving on in favor of something new and beautifully distracting.

But when Logan addresses him he rises easily, a definite smirk crossing his features as he does so. "And just how do you expect me to refuse such a tempting offer, hm?"

Despite that, however, he's fully aware of what's meant and they both know it; he'll indulge Logan for now, he supposes. He has no doubt he'll be awake again shortly, long before Logan wakes himself up with some nightmare or another; Reaver's more or less perfected the art of leaving the immediate area without waking Logan up himself, though he's never terribly far away. For the time being, however, lying down doesn't sound terribly bad; why not, then.

Logan doesn't even bother with the usual lineface and "no" combination; he's far too tired and drained from this little encounter to bother with the usual banter. Reaver knows he's not interested and if he's smart he won't bother pushing, especially not tonight.

He's gotten used to Reaver's strange desire to touch him while they sleep - it's almost always in the form of hand-holding which is... odd, but tolerable. Cuddling has never been something Logan has found any interest in, if only because he's always slept alone. It feels weird to have someone else in his space. He almost breaks that rule tonight. As loathe as he is to admit it, he's scared and having someone there (even if it is Reaver) is comforting. But he doesn't cuddle; he is the King of Albion, dammit, he doesn't need to be held. He's never needed such a trivial thing before and he certainly doesn't need it now.

Maybe it would have helped a little though. He's lucky if he managed an hour of sleep before the nightmares start. They're the sort you can't seem to wake yourself up from, no matter how hard you try. You know they're just dreams but they're terrifying and so real and the only thing you can do is sit there and watch them unfold.

The Shifting Sands had been no trouble for the Elite Guards. Logan was not as skilled as they were with firearms, but his swordarm was just as strong. He had personally sparred with several of them on the journey to Aurora, the distant city across the sea. It had been an arduous journey and clearly someone's maps had been faulty to land them in the desert with no sign of the town. Logan had opted to scout the desert with his troops, leaving the sailors with the ships. They'd be back before long - give them a day, two at the most. If they found nothing they would return and they could hug the coast until something more promising appeared. But Logan was sick of staying on board the ship and wanted to stretch his legs again. He had thought it would be a good idea.

He couldn't have been more mistaken.

They found themselves in a strange, subterranean tunnel. It led to an odd pit where a vortex of swirling blues, purples, and pinks blockaded them from entering. Or maybe, Logan would reflect months later, to keep something from getting out. One of the men had located a book filled with arcane magic, most of which was unreadable. But they had found something that made the barrier disappear and against the soldiers' better judgement, Logan had pressed them forward. This looked like a huge discovery - it could be a possible boon for Albion, and Logan had always longed to discover something great in his country's name. It was foolish. He should have paid more attention to the soldiers' intuition. They were far more experienced than he was.

But they descended into the darkness and within it they found it: the Crawler and its spawn. It did not appear before them, not immediately. It taunted them, sending wave after wave of the Children to test them, to assess just how powerful they were. Its cries became more and more horrific the deeper they descended until finally they arrived at a stone stage. The Crawler appeared before them then, demanding to know why they had hurt the Children and why they had invaded its space. Logan had - foolishly - challenged it.

He didn't remember a thing that happened afterwards, but his dreams provided him with some horrible idea of what it might have gone like.

"You are flawed, great king! You and your kind! None shall withstand the darkness! Accept it; do not fight it any longer. You wish for these men to fall in your name. You wish for honor and glory on the battlefield. You desire nothing more than legends to be written about you... and oh how they shall be. You shall be known as the Tyrant King! A trail of bodies shall follow you wherever you go and darkness... yes... you shall know complete and utter darkness!"

Logan awoke screaming.

It was no different than any other night he had faced in the past four years. Sometimes the dreams were more specific, sometimes less. More often than not he saw himself killing his own soldiers while they tried to stall him. They could not turn on their King, they could not bring themselves to harm him. That was years ago, before he was Albion's tyrant and instead a benevolent, if incredibly naive, ruler. Sometimes the dreams showed the darkness invading him, tainting him forever. Other times the dreams showed nothing but he heard everything - the Crawler, the Children, their taunts and mocking laughter, the clashing of swords, the whir and hum of the Sentinels as the Children brought them to life...

He lay there, a hand over his face, shaking. The minutes passed slowly, but with each one he was able to dismiss a fear, remind himself that he wasn't in danger anymore, that this wasn't Albion. He finally pushed himself into a sitting position; he wasn't surprised to find that Reaver wasn't in the tent. Logan ran his hands through his hair, gripping the ends again for a moment before he finally pushed himself upright. He wouldn't be getting any more sleep tonight.

Ruby followed closely at his heels as he opened the tent flap and stepped outside. It was nice out, but that did little to soothe his nerves. Logan didn't call out, but he he did look for Reaver; it was not exactly the man himself he sought but rather the company Reaver could provide. If anyone understood what it was like to deal with sleepless nights, it was Reaver. Anyone who experienced the Crawler would have horrific nightmares, and that was what Reaver's issue was, wasn't it? Of course it was.

Sleepless nights are indeed something Reaver is rather familiar with; to say that he hasn't slept soundly since the night Oakvale perished would be an exaggeration, as he's had some rather nice nights in the company of others - sometimes the standard individuals with loose morals, sometimes those poor simplistic idiots who thought he married for love and not assets (whatever assets they may have happened to have), sometimes those lucky few that he was willing to consider his for a while. More often than not alcohol is involved; there's almost always pure exhaustion involved (if one can follow his drift), but all in all? To say he never sleeps would be a lie, and a rather poor one at that.

However, something that's become increasingly clear to him is that he simply can't sleep alone - to sleep alone is to invite some rather...unpleasant thoughts, things he's tried to stifle but hasn't quite been able to purge from his mind, and the easiest way to deal with them nowadays is to simply prevent them. After all, with the exception of people like Andrew (ah, poor Andrew! he could sleep with a cannon going off next to his head were he tired enough, that one; shame about him, and a bigger shame about what that fire in combination with those sleeping habits had done to Reaver's bedroom), others in the bedroom were a decent gauge of exactly what the condition of things was when he couldn't be sure himself; if he woke up next to at least one other person and they were both obviously alive and still asleep, chances are nothing had happened. And it wasn't as though there was a shortage of people around, back in Albion - if he didn't have members of the Society over, he always had staff; if the rest of his staff was out, he always had Barry; on the rare occasion that he had none of that available, there were always the prostitutes, of whom Reaver knew many. Contact with at least one other person at night was a given, if he wasn't flat-out sleeping in a pile; he honestly didn't care what sort of form it took as long as some point of contact was established, and here in Johto, he would just have to take what he could get. If that meant dealing with Logan's bizarre allergy to proper touch and holding his damn hand, at least until Barry met up with them? Well, then, so be it.

However, Logan is right, and sleepless nights are something Reaver is rather familiar with. And with the rather unpleasant reminder earlier of that thing in the desert and all the rather hideous memories it tended to bring with it, Reaver had been right in assuming that he wasn't going to sleep that night. Again, for all intents and purposes he isn't affected at all, outwardly; this evening finds him in a nearby clearing outside, looking skyward and turning in slow circles on the spot, pen in hand and one of those fancy notebooks purchased in one of the local stores propped open against his arm - clearly, trying to make sense of the constellations here is an exercise in what amounts to a combination of patience, looking more than a bit like a crazy person, and most certainly not trying to get the screams of the former citizens of Oakvale out of his head.

He doesn't seem to immediately notice Logan or Ruby; once in a while he glances downward toward that notebook, sketching something, headtilting a bit as though trying to see how it all makes any semblance of sense before returning to studying the sky. He had heard Logan's screaming earlier, however - he definitely isn't far enough away to have not heard it - and he's rather aware of it when he's no longer alone; Reaver can't be sure if Logan just wanted to know where he is, or if he's actually looking to have some sort of conversation. Either way, after a moment he pauses in what he's doing, offering Logan a sidelong glance over the edges of that notebook.

"Difficulty sleeping, Your Majesty?" Though the usual smirk is present across his features when he says it, there's nothing mocking or cruel in the question itself; it's more inquisitive than anything, though from the look of it Reaver isn't terribly invested in the answer - he's immediately back to what he's doing, though at the very least that tone implies that he's in the right mood to listen, should Logan have something to say to him.

Logan watches Reaver, content to remain silent for the time being as the industrialist does... whatever it is he's doing. Twirling in circles and writing, apparently. He can't say he's surprised when Reaver speaks, nor is he surprised by the words, but he does fold his arms and glance away. "Something like that."

Of course Reaver already knows that - if the screaming didn't tell him enough, every night in Johto should have. Logan had grown accustomed to being tired, sleepless nights were always a given and almost completely unavoidable. That wasn't to say he didn't have his own remedies: alcohol tended to help when nothing else would. It wasn't as easy to obtain here as he would have liked and staying in town was obviously a bad idea. He isn't going to be sleeping again tonight, he knows that much.

"What are you doing?" He isn't incredibly interested, but he's found the nightmares are easier to deal with if he simply doesn't deal with them. Reaver has always proved to be quite the decent distraction, whether it was from work or worry, intentional or not. He imagines that won't change here. If all else fails he can always prompt Reaver to talk about himself.

Logan is so used to having responsibilities and appearances to maintain that it hasn't quite occurred to him that things are completely different here. He doesn't have to constantly put up a front. Weakness is allowed. Of course Reaver would probably judge him horribly for it, but after all he's been through? A little judging really wouldn't be that big of a deal. It's nice to have some sort of companionship, even if it is Reaver. It's not as though he's fond of the man, after all.

Honestly, while Logan doesn't have to put up a front in Johto and he's perfectly allowed to be the weakest thing in the region, if he so chooses, Reaver honestly prefers things the way they are. It's just horrifically awkward otherwise, given that he personally doesn't care about the exact nature of Logan's issues; should Logan decide that it's all right to crack like dropped porcelain around him, he may also decide that Reaver's obligated to give a damn - and a damn given solely through obligation is both not a damn given at all, and not anything that Reaver is interested in offering anyone besides.

So for the time being, he's content to not shift the status quo any; if Logan wants conversations about nothing in particular, Reaver is more than content to provide.

"Mm, I believe I told you in the past that the constellations are a bit unusual here - it's making navigating quite impossible indeed. Surely you don't expect me to allow it to stay that way?"

Edited (transposing words all over lately) 2012-08-04 16:20 (UTC)

"Yes, you did. You can figure out a way to navigate using these?" Of course he figured out a way to navigate back home, but somehow or other this seems far more complex.

"Do you need any help?" Logan doubts that though, Reaver seems to prefer to do everything on his own, and besides, asking for help would most likely kill his pride.

Reaver just smiles at that, his gaze trained skyward again. The fact of the matter is that he has no idea what he's doing, really - oh, he understands the basics, and once he works out where everything lies in relation to each other, he should be able to navigate in at least a general sense. But the constellations are completely unfamiliar here, lending the night sky a strange, foreign sense to it; while he doesn't doubt that the stars have been charted here by others long before him, it's oddly more fun to do it himself rather than relying on the research of others. It gives a feeling of intrigue to the whole thing; it's as though he's discovering something, exploring some sort of exciting new territory and seeing what it has to offer him.

As much as he's turned to vaguely more legitimate business practices in recent times, he's still an adventurer at heart; at times like this, it shows.

"Are you experienced with things like this, then, Your Majesty?" His tone implies that he doesn't think Logan is. "I wouldn't take you to be the sort."

"Not at all." Logan has only seen the sense in lying a few times in the past; now isn't one of them. "If there is anything I can do to help, however, I see no reason to refuse."

He folds his arms and glances skyward. The stars certainly aren't familiar, though he had never charted the ones at home and couldn't navigate by them even if they were the ones he knew.

"Is there anything I can do?"

Reaver just shakes his head a bit at that; his tone remains flippant when he replies, but he does glance back at Logan for a long moment, his gaze sharp.

"You're either very bored or very desperate - and whatever the answer is, you're not nearly as subtle as you think you are."

He tenses at that, expression tightening immediately. "My reasons are none of your concern, Reaver."

But fine, if you don't want his help, he'll entertain himself! ...Which really means retreating a little ways away and staring up at the stars and not pouting, shut up. He doesn't want to be alone right now, alright.

Well, that kind of went without saying - he's fully aware that Logan's reasons are absolutely none of his business. At the same time, the whole issue with the Crawler had been none of his business in the first place; Reaver has known Logan long enough to be firmly of the opinion that if Logan says that something is none of his concern and yet doesn't leave the area...well, that's pretty much an invitation to just kind of plow right on ahead with it anyway.

...shut up, you're asking for it.

"You know, as much as you say it's none of my concern, you're certainly opening yourself up for questioning. Shall I prod you a bit, or will you start talking eventually?"

Logan doesn't say anything, opting instead to ignore Reaver and keep staring at the stars. Reaver should go back to ignoring him if he doesn't speak, right? That's better than trying to discuss this. Hell, where would he even being if he were to discuss it? He's never told Reaver what exactly happened, just that there was something out there and it was going to destroy Albion. He didn't give any details on how he knew that, and the only details about the destruction itself were the few he knew: that it would cover Albion in darkness.

He doesn't like being pressed to talk about things like this. Many people wanted him to talk about it - his adviser, his personal aid, his servants... about the only person who hadn't questioned him was Reaver. If he was going to say anything, he would have said it. But they hadn't understood that. Reaver did.

There had always been some sort of odd understanding between the two of them. Logan had only given control of industry to Reaver because he couldn't manage it by himself and Reaver would make a lot more money. Faraday would have been ideal, but he had refused to follow Logan's orders. A shame. But Reaver had eagerly come up with all sorts of ways to earn money - many of them were turned down, but that never seemed to dissuade him any. Reaver had been his most powerful and useful ally in this.

Minutes passed and Logan didn't say anything. He folded his legs and leaned back on his hands, getting a bit more comfortable physically, but the silence was thick and horribly awkward. He knew he was expected to speak or leave, and he had no intention of doing either.

"...I don't really know what happened in there." He finally speaks, though it's soft. Maybe Reaver won't hear...?

Reaver is quiet for so long that it most likely seems as though he didn't, in fact, hear anything; he's back to sketching something, the nib of the pen scratching softly against the rough surface of the paper, face set in the usual easy, casually arrogant expression. He doesn't look up when he speaks, though his voice is as calm as the soft smirk playing across his features.

"You were hardly the only one who heard it. Or, rather, didn't hear it - that's a bit more accurate, isn't it." He glances up, seeking out eye contact for the briefest of moments before returning to the task at hand. "So if it's any consolation, you weren't losing your mind."

The silence is awkward and Logan isn't sure if he should speak up or not. He didn't necessarily want Reaver to hear, he just wanted to break the silence. Right?

He sits up a bit when Reaver starts speaking - not that he's eager to hold a conversation or anything - and meets that eye contact for a moment before looking away. He didn't think he was the only one hearing those things, did he? ...Did he? The relief is immense though, so perhaps he really did fear he was the only one hearing them.

"I suppose that's good to know." And it is. He's not completely insane yet. That is a relief.

Logan shifts a bit, suddenly awkward. "Are you... going back in there tomorrow?" Reaver had seemed eager to explore this place. Was he still so interested in it?

Reaver's answer is immediate. "Oh, of course - a bit of a waste if I don't, I imagine."

Reaver has never had reason to fear whatever's been driving Logan insane for the last several years - not in the same way Logan does, anyway. He dislikes the thing, certainly, and he's far from dismissing Logan's terror as a baseless fear; he has more than enough experience with Shadows to know what they can cause, and from the sound of it, the whatever-it-was was worse in several ways. After all, the Shadows, at least, are content to rip you up physically, while the thing in the desert...well. It's fairly obvious that Logan hasn't been quite right for a while now.

On the other hand, Reaver had faced something out there, but he had never gotten a decent idea of what that something was; it had been enough to deter him from wanting to return anywhere near areas like the Shifting Sands anytime soon, but not enough to stop him entirely when presented with possibilities like this. And besides, it isn't as though whatever was in the desert could follow them here - logically, at least, he knows that. Yes, fine, it had been unpleasant in the ruins just now - but now that he's prepared and knows what caused it, it can't possibly be that bad, as far as he's concerned.

Logan doesn't answer at first, instead he rakes a hand back through his hair, doing the usual of gripping at the ends when he comes to them. He's obviously agitated. This means they'll be staying here for at least another day. He knows Reaver will find a way to catch up to him if he decides to leave - which he will, especially if Reaver's still here by nightfall - but being alone really isn't much better. It's funny, he's never had any issues with being alone before now. Maybe it was because he was always surrounded by people and he wanted to be left alone. "Be careful what you wish for," and all that.

When he finally speaks he sounds as confident as usual. It's his expression that gives him away - Logan looks tired, and it's not from the lack of sleep or stress of ruling Albion. It's a different sort of tired, but Reaver has never really had any issues seeing through him. He doubts this will be a first. "I understand. I believe Violet City is close by; I'll be there if you need me."

"Well, if it doesn't explode within a day of your arrival, you can assume we've found a winner."

Despite the lightness in his tone, however, Reaver's attention has shifted back to Logan rather than what he's been drawing over there; again, the primary difference is in the look in his eyes, rather than anything else he's doing with his expression - it's clear that he's studying him. There's a sort of awkwardness accompanying the ensuing silence, as well - it's something that's relatively rare with Reaver, really; almost as though he's trying to find something to say and not quite managing. Or perhaps he's deliberating. Who knows.

And then the moment is gone, and Reaver's tone is back to the usual offhanded irreverence, as though nothing odd may have just gone through his pretty little head and everything is perfectly normal.

"I find it's easier to get the unwanted thoughts out of my head somewhere." Another few scratches of that pen against the paper. "I'm not begging you to tell me what's going on with you, mind you, particularly if it's not what you feel like doing - just telling you to purge it all somehow. Write it down, doodle some morbid illustrations, tell your bloody Snivy for all I care. It'll at least get it out there so you can move on for the time being."

That's... unfortunately very true. Their luck has been amazing. Though really, Logan can't say he's surprised. His luck has always been horrible.

The silence doesn't bother him any - it's not long enough for him to start wondering if he should say something, and it's rather clear that Reaver is thinking. When he finally speaks again, Logan tips his head a bit in thought. He hasn't tried that method, if only because there's no such thing as privacy when you're the goddamn king. Writing things down would have been the same as telling the staff; someone would have gotten hold of the writings and rumors would have spread like wildfire. It hadn't been an option back home, so he had dismissed it easily here. Would it really be beneficial to write it down? Where would he even start?

Of course it might be easier to talk about it, and Reaver does have a point; speaking of it to something that won't tell anyone might be the best option. The only problem with that is the complete lack of understanding, but if it's just to get it all off his chest that should work, right?

Logan can't deny that the most relief he's felt in years was actually talking to Reaver about all this. He didn't say much and he can only imagine what it would feel like to tell him everything. It's an amazing and horrible thought. This is Reaver, there's absolutely no way he can trust Reaver to keep his mouth shut about all of that. Maybe he won't say anything here (what does he stand to gain from blabbing here anyway?) but back home? Logan shifts uncomfortably again. He's not sure what to do, is it obvious?

"Thank you for the advice." He finally offers. He falls silent again and it seems like that's it. Logan feels like that's all it's going to be.

...And then he starts talking again. "I don't remember what happened there either. It's all a blur; the dreams haven't helped any. I can't separate reality from what my mind's come up with in the past four years. I believe that's worse than not knowing at all. The... nightmares vary, of course. There are all sorts of explanations for how my men died, but the truth is I simply don't know what happened. It's frustrating."

He glances downward, resting his hands on his knees. "I don't remember enough to fully know what to expect when it attacks Albion. I don't know how to properly prepare."

...and this would be why he never asks - he now has entirely too much information and no idea what he's expected to do with any of it. Really, Logan, are you expecting him to just stand here and act like a sounding board? Are you looking for advice? Are you just talking to hear yourself talk? Surely you don't want any sympathy for any of this...

"Well, I can certainly see why you never told anyone any of that." His tone is dry, but it's lacking bite; it isn't nearly as vicious as it would have been in any sort of normal situation. "As it is, I don't know that there's any way you can prepare, outside of what you're already doing. Raise enough of an army to fight the thing; hope more escape with their lives than don't. That's all you really can do, at least in my experience - I've never faced down this...monstrous thing of yours, but I've seen enough."

"If a few have to die, it is to save a country." Logan replies with a stiff nod. "I tried to find other solutions, but this is the only way I can think to combat it."

Not that it really matters anymore. Everything is out of his hands now. The Hero of Brightwall will take the throne in a matter of days and Logan's fate will be decided soon. He's not worried about that at all - should his sibling decide to kill him for his crimes, then fine. Perhaps he deserves it. He doesn't believe that will happen, of course, but it would be a far kinder end than dying to the Crawler.

"Did you hear it?" He suddenly asks, glancing back up at Reaver. "Did it speak to you? You fought the Children; did you hear the Crawler?"

It takes him a moment to answer that, really; had he heard it? He had assumed that it was the Shadows - part of the hallucination, really, as trying to figure out what that odd black...whatnot had been involved following it a bit; needless to say, he hadn't gotten very far before there had been a large amount of unpleasantness in his head. But now that he thinks about it...

He shrugs a bit. "I may have; it was difficult to know exactly what was happening and what wasn't. It seems it's a regular charmer like that."

Logan relaxes then. Good, he wasn't the only one who heard it. He doesn't remember what happened down there, but he thought he remembered his guards calling out to it, so presumably they had heard it too. But that could have been something that had only happened in the dreams; it was incredibly difficult to tell. He finally nods slowly.

"Yes indeed. It... taunted you as well, didn't it?" Another pause. "It said things it shouldn't have known. Did it do the same to you?"

Any writing Reaver may have been doing previously has stopped entirely by now; he keeps his gaze fixed on Logan, though he's taken to playing with the pen between the fingers of his right hand, pinning it between two of them and flicking it back and forth irritably.

"To put things simply, Your Majesty, the entire incident was composed of things it shouldn't have known."

"Illusions?"

Reaver is the only other person in Albion who has faced that thing - at least to Logan's knowledge. The rebels fled across the sea, but perhaps they were lucky enough to avoid fighting it. He hopes that's the case; he wouldn't wish that on anyone. Reaver clearly has more concrete memories of what happened than Logan does, and he's curious to find out just what happened to Reaver.

"It said things it shouldn't have known; it taunted us all the way through until we actually found it. The Children possessed the statues and controlled them but..."

...That's not all they possessed, was it?

"...I wouldn't put illusions past them."

The motion of that pen stops for a second before starting up again; while his tone remains perfectly calm, it's fairly obvious from that gesture and the tension in his stance that Reaver is becoming agitated with the conversation.

"I wouldn't say it was full illusions - mostly hearing things that I had no reason to be hearing again. Details from incidents that happened a bit before your time - as in, by a few hundred years."

Logan doesn't respond immediately; he's not exactly great at reading people, but he's spent four years around Reaver and this is definitely reading as wrong. Reaver is usually quite calm and relaxed (perhaps a bit too relaxed) and this... isn't normal.

It never really occurs to Logan that Reaver has been around for hundreds of years until he flat-out says it. Reaver has probably experienced some horrible things in his time. Finally the king nods. "I see." He's content to leave it at that. He doesn't fully understand - how could he? - but he does see.

"...I appreciate you listening to me." He finally adds, a bit hesitant.

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You can never escape darkness, it flocks to you always.

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