The Devil of Delos (Youjo Senki/Westworld)

[FireWalkWithMe99]

TANYA


Tanya adjusted the collar of her crisp white blouse, it was a sterile sort of perfection, about the exact opposite of what she had to manage daily. She didn't really need to be here— not this late, at least—but control and success belonged to those who anticipated the cracks before the inevitable fracture. The numbers on the screen before her, reminded her of old mission reports.


"Curse you Being X," she muttered under her breath. "Delos hemorrhages cash like a wounded animal, and no one seems to notice."


That wasn't entirely true of course. Logan noticed. Sometimes. When he wasn't nursing a drink or charming someone's pants off.


Juliet sighed and returned her focus to the quarterly projections. Rubbing her temples, trying to massage away the beginning of what promised to be a spectacular headache. Maybe she should call it a night for once.


The majority of the building had emptied hours ago, and the silence now was only broken by the light rain along the glass panes of her office.


Just as she was about to lock her computer and call it a night, she heard the telltale sound of expensive leather shoes clicking down the hallway. The rhythm was familiar and unhurried, with a slight mismatch in step. Juliet froze, her pulse quickening despite herself.


Speak of the devil.


The glass door to her office swung open without a knock, revealing Logan, whiskey glass dangling lazily in one hand. His tailored blazer hung open, her brothers as usual a picture of casual extravagance. He sauntered in as if the room belonged to him. Which, technically, it did.


"Juliet," he drawled, leaning against the frame. His voice was rich, easy, and edged with just the right amount of mischief to make most people backpedal. "Burning the midnight oil again? You know, this company's not going to write you into its will."


Tanya didn't bother looking up. "Someone has to ensure there's a company left to inherit. Or did you have other plans to bleed us dry?"


Logan chuckled, a low, melodic sound that didn't quite reach his eyes. "God, I love your optimism. Really. But honestly? You're going to kill yourself at this rate. Or worse—turn into Dad."


That got her attention. Tanya's eyes flicked up sharply. "The difference is that I don't mix recklessness with ambition."


Logan raised his glass in a mock salute. "Touché." He wandered over to the sleek leather couch in the corner and collapsed onto it, stretching out like a lazy cat. "But here's the thing, Jules. If you're always walking on eggshells, you're not exactly dancing, are you?"


Tanya leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. "I assume you're here for more than philosophical musings."


Logan grinned. "Always so direct. Fine. I've got an idea. Bold. Risky. Could change everything."


Tanya arched a brow. "I'm already skeptical."


"Good. You'll love it then." He propped his feet up on a side table, ignoring the death glare she gave. "Picture this: the park experience, but with a little less…restraint. We pull back the curtain and let guests indulge their basest instincts without consequence. No limits. No judgment. Just pure, unfiltered humanity."


Tanya's stare was blank. "You want to monetize moral decay."


Logan shrugged, the grin never leaving his face. "You make it sound so dirty. But think about it. People pay for escape, and the more we give them to escape into, the more they'll pay."


"Or they revolt," Tanya countered. "Public opinion shifts, the parks become a scandal, and Delos goes bankrupt while you're off enjoying the afterparty."


"See? That's why I need you," Logan said, sitting up. "You're the brakes to my engine."


"No," Tanya said flatly. "I'm the one steering the car. You're the guy trying to pour tequila in place of gas."


Logan laughed, genuinely this time. "God, you're exhausting. Did anyone ever tell you that?"


"You have frequently," Tanya replied. "Usually before I proved you wrong."


"Look," Logan said, leaning forward, the charm giving way to something sharper. "You keep treating me like some drunken idiot stumbling into meetings. And yeah, sure, I enjoy myself. But that doesn't mean I don't know what I'm Doing."


Tanya paused, studying him. For all his indulgence, there were moments like this. He wasn't wrong. His instincts, when he wasn't clouded by distraction, were often frighteningly accurate. And that made him more dangerous than she liked to admit.


"You're not an idiot," she said finally. "But you are reckless. And that recklessness is going to get you killed or worse."


Logan tilted his head, smirking faintly. "You know what I think? I think you're just scared to admit that sometimes, a little chaos is what we need."


"And I think you're too addicted to chaos to realize it's a short-term thrill with long-term consequences."


Logan stood, draining the last of his drink. "Well, as much fun as this has been, I've got a meeting tomorrow to pitch this idea. Dad wants me to lead it, but…" He hesitated, uncharacteristically uncertain. "You'd probably do it better."


Tanya raised an eyebrow. "Is that your way of asking for help?"


"Let's call it delegating," Logan said, flashing his trademark grin. "Come on, Jules. You love playing the hero."


Curse you, Being X, Tanya thought bitterly. Even in this life, she was still cleaning up other people's messes. But she exhaled, unwilling to let Delos—or Logan—sink under bad decisions. "Fine. I'll support the pitch. But you're coming with me. And you're staying sober."


Logan mock-saluted. "Yes, ma'am. Anything else, Your Highness?"


"Yes," Tanya said, fixing him with a glare. "Stop calling me Jules."

As Logan left, Tanya turned back to her screen. Logan's recklessness was a liability, but his insight made him impossible to dismiss. She had no doubt that his latest gamble would stir up trouble, one way or another. The question was whether she could keep the chaos contained this time.


She smirked, more nostalgic than anything. "Another battlefield," she muttered. "Same rules. Adapt. Win. Survive." And maybe, just maybe, she'd teach Logan a thing or two about discipline along the way. At least he stopped taking those ridiculously named designer drugs that mining heiress kept pushing on him.

---

The boardroom held its typical affair of quiet conversation among the executives. She always let their conversations persist. She suspected they didn't think she was really listening much of the time. Let their assumption be their undoing was her philosophy.


Though none of the current batch of upper leadership particularly bothered her that doesn't mean they wouldn't in the future, the only leadership that truly ground her gears were two people in particular, the ongoing hushed conversations all going flat as soon as one entered the room.


Tanya watched as James Delos took his place at the head of the table, his presence commanding without effort.


She didn't dislike him, not exactly. Respect, she had in spades. Admiration? That was more complicated. James was undeniably competent he built a corporate empire—but he lacked vision, for the past few decades. He managed what was in front of him and saw little else. Such short-sightedness had led to some costly mistakes, the kind Tanya had grown used to quietly fixing.


Across the table, Logan leaned back in his chair lazily, in a way that could disarm even the most guarded room. Tanya couldn't deny that Logan had a talent for reading people, when he wasn't indulging his worst impulses, he was sharp. Sharp enough that she wondered just how much of his recklessness was deliberate, a way of keeping everyone including her off-balance.


"Logan," Father said, acknowledging her with a nod. She returned it. The room fell silent as Logan began to speak.


Logan leaned forward and straightened his tie. He always made an effort when he wanted something. "Look, we all know the parks are fucking revolutionary," he said, ignoring their father's slight frown. "But they're too... sterile. Too safe. The guests can feel it, even if they don't know why." He gestured expansively. "They come looking for escape, but what do they really want? Freedom. The kind that lets them be who they really are, consequences be damned. And that's what we need to give them."


Victor Navarro tilted his head. "And how do we control that? Guests already push limits, and it's our oversight that keeps it from spilling over. If you're suggesting removing those limits entirely—"


"Not entirely," Logan interjected smoothly. "We don't throw out the playbook. We evolve it. let them think they're in control, let them believe they're untouchable." A predatory smile played on his lips. "Trust me, that kind of power? It sells itself."


Ellen Mercer frowned. "Illusions only work until someone sees through them. And when they do, the fallout can be catastrophic. Guests want to push boundaries, yes, but not at the expense of safety—or our reputation."


Karen Cho leaned forward, her expression skeptical. "The PR nightmare alone could bury us. The parks are already controversial. This would be gasoline on the fire."


Logan's smirk faltered just slightly, though he recovered quickly. "Controversy sells, doesn't it? People crave the edge of danger. We give them that, and they'll pay whatever it takes."


Tanya spoke before anyone else could respond, "Logan's instinct is correct," she began, her gaze sweeping the room cutting down any potential naysayers where they stood.


"People do want freedom but only the kind that feels safe. The illusion of chaos, as he said, is not the true reality. Our guests need to believe they're in control truly "Living without limits" , even when we're the ones pulling the strings."


All eyes turned to her, the skepticism softening a bit; it was rare her and Logan teamed up on a proposal after all.


"We start small," she continued. "A pilot program. Controlled environments, limited groups. We study behavior and find the right balance between indulgence and oversight. Guests get to push boundaries but within carefully designed parameters. The goal isn't to remove the rules—it's to hide them."


James Delos leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. Tanya met her father's gaze without hesitation. "A measured approach minimizes risk while maximizing profit," she said. "It ensures long-term growth without jeopardizing the company's reputation and lifeblood."

Victor Navarro nodded thoughtfully. "It's pragmatic. Controlled expansion is easier to manage than a full-scale overhaul."

"And it allows us to test the waters without committing fully. If it fails, the damage is contained." The previously critical Ellen Mercer added.


Logan stayed quiet, though she could feel his eyes on her. His expression smiled, but Tanya knew him well enough to sense the frustration beneath his calm façade that'd soon make itself known.


James finally spoke, his voice lower than normal. "Juliet's plan has merit. We'll proceed with the pilot. Logan, you'll oversee it—with Juliet's guidance."


Logan's jaw tightened just slightly, but he smiled. "Of course. Anything for the family."

---

As the boardroom emptied, Logan caught up with Tanya in the hallway. The easy charm he'd worn earlier was long gone. "You didn't have to take over in there, Jules," he said, his voice like an angry brick. "Despite my ask last night, I had it under control."


Tanya turned to face him. "You were losing them, Logan. They weren't going to buy into your pitch the way you framed it."


Logan stepped closer, a low fire fueling his eyes. "So you decided to swoop in and save the day? God, you're just like Dad sometimes."


Tanya's jaw tightened at the comparison but didn't rise to the bait. "What I did was ensure the board approved the idea. Your idea. Whether you like it or not, that means I can't let you fail—because when you do, we all do."


Logan laughed bitterly, running a hand through his hair. "You think you're so much better than me, don't you? Always the one with the answers."

"I don't think, I'm better," Tanya said, her voice softening slightly. "I know how to get things done. And when you start focusing on what's important instead of playing the charming rogue, you'll see that too."


For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Logan sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly.
"One day, Jules," he said, a faint smirk returning to his face. "You're going to realize I know what I'm doing."


Tanya allowed herself a small smile. "When you stop making me clean up your messes, maybe I will."

---

Back in her office, Tanya stared out at the city, the skyline a sea of light and shadow at this hour. Logan's words lingered as a reminder prompting her to mentally reevaluate their roles.

"I may not be on the Rhine anymore but The battlefield still doesn't care about feelings, whether with human or monetary capital" she murmured, turning back to her desk.


Her intercom system buzzed. "Mr. Grace is asking for you, Ms. Delos."


"Send him in." Tanya straightened a stack of papers, more out of habit than necessity. The door opened, and William entered with that careful precision she'd noticed from day one. No wasted movement, no false charm - just quiet competence, a trait the company seems to fail to capitalize on again and again.


"The numbers for the Paris Survivor Project," he said without preamble, placing a folder on her desk. His promotion hadn't changed his directness - good.


Tanya opened it, eyes scanning the projections. The photographs tucked into the report caught her attention - aerial views of the devastation post the October 9th, 2025 Nuclear bombing. For a moment, she was back on the Rhine, watching cities burn.


Tanya looked up at William before diving in farther. "Initial assessment?"


"It's viable," William said, his voice measured. "But the margins are thinner than projected. The French regulatory framework is..." He paused, choosing his words. "Complex. Especially regarding aid to military personnel and civilians."


"Meaning expensive," Tanya translated, noting how he'd highlighted specific compliance costs in red. Her eyes lingered on a line item for prosthetics and rehabilitation services. "But necessary."


"Yes. But..." William tapped a section of the report. "There's an opportunity here. If we restructure through the Dutch subsidiary—"


"We could bypass the stricter EU requirements," Tanya finished, a faint smile touching her lips. "Good. Draft a proposal. I want options on my desk by Thursday. And William?"


He paused at the door.


"Include expanded coverage for veteran services. The board can stomach lower margins if we frame it correctly." Her voice cooled. "After all, nothing generates goodwill quite like helping heroes in war-torn countries."


The words tasted bitter, but they'd serve their purpose. If she could turn her understanding of war into something productive, even for PR's sake... well, Being X would probably be cursing the irony.


William nodded, turning to leave. Then hesitated. "Logan… uh, Mr. Delos… seemed agitated when he left."


"Logan's always agitated about something." Tanya didn't look up from the report. "Usually himself."
"He mentioned drinks at Le Baron. Said something about 'teaching me how to live.'"


Now she did look up, catching the careful neutrality in William's expression. "My brother has many talents. Teaching isn't one of them."


William's lips twitched slightly. "Noted, Ms. Delos."


As the door closed behind him, Tanya returned to the numbers. Between Logan's volatility and their father's stubbornness, she needed people she could rely on. William might be new to the executive floor, but he understood what mattered: results.


Besides, she thought with grim amusement, anyone who could resist Logan's particular brand of corruption was worth keeping an eye on.

---

A.N. This story begins roughly two years before an early Westworld canon event (Logan and William's trip). As Tanya is Juliet, expect significant canon divergences. The narrative will expand beyond Tanya's POV across multiple chapters (8 completed so far).

Inspired in part by A Young Woman's Inevitable Dance with Dragons by Failninja and my interest in the underexplored early years of Westworld (Ford, James Delos, Logan, and young William). As a CS major with research in tech companies and project management, I've tried to make the corporate elements authentic. While the Delos family dynamics are central, there's plenty for Westworld fans to enjoy beyond corporate politics.

For those unaware, the Paris nuclear disaster isn't my creation but established Westworld lore – Paris was nukedin late 2025. This fits my timeline, as the Logan/William Park visit occurs around 2027 (though the show's exact timeline has some ambiguity).

Also, I made William's last name Grace because we never learn his last name in any of the canons (I searched hard), and well since Emily's character is named Emily Grace in alot of Westworld material. I'm just going with the assumption Grace is William's last name or it was his old last name before marrying into the Delos family. Could be wrong on that but for the sake of this fic his last name is Grace.

 

[NavigatorNobilis]

Currently watching the fourth season of Westworld, and as a huge fan of a good Tanya-fic - this looks great! Especially since, as you say, those early years are woefully overlooked.

 

[FireWalkWithMe99]

Currently watching the fourth season of Westworld, and as a huge fan of a good Tanya-fic - this looks great! Especially since, as you say, those early years are woefully overlooked.

Click to shrink...

Thanks nice to hear another westworld fan is enjoying it. I do think season 1 is kind of the best overall, but still enjoyed alot of the little tidbits we learned about the past in season 2 and the elements about the world of season 3 (such as paris and also the fact that EU has a different structure overall Scotland being independent and wales being separated from england )

So needless to say ill be exploring that a tad especially since I imagine Tanya would also find the the make up of the EU sort of personal interest giving her prior life.

Hope you enjoy whats to come, it won't solely be tanya pov some of it will be Logan and others. Hope I can do everyone justice.

 

[suspectman2002]

Is Tanya going to marry a man in this? I always found that gross given he was a very straight adult man. But to each their own.

 

[FireWalkWithMe99]

Is Tanya going to marry a man in this? I always found that gross given he was a very straight adult man. But to each their own.

Click to shrink...

I have no plans for Tanya to be in any relationship in this and if she would get in a relationship it'd be with a Woman in all likelihood but even that is unlikely

 

[SuperPulp2789]

I only watched the first two seasons of Westworld

But I really gotta say, I don't believe that William is a psychopath

Something about Westworld and his experiences therein just BROKE him into becoming a sociopath doing extreme cruelty to the hosts to awaken something inside of him and inside of them as well

 

[FireWalkWithMe99]

I only watched the first two seasons of Westworld

But I really gotta say, I don't believe that William is a psychopath

Something about Westworld and his experiences therein just BROKE him into becoming a sociopath doing extreme cruelty to the hosts to awaken something inside of him and inside of them as well

Click to shrink...

I pretty much agree with the consensus i do think William think had a capacity for darkness (notice he asks the host angela (what does everyone else usually pick) in episode 2. which kind of reminds me of how sociopaths might mask and act like regular people.

though i dont think he was destined to be the mib

i think that came with circumstances and maybe in another life he wouldbe kept that sidebof himself less engaged.

i think it was a mix of giving into his worst impulses and just bad situation

 

[SuperPulp2789]

I pretty much agree with the consensus i do think William think had a capacity for darkness (notice he asks the host angela (what does everyone else usually pick) in episode 2. which kind of reminds me of how sociopaths might mask and act like regular people.

though i dont think he was destined to be the mib

i think that came with circumstances and maybe in another life he wouldbe kept that sidebof himself less engaged.

i think it was a mix of giving into his worst impulses and just bad situation

Click to shrink...

He honestly feels quite angry, if subtle, at the world, at Westworld, at himself, at everybody else

I think he legit did feel love, but then switched to angry and nihilistic

 

[FireWalkWithMe99]

LOGAN

Logan swirled the amber liquid, watching how it spun in the low light. Bourbon. Neat. Woodford his usual.

It burned less tonight, or maybe he just felt too numb to notice. The mild hint of vanilla oak still was tantalizing against his nostrils despite its lack of wanted heat.


Some Elvis song was playing in the bar - one of those old classics that outlived the man by half a century. He may be a long-gone has-been now, but he built something that lasted. "Sun lights up the daytime, moon lights up the night," Logan hummed, not giving a damn who might hear. Cataloging faces across the bar floor until it locked on one in particular.


Carson. That smug bastard from Crylonis Tech. Golden boy of R&D who practically radiated contempt during last month's tech conference panel.


Tonight, though, Carson was five drinks in and looking considerably less composed, tie loose and lonely eyes. Logan's lips curled into something wolfish.


Amazing what company secrets could slip between the sheets after the right combination of flattery, liquor, and a bit of body language and charm. Besides he looked pathetic, if anything it could be a therapeutic experience for the rigid nearunforgettable, Though perhaps one of the finer Cylonis higher-ups was around as well... what he couldn't give for even a night with Kyla.


He was already calculating his approach when Juliet's voice and that twisted grin flashed in his mind slicing the beginnings of a buzz: "If recklessness was a stock, you'd be a blue-chip asset." He could practically see her—crossed arms now, that gaze that cut through his bullshit with terror.


Logan tossed back the rest of his drink, slamming it just a bit louder than needed. When the hell had his sister's disapproval started following him into bars? And more disturbingly—when had he started listening?


What did she know about legacies anyway? Real impact wasn't about carefully preserved systems and balanced spreadsheets. It was about those moments that burned like top-shelf whiskey - memories like a song reaching through decades to fill an overpriced bar, making even the most mundane feel something for just a few goddamn minutes. That was power. That was the point.


"You didn't have to take over in there." His words played in his head, the ones he hadn't quite managed to fully articulate.

Instead, Jules had done what she always did stepped in, smoothed things over, and left.


The worst part? She wasn't entirely wrong. But that didn't make it easier.


He recalled her philosophy on business viability, it had merit. But Juliet was so focused on planning ahead she missed the opportunities in between. The best experiences are those of temperance, not that which was ground steady.


Jules wasn't Dad, not exactly, but sometimes she came damn close. The way she looked at him in that boardroom.


And wasn't that the kicker? Juliet, for all her razor-sharp brilliance, still saw him as a liability to be managed, contained rather than unleashed. Like he couldn't see the bigger picture she was so obsessed with protecting.

Logan cherished the last few drops of warm amber. "The perfect daughter," he muttered, signaling for another drink. "The perfect executive. The perfect..." He laughed softly. "Well, the perfect everything."


He kept up with the boring fucking numbers too! Even if people tended to forget. No, what made Juliet different was how she wielded those boring figures.


The fond memory of that day came back to him. Logan wasn't sure what he had been expecting when he pitched the Argos Initiative to the Delos board, but it wasn't a slaughter.


He had been excited. Practically bouncing in his chair, barely keeping his grin in check as the old fucks on the board started to tear into the project.

---

"It's an amusement park, Logan. A glorified tech demo."


"The cost alone—"


"Not to mention the ethical complications. You're asking us to greenlight a project with fully autonomous artificial life forms, programmed with suffering as a fundamental function?"


He had been prepared to fight. He wanted to fight. It was what he did best—barrel through objections with the force of his personality, bend them to his will.


But Juliet had beaten him to it that day.

She had stood up—slowly, precisely, her tablet may as well have a revolver with how effectively she wielded that thing.

"Gentlemen."

Just one simple word. Yet, It made every painfully predictable dullard at that table shut the fuck up she rarely spoke at pitches at least back then.

"You're not looking at a theme park attraction. You're looking at the future of human engineering."

Logan still remembered how casually she dismantled them.

Every financial concern? Answered, with projected revenue streams so airtight that even the old man himself hadn't raised an eyebrow.

Every ethical concern reframed.

"You say it's dangerous? Everything profitable is."

"You say people will object? Perhaps. But they'll still pay for it."

"We're not asking them to believe in it. We're just asking them to want it."
It was a beautiful thing, watching Juliet work.

Not in the sentimental sense. No violins or piano concertos. Just the way she didn't flinch. Locking every board dead in the eye and using their own name like it was a scalpel.

They thought she was soft. Mistook her quiet calm and lack of interruptions as weakness.

Idiots.


When that old dinosaur Pierce —the biggest cynic of the lot whose stranglehold against company progress only was rivaled by James Delos himself, fucker had been around since before Logan was born— so of course he leaned forward, narrowed his eyes, and said:

"And what do you propose we do with this… 'future of human consciousness?'"

Logan had opened his mouth. Ready to talk about vice, excess, sin—the shit that made Westworld worth investing in.
Juliet had beat him to it.

"Data mining," she said smoothly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Behavioral profiling. Surveillance."

The old cynic looked back at her nodding, "Spying?".

Logan nearly choked on his spit.

And the shift in the room was easy to feel.

"Every host is a potential information mine," she continued. "Every guest, an opportunity. Politicians. CEOs. Generals. Bankers. Investors. Everyone who steps into that park… trusts that what happens there stays there. Imagine if we knew everything they wanted to forget."

Logan hadn't even considered that angle.

But fuck if it didn't work.

By the time she was finished, the room was silent.

And James Delos the ever-judging, out of touch bastard that he was watching both of them with a look Logan had seen often grace his features.

Discomfort.

And yet, the board caved and the signatures went down, Logan still felt it—that deep, animal buzz humming in his blood.

The primal sense pulsed in his chest and curled his fingers like they were clawing away at the world itself. You won. You took it. You fought and they did not. Better, Always fucking better. Ad victoriam.

Because at the end of the day, it was his idea. Even if Juliet had sold it better, and a week later?

That board member Mr. Obstruction himself was gone. Golden parachute. Severance package with more zeroes than even James cared to give the man. Started some little boutique firm in Connecticut.


But end of the day he was out of their hair. Logan wasn't blind. He knew whose idea that was.


Jules hadn't raised her voice once… just slipped the knife in while smiling.
And once Pierce was out of the way. Everything got easier for the both of them.
The board. Even their father.


She knew how to pick her battles. And win every single one. But now?


Now, that sight - Jules outmaneuvering shareholders and steamrolling the board wasn't rare. It was expected, which burned a fuck ton more than this whiskey. For all the offense he brought to those unambitious penny pinchers. Juliet didn't even have to raise her voice. She was the eye of the storm.


Ironic really. His own sister. At times colder than the hosts walking around the South China sea.


Even El Lazo wouldn't be half as merciless as Jules on a bad day.
And fuck, that coldness worked to Logan's benefit... most of the time.
Didn't mean it didn't chill him too.


The new bourbon arrived, and Logan grabbed it eagerly. She's probably at the office again, even with it nearly being last call. Running scenarios, planning contingencies, thinking five moves ahead while those imbeciles are still clinging to step 1.


"Life isn't meant to be preserved under glass," he muttered, welcoming the deeper, smokier burn. This one was better. Different.

You can't treat every moment like a pin on a corkboard forever Jules, God was she good at it, But she missed the magic that came from chaos, from those unrepeatable moments when everything could either soar or crash. The park could be like that with just a bit of refinement. Every guest's story unique, every experience impossible to truly replicate. But Juliet wanted to control it, to sand down the edges until it was predictable. She didn't understand that the unknown made it real.

That was the thing about Juliet - she never just played the game. She dissected it, rebuilt it to suit her needs. Every conversation a strategic opportunity. Sometimes he wondered if she ever got tired of being so... precise.

He told her once that she was going to micromanage herself to an ealry grave.

She just gave him that chilling little smile, the one that made even the old man shut the hell up and said, "Better that than dying by your definition of freedom."

Whatever.

She could keep her spotless corner office and 10- year plans counting risks. He'd continue counting stories.

---

The morning sun stabbed through half-closed blinds like particularly vindictive daggers. Logan squinted at his phone - three missed calls- Juliet. Of course.

His head throbbed in protest as he sat up, taking in the aftermath of... whatever last night had become. Clothes scattered across designer furniture, empty bottles creating their own abstract art installation on his coffee table. There was something almost beautiful about the disarray of it all.

"Meeting in an hour," Juliet's latest text read. "Don't be late."

Logan considered his options with the kind of detached amusement that came with expensive hangovers. He'd been sober yesterday morning - insultingly sober. Wasn't life the freedom to be gloriously, alive?

His gaze drifted to the nightstand where a half-empty bottle of bourbon sat next to a familiar rolled note he cared to forget. The bourbon was warm, flat - nothing like last night's careful selection. But maybe that was the point. Nothing good lasted forever. That's what made even the worst of things appreciated.

As he reached for the bottle, his eyes caught his reflection in the mirror above the nightstand. Dark eyes, nearly bottomless stared back, blurred at the edges like they couldn't quite decide where the the iris ended and pupil began.

He held the stare a second too long sinking into it.

Then he smiled. That old, crooked smirk.

"Hair of the dog," he muttered, taking a deeper swig. "And maybe a little breakfast of champions."

After all, if his sister was going to spend her morning optimizing spreadsheets, the least he could do was optimize his mood. The fine white powder seemed to sparkle with morning light, just as fresh snow.

Benjamin Franklin's stern expression stared up at him from the crisp bill. Logan smirked. "Sorry, Ben. But you know what they say about time being money..."

In an hour, he'd walk into that meeting, focus turned up to eleven, ideas flowing like wine. Juliet would give him that look - the one that said she knew exactly what he'd been up to - but she was never one to argue with results.

Logan checked his reflection, adjusting his collar just the slightest bit. Time to face another day in the obnoxiously ordered world of Delos Incorporated.


The elevator doors had barely opened when Logan heard his father's distinctive brogue echoing down the hallway.


"There ye are Finally!" James Delos's face was already flushed with that particular shade of red it got when quarterly projections weren't met. Or when Logan enjoyed himself too loudly in his general vicinity. "Been looking all over for ye."

Logan adjusted his tie, grateful for the chemical courage coursing through his system. "Dad. Bit early for a family chat, isn't it?"


"Early? Some of us actually work for our money, boy." James's eyes narrowed, taking in Logan's appearance with that familiar mix of disappointment and disgust. "Though I suppose ye wouldn't know much about that, would you? Too busy obsessing about your fancy theme park robots?"

"They're not just robots, Dad." Logan kept his sharpened. "They're the future. If you actually bothered to listen yesterday—"


"Listen?" James barked out a laugh. "Aye, I listened plenty. Listened to you prattle on about consciousness and innovation while dear Juliet cleaned up after ye. Again." He stepped closer, jabbing a finger at Logan's chest. "Between you and those fucking tin men, and Juliet off with her bloody European interests, you two are running this company every which way but straight!"


Logan's smile tightened. "The world's changing, Dad. Maybe you should try it sometime."


"Changed?" James's accent thickened. "I didn't get rich by chasing every fancy that crossed my path like some shite-for-cash artist! We stick to what works. What's proven. What's—"


"Profitable?" Logan interrupted, feeling reckless. "Like the Argos Initiative. Which has been bringing us profits well above even the most generous projected ROI. Or are those numbers too 'fancy' for your taste too?"


For a moment, James looked like he might actually strike him. Instead, he just shook his head, disgust written across his features. "Yer mother would be ashamed," he muttered, turning away. "At least Juliet has some sense in that head of hers. When she's not enabling your nonsense."


Logan watched his father storm off, his blood turning bitter. "Love you too, Dad," he murmured to the empty hallway.


How could that man still not see the potential thats realized much less what is yet to come?


Well, fuck him. The park would continue to change everything. But first, he had a meeting to attend. Judging by the constant vibrating of his phone, Juliet was already counting the seconds until he was late.

---

A.N. Well here is Logan's first POV chapter hes a harder character to write, he's a character I definitely didn't like much initially watching westworld but in Hindsight he is actually pretty interesting and I actually enjoy reading some fics with him now.
Despite writing challenges, I do find him fun to write but also difficult to get in the headspace of. Also very different than Tanya. I would appreciate feedback cause i'm not 100% sure how well I got his voice down. Though I will say I think he will be a bit easier to write for now that I got his introductory chapter out of the way.

 

[SuperPulp2789]

I think what would be shocking to both the father and brother is her cold lack of sadism, somehow seeing it all as "just business"

I guess there could also be extra security for the inevitable AI uprising

 

[FireWalkWithMe99]

I think what would be shocking to both the father and brother is her cold lack of sadism, somehow seeing it all as "just business"

I guess there could also be extra security for the inevitable AI uprising

Click to shrink...

Logan and James definitely have a faulty read on Juliet/Tanya. Definitely will be interesting as the story continues.

 

[SuperPulp2789]

Logan and James definitely have a faulty fead on Juliet/Tanya. Definitely will be interesting as the story continues.

Click to shrink...

Just to make sure, are Hosts really more complicated as people compared to humans?


Because I am thinking of how the term NPC unfortunately does apply to most people, due to sheer lack of self initiative and/or self correction and a likeliness to just go with the flow with barely any real thought

I guess getting to die multiple times and forgetting it all but subconsciously remembering, would make their character more complicated

 

[FireWalkWithMe99]

Just to make sure, are Hosts really more complicated as people compared to humans?


Because I am thinking of how the term NPC unfortunately does apply to most people, due to sheer lack of self initiative and/or self correction and a likeliness to just go with the flow with barely any real thought

I guess getting to die multiple times and forgetting it all but subconsciously remembering, would make their character more complicated

Click to shrink...

To me hosts are very human like but regarding lore itself. In the setting of westworld its said Human's can't really fundamentally change but hosts can. I personally am not gonna take that too extreme as well I think people can change but some people don't and all change is not good change of course.

so i take that detail about hosts to mean, that Hosts have a higher capacity for change than a human. Some humans are npcs or change very little some people experience fundamental things that rock their world…

I have some character arcs planned and well a story where no one changes isnt the most exciting lol, so again not gonna treat that little lore tidbit on hosts ans humans super serious but I do think realistically hosts have a wider degree of experiences (and have experienced one thing very humans have death)

humans have had Near death experiences and have even died temporarily but its fundamentally different from what the hosts would experience on a near daily or atleast weekly basis (seems like the host loops lasted a couple days but obviouslys plenty of guests would mess up their loop and get them killed earlier than scripted)

so well needless to say they're processing power being much more high level than a humans combined with a frequent dose of death makes givrs them a unique perspective.

Though I felt even some hosts in the setting did kind of still feel like npcs even after the whole grand awakening of the hosts (and idk how much of that was intentional) but I think it shows that both humans and hosts are plenty capable of being npcs and/or falling into routine.

though i think they are a bit more capable of shifting this behavior than a human.

 

[NavigatorNobilis]

The later seasons - the third in particular - establishes that while most people are predictable, there are some who defy expectations. Not constantly, of course, otherwise the ripple effect alone would make any predictions worthless, but little choices here and there which occasionally add up to one great big society-disrupting wave.

I would rather say that the main difference between Humans and Hosts is a matter of Nurture rather than Nature; Hosts being made, whole cloth, and then trapped in a loop of no more than a few weeks, to live and suffer and die and live again, and again and again andagainagainandagain-!

... No shit Sherlock that they seem crazy. Who wouldn't be?

 

[FireWalkWithMe99]

The later seasons - the third in particular - establishes that while most people are predictable, there are some who defy expectations. Not constantly, of course, otherwise the ripple effect alone would make any predictions worthless, but little choices here and there which occasionally add up to one great big society-disrupting wave.

I would rather say that the main difference between Humans and Hosts is a matter of Nurture rather than Nature; Hosts being made, whole cloth, and then trapped in a loop of no more than a few weeks, to live and suffer and die and live again, and again and again andagainagainandagain-!

... No shit Sherlock that they seem crazy. Who wouldn't be?

Click to shrink...

The humans you are referring to are Outliers correct? (Ie people like Caleb)

I still find it a bit of a broad stroke to say majority of humanity outside of a small decimal percentage is incapable of change. Granted I definitely can understand the whole Human npc thing.

I will be exploring some season 3 stuff here as well (not quite as much as season 3 does but well alot of the elements that led to that society are either in place or kind of forming atm)

Regarding the trapped in a death loop thing. Interestingly I was watching rezero season 1 around the same time as I watched this shows first season (they both were out the same year if I recall)

Remember seeing all the mental tolls deaths took on Subaru, and thinking man westworld is like a bunch of characters experiencing that daily. Granted some deaths are worse than others like id say Maeves pivotal death or the shoguns for example (even if the latter was well deserved) was pretty gruesome or like dolore's first death of season 1 against mib.

Where like teddy or hector getting shot in the back by some overeager guest im sure thats traumatic to some but it doesnt quite have the same effect as like your whole family getting killed in front of you or your head getting sliced in half.