Servant's in Remnant Chapter 17 - part 1

Author's Note:

First off, I just want to say thank you to my Patron's. The last couple of months have been absolutely brutal on me, and I know that I haven't posted anything in that time. IRL hasn't been very nice at all. That is on me, and I am so grateful that you have stuck around despite that. I know I've lost a couple people because of the gap in time, and I respect their decision to stop supporting me. Hopefully things have finally let up enough that I can get back to writing. 

Servants in Remnant is the first story that I started writing, and it's been a while since I've updated it. Looking back on that first chapter, I think it's pretty easy to see that it's my first story as well... It's hard to explain what goes into writing a chapter - I have multiple chapters that are in various stages of completion, but it's so hard to actually finish them sometimes. Most of the time it's just because something... just won't click. It doesn't sound right. And it can sometimes take me a while to push through that. I'm going through that big time with the next chapter of "A Hero's Blessing" actually. It's so close to being done, and hopefully I'll be able to show it to you guys soon.

Anyways, you probably don't care about all of this, so here is part one of Chapter 17. Thank you so much for your patience and support, and please let me know what you think or what you'd like to see in the future. 

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Weiss and Sherlock

When Sherlock had offered to teach her, she had honestly been skeptical as to what exactly he could do.

It wasn’t arrogance, just fact. She was the top of her class at the Academy, had received the best tutors that money could buy, and had even gotten advice from her older sister, a prodigy in her own right. She wasn’t strong enough to go up against an actual Huntress, but that would naturally come with experience and time.

She was a Schnee. Excelling was not only expected of her, but necessary if she wanted to get away from the influence of her father.

That he was trying to sabotage her to ensure she remained in Atlas wasn’t a surprise. In his eyes he probably didn’t even see it as sabotage. He knew best, and all actions made were to twist the world to what he believed should be.

Her sister had joined the military to get away from his influence, only for Father to still make attempts. Weiss, therefore, would go even farther.

And really, there it was.

The only reason why she accepted Sherlock’s offer. At the very least, he had schematics of the automata that she might face as her final exam.

Still, she was no idiot. She was heiress to the Schnee fortune, and a young woman. Simply meeting with a stranger without backup was foolish to the extreme. The only thing she knew about him was that he could sneak into the Academy without being caught, and by his own admission had spied on both her Father and the General. While impressive, neither painted a very glowing picture of the man.

Exchanging numbers with him should have been enough. He claimed he wanted to teach her analysis and strategy? Then he could do that virtually, in addition to sending any schematics.

That should have been it. She never expected to see him face to face after that.

So it came as a huge shock (and some very unladylike coughing) the week after that she realized halfway through a meal that the butler that had been serving them was Sherlock in disguise.

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‘Lesson one: Know the people around you’

She had called him the moment her door closed.

“Is something wrong Weiss?”

“What in Remnant were you doing!” She demanded angrily, “do you realize what would happen if anybody realized you were impersonating a member of the staff?” She paused for a moment, “how were you even able to impersonate a member of the staff in the first place?!”

“Hmmm, an excellent question. Let me posit one of my own - How long was I able to impersonate a member of your staff?”

The answer had been three days.

Three. Days.

Sure, he had been disguised, but not heavily so. Even if she hadn’t known him for long, she should have noticed.

It turned out that the original butler had had a family emergency, causing him to recommend a temporary replacement. The replacement had been approved, and told to arrive later that day to assume his duties.

The replacement never got the message.

What followed was the most bizarre game of hide and seek she had heard of. Sherlock would disguise himself, and the goal was to spot him before he could take a picture with both of them in the frame.

Everybody became a suspect in her eyes, from the servants to soldiers to random beggars.

(Not that she would ever admit it, but it had been by random luck she had noticed the beggar ‘Pepe the Skunk Faunus’, and it was an eye-opener to see just what exactly Sherlock could/would do in the name of a disguise.)

“Is your goal to make me paranoid of everyone?” She demanded crossly, “because that is what is happening.”

It was a good thing they were only meeting virtually, otherwise she’d have punched him. Repeatedly. It had gotten to the point her sister had noticed her actions and questioned her.

… In her defense, that soldier had been new, and even if it hadn’t been Sherlock he was still being unprofessional. Not her fault.

“I told you I would teach you how to observe.” He reminded her, “You might be looking for me in other people, but at the same time you are learning of them, no? Their mannerisms, their actions. In order to understand the things you see, you have to learn the intention behind it, if only to cross them off the list. It may feel overwhelming now, but as you practice it will soon become elementary.”

It never became ‘elementary’. But, after months of doing this, she did notice that it was becoming easier.

She learned, and to her vindictive pleasure she was getting better… Yet those consolations did little for her pride when she considered how much he was beating her.

It wasn’t teaching like people usually taught, but it was a lesson nonetheless, and certainly not the only thing he taught.

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‘Lesson 2: Tell me about them’

“… What exactly are you showing me?”

“What you are looking through is a micro-camera and receiver. I can wear it, it being nearly unnoticeable. It is then streamed through my Scroll to you. It’s used in stealth missions I’m told.”

“… that sounds expensive. Like something the military would have.”

“I would certainly hope so, that’s what the person told me it was.”

“… And why exactly do you have military hardware?”

“Well, that is an interesting story that ends with me winning it in a poker game. Nearly lost in the end, but I managed to squeeze by with a straight flush.”

“You what?!”

“Enough of the past - I have a new challenge for you!”

Questionable origins aside, she didn’t expect to enjoy the new ‘challenge’ as much as she did. Not when she realized the perks that came with it.

She might not like it when people brought it up, but she would admit, reluctantly and to herself, that she was sheltered.

Had her father had his way, she and her siblings would be homeschooled, their only contact with the outside world pre-approved by him. It was only with much pushing and compromise that she was able to attend the Academy in order to become a Huntress. And he still often made his displeasure from that known.

The Schnee manor, the Academy, and the military base where her sister now lived. Her life pretty much revolved around those locations. She didn’t have any friends outside of those her father approved of, and those only saw her as a meal ticket.

Yet another reason she wanted to go to Vale. She needed to get away from all of this smothering!

But now, through Sherlock, she could live vicariously as he walked down a regular street to view a street performer, through a regular market, through the slums… Ok, it wasn’t some glamorous adventure that she might have thought when she was a little girl, but it was still a unique experience.

As he went to these places, whether it was a public park or a bar, he would ‘people watch’. And that’s where his next ‘lesson’ came into play.

He would pick a person, or ask her to choose, and he would ‘dissect’ them, for lack of a better word. Everything he could glean from their personality, their history, their habits… and he would explain each conclusion.

It was… Almost scary seeing him do it. At a glance, he was able to draw the most obscure conclusion from random observations. He explained how a beggar was actually a thief staking out a store, or how a certain person was cheating on their spouse. He could craft a biography of a person in seconds.

She doubted him the first several times he pointed these things out, so he’d go out of his way to prove it.

He had yet to be wrong.

After a time, he turned it over to her. He would point out somebody and ask her to tell him about them, and she would attempt to analyze them the same way he did.

(Attempt being the operative word. Sherlock must have a Semblance that allowed him to do what he did, it was the only thing that made sense.)

She was getting better, but she couldn’t do the crazy stuff that he could, like identify where a person came from based on the stitching of their clothes. Or what their favorite drink was based off of their hat.

However, with practice she was able to tell whether a person had combat experience based off of their eyes and how they walked. She was getting better at guessing what type of weapon they used.

She still lost at their game more often than not, but she couldn’t help but feel a sense of thrill each time she got an analysis right, or when Sherlock congratulated her.

It was somewhere around that time she realized she was getting attached to the man.

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‘Lesson 3: one of these things is not like the other’

“Something has come up tonight that I’d like your input on. I won’t be able to talk to you during it, but you will be able to talk to me.”

“That sounds odd… What will you be doing?”

“Well…”

‘People watching’ had continued for a couple months, and Weiss was rather proud of her progress. It wasn’t anywhere near what Sherlock could do, but considering there was a chance of him using a Semblance that he wasn’t telling her about, she was happy with it. Besides that, she was finally able to view the world without the veil of propaganda. It wasn’t the same as seeing it for herself, but it was so much more than what she had before.

It wasn’t every day of course - She still had all of her usual duties and training she had to go through. But most days, when she was able, she’d often find herself going to her room and calling Sherlock, and he would do something. Visit Mantle perhaps, or view a street theatre. Simple things, yet outside of her ability to do on her own. And she’d watch as Sherlock would commentate, occasionally answering as he’d pick people for her to analyze, and he’d correct her.

Then came the day where he offered a different sort of challenge.

“How on Remnant did you get chosen to join a heist?!”

She thinks she could be forgiven for losing her composure at learning that her… was he a friend? He could probably be considered as such by now… That her sort-of-friend was being singled out and considered for criminal activities. Even more, that he was allowing it.

“Well, clearly it’s not ‘me’ that they chose.” He stated as if it were obvious. Which, it wasn’t. At all. “They needed another member, so it was easy enough for me to disguise myself as an appropriate choice. Picklocking is a rather useful skill, even in this more advanced world we live in…”

“And the reason you haven’t told the police about this?” She demanded, ignoring the question of how he showed himself as an appropriate ‘choice’.

“Oh, no need. They already know about it. They also have a man on the inside.”

“You… you dolt! Why would you join if the police are already there?!”

“I thought it a good way to test you of course. Can you figure out which member belongs to the police before they are all arrested? I estimate you have three meetings before the heist, at which point the police will come in and arrest everybody. Until then, I’ll stay, and you can watch and figure out who the mole is.”

There were six members, not including Sherlock. Their target was a casino, but Weiss had a hard time focusing on that aspect.

That was the first time that one of their ‘challenges’ had a potential consequence. Sure, it was unlikely that Sherlock would be caught… But what if he was wrong and the police came early? Never mind the fact that he had yet to be wrong in the months that she’d known him, there was a first time for everything!

It wasn’t like she was worried about his safety… If the idiot got into trouble because of this, then it was his own fault! But if he were caught, they’d no doubt find his Scroll, which at the very least would show that she and him had lengthy conversations. How could that go anyway but poorly?

… that being said, she would feel… Bad. If something were to happen to him.

So she did her best. She went over everything that Sherlock had given her on the various members, even studied their plans herself to see if that would give any indication as to who the mole was.

The whole thing had her so stressed that her Father had begun commenting on it, suggesting that her graduation and subsequent decision to go to Beacon was bad for her mental health.

(It really wasn’t. Befriending Sherlock and his subsequent antics had led to far more stressful and harrowing events than any of her decisions had ever been.)

It took her till the third and final meeting before she finally decided. The Hacker of the group, a fox Faunus. It was… A difficult decision. Nobody in the group trusted each other and were hardly forthcoming with any personal details. Had Sherlock not told her that there was a mole in the group she wouldn’t have known to guess.

What sold it for her in the end was the questions he asked, and even then she hadn’t been certain. That feeling that she got when Sherlock left the building and congratulated her? The relief and pride at having gotten it correct?

It was worth more than any congratulations any teacher had ever given her.

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‘Lesson 4: From Theory to Practice

The months after her original correspondence with Sherlock had, overall, been rather benign.

True, he snuck into the Schnee manor far too often for comfort, his acquisition of certain materials was probably a cause of concern, and he was far too comfortable with skirting the law… But he never actually hurt anybody.

While she originally began this as a simple transaction between herself and Sherlock, after several months it had turned into an actual friendship. As more time went on she found she didn’t care so much about the original terms of the deal.

He never asked for anything in return… Not really. He’d comment on various news and ask her opinion, but that was about the extent of it.  Certainly nothing worthwhile in her opinion. And on his side?

“… I can teach you how to observe things like I do. How to observe the enemy, figure out why he does what he does, and from that, create a battle plan.”

She had been more focused on him providing schematics of the Arma Gigas. To be perfectly honest, she hadn’t been all that tempted at the offer for analysis.

It was the nature of a fighter of any kind to analyze and predict their opponent. What could he offer that she didn’t already do?

It had been a couple weeks before Sherlock said her Father would offer her his challenge, and she realized the difference in their skills.

“Good evening Weiss.”

“Sherlock. Is there a reason you asked me to be on this time of night, or do you enjoy not getting any sleep?”

“You’ve done well with your analysis and observation, and I decided it’s time to take the next step.”

“Is the next step for me to guess what your cryptic sayings mean?”

“*chuckle*, not quite. That alley over has three men hidden in the shadows. Do you see them?”

“Yes?”

“Good. They’re going to try to mug me in a little bit. Now, here is what is going to happen…”

What followed was a complete breakdown of the fight that was to occur between Sherlock and the would-be-muggers. Every move they made, followed by what he would do, and then how they would respond, concluding with a list of the wounds they would incur and how long they would be incapacitated for.

And then he proceeded to actually fight them.

He dismantled them.

It was one thing to describe it beforehand, but for him to be able to anticipate everything to that extent?

She had seen one-sided fights before. Her own sister, Winter, was a powerhouse with her skill in her weapon and her Semblance. She had even seen an exhibition fight with General Ironwood. This was different. Sherlock didn’t use overwhelming force. The strength he used didn’t even surpass that of a well trained citizen that hadn’t had their Aura unlocked.

He didn’t have a weapon. He didn’t overpower them with strength or speed. He just knew everything they would do before they did it, had the entire fight mapped out, and he executed it perfectly without receiving a single wound.

It was a slaughter.

And she wanted to learn it.

“Robots are easier to predict than humans, especially when we have access to their schematics, so we’ll start there.”

She had been eager to learn.

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Present time

Weiss took a deep breath as she walked on stage, feeling a mixture of pride and excitement.

The fight with the Arma Gigas had been underwhelming after Sherlock had gone over its various weak points. The fight might not have gone exactly how she planned, but victory was hers in the end.

Seeing her Father’s face after destroying it had been extremely gratifying.

Now she was at a charity event that her Father had scheduled for her. It was to have been a power play on his part - had she lost, this would have been the nail in the coffin that signified that she was to do what he wanted her to do.

Now, it was to be her farewell, and she relished in that.

Everything was set now. In just a couple months she would be on her way to Beacon for the next chapter of her life.

As she made her way to the center stage, the voice of the announcer a distant noise, she had to resist suddenly bursting out into laughter.

She should have known he would find a way to be here as well…

She did her best to ignore a disguised Sherlock as he sat amongst the orchestra with a violin, giving her a smirk.

‘That’s one point to me.’ She thought with a mental smirk, tinged with fondness. It was… Nice. Knowing that she had at least one friend here for her. And she made a note to thank him later that evening.

She was sure she could have defeated the Arma Gigas on her own, even without all of his help. She was far more grateful for the company he provided. For being a friend.

Not that she would ever admit it to the dolt.

She gave a small nod in his direction and began the song that would mark the beginning of her new chapter.

“Mirror… Tell me something…”