Chapter Text
Here was the thing about sunrises: they were rarely a good indication of whether the coming day would be a good one or not. Regardless, the one that morning was particularly beautiful. Sadly, as with most sunrises, there weren’t many who were up to witness it.
One who did however, was the young huntress assigned as lookout to the Schnee Baking Company factory. Her name was Ruby Rose, and she was currently sitting on the railing of her lookout tower, wrapped in several layers of thick wool and blankets. Her legs were kicking slightly as she sipped from her mug of mocha and exhaled clouds of steam. The air was still filled with leftover chilliness from the day before, but the sun was already bright. Ruby could practically feel the warmth of its rays on her face.
Just at that moment, Ruby was dragged back to reality as the walkie-talkie at her side crackled to life. Then there was her boss’ voice, muted by static:
“ Lookout? Lookout, do you copy ?”
Ruby shifted her mug to her other hand, and extracted her arm from the blankets to answer:
“Mister Schnee, sir? This is Lookout, I copy.”
She internally debated for a few seconds, before adding: “Good morning.”
She’d worked as the bakery’s lookout for, what now, about a year? And still she struggled with saying the right thing, with sounding official and polite enough. Luckily for her, she was the best in her class, and anyone older had to work to protect the island’s borders from potential invaders: in other words, the bakery needed her, and so she technically could not be fired... That didn’t mean she allowed herself to take the chance though.
“ Yes, good morning. Once you are ready, could you please come meet me in my office? Something has come up on which you should be briefed .”
Ruby clutched at her walkie-talkie, trying to figure out what could be meant by this. When nothing that wasn’t completely paranoid came to her, she answered:
“Uhm, sure, okay? I’ll set up Penny and I’ll be right there.”
There was silence on the other end, which either meant that he agreed, or that he hadn’t heard her. She wasn’t the best at communication, but neither was he, so it was fine.
Ruby swung her legs back on the floor side of the railing and slid off, picking up the blankets surrounding her along with her now-drained mug of coffee and the walkie-talkie.
The inside of the watchtower was basically a one-room apartment minus the bathroom. In one corner was the hammock she slept in, and in the other was a small work table paired with a loaded bookshelf. One side of the room was dedicated to a kitchenette, and large windows spanned every wall. The middle of the room was empty save for a single computer, itself attached to an antenna so long it went past the ceiling. At the end, Ruby knew, was an articulated camera enhanced with heat sensor and movement detection.
Once Ruby was done changing out of her pyjamas and into her everyday clothes, she walked over to the computer and brought it to life with the press of a button. The darkness of the screen was chased away with the sound of a musical jingle, before a voice spoke from the device’s speakers:
“Salutations!”
This of course, was the standard greeting for this particular brand of AI. However, its voice was definitely not standard. After playing around with the vocal software while bored, Ruby had managed to make the computer sound that much more enthusiastic about everything it said… And then of course, Ruby had to give them a proper nickname.
“Hey, Penny! Sorry for booting you back up just after I put you in sleep mode… But Mister Schnee wanted to talk to me, so do you think you’ll be okay for a few more minutes?”
“Your concern is much appreciated, but I will be fine! I have energy left for at least thirty more minutes!”
“Alright, well I’ll have my Scroll with me, just in case, okay? Don’t hesitate!”
“Will do, friend!”
So maybe Ruby had asked them to call her “friend”. It wasn’t weird. Having them call her by her name would be weird.
Regardless, she stepped back outside onto her balcony, opened the safety gate, and started descending the ladder until she reached the roof of the factory.
Indeed, Ruby’s watchtower was built on top of the factory building, so as to grant her the best overall view of the surrounding area. In case of an emergency requiring her to reach the ground floor quickly, steel cables Ruby could zipline connected the tower to the ground at a decent angle.
To Ruby, that was the main perk of her job. True, it consisted of a lot of doing nothing, but once in awhile it was her responsibility to clash in epic battle with monsters of Grimm. Overall, the biggest downside was the almost-constant aloneness, made even worse by the thought that just a few dozen meters below her hundreds of people were milling about their daily lives.
As any major rooftops, this one could be accessed by a stairwell. Of course, Ruby usually used said stairwell the other way (mostly to use the private washroom provided to her), but then again she was by far a minority.
The walk to Mister Schnee’s office was uneventful, albeit punctuated by Ruby checking her Scroll every few minutes. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Penny, it was just that the latter’s assessments of battery-life tended to not be completely accurate. Again, it wasn’t mistrust: Ruby literally trusted Penny with her life every single night. Even lookouts had to sleep, after all. Just as even the most high-tech security AIs needed electrical power, which Penny could never get fully. It wasn’t that the factory was too cheap to afford enough electricity, it was just that the factory spent most of its electricity on what it was built for: baking. And so, on workdays, Penny had to spend the day charging through her solar panels while Ruby served as lookout. On weekends, everyone went home and Penny had full access to the electric lines, capable of powering a small army of guard bots in extreme emergency.
Regardless, the moment Ruby knocked on her boss’ door, his voice resonated from within:
“Come in.”
Ruby did.
Mister Schnee’s office was the most organized room she’d ever seen. Everything had a proper place, and every place had a proper thing, right down to the man on his chair. The entire back wall of the office was a floor-to-ceiling window giving view to the complicated catwalks, conveyor belts, mechanical arms, robots, ovens, and humans necessary to the process of mass bread and pastry making. From this distance, the whole thing kinda looked like the largest and most efficient ant colony ever.
Mister Schnee designated the empty chair in front of his desk:
“Please sit down.”
Ruby did.
The room was silent, except for the ticking clock on the wall, the occasional rustle of paper, and the ever-present hum of the factory beneath them.
“Uhm, mister Schnee, sir? A-am I in trouble?” Nervousness led Ruby’s voice to crack slightly around the words.
As if he’d just remembered she was there, Mister Schnee looked up, answered:
“No, no. Don’t worry Lookout, it’s nothing of the sort.”
Ruby breathed a sigh of relief. But before she could ask what this was actually about then, he spoke again:
“The Atlesian factory was bombed.”
The news hit like a slap in the face.
“Wait, what? Seriously? Is everyone okay?!?
“Yes, thankfully. The stationed Lookout had noticed enemy airships incoming, and warned everyone to evacuate just in time. However, several pieces of equipment were severely damaged, and I must travel to the scene and… Assess the damage. Possibly survey the replacing process.”
“...Right, yeah.” The Patch factory may be the biggest and most productive of the Schnee Baking Company factories, and therefore required the most attention from the CEO, but the corporate headquarters were technically in Atlas. Ruby was pretty sure Mister Schnee attended 75% of his business meetings through video conference.
Presently, Mister Schnee had fallen silent. He seemed to be staring into the circuits of his computer, and then:
“And so, my daughter will be there to overlook the factory in my absence.”
“Oh, Ms Winter?”
Winter had looked over the factory before. Despite giving off a strong aura of militaristic authority, she was also surprisingly caring, and had made it a point of having saying greeting everyone at least once every day.
“No, not Winter,” He said, sounding mildly disappointed himself: “She’s been enormously busy, ever since she’s been promoted , and can no longer afford the time to be here.” Mr Schnee used the word “promoted” like it burned his tongue. From the tiny bit Ruby had managed to glimpse of the Schnee family lifestyle, Winter joining the military had been met with great frustration from her father, whom had likely expected her to work in the family business and eventually take his place as CEO.
“...Then, who will it be? Uh, sir?
“My youngest. Weiss.”
Silence.
“Oh. ...I didn’t know you had a second daughter.”
Mr Schnee waved his hand:
“I didn’t expect you to. She’s just a bit older than you, and still hasn’t finished school, so it’s not like she has any real reputation in the world… Or at least, not yet.”
He turned back to his computer, and the air turned awkward once more. Again, Ruby wondered what exactly was on that monitor to make her usually composed boss seem so nervous.
He sighed once more, and continued talking:
“Listen. Winter contacted me this morning, and heavily insisted I tell you that she believes Weiss to be… Lonely. That she needs more friends, or something along those lines.”
Ruby tilted her head to the side in thought. The tone used by Mr Schnee made it obvious that these weren’t his words, and that he didn’t believe them himself. Chances were he was reading them directly from an e-mail from Winter, thus explaining why his eyes kept shifting towards his computer. Also, it was highly probable he was only telling Ruby in the hopes of getting on Winter’s good side again. Winter herself, though, would never make light of something like this, which meant it was probably true.
Nevertheless, Ruby’s mind was already made. Mr Schnee was still going on about how ridiculous of a notion it was for Weiss to have friends, that she was already busy enough with her studies, when Ruby interrupted with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm:
“Oh, of course Mr Schnee! Don’t you worry, I’ll be the very best friend Weiss could ever hope to have!!!”
Mr Schnee cleared his throat:
“I’ll let Winter know, then.”
Ruby nodded happily, before remembering the true matter at hand.
“Pardon me sir, but when will Weiss arrive, exactly?”
“This afternoon.”
“Oh.” That was surprisingly soon. “Then when will you be leaving?”
“Now.”