Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Apparently the onboarding process to become a Fatui Harbinger requires a lot more paperwork than one would expect.

"It keeps things organized," you say, as if reading the freshly-minted Childe's mind.

"I mean, sure, but..." Childe thumbs through the manila folder before him - one of four, each roughly twenty pages thick. They'd been waiting on the desk for him the second he'd walked inside, along with your blank, unnerving stare. "Aren't we free to do whatever we want, as long we follow through with the Tsaritsa's plans?"

"Perhaps, but you are still responsible for a number of soldiers who lack the privelege. This paperwork is more for their sake than yours." You retrieve a pen from your breast pocket and set it before him, pointing at the first dotted line at the bottom with a rubber-capped finger. "Start here, and please do not date it."

With a heavy sigh, Childe begins to write. He doesn't bother reading over the fine print, and you return to organizing your...office, he thinks. Filing cabinets flank the single desk he's working at. Tugging one drawer open reveals row after row of meticulously colored tabs, fingers flitting between each before plucking out whichever file you were looking for.

He's seen you around before, always plucking random Fatui during their drills to get them to sign something on a clipboard before flitting away. You were clearly some kind of administrator, and to be in charge of the paperwork for the Harbingers must meant you had some sway. Rumor has it you're one of the Marionette's creations - efficient and emotionless. That, or you were just some random desk worker that the Jester decided to punish by sticking you in this windowless hell.

"So," Childe starts as he thumbs through a form agreeing to not make his subordinates work on Snezhnayan-recognized holidays, "do all Harbingers have to go through...uh-"

"An onboarding process?" you offer. "Yes."

"Really?" Childe's nose wrinkles when he recalls the rest of his colleagues. "That couldn't have been easy."

"No, it was not." You flip through your own folder, pausing halfway before continuing. "The Marionette automated her process by creating a stamping machine, but only made one stamp with her name. The Doctor opted to use his segments before leaving."

Childe snorts. "What about the old man?"

And maybe you really are just a regular human, because you actually smile when you say, "Which one?"

It's nothing more than a little curl of one corner, but it feels like a victory all the same. Childe laughs and waves a hand. "I mean Pulcinella."

"He claimed he had trouble reading the paperwork and requested that I provided the forms in larger print." Your smirk only grows, but you turn your back to him to look through another drawer. "Fortunately, I already had copies for those with vision impairments, and so he completed it within the day."

"Huh, no wonder he doesn't like you." Childe's brows jump when you pause in your sorting. "I mean, he's always complaining about extra paperwork when I go visit him."

You hum and pull out another file. "In truth, the only ones who did not complain were the Captain and the Knave."

Childe cocks his head. The Captain, he understands - he's respectful, militant. He probably actually read all the fine print here and follows it to the letter. But the Knave? "I'm surprised," he says. "I heard from Pulcinella that she's a nightmare."

After a brief skim, you tuck the folder back in the drawer and return to your seat opposite of him. He watches your fingers retrieve yet another pen from your breast pocket; there aren't any noticable seams or joints like that of the Marionette's machines. He doubts her androids are capable of twirling a pen as smoothly as you do, either. "And yet, she completed her paperwork within the half-hour."

"Hey, I'm just trying to be friendly," Childe says. "If you're in charge of all the paperwork for the Harbingers, I imagine we'll be in touch more often."

"Unless you die, which would be quite impressive." You tap your pen against the desk, the briefest flicker of amusement in your eye. "That would be a new turnover record."

Childe laughs as he hunches over, signing off on a paper about confidentiality. "Woah, woah, don't count me out just yet!"

He hears a soft huff, just barely loud enough to draw his attention. When he looks up, you're busy scribbling away on your own papers, but that little smile on your face remains.

Chapter Text

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #018]

[Subject: Automated Facsimilie System #018]

Greetings,

I hope this letter finds you well. I imagine the travel through Nod Krai's waters can be quite rough during this time of the year.

Before you is an automated facsimilie system (AFS) which will print letters and announcements sent from the Zapolyarny Palace. When you receive this letter, please sign the attestation below and place the letter in its mouth, and the AFS in my office will automatically print a copy. No further action is required.

Attached to this letter is an operating system manual. Please read over this manual when you have the time.

If you have any further questions, please send a letter. I will get back to you when possible.

May Her Benevolence bless you,

•  XX

[From: AFS #018]

[To: AFS #000]

[Subject: Re: Automated Facsimilie System #000]

Good afternoon,

Attestation has been signed and copied.

May Her Benevolence bless you,

- The Knave.A

[From: AFS #018]

[To: AFS #000]

[Subject: (Blank)]

[A scan of smudged fingerprints fills the page.]

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #018]

[Subject: RE: (Blank)]

Hello.

Please do not stick your fingers into the AFS' mouth.

[From: AFS #018]

[To: AFS #000]

[Subject: Re: (Blank)]

Hello,

My apologies. It appears one of my children entered my office without my permission. I will see to it that they are punished.

Best regards,

- The Knave.A

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #018]

[Subject: Re: (Blank)]

Good evening,

All is well, Knave. I suggest that you keep the AFS on your person at all times, even at your base of operations. If not, the AFS does have a setting in which it will only deliver messages after you have entered a set password. This is to ensure that information is not accidentally printed while you are away.

In the meantime, please hand the following statement to whomever it may concern:

The AFS enjoys the taste of human flesh. By placing your fingers in its mouth, it has now become familiar with your fingerprints and will not rest until it has eaten all the digits you had offered it.

However, Her Benevolence, the Tsaritsa respects the Knave's request to prevent it from doing so. If you misbehave again, the AFS will come alive and eat your fingertips.

Be glad the Knave has advocated for your safety. Do not do this again.

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #018]

[Subject: Authorization Request 159718 - Rejected]

Good day,

Unfortunately, I am unable to complete Authorization 159718, as this would violate Form 21-E.

Please understand that all authorization and payment requests must fall within the organization's pervue. We will not cover purchases for 'family gifts', ‘souvenirs’, ‘shipping costs for fragile items’, or 'celebratory drinks.' Nor are we authorized to pay for 'holiday parties' or the resulting hang-over medication that I know you will request.

If you have any concerns, please contact Lord Harbinger Pantalone through AFS 013.

• XX

[From: AFS #018]

[To: AFS #000]

[Subject: Re: Authorization Request 159718 - Rejected]

To whom it may concern,

I believe you have sent this to the wrong AFS.

Best regards,

- The Knave.A

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #018]

[Subject: RE: Authorization Request 159718 - Rejected]

Ah, my apologies. That was meant for Childe.

I believe he is passing through Fontaine to head for Liyue. If possible, please tell him that I will no longer accept any authorization draft requests from him or any soldiers in his company until he has completed his mission.

If he refuses to listen, you have my permission to confiscate AFS #019.

Thank you.

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #018]

[Subject: Personal Favor]

Good evening,

I apologize for the late message. When possible, can you please send a box of Rainbow Roses to my office? 

My thanks,

• XX

[From: AFS #018]

[To: AFS #000]

[Subject: Re: Personal Favor]

What are they for? Is there a particular condition they must be in?

Best,

- A

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #018]

[Subject: RE: Personal Favor]

Ah, I see we are both up, then.

I plan on placing the flowers in the Doctor’s lab. 

[From: AFS #018]

[To: AFS #000]

[Subject: Re: Personal Favor]

What for?

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #018]

[Subject: RE: Personal Favor]

It will ruin his current experiment. He is attempting to cultivate special plants using his AFS as the soil, and I am upset. 

[From: AFS #018]

[To: AFS #000]

[Subject: Re: Personal Favor]

I see. It will take two to three weeks for them to arrive. Seeds may arrive faster and are less conspicuous, if you’d prefer. 

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #018]

[Subject: RE: Personal Favor]

Whichever is more convenient for you. 

[From: AFS #018]

[To: AFS #000]

[Subject: Re: Personal Favor]

Understood. 

[From: AFS #018]

[To: AFS #000]

[Subject: Draft Authorization]

Good afternoon,

Please draft an authorization for the following materials:

• On the Ores of Dragonspine

• The Little Witch and the Undying Fire

• Alchemy and the Forbidden Truths of Science

• Transitional Youth Counseling & Treatment

• The Family Crucible

• Flowers for Princess Fischl

• Rex Incognito

• The Talk: Exploring Independence, Identity and Sexuality as a Teen

- A

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #018]

[Subject: Re: Draft Authorization]

Authorization 205276 has been created. 

I must say, what an odd assortment of genres. Are the children requesting these?

[From: AFS #018]

[To: AFS #000]

[Subject: Re: Draft Authorization]

Yes.

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #018]

[Subject: Re: Draft Authorization]

Even the biology one?

[From: AFS #018]

[To: AFS #000]

[Subject: Re: Draft Authorization]

Is it not included in the payment?

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #018]

[Subject: Re: Draft Authorization]

No, it is. I was only curious. I have a similar book lent to me by the Doctor, if you’d like. However, his copy might contain some fluids of questionable nature. 

[From: AFS #018]

[To: AFS #000]

[Subject: Re: Draft Authorization]

Order a new copy. 

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #018]

[Subject: Re: Draft Authorization]

Understood. It will be done.

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #018]

[Subject: Ceramics Request]

Good afternoon,

Forgive me for only asking now, but do you happen to have access to Crucabena’s collection of porcelain tea sets? Or have you already destroyed them?

[From: AFS #018]

[To: AFS #000]

[Subject: Re: Ceramics Request]

There is only one complete set. However, it has already been claimed. 

Would you prefer a new set? 

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #018]

[Subject: Re: Ceramics Request]

A new set is not necessary. I was merely curious. 

Crucabena often mocked me for my inability to consume food or drinks. I would have much enjoyed drinking a cup of tea from one of her precious porcelains. 

[From: AFS #018]

[To: AFS #000]

[Subject: Re: Ceramics Request]

I see. It has been put to use.

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #018]

[Subject: Re: Ceramics Request]

That is reassuring to hear. My most blessed of thanks. 

[From: AFS #019]

[To: AFS #000]

[Subject: Surprise!]

To whom it may concern,

My name is Lyney, and I am one of the children living under Father's tutelage at the Hotel Bouffes d'ete. I am writing to you today to request a favor.

In an attempt to foster a sense of community among my peers, I plan to surprise them with a banquet and a magic show on Founding Day. It is a holiday for all of us children here, and I wish to include Father (though I suppose she is the Knave to you) as well. After all, it would not be a family banquet without her.

My original plan was to include Father's return from her annual in-person review as part of the surprise. 

Is it at all possible to locate Father to pass on the message? I attempted to reach her through the AFS she carries, but have yet to receive a response.

My humblest thanks,

Lyney

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #019]

[Subject: Re: Surprise!]

Good morning,

The Knave is currently occupied. Is this urgent?

[From: AFS #019]

[To: AFS #000]

[Subject: Re: Surprise!]

Good afternoon,

Admittedly, no. However, I would rather begin planning now. It takes quite a bit of preparation for my shows, and this time I am unable to rely on my siblings for support, as I wish to surprise them as well.

If it is not possible, I understand and thank you for your time.

Lyney

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #019]

[Subject: Re: Surprise!]

Understood. I will see what I can do.

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #019]

[Subject: Re: Surprise!]

Good evening,

I am writing to inform you that the Knave

[The rest of the page has been completely darkened out.]

[From: AFS #019]

[To: AFS #000]

[Subject: Re: Surprise!]

Good morning,

I believe an error has occurred. I cannot view the last half of your letter.

I asked Freminet to examine the AFS, but he reported that he is not familiar with the inner mechanisms, and the manual has gone missing.

Please advise,

Lyney

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #019]

[Subject: Re: Surprise!]

Apologies. I was writing the letter in front of the Knave during an experiment. An explosion occurred while the AFS was processing the letter and proceeded to copy the flames as well.

[From: AFS #019]

[To: AFS #000]

[Subject: Re: Surprise!]

I...see. Are you and Father alright?

- Lyney

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #019]

[Subject: Re: Surprise!]

Your father and I are well.

Though she will deny it, I will add that she seemed satisfied that you asked.

Anyhow, she has agreed to help you with your plan. I am repairing AFS #018 and will provide her with a spare for now.

Please forward your messages to AFS 022. In the meantime, I have attached another copy of the manual for Freminet to read.

The Knave has stated that you will be responsible for all expenses. She says it will be part of your training to learn how to manage finances.

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #019]

[Subject: Re: Surprise!]

To all field operatives: I have attached here a list of commissions and bounties within the Fontaine region.

As always, they are first come, first paid. Please attach proof of completion while submitting to Katheryne.

Reminder: IF YOU DO NOT ATTACH YOUR BADGE NUMBER DURING SUBMISSIONS, YOU WILL NOT BE PAID. 

May Her Benevolence bless you

- XX

[From: AFS #019]

[To: AFS #000]

[Subject: Re: Surprise!]

Good afternoon,

I believe you've sent this to the wrong AFS?

Please advise,

Lyney

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #019]

[Subject: Re: CONFIDENTIAL]

Hello,

It appears I have. This is highly confidential information about financial opportunities for field operatives.

Please do not let your father know and destroy the related correspondence.

[From: AFS #019]

[To: AFS #000]

[Subject: Re: Surprise!]

Understood. My thanks.

[From: AFS #018]

[To: AFS #000]

[Subject: AFS #019]

Good afternoon,

I am reaching out to you with some concerns. It appears my children have been given certain assignments that were not signed under my name.

When investigating, one confessed that they have been using AFS #019 to communicate with you to receive county notices ahead of other field operatives.

Is it possible that there has been some system error in the past few weeks?

- A

[From: AFS #000]

[To: AFS #018]

[Subject: AFS #019]

Good morning,

That sounds concerning. However, I have no records that indicate any assignments have been sent to AFS 019 for some time. Since its confiscation, my connection to #019 has been disabled.

In the meantime, I have heard that the House of the Hearth in Fontaine celebrates your anointment as the Knave. How sweet of them. It seems they truly care for you.

I will be out of my office for the rest of the day. Enjoy yourself, Arlecchino. You deserve it.

• XX

Chapter Text

"This is ridiculous. We're genetically identical. How would this be of any use?"

You just give a half-hearted shrug, gesturing for his hands. "It is standard protocol for all new agents that join the Fatui-"

"New? I'm IL DOTTORE-"

"And you were, quite literally, born yesterday, Tau," you interrupt. "So, technically, I require a new set of fingerprints."

Dottore (Tau Build) scowls, fist tight at his side. Is this why the Omega Build ordered him to head to your office? Did he want another segment to kill you and be rid of such a ridiculous nuisance? After all, he'd heard the Omega muttering about how your 'protocols' got in the way of his research progress. If that is the case...

"Just hurry up already."

He bristles as his own voice sounds behind him. Another segment waits with an armful of papers, face taught with resignation.

"Ah, Segment Lambda," you greet. "Are those the monthly reports?"

Lambda grits his teeth as he hands the stack of papers to you. "Yes."

"And they have all been properly for-"

"Formatted, censored, signed, and NOT dated," Lambda repeats through his teeth. "Yes."

You hum and gently thumb through the forms. After a curt nod, you peel off your gloves and turn to your many cabinets, thumbing open a latch with yout eyes still glued to the folders. "Let me get you some blank forms. In the mean time, please educate your younger segment about our agreement."

Tau snorts, arms crossed as he shoots his elder an unimpressed glance. Lambda however, just pinches the bridge of his nose and mutters under his breath - something Liyuean, he thinks. He must be one of the ones who'd been trapped in Sal Terrae by another segment out of 'curiosity' for how he'd handle it.

"As per...the Omega's arrangement," Lambda forces out, "all subsequent segments are to be compliant with the demands and requests of the human resources manager."

"Which includes abiding by protocol, completing paperwork on time, and-" You rise, dumping a stack of blank forms in Lambda's waiting palms. "-submitting monthly progress reports on time."

"...One day," Lambda seethes, "I’ll bestow on you flesh and guts which will gladly spill by my hands."

You casually pat the top sheet. "Until that day comes, you have 84 reports left. Best of luck."

With that, Lambda departs, leaving Tau to stare with open surprise. He is Il Dottore, capable of building gods with his own two hands! What could you have offered his progenitor to allow him to agree to something so...humiliating?

"Ahem."

Tau's eyes snap towards your waiting palm, freshly dressed with another sterile glove. After a moment, he obligingly offers his hand. He almost expects you to tear it off, maybe crush a few metacarpals, just for wasting your time.

Instead, you just roll each digit on an ink pad, fill in the ten boxes, and add it to a folder filled with identical fingerprinted sheets.

"There." You nod, clearly satisfied as he retracts his hand. "You're free to go."

Tau stiffly looks down at his hand, then flexes his fingers. You've already gone back to your drawers. A dainty little hum escapes you as you sort through your tabs.

Perhaps he is thinking about this all wrong. Someone clearly willing to bargain with his progenitor is just as insane. And Tau might be young, but he knows better than to test that.
So he just nods and turns on his toes, leaving you to sort through your files in peace.

Chapter Text

Sandrone thinks you're just like Alain.

As in, you prefered doing something in the worst way possible and just watching you work drove her insane.

"Why would you even bother keeping these?" she hisses as you lift another hefty set of folders from its drawers. "These soldiers are already dead. Why bother keeping their records for this long? And don't-" she snaps when you open your damn mouth, "-say protocol."

You pause, wonder, then smugly say, "It is the standards established for me by Her Benevolence."

And oh, how Sandrone wished you had a self-destruct button. "That's just the definition of 'protocol'!"

You chuckle as you set aside the KIA files beginning with Last Name, A-C. Sandrone had come into the archives to retrieve some old schematics and found you in the middle of transfering hundreds of thick manila folders into a new cabinet. It would have been one thing if you were transfering it between drawers, but from what she understands, you're about the physically move all of the KIA files from this year over into a new cabinet. All three hundred of them. By hand.

They aren't even alphabetized. Your solution to that is to alphabetize them as you go.

"This pains me," Sandrone mutters, "and I haven't even turned on my receptors for that in years."

You climb a random box to reach the top-most drawer, stuffing a folder between Berg and Bezukohv. "I was created for this. It brings me satisfaction."

You reach a hand down, groping aimlessly at the rest of the A-C folders. Sandrone just rolls her eyes and hands you another. "Careful, if that puppetboy hears that, it might break his empty little heart...if he had one."

A folder thwaps the back of her head. "Hush now," you chide as Sandrone sputters. "That's impolite."

"Wh-You-"

"And, to answer your question," you continue blithely, "it is to track death gratuity for the next of kin...if they have any."

Sandrone pauses in her attempt to yank your leg out from underneath you. "We pay death gratuity?"

"At the behest of the Regrator, yes."

Sandrone hands you another file, then another. It is only when her fingers scrape the empty bottom of the box does she finally say, "...Why bother? Not like that does anything." She steps back as you hop off the box, letting the empty one go. "The person's still dead."

You just shrug and pick up another box, this time Cz-E. "I think you and I are poor participants for this particular conversation."

Sandrone scoffs and waves a hand. "Tch. Who else would be better? The Doctor? The Captain?"

You only chuckle and restart your sorting all over again. "Perhaps the Fair Lady? Or the Damselette? Or even the Knave?"

"Hilarious," Sandrone drawls as she glares at you. "The last thing I want to hear is that stupid crone whine about how weak her precious, snot-nosed children are." It was the exact opposite of what Alain wanted when he left money to donate to Fontaine's many orphanages, she thinks.

"Yes, the human body is quite weak, isn't it?" you say before sighing dramatically. "But they have functioning togues to taste tea..."

Sandrone rolls her eyes. "I can just build you a tongue."

Which only makes you grimace. "I appreciate it, but no. I prefer to remain all organic."

A scoff escapes Sandrone before she can stop herself.  "My, I didn't realize you possessed a sense of humor." 

You turn just enough to flash the girl a small, but bemused smile. "Had to cultivate it all on my own, mind you."

"Then cultivate harder," she says with a swat to your leg, "because that wasn't very funny."

"Really?" You open another drawer, wordlessly gesturing for another file. "I've been told I make for quite the conversation partner."

"By who?" Sandrone sneers as she hands you the topmost packet. "Your flowers?"

"Yes. And they find my jokes hilarious." You pause, then smile down at her with the same kind of smile that you give Pulcinella every time you have new forms for him to find. "For example...Why does a golem get along so well with everyone?" You wait, clearly waiting for her to respond. When she just glares at you, you happily say, "Because they are very down to earth."

It's the exact same kind of joke Alain would have read from a book to test her language processing unit, serious inflection and all. It's enough to make her groan and drop the box she'd been holding, storming out of the archives as you laugh. If any Fatui see her struggling not to smile, they wisely keep it to themselves.