A/N: Another chapter ahoy. Time to introduce more characters and further weave the tapestry that this will take place on. Thanks to those who followed/faved this story. I hope to impress, or at the very least, make for an enjoyable experience.
As before, this is AU, so be forewarned that people will be different, though as close as I can make them given the circumstances.
RWBY is owned by Mounty Oum and Rooster Teeth. And a good thing too, since I sure as hell couldn't do it.
"Agh! That...that...that...He's taunting me!"
A half used cigar in hand, Weiss spun about, stalking over to the befuddled Jaune, who backed away from hands raised protectively against the angry detective. Fortunately for him, Officer Cardin stepped in, intercepting her and placing a hand on her shoulder.
"He probably does it cause he knows you'll react that way," Cardin replied, trying to hold back a smirk. Which was probably a good idea for him as Weiss swatted his hand away, a freezing glare turned against him.
"Don't touch me," she growled, before stalking off to see how the other evidence teams were doing, leaving her interview with the bank teller behind. And woe to any who got in her way.
Jaune breathed a sigh of relief, joining Cardin as they watched the seeming vision of anger incarnate move away from them. "Man, she really doesn't like this Torchwick guy, does she," he commented, scratching at his head. "What did he ever do to her?"
Cardin nodded, arms folded as he watched the backside of the detectives police uniform – custom tailored to be in white instead of regulation colors – depart. He leaned over, voice dropping somewhat. "Torchwick's her first real assignment on the force that's actually important. Word has it that her pop didn't want her joining the force, and other rumors have it that her connections as the daughter of the owner of the Schnee Dust Company are what got her this position in the department. So she's got quite a lot of expectation riding in her shoulders."
He paused, breaking into a bit of a grin. "Still, you gotta give it to the guy. For being a criminal, he's got style." He glanced over at Jaune. "You're new to this, but you get used to it. When 'The Princess' goes off, you don't want to be in the way."
His explanation was cut short as an angry voice rang out in the lobby once again. "Officer Cardin, Jaune. I hope whatever you're doing is related to finding Roman Torchwick and throwing him in the strongest cell in Vale. Otherwise you're wasting your time and mine, and I won't have that."
Cardin snapped to attention, in a much smoother manner than Jaune. "Yes Ma'am," he replied with the barest hint of sarcasm, though serious enough to satisfy Weiss. He elbowed Jaune once her back was turned. "Come on Jauney-boy, She does our performance reviews and I want to get paid this week."
As they got to work Weiss gave them a hard stare before turning away, shoes clicking on marble while her hand drifted to the comforting presence of Myrtenaster on her hip. More than just a weapon, though it certainly was that, it was one of the few constants in her life. Sharp, deadly, yet also elegant in use, it was a symbol of what she wanted to be. The blade complimented her, long white hair, pale skin, the kind of beauty that would turn eyes, but a personality that would leave you nursing wounded pride at the end of the attempt
Perhaps it was a childish dream that had brought her here, her mind flashing back to a memory of a younger self that eagerly proclaimed that she would catch all the bad guys to her father after hearing of a robbery made against their company, something which was responded to with a snort of amused derision and the statement that such things were better left to the proper authorities, and not the attention of a lady such as herself.
Despite the best efforts of her parents, with some varying degrees of success, she had enrolled in the police academy when she was able to, establishing herself as a talented officer and working hard to eliminate the doubts and hardship she was given as a result of her background. And now she was here, her first real assignment, leading the hunt for Roman Torchwick. And she would be damned if she was defeated by some lowlife thug.
She headed out into the parking lot, where spotty security camera footage had seen some kind of altercation take place, though sadly the video wasn't the highest quality. But it had shown someone get pulled from the main getaway van, a confrontation, and then to her surprise, the two facing off (One of whom had to be Torchwick) getting in the van together.
They had gone over the tape a lot, trying to pick out faces, but the video was just too low quality. No one could figure out what it meant either, though some theories were proposed. In the parking lot now, Weiss looked about the scene, at investigators going over marks on the ground, little numbered place markers put down, and she could already tell there was nothing useful here
Back to the vault then, where technicians were looking over the heist. "Have you found anything yet," she asked, impatience in her tone. They needed a break, a lead, something that could clue them in on Torchwick and close the net on him that much more. As it stood, he had his way across the entire city, and that would not stand.
But her expectations were less than fulfilled. "Not yet Detective," came the response. She growled under her breath, as if sheer force of will could magic evidence into existence. After several robberies and failed attempts to get anything of use, it was small wonder that her temper was flaring up. She would be having a long, hard talk with a punching bag once she was done with paperwork.
And as if her day couldn't get any better, a call came in over her earpiece. Already guessing who it was, she stepped away from everyone else before. "Hello Father," she said, voice falling into cold formality.
The tone was much the same on the other side of the line. "Hello Weiss."
She skipped the formalities and went straight into the purpose for this call. "Was there a reason you called? I thought I had made it clear that you should not contact me while I was at work."
He ignored that though, proceeding in control of the conversation. "I heard that Torchwick character you are looking for has robbed another bank. I trust you are doing your utmost to bring him to swift justice."
"Yes father," she replied, a tint of exasperation that she tried to keep out of her voice whenever she talked to her father. She had resigned herself to all these conversations being him talking and her listening, until she was able to cut him off and end it, so she could go on to better uses for her time.
"I don't suppose I need to tell you that the family's honor is riding on your success. Do not make me regret my decision to allow you to enter law enforcement."
Weiss sighed, arms folded and glancing up at the bland peach colored ceiling. "Yes father. Now if you will excuse me, I need to return to work."
She took the only satisfaction she could in this situation, ending the call before her father could, and it was a hollow feeling at best. Holding back the urge to punch the wall, she spun about on her heels and returned to the bank vault, radiating frustration and aware that most, if not everyone, there could guess what that call had been about, but frankly she didn't care at this point. Let them think what they wanted. When she caught Torchwick they would be forced to recognize her as a deserved equal.
Fortunately, there was a glimmer of light in the mess that was this day. "Detective, I think I have something."
Weiss rapidly moved over to join the technician, crouching to look at a small clump of red particles caught near the door. "Dust," she said matter of factly.
The man nodded. "Yes. But not just any Dust. This is high quality. High purity. Not even Torchwick is stupid enough to risk blowing himself up during a heist with low quality Dust. But judging by this sample, it could only have come from a few places.
"I see," Weiss replied. She could already guess where most of those places where, seeing as her fathers company was the premier Dust manufacturer on the market. It just depended on whether it had been bought or stolen. At the very least it was a lead to go on.
"Alright then. Keep looking for any other pieces of evidence we can use. I'll go follow up on the Dust connection. I am probably the most qualified for it," she said as she rose back to her feet, looking around at everyone else there and making sure they heard her. Perhaps it was presumptuous, but from her perspective it was also a matter of fact. If there was one other person in the room who knew more about Dust than her, she would be surprised.
Head high, she left them to their work, confident that they would do it to the best of their abilities. Admittedly, she became less certain of that as this investigation went on, but for now she was willing to place her trust in them. She had no other choice.
Back through the lobby she walked, and she gestured at Cardin and Jaune with a wave of her hand. "Come on. I'm following a lead, and whatever plans you may have had can wait. Catching Torchwick is more important.'
"Aw man," Jaune grumbled, falling in after her reluctantly, not looking forward to having to spend more time with the cranky (in his opinion) detective.
Cardin wasn't too thrilled either, but he did a better job at hiding it, patting Jaune on the shoulder as they followed Weiss out to the patrol cars parked outside. "Hey, don't sweat it buddy. At least we get overtime for this. I'll buy you a drink later."
"A-alright," Jaune replied, getting in the squad car with his partner, and the two of them following Weiss as she pulled out and drove towards the first stop she had in mind, with some obvious restraint towards speed limits. She had even the barest thread of a lead now, and she was determined to not let it slip away. Roman Torchwick's days were numbered.