So, in order to avoid her, he tries to go home when she's either working, or passed out in an alley because she drank too much. That way, she gets a sense of peace of mind, and Rancid isn't at risk of getting stabbed just because he happens to exist.
"Palik-" he tries again.
She cuts him off with a scream, sitting up so fast she almost topples over. She knocks over some bottles that sat too close, and one breaks against the floor, "Out!" Another glass hits the wall beside him.
Running a hand through his blonde hair, Rancid steps out and lets the door clang shut. Did her new job let her go again? Is that why she's drowning herself in bootleg? He crouches down and tucks his head between his knees.
He's not even surprised.
"Rancid!"
He lifts his head with furrowed eyebrows as Farron runs up to him, his black hair knotted and wild. He's drenched in sweat despite the cool evening air. He leans forward, his tan hands resting on his knees as he tries to catch his breath.
Like Rancid, Farron is still in his dirty work clothes.
"Was Folly not at home?" he asks, forcing his voice to stay neutral despite how much he wants to break down.
Folly and Palik are often joined at the hip, much like Farron and himself. Seeing as they left the two together earlier that day, they are both probably off causing trouble elsewhere.
"There's a team of hunters in town." Farron doesn't answer him as he pants. He swallows and straightens, his brown eyes wide and full of panic.
"Really?" Rancid tilts his head, his eyebrows raising.
He didn't know it was possible for hunters to come to Sekacity. They're a sewage plantation town, highly stinky and not pleasant to the eyes. While the northern side is relatively nicer, it still doesn't change the fact that it's still part of Sekacity.
Hunters usually avoid places like this, they prefer others, like Skycity, where the air doesn't stink of feces and bad hygiene. Though if a gate happens to open up here, then they wouldn't really have a choice.
But that's never happened before, so what could they possibly be doing here?
"Palik stole some of their rations and got caught-"
At first it doesn't make sense. Palik doesn't have much of an appetite lately, so why would he feel the need to steal a hunter's rations? Unless Folly somehow managed to convince him into it?
Rancid doesn't think Palik wouldn't miss a chance to impress the girl. His heart drops into the pit of his stomach.
"Where?" Rancid cuts him off, his voice urgent.
His heterochromic eyes are wide, his heart stuttering in his chest. Surely his younger brother isn't dumb enough to do that. He was barely eating earlier that morning, but now he suddenly has a hankering for rations?
"This way."
Rancid follows Farron, his hand in his pocket to keep his coins from making noise. A crowd is starting to gather, and the two push their way to the front, ignoring the dirty looks shot their way.
It looks bad. When Rancid and Palik make it to the front, he groans. It looks too much like an execution scene.
"Do you think you're a clever boy?!" The older man slaps Palik across the face, the force strong enough to make him stumble onto the dirt ground. He manages to catch himself on one hand, the heel of his palm scraping against the dirt and drawing blood.
"Come on, Jack." Another voice speaks up, but Rancid can't tell who it comes from.
He's too busy staring at his brother who struggles to keep himself up right. He looks worse than he did earlier that morning. Did he have lunch? Or did he skip that too?
"You can't blame him for trying, he looks like he's starving."
"Quit being soft, Maver." Jack, the man who slapped Palik, snaps at his colleague. "If we let one rat win, then they'll all think they can win." He glares at the crowd of filthy people, elderly and young alike.
"I-I'm sorry."
Rancid can hear the tremble in his brother's voice immediately. He hates the way Palik remains on his knees before a group of hunters. He doesn't move to stand up, and Rancid wonders if he can even do that.
He looks like he's on the verge of passing out. "You just have. . . So much." The side of his face is bright red and swelling with a hand print.
Behind him a large beige tent is propped up with steel bars, a half built fire pit abandoned a few feet away. So, they really are camping in Sekacity for the night. Why didn't they go to the northern side, where it was cleaner and less crowded? Of all places they chose to camp out, it was here?
It's not making sense to him.
"So what?" Jack asks, flicking black hair out of his face. He has a silver hilted sword strapped to his back, his red and white uniform all spick and span. The white band around his wrist blinks, the tech foreign in the poor area. He and his entire team look out of place in the filthy slums of the city.
"You think we'll share with you?" He turns his attention to the crowd, his angry eyes scanning those nearest to him. His upper lip curls in distaste. "With any of you?!" Rancid's hands curl into fists, his jaw setting tight as he glares at the older man.
"Please! I didn't even open it, just let me go!" Palik sniffles, his skinny form shivering when a gust of wind blows.
"Jack, I think that's enough." Maver steps forward. His long green hair is pulled back with thin wire clips, his uniform coat is also missing. The top buttons of his long-sleeved shirt are unbuttoned and it looks like he's ready to rest for the night.