Rancid watches the smile fall from his brother's face and frowns. Damn it.
"Palik, come here." He gestures him closer with a nod of his head. When Rancid gives him a silver coin, his smile returns and he drags Folly to a stall that sells miscellaneous things.
"He'll get spoiled if you keep caving in like that." Farron chuckles. After tossing away their skewers, they both climb up to sit on the top of the wall.
Rancid props up his knee and rests his arm over it, his boot scuffing against the brick. He can see further down the road, along with the street behind him. He also has a good view of his brother, who still hasn't finished off his breakfast, and Folly talking about the high ranking Precinct Espers. As the sun starts to rise, the streets grow more crowded. Some people who pass by wave at him and Farron in greeting, but don't come up to start a conversation.
Rancid scans the rest of the market circle, dozens of small stalls shouting out their goods to catch the attention of the crowd. He thinks if someone from the northern part of the city saw this, they wouldn't call it pretty. Everyone in the southern side is covered in some kind of filth or dirt, not that Rancid is one to judge, when he is too. Not to mention that despite there being bins that line the streets, they are so few and far between that trash ends up on the dirt road.
"I think Palik is sick." Rancid says as he watches his brother across the road. "He's not the normal kind of sick." He eyes the untouched skewer in Palik's hand. "It's a sickness that hides." He glances at Farron, his thick and pale eyebrows furrowing as he reaches up to scratch the skin behind his ear. "It doesn't matter how many times I get him something to eat, he still isn't gaining any weight. He looks more tired everyday."
"He does look pale." Farron admits.
"I've been taking extra jobs during the night to save enough to take him to a doctor." Rancid admits.
"Are you insane?" Farron leans towards him and rests his elbow on Rancid's shoulder as he glares at him, "You'll wither yourself out like that before you get him to one." He ruffles his dark hair with his other hand and sighs. He glances over at Plaik, his frown deepening, "I'll help you." He says, his voice firm. He turns back to Rancid, "Folly and I have been saving up too, just in case there's an emergency."
"No way." Rancid scoffs and kicks him in the shin, "It's for emergencies. Save it."
"Ran," Farron scoffs and pushes off of him, "If Palik's sickness isn't an emergency, then what else would I use it for?"
The question catches Rancid off guard, and he blinks before he turns away. He spots a rat scurrying along the bottom of the wall before it burrows into a hole. He scans the busy market circle and then shrugs. "Well, don't come to me afterwards to pay you back."
Farron laughs and smacks Rancid's shoulder, "If I ever do, you have permission to punch me."
"Hey!" A voice catches their attention. Below, a woman a little older than them waves them down and the two guys jump off the wall.
Aly has brown curly hair tied up into a bun at the top of her head, her blue jean overalls faded and torn from over use. Her skin is burned red from being out in the sun for too long, but she doesn't seem to care. "Mr. Tendo has a job for ya's." She says.
***
Screech. Rattle!
The light overhead flickers in the large chamber as a metal cylinder comes to a grinding halt, flakes of dirt and dust settling on the wet floor. Mr. Tendo, the Head of the second sewage plant, covers his nose and mouth with one hand, and with the other, gestures to the machine. "Ya see. It's all trapped in 'ere. An' none'a my employee's will do it."
"I can see why." Rancid mutters with a wrinkled nose. His nostril hairs burned the moment they climbed down the ladder and into the giant water plantation, the pungent smell of sewage thick in the air. "You leave it to us, Mr. Tendo."
It's a good thing he came with his thickest jeans and long sleeve shirt. They're both patched up with stitches where holes had once been, his boots lined with rubber to keep out the wet.
"Double the pay." Farron demands from beside him, "You see how many layers of shit that is?" He squints his eyes at the thick gunk, the bridge of his nose scrunching. He'd rather not put his face so close to it.
Mr. Tendo grumbles under his breath, his crooked finger scratching the back of his neck as he glares at them, "Double pay? Ya know how much-"
"Double the pay." Rancid agrees with his friend. He arches a thick and pale eyebrow at the older man in challenge as he puts a hand on Farron's dark hair and shoves his face closer to the clogged and filthy filter.
"Damn it-" Farron jumps away, his eyes watering from the horrific stench. He can feel the germs burning at his retinas. "You gods damned ass-" He reaches up to rub them, his vision blurring.
"Or you can just buy a whole new filter-" Rancid snickers as Farron falls back on his butt with a wet splat. He gags as he pushes himself up, flicking the dirty wetness off.
"A'right, a'right. Double pay." Mr. Tendo mutters. "Jus' get it done quick." He turns and climbs the ladder back up to the first floor, his steps echoing down towards them.
"Jeez, why'd he wait so long to get this done?" Farron pulls his steel chisel out of his patched up cargo pants and taps it against the hardened gunk on the filter.