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Kimberley wasn’t unaware that this was messed up on some level - that watching his little sister sob and ball and sputter in pain no longer immediately elicited deep seated concern and empathetic pains. He was aware, on some level, that he should feel sorry for her, should try to help her feel better - he used to, when they first joined The Herd, a few years ago now - Kimberley was only seven, Annie barely out of her toddler years at the time; Percival used to fret over his little sister at every little scrape or scratch, and now he couldn’t even bring himself to worry over her after getting herself beat for screwing up.
Granted, maybe it had something to do with the fact that her messing up had ended with him getting beaten too, but only a small part, he was sure. Over the years he had become more and more desensitized to pain, anyone’s pain really, to the point where his awareness sort of faded out during situations where he had to help people, as rare as those situations were outside of dealing with his mother and sister. Still a prepubescent teenager, Percival Huckleberry Kimberley had developed a thicker skin, a callous external shell to keep others further away and protect the softer parts of himself that still existed in some deep part of his mind.
He still loved his sister and mother - sort of… His mother was the reason he was part of The Herd anyway, and she wasn’t lacking in faults when he was at home, when he wasn’t hurting other people or gathering information for Huntress. Maybe that’s where Annie got her quirks from - the seemingly constant need to manipulate and weasel her way into bad situations and then try, and mostly fail, to wiggle her way out or to blame it on others…
She hadn’t gotten away with the lies this time - it had cost them their cover and the information they were supposed to bring back to Huntress; She was not kind to Annie and even less kind to one of her most prized pupils, Percival, who was only sent with his sister to keep an eye on her, make sure she behaved. Annie had failed in getting information, Percival had failed in making sure she did her job competently, and they were both punished for it.
Honestly, there was a sick satisfaction watching his little sister hold around herself and cry like this. Here Kimberley was, covered in even worse wounds, bruises, and welts, but his sister was the one absolutely losing it, choking and sobbing and about to make herself sick. Annie, despite being smart enough to learn, as her elder brother had, that whining and showing weakness only earned more pain, was determined to make someone feel sorry for her. Percival wouldn’t be that person, not this time - usually he could put on that big brother mask and pretend that he wasn’t annoyed, but this time she had brought him into the line of fire - let her suffer a little bit.
… That was wrong, wasn’t it? Some part of him knew that.
Some of the others in The Herd still cared about their siblings more than Percival did - they had never stopped trying to protect each other from the pain and horrors that came with the job… Maybe that’s why Huntress appreciated Percival so much - for his “maturity” she often said; Her favored pupils were often older, often in their late teenage years, and colder than all of the kids around Percival and Annie’s ages - and yet some of them shied away from him as if he were the worst of them… Others tried to break him on occasion, but he always got back up; Weakness was death in this job, and death in The Herd was… cruel.
Just a few months prior he had had to… handle the situation with Wolf and that was - …
Let’s not discuss that.
“You’re gun’ make yerse’f sick,” was followed by Percival snorting and then spitting a globule of mucus and blood into the street before looking back to his sister. Annabelle glared at him from her deep brown eyes, surrounded by blotchy red skin and drowning with tears. She sniffled and then returned to sobbing.
It wasn’t her actual cry. Kimberley had practically raised his little sister - sure as hell more than his mother had - and he knew her cries by now. Sure, this had started as actual tears for her pain, but now she just wanted a reaction, and again, Percival wasn’t going to be the one to give it to her.
“‘Et’s go,” was the only notice the boy gave before he started walking.
Annie’s cries faded into the background as he stepped down the dimly lit street - as the sun let itself set completely and the darkness around became suffocating, the sound of quick, but small steps sounded behind him, coming closer and closer; Usually the boy would have gone on the defense immediately, but it was just Annie finally deciding to catch up and hold onto her big brother’s arm, keeping him close for safety as they walked the streets of the city.
The upper class, well lit and evenly-paved stone roads soon eased gradually into a darkness with the occasional, rare flickering lamp. Annie tripped a few times, not picking her feet up enough for some of the uneven cobble stones of the poorly kept street. The slums smelled like death and sewage and shit - there was always a body or a body’s leftovers somewhere. Maybe they’d get lucky and pass a semi-fresh body and Percival could grab the teeth for some extra cash.
Unfortunately, no such luck. Just a luckily uneventful walk home - no, not home. They didn’t have a home, they had a shelter…
A shack, really. They could hear their mother from a quarter of a block away, once they got close enough. They knew what those sounds meant, and they meant stay away. Their mother and her newest … benefactor were… uh, busy. It was best to stay away for now, to wander the streets for a little longer and wait out the obscene. Honestly, it was safer out in the dark than it was interrupting their mother and whoever she was with on a daily basis.
So the pair took another lap around what might be considered a neighborhood, if only for lack of a better descriptor of how the roads turned this way and that in an ever-confusing maze of unknown paths. One could easily get lost, or worse, on these streets.
But Percival had both hands in his pockets, his right arm currently occupied by his little sister - she knew better than to hang onto his dominant arm at this point, which ended in a fist held tightly around a dagger made for someone larger than Percival - but it served its purpose well, on more than one occasion even. He knew these roads well enough not to get lost, and even on the off-chance that he did lose his way for a moment, his weapon was there, always, and it hadn’t failed him so far.
At least when he actually chose to pull it. He hadn’t ever used it on his mother - yet - but had used it on one of her shitty, good-for-nothing boyfriends before, after the guy had hit his mother and then went to beat Kimberley’s toddler of a little sister after taking his frustrations out on Percival too. That was back when Kimberley gave more of a shit about his sister, back when he didn’t know what death really was quite yet.
His first kill had been before he even joined The Herd, had really been an accident meant more to temporarily harm than to permanently dispose of. But hey, it had gotten them out of a bad situation - though arguably into even worse ones, so…
Percival shook his head, the movement unintentionally shuffling his disgustingly unkempt sandy blonde hair - it was clumped together with blood that was starting to coagulate, and the dust and grime that every step kicked up in the slums didn’t help any. They both were pretty bad off, and Kimberley knew better than to expect Huntress to let him and his sister bathe after a beating like this - she’d let them suffer in their own filth for a few days. They deserved it.
Halfway around their time-wasting lap, Annie had gotten tired, had jumped onto her brother’s back and let him carry her back home. He held her legs while she knocked on the front door over his shoulder - it didn’t budge when she tried the knob either. Percival dropped his little sister onto her feet and she dutifully walked over to the window, one of the top quadrants shattered. She stood on her toes and Percival watched as the girl took in the internal layout of the house - it was maybe half a minute before she looked to her older brother with a pout.
Despite having the habit earn him a heavy slap to the face around either his mother or Huntress, Percival couldn’t help but roll his eyes and give an annoyed, “Fuck.”
“She’ passed ou’ agai’...”
Percival huffed and walked over towards his sister to look inside for himself. The way too skinny and lanky young man that had ‘taken them in’ this month had provided their mother’s newest addiction and it looked now like she had decided to partake - enough to make her unconscious. Her ‘boyfriend’ sat on the edge of the rickety, cheap bed and was currently taking his turn.
Percival huffed in annoyance, rolled his eyes, and went to begin banging on the door. And again… And again.
“Fu’ off ye’ dick’ead!” was the only response that Percival earned himself. Another set of knocks was met with silence-
Fine, whatever-
At least it wasn’t raining.
“Come on Bunny,” was followed by Percival walking again. He had, pretty quickly after moving into this newest rundown abode, found all of the nearby places where the homeless or abandoned druggy kids hung out around pitiful fires, huddling together for heat and some company that wasn’t their shitty parents.
It took at least a half hour or more to find one that didn’t also have some homeless man who was talking to himself in intoxicated rambles - there was one spot, between some buildings and around an alley corner where a specific entry could only be passed through by children, that would be safer, if even more disgusting and unkempt than the others that adults were allowed in.
Kimberley couldn’t get to these places anymore. He was just a touch too tall to fit comfortably inside this makeshift fort, so while he ushered his little sister into the hovel that smelled like disgusting, sweaty children, who quietly sobbed to each other sometimes, Percival sat outside of the entrance; He sat against the wall of bricks that was chipped and cracked in so many places, it was a wonder the building didn’t cave in on itself.
The sky above wasn’t as clear as it had been just a while ago, on their way home - the clouds had rolled in quickly; It was a rare day in Hollyborough that it didn’t rain…
… Well, at least he’d come out of the night a slight bit cleaner.
This was gonna be a long night…