"I am a man of fortune, and I must seek my fortune."

- Henry Avery (1864)

Fortune, Luck, Chance, Fate. Humanity has a specially knack to find excuses for every situation they find mildly troubling, and these are just a few of them. The real probability of every outcome could be found through mathematical equations, in due time, but it was easier to blame chance and random results when something went off-course.

Until that very day, I didn't believed in fate. It was such a...Hopeful thought that it didn't really managed to enter my mind. I was too busy starving to death and being beaten by the corrupt police officers of the city watch every time I stole enough bits to eat, so it was understandable I wasn't able to take time off of my busy day to think and meditate on philosophy.

"Fuck...Here we go...." A ragged breath escaped my mouth as I lined myself up against the wall of the alleyway.

I had just escaped my last beating with only a dislocated shoulder, but I could tell the fucker I'd stolen from was following my trail so I had to keep moving if I didn't want to get stabbed on my way home. Closing my eyes for a moment, I held my wrist with my functional hand if only to have something to squish to distract myself from the pain, and proceeded to slam my shoulder against the concrete wall at a certain angle I found comfortable enough to do the trick.

A crack, a tight grip on my wrist and a few swears muttered under my breath later and I could freely move my right arm around again. At the very least it wasn't broken, and although it would hurt like hell for a while, it was better than going into debt to pay one of the street docs to take care of it for me. I had enough debt with the shit my parents left on me when they decided to run away.

"Where the fuck did you go, shithead?!" A masculine voice bellowed through the alley's entrance, he was getting too close for comfort.

"Shit, gotta run." Without a second thought of hesitation, I ran straight towards the end of the alleyway. A few metallic boxes were piled up just high enough for me to reach the other side of a tall wall that divided the alleyway from the entrance to a bar, it was a escape route I had used before so I knew it like the back of my hand.

Picking up enough speed to jump onto the crates and push them off the way at the same time wasn't hard for me to reach, pushing myself off the ground, I landed on top of the crates, clinging onto the top of the wall and pushing the crates down. That would either slow the idiot down or fully discourage him from following me. His wallet didn't have a lot, but it was enough for me to get by another day, once I discounted the rent that is.

Jumping over the wall and carefully landing on the other side of it, I moved into the bar through the backdoor and casually walked through the shelves of frozen alcohol. It was a nice reserve, and I knew the guy that handled the business, a good man. Well, as good as a landlord could get. Going through another door, I finally entered the bar properly. It wasn't the fanciest of places, but it was the one place I could consider home.

"Yo, brat. Got my money for the month or am I gonna have to have ya work your ass off as a waitress again? There's been a few requests, ya know?" The powerful voice of a familiar person called for my attention, he was serving the bar and was wearing very casual clothes and he seemed to be in a good mood, at the prospect of getting paid no doubt.

"Here you go Bill, buy yourself something pretty for once, would you?" I handed him half of the money I had gotten from my last pickpocketing spree, knowing where to go, who to target and how to sneak around was pretty handy in this hellhole of a city after all.

"Ya can't say shit about fashion, brat. When's the last time ya actually bought some clothes instead of stealing 'em from one of the drunkards here?" I wanted to retort but he had a point, it had been a while since I had bought any actual clothing instead of just stealing or using hand-me-downs. Could use a new change, and I did have some leftover money on top of my savings to spend on myself.

"That's actually a good idea, Bill. Shit, didn't know you had working braincells in that head of yours." There was an awkward silence, a really long silence, before the both of us laughed our asses off for a good while. I had been under his care ever since I could remember, and he may have been a bit too rough on me sometimes, but he was the best kind of family I could have.

"Alright then, off ya go. Come back before I close or you'll have to climb your way in, don't fucking break yer window again or I'll sell your shit again." He said, a smug smile on his face.

"Hey, that was one time!" I responded, a bit of a blush covering my cheeks. It had been a pretty bad night and I didn't have my keys on me so I had to break in. Worst nagging I've gotten since.

"Off ya go I said! Shoo!" I rolled my eyes. Waved him goodbye with a smile and plunged my hands into the pockets of my pants as I walked my way out the front door, checking both sides of the street, I noticed no trace of the idiot I fooled so I finally calmed down a little, looking at myself for a moment.

Thin body, a little malnourished but not too serious, an old band t-shirt, a pair of jeans that came from some poor fuck that was too drunk to notice them being gone and some running shoes even I had no idea where they came from, probably taken from a trash can by the look of it. With the night growing colder and rain being expected for the next day I decided to get a pair of new socks and a jacket. Maybe some boots if I could find a good deal nearby.

"Alright, off to Roach's place I guess." I spoke to myself, as you may now notice, I didn't really have many friends. I was a thief, an asshole and an orphan so all three put together it wasn't the best traits for a friend right?

In any case, Roach was probably the one kid my age I actually spoke with from time to time. Scavenger. Took care of following Hunters and collecting the shit they threw rarely threw away, sold at a lower price, or straight up left behind in their wake. Important work, and relatively good pay, for those that could keep up that is. Roach had been shot, cut and stabbed more times than I could count, but the fucker somehow managed to survive by some miracle. Truly a freak of nature, but my best chance at getting anything good around the lower districts of the city.

"Man, maybe I should start scavengin'...." The idea of going into dangerous situations wasn't particularly great from my point of view, I was a coward after all, main reason I could steal from people but not kill them for their shit. There was a big difference there, one that I'd rather never face.

Leaving political and moral views aside, I crossed the damp street and walked my way up to the middle-levels of the slums, Roach had an old apartment that he got a deal for in exchange for a shit ton of useless Hunter crap. Apparently the landlord was a fanboy of a certain Hunter he'd followed around for a while, luck was my best guess.

Shame my own luck was so fucking shitty.