George Davidson, a 19 year old peasant, living in a small shack just outside of the DSMP Kingdom. You see, he's usually found stealing items from the King or Queen, without being seen. But with the new announcement of their hidden son who's been tra...
The sun rose, as the light peeked through the slightly tattered blinds of the brunet's window shades, glinting into his eyes.
He whined as the light was quite a bother. He'd been out all night, lurking through the village to find something to eat. You see, he was poor. Well- he was decently wealthy. But he wasn't sure what to do if he were to even live in the village. Would he be judged? He sighed as he rubbed his eyes, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
He shuffled over to his closet, pulling out his usual black hoodie, black pants and clout goggles. He knew he looked suspicious, but it was all he could do. After all, what was a criminal supposed to wear when stealing? Bright yellow cardigan with red shoes, shouting 'hey! I'm a criminal, come get me!'? Nah. He didn't want to risk anything going wrong. Today he was just going to look for food.
He pulled on his black tennis shoes as he swung his drawstring bag over his left shoulder and made his way into the kitchen and out the creaky front door. He took a deep breath, breathing in the fresh morning air. He needed a break from running.. but he couldn't. He needed to survive and that was that. Nothing more, nothing less.
He didn't exactly choose this lifestyle, but what was he supposed to do? Live for a few weeks then die? He sighed as he thought about the people that could notice him stealing, but he never got caught. What made a difference from today?
He began walking North, towards the DSMP village, that was conveniently right next to the DSMP Castle. The whole territory that he was about to set foot on was called the DSMP Kingdom. He thought about how life would be as royalty. He'd always dreamt about it as a little boy.
He sighed and shook his head, now searching through his bag. He shrugged it off his shoulder, as he knelt down, digging for his bandages. He found a roll of tattered off-white bandages as he tore the ones he was currently wearing off as he discarded them carelessly to the ground.
He found the beginning of the roll, as he taped up his slightly bloody wound on his arm. He had caught his arm on a metal piece last week when he was looking for food. He winced as he pressed slightly too hard on the wound, earning a small his of pain from his mouth.
"Fucking bullshit- I swear if I get hurt one more fucking time-" He grumbled as he cut the tape with his teeth and packed the roll back into his bag. He pushed himself up from the ground, as he swung the bag over his shoulder once again.
