corrupt to the CORE// [pthalo!]

[48556A] [7A7C7D] [5C808D]

Run. Instinct kicks in immediately, as it usually does. Each step I take brings me closer and closer to the busy town square. Each step brings me further and further away from the little shop by the docks. Its door, nearly broken off its hinges, remained open all the while as I sifted through all of the wares. Rookie mistakes would be the death of me if I kept at them. And if they weren't the cause of my death, they'd certainly be the reason for why I'd end up locked away forever. Luckily for the man who evidently owned the shop, I hadn't had the time to grab anything useful. String and fishing line wouldn't be of any use to me for now as I already had a bundle at home, sitting under my floorboards. Still, the man must have believed that I was desperate for anything. At least, that's what it looked like when he came barging in with a trident in his hands.

Finally. Four more steps and I can turn down the alleyway and avoid the man with the trident. And it was as simple as that. I was gone an into the crowd of people who had no idea of my previous actions. Good. It wasn't like I did anything bad though. Just kicked in a door. I've done much worse, got caught, and had absolutely no punishment except for a slap on the wrist and a warning. Kicking in a door wasn't much of a big deal. Still, I kept up my pace until I was at the other end of the square and out of sight. Pushing my back up against the wall, I struggled to catch my breath and to fill my lungs back up. It didn't take long before I was running down another alleyway and into the darkness that accompanied it. Gone. I was gone from the eyes of anybody who watched. Nothing useful had been gained from that endeavour. That's how most heists were lately.

Perhaps I was losing my skill. The light touch I had that could help me in so many ways was maybe becoming a lot more evident. No more slipping coin purses out of people's jackets and going unnoticed for long enough for me to run away. Sneaking in to houses had become more difficult too. Soft steps were now giving off too much noise, leaving me with a few seconds to get the hell out of the place if I wanted to make it out alive and free. Maybe I was losing the thief's touch, you know. It would make sense that people lose their skills so they could quit that life and move on. What could I move on to though? Continuing to be a paper boy for the rest of my life. That sounded like something to look forward to.

I didn't want to quit this job. That's what it had become at this point. Food wasn't as much of a necessity any more. There would be days where I'd hear my stomach growl and want to be filled with more and more food. However, I wasn't starving any more. That was the whole point of this. Now though, I focused on getting things that would keep us happy and not alive. Every once in a while I'd return with some bread and some meat or fish but usually it would be cotton and soap being hidden somewhere until I could bring it to my parents with a legitimate reason. Ever since I was young I knew about the hole in the back of our house. It wasn't too big so it wasn't very noticeable and the outside wall of the house managed to cover over it well enough. With just a slight bit of effort, it could be pulled back enough to reach in and to snatch up the things inside. Most of my stolen goods went there.

The hat that always remained on my head bounced around as I came out onto the street. Today was a work day and I would be spending most of it on the streets outside the Justice Building. Standing above most of the other building, the Justice Building was where I would spend most of my time shouting to attract others. That was my job. Getting people to buy papers and things like that. Being one of the richer Districts, we can afford to have a printing hall nearby the docks. And luckily for me, I have a loud voice that can get the attention of all those around me. Placing myself nearby the building, I prepared to shout out. This was the typical day. Boring and long. And then I'd get home and I'd do what I loved to do. Stealing. I couldn't be losing the one thing that I was actually good at. Not now. Hopefully not for a while.

"Get your papers here!"