Devlin Dreki

✧ Being poor is expensive. You can't buy in bulk to save money. You pay fees for not having enough in your account. You buy cheap shoes that wear out fast instead of good ones that last.

✧ The math is constant. Every purchase is a calculation. Can I afford this? What can I skip? Is this worth it? Your character's always doing mental accounting.

✧ You get creative. Meals from whatever's left in the pantry. Fixing things with duct tape and hope. Making do because you have to.

✧ Shame is real. Your character might lie about why they can't go out. Make excuses. Hide their situation because poverty is treated like a moral failure.

✧ Small luxuries feel huge. A coffee from an actual coffee shop instead of gas station. Buying name-brand something. These aren't nothing, they're big deals.

✧ You're always tired. Working multiple jobs, irregular hours, the stress of never having enough, it's exhausting. Your character's running on empty.

✧ Future planning is hard. When you're worried about making rent, thinking about retirement or savings feels impossible. You're in survival mode.

✧ Other people don't get it. Friends who casually suggest expensive activities. People who think you're bad with money when really there's just not enough of it.

✧ The system works against you. Need an ID to get a job but need money to get an ID. Need an address to get assistance but you're homeless. Catch-22s everywhere.

I grew up poor in rural england and walked miles over fields to school each day, no car, no heating, single-pane glass in 1700s house, a bus only on fridays, etc etc, the 'aesthetic' country living that people so love to romanticise. surrounded of course by the rich.

rural poverty looks like: never tasting unwatered juice or milk, only allowed two sips at a time. saving your birthday money for rent. plain oats, no cereal. your bones hurting from being tensed in the cold in winter because you don't have functioning heating. no kettle or microwave, everything done on the hob. walking in the dark to our landlord's house to pay for electricity to put on the meter, then walking back home. knowing that he is not just a landlord, he is a Lord; as in, yes, a hereditary position. if my mother stops cleaning for him, we'll lose the house. isn't that serfdom?? you're too tired to do anything about it.

washing at the swimming pool instead of home because the hairdryer uses too much electricity. and if you sit for hours with wet hair, you'll get sick. if you do wash at home, doing it right before cooking, so you can dry your hair in the relative heat of the kitchen. the water takes an hour to heat and the whole family shares it, bath growing slowly colder. there's no shower. the sluggishness and lethargy that comes with constantly being cold. the need to meticulously wipe not only the bathroom but all surfaces of the house, windows and walls alike, twice a day to prevent mould from forming from condensation. if you don't get up early enough, the water will drip on the inside of the windows and begin to sink into the frame. once you took the bookcase away from the wall and there were mushrooms, actual black mushrooms, growing behind it. no wonder you'd all been sick so often. no wonder your asthma is bad.

the draft under the door. the chill on your ankles. the way it seeps in through the single-glazed windows, no matter how much you sew, no matter how much you try and cover it. sewing bolsters and curtains and everything we can to keep the heat in. the constant yell of SHUT THE DOOR. going around your house with tights, trousers, a skirt, a dressing gown and a blanket on, all to cover your legs. trying to study for exams but there's no phone signal and the internet keeps dropping because of the storm.

buying all of your food in the reduced section. not even knowing what your preferences are because that has never been and will never be relevant. longing for warmth like a physical ache. jaw in pain with constant tension headache. thinking 5 miles isn't that long of a one-way trip to walk. being VERY good at navigation and knowing points of the compass. the absolute silence and blackness of the night without street lamps. you can't light a fire in the chimney as it's blocked and the landlord won't fix it. it's not a priority, except there's no heating and the house was built for a fire. instead down the chimney comes the howling wind and the cold. it doesn't matter whether the family gets on. each evening you're in one room together. it's the only way the heat stays in.

Additionally, thank you. This will really help when it comes to him explaining his past with his family. The setting despite being a fantasy world is still vaguely in North Carolina where it does snow, but it also still gets incredibly hot in the summer.

✧ Being poor is expensive. You can't buy in bulk to save money. You pay fees for not having enough in your account. You buy cheap shoes that wear out fast instead of good ones that last.

✧ The math is constant. Every purchase is a calculation. Can I afford this? What can I skip? Is this worth it? Your character's always doing mental accounting.

✧ You get creative. Meals from whatever's left in the pantry. Fixing things with duct tape and hope. Making do because you have to.

✧ Shame is real. Your character might lie about why they can't go out. Make excuses. Hide their situation because poverty is treated like a moral failure.

✧ Small luxuries feel huge. A coffee from an actual coffee shop instead of gas station. Buying name-brand something. These aren't nothing, they're big deals.

✧ You're always tired. Working multiple jobs, irregular hours, the stress of never having enough, it's exhausting. Your character's running on empty.

✧ Future planning is hard. When you're worried about making rent, thinking about retirement or savings feels impossible. You're in survival mode.

✧ Other people don't get it. Friends who casually suggest expensive activities. People who think you're bad with money when really there's just not enough of it.

✧ The system works against you. Need an ID to get a job but need money to get an ID. Need an address to get assistance but you're homeless. Catch-22s everywhere.