The Winter House: DECEMBER

The village was alive with light!

From the window of every house blazed countless lanterns, garlands of entwined holly and ivy wound above every door.

The sound of music came from biwas, lyres, panpipes and countless other musical instruments, some familiar to the young Loud Ghost, others thoroughly alien. Likewise, the music played upon said instruments was a curious mix; some were traditional Christmas carols, others were works entirely of Mononoke composition, whilst others still seemed to be composed of the borrowed tunes of carols and entirely new Mononoke dialect lyrics.

Not in all his years had he known Farlas so alive with life and joy nor the Mononoke so unreserved in their dealings with humans.
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The Plot Device, 0.0

Let me introduce you to the team.

The man sitting by himself, playing a game of solataire’s named Red Herring. He’s alone because nobody trusts him. He’s a deceptive little prick; the best grifter I’ve ever seen. First met him on the streets of Monaco, though, he swears it was Geneva. Whatever, it’s not important. What is important is that there’s nobody he can’t con. Even his grandmother would believe he’s a twelve year old girl pushing scout cookies. This pied piper has everybody zigging while we zag.

At the table beside Herring, is Leitwortsil. I think he’s OCD, ADD, some nonsense. He just sits there babbling the same rubbish over and over again. Got him caught in Luxembourg when he explained a thirty million dollar art gallery heist to the insurance company. In all the years I’ve known him, he’s never shut the fuck up. Maybe five minutes tops. He’s here for one purpose and one purpose only: He’s a Rain Man. Ten Minutes to Wapner, all that. However, you give the guy a con, a heist, anything, and he’s able to boil it down to what’s absolutely vital, what you need and the most efficient why to execute it. I make sure to keep him muzzled.

Over my shoulder’s Chekov’s Gun. He’s got his uses, but I’ll explain those later.

Beside him scribbling notations on the whiteboard, trying his damndest is Anticlimax. He’s a bit of an idiot, I admit. Good kid, overthinks stuff. He’s here for one reason: He’s my brother, and I don’t trust anybody else to take over when I retire. He needs a heavy hand, but he’ll get there. I hope so. Christ, I hope he doesn’t let me down.

Moving on, stage right, rehearsing her part of the plot is the sole woman on the team. Just watch her move, lithe, tensile motions like a Rockette. Got legs like one too. Great tits. her skin’s an exotic cinammon color, long black mane the color of coffee, smoldering opal eyes. Personality to match. What I wouldn’t give for just one night with her. Mary Sue, she’s my favorite. Don’t get me wrong, she’s more than just wank material. She’s the perfect thief. If Herring were, I don’t know, the Red King, she’d be the Black Queen. No safe she can’t crack, no laser grid she can’t samba through, no object she can’t steal. She could lift the hair piece off Donald Trump, him none the wiser. Hell, she could make a whole island disappear off the globe.

Guess that just leaves me. You can call me MacGuffin. I’m the boss; I put the pieces in play. The team, the mark, that’s my doing. These characters, they’re pretty much worthless individually, but as a team, unstoppable. I keep everything greased and churning, keep everything from going pear-shaped. That’s all you need to know.

So, what is our con? A bank, a museum, maybe a private citizen? Well, wouldn’t you like to know. I’ll save that for another time…do believe that’s called a cliffhanger.

x-posted at Neville, Nevilleland