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The thieves’ lair was so chaotic that not a single thief noticed when December dropped into the room. Shouts of outrage and defiance clashed with bids of support and encouragement, the space ultimately filled with a cacophony of raised voices. December slowly rose, warily scanning the room to gauge the reactions, stifling a yawn upon realizing how late it had gotten. Surely it was past midnight, meaning that the first challenge would take place in less than twelve hours – and December was certain that he hadn’t managed much more than seven hours of sleep total the last few nights. He braced himself for the expected – no, inevitable – argument when one of the older thieves finally noticed his presence.
“December!” the recruit called out, instantly silencing the squabbling boys. “What the hell’s the meaning of this?” A tense second ticked by, each thief anxiously awaiting their leader’s response. The albino closed his eyes briefly, collecting his thoughts as he attempted to formulate a response. Finally, he crossed the room to stand before his subordinates.
“You don’t trust my judgment?” he asked, quietly, expectantly. “Do you not have faith in me as a leader? When I make a decision, it’s for our benefit. Has there ever been an instance in which that was untrue?” A few murmurs of agreement swept through the ranks, but the accusing thief stopped the spread with a harsh look.
“I realize that these last few days have been rough. Even I could agree that they’ve been challenging,” their leader continued. These speeches were always the same; they were level, void of any real emotion. “This is the first time in quite a while that we’ve failed to meet our pin quota, and I understand what that means for this group and for its rank. Today has been both a victory and a failure. My decision to accept Loyalty’s challenge is beneficial, as always, and will allow us to compensate for that failure.”
Further mutterings of assent overtook the thieves, some going so far as to applaud his statement. The single thief remained unsatisfied with the response, and glared intensely at December. “I still don’t see what it is you just signed us up for. What’s this decision you made? How’re we involved? And… and what about that pin? Do you expect us to just sit here and screw around while a friend dies?” A few aggressive cheers of agreement broke out, and December paused once more to consider his reply. Just one wrong word would be enough to lose what support he had in the matter.
“What I’ve agreed to is a chance to prove to the lesser thieves of Mars why this gang is on top. What I’ve agreed to is a challenge from Loyalty, a challenge that will determine once and for all who the better group is.” Arching an eyebrow, December scanned the crowd for reactions, mildly satisfied to find that his opposition was dwindling. “I decided to participate in order to eliminate the possibility of further border disputes like the one faced today. I’d prefer not to have any of my recruits killed or injured in pathetic squabbles that aren’t worth my time. As far as participation is concerned, you aren’t involved. Not unless you so choose to be.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” the opposing thief instantly retorted, maintaining his glare. “How are we not involved? That bitch challenged this entire gang.”
“Not entirely true,” December warily responded. “No-name challenged this gang in general. Her challenges require seven of us at a time – only six of you at a time. Unless I so choose to force your involvement, no one necessarily needs to participate. To answer your other question…” The issue of the pin was serious – as serious as anything could be, life or death. December noticed the recruit who questioned him frown impatiently, though his hesitation was understandable.
“About the pin… I don’t expect you to sit idly by and watch a comrade die.” The few mutterings and whispers that had been present in the room faded abruptly. “I do, however, expect you to remain loyal to both this gang and myself no matter how this ends. One of us is going to die tomorrow, unless by some miracle a pin is obtained by then. Being a thief… It’s a hard life. One with a high mortality rate; we all accepted that long ago, the minute we became thieves whether by choice or out of necessity. I know it’s hard to lose people…” December broke off, his voice slightly unsteady, though none noticed.
“I know that it’s hard to lose people,” he repeated, voice steadier. “but it’s necessary to accept that this existence is an unpleasant one and everyone can’t always succeed. If you fall into complacency, you forget how serious survival is, how difficult it truly can be. The Sweep isn’t a game. Remember that.” Removing his cloak, December crossed the room again and unfolded the thin sheet he slept tangled in, each slight noise he made echoing loudly and clumsily through the basement.
Looking up, he drowsily noted that he was receiving stares. “You’d best get some sleep,” he said, causing a few thieves to stir from their stupor. “Capture the flag begins at midday.” Without a question, his recruits complied. There was no longer any question of December’s leadership, or anything else, for that matter.
“December!” the recruit called out, instantly silencing the squabbling boys. “What the hell’s the meaning of this?” A tense second ticked by, each thief anxiously awaiting their leader’s response. The albino closed his eyes briefly, collecting his thoughts as he attempted to formulate a response. Finally, he crossed the room to stand before his subordinates.
“You don’t trust my judgment?” he asked, quietly, expectantly. “Do you not have faith in me as a leader? When I make a decision, it’s for our benefit. Has there ever been an instance in which that was untrue?” A few murmurs of agreement swept through the ranks, but the accusing thief stopped the spread with a harsh look.
“I realize that these last few days have been rough. Even I could agree that they’ve been challenging,” their leader continued. These speeches were always the same; they were level, void of any real emotion. “This is the first time in quite a while that we’ve failed to meet our pin quota, and I understand what that means for this group and for its rank. Today has been both a victory and a failure. My decision to accept Loyalty’s challenge is beneficial, as always, and will allow us to compensate for that failure.”
Further mutterings of assent overtook the thieves, some going so far as to applaud his statement. The single thief remained unsatisfied with the response, and glared intensely at December. “I still don’t see what it is you just signed us up for. What’s this decision you made? How’re we involved? And… and what about that pin? Do you expect us to just sit here and screw around while a friend dies?” A few aggressive cheers of agreement broke out, and December paused once more to consider his reply. Just one wrong word would be enough to lose what support he had in the matter.
“What I’ve agreed to is a chance to prove to the lesser thieves of Mars why this gang is on top. What I’ve agreed to is a challenge from Loyalty, a challenge that will determine once and for all who the better group is.” Arching an eyebrow, December scanned the crowd for reactions, mildly satisfied to find that his opposition was dwindling. “I decided to participate in order to eliminate the possibility of further border disputes like the one faced today. I’d prefer not to have any of my recruits killed or injured in pathetic squabbles that aren’t worth my time. As far as participation is concerned, you aren’t involved. Not unless you so choose to be.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” the opposing thief instantly retorted, maintaining his glare. “How are we not involved? That bitch challenged this entire gang.”
“Not entirely true,” December warily responded. “No-name challenged this gang in general. Her challenges require seven of us at a time – only six of you at a time. Unless I so choose to force your involvement, no one necessarily needs to participate. To answer your other question…” The issue of the pin was serious – as serious as anything could be, life or death. December noticed the recruit who questioned him frown impatiently, though his hesitation was understandable.
“About the pin… I don’t expect you to sit idly by and watch a comrade die.” The few mutterings and whispers that had been present in the room faded abruptly. “I do, however, expect you to remain loyal to both this gang and myself no matter how this ends. One of us is going to die tomorrow, unless by some miracle a pin is obtained by then. Being a thief… It’s a hard life. One with a high mortality rate; we all accepted that long ago, the minute we became thieves whether by choice or out of necessity. I know it’s hard to lose people…” December broke off, his voice slightly unsteady, though none noticed.
“I know that it’s hard to lose people,” he repeated, voice steadier. “but it’s necessary to accept that this existence is an unpleasant one and everyone can’t always succeed. If you fall into complacency, you forget how serious survival is, how difficult it truly can be. The Sweep isn’t a game. Remember that.” Removing his cloak, December crossed the room again and unfolded the thin sheet he slept tangled in, each slight noise he made echoing loudly and clumsily through the basement.
Looking up, he drowsily noted that he was receiving stares. “You’d best get some sleep,” he said, causing a few thieves to stir from their stupor. “Capture the flag begins at midday.” Without a question, his recruits complied. There was no longer any question of December’s leadership, or anything else, for that matter.
Literature
Trash
The moment you touch the rim of the bottle to throw it away, you can see the shake hands holding it. Drunk. You assume. You’ve seen it before. Lot of beer can and bottle get left by drunks. You don’t mind cleaning up. It’s like people watching the past. But this. This is old. The path you see through the eyes of the former owner of the bottle is unmarked. The owner didn’t walk on the hiking trails but through the forest. Perhaps they weren’t public yet. The bottle is lifted toward the owners mouth. Emptying it. Now holding it down. The bottle in one hand while the former owner tries to undo his pants!? Oh. Ew.
Yo
Literature
Back and Forth
It's all the same every day
You always have a lot to say
First you're angry, screaming loud
Then you're acting as if you're proud
First you say I screwed things up
Then you're giving me a free soda cup
You tell me I do nothing when I really tried
You ignore that you're killing me inside
Then you laugh and share the fun
As if a new day has begun
But it's not ok
It doesn't go away
You still make me feel like utter shit
Then a second later, forget about it
I do so much to please you
But all of my plans just fall through
You claim you show all the signs
You ignore everything the same of mine
When I wanna die you call me a liar
Literature
There is no dignity in death
"Let's try that again, shall we?"
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Just a segment of Blind Man's Bluff. I edited it and really liked how it turned out.
On the twenty-second of this month, Child-of-Sleep and I will have been working on this story for exactly one year. I want to write something to post then, about Olivia and December, but who knows.
Anyway, I'm going back to lurk in the shadows.
That said, enjoy (or not)...
On the twenty-second of this month, Child-of-Sleep and I will have been working on this story for exactly one year. I want to write something to post then, about Olivia and December, but who knows.
Anyway, I'm going back to lurk in the shadows.
That said, enjoy (or not)...
© 2015 - 2024 nothing-creative
Comments7
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I love December. One suggestion. A very strong part of this story was the one thief's opposition to his rule (conflict being a major driving point to any story). Giving him a name would make him an even stronger antagonist especially considering there were others rallying around