Gilbert Stern | Guildenstern (noexplanations) wrote in musingslogs, @ 2010-10-13 11:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | guildenstern, sleeping beauty |
Who: Gil and Jen
What: Man: Interrupted. Specifically, interrupted while up to activities of questionable legality.
When: Post-Bank fiasco, probably a few days later, in fact, once things have calmed down.
Where: Outside a reputable jewellery store in the area.
Warnings: None. Not as far as I know, anyway.
Scene opens. A man (Gil) stands outside the shop, or more specifically sits on a bench outside the shop, as he has been for the past few hours. He's fairly young, with the unfortunate habit of looking guilty whether or not he's actually done anything (although given his trade he usually has), but at the moment is engaged in nothing more suspicious than sitting on a bench, reading a book, or so it appears, and writing things in the margins every so often. In actuality, he's busy preparing. Researching, so to speak.
The hardest part of the con, he reflects, is always this part, the watching, waiting, monitoring...casing, to use the proper parlance, beforehand. But it is arguably the most important part as well, crucial for the formation of a successful plan; you need facts first, the whos, whats, whens, an idea of the major players and their parts in the action, their entrances, exits. All useful components to be collected and filed, examined later, and put together with the rest of the information into a carefully constructed plan, the execution of which would (hopefully) result in a success.
He should have brought Ross along he thinks, a lapse in the action providing time for a momentary soliloquoy. They always work better in tandem, each somehow lost without the other, like a guitar without the sound board. Incomplete, and to a degree ineffective. He can function independently of course, they both can, but he knows there will inevitably be something he will miss that the other would have caught. No matter, they'll manage. They always do, somehow.
The moment passes, as all bouts of introspection do, and the action resumes as if it had never been interrupted. A raised book, his cover, excuse for being there for so long; just a resident enjoying the unexpected sun, nothing to be suspected. People pass, barely noticing he's there at all. He adds something else as a woman exits the shop, notes the time just in case it might be relevant. They seem to be doing quite a bit of business this afternoon; he doesn't know how it fits, not yet, but it could come in handy when they move on to actually carrying out the plan.