~ Word of the Day ~

Started by Blythe, March 21, 2017, 01:41:05 PM

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Beautiful Mystery

Today's word of the day is....

flat-hat
verb FLAT-hat

Definition
1 : to fly low in an airplane in a reckless manner : hedgehop
Check A/A
The devil doesn't come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns.
He comes dressed as everything you have wished for.
O2//A2//Request//Boudoir

corvusul86

The briefing room was dark, with only a few scattered emergency lights as well as the glow of the holo tank that dominated the center of the room.  It was currently showing a bright blue reproduction of the entrance to New London, the thick dome that covered the colony designed to keep out the harsh alpha centauri surface conditions.  It was the only entrance to the domed city, other than blasting a hole that risked killing nearly three million human colonists.

"Look, I'll give ya it's kinda narrow, but there should be plenty of room" Lt. Commander Arya said.  She was a short woman, with her dar hair pulled back into a ponytail, and white teeth that glowed against her dusky skin.  She was wearing the same dark blue flight suit as the rest of her unit, which was gathered around the holo tank to watch the presentation.

"How wide is the gate?" Galovin asked in his croaking voice.  At first glance no one would have expected the pudgy, batrachian alien to be an elite pilot, but no one was in the squadron if they weren't

"Four hundred and fourteen centimeters," Lt. Taylor said in his clipped British accent.

"And how wide are our fighters?" Galovin asked suspiciously.

"Four hundred and eight centimeters," Lt. Taylor answered.

"Six centimeters!" Fordrix shrieked, the seven tentacles that were where his head 'should be' waving in outrage.  His entire body was quivering in indignation, a particularly disturbing sight given his sack like body was mostly given form by his special flight suit.

"Exactly, plenty of margin for error," Lt. Commander Arya said agreeably.  "After that we'll just need to flat-hat our way down the main thoroughfare until-"

"Flat-hat?" Galovin interrupted.

"Yeah, it's where you fly so low to the ground you'd be crushing anyone's hats that's wearing them," she explained cheerfully.

"I recommend flying at least eight feet off of the ground at all times, ma'am," Lt. Taylor recommended stoically.  "Any lower than that and the updraft from our engines make control nearly impossible."

"Well, we can try that, but I doubt we'll have enough clearance once we get off the main road and fly into the maintenance tunnels-"

"Maintenance tunnels?" Fordrix quivered.

"Of course," their leader said with a happy smile.  "How else do you expect us to fly into the fusion reactor?"

"Doomed..." Fordrix moaned.

Shores

"And above all else, you do not flat-hat the Queen." He looked at the pilot with a steely gaze.

"But what if she asks for it?" She retorted.

"Then you refuse her orders!"

"You want me to refuse the orders of the Queen? Even you can't do that."

"If it threatens her life, then anyone can do it!" He bristled, his moustache jumping up.

"But it won't threaten her life. I'm quite confident of that."

"I don't care what you say. Flying a plane so low it crushes her hat is not an option."

"It's a waste of a beautiful hat. But no, that's not what she wants. She wants to pilot the plane and fly it so low that it crushes someone else's hat."

"Oh. Well. That's quite alright then. Have a volunteer lined up."

ZephyrInk

“There’s a sand storm coming our way!” he bellowed, keeping the steering steady as his eyes darted between the blinking screen and their apparent destination in the distance. He made a quick decision then, one he knew she would never forgive him for. It had already been hard to convince his wife to accompany him on this trip, what were to follow next was something he was sure would result in the biggest fight of their lives, but in the moment he had no choice.

“Honey, I will need to flat-hat this plane, okay?” he continued, his voice quivering slightly over the sounds of the engines.

“what? flap-what? What are you talking about?” she shouted back, one hand holding down onto the helmet as she squinted through those thick aviator goggles at the man sitting in front of her.

“flat- never mind, just don’t panic”.

Luckily for him he couldn’t hear the series of profanities she was belting out to him when he said that.

Beautiful Mystery

Today's word of the day is....

poltroon
noun pahl-TROON

Definition
1 : a spiritless coward : craven
Check A/A
The devil doesn't come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns.
He comes dressed as everything you have wished for.
O2//A2//Request//Boudoir

corvusul86

The rain didn't let up for a moment, pouring from the sky like an endless river to soak the land below.  Despite the trees providing some protection from the weather, Anna had long ago taken on the appearance of a drowned rat, her limp brown hair soaked dark and constantly pressing to her face in small clumps.  A few tumbles over slippery roots into patches of mud had ensured that her hands, and by extension her face had become just as filthy as her jeans and sweatshirt.  All in all, the college cheerleader was far from looking her best.

"You don't have to do this," the faerie hovering by her side pleaded desperately.  "Please, can't you just rethink this?"

"I have," Anna snapped.  "I've thought it through again and again and again!  And you know what?  I'm through thinking this through, Mera!"

"But- but what about the good times?" Mera asked desperately, her iridescent gown gleaming even in the dim light the forest and rain let through.  "Remember?"

"I do remember," Anna said, her voice strained.  "You were the first friend I ever had.  If it weren't for you I never would've gotten the nerve to meet anyone else.  I'd still be that little girl all alone in the cafeteria I was in grade school."

"I was there every step of the way," Mera crooned.  "I was your first friend, and I helped you meet other people.  I helped you when your parents divorced.  I was there when you met your first crush... when you went on your first date.  I taught you how to dance.  You're at college on a cheerleading scholarship because I taught you how!  I'm your best friend!"

"And I'm the only one that can see you!" Anna finally screamed, facing the faerie for the first time.  "You're invisible to anyone but me!"

"Because I'm your friend!" Mera answered.

"No, because of this doll my grandma made me when I was born!" Anna shouted back, waving the porcelain doll wildly.  "She used some kind of magic something or other before I was even born, that's why I can see faeries!  That's why I've always been a freak!  Why everyone laughs at me, calls me crazy!  Why I never had any friends!  And it's already happening again.  They don't want a crazy girl in the sorority.  Why would they!?"

"They just don't see how amazing you really are," Mera said.  "If they think you're crazy then- then they're the crazy ones!  Besides, isn't it rude to say crazy now?  I thought I saw-"

"No, I'm not arguing with you anymore," Anna said as she finally entered the clearing she'd been looking for.  Pulling out a small shovel, she started to dig into the muddy loam.

"Please don't do this," Mera said.  "You're my best friend, too!  If you can't see me anymore, then I'll be all alone!"

"I'm sorry," Anna said.  "I really am... but I finally have a chance to be normal.  To date someone who doesn't break up with me after a week for having an imaginary friend.  I'm going to get into a sorority, and make friends, and have a real life.  A normal life."

"You're a poltroon," Mera spat.  "I never thought you'd be this... this weak!  Please, please don't do this."

"I'm sorry," Anna said, placing the doll in the hole she'd dug.  "This is what I have to do."

"No, it isn't," Mera pleaded.  "Please, please don't leave me all alone!"

"Goodbye," Anna whispered, covering the doll with mud.

Shores

“Don’t be a poltroon! Get up that crow’s nest you buffoon!” The Captain encouraged the new recruit.

I stood there, staring up at the structure swaying slightly with the waves. Even for someone unafraid of heights like me, it had taken considerable courage to climb up. How was he going to do it?

ZephyrInk

“They were poltroons, buffoons, imbeciles to think she would spare them” the king bellowed. It was usual nowadays for him to throw a tantrum; yes a tantrum is what his daughter called it. The men were strong and valiant despite what he thought. The fact that there had been a surprise ambush didn’t make the sacrifices they had made so far any less commendable and certainly nothing to call them cowards over.

“It happens papa” she replied, gathering her gown as she made her way over to his side, “they were captured yes, but we can still negotiate their release. No shame in that”

The king let out a chuckle at her naivety as he turned around, “oh my darling, you have much to learn about ruling a kingdom” he sighed and rubbed his forehead with one hand where thick creases had formed, showing signs of old age and exhaustion while he patted her cheek lightly with the other, “Your old man seems to be losing his touch, my princess” With a visible frown, he got up and left the grand hall, leaving the girl sitting alone to ponder over his words.

Beautiful Mystery

Today's word of the day is....

ludic
adjective LOO-dik

Definition
1 : of, relating to, or characterized by play : playful
Check A/A
The devil doesn't come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns.
He comes dressed as everything you have wished for.
O2//A2//Request//Boudoir

corvusul86

I tried to ignore them -- everyone does.  People who don't are the ones who disappear.  Of course, no one says anything about it -- mentioning them means you've noticed them, and it's not safe to notice them.

Some days it was harder than others.  Today I was running a little late to work -- running a register at a 7/11 wasn't exactly a career, but it'd been my job since I graduated college.  Given the economy at the time I was lucky to get it, and after a couple of years you get used to things.  People can get used to anything, even shadowy monsters stalking them all the time.

That's what they did.  Stalked us.  They were always there, hovering in the alleys and on rooftops, sneaking in our homes, and hiding under our beds.  No one was really sure what they actually looked like; we saw them out of the corner of our eyes constantly of course, but a real, serious look was impossible.  Looking means you notice them, and people who notice them disappear.

Today, though.  Today was a bad day.  The shadowy things were particularly ludic today, constantly trying to get our attention.  They would reach out a half seen limb right in front of people's feet, tripping them up, or gambol and cavort at the corner of the eye, trying to trick us into looking at them.  It didn't usually work; no matter how eye catching the gimmick, the only people still left on earth after they came six years ago were the people who were able to ignore them.

Sometimes it did, though.  Maybe the woman in front of me was having a bad day.  Maybe it was a mistake.  Maybe she'd decided to end it all, but regardless of what caused it, she looked right at one of them.  And then she screamed.  And screamed.  And screamed.  And then she was gone, pulled onto the roof with nothing but her purse falling and her receding wail to indicate she was ever there.

No one on the street reacted, save a few soft hearted people's flinches.  No one looked.  No one spoke.

It was amazing what you can get used to.

Shores

The farm was ludic with it's unending corn mazes, it's haunted house barn, and it's baby animals petting zoo. My son attached himself to the candy-cane coloured lamppost and wouldn't leave until I promised him to get fried chicken on the way home. Despite just playing with a baby chick, he devoured the greasy wings with much relish.

Beautiful Mystery

Today's word of the day is....

terpitude
noun TER-puh-tood

Definition
1 : inherent baseness : depravity; also : a base act
Check A/A
The devil doesn't come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns.
He comes dressed as everything you have wished for.
O2//A2//Request//Boudoir

corvusul86

"I did not see this coming," Mark said quietly.

"Yeah," Sarah said, her voice distant with shock.

Many changes had occurred to the world when the vampires had become public.  There were of course moral panics, desperate fear, and more than few atrocities.  Old laws had needed to be updated to deal with the living dead, and the stock market almost crashed from the uncertainty.  In the end, however, the world had kept spinning, and most people's day to day lives hadn't really changed much.  Most of the paperwork involved hadn't actually taken that long to sort out, as it was surprisingly easy for a collection of rich, old, pale Europeans to gain U.S. citizenship, and many flocked to the country from all over the world for a chance at freedom and legal standing.

One group that had not adopted such a laissez-faire attitude to the situation had been organized Christianity.  In America preachers had railed against the sinful ways of the devilish undead, and the fact that crosses actually repelled them had not calmed the situation down any.  Initial violence had ended with nothing but air tight self defense cases by full vampires, but eventually plans involving blessed Super Soakers had leveled the playing field a bit.  Before long donated crosses designed to burn easily were a common method of vampiric murder across the south of the United States.

"I was half joking when I said they could fine common ground," Mark said quietly.  "I didn't think... how could this... how?"

The stage on which the leaders of the American vampire community had met with a coalition of Christian leaders to try to reach some kind of peaceful understanding had slowly transitioned over the course of the afternoon into something that now resembled a campaign rally rather than the angry ceasefire negotiations of that morning.

"Indeed, my esteemed colleague, the moral turpitude of so called 'liberalism' is responsible for the state of the world today," the ancient vampire said, shaking his head sadly.  "In my day, people listened to their elders, and while I myself may not have held great esteem for the Catholic church -- which hardly seems different from many of those gathered here today, I'll add -- people once respected the ways and rules of the Bible.  But in this day and age, men lay with men, and women with women, and the unmarried cohabitate, and everywhere they can legally miscegenate..."

The preacher nodded enthusiastically.  "Indeed!  Together, our people can bring this country back to a golden age, of being that city on the hill!  We can roll back the civil unrights of political correctness, and the misguided culture that taints the youth of today with Satan's sinful message!"

The vampire smiles, revealing his fangs fully.  "Yes.  It is a sad state of affairs to watch the world crumble and decay before one's very eyes, unable to stop it.  In the good old days, those of Moorish persuasion could simply be-"

"We're doomed, aren't we," Sarah said, looking at her fellow peace conference organizer, who was standing beside her at the back of the crowd.  "I guess... we forgot vampires are mostly just a bunch of rich old assholes.  I mean, I'm not sure I've even heard some of the slurs they were using before..."

"I think some of those words were older than modern english," Mark agreed.  "But look, it's just one conference.  I'm sure it'll all blow over.  Somebody will do something to piss someone off, and they'll be right back to killing each other in private.  I mean, there's no way this'll lead to anything... who'd be crazy enough to vote for a racist, misogynist asshole like that?"

"Yeah you're probably right," Sarah agreed, relaxing slightly.

In front of them one of the people in the audience pulled out his cellphone and placed a call.  "Hey man, I'm here at the vampire thing, an' it's great!  This vampire leader guy, Dracu-somethin', he really tells it like it is!  He was sayin' somethin' earlier about how he'd deal with Muslims if he was in charge -- you shoulda heard it!"

Mark and Sarah exchanged a long, long look, before Sarah interrupted the horrified stupor they'd fallen back into.

"Is this... is this what going crazy feels like?"

Shores

Tossing the kittens into the storm drain was a crime of moral terpitude. You could hardly blame her when she tossed him into the storm drain for what he had done.

ZephyrInk

#289
They had been waiting for the signal. It had been two hours since the call yet nothing. One of the two masked men nervously paced around the room much to the chagrin of the other, who was relatively calm and was humming away while he stared at the vault.

The song was irritating, the tall one thought and he immediately stopped pacing, turning to his partner, "will you stop it!" he hissed and the man simply shrugged.

"How else am I supposed to pass the time in the room of this vile man. Did you not read the papers?" here he raised his hands to make a quoted gesture, "acts of moral turpitude they called it" but his partner seemed uninterested, his arms crossed over his chest, "Do you even know what that word means Marcus?"

"something to do with turpentine - I am telling you, this business of his is shady"

There was a loud huff and if they hadn't been wearing masks, the man could have seen the other rolling his eyes at him, "Stop talking. I forbid you". Naturally that must have amused the shorter one even more for he continuously belted out another familiar tune. 

whack! silence and then the cell phone rang. 

Beguile's Mistress

She glared at him, the look in her eyes so hard, so filled with fury that he was sure he was either going to be turned to stone or burned to a cinder.

"What the hell were you thinking?" she ground out between clenched teeth.  "How could you have possibly thought you could get away with something like that?"

He had always been more concerned about his own feelings than anything else.  His life had been hard.  He tried to live with who and what he was and she gave him credit for having the courage to be himself.  Still, he wasn't the only one who had problems or desires and needs.  If he'd only look a little bit beyond the nose on his face maybe he would realize that sharing would get him some of the understanding he needed.

"You've let yourself become bitter and that bitterness has led you to act with utter turpitude toward everyone, even those who care about you!" 

She flung herself away from him and stormed toward the door, resting her hand on the latch before pushing it down. 

"I can't believe you turned your back on your best friend without even talking to him about what happened, or giving him a chance to explain."

Waiting for some word from him, something she could take as justification for his behavior kept her on the threshhold for another moment, but when he volunteered nothing she left. 


Blythe

Today's word of the day is....

bosky
adjective BAH-skee

Definition
1 : having abundant trees or shrubs
2 : of or relating to a woods

corvusul86

"Which way?" the ranger growled impatiently.

"Up the hills o'er yonder," the farmer said, pointing vaguely into the distance.

"That doesn't really tell us much," he said, crossing his arms.  "The beast has been praying on your flock, don't you think giving us good directions could help?"

"Aren't you a ranger, son?" the grizzled farmer asked.  "I shoulda been thinkin' that you'd know yerself 'bout findin' tracks."

"He's got you there, Killian," Sera, his witch partner, snickered.

Killian growled again, annoyed that once again no one took him seriously.  It just didn't pay to be a halfling ranger in human territory.  "Shut.  Up.  It's a wyvern.  You called us out to hunt down a wyvern that's been stealing your sheep.  A flying wyvern.  I'm not sure how you expect me to track it, since it may have slipped your notice, but wyverns fly!"

"Aye, that they do," the farmer agreed thoughtfully.  He squinted for a moment, before pointing into the distance.  "You see that there hill?  The bosky one?"

"Yeah," Killian agreed, standing up in the stirrups of his dog steed.  "The one next to the one with the rock slopes?"

"Aye," the farmer said.  "Take the path 'twixt the two, an' fore you know it yer on yer way.  Just follow the trail thereabouts that climbs up a ways, an' you'll find yerself on another hill, this one rather bosky up the way, but bare at the top like a gaffer's head.  The beast makes it's nest in that bare spot.  They say it's poison does that to the hill, but I wouldn't know 'bout that."

"Thank you," the halfling said, sighing in relief.  "Come on, Sera.  We've got wyverns to hunt."

They rode away, the panting of trotting dog mount accompanied by the clopping of horse hooves, before Sera broke the silence.  "So what exactly does 'bosky' mean?"

"Haven't a clue," Killian said with a shrug.  "I just looked where he was pointing."

tarasalem

"What are you doing in a bosky area like this?" The voice sounded out from behind the young man. He had been scouting the outside of the manor in the middle of these woods for the past several minutes, trying to detect if the owner was home or not. Now he seemed to have his answer.

He slowly turned to take in the owner of the feminine voice. It was a pretty young lady with long curly brown hair falling to her waist. She had a slender eyebrow quirked upwards and a mischievous smile on her lips. The man slowly stood up from his crouched position behind the bush and laughed nervously. "Bosky? What the hell does that mean?" He cautiously asked.

Her smile brightened. "It means you shouldn't be here. Now I'll repeat: What are you doing?"

The man shifted uncomfortably. "Uh... I don't suppose you're the owner?"

"And I don't suppose you're a thief?" The woman looked him up and down, her leisurely smile turning into something almost... Sinister.

The man, his identity now revealed, gave her a handsome smile, only for it to drop, and he ran in the next instant like the cowardly thief he was. He was so sure he could make it out without any more than a few curses flung his way by a flustered owner, but it seemed that this time he had chosen the wrong house to rob. For in the very next moment, the woman was in front of him, her smile so wide that it went from beautiful to just plain terrifying. The worst part of all were those long, sharp canines.

"You didn't really think you'd be leaving here alive, did you?" She purred, and with that, she pounced.

Dys Astyr

#294
There was no darker bosky in Spamopia than the aptly named Ominously Foreboding Forest. There was a ghost of a road that meandered through the trees, but most chose the slightly longer and much better maintained road that skirted the the shadowed wood entirely. Bhyst would have dearly liked to have been one of those people, but unfortunately boots didn't repair themselves and coins didn't grow on trees. So here she was, following a mumbling mage that had offered her good coin to escort him through the forest. The pay was decent, and unfortunately she was far too honest to pocket the money and run.

So yes, here she was in freshly repaired boots, following what she had been assured was a path, as marked on a nearly illegible scrap of parchment the mage had briefly waved in her face. The dense canopy above all but completely blocked out the light of the twin suns, a fact that only added to the itch that something was about to go wrong.

The quiet tugged at her ears, and she looked around only to notice that her employer, who had been muttering constantly since they departed the city had vanished. How had she not noticed that? Fates be damned, this is why she hated working with magic users.

No sooner had the thought passed through her mind than the ground fell away beneath her feet and she was plunged into darkness. Darkness that rather smelled of buttered tarts...
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Shores

She pushed the husky rusky up the bosky hill with the butt of her rifle. She was still rusty at long marches, but she wasn't going to let him get too cosy while she was busy. They winded around the trees, through the snow, against the bitter cold winds until they were finally outside the small cafe. The borscht they had afterwards was incredible.

ZephyrInk

#296
The location of the house was shrouded in mystery. There were rumors that it was situated near the bosky side of the town while many others had argued that the owner had sold it many years ago, only to now live somewhere deep in the city. Either way, the couple that now drove down the highway, eager to see the house they had just bought would find out the truth - and what was the truth?


Blythe

Today's word of the day is....

assay
verb a-SAY

Definition
1a :  to analyze (something, such as an ore) for one or more specific components
1b : to judge the worth of : estimate
2 : try, attempt
3 : to prove to be of a particular nature by means of analysis

corvusul86

"How's it looking?"

She pulled her eyes away from the stars at the words.  It was difficult at times to look at anything else; without an atmosphere stars didn't twinkle, but the lack of interference meant that she could make out so many, many more than she could even on the darkest night on earth.  It was simply an amazing sight.

The asteroid she was floating by before she got lost in the view was, to the casual observer, no different than any other.  After getting some anomalous readings with her equipment she'd spent some time taking samples of it, and checking her pack she saw that, in fact, her tools had finished their analysis.  "You know how long it takes to assay one of the rocks, eagle seven."

"Yeah, and I also know how long without talking you can go on a spacewalk without getting lost in the stars, Mary.  Did you find anything, or do you want to wait until your air runs low?"

Mary smiled slightly.  "I'm not that bad, Jim.  As a matter of fact, I've finished my field work on this one.  Better call Houston -- I'm getting some interesting samples off it."

"Something worth popping the champaign early back home over?" Jim asked.

"I dunno, eagle seven," Mary asked teasingly.  "How much do you think they'd like a hunk of platinum the size of an elephant?"

Cheers erupted over her radio, revealing the rest of the crew were sitting close by the cockpit.  Mary just grinned and looked out at the stars again; she had some time before they'd bother to force her back inside after that news, and she intended to take full advantage of it.

Shores

His assay of the new slave was a long and tedious one. Checking her vitals, drawing blood, stool, and even a skin sample. Everything was to be looked over to make sure she wouldn't bring any diseases into the sanctum. Finally, she was cleared, and he brought her to the large vault door, keying in his passcode and then bringing her in. They had a new family member tonight and the celebrations would soon begin.