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Word of the Day Challenge

Started by Britwitch, December 16, 2018, 10:59:34 AM

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Britwitch

Hail and be welcome! Once again, Elliquiy bring you an entertainment that will hopefully test your creativity, add to your vocabulary, and bring joy to your hearts! From the same team that has brought you Picture of the Week, Forgotten Words, Caravanserai, and Holiday 365 comes the latest in writing challenges:



Yes, Word of the Day, where the mentors present you with a word that has been pulled from Merriam-Webster.com and challenge YOU (yes, you, the person reading this) to write something up using that word. Sounds simple enough, eh? Just a little something for you to do while waiting to see if you're approved (although approved members are encouraged to play along, too!!)


BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE!

Each week, there'll be a little random theme added on: horror, romance, poems, fantasy, slice of life, etcetera... If you feel like having an extra element to your piece, you can try to make sure that whatever you write is focused on that weekly theme! When you have posted a submission three times, you get a shiny new badge that you can put in your signature line, post in your Ons & Offs thread as a trophy, or completely ignore! Whatever you'd like! (Pending approval if you're not already approved, of course.)


HOLD ON... WHAT'S A BADGE??

Ah, an excellent question! You see, here at Elliquiy, there are a number of challenges and contests scattered all throughout the various boards. Some are run by the staff, some by mentors, some by members that are already approved. Often (but not always), if you complete a challenge, you will be awarded a small badge or icon. You can then post this badge somewhere to let others know of your prowess with the written word as well as your interests. Badges are optional treats, if you will. Some folks like to collect them, some don't. But if you're just starting off and looking for partners, it's a good way to let potential partners know that you are an involved and active writer!

Badges are awarded at 3 Posts; 25 Posts; 50 Posts and 100 Posts - All post counts will reset at the first of each year!


PATRONS OF THE STORYTELLER'S CAFÉ...

I can announce that you'll earn 5 points for every piece you post over here in the WotD thread.
All you need to do is mention somewhere in your post that you're a café patron (by adding this badge at the bottom of your post perhaps) and I will make sure the points are tallied. ;D



[url=https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?board=398.0][img]https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/9/94/Cafeicon.png[/img][/url]



NOW, ON TO THE RULES!

Yes, there are rules, although they are mercifully few.

~All content must be PG-13. Sorry, no exceptions.
~No plagiarizing: any submissions have to be original.
~No posting the Word of the Day on your own. Staff only, please (and yes, there are reasons for this.)
~Submissions are to be posted in the Word of the Day thread itself
~Discussion and general chatter should be in the appropriate discussion thread.
~Participation is open to all, approved or otherwise.
~Words must be used from this Word of the Day thread


WHO DO YOU TALK TO IF SOMETHING SEEMS AMISS???

Just leave a message in the discussion thread (link below.) This challenge's purpose is for everyone to have fun and enjoy themselves, and as such, it is bound to the general rules of Elliquiy for the safety and entertainment of everyone!

(Link To The Discussion Thread)

Current status : Selectively seeking new stories

Hob

Today's Word of the Day is....


handsel
noun HAN-sul

Definition
1 : a gift made as a token of good wishes or luck especially at the beginning of a new year

2 : something received first (as in a day of trading) and taken to be a token of good luck

3 a : a first installment

b : a token or sample of what is to come : earnest, foretaste


Weekly Theme
Fantasy


Did You Know?
According to an old custom in the British Isles, the first Monday of the New Year is Handsel Monday, a day to give a small gift or good luck charm to children or to those who have served you well. As long ago as the 13th century, English speakers were using the ancestor of handsel in the context of omens and luck, eventually leading to the meaning of a good luck charm given to one at the start of some new situation or condition. By the 18th century, traders were using handsel for the first cash they earned in the morning—to them, an omen of good things to follow. Nowadays, it can also be used for something that gives a taste of things to come.

The Green One

#2
The warrior stood at the mouth of a foul cave, home to a creature of nightmare that terrorized the kingdom for far too long. It was time to end this. The valiant man searched into a small leather pouch, retrieving a pearly white thimble. The handsel looked tiny in his leather-gloved hand, and he held it tight. The love of his life gave it to him long ago, when he left his hometown to gain renown. He smiled sadly, putting the little treasure away and unsheathed his sword and took a deep breath.

With a step forward, the champion's breathing became shallow with the disgusting fumes exalated from the monstrous being that had taken the root of the mountain as its own. With the heavy bastard sword in his hands, the man moved on, eyes slowly adjusting to the swallowing dark. There was a viscous sound that seemed to surround him as he ventured deeper into the rock palace. His feet slipped, and he struggled to maintain his balance, stomping with heavy boots, that odd feeling you get when you crush an insect crawled up his legs and spine. A thing swayed between his feet and disappeared before a deep gurgling filled the place, causing the stalactites to tremble above his head. The sound was getting closer, the cloud of toxic air wrapped him, and the shape of the monster became clearer in front of his eyes.

A swift tentacle swung across the hall and hit the unready contender, another shut from the darkness and tied itself around the man's body. He couldn't move. His weapon lost. Closing his eyes he smiled, the one hand he could still move reached into the pouch and grasped tight, before he was engulfed by utter dark.

tallied! -Brit

Not available for new stories

Locust


The forge across the street seemed to have new help, the boy from the ocean was focused on his work and often ran out to run errands.  She smiled as she brushed out the entryway to her new venture, "A Splash of Color".  The forty three year old human woman stepped out to the street and looked up at the brightly colored sign, which she had painted herself, her hands clasped in excitement as she started to tear it, "It's finally here, this is our day."

Our day.  Her husband had passed away in the night just over a year ago, the cause seemed to be natural.

She reflected for a moment and then walked back inside, putting on her apron and looking at the shop.  Art and writing supplies lined the shelves.  Parchment was available by the sheet, ready for thoughts and feeling to be written on, or perhaps artwork to be gifted to a loved one.  Her husband had always been great at connecting with merchants and had helped with a variety of inventory.  Leather brush and supply carrying bags and cases from the nearby cattle based communities where leather crafting was prominent.  Brushes with granite powder engravings, she had received those from a small community near the quarry.

Gabrielle shook her head with the biggest smile on her face, her stray braids not in the messy bun atop her head clicked when the beads hit each other.  "We'll bring some color to this town, I just know we will."

After making sure everything was perfect she sat behind the counter and continued working on a sketch of her late husband.  When it came time to really capture the glimmer in his eyes, she used a special brush that her husband had given her, with hearts etched into it lined with gold.  He had given it to her when they started talking about opening this store, an affectionate handsel, in hopes that she would think of him always when doing what she loved.  She drew him often, once she had even sealed a sketch of him along with a love note into a bottle, topped with candle wax, and tasked a sailor with throwing it into the ocean.

If there was one thing she wanted to accomplish with this venture, it would be to honor her late husband by passing along the gifts of life and art to her customers.

ZeroVin

(This looks super long, but I swear a lot of it is just dialogue...)

James hadn’t seen grandma in a long time. Over a decade had passed since he’d last visited her with his family and discovered that the sweet old lady had lost her cookies and developed a taste for children instead. She’d made attempts to contact them over the years, but never had they reached back out to her. Witches had a bad reputation as it was, and the family had no intention of maintaining ties to a witch who only reinforced stereotypes.

After that whole chaotic event, Sophia had been born. She’d never met grandma and, now a stubborn teenager, claimed that she had the right to do so. Apparently informing her of the horrific things the old woman had done did nothing to deter her from wanting to see the old hag. She would not be reasoned with, and while their parents refused to go, they could do little to stop Sophia from doing the same. Sophia had learned teleportation spells when she was ten, after all.

As the responsible older brother, James regrettably decided to go along with Sophia to attend the dinner invitation grandma had sent. So, on the first day of the new year, he met with his sister outside the front of the house.

“I made rolls to bring. Do you thinks grandma will like them?” Sophia asked merrily, flashing him her basket of said rolls.

James barely cast them a glance. “Depends, did you use the actual flesh of children as an ingredient?”

Sophia huffed, puffing her cheeks out as she always did when annoyed. “You guys need to learn to forgive and forget.”

Some things could be neither forgiven nor forgotten. But James copied her nonetheless as she prepared to teleport, quietly chanting the words to the spell. A green mist surrounded their figures, swirling faster and faster and thicker and thicker until their surroundings became completely obscured. Then all at once it vanished, as if a gale had swept through at that very instant.

James assessed their new surroundings, very faintly recognizing the words they now stood in. Above all, he recognized the life-size gingerbread house that had once struck him with child-like joy but now made his gut clench. He had a bad feeling about this.

Sophia clearly didn’t share it as she marched up the wafer steps and knocked on the gingerbread door. Begrudgingly, James followed, though he remained behind his sister.

When the door opened, a very old lady answered, though she looked no older than James remembered. Her nose remained crooked with a disgusting wart on the end of it, and her smile showed the absence of a few too many teeth. Maybe she needed a healthier diet aside from children and candy.

“My grandchildren, how happy I am to see you!” she greeted in a screeching voice that made James wince. It had the opposite effect on Sophia who beamed and went in to hug the woman before stepping inside. James managed to dodge inside without making contact.

Immediately, he took in the home that really had only three rooms and a basement. Last time cages holding children had adorned the living room, but now he saw nothing but normal furniture. Though that wasn’t to say she could have them elsewhere.

“Did you decide to give up on harming innocent children?” he asked, facing his grandmother.

She smiled back sweetly. “You don’t need to worry yourself over that.”

Sophia gave James a look that said ‘I told you so,’ before proceeding to show off her rolls to their grandma who cooed over them. James remained unconvinced. After all, that hadn’t been a ‘no.’

Not long later the siblings found themselves seated at a small table while grandma finished preparing the stew she’d made for them. “So,” Sophia asked, bright as ever, “what’s the special occasion you invited us over for?”

“Oh, nothing much. I just wanted to give you a handsel in the form of food to celebrate James’ graduation from college. I’m very proud of you, my boy.” Then the old lady had the audacity to wink at him. James didn’t know what was worse, the wink, the “my boy,” or the fact that she knew he’d just graduated a few weeks ago. Nevertheless, he said nothing.

Sophia rocked in her chair in excitement as grandma began serving them, taking no time before she began digging into her bowl of stew.

James exhibited more caution. “What is this?” he demanded to know.

“I call it ‘Handsel Hansel,’” grandma replied with a wrinkly smile.

“What’s ‘Hansel?’” James inquired with a frown, guessing it had to be a witchy herb of some sort.

“A chef never reveals her secrets.” Grandma’s sneaky laugh did nothing to ease his concerns. However, when she dished herself a bowl from the same pot, he reluctantly began to eat as well.

A few hours later after the surprisingly tasty meal and pleasant chatter, the siblings began migrating toward the door to leave. While nothing seemed amiss, James continued to feel uneasy. His bladder certainly felt the pressure.

He excused himself to use the restroom and opened one of the two doors. Having a fifty-fifty shot of finding the bathroom, he of course picked the wrong one and spotted a bedroom inside. However, before closing the door, he couldn’t help but notice pictures of children, a boy and a girl, hanging on the wall. A glance back at his sister and grandma proved they were still conversing, so he slipped inside and quietly shut the door.

Approaching the pictures, he at first wondered if they were of grandma’s children, only his father had never had a sister. Evidently, grandma had had these kids for a long time based on the fact that the images showed the two growing older. The girl disappeared at one point, making him frown and wonder if he’d had an aunt at some point. What bothered him more was how tired and beaten down the children looked.

At the last picture of the boy, he stopped and examined it carefully. He certainly didn’t look like James’ father. On a whim, James pulled the picture off the wall and took the frame off, setting it on the bed. With only the picture in hand, he flipped it over and made out some scrawly cursive writing:

Hansel, last picture, age 23.

That alone had James’ heart racing as he recalled grandma’s name for their dinner. The frame and picture fell from his hands with a clatter when he saw that the picture was dated the day before.

Hob

Today's Word of the Day is....


campestral
adjective kam-PESS-trul

Definition
1 : of or relating to fields or open country : rural


Weekly Theme
Fantasy


Did You Know?
Scamper across an open field, and then, while catching your breath, ponder this: scamper and campestral both ultimately derive from the Latin noun campus, meaning "field" or "plain." Latin campester is the adjective that means "pertaining to a campus." In ancient Rome, a campus was a place for games, athletic practice, and military drills. Scamper probably started with a military association as well (it is assumed to have evolved from an unattested Vulgar Latin verb, excampare, meaning "to decamp"). In English, campestral took on an exclusively rural aspect upon its introduction in the late 17th century, while campus, you might say, became mainly academic.

The Green One

#6
A harras of unicorns graces across the campestral area of the elven kingdom, watched closely by the queen's guard. The beautiful beings are precious to the elves, their magic venerated, their lives hold highest than any other. Unicorns are not to be tamed; they belong in the wild to rule themselves and to bless the elves with their presence.

tallied! -Brit

Not available for new stories

ZeroVin

The campestral area the elves were now to call home felt vast and intimidating in comparison with the forest they preferred. The rolling fields offered little protection and left them with few trees from which to construct their bows and arrows. And they would need their weapons. This open space with its lack of shelter would never be home to the elves. Because of that, they had no choice but to ready their weapons and hearts for battle against the barbaric orcs. They would reclaim their forest or die trying.

Locust

"Just imagine it, we don't need to flee any further west, we can build our strong hold right here."

Jorich's gloved hand swept an imaginary line across the campestral area while presenting to his captains.  Their army had been fighting back the forces of the Dark King in a stalemate, until recently when they lost their foothold in the mountains just east of here.

"We'll hold ground here and build a strong hold to rally our forces in and turn the tide."

It almost seemed decided, the captains one by one began nodding.

Britwitch

Today's Word of the Day is....


rapporteur
noun ra-por-TER

Definition
1 : a person who gives reports (as at a meeting of a learned society)


Weekly Theme
Fantasy


Did You Know?
Rapporteur was adopted into English in the 16th century and is a descendant of the Middle French verb rapporter, meaning "to bring back, report, or refer." Other descendants of rapporter in English include rapportage (a rare synonym of reportage, in the sense of "writing intended to give an account of observed or documented events") and rapport ("a harmonious relationship," as in "The young teacher had a good rapport with the students"). The words report, reporter, reportage, etc., are also distant relatives of rapporteur; all can ultimately be traced back to the Latin prefix re-, meaning "back, again, or against," and the Latin word portare, meaning "to carry."

Current status : Selectively seeking new stories

The Green One

#10
The court had gathered, waiting for the rapporteur to arrive and give his report about reporting.

tallied! -Brit

Not available for new stories

ZeroVin

Vincent had always enjoyed his court work. However, his mind belonged to the creative whims of writers from here and there and everywhere. How he'd longed to find himself lost in one of those fantasy worlds, surrounded by elves and orcs and nymphs and anything else.

Well, he'd gotten his wish. Now when he arrived at work, the rapporteur had the pleasure of finding the room surrounded with more humanoid species than he could name. If only he'd added onto his wish and asked for a slightly more enrapturing career area...

Locust

"You do realize we could just as well send an encrypted email to the New New Hampshire colony, right?"  Sabrina's voice, as always, came across very dry and annoyed.

Duncan shrugged.  "I wanted to keep this offline, my birds have constantly made the flight and I'm sure they'll do so again."

His words trailed off as he tied the message to the left leg of each of the five birds.  His flock served as an analog rapporteur solution, bringing information to neighboring colonies while preventing any sort of hacking of encrypted messages. 

Britwitch

Today's Word of the Day is....


abominable
adjective uh-BAH-muh-nuh-bul

Definition
1 formal : worthy of or causing disgust or hatred : detestable

2 : very bad or unpleasant

Weekly Theme
Fantasy


Did You Know?
The tendency to hate evil omens is a vital part of the history of abominable. The word descends from the Latin verb abominari, which means "to deprecate as an ill omen" or "to detest"; abominari itself comes from ab- plus omin- ("from an omen"). When English speakers adopted abominable in the 14th century, they used it to express their disgust over evil or truly detestable things—and for 500 years that's the way things stood. In the 17th century, the word's meaning moderated, so that Scottish novelist William Black could write in A Princess of Thule (1873), "Sheila had nothing to do with the introduction of this abominable decoration." Other descendants of abominari are abominate ("to hate or loathe intensely") and abomination ("something odious or detestable").

Current status : Selectively seeking new stories

The Green One

#14
From the deepest hole on Earth, a shadow crept its way out to the surface, a creature made of pitch black mud and pure terror. It seemed to feed off light, growing bigger as it crawled and dragged its abominable shape closer to the exterior. The air turned foul around it, whatever life was nearby ended, or fell into madness.

tallied! -Brit

Not available for new stories

Kye

She watched from the far corner of the room as the body writhed in the middle of the bed.  It was an abominable sight, the way the body twisted and contorted itself into shapes that appeared anything but human. 

Hob

Today's Word of the Day is....


eclectic
adjective ih-KLEK-tik

Definition
1 : composed of elements drawn from various sources; also : heterogeneous

2 : selecting what appears to be best in various doctrines, methods, or styles



Weekly Theme
Fantasy


Did You Know?
Eclectic comes from the Greek eklektikos (meaning "selective"), from the verb eklegein, "to select." Eclectic was originally applied to ancient philosophers who were not committed to any single system of philosophy but instead selected whichever doctrines pleased them from every school of thought. Later, the word's use broadened to cover other selective natures. "Hard by, the central slab is thick with books / Diverse, but which the true eclectic mind / Knows how to group, and gather out of each / Their frequent wisdoms...." In this 19th century example from a poem by Arthur Joseph Munby, for example, the word is applied to literature lovers who cull selective works from libraries.

The Green One

#17
A knight stepped into the castle, admiring the eclectic architecture of the imposing building.

tallied! -Brit

Not available for new stories

Opprobrium

"Mom, I think you might be a pack rat."

Dust settled as more boxes were hauled off shelves and deposited on the garage floor. Each box was labeled in sharpie. Faded letters started at the top, often crossed out or drawn over entirely as boxes had been reused and repurposed throughout the years. By the time she scanned all the way to the bottom of the list a box could have transformed from housing for Christmas ornaments, to housing for books, knickknacks, and spare tape.

"A pack rat? What makes you say that, Karen?"

A stout woman popped up across the room from behind a tall stack of boxes and a broken down bookshelf. Her hair was blonde, but streaks of grey had started to overcome the honey color. Despite this change, she had a youthful air to her with bright eyes and clear skin. Her daughter pursed her lips, lifting one of the smaller boxes from her own pile, and gave it a visible shake.

The box let out a series of squeaks and chatters and a fine mist of glittering dust fell from small gaps in the seams of the cardboard corners.

"You boxed up the pixies? Really? What makes you think there won't be more in the garden at the new house? These ones like it here."

Her mother frowned and leaned forward against a dilapidated kitchen chair she had been using as a stepstool. The way her nose crinkled when she was thinking had always been endearing to Karen.

"I'm going to let them go now, Mom. We'll find you some new pixie friends. Okay?" she spoke softly and slowly, as if consoling a child over a change of plans, but her mother did not protest.

Instead, the woman sighed and nodded.

"Fine. Let them out by the pond, they like it there."

Karen nodded, satisfied, and scooped a box cutter off the workbench. "Don't go boxing up anything else living, please. You don't always have to be so eccentric."

Her mother huffed, "I'm not eccentric. I have ecclectic tastes."

Karen paused to look around the garage again. Between old lamps, boxes of clothes, they had packaged and pulled various occult artifacts from storage for this move. Tarot cards, bones, pendulums and even a variety of raw and polished crystals all sat nestled in bubble wrap beside cast iron skillets and her mother's favorite coffee mugs.

"Sure, mom. Why don't we just call it both."

Hob

Today's Word of the Day is....


paradigm
noun PAIR-uh-dyme

Definition

1 : example, pattern; especially: an outstandingly clear or typical example or archetype

2 : an example of a conjugation or declension showing a word in all its inflectional forms

3 : a philosophical and theoretical framework of a scientific school or discipline within which theories, laws, and generalizations and the experiments performed in support of them are formulated; broadly: a philosophical or theoretical framework of any kind


Weekly Theme
Horror

Did You Know?
Paradigm traces to a Greek verb meaning "to show," and has been used in English to mean "example" or "pattern" since the 15th century. Some debate exists, however, about what kind of example qualifies as a paradigm. Some people say it's a typical example, while others insist it must be an outstanding or perfect example. The scientific community has added to the confusion by using it to mean "a theoretical framework," a sense popularized by American scientist Thomas S. Kuhn in the second edition of his influential book The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, published in 1970. In that work, Kuhn admitted that he had used paradigm in 22 different ways. Some usage commentators now advise avoiding the term entirely on the grounds that it is overused.

The Green One

#20
Without even realizing, the group split in couples, following the paradigm of every horror movie they’ve seen and went on exploring the massive abandoned house. The rotting hardwood of the floor creaked beneath their feet, the old stairs cried with the cold of the night. Light was a rare commodity they could only enjoy while walking by a window as the inside of the house seemed to be filled only by a thick darkness and humid, bad smelling air.

tallied! -Brit

Not available for new stories

Daeva

Today's Word of the Day is....


demotic
adjective dih-MAH-tik

Definition

1 : of, relating to, or written in a simplified form of the ancient Egyptian hieratic writing

2 : of or relating to people and especially their speech : popular, common

3 : of or relating to the form of Modern Greek that is based on everyday speech


Weekly Theme
Horror

Did You Know?
You may recognize the root of demotic from words like democracy and demography. The source of these words is the Greek word dēmos, meaning "people." Demotic is often used of everyday forms of language (as opposed to literary or highbrow versions). It entered English in the early 1800s and originally designated a form of ancient Egyptian cursive script which by the 5th century BCE had come into use everywhere in Egypt for business and literary purposes (in contrast to the more complex, hieratic script retained by the clergy). Demotic has a newer specialized sense, as well, referring to a form of Modern Greek that is based on everyday speech and that since 1976 has been the official language of Greece.
Absences Updated 6/15/22 Selectively Accepting New Stories
Ons and Offs & Current Story List | Desired RP's

MrAlanNH

#22
Words of the Day: Jan 1 - Jan 5

handsel - campestral - rapporteur - abominable - eclectic
Theme: fantasy


Jenso gazed longingly through his office window onto the lush campestral landscape on display before him.  As much as he loved his cozy office, filled to overflowing with eclectic knick-knacks, bric-abrac, and momentoes from his far-flung travels.  As a Pathfinder, he only truly felt alive when traveling and exploring but his latest injury had him recuperating in the local chapterhouse.

With an agonized sigh, he dragged his gaze to the towering stack of journals, letters, and other correspondence sent in by other active Pathfinders.  Not an organization to waste resources, while Jenso was recovering in the chapterhouse he had been tasked as a rapporteur;  collating incoming information and presenting summarized reports to the Venture Captain and his aides.  Jenso had seen the room filled with the backlogged correspondence and knew the pile on his desk was just the handsel.

There was a sharp knock on the doorframe as Knaydle Quam, the impeccably dressed and coiffed gnome secretary to the Venture Captain, stepped into the room with a sour expression.  He sniffed dismissively as he looked about the space.

"By the gods, Jenso, the organization in here is abominable.  How ever do you find anything?" Waving away any repsonse that Jenso might have had, Knaydle continued, "Your first report is due in two days.  Be ready."  His tone indcating that he expected Jenso to be anything but. With a final sniff, he left the office haughtily, leaving Jenso to stare out the window in despair again.


Storyteller Cafe regular
tallied! -Brit

The Green One

#23
Using their phones as the only source of light, two boys from the group found the ladder leading down to the basement. Maybe it was the stolen beer running through their veins, or maybe one didn't want to look like a coward in front of the other, but at the same time, the bent down to open the hatch. One after the other, the young men slowly made their way down to the lower level of the house after they were sure the old wooden ladder wouldn't break under their weight. Giving one last glance up to the open hatch, they delved deeper into what seemed an extremely large chamber.

They walked to the right until they found the wall, and with the lights of their phones looked around to see if there was anything. The room seemed empty, although the portion of the wall they were able to see was painted from the floor to the ceiling. Looking closely, they saw it wasn't paint, but carvings on the wall. Of course, they couldn't recognize the demotic writing, but it made them even more curious about this place. Threading carefully in the dark, they followed the wall, fingers trailing down the carved lines along the old, grey stone.

From the far corner of the room, a screech and the sound of running feet echoed across the basement and faded as suddenly as it started. The boys squealed, not caring what the other thought and scrambled toward the ladder. This time, with their frantic struggle to escape the darkness and whatever was down there, the wood broke beneath their feet. They hit the ground with a thud and pained groans, and before they could even look up once more, the hatch was closed.

tallied! -Brit

Not available for new stories

tropicalyoshi

He took the job only because he needed the money. It wasn't like he was a big fan of history or anything, but he was registered to handle a gun, and the museum was hiring. Armed with a pistol, he had precious few bullets, but he didn't think he'd be using any at all with this job. What kind of nutcase breaks into a museum? All the stuff is either to heavy to carry, or to fragile to risk it, not to mention the place was locked up tighter than a bank vault. He started his rounds, he shone his flashlights on the exhibits. Massive dinosaurs the size of five men stacked on top of one another, ancient weapons and armor of warriors long passed. Then, in the back of his mind, he could hear something akin to running water. This wasn't a gentle trickle either, he thought to himself "What the hell? They didn't tell me about any leaks." He started to follow the sound, it got louder and louder, and the less it sounded like a leak and the more it sounded like a dam had burst in the middle of the museum!

He checked the bathrooms, and nothing, he checked the staff room, and nothing. Where was this noise coming from! It stretched and echoed all the way down each of the halls of the museum, and all he knew was that he was getting closer. He was approaching the back, this was where they kept newly delivered artifacts that they had yet to figure out how to display. Then all of a sudden, the monotonous clack of his boot on the tile has changed. It sounded like he had stepped in a puddle or something. He checked his shoe, but it was completely dry. He continued walking, splish splash splish splash, Like he was wading through one of the biggest rivers he had ever felt!

Finally, he opened the door the the storage area, and there on a pedestal of nearly pristine sandstone stood a vessel spilling over with water. It was adorned with all manner of jewels and adornments, but what stood out most of all, was the golden demotic lettering. He couldn't read it, but something in his mind got the message through well enough. "Vessel of Hapi, great provider of the Nile." The room appeared to be quickly filling with water and the guard quickly rushed over to the vessel not noticing that he himself was completely dry, and reached out to attempt to stop the flow. As soon as his fingers touched the vessel however, the water stopped, and he himself began to weep, and drool. If he so dared to stop the blessings of Hapi, he himself would receive them all.

The next morning, all they found left of the night guard was his shriveled up corpse, and a soaked through note that said "Do not touch the Vase..."