~ Word of the Day ~

[Blythe]

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

schadenfreude
Noun SHAH-dun-froy-duh

Definition
1 : enjoyment obtained from the troubles of others

[corvusul86]

I try to be a good person.

I mean, hey, super hero.  You don't put on a pair of tights and a domino mask and go fight crime because you don't care.  It's a dangerous job that pays nothing and you can't tell anyone about it.  Trust me, it's a terrible job.

But the city needed cleaning up, and I decided to answer the call.  Having been blessed with the power of ferret-kind helped quite a bit... what, why did you think I'm called the Mink?  I almost died on an abandoned mink farm, and when I woke up I could channel all of the supernatural abilities of ferrets, minks, weasels, otters... basically, everything from the Mustelidae family of animals.  So, you know, ferret-kind.

Anyway, I try to be a good person, and part of that is having empathy.  But no matter how many superpowers you might have -- and believe me, ferret-kind offers all kinds of great powers -- at the end of the day you're just a normal gal under the mask.  And just like everyone else, I find some people nice, and I find some people annoying.

That's why I couldn't contain the thrill of pleasure schadenfreude gave me when I saw my old high school boyfriend handcuffed by the police.  Apparently I'd cold cocked him unconscious during the bank robbery, just like I should've when I caught him making out with the girl who bullied me in high school.  If I'd known it was him I would've hit him even harder, but since it looked like he had at least one tooth knocked out, it was probably for the best that I didn't know.

Still, it was damn funny watching the cheating bastard take a perp walk.

And yeah, call me petty if you want, but that's one newspaper clearing I'm putting on the Villain Board.

[Shores]

The puppy sniffed the dirty puddle, and the boy took the opportunity to kick it. He laughed as the puppy splashed in face-first. Some of the water flew into his mouth and he started coughing hard. It was sweet, sweet schadenfreude.

[AzureSpark]

Ameliorate - make (something bad or unsatisfactory) better.

[/b]

The factors that brought him here were numerous. He didn't have the mental capacities left in him to say what they were anymore.

Had he made a wrong turn in life, or perhaps it was fate that had locked him away in a forgotten chamber deep beneath the earth?

He found himself to be a rational man and not one to reach out to unconfirmed deities, but the mildew stained wall were having their way on his mind. He was whispering incoherently. It was set on by dehydration, and a grimmer feeling of acceptance that the chains that kept him upright were the last tangible thing tethering him to the land of the living.

How many days had it been? Or had he slipped into weeks? When had the stairs stop echoing the distant sound of footsteps that would bring him water and scraps?

He shifted his bandage swatched feet. The closest thing he knew to shoes took purchase against the cracked raw floor. He could feel the grooves he had worn into the stone work. He existed, if only because he had left something, anything, to show he had been here. He knew eventually he would succumb to the mortality of man and fade from this pitiful existence far beyond the suns warm reach.

A ragged swallow echoed in the halls of his mind before sputtering out into the darkness. It swam with the shadows, humming softly like an old friend offering comfort. He had become accustomed to such thing, the fantasies of his mind. When imprisoned in total isolation devoid of noise or life, you became friends with the imaginary figures of the corners of your mind. Each sound he rasped was the voice of another. He supposed his failing health was a bit of a respite in this. Maybe even a kind of comfort.

He was not alone here. He had many friends to keep him company as he ticked away fictitious minutes. He tapped his foot on the stone. It was a dull whap of muffled noise. He could see it though. It came in the form of an old hound by his feet flapping a droopy tail back and forth in a lethargic wag. Too tired to bark or come closer to be given affection, the mut of a dog choose the mere proximity as good enough.

Oh how he yearned to avoid such fallacies as these, but how could he deny his fading life a bit of comfort? He had hoped that maybe his mind would be his only saving grace, that he would leave with a hint of dignity by being surefooted in his wits. That was not to be so, but at this moment, he couldn't find it within him to care.

He added to the melody of his tapping foot by rocking the chains that tethered him to the wall. If he tilted his head just so, and let a bit more of his sanity ooze out of him, they almost sounded like wind chimes. And so it was! He could see them, dangling calmly in a corner. It bore no support or any kind of reason to be hung, but there they were, clear as the rising sun. They swayed in a dreamed-up wind. Oh how delightful!

He had to add more and bring scenery into his world. Next to come was his back rubbing against the wall. The tattered shirt clung to nothing but skin and bones, but it would suffice. It scratched along the beveled surface. No, it was not his shirt, it was the trees. The leaves fluttering and tapping against one another in a sweet melody that reminded him of home.

The chimes were surrounded by a wreath of leaves. They swayed one way, then the next, completely at ease upon their perch. The old hound by his side appeared pleased as if she could see it too. This was simply delightful! Why had he not thought of this before? Why had he not realized he possessed the ability to venture outside the imposing walls to his home once more with the wonders of sound?

Finally, like a crescendo to a majestic symphony, his breathing filled the room. In a few breaths, he realized it no longer belonged to him, but from the person to his left.

Delicate hair rolled down him in shimmering gold strands, pooling at his chest. Thin red lines were pinched into an almost imperceivable smile. They parted ever so slightly to let the air come out in gentle even breaths. She was at ease, resting agaisnt him as if she were about to slip into a gentle sleep.

He leaned his head to one side, placing it upon hers. He had missed his wife more than words could bear. Now here she was, as mesmorizing as the day they married. Her breath was growing faint. He nuzzled her hair against the stubble of his chin. She seemed tired and needed to rest, and he supposed he ought to as well.

He let the soft smell of his lilac scented hair overtake his sense of smell. Softer still his breath became, it nothing more than a stuttered whisper. He felt overwhelmingly tired and felt his eyes start to droop. He did not want to rest just yet, but he could not find the energy to avoid it. He supposed it was time to get some sleep. He would see her when they both woke later. He would take her hand in his and they would go on a pleasant walk along the fields, the old hound of a dog fast as their heals despite her age. They would laugh at fickle things and talk about nothing and everything.

He smiled, allowing himself to begin to drift off. He supposed this wasn't too bad after all.

Then he breathed no more.

-----------

I literally just threw this out there. Hope it's not too bad.

[RampantDesires]

August 8th's word of the day is....

immense
Adjective ih-MENSS

Definition
1 : marked by greatness especially in size or degree; especially : transcending ordinary means of measurement
2 : supremely good

[Caedy]

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

garble
verb GAR-bul

Definition
1 : to sift impurities from
2 a : to alter or distort as to create a wrong impression or change the meaning
b : to introduce textual error into (a message) by inaccurate encipherment, transmission, or decipherment

[corvusul86]

The first indication that it was there was when it slightly shifted Neptune's orbit.  Astronomers the world over panicked at the impossibility, and after scouring the skies they found the what had done it.  In a matter of hours it arrived close enough to be seen by the naked eye as it blocked out an immense span of stars. 

It was the end of the world, as nothing could be done to stop an alien starship larger than the sun from splattering the earth like a bug on a windshield.  The aliens waiting to receive their shipment of novelty t-shirts were pleased at the speed of the shipment though, and as far as the Galactic Federation was concerned, that mattered far more than one more primitive species.

* * *

"Sir, we've made contact!" Ensign Bure said.  "They've sent a text response!"

"Well, what is it, ensign?" the captain asked.

Ensign Bure cleared his throat.  "Never, you pusillanimous anthropogenic disaster purporting to be of the suborder Haplorhini!  Fie upon you and all your kin, and may you never escape the breadth of our calumny!"

The bridge was silent for a moment, before finally Captain Schneider cleared her throat.  "Did comms garble their message?"

"Um... no sir, that was the reply exactly as they sent it," Ensign Bure said awkwardly.

The captain sighed, putting her head in her hands.  "I hate negotiating with scientific colonies."

[Shores]

The monster was immense. The Princess stared up at the height and width of it. Surely her kingdom would be protected now. All she had to do was get it on her side. "Do you like flowers?" She asked, offering the monster a small bouquet she had picked outside the cave. The rumours proved true as the monster smiled and took the flowers. The monster dropped them into his mouth and chewed on it. "I have a flower garden back at my home. We could keep you well-fed easily."

[Shores]

His brainwaves were garbled. He could sense that even without the technician telling him about the latest failure. Logic made no sense. Logic made nonsense. Logic made more sense but he couldn't straighten it out. Like a wrinkle in a shirt he was trying to iron. Iron logic was the only way to straighten him out and he smiled as they put him under again.

[Blythe]

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

élan

noun ay-LAHN

Definition
1 : vigorous spirit or enthusiasm

[corvusul86]

"That was an impressive show," Howard said.  "I'm amazed at what the children were able to accomplish."

"Yeah, it was great," the woman sitting next to him said.  "My daughter only joined the choir this semester, and she's already able to put on a show like this."

"Oh, who is your daughter?"

"She's the one on the far end," the woman said, pointing to her child.

Howard hesitated for a moment, trying to find the proper way to describe the child's performance.  "She approached her part with... great élan."

"I know, she was wonderful!"

"Right..." he said, as he watched the clumsy girl excitedly run the wrong way across the stage, knocking over two of her fellow performers as she did. 

[Shores]

She inhaled the chili crabs with great élan. The sauce flew everywhere, but that didn't stop her from breaking through the shells with the small hammer and munching on and on. Delicious.

[Graves of Chaos]

I decided to use a few of the Words Of The Day in my story, instead of just one. It ended up taking on a life of its own after I got done the second paragraph...

The Angry Demon

The clouds created a magnificent scene above the immense forest, splenetic in its destruction. The arbitrary storm cast bolts of lightning, thunder screaming from the mountainous formation. Above, within the cover of the clouds, resided the source of all the chaos. A chthonic little lightning demon, no bigger than a silver wolf, and sharing the same colors too. The being cast vibrant blue eyes out upon the wanton destruction it had caused, letting out a barking laugh.

It was with great Élan he continued on through the forested valley, watching fires begin to kindle the foliage that was dry enough, winds creating an entrancing dance. The thunder garbled the sounds of the creatures below, but the sight of their terror was enough. Soon its regimen would be done and it would be ready to handle creating larger storms over more vast areas. This was only the beginning of what it could do.

“Foul, retched humans won’t be able to call me weak ever again! I will destroy them all, along with every other living creature! Let my fury be known across this miserable planet!”

Its boisterous laugh created even more thunder. The storm showed no signs of diminution. Instead it was becoming stronger the angrier the little demon became. The powerful storm moved toward the mountains leading to the nearby dwellings of the humans that had spurred such malice.

But something caught the little demon’s eye. A lone figure standing at the very top of the mountain, glaring up at it. The demon, curious by nature, lowered itself enough to call out to the human and spoke.

“Flee human, before my storm kills you! There will be no salvation, but you have amused me with your stupidity in trying to stand in my way! You will be the last to die!”

The human’s glare did not fade, continuing to stand his ground, “I will not flee and I will not die. The people of this village may have wronged you, they deserve your anger. But they also deserve a second chance. We all make mistakes, even you. I forgave you for yours, yet now you seem to have forgotten who I am.”

The demon was perplexed. It knew this human? It could not recall having any memories of any human outside the terrible and abusive ones that had spurred its anger in the first place.

A glimpse of a pendant the human wore around his neck, a marbled blue and purple stone, caught the demon’s eye and triggered a memory of a small human child. The vision of a younger version of the human before him crying upon the ground.

‘I remember now’ it thought, as the memory flooded his mind. It had just finished creating the first storm of the season when it looked down and saw an injured human a few feet from a tree it had struck. It lowered itself from its storm then too. Last time had been to console a helpless human that had been unfairly injured.

That was when the humans had started being cruel to it. That was when they had started judging it, calling it weak and horrible. Perhaps it had been because of the child that had been injured? It remembered the stone, because it had found that stone and brought it to the child to try and quell the crying. But the injuries hurt too much, the child continued to cry.

It glances again at the human before it, seeing now the scars where its lightning had burned him as a boy. It winced at the sight of all the damage it had done, looking away in guilt.

“I see you remember now. I forgave you all those years ago,” he clutched at the pendant, “Can you forgive them? You were foolish once, allow them their foolishness in turn. Show them you aren’t the monster they think you are.” His gaze softened, a simper of a smile forming as he held out a hand, “Let me show you the magnificence I saw in you that made me come out during your storm, and show it to them in turn.”

The little demon extended out a paw to the human’s hand, allowing the human to guide it down off its cloud and onto the ground. It smiled in turn, nodded, and agreed to follow the human on foot to the village, to try and right the wrongs. What would it hurt to try and create peace instead of destruction after all.

[RampantDesires]

Awww yes!  It is kind of fitting that yesterday's word is late.  August 11th's word of the day is....

Pandemonium

noun pan-duh-MOH-nee-um

Definition
1 : the capital of Hell in Milton's Paradise Lost
2 : the infernal regions : hell
3 : (not capitalized) a wild uproar : tumult

[ZephyrInk]

"I'm going to call the boutique élan because that's what this is, that's how I feel - enthusiastic about it all. You'll see, soon everyone from town will flock over to us, buy her dresses and then down the line we'll open up haute couture". The idea itself made the young designer squeal with joy while her father looked on. That wasn't what he had in mind, he would have wanted her to go into business, handle his factory. He let out a dejected sigh at that and turned around.

"Yes, that much is a given. You'll do very well" he smiled his bright smile up at her as he patted her hand before he left for the door. "I think I'll go down and have some tea" and the girl nodded slightly, "yes papa, of course". With one last jubilant shriek, she clasped her hands forward and gazed around the attic before she walked forward and began pulling out silk and velvet cloths from the boxes. 

[corvusul86]

I was entirely unprepared for what I found while caving.

I'd been caving for years, and while I wasn't some expert spelunker, I like to think myself pretty good at it.  I had explored large, well known cave systems, and I explored tiny little places where I fancied I was the first person to really search the whole area.  Eventually I settled on mostly the latter type, exploring the small caves within an hour of my home.

I was exploring one such cave under the assumption that it would be another small, quick job, when I found a passage leading downwards.  It was relatively smooth and straight, but I could find no tool marks to indicate that it wasn't the natural result of water on limestone.  I followed it for some distance when I heard a strange sound.

At first I thought it was wind blowing from somewhere.  I was actually quite excited, since an anomalous cave with two entrances would be quite neat.  I resisted the urge to pick up the pace, carefully continuing my exploration, but the more clearly I could hear the sound the more my heart rate sped up.  It was the strangest, most off putting racket I had ever heard, and the closer I came, the more it sounded like a chorus of voices wailing in torment.

Finally I saw a reddish glow ahead.  The mountain range the cave was in the foothills of wasn't geologically active, but despite that some part of me immediately thought of lava.  The more likely cause would've been a coal fire, but I hadn't seen any or smelled any smoke, so I cautiously approached the light, which was also the source of the sound.

What I found I barely have the words to describe.  It was a large crack in the floor of the tunnel, and peering down into the depths revealed a view of Pandemonium.  The glow was from great fields of fire, in which screaming, tormented people writhed as demons laughed and tortured them.  I was frozen for a long, terrible time, unable to comprehend what I was seeing, until it noticed me.

It was like the rest of the demons.  It had a squat, muscular build, dark red skin, goat horns and legs, and great wings like a bat.  Upon seeing me it spread its tattered, leathery wings and took off, flying straight towards me.  I could see the cruelty in its piggish eyes, and as it approached it reached out with its clawed hands, eager to snatch me and pull me into the depths below.

I ran like I had never run before, dropping all of my caving equipment as I went.  I ran until I reached my car, and then I sped all the into town, and that's when you found me, officer.  So you see, I didn't have a choice; I had to speed.

[Blythe]

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

temporize
verb TEM-puh-ryze

Definition
1 : to act to suit the time or occasion : to yield to current or dominant opinion
2 : to draw out discussions or negotiations so as to gain time

[corvusul86]

"I understand the need for human sacrifice, truly I do," Doctor Pheldharm said.  "I mean, the gods must be appeased, right?  Assuming you're the sort to worship bloodthirsty, savage gods that require that sort of appeasement.  But still, the concept of sacrifice is perfectly understandable, it's just... wouldn't it make more sense to sacrifice your own species?"

"What do you mean?" the squid-faced abomination asked in its squelching rumble.

"Well, I mean the premise of a sacrifice is that one is, in fact, sacrificing something," the doctor said.  "For example, if I was a farmer who gave up my one of my cows to be killed, then that cow as something I lost, so it was a sacrifice.  That's why people talk about personal sacrifice as something lost to a cause, for example.  But you aren't human, nor do you have any extensive contact or relationships with humans, so what are you losing by killing a strange human?"

"Actually, in our language, we are making a gift to feed the gods," the writhing thing said.  "Sacrifice is simply the idiom used most often in your tongue, and so we translated it thusly."

"Really now, that won't do at all," the doctor clucked.  "Honestly, communication is the key to all successful relationships.  How are we supposed to maintain a proper dialogue if you take such linguistic shortcuts?"

"What is the point," it asked.  "You will be devoured by the outer gods shortly."

"It's the principle of the thing," the doctor said.  "Aren't principles at the core of this argument?  After all, aren't you taking my life for your religious principles?"

"What is the point of this line of conversation?" the thing finally asked.  "You will be sacrificed no matter what you say."

"Oh, I didn't expect to convince you of anything," the doctor said.  "I've just been temporizing until backup arrives.  Which, by the way, you're late."

"Sorry Doc," said backup said, kicking in the door and racking a shotgun.  "It would've helped if you were better at giving directions."

[Thete]

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

vermicular
adjective ver-MIK-yuh-ler

Definition
1 : resembling a worm in form or motion
b : vermiculate
3 : of, relating to, or caused by worms

[corvusul86]

Prison Shadowdown was impossible to escape from.  In the more than six hundred years since it had been opened by the kingdom with the aid of their duergar allies not a single prisoner had managed the feat, and it wasn't for any of the typical reasons.  The cells were cheaply constructed, the bars rusty iron that could be broken by even a moderately robust prisoner, the guards barely trained and highly corrupt.

No, what kept the prisoners contained was the location and the special guardians.  The prison was built deep underground, more than a mile from the sun, in the heart of a mountain of solid granite.  It was impossible to tunnel out, and the prison itself was the only safe spot in the entire mountain.  Luna had, much to her chagrin, learned just how dangerous the warren of tunnels between the prison and the surface really was.

She cursed her impetuous escape attempt.  She should've realized that the prison wouldn't have had such a fearsome reputation with the normal defenses that she had seen, but in her arrogance she had fabricated cheap lock picks and escaped her bonds and cell two days after arriving.  It had been child's play for a master thief like herself to avoid all of the guards, and in under an hour after she had started she was beyond the gates and heading towards the surface world.

The first inkling that something was wrong came when she heard an undulating slither.  She climbed up the wall and hid on the ceiling, relying on the preference for most things not to look up, even when pursuing something as abnormal as the small torch she left on the ground below her in the utter dark of the depths.  She barely held onto the rock of the ceiling when she saw what was in the tunnel.

The beast was like nothing she had ever seen before.  It was vermicular in form, inching along its massive segmented body as it filled much of the tunnel.  A hundred writhing tentacles felt the way before it, touching and probing every inch of the passage.  She only managed to avoid being found by pulling herself into a tight crevice in the ceiling, small enough that she could barely breath, but fortunately it spared her from being found by the monster.

It didn't save her torch, however.  The creature simply ate the flaming wood, digesting it in seconds before continuing on, leaving Luna all alone in the dark, miles of twisting tunnels filled with such horrors between her and the sun.

[Shores]

The pus erupted from the cavities in her skin with a vermicular motion, squiggling out and splattering the nearby passengers with the rank smell. A man started vommitting, and so did she. But instead of digested food, even more pus poured out of her mouth. She was dead within the hour, and there was nothing any of us could have done to save her.

[Thete]

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

bifurcate
verb BYE-fer-kayt

Definition
1 : to divide or cause to divide into two branches or parts

[corvusul86]

"Look, I'm going to make this simple," Carol said.

She was leaning casually against the control panel, one hand gently flicking switches as she brought the industrial equipment to life.  With a sputtering groan the machine began powering up, the immense saw blade slowly spinning up to speed.

"Now, all I want to know is where the crystal is," she said blandly.  "I don't care why your terrorist buddies stole it.  I don't care what you think it's used for, and what they plan to do with it.  I don't care about anything.  I just want to know where it is.

"So what's happening here, is you've reached a fork in the road.  You can either tell me what I want to know, right now, or I turn on the conveyer and let this log splitter bifurcate you.  Then I'll go and grab your next buddy, and give him the same two options.  I managed to capture four of you, and I'm sure one will talk, so keeping silent just means today's your last day on the planet."

She paused for a moment, examining one of the levers.  "Also, if it makes a difference to you, I just found the conveyer control, and it looks like I can set the speed, so if you don't talk, you're going into that saw crotch first as slow as possible.  Give you lots of time to think."

She flipped the lever to the slowest speed, ignoring the man's muffled screams, before casually strolling over to him and removing his gag.  "Now... were is the crystal?"

[TheSamm]

Lord Cyrus returned to the estate on fleet feet, mulling over the earlier congress. To say he was displeased with the outcome of the morning's discussion would have been a gross understatement, and it was clear that he was tense; his lips were tight, his movements were abrupt, and his greetings to the house staff were terse and lacked the grace of eye contact. His splenetic behavior was noticed immediately by his apprentice Elijah, who watched him sweep briskly into the study.

"Lord Cyrus, is everything well?" Elijah asked, rising slowly from his seat. Cyrus hesitated to answer as he removed and hung his cloak and hat on he wall beside the door. It had taken him months to earn the trust of the young lad, his orphaned nephew, and it would have shamed him to lash out in frustration as he had in the past. Cyrus sighed and sat heavily into his armchair, staring pensively into the empty furnace before him. He blinked twice and a flame burst to life, illuminating the room. The sudden flare startled Elijah, and Cyrus heard the shuffling of papers as they fell off the desk.

"Come, Elijah." Cyrus called. Elijah hastily assembled the papers and set them back on the desk. He rushed to his uncle's side and the old magician rolled his eyes. "You need not run, boy, you are an apprentice; not a servant."

"S-sorry." The young man stuttered quietly. Cyrus sighed defeatedly. He wondered how he could ever inspire élan in such a cowardly boy. He gestured to the chaise on the other side of the fireplace, bidding Elijah to take a seat. The boy sat obediently and hesitated for a moment to speak. Cyrus continued to stare into the flames, sitting as still as stone.

"So, how did it go?" Elijah asked.

"Terrible." Cyrus responded abruptly, nearly cutting him off. "It was utter Pandemonium, what with Franz and his cthonic charms. They ought to have him hanged for necromancy, but our very code of honor is being enforced as if it were merely arbitrary and not governed by precedence."

"Ah." Elijah responded quietly, unsure of how to proceed. Fortunately for him, he did not have to ask Cyrus to elaborate. The older man stood from his armchair rather suddenly and began to pace behind it with unbridled agitation.

"And I, one of the most senior members of our organization, I am being tuned out. I cannot suffer this diminution any longer. I cannot be forced to temporize with an age of lackadaisical discretion and spineless governance. I won't be a part of this concerted effort to garble the Devil's gold. Not all that gleams is pure. They are going to regret toying with forces they do not comprehend, and unfortunately, I will be sharing that remorse as I have yet again failed to stop them. But I suppose I can take solace in my schadenfreude, that they will suffer the consequences of their recklessness."

Elijah sat both with his legs together and his hands fidgeting in his lap on the chaise and watched his uncle's movements with fearful perplexity. His silence further irked Cyrus and he swung about.

"Have you no apprehension?" He demanded in frustration. "They are talking about raising the dead--and for war, no less! The threat we face is immense. How can I get you invested in your own survival?"

"It's not that I'm not invested." Elijah rebutted. "I just don't know what you want from me. I--I can barely cast a cantrip, let alone understand why a bunch of old magicians would want to create an army of Halloween rejects. What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to follow me." Cyrus said, making for his cloak. "Come. I won't let this stand. I'm going to give you something to do. We're going to have to adjust your regimen."

[Shores]

"You bifurcate the line on your family tree like this, then write the name of your father on one, and your mother on the other."

"But my father and mother are the same person!"

"Well, then you just draw a single line instead, leading to your parent."

The little cloned girl nodded and erased away the line her teacher had drawn, adding her mother's name above hers. She wondered if her children would have two lines or one.