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Author Topic: ~ Word of the Day ~  (Read 67804 times)

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Offline Rebelle

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Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #50 on: April 12, 2017, 01:20:16 AM »
And the end, the ignoble will rise from the shadows, usurping the throne, and stepping into his rightful place.  He will bring forth the Age of Peace, after the Age of Crimson ~The Vaticination of the Witch

For years a grand pall loomed over the King, for years, the prophecy foretold by Red Lamia prior to her execution rang in his ears – even in the silence of night as he laid in his bedchamber, watching the shadows that played over the wall.  The King, Ranulf the Proud had been known as a just man, a firm man, but a fair man.  Now, Ranulf was known as the Ranulf the Cowardly who saw every male either he be peasant or noble as a man who challenged his throne.  Men who were part of his army were placed there under threat of death and did not watch the borders as they should.  Men who were part of his household were either threatened every day with their death if they drove one toe out of line, or the death of their family members if they were believed to be conspiring against the king.  Men in his country were sent off to war even if they knew not how to use a sword of even wear armor, leaving the women widows or poor, or even both. 

The country was falling apart at the seams, war threatened at every border, his armies spread far too thin to come in time to defend the once proud steeled gates of the once grand capital.  Whispers lingered at the bazaar of large sea dragons being seen on the coast, only to disappear in the night.  The forester reported seeing barbarians with axes slung to their back brachiate through the trees as if they themselves were animals of legend.  It was as if Ranulf had been far too pleased to see his would be armies defile off in the horizon, sending would be traitors to the throne to distant lands to die while his own country would burn.  His own actions giving flack to those nearby countries who thirsted to expand their empires.   So it was of no surprise when the church bells rang from the monastery, sending alarm and warning through the hills that intruders had landed upon the shores.

The cloying smell of smoke lingered in the air as village after village burned to the ground.   Widows, women, children left without homes, without food for their bellies, but they were left whole – unharmed.  They ran towards the capital city only to find the gates barred and those who watched from the towers gave little sympathy.  “You will murder us all!”  An older woman cried, a gnarled hand thrown accusatory to those who paced back and forth slowly.  Their cries falling upon deaf ears it seemed, as not one glance was given to them.   

“The women alow sire, they continue to scream, to cry, to yell.”   The steward, a wisened old man who had been part of his father’s retinue so long ago that he was of no threat to Ranulf came in, his hand upon his forelock as he moved. 

Ranulf lowered a glass bauble, a gimcrack given to him by a princess something or other from one of the distant countries and peered at the steward for a moment, “is there a man amongst them?” 

The steward wrangled his hands together for a moment, considering his answer before he slowly shook his head, “I reckon not, m’lord,” he said quietly.  “Babes, children, women all, sire.” 

Ranulf looked to the glass bauble once more as if such an item could tell him the answer.  “Then so be it, allow them in and stop their incessant bleating.”  Waving off his steward, he would settle back in his throne, his sword close by, in case his usurper would come this night. 

The women were allowed into the courtyard of the castle, there they would be offered one bowl of gruel and no more.  One tankard of water yet no more.  They were offered pallets near fires, but no shelter from the possible rain that threatened the night sky.  The women spoke in quiet tones, hyperbole of who could be burning the villages down.  Great devils sent from Satan himself to pay Ranulf for his crimes of madness.  Sons of Red Lamia, the witch who had cursed their great king.  Their own men returning under the banner of a great warlord.  Whispers that lingered in the darkness well past midnight, yet the king did not hear such treasonous words.  The men who marched in widdershins around the castle (as clockwise would be far too easy to track), ignored the clucking of chickens well past their prime. 

The men who were soldiers did not notice the lone woman, a young woman who was only one and twenty if that sitting by herself by the barely lit embers of a fire left untended.  The cold gray steel colour of her eyes glaring up into the single lit window of the castle, knowing that was where he – the Coward would lay his head that night.   Her stomach had been clawed with hunger for so long she had forgotten what it was like to be sated.  Her heart had been clawed with pain at the loss of her father, her brother, her would be betrothed for so long she could not remember happiness.  It was as if her livelong life since she had been a young lass had been filled with so much darkness, that light could never grace her heart again.

And now… Now the man who had been the cause of it, the cause of it all was within an arrow’s flight of distance. 

It was an opportunity that the young woman would not let pass her by.

Offline Jazra

Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #51 on: April 12, 2017, 01:22:05 AM »
Aasa followed Ebby into Gymir’s home. The dimly lit interior with its oak beams and crossed axes mounted along the hallway walls brought back memories she’d tried to forget over many, many years. In New York, she favored whites and pastels. She craved large, open windows and well-lit rooms. Suddenly, she laughed. “Seriously? Torchlight?”

Gymir shrugged his broad shoulders, accidentally bumping into one—for him—narrow hallway wall. Raven who had backed up as the three entered spoke up. “They’re battery operated. Grandpa bought them last Halloween.”
 
Gymir shrugged. “Raven meet your Aunt Aasa, she’s my oldest girl.”

Raven met Ebby’s eyes and they shared a moment, before she snickered. “Told you, she was older.”  Then she looked at her grandfather. “How come I never heard of Aunt Aasa if she’s your daughter. No paintings of her?”

Ebby stepped forward. His dark eyes went to the mountainous Gymir and then to his mistress, the green-eye sorceress. They didn’t look like they’d immediately kill each other. He smiled at Raven. “Think you could show me the neighborhood? Let these two elderly annoying ones get reacquainted.

Raven grinned. “Sure. Were you in disguise, I thought you looked taller and thinner of face with a sort of mischievous glint in your eyes?”

Ebby laughed as he grabbed the teen’s hand and dragged her outside. “If it was a disguise, it wasn’t much of a disguise,” he said. “I was meant to look like someone your aunt once ran about with. I think she meant to tease your grandpa a bit.”

Back inside, Aasa looked distraught as she sat cross-legged on a couch covered in unshorn sheep’s skin.

“So you’ve finally come home,” he growled at, trying not to sound pleased.

Aasa shrugged and snapped her fingers sending a flicker of annoyed fireflies scattering to the roof. “I don’t really consider this place home. It took me long enough to find where’d you buried yourself.”
 
“Oh pshaw, you’re the one who ran off for no reason.” Gymir said. “It’s not like we chased you away. How can you expect things to stay the same if you vanish for a thousand years?”
 
Aasa’s eyes widened and her face looked paler than usual. Her tone was shocked as she said, “You were going to sacrifice me to Oden!”

Hyperbole and utter pish-posh.” He said. “I was going to marry my eldest daughter off to a perfectly acceptable suitor and a rich one to boot!” Gymir tried to sound firm and confident, but in truth, Grandap Gymir was no longer the sternly rigid father he had once been. “It was a good marriage.”

“He was almost your age and he had one-eye and his idea of fun was dispensing justice by leaving dead men hanging from tree branches. And you wonder why I ran off?”

Gymir snorted and shifted in his own seat. The wood creaked and Aasa thought momentarily the chair might collapse under his muscularly solid weight. “I did my best. If I was wrong, I was wrong. But you ran off with my liege Odin’s blood-brother Loki, a married man with children and you ended up in the company of our sworn enemies.”

Aasa flashed her first grin. “I was angry. And his wife and children were monstrous little chits.”

Gymir’s lips tried to fashion something resembling a smile. “We both made mistakes.”

“I need to find Loki,” Aasa said.

“Thought little Ebby was your Loki now. I can’t help you. Last I heard he’d gotten tied up with some mess. You should track down Thor, he’s trustworthy and he and Loki used to be mates.

Outside, Ebby was teaching Raven how to play the pea under a shell game, but he kept losing. As Raven pocketed Ebby’s coins, she asked. “Will they be okay? They seemed tense.”

Ebby just grinned and lost another round of the shell game. 


Offline Flower

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Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #52 on: April 12, 2017, 03:17:10 PM »
Today's word of the day is....


snaffle
verb SNAFF-ul

Definition
1 : to obtain especially by devious or irregular means

Offline Flower

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Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #53 on: April 13, 2017, 08:46:48 AM »
Today's word of the day is....


napery
noun NAY-puh-ree

Definition
1 : household linen
2 : table linen

Offline Nico

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Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #54 on: April 13, 2017, 11:55:18 AM »
Frobidden Desires

Darkness. Silence.

Heavy, crimson curtains shielding the windows, perhaps causing the blackness outside to seem more heavy, more dreadful. He always knew what was behind the heavy drapery. Darkness, even if it was bright sunlight. Incomprehension in a world that was on the brink of awakening into a new century. Into a new, enlightened era, if one believed the gazettes and the cinematographs - the new miracle that was on everyone lips these days. All this notwithstanding, society was split. Rich and poor. High up and down below. Morals were flying right out of the window everywhere - unless it came to matters they deemed as dreadful, wrong. Like an illness they had to cure.

The manor house was asleep. Peaceful, one might think.

The Lord and Lady had retreated hours ago, the staff had done their work and went to their sparesly furnished chambers under the roof, in the servants block of course. To remain invisible to the higher-ups. As it should be. Everyone was asleep. Everyone but he. He was still gazing out into the darkness, feeling lost. Vulnerable. Fingers slowly caressing the velvet curtains, listening to the almost inaudible rustle. The dining room felt so huge, unbearable almost. Each breath would cause an echo, each rustle of fabric wouldn't remain unnoticed. But maybe it was just him and an overactive imagination. Overbearing, they would call it. Vulgar, even and wrong.

But no. They would never know. Not the Lord of the manor, nor his Lady or anyone from the household staff. There was power in holding a secret, mind you. Danger and power - what an alluring combination, was it not? No, they never would know what occurred here in this very room. In their dining room. Never would they think about something like this, not without feeling as if they would sin against their very beliefs - and all this at the dawn of a new century. Reconnaissance was behind in certain matters. Especially those of the heart and that its desires were inscrutable. Mysterious but never wrong.

His mind was still reeling but he did nothing to stop it. To stop the thoughts from clouding his consciousness. They came to stay, long before he acted on his instincts. Sinful thoughts, indeed, a fingertip still slowly trailing over the back of the seat he just had adjusted back into its proper place. He would not forget his duties. But - what was this?

Ah, just a small, barely visible stain on the napery. Spilled wine as testament of fleeting, secret pleasures shared with a kindred soul. Without having to think, he decided to leave the tablecloth exactly where it was. The parlour maid would change it in the morrow, undoubtedly so. Maybe that was cruel on his part. Maybe it was his only way of executing something akin to justice in an unjust world. Would their delighted screams still echo in the morning? Would they whisper from the noble wood panels, the exquisite carpets and the crystal glasses? When he left the room, he did it with a smile on his lips. No shame. No reason to damn himself. Just another glance -almost a victorious one- back to the dinner table.

He knew that he would see him again. Soon.

Offline Flower

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Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #55 on: April 14, 2017, 08:31:09 AM »
Today's word of the day is....


magnanimous
adjective mag-NAN-uh-mus

Definition
1 : showing or suggesting a lofty and courageous spirit
2 : showing or suggesting nobility of feeling and generosity of mind

Offline Beautiful Mystery

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Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #56 on: April 15, 2017, 02:57:12 PM »
Today's word of the day is....

pittance
noun PIT-unss

Definition
1 : a small portion, amount, or allowance; also : a meager wage or remuneration

Offline Jazra

Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #57 on: April 16, 2017, 01:13:16 AM »
Aasa and her father worked through their issues inside, while Ebby and Raven were trading stories and getting to know each other outside. Ebby's eyes twinkled as he asked about her two piercings. She laughed. “Oh, I’ve more than two,” she told him with a wink. “What about you?”

He looked dramatically shocked. “Aren’t you a tough one.” Then he shrugged and his eyes darkened as he recalled a bloody ritual from his past when Odin had tried to force him to betray his cousin, Aasa, before he’d reincarnated as a black cat. “Nothing to speak of,” he finally said with a grin and a wink of his own. As he spoke, he saw a black Dodge Demon driving slowly down the street, its 707 horsepower engine rumbling like the gates of hell were opening. Two men were in the front seat; one wore thick facial hair and dark glasses. The other man was clean shaven, but looked like he suffered from complexion issues, his skin almost scaly in appearance.

“You know darling Raven,” he said casually. “You’ve won a bit more than a pittance off me today. You’re a natural at the shell game. Perhaps you might go inside and ask Aasa to step out and refresh my purse.”

Raven looked puzzled. “What?”

“Just run inside darling,” he said. “Now please.”

She looked hurt, but shrugged. “Whatever.”

Ebby heard the door slam shut as Raven walked inside, displaying her pique at being asked to go inside. Then he made a gesture and Dawnguarde, his rune axe appeared in his left hand. He snapped his fingers with a loud, authoritative sound and a small round shield appeared in his right hand. It glowed briefly with the golden light of the rising sun and then the light faded.

Two men stepped out. The bearded man carried an axe, while scale face wielded a sword. Ebby’s eyes glowed with joy and he acknowledged the two men. “Fenrir, Fenris.”

Fenrir, the bearded one, growled, “Lothbrok!” He broke into a run toward Ebby, his axe beginning to spin in an intricate and ancient pattern of battle.”

His brother Fenris raised his sword and shouted, "Kringlaugd wierd, ein spadi for qvoki ne skeifr drpr munni ne svinhqfdi," promising to decapitate Ebby. Both men began to change, shifting into forms truly monstrous.
« Last Edit: April 16, 2017, 01:19:42 AM by Jazra »

Offline Beautiful Mystery

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Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #58 on: April 16, 2017, 07:37:37 PM »
Today's word of the day is....

interminable
adjective in-TER-muh-nuh-bul

Definition
1 : having or seeming to have no end; especially: wearisomely protracted

Offline Sofia Grace

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Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #59 on: April 17, 2017, 11:38:13 AM »
Today's word of the day is....

reciprocate
verb rih-SIP-ruh-kayt

Definition
1 : to give and take mutually
2 : to return in kind or degree
3 : to make a return for something done or given
4 : to move backward and forward alternately

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Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #60 on: April 18, 2017, 10:43:13 AM »
Reciprocate.
To give and take mutually.

Expected in friendships, expected in relationships. The crux of all human relationship contact. The opposite was selfish. To take without giving back. Commonly attributed to feelings. Emotions. Love.

Love.

The first time he reciprocated her actions was in the middle of the night when he caught her in the console room sobbing over a figment of her imagination. He relented and carried her to his bed to give comfort because it was ultimately his fault she was experiencing such pain.

The guilt was interminable. Neverending. Absolute.

The second time he reciprocated her actions was again, in the middle of the night, just after America. She had suffered a nightmare, and she had come looking for the one person who could soothe the ache. The man she so adored, and yet should not want.
He gave her company, and fish fingers and custard. A hark back to the old days.

The third time, it was the opposite. He had come to her, seeking atonement for failing her.

For ruining her life, for destroying her marriage, for everything.

Everything.

She responded in kind to give him what he so needed. Comfort, companionship. Peace.

And in turn, in the end. He gave her what she had so been seeking since he stole her away in his box, so long ago, defying every rule he had ever made, and succumbing.

To aliens, to Time Lords specifically, reciprocation of feelings is far from high on the agenda. And yet, yet... Despite the confusion, and blind ignorance at times, it flickers through.

Companions come and go, but his love for them all is infinite.

Offline Sofia Grace

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Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #61 on: April 18, 2017, 01:07:04 PM »
Today's word of the day is....

grimalkin
noun grin-MAWL-kin

Definition
1 : a domestic cat; especially: an old female cat.

Offline Beautiful Mystery

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Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #62 on: April 18, 2017, 06:24:00 PM »
It was a lovely spring morning, the breeze lightly ruffling the new leaves on the tree. The cherry blossom trees were in full bloom, the blossoms gently floating through the crisp air. Spring was the time everything came alive after the desolate and harsh winter. A man and women were currently sharing a pot of coffee on the patio. With a roll of her shoulders, the brunette took a long sip of her coffee and looked out towards the skyline. "This really is a wonderful time of year." She mentioned.

Before the man could speak, a portly orange tabby cat wandered onto the patio. The cat slowly moved, eyeing the two women as she let out a few meows. It seemed as though she was looking for a snack or two. The cat wore a thin black collar, a shiny green bell in the center next to a matching tag that read 'Princess.'

"Oh, the cute grimalkin!" The woman exclaimed, clicking her tongue to the roof of her mouth to summon the cat. The cat sashayed over to her, leaning into her leg and purring.

The man furrowed his eyebrows, a snort to follow. "A what now? That is a cat, not a gremlin..." He muttered, shaking his head.

The woman rolled her eyes before letting out a sigh. "A grimalkin. Maybe I should buy you a dictionary for your birthday." She retorted, smirking as she gently picked up the cat. She stroked the cat, scratching behind the ears as it purred.

"I think you are lying. Grimalkin my ass." He grumbled in response before he took another sip of his coffee. Who the hell called a cat that? They called them a cat...or kitty cat...

Offline Flower

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Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #63 on: April 19, 2017, 05:00:31 AM »
Today's word of the day is....

tatterdemalion
adjective tatt-er-dih-MAIL-yun

Definition
1 : ragged or disreputable in appearance
2 : being in a decayed state or condition : dilapidated

Offline BlytheTopic starter

Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #64 on: April 19, 2017, 05:54:46 PM »
The tatterdemalion state of Wonderland was something that left him ill at ease. It was a club for the high elite, a beautiful place where only the most wealthy, most beautiful or handsome, or the most clever ever managed to secure an invitation. It was commonly known that the gangsters that ran it were suave, sophisticated...and completely sociopathic. The club was a front for some manner of crminal operation--the FBI assumed that they dealt in human trafficking.

That was part of the allure. Where else could the near-oligarchic fashionistas and socialites get a little taste of danger? It was the sort of club that catered to specific and alarming tastes. On the surface, one might have assumed that it's delectable pale decor, the pastel cerulean and lime lights, the hint of crystal, the blue velvet carpet that led into the place, meant that it was more of a stuffy faux riche hotspot. Really, that was just a front. Mr. Edward Thompson knew this, and that was why he was slated to infiltrate it and uncover clues about the criminal operations that he knew took place there. But the outside of the club was not what he was expecting--it was a dark building with an almost dirty look. Was it meant to have that 'hole in the wall' appeal, to have a plain unpleasant appearance on the outside but be beautiful on the inside?

The exciting thing to the patrons was that out of every one thousand people that visited the club, one of them was never seen again. Many of them were politician's sons or daughters or a relation to a B-list celebrity--someone just popular enough to make waves, but never so popular that anyone looked very hard for them.

Except Mr. Thompson. This was his case.

He cared for everyone, regardless of who they were or what station they were born into. Most of those who had gone missing were not good people. They were minor drug addicts or washed up starlet offspring. The tall slim black man, dressed to the nines in his Armani suit, which was so black it was like someone had cut a piece of the night out for him to wear, had cut a deal with one of the club owners, Desmond Zhao. If Mr. Thompson found sufficient evidence to convict any of the other club owners, Mr. Zhao would flip and testify if he received immunity. It was how Mr. Thompson had even arranged this visit to the club--his mole had gotten him access. In return, the undercover FBI agent was expected to reciprocate that favor by digging up dirt that preferably incriminated the other owners and not Mr. Zhao, if possible. Evidence was to be skewed to make Mr. Zhao look like he was duped or somehow not consciously aware of the missing persons. There had been thirty people who had disappeared from the infamous NYC club. He could hear the music playing from the club already--some new chillstep music. Just edgy enough to be dance music, but calm enough to appeal to refined senses of its wealthy clientele.

They were assumed to be dead. Some of them had been missing well over two years now.

And so Mr. Thompson fell down the rabbit hole and entered through the massive glass double-doors, which were edged with gold and cracked from some sort of collision and looked more cliche than pretty, and found himself in Wonderland.

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Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #65 on: April 20, 2017, 08:00:31 AM »
Today's word of the day is....

eighty-six
verb ay-tee-SIKS

Definition
1 :  (slang) to refuse to serve (a customer)
2 : to get rid of; throw out

Offline Shores

Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #66 on: April 20, 2017, 10:52:06 AM »
“Here is the ice-cold water in a teacup you requested. And how is your meal so far?”

“This steak is raw!”

“Terribly sorry, Sir. Here, let me get that for you.” I picked up the plate. The steak was already three-quarters gone.

“I want a fresh one.”

“Of course, Sir.”

I went to the back of house and grumbled through the pass. “Customer ordered a rare, ate three-quarters, and called it too raw. New steak, please. Maybe make it more of a medium-rare.”

The new steak was plated in double-quick time and out I went again. I served other tables before coming back to the man.

“How was the steak?”

“It was too over-cooked. I want a fresh one.”

“Of course, Sir.”

I took the half-gone plate back and asked for a rare one this time.

“It’s too bloody now.”

The third plate only had a silver of meat left when I replaced it with a fresh fourth steak.

“The steak was too small.”

I returned with a fifth steak, making sure it was a large cut.

“Just how much can that customer eat?” The chef shook his head. “Well, the owner did say the customer is always right. Here, new plate.”

The sixth steak was a little too burnt on the outside, the seventh was not juicy enough. The man had eaten more than a kilogram of meat by now, even considering leftovers.

“Chef, we’ve got to eighty-six the steak.”

“The customer is always right! We must serve him until he’s satisfied.”

“But Chef! What if he won’t stop eating?”

“He’ll stop eating when we close.”

But he didn’t.

“But I still haven’t had the perfect steak yet!” The customer protested when I told him we were closing.

I asked the Chef what we should do. The Chef, a big burly man with scars from dueling with the stovetop fires, walked out of the kitchen.

“All the food will be on the house tonight since we failed to satisfy you.”

The customer shook his head with a sigh. “That’s okay. I’ll pay for all the steaks. I was just looking forward to the perfect steak today.”

“That’s it! You’ve insulted me enough! I’m going to make you a steak that will knock your pants off.” The chef turned back to the kitchen and started pulling ingredients out of the pantry.

I watched as he worked his magic, adding ingredients, mixing, seasoning, and then finally searing the steak to perfection. The Chef brought it out to the man.

“Ah, this is perfect.” The man had a satisfied smile on his face as he stood up, and shook the chef’s hand, not an ounce of steak left on his plate. “Welcome to the Federation of Outer Delicacies. FoOD aims to serve beings all across the galaxy fine-dining cuisine and your steak has just qualified earth to be included as a member state. Ships with fresh produce should be arriving in a second.”

The customer snapped his fingers and our restaurant was bathed in a blinding white light from the windows.

Offline Flower

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Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #67 on: April 21, 2017, 12:11:25 PM »
Today's word of the day is....

bucolic
adjective byoo-KAH-lik

Definition
1 : of or relating to shepherds or herdsmen : pastoral
2 a : relating to or typical of rural life
b : pleasing or picturesque in natural simplicity : idyllic

Offline Shores

Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #68 on: April 22, 2017, 09:55:10 AM »
She had flipped through “Teleporters Monthly Issue #181” until she saw verdant green hills and little sheep dotting the countryside. It was just what she needed. Years of strategising had left her with a throbbing headache from a lack of sleep and an even heavier heart at her conscience.

Yup, the bucolic life was definitely for her. She had punched in the co-ordinates to her new home and when she arrived, she realised she should have read through the small paragraphs on the magazine.

“Oh my gosh, there are… you guys are elves!” She quickly flipped to the page and skimmed through it. Oh, she wasn’t even supposed to enter this universe since they hadn’t discovered teleportation. “I’m so sorry, I left the kettle on at home. I’ll just be going now.”

“Guards, seize her!”

If she thought she was in trouble for entering a non-teleportation zone, killing creatures from that zone would probably have her die twenty times.

“Strange round-earred being, what sort of magic do you posess to appear in our locked meeting room?”

“She must be a messenger from the gods! Come to aid us in our hour of need.”

“No, she is a witch. She must be entombed.”

“Perhaps she is just an elf with her ears chopped off for her heinous black magic.”

“Check her ears!”

Offline Beautiful Mystery

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Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #69 on: April 22, 2017, 10:21:46 AM »
Today's word of the day is....

Cartographer
noun kahr-TAH-gruh-fer

Definition
1 : one that makes maps

Offline Shores

Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #70 on: April 23, 2017, 05:47:10 AM »
“I’m the best cartographer this side of the solar system.” She grinned, curtsying with an imaginary skirt. “Exosphere, thermosphere, mesosphere, stratosphere are what I’m good at. But my specialty is the space between the Earth and the moon.”

“And all your maps are done with… your brain?” He eyed her suspiciously.

“Yes, sir! No programs involved. 100% organic and all-natural!” She winked.

“She’s the best money can get you. You wanted the best, I got you the best.” The old man coughed, then banged his walking stick.

“Men are usually the ones who are better at star-charts. And she’s a bit too young, isn’t she?”

“Ever heard of a man being good at directions?” She wrinkled her nose, not really wanting to deal with this type of customer, but having no choice. It was difficult to earn a skeptical man’s money. “I talk to all the travellers who make their way between moon and Earth. I know the exact conditions you’ll be facing on take-off.”

“The price is kind of steep, isn’t it?”

“Lips are looser with some drink in them. Information doesn’t come cheap nowadays.”

“Hm. Alright, but I want to test you out first.”

“Test?”

“I want to know the conditions for tonight. Then we can ask a traveller and if it’s true, I’ll buy a map for three day’s time.”

“Alright. Sounds fair.” She shrugged her shoulders. It was a game she played every night anyway.

“And I want to see how you create your maps. Talk me through it.”

“That’s proprietary information! Gonna cost you more.” The old man coughed.

“I’m willing to pay for ease of mind. I don’t want any viruses in my map.”

“It’ll cost a lot, lot more.” She grinned.

“That’s fine.”

He followed her to the back room, where she lay down on the table and rolled up her shirt. On her abdomen was a moving kaleidoscope of different coloured moles of all sizes.

“You use this?!”

“No, this only shows current conditions to my best calibration and estimation. I still have to study it and plot out a course.” She reached over to the metal tray and popped a pill in. Her stomach lighted up, throwing the pattern of moving spots on the ceiling.

“This is…”

“100% organic.” She grinned, looking up at the shadows rotating around the small-scale earth on the ceiling. “I study this, plot a course through everything, and convert it to 3D co-ordinates for your ship.”

“Forget the map. I’ll hire you to be on my ship.” He reached into his wallet and pulled out a gold card. “It’ll be a long-term arrangement.”

“Sorry, but I can’t go back to earth. Someone down there wants me dead.”

“Who is it? I’ll hire bodyguards.”

“It won’t work. The Commander-in-Chief wants her dead.” The old man shook his head and harrumphed.

Offline Beautiful Mystery

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Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #71 on: April 23, 2017, 11:36:47 AM »
Today's word of the day is....

Factoid
noun FAK-toyd

Definition
1 : an invented fact believed to be true because of its appearance in print
2 : a briefly stated and usually trivial fact

Offline Shores

Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #72 on: April 24, 2017, 05:51:32 AM »
“Hey, little factoid, I can’t walk faster just because you’re poking me in the back with a spear.” She stumbled over a small sand hill on the stone floor.

“It’s not a spear, it’s a javelin.” He shook his head and poked her in the back again.

“They are the same. At least, I’m hoping you know how to use it and that I didn’t marry you for nothing.” She kicked up some sand and was rewarded with his coughing.

“Look, just walk faster.” He spat, trying to clear his mouth of the sand.

“I would if you untied my hands. I can’t balance. The floor here isn’t flat.”

“If I untie you, you’ll just run away.”

“It’s a one-way corridor. Where could I run to?”

“It’ll branch out soon enough, right?” He tried to peer into the distance, but his torch was the only light source.

“If we encounter a monster down here and my hands are tied, you’re dead.”

“Alright, alright.” He started untying her with one hand when there was a loud shriek in front of them.

“Shit.”

“Start walking.” He poked her with the javelin again.

Offline mioyumyum

Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #73 on: April 24, 2017, 08:01:24 PM »
"Chewie, I'm trying to man this plane" Solo roughly said to his faithful friend. He was messing with the switches again aboard the cargo ship; usually, the ship would go based on sheer guess work on Chewie's part. He always seemed to play the life of the hero while Solo followed two steps behind him.

"Hey listen, just because you went down to the bottom of death star three and dragged me out, hoping there was still life in me doesn't mean you're the hero now ... ow!" He clutched his side where the saber had attempted to make his heart its sheath. He wasn't sure what exactly it was that kept him alive. Chewie looked at him and said "RAWRGWAWGGR".

"Yeah, whatever Wookie furball. I'll steer us home."

But Hans Solo looked at the instrument control panels, primitive as they might be. They did nothing but dance around from time to time. Looking out the window, Solo realized that the stars seemed to be going farther and farther away, not zooming past them. Nothing they did seemed to get them to where they needed to be. It seemed like everything was going black.

"Surprised to be here?" The words made Solo jump. It was Anakin.

"I was surprised to be here myself, after all the trouble I caused."

Solo looked up and around the ship.

"I'm sorry you thought you didn't die for a moment there, Hans. I had to make sure that when you and Chewie came here, there was somewhat of a transition. So, using the Force - we replicated what life might be like if you hadn't died. It is a little known factoid that those who are on the verge to going to the dark side who suddenly die could be disoriented by the light."

Solo scrunched up his head. "You mean this is ... wait a second. How did Chewie get here?"

"We have a lot of time to discuss that, Solo. We have a lot of time."

**********************

Darth Vader looked at Hans Solo sitting in the chair. He looked up and said, "Splendid. The freedom fighters all think they are living their lives, including their after life. In reality, they are sitting here, gaining new, but vain memories ..." He breathed heavy "and believing they are alive now. We can still maintain to the faction leaders they are still alive while we know they are completely useless to anyone."

Offline Sofia Grace

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Re: ~ Word of the Day ~
« Reply #74 on: April 24, 2017, 08:32:10 PM »
Today's word of the day is....

ambiguous
adjective am-BIG-yuh-wus

Definition
1 a : doubtful or uncertain especially from obscurity or indistinctness
b : incapable of being explained, interpreted, or accounted for : inexplicable

2 : capable of being understood in two or more possible senses or ways