~ Word of the Day ~

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

Previous topic - Next topic

0 Members and 7 Guests are viewing this topic.

corvusul86

"I have to admit, this situation is somewhat... unfortunate," Cerelia said carefully.

"Unfortunate?!" Mara snarled.  "We're tied up, dangling upside down in a pitch black cave... well, not pitch black I suppose.  There is one source of light.  Can you name that source of light?"

"I can," Durvik grumbled.  "It's the cook fire.  For us.  To cook us.  On the fire."

"I get it-" Cerelia started.

"We're gonna be fillin' a goblins belly," Durvik moaned.  "At least they've heard of cookin', I suppose.  Bein' roasted sounds a little better than gettin' et raw... but couldn't they just kill us first?  Is that so much to ask?"

"Actually, I've heard that people taste different if they're cooked alive or dead," Cerelia said thoughtfully.  "I wonder if that applies to animals as well?  We certainly are cruel making foie gras, and that is supposed-"

"Still off topic!" Mara interjected.  "We're going to be eaten by goblins, and you're discussing how we're going to be cooked!"

"It's important," Durvik sniffed.  "This dinner is gonna be my legacy, so I hope I'm at least memorable.  What's worse, bein' remembered as a delicacy you tell your descendants about, or just bein' a forgotten snack?"

"You make a good point," Cerelia said.  "We really need to discuss things with the chef.  Maybe we can improve our preparation?"

"What did I do to get stuck with you idiots," Mara moaned.

"You're a thief," Durvik said.

"Most religions frown at least a little at how promiscuous you tend to be," Cerelia said apologetically.

"You drink more than I do, and I'm banned from fourteen taverns," Durvik said.

"You snore... even more than Durvik," Cerelia said.  "When he's drunk, even."

"I've been meanin' to say somethin' about that time you laughed at those orphans that you robbed," Durvik said.  "I mean, that was the last loaf of bread they had..."

"Don't forget the time you defiled a pile of holy symbols, then tried to seduce the inquisitors that came to arrest you for it while using one of the holy symbols as-"

"Okay!" Mara interrupted, blushing.  "Fine!  I deserve this, apparently.  Go team goblins or whatever."

One of the goblins, wearing a heavily patched white toque and dirty apron approached them.  "Is time for eating!  Who we cook first?"

Cerelia cleared her throat.  "Actually, before we begin... according to goblin tribal law, don't we get an opportunity to plead our case before your chieftain?"

"Is dead," the goblin chef said, glaring angrily.  "You killed."

"Then who is the new chieftain?" Cerelia asked.

"Not decided yet."

"Then why haven't you pleaded your case?" Cerelia said.  "You are the tribe cook, are you not?  If the sub-chieftain hasn't claimed the tribe, then that means that he was killed as well, correct?  So as one of the most important remaining tribal officers, shouldn't you be in charge?"

"Malik, in charge of tribe?" the chef gasped, eyes wide.

"Correct," Cerelia said.  "I'm a barrister, and while my specialty is civilized law, I've made a study of goblinoid law as well.  I can help you build a case..."

"Please do!" Malik crowed.  "Malik be chief!"

"Alright," Cerelia said.  "I'll take the case.  Now, as your lawyer, I advise you to free us.  We dealt with your previous opposition, and if other factions try to stand against you then we'll be able to physically champion your cause.'

"Makes sense," Malik said.  "What else?"

"How does she do that," Mara whispered to Durvik.

"I dunno," he grumbled.  "Did I ever tell you 'bout the time she convinced a dragon not to burn down the town?  Convinced him it'd lower his property values, seein' as his lair was on the mountain above the town, and you know how dragons are 'bout their wealth..."

Ace Shotwell

Marle paced all 3 feet back and forth in her confined cell acting as if she stopped moving, that she would sink into a endless sandpit. John sat there on the bed counting how many times she was going to walk around the cell, he had got to 127 when Marle stopped. she stared nervously out into the hallway between the cell bars with a desperate look in her eye. "What if she finds out about?"

"Stop it! I'm tired of thinking about it, whatever happens today, happens." John barked at her angrily with a winded breathe as if this was the 50th time he had answered that question today. John looked right her and instantly felt as if he was drowning in her glistening blue eyes which really did look like an ocean when her eyes had tears in them. John stood up and in one big pace stood right beside her and put his arms on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "I'm sorry Marle, I didn't mean to snap at you, I just, I'm nervous too, ya know?" a half smile and forced nervous expression glittered across his face.

"Its not the queen I'm worried about John, its that witch... I mean you remember what the Innkeep said right?" she said looking right into his green eyes as if this may be her last chance. " Tis'nt the queen ye need fret 'bout, Tis the woman in red from the northern isle's that ye got to worry 'bout. She pushed her way the queen's council to advise against all matters involving the magic's ya know? They say she can spot a magic user within 100 paces of her just off feelin's." Marle finished trying to her best to impersonate the innkeeper from the other day.

"I know.. I know. i remember what he said, but when we go before the queen today, maybe we get lucky and the witch isn't by her side." He said in the happiest tone he could muster, knowing that Marle would see right through his brave face. "We will tell the queen that we had nothing to do with the Incident on Tarn street and plead our case. She has to let us go, she just has too."

Marle wiped the last tear from her eye as she took her hand and put it on John's cheek and looked into his eyes. Was this the last time she was going to see him?
she thought to herself. "John, i have to tell you someth-". Marle stopped as a huge metal bang came from the end of the Hallway and two guards started right towards their cell. The Tall guard fumbled with his big key ring attached to his hip as the short stocky guard grinned at the two of them.

"Time to go you two." The short guard said as he pulled open the gate that the tall guard had finally managed to unlock. The short guard grabbed the arm of the Marle, while the tall guard grabbed John. As they walked through what seemed like endless hallways through the castle they finally made their way in front of 2 unnecessarily huge doors that swung open inwards towards the throne room. Marle had avoided eye contact with John the entire walk towards the throne room until this moment. She looked over at him, about ready to burst in tears for the 10th time today, until she saw John looking in her direction. John's face was not scared or anxious, but John had a look of straight determination about him and he gave her a reassuring nod and then, with a loud creak, the doors swung inwards.

Shores

Dad advised me not to add too much cheese to the pizza in case it melted off and onto the oven. I told him there could never be enough cheese which was why we had the current situation. I always thought that our kitchen floors were quite cheesy even before the makeover.

Dys Astyr

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

haphazard
adjective hap-HAZZ-erd

Definition
1 : marked by lack of plan, order, or direction
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Ace Shotwell

"Have you ever heard that old saying lad? Only fools rush in to love and war?" Jorah said with his mug of ale already halfway to his lips. Jorah finished off his mug like it was a tall glass of water in a mid summer's day, then looked Brandon right in the eyes. "If you continue with this HAPHAZARD siege of the castle, I'm not sure at what cost it will be. Aye, you always seem to come out on the better end of things lad, but I'm worried the cost for this battle may be too great".

Brandon studied Jorah as if trying to read a book written in a forgotten tongue. "I never asked for this ya know? I only ever wanted my family to be free... my people to be free. I have played my role in reclaiming our lands these past 3 moon cycles and dawn is on the horizon. I will not.. Will not give up this close to freedom." he said still not sure if he was telling this solely for Jorah's sake, or if he was also trying to convince himself. "The people, our people, deserve better than chain's and crumbs." Brandon lifted his mug of Ale and finished it as well.

"That they do lad, that they do." Jorah said admiringly, as if he was lost in memories of olden days of prosperity.

corvusul86

"Finally," Detective Singh said, pointing his gun at the criminal.  "You are under arrest."

"Nice going, detectives," she drawled, holding out her hands.  "Honestly, I thought for a while there you weren't going to catch me."

Detective Singh kept his gun leveled on the woman while his partner moved forward, cuffing her.  He only relaxed enough to answer her once she was restrained as his partner began to pat her down, looking for any possible weapons or contraband.  "It wasn't easy.  There were so many things going wrong at once we couldn't see through your real plan."

"Real plan?" she laughed.  "Trust me, all this wasn't what I'd call 'planned out'."

"That explains how haphazard most of this was," his partner said as she stood up.  "She's got nothing on her."

"Where's the disc, Sarah," he said, glaring down at her.

She grinned.  "Oh, you mean the info I stole?  My, I bet you are looking for that, aren't you?  Hmm... can't remember where I put it, sorry."

Singh glared.  "Maybe you'll feel more like talking when we get you downtown."

Sarah gasped unconvincingly.  "Oh no, whatever will I do!  Downtown, the place everyone knows you'll take me after a giant crime spree like I just enjoyed doing all afternoon!  Whatever will I do?"

Singh grit his teeth but pulled her towards the car anyway.  She might've done whatever random crimes she felt like all over the city that afternoon, but that didn't mean she didn't have an end game.  He just couldn't see why she wanted to be in police headquarters.

Shores

The haphazard way he drove turned all my dog's hair white. He swerved around intersections without checking, and cut it close with pedestrians. Why did I ever lend him my spaceship? The whole incident with Jupiter could have been avoided. It's was going to take us years to repay the repair bill for their monument of Peanuts.

ZephyrInk

The placement of the cones on the road suddenly made her uneasy, everything about the layout shouted haphazard and disorderly to her. "Couldn't they have made the test easier? We're learning to drive not going into battle!" she cried out and the driving instructor glared at her once before burying his nose back onto the clipboard, his pencil scraping away at another checkbox.

"Right, let's see what you can do and please try not to kill me" he bluntly stated, prompting a huff of annoyance to leave her before she turned on the ignition.

Dys Astyr

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

wreak
verb REEK

Definition
1 : to cause the infliction of (vengeance or punishment)
2 : to give free play or course to (malevolent feeling)
3 : bring about, cause
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

corvusul86

Captain Bonney stood beside her navigator, arms crossed behind her back as she glared across the rough waves at her distant target.  She was a woman of average height, but she stood tall in the eyes of the world, her confidence and reputation granting her incredible stature.  She had forgone her usual tricorne to let her long brunette hair blow free in the stiff breeze, and at her side hung her well used saber.

"All right, lads and lasses, you know what we're here for!" she shouted.  "Those naval dogs have sunk many a pirate, but not three days back they finally bit off more than they could chew.  Our old pal Black Jack was sunk, but he didn't go down easy!  You can see how they list like a drunken councilman, and they're just as fat with stolen gold... gold looted from our pirate brethren!  Are we gonna take that?"

"No!" the pirates shouted.

"They think because they run up a nation's flag that they're better than us," she shouted.  "Are they better than us cause we run a black flag?!"

"No!" the pirates cheered.

"Are we going to let them get away with sinking pirates all across the seas?"

"No!"

"That's right!  We're gonna sink every last one of them to Davy Jones locker, and we're take back what was rightfully stolen!  Let's ride this wind of vengeance, and wreak havoc on those scurvy naval dogs!"

"Yes!" the men crowed.  "Yes, yes, yes!"

"Run up the red flag 'neath the black!" she cried, and one of the men scrambled to do so.  "There will be no quarter offered, and none given!  To the depths with them all!"

"Yes, Cap'n!"

Bonney smirked, drawing her saber before looking at the pilot.  "Bring us in close; it's time for hand to hand."

"Arr arr, ma'am!"

Shores

He wreaked havoc on stage by slamming his guitar against the speaker, causing sparks to fly. The wooden slates of the stage caught fire and the audience screamed at the pyrotechnic display, thinking it was part of the show. It only took the main singer calling for an evacuation to start the stampede out. Thankfully, no one was injured in the ensuing chaos, though my baby brother was forever scarred and scared to go to anymore rock concerts with me.

Dys Astyr

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

akimbo
adjective or adverb uh-KIM-boh

Definition
1 : having the hand on the hip and the elbow turned outward
2 : set in a bent position
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

corvusul86

"This sucks," Kelly said, frowning.

"Ah, come on, it's fun," Anne said, giggling as she spun around and around near the wall.

"Maybe near the wall, but try that over here," Kelly said, waving her limbs dramatically, causing her body to begin spinning around a variety of axes.  "I hate zero G."

"What are you two doing?" Pari demanded from the doorway where she hovered, arms akimbo.

Kelly blushed, embarrassed at being caught acting like an idiot, as well as her inability to stop her motion since she was well out of reach of any of the walls.  "Just... just trying to get used to zero G."

Pari sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as Anne continued giggling as she extended and contracted her limbs to change her spin rate.  "This is going to be a very long trip to Mars, I can already tell."

Shores

The little girl had her arms akimbo as she scolded the turtle for turning upside-down. The turtle snapped back in anger.

Dys Astyr

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

fester
verb FESS-ter

Definition
1 : to generate pus
2 : putrefy, rot
3 : to cause increasing poisoning, irritation, or bitterness : rankle
4 : to undergo or exist in a state of progressive deterioration
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

corvusul86

"This is a bad idea," Marcus said as he glared at the knee deep sludge as he tried to carefully pick his way through the swamp.  Despite hit best efforts his armor was swiftly becoming covered in the disgusting muck, although he had at least been able to keep his sword clean.

"I thought you were a big, brave paladin," Fabia mocked.  Her dress was hiked up and tucked into her belt, although her legs were covered in mud almost to her hips.  She kept probing in front of her feet with her rune covered staff, trying to avoid any more deep spots.

"There's a a different between brave and dumb, witch," Marcus said.  "You do know what we're going after, right?  This isn't some petty conjuror we can burn at the stake and throw a party around.  We're hunting a bloody damned onmyouji on their own turf.  You do know what those are, right?"

"Of course," Fabia sniffed.  "Which one of us is a master of the ars arcana, and which of us swings a hunk of metal around for a living?"

"Then you should know that an onmyouji controls the ley lines," Marcus growled.  "Every inch of this swamp is his... and every scrap of power that flows through it.  We're going to be fighting someone who knows we're coming, and has a hundred times the power at his disposal that a person should."

"Quiet, both of you," Lucilla snapped.  She was out in front of the others, and her leathers had managed to avoid being quite so befouled as her companions gear.  "We don't have a choice.  Do you know what this swamp is named?"

"Given how charming it seems, I'm going to guess the Filthy Fen," Fabia offered.  "Maybe the Malodorous Mire?"

"This is the heart of the Flowering Meadow," Lucilla said.

Marcus looked around for a moment.  As far as the eye could see were twisted, black trees, thick mud, and pools of stagnant water.  It was easily the foulest, most noisome stretch of bog he had ever heard of.  "Lovely name."

"It's called that because two years ago that's exactly what it was," Lucilla said.  "Then he came, and diverted the flows of the ley lines.  Now the earth itself festers, and every day the corruption spreads further.  The very earth is dying, Marcus.  We don't have time to wait for him to leave his lair."

Marcus sighed.  "Fine.  You've made your case.  But how are we going to do this?  We're in over our heads, here."

"Oh, I've got a plan for that," Fabia said with a smirk.

Marcus groaned.  Fabia smirking never ended well for his dignity.

Shores

"If the last grudge he had is anything to go by, this one will fester for a few decades until he can't bear the irritation anymore, and then it will erupt in a malaise on the nearest passer-by, causing a cult to form, and at which point he will kill for his revenge. We must stop him."

"You make passive aggressiveness sound so sexy, darling."

"I know, wait until you hear me describe how I start a cult."

"Catch me. You're making my knees weak."

wander

From behind a shambling mob of Poxwalkers, to the dull throbbing bell chimes of his Noxious Blightbringer lieutenant, strode forth Typhus, First Captain of the Death Guard Legion. The chosen forces of the god of static decay known as Nurgle, scrabbling undead walkers mindlessly dragged their carcasses forward... As they'd find their next wave of meat, Typhus strode on using the undead as a walking meat shield. Even with nigh impenetrable Cataphactrii Armour that could take a Krak Missile as if it was a mosquito nip, Typhus would let the chaff fall... Any worthy to survive the initial purge to his diseased horde, the real heroes left over would cross Typhus' daemonic weapon Manreaper.

The cursed armament was a mighty scythe that could hook into and gut even a fully armoured space marine with ease. Though a lurching band of undead walkers stood between his ever patient for true glory in battle. A miasma of pestilence summoned by him placed the walkers under a cloud of flies and corpulent gases, letting the stray beams of the enemy's gunfire struggle to find their kills. He raised up Manreaper like a log over his shoulder, such was the size of the diseased scythe before swinging it down, "Charge!" he roared through the vox-caster in the rhino-horned helmet of his armour. The infantry could not stand the might of so many rabid undead suddenly picking up gait through the dark cloud of flies into their direction.

Already had the enemy felt the taste of a warp-tainted Plague Wind summoned by Typhus that hit into their gunline, reducing their number a clear rank of their file... As the Poxwalkers tore into the unfortunate enemy, their dead rising and becoming more Poxwalkers that again attacked the living... The mere presence of Typhus acted as a catalyst for an airborne pestilence known unfondly as Nurgle's Gift to form around the walkers. They had been chosen by Typhus and the dread god of decay to make enemy soldiers keel over and die whilst experiencing the musk of Nurgle's horrifying love. And the whole time the Tocsin bell of the Noxious Blightbringer doled out it's dirge, a sound of bells wishing to claim the dead of the plague and leave the tune of shell shock in any survivors to fester...

Dys Astyr

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

inhere
verb in-HEER

Definition
1 : to be inherent : to be a fixed element or attribute
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

corvusul86

It began as a faint glow, so dim that at first Acacia thought that she was simply imagining it.  She held her breath, hoping against hope, and slowly it began to brighten, until it glowed like a firefly in her palm.  Excitement began to thrum in her chest, but she didn't let it distract her as she fed more power to the spell.

Slowly the color became more clear as the magic gained shape, until an actinic ball of light filled her palm.  Acacia reached up with one shaking hand to wipe the sweat soaking it from her forehead, and despite the lapse in focus the orb remained, unchanged.  After several more long seconds she fully raised her hand over her head.

Summoned by the gesture, Professor Cornelius approached, tottering on his staff as he made his way past jealously staring students.  "Very good, my dear.  Very good indeed.  Come, class, gather 'round."

Acacia beamed as her entire class gathered around her, the magical orb the focus of envious attention from everyone else.  "Now, my dear," the professor continued.  "You are the first to create a proper construct with your magic.  Tell me, what properties does your aura inhere upon the spell, and what are you imposing upon the magic consciously?"

Acacia bit her lip, casting her mind back through the lessons and readings before speaking.  "Um... the color is because of myself.  Everyone has their own color, right?"

"Are you asking or answering?"

Acacia blushed.  "Answering, professor.  Yes, everyone has their own color.  And I guess, um, I guess I'm kind of a bright purply-blue color?"

"Indeed, my dear," he said with a raspy chuckle.  "Once you have gathered enough power, it will always be visibly your own shade of magic.  But what do are you consciously imposing upon the chaos of the raw mana?"

"The shape," Acacia said confidently.  "I made it swirl once I called the magic to my palm, and when I sped it up enough it became a sphere."

"Very good," Professor Cornelius said.  "It looks like we have a head student taking the lead in this class, and only in the first week.  Now everyone else... back to work!  Acacia, since you have mastered this lesson, it's time for you to learn how to form more complex shapes."

"Yes, sir!"

Dys Astyr

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

melee
noun MAY-lay

Definition
1 : a confused struggle; especially : a hand-to-hand fight among several people
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

corvusul86

Cait shuffled her feet nervously, waiting for her chance in line.  Dozens of other people, all as desperate and hungry as herself were waiting ahead of her, and even more behind.

One of the armed men stepped forward, his assault rifle held aggressively as he glared at the crowd.  "Who has their cards?  Anyone punched this week?"

Cait raised her hands, glancing around nervously at some of the glares she received, but she pulled out the red card and showed it to the man when he approached.  "Good," he grunted.  "Head on to the front of the line... you get yours first.  Thank you for your service to the Masters."

Cait shuffled forward, ignoring the angry mutters from the others.  She'd heard it all before, and often from people she cared far more about than her fellow refugees.  If donating a pint of blood a week got her preferential treatment for food, then she'd take it.  Sometimes the trucks ran out, and the last people in line were left starving.

"Let me see your card," the man at the front said, eyeing the bandage she still had on her arm.  He took it and examined it carefully, before handing it back to her.  "Alright, one meal for you, miss.  You can eat over there where we'll keep an eye on things if you want."

"Thank you," Cait said, taking the MRE she was offered.  She shuffled past the crowd, sitting on a crate near the wall as she started the meal heating.  She had barely begun to eat when the crowd turned ugly.

"They're out of food!" someone shouted.

Cait frowned.  Normally most of the crowd had a chance to eat, but that wasn't the case today.  The truck was already packing up, although the soldiers would wait a few minute for herself and the others under their protection so that they could have a meal in safety.

It didn't take long for the angry crowd to start pushing and shoving each other, and in minutes it had degenerated into an all out melee.  Cait tried to focus on the bland rations, glad to be able to eat.  Pride didn't fill your stomach, and it was a lesson that the desperate people in her Zone hadn't fully learned yet.

She managed to finish her meal and throw it away before the fight ended, slipping away before anyone noticed her.  The angry crowds sometimes took their frustrations out on Donators like herself, and she really didn't need that today on top of everything else.  Besides, she needed to keep her energy up so she could give blood again in a few days.

ZephyrInk

There was an eerie silence in the prison grounds, nothing moved, nothing breathed - it was all too quiet and Brandon thought that was strange. He had never seen such a lifeless place like this one before. As he gulped down the last bit of his water, he looked around, he had an idea. This place badly needed some noise, even the broken down jukebox had started to get on his nerves, the voices of the singers croaking out of it like a bored frog stuck in a box. The guards looked just as bored.

So, he looked around. There was a group of men there, huddled in the corner, presumably there for their end of the week reporting and another group on the other side who seemed to be having a rather heated argument over a deal gone sour. Hmm, his choices were limited. There wasn't anyone sitting on either side of him, which heightened his boredom.

He observed both groups with eyes narrowed until he found the one who had been sitting alone on the bench between the two groups. The bait, he thought, his lips curling into a smile then. Intrigued and partly amused, he took the opportunity to walk up to him, lean in and whisper something in his ear which caused the man to turn around sharply towards one of the groups.

Within seconds the man was on his feet and walking up to the others. A resonating punch was heard and Brandon stood up. Finally, he muttered to himself. What he hadn't expected though was that the blow had turned into a full blown melee between the two groups, prompting him to slowly step out of the way and keep a distance while the guards marched in for damage control.

   

persephone325

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

bona fides

noun boh-nuh-FYE-deez

Definition
1 : good faith : sincerity

2 : the fact of being genuine

3 : evidence of one's good faith or genuineness

4 : evidence of one's qualifications or achievements
This doesn't have to end in a fight, Buck.
It always ends in a fight.
You pulled me from the river. Why?
I don't know.
"Don't dwell on those who hold you down. Instead, cherish those who helped you up."

corvusul86

"Identify yourself," the robot said.

Elizabeth tsked.  "How quaint.  I wasn't actually certain that anyone still had these."

The robot paused for a long moment.  "Identify yourself."

"My name is Elizabeth Sand," she said.  "I developed the M3000 model autonomous robot series."

"Provide proof of identity," the robot said.

She scoffed.  "Override CXV-4438-Alpha."

The robot froze and turned off.  "There, is that sufficient to establish my bona fides?  An M302, really.  Who would still use something so primitive?"