~ Word of the Day ~

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

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Dys Astyr

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

burgle
verb BER-gul

Definition
1 : to break into and steal from
2 : to commit burglary against
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

ZephyrInk

"There were three of them, yes?" asked the police officer and the women all nodded up at him.

"Yes, like we've told the nice officer before you. Three who burgled poor Mister Lane's house. It was horrible, they took everything, didn't they Darcy?" cried the tallest of them and Lance had to fight the urge not to roll his eyes at their dramatic narration. The smaller yet thin Darcy as she had been referred to turned around once to look at her neighbor before she chimed in, "oh yes, horrible. The even took all of the expensive china. Poor Mister Lane indeed".

"Well...thank you ladies" Lance tipped his hat at them once before he sauntered off towards the crime scene.

corvusul86

The building looked like an impregnable fortress to the casual observer.  High walls, barred windows, and even regular patrols of guards, both human and canine, all served to keep anyone from even thinking about robbing one of the merchant princes.

Tertia was far from most people, however.  Born on the streets, she learned the ways of thievery from a young age, and by the time she was an adult, she was one of the best the city had ever seen.  When she decided to burgle someone, that person was as good as robbed before she even started.

The dogs were the simplest to defeat.  A few choice cuts of meat tossed to them over the outer walls, and they didn't even notice her entry.  The human guards were almost as easy, requiring only a few nights to memorize their schedule, and some speed when it came time to break in.  The walls did nothing to stop her, and before long she was crouched against the third story window bars, carefully pouring acid onto them.  Within an hour she was in and out, carrying more wealth on her back than most people saw in twenty lifetimes.

Pheal

Looking around the estate Jim could not see anything that appeared out of place. Quietly he walked towards the main building while staying behind as much cover that he could possibly find to not draw attention to his position.
As he came closer to the main building he noticed that there were no signs of anyone occupying it, Jim swiftly moved inside the house by cutting a hole in one of the glass panels near the backdoor.

It was a perfect night for some burglary he thought to himself whole pilfering through the cupboards not noticing a shadow slowly creeping up being him.

Him suddenly felt something cold and hats pressed against the back of his neck. It was all so quiet now you could hear a pin drop.
So many thought rushed through Jim's head but all he could focus on was the cold hard object that was pressed against him and the smell of dirt and iron.

Jim thought to himself that this was the last time he would burgle.

Autumn52

Janice felt burgled of her good mood when her friend acted so inconsiderate and rude. She always wondered, 'why does she treat me so badly?' Janice knew she had tried for a long time to just be civil. All of her efforts were blown away each time Karen acted so hateful to her. She knew this friendship was going to end. The question was, 'how badly would it end?'
May light guide you through your turmoil and may darkness never cross your path.

White Light be upon you if that is your wish

Shores

#480
There was only one way to burgle a hero's powers, and it was to get a bounty hunter. Not all of them were willing to do something so illegal. The punishment was having your own powers culled. She saved up from walking the streets on weekends, and finally hired one. If she wanted her revenge, she would have to get it before he died.

persephone325

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

accoutrement
noun uh-KOO-truh-munt

Definition
1 a : equipment, trappings; specifically : a soldier's outfit usually not including clothes and weapons — usually used in plural

b : an accessory item of clothing or equipment — usually used in plural

2 : an identifying and often superficial characteristic or device — usually used in plural
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

"Are you ready?"

"In a moment," Senna said, carefully pulling on the last of her outfits accoutrements.  Her dress was a long, cobalt-blue affair, flared at the bottom, with a tight, red whalebone corset cinched with black leather straps fitted into brass grommets.  She carefully adjusted her black velvet choker, before pulling her curled hair into an elaborate updo, held in place with dozens of brass combs and picks.  Around her wrists were long, trailing black ribbons, each containing slim silver wires, both to provide stiffness, as well as to allow them to conduct electricity from the small Leydon jars hidden under her dress' puffy shoulders should self defense measures be warranted.

With one last adjustment she smiled, turning to face her paramour.  "Well, do I pass muster?"

"Alway, milady," the gelatinous mass burbled, gently taking her offered arm with one extruded pseudopod.  "Always."

Shores

The accoutrements she wore signified her status. Long, dangling chandelier earrings woven with mithril and inlaid with large gems of fire. Hairpins with pearls from giant oysters. Even her shoes had glittering stardust. Her fingers were so heavy from the weight of her rings that she needed a handmaiden to hold her hands up as she walked or they would have all fallen off.

ZephyrInk

"We haven't had any luck with their accouterments sir. The place had been thoroughly searched but we did find some papers that you should see", the guard's voice came out crisp yet hinged on curiosity as he reported to the Lieutenant.

The man however tensed up at that information. Papers. In that moment he had desperately hoped he wasn't referring to the retracted documents that had been exchanged between him and the man who had escaped. Yes, they had history, a past neither had wanted to be disclosed but it seemed that one of them had changed their tune, gone the lengths to make sure the evidence was left behind.

Why would he do such a foolish thing? The Lieutenant only shook his head and turned around, swiftly dismissing the guard then as he walked back into the building. He had to at least see those papers now, before things got any worse.   


persephone325

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

emissary
noun EM-uh-sair-ee

Definition
1 : one designated as the agent of another : representative

2 : a secret agent
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

"Please, everyone, remember, making eye contact is considered extremely rude among Childraziks," Ambassador Xiao said.  "Also, not looking at a Childrazik is considered to be a mortal insult.  The key is to look at the emissary's feeding proboscis, unless it is eating, in which case looking directly at the proboscis is an invitation for mating.

"Now, physical contact should only be initiated by the emissary, except for between lunch and tea time, in which case you must offer your left hand to shake when you approach them, or after midnight but before dawn, when you must offer your right hand.

"You must not assign a gender to the emissary, and it is considered proper to use the gender neutral 'it', regardless of how they gender themselves.  If you use a gendered term, you are implying that you have a sexual history with the Childrazik, and if questioned on the subject, you may be requested to prove this is or isn't true by your knowledge of the number of cilia on the emissary's intimate region.  Guessing correctly is considered a marriage proposal, and you cannot refuse to guess or turn down the offer of marriage.

"Finally, breathing through your mouth in the presence of the emissary is right out.

"if you have any further questions, please refer to the briefing pamphlet.  It covers the basics of Childrazik behavior, and is a short read at only two thousand pages.  It skims over a few topics, but it should cover the basics."

Majere Dreavan

An emissary to the heart
Necessary for my art
making my heart sore
lifting me off the floor
But I can't hide my shame
I don't even know your name.

Autumn52

The Drayens did not like strangers but they had no choice but to kindly accept the emissary sent by The Council. As they anticipated the shuttle carrying the emissary they paced back and forth across the landing pad. Docktou, the leader of the Drayens, knew that if things went according to plan, their lives would never be the same again. He and the other members of the planets governing body were all present, patiently waiting to sign their way of life over to the ruthless Council. Once the sickness had taken root on their planet, they knew it was only a matter of time until they would have to call upon The Council for help. These four men and three women had done everything in their power to find the source of the sickness and a cure. They were certain of one thing and one thing only, The Council was responsible. The seven leaders had made a secret agreement, they would make The Council pay for everything they and their countrymen had lost. Docktou took a deep breath and remembered his father words, 'Timing is everything'.  It was something he kept saying under his breath as the shuttle landed and the bay doors opened to reveal the emissary. Hatred filled Dacktou's heart but his face revealed none of his feelings. He knew he had to get the cure before he could use his fathers knife to gut this worthless waste of space. He smiled, squared his shoulders and proceeded to fulfill the protocol which The Council had sent in advance of their chosen emissary
May light guide you through your turmoil and may darkness never cross your path.

White Light be upon you if that is your wish

Shores

"The last time the emissary of the Water God arrived, we accidentally served him unpurified water in his soup. That was how the Great Flood happened."

"So, we just have to only serve him beer?"

"Yes, just serve him beer, get him drunk, and then wait overnight until he evaporates and returns to the sky."

RampantDesires

the 29th's word of the day was....

coalesce
verb koh-uh-LESS

1 : to grow together
2 a : to unite into a whole : fuse
b : to unite for a common end : join forces
3 : to arise from the combination of distinct elements

They say best men are moulded out of faults, and, for the most part, become much more the better for being a little bad...
Absences 11/10 ≈ BlindfoldsRequests ≈  On's and Offs
<THIS SPACE PRETTIFIED SOON>
Tentatively Open to a few more 1v1's but also come write with me in Grey Matters--->

corvusul86

In the end, the rebellion didn't have a single cause.  Some people were upset about the crackdown on their native Pantheon by the Inquisition, others angry about the heavy taxes on non-Imperial merchants, and even more were furious about the crack down on all forms of vice.  In the end, the first riot that led to the death of the Imperial Governor was a leaderless mob that coalesced from a hundred revolutionary movements.  It was far more dangerous that way, as no outside force could truly hold down a population so strong opposed to it.  By the time the Imperial Legions arrived to reclaim the city, they found it held against them by an army of common folk a millions strong.

That day was truly the beginning of the end of the Imperium.

Autumn52


The demons coalesced and began their invasion of the last human colony. The invasion was swift but not as precise as they had hoped. Without their ability to read the humans minds they had no idea what was in store for them. The human forces gathered for one final battle against the legions that Lucifer had unleashed upon them. Zadkiel had warmed the humans of the impending attack and thus gave them an advantage. While the demon hordes had numbers and strength, the humans had heart and a fire in their bellies. The consuming desire to live free gave the humans something that the demons could never comprehend.



May light guide you through your turmoil and may darkness never cross your path.

White Light be upon you if that is your wish

Shores

Blood coalesced on the wall where his head thudded against it. His starved dog ran over to lick at the fast-gathering fluid, relishing the taste of iron after going days without it.

xPeof

He read the book, muttering to himself. What was his mistake? Was it his flawed reading that ruined his ultimate goal? Or was it a simple slip of the hand that added an extra amount to the mix? This was no laughing matter. One mistake could have ruined all of his previous work, and he would have to start over. Not to mention that the ingredients were expensive, and that he would have to get more. He checked and double checked, reading every line, analyzing how much he added by eyeing what was left, and making sure that the temperature was right. He started to doubt himself. What if the book was a fake? He had gone through a lot of trouble to acquire this tome. Surely a fake could not be guarded so well. Finding nothing wrong anywhere, he started to wonder. What was missing for him to achieve the impossible? Suddenly, his eyes lit up. He snatched a knife from the table. Looking at the bubbling mixture he had made, he hoped that everything was right. He plunged the knife into his heart, and fell to the ground. Everything went black.
The room was still. The skulls embedded in the walls seemed like they were grinning at the necromancer's failure. The shadows of his numerous victims dissipated, since there was nothing binding them to the world of mortals. Too many tried, and just as many failed. To cheat death was the ultimate goal, yet the innate imperfection of human nature was always the barrier.
Suddenly, the room went dark. The mixture had coalesced into a perfect mirror image of the necromancer's body. Sensing the aura of death surrounding the dead body on the ground, the unholy potion targeted it, and merged with it. The necromancer gasped. His flesh withered away, his skin turned pale, his muscles disintegrated, and his hair fell out. However, as he stood up, none of this mattered to him. He had escaped the ultimate fate that befalls all men. He was now Rikam the Lich, Lord of the Endless Night, Thief of Lost Souls, Master of Undeath.
To desire there must be lust
To love there must be trust

RampantDesires

The word of the day is....

interstice
noun in-TER-stus

1 : a space that intervenes between things; especially : one between closely spaced things
2 : a short space of time between events

They say best men are moulded out of faults, and, for the most part, become much more the better for being a little bad...
Absences 11/10 ≈ BlindfoldsRequests ≈  On's and Offs
<THIS SPACE PRETTIFIED SOON>
Tentatively Open to a few more 1v1's but also come write with me in Grey Matters--->

corvusul86

"Our window's tight," Fletcher noted blandly as he worked the Astrogation Terminal.

"How tight?" Dalir asked.  She didn't look up from the controls, carefully accelerating the ship based upon the raw data streaming to her instruments.

"If we want to get there in time we'll have to slingshot between at least six of the black holes," Fletcher said.  "The only path I see that we're fast enough to fly through is going to have a margin of error in inches."

Dalir smiled slightly.  "Then let's hope our Astrogation software is fully up to date."

Finally Fletcher locked in a trajectory, and Dalir whistled slightly as she eyeballed it.  Saying the margin of error was inches was being generous, as several points required flying so close to the event horizons of the black holes that even the slightest mistake would cause them to be pulled in.  If they wanted to beat the invasion fleet with enough time to spare to mobilize the navy they had little choice, however.

"Course locked in," Dalir said.  "And... we're committed.  If you don't mind, I'm going to go pray while we fly."

As the ship approached the first interstice between black holes Fletcher nodded.  "And I've got a date with a nice bottle of scotch."

Dalir shook her head.  "I still can't believe you wasted your personal weight allowance on alcohol."

"And you spent yours on a prayer mat," Fletcher sniffed.  "We all have our vices.  Now if you'll excuse me, if I get torn apart at a subatomic level I'd rather do it while plastered."

Shores

The coloured gas seeped between the interstices of the porous paper wall, a clear warning that danger was afoot. He taxed his brain, trying to figure out exactly what the mastermind would have used as his door password, to get them to safety before they exploded or got poisoned or whatever nefarious fate the gas held for them.

persephone325

The word of the day is....

soi-disant
adjective swah-dee-ZAHNG

Definition
: self-proclaimed, so-called

Example
"It's one of the few soi-disant walking boots we've seen this month that you might be able to, you know, walk in." — The Times (London), 3 Mar. 2010
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

"Who's that?" Carrie asked.

"Who?" Beth asked.

Carrie pointed to the man on a litter being carried down the middle of 5th Avenue.  He was fat, but dressed in fancy clothing, with a crown on his head.  "Oh!  Him.  That's the King of New York."

"The King of New York?" Carrie repeated, blinking in confusion.  "How does that work?"

"Well, he's the self proclaimed smartest man in the city," Beth explained.  "He's also the self proclaimed richest man in the city.  And the self proclaimed most noble man in the city.. and a lot of other soi-disant superlatives."

"How does that all work?"

"Well, he can declare anything he wants... and he has enough money that it isn't worth fighting him on it.  We mostly just let him do what he wants, and try to stay out of his way.  Just... try not to catch his eye, or all of your property will be swiftly proclaimed his... if you're lucky."

"Don't the police do anything?"

Beth snorted.  "He basically owns the governor... the only time he almost ended up in jail he was pardoned, and everyone involved lost their jobs.  Trust me, it's just not worth the trouble of interacting with him."

"But that's not how this is all supposed to work!" Carrie objected.  "Why doesn't the governor get voted out!"

"A few billion spent on someones campaign does a lot to get them reelected," Beth said with a shrug.  "That's oligarchy for you."