~ Word of the Day ~

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

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Flower

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

bedizen
verb bih-DYE-zun

Definition
1 : to dress or adorn gaudily

The Green One

He ran, desperately, without looking back as he heard those quick steps behind him. Every turn he took, left or right, seemed to take him nowhere safe. There was no place to hide from that... Thing running after him. Thick sweat droplets streamed down his face and neck as he gasped for air, wincing at the sharp pain on his side. Was he so exhausted already? Or did that creature hurt him without him even noticing? He cried in pain and frustration as his body hit against a wall. There was no escape now. The thing grew closer. He could heart it, smell it, see it moving in the dark as it dragged its shape towards him, large claws shimmering in the dim blueish light of the night. He closed his eyes, ready to surrender to a terrible death. Cold knives sank into his flesh, his body spasmed into a siting position and he looked around, terrified. He let go a heavy sigh at the familiar surroundings, wiping the sweat off his face as he chuckled. It had been just a nightmare.

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The Green One

#1202
Sitting on his comfortable chair, he perpended about words and mystical worlds, but giving a quick glance to the clock, he knew there was no time for that, the match was about to begin.

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Kit Cat

Pardon me I cannot write
Though I try with all my might
The words simply will not come
I fear my poetic days are done

It seems that I’m stuck in a rut
My stupid brain has gone kaput
Please call again another day
I may be better then, who can say

Kit Cat

#1204
There was an emperor with bedizen design
Who loved to dress in clothes so fine
He put on his new suit
Gave everyone a hoot
And now the designer’s doing time

Lilias

The two slipped away at deepest dark, that short while between moonset and sunrise when the world itself seemed to stand still. They sneaked out through the hidden tunnel that ran from behind the library fireplace to the stables of the groundskeeper’s lodge, where their horses - two unshod elderly nags just bought on that day - were waiting for them. They led the animals by the reins, picking their way with agonising slowness in the dark, until they reached the edge of the woods, and only then swung into their saddles, the thick layer of fallen tree needles and leaves muffling their steps.

They were only able to carry a backpack each, so only the most precious of their belongings could be salvaged; most had to stay behind. It was a blow, though not a crushing one. So much work, so much time and effort that had to go to waste because yokels couldn’t stop gossiping about what the people in the big house were up to, without a lick of sense to understand the nature of their work or their relationship either.

They had no illusions about ever coming back. Once they realised the birds had flown, the locals would almost certainly take their wrath out on the house and its contents. The two would definitely be burnt in effigy, which wasn't half the problem the real thing would have been. Their names would be ceremonially cursed, too, which didn’t matter, as they weren’t real anyway.

Stupid people didn’t matter, in the end. What really mattered was riding away safely, inconvenienced but not hindered. A good familiar could work anywhere.
To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.
To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,
and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,
and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.
~Wendell Berry

Double Os <> Double As (updated Feb 20) <> The Hoard <> 50 Tales 2024 <> The Lab <> ELLUIKI

Flower

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

ostensible
adjective ah-STEN-suh-bul

Definition
1 : intended for display : open to view

2 : being such in appearance : plausible rather than demonstrably true or real

Lilias

Ovi spotted Paula the very moment he stepped into the ballroom. Looking resplendent in her crimson gown and diamond tiara, she held court in the corner closest to the fireplace, among a half-dozen rapt men and a couple very livid women. All seemed to be going to plan, Paula drawing as much attention as possible to herself and away from him, but Ovi could see, as he approached casually, that her ostensible gaiety didn’t reach her eyes, which swept from face to face around her as if she was deciding who to throttle first. He had better get her out of there before she let anything slip; he had what they had come to get, anyway.

He grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray and moved to the edge of her circle just as she, ever observant, wrapped whatever witty fluff she had been saying and looked around pointedly for some forgotten drink that might not have been there at all.

‘May I impose on you for a moment, Princess?’ he asked offering her one flute with a bow that should hide the twinkle in his eyes from the adoring fans.

‘It would be no imposition, Ambassador,’ she returned with a smirk she didn’t bother to hide behind the flute. She accepted a hand to rise from her seat, then rested her gloved palm on his sleeve. The only excuse she offered to the gathering was a regal nod of her head; some of the men looked slightly crestfallen, but the women were obviously only too happy to see her go.

She took a long gulp of champagne as he navigated the crowd towards the balcony doors. It was probably the first refreshment she had allowed herself all evening, thought Ovi - Paula insisted on keeping all her wits about her while working. ‘The backstabbing done at a single social soiree would make an entire season of Council sessions look like so many children’s tea parties,’ she had said once. Being both a real princess and holding a Council seat, she was probably speaking from experience.

‘All done?’ was all she asked now, as they stepped outside.

Ovi nodded. ‘The message is going through the relays as we speak, and your getaway carriage is already on its way. Don’t leave any shoes behind.’

Paula barked a little, very un-princesslike laugh, gathered up her skirts in one hand and started down the stairs that led from the balcony to the garden. ‘See you when your pumpkin catches up, Prince Charming.’
To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.
To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,
and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,
and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.
~Wendell Berry

Double Os <> Double As (updated Feb 20) <> The Hoard <> 50 Tales 2024 <> The Lab <> ELLUIKI

The Green One

He turned on the air conditioner to ameliorate the room's temperature.

Not available for new stories

Kit Cat

Pardon me for my ostensible display
It seems that I am made that way
I tried to be other than myself
But it was too bad for my health!

Flower

#1210
June 29's word of the day was....

tome
noun TOHM

Definition

1 : a volume forming part of a larger work

2 : book; especially : a large or scholarly book

Jaclyn

#1211

  Stepping on the stones in the pattern shown on the treasure map opened the portal. The torch flickered in the dark passage, casting eerie shadows that would have startled the untrained. Avoiding the traps and tripwires, the three followed the descending twisting passage until it widened and the ceiling rose up and the sarcophagus on a dais in the center drew their steps. The tome that held the incantations to raise the occupant lay at its head. Within lay what had been a god.

Lilias

I found it harder and harder to contain my excitement as the boat approached the island. The end of the quest was finally in sight, and the dragons I had to defeat to get here were no less daunting or exhausting for being bureaucratic, rather than creatures of scale and flame.

The government was suspicious of anyone who wanted to visit the academy; the dean of studies, who was there to meet me as the boat docked, confirmed that life there felt halfway between hostage and exile, and that, without the academy’s status as a World Heritage site, it would have probably been shut down ages ago, and its treasures scattered among museum vaults at best, destroyed at worst. I offered some lukewarm reassurance that, if the worst came to pass, my college would do our best to safeguard all their relics. I wished I could convince him that the Council really could do that, but he was not among the Awakened and I could not risk such disclosure.

The academy compound positively pulsed with power, but the few people we met along the halls were all mundane and oblivious to it. The librarian, though… at last, someone who could understand. Still youthful-looking, though not necessarily young, and knowledgeable enough not to allow recognition of fellow Awakened ones register on his face.

He led the way along the back of the library, an absolutely glorious room overlooking the sea, the afternoon sun that streamed in through a row of arched windows making even the antique carved walnut bookshelves look bright and inviting. I would definitely spend time here, but my first target was in one of the side rooms, under lock and key with others of the most ancient and precious manuscripts the academy sheltered, rather than boasted.

And finally, there it was, on a carved wood lectern: the Codex Kassias, penned nearly 1200 years before, in an anchorage on a neighbouring island, by a mystic of what would later become the Chorus, a woman that even the mundanes still revered as a saint. The tome was too fragile to handle much, even with the mandatory gloves on, but that would not be a problem. The writing (presumably the saint’s own), neat and precise, with minimal embellishments on the capitals and no illumination, seemed to strain to surge up off the pages and embed itself in my brain, never to be scrubbed off again.

I glanced up at the librarian, who nodded in understanding. ‘It can be a bit much,’ he said. ‘I’ll stay around, in case you need help.’ I breathed a sigh of relief, whispered a brief invocation of guarded space to the One, and got to work.
To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.
To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,
and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,
and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.
~Wendell Berry

Double Os <> Double As (updated Feb 20) <> The Hoard <> 50 Tales 2024 <> The Lab <> ELLUIKI

RampantDesires

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

lambaste
verb lam-BAYST

Definition
1 : to assault violently : beat, whip

2 : to attack verbally : censure

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--->

RampantDesires

"That's right.  I said it!  The movie is crap, the sound quality is poor, the art is pretty but the animation itself is jerky and gives me a headache.  I barely made it through watching it once and you've watched it every month for YEARS?  Seriously?  That's kind of creepy Emily.  No, I really don't want to watch it again with you..."

The girl in front of him felt a tremor move through her slender frame, but that was the only outward sign of her turmoil. 

On paper and during their first few dates Trevor had seemed perfect.  Cute.  Gentlemanly, but not, you know, TOO gentlemanly, their last goodnight kiss had made her toes curl oh so nicely, but all of that meant nothing now.  Shards of half-formed dreams and conjecture fell around her as she stared at him, silence stretched between them.  Ten seconds.  Half a minute.  She watched him fidget as she counted precisely to fifty before her mouth finally opened.

"Alright, I'm going to break this down piece by piece for you just so you know how wrong all of those statements are, but first let's be clear about one thing. The Last Unicorn is a masterpiece, well ahead of its time..."  As soon as she started talking she knew that the night was over and there would be no repeat attempts at getting together.  It was kind of liberating really allowing her to lambaste her unsuspecting date without restraint.  If things were going to go down may as well make sure they did so in glorious flames.  And so it was with a small almost perverse smile that she began her argument, coldly ticking off her main points with the fingers on one hand as he watched in open mouth horror, clearly not prepared for the Pandora's box that he'd opened that night with the seemingly innocent question of 'so what movie do you want to watch?'

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--->

The Green One

A howl to the moon cracked open a new hunting night.

Abandoning her human shape, she ran across the fields, free from all rules, a wild beast relishing in her terrible grace.

Golden hues looked up at the munificent mother as a soft scent was caught in the chill breeze.

The trees danced for her, their shadows cloaking her swift motions. She was on the prowl, after some poor, unlucky soul, a sacrifice of sorts, for the goddess above.

Not available for new stories

The Green One

He paced across the library, his hands clasped at his back as he studied the colorful spines of the many books until a black one called his attention. He smiled, walking closer as he reached out with a slightly shaky hand, eyes full of curiosity as his long fingers grasped the edge of the book. The velvet cover felt warm to the touch as he studied the front image. A golden dragon, tangled in fight with a silver clad knight. What wonderful story hides this mysterious tome? He thought, walking away with the book in his hands.

Not available for new stories

Nymphadora

Her work was a necessary evil in her life. No one chose to do what it was that she did. No, this path was never just taken. Like those before her, she had discovered her true skills purely by accident. Her mentor, if one could call him that, had been certain and sure enough, as he always had been, was too right. Of course, he was long gone now and she was a seasoned professional.

"Please don't let it be what I think... please don't let it be what I think..." Came the soft chant.

So far the trials and tribulations of her new 'career path' had not brought her face to face with a long time phobia. It was only a matter of time.

The ancient tome left to her by her mentor and passed down from one to the next for generations, would tell her if the signs she'd come across were leading to what could be the worst fight of her life. Sure enough, the chapter she turned to had the first clue right in the title. After all, what else could it have been on a Full Moon.

Chapter 32 ~ By Silver Light of Night

If entering the hunting grounds of the Lycan, one can expect to find a strong scent of wet dog as well as ...


"Yeah, that's exactly what I figured..." she muttered as her finger ran down the list she could check off one by one as having seen or heard of in the parkland. She had a werewolf to track.

"Shit."
A&As UPDATED Oct 26/23

Rate:Weekly give or take
Status: Enjoying myself
Availability:
Unavailable for new plottings, sorry.
O&Os Please review
♪As flawed as you may think you are, you're perfect to me!♪

RampantDesires


July 1st's word of the day was....

métier
noun MET-yay

Definition

1 : vocation, trade

2 : an area of activity in which one excels : forte

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--->

Flower

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

canicular
adjective kuh-NIK-yuh-ler

Definition

1 : of or relating to the period between early July and early September when hot weather occurs in the northern hemisphere

The Green One

He blinked, chuckling, unable to get the sarcasm in her words.

Not available for new stories

The Green One

The unbearable heat of the Mediterranean summer gives everything a lethargic sensation.

Not available for new stories

The Green One

He paid the cartographer and peered at the freshly drawn map with a childish hope in his eyes. Little he knew, the chart was fake.

Not available for new stories

Kit Cat

Cry me a river,
Have you no shame?
You’re all of a quiver,
But am I to blame?

You seek to lambaste me,
With your withering lies.
Can’t you just see,
I’m done with the why’s.

Leave me alone,
I’m sorry I’m done.
You can never atone,
And now I must run.

Kit Cat

Writing in a certain metre
Is my overwhelming feature
You could say it’s my métier
I’d prefer to say it’s my forte