~ Word of the Day ~

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

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persephone325

"My job is to debunk paranormal occurrences." She explained. "I doubt your house is haunted, but I'll do my best to conduct a thorough investigation to put you at ease."
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."

persephone325

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

biannual
adjective bye-AN-yuh-wul

Definition
1 : occurring twice a year

2 : occurring every two years
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."

XiroSevyn

#1477
The Equinox parties were biannual. But Melissa enjoyed preparing for them all year long. As soon as one ended, she was making preparations for the next one. It kept her awfully busy. But that was the life of a witch's thrall.

Flower

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

glade
noun GLAYD

Definition
1 : an open space surrounded by woods

XiroSevyn

Haven Cove was known best for its brilliant blue water along the shore, and it's warm beach. But the small city held a secret that only the natives knew about. Deep in the Evergreen Forest that surrounded the city, there was a quiet little glade. While technically not a part of the city, everyone who knew about it considered it the city's personal matchmaking site. Legend had it that anyone who visited the glade on the night of a full moon would meet their soulmate the next day in the same place.

persephone325

"Did you know there's an old story in this area?" She asked. "Deep in the woods, there's a glade that's supposed to be home to faeries. They say you can see them if you go there during a full moon."
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."

persephone325

"Ever since I was little, I've had the preternatural ability to see the spirit world." He told her. "I've made it my job to help those with unfinished business go into the light."
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."

Flower

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

secrete
verb sih-KREET

Definition
1 : to deposit or conceal in a hiding place

2 : to appropriate secretly : abstract

Loiosh

Sian looked out across her assembled sisters and brothers with pride tinged with regret.  There were fewer and fewer of them each time they met now and had been for the last several years.  The Romans were suffocating the old ways slowly but surely.  Those that remained were true believers, dutifully attending the biannual ceremonies.  This would be the last though, one way or another.

Sian began the opening chant in her clear strong contralto quickly filling the glade and stopping the murmuring of idle conversation.  On the second verse a chorus of voices joined her lifting the song into the night air.  Together they welcomed the spring, season of hope and rebirth.

“My friends,” she said, “the time has come.  We must stand against the darkness and win or lose we must strike a blow.”  She looked across the faces, young and old, male and female, and nodded.  They were all with her, to the end.

“Each of you will take weapons,” she said, gesturing to the stack of swords, daggers and crossbows piled at the foot of the altar.  “Secrete them in your dwellings and await the signal.  The Consul is expected within the week traveling on the high road.  Be ready.  Be strong.  Be true.”

The assembled members stepped forward to take their choice of weapon.  There was really nothing else to say, they were committed and most likely they would all be dead within the next fortnight.  Sian gestured to each in turn, tears streaming down her face.

“Blessed be.”

Strega

"Who is it, honey?"

"No one, they were just asking for directions."


There was nobody on the threshold when Norah answered the door.
Instead, she found a small red envelope with a message inside.

TWO DAYS LEFT. TICK TOCK.


She secreted the envelope into her jewelry box, along with the rest...

persephone325

He watched with a smile as he children frolicked through the field, chasing bugs and singing nursery songs to each other.
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."

XiroSevyn

The spy secreted the letter into the usual mailbox as per ordered. And then she waited for her new mission.

Jaclyn


  Her walk through the canyons of her mind lead to unexpected vistas and deep pits of sordid misery and her new mind to secrete each and all into compartments she could draw upon in leaner times.

Jaclyn

Today’s word of the day is....

habiliment
noun huh-BIL-uh-munt

Definition

1 plural : characteristic apparatus : trappings

2 a : the dress characteristic of an occupation or occasion — usually used in plural

b : clothes — usually used in plural

Lilias

All Christie wanted was to have a good cry, and she barely managed to wait until the doctor was out of the room. A whole month! Her dislocated knee throbbed even through the haze of the painkillers, but that was not the reason for the tears. A whole month--at least!--out of training meant she was definitely going to miss the biannual Grand Prix competition that was going to define the Olympic team that time around. Two years to the next one were an eternity--not to mention that by then she would be too old to be considered as a breakout gymnast and would probably be dropped from the team altogether. Hell, she probably was as good as permanently benched already. All the dream, all the work--poof! Vanished in the chalk cloud of a landing that didn’t stick.

‘Hey, what’s up, sweetie? You sound like your world is ending.’ Christie looked up in alarm. Hadn’t the doctor closed the door on his way out? Yet here was this woman she had never seen before--short, black jumper, ginger ponytail, Welsh accent, she noticed--standing in the doorway with concern all over her face as if she was family.

‘No--only my career,’ mumbled Christie, wiping her nose and swallowing back a hiccup.

‘Career? What kind of career would end with a poorly knee? Dancer, gymnast? Ah yes, you look like one. How old are you, sweetie?’

‘Fourteen,’ Christie groused, feeling a bit called out. ‘I’m going to miss the Grand Prix, which means I’m going to miss the Olympics, and by next time I’m going to be too old, and…’

‘Whoa, whoa, wait a minute there. The Olympics are not the only big party out there. There’s the entire World Cup series--the open events are pretty much the anti-Olympics--not to mention the Commonwealth Games. There are all the medals you can carry out there, sweetie, just waiting for you to win them.’

Christie gaped at her, at a loss for words. ‘I--my club doesn’t train for those,’ she said finally, feeling more than a little stupid.

The woman snorted and rolled her eyes. ‘Bloody elitists ruining the show for everyone! Face off with the Russians and the Chinese or nothing! Here.’ She pulled a card out of the back pocket of her jeans and put it on Christie’s nightstand. ‘If you’re not happy with the arrangements, once you go back to training, and feel like switching clubs, give us a call. We can make a champion out of you yet.’
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

persephone325

Very few people would ever see her; the harbinger of death. Her ghostly form floating through the planes of existence. It is said that those who do managed to see her - misfortune falls upon them.
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."

Loiosh

#1491
Jervis tucked his hat back lazily as the band launched into the first bars of the intermission music and took another slow swig from his bottle of whiskey.  He curled his lip at the sharp flavor.  They just didn’t have proper grain here.  Something about mineral balance or electrolytes or some other pinhead bullshit.  The native substitute was a shortish purple plant that looked like a grape vine crossed with a miniature Christmas tree.  It could be distilled into alcohol.  He took another swig and curled his lip again.  Just barely.  Still, it was cheaper than importing Terran whiskey and Jervis was well past the days where he was flush enough to do that on a regular basis.

The band picked up as the men and women from the first act filtered back from the arena.  Most of them were human, despite Grundy’s promises of the most realistic frontier show in known space.  With the exception of the two actual old H’draxxi who probably actually rode against Terragens back when the humans first landed, the habiliment of jungle warriors looked painfully gawdy and overdone.

The eldest H’draxxi, Zix, made a muted buzzing sound as they passed Jervis’s seated location.  He responded by tipping his hat, one relic of a bygone war to another.  He wasn’t sure how old the old bug was but he probably didn’t have too many more summer shows in him.  If you listened to Zix, his consciousness would get re-absorbed into the Mother Mind or whatever weird crap they believed. 

It was no weirder than a big beard in the sky that spanked you with fire if you were bad, Jervis supposed.  Humans set the galactic standard on bizarre behavior.   They were just better than anyone at kicking the ass of anyone who looked at them funny, or had land they liked, or just needed an ass kicking.  Personally Jervis reckoned it just all went black and you ended up as worm shit.

“Smith!  You’re up next!” Grundy was stomping over to him from ringside, the stick up his ass firmly in position.  Something about short men in positions of power always put Jervis in mind of a certain breed of Old Earth dog.  Always puffing their chests out and barking loud and acting mean.  He didn’t use to take that kind of crap from no man.  How the mighty have fallen.  He smirked and toasted Grundy with the last of the whiskey and a curled lip that was not entirely caused by the taste.

“You get off your fat lazy drunk ass and get mounted up in the next ten seconds or I’ll find me a new sharpshooter and put you back in the sludge before night falls.”  He didn’t really mean it, he never did.  There were none left.  Jervis was the last of the lancers who had first set foot on a wild savage land and bravely claimed it for Mother Earth.  The audiences, shrinking every year as they were, still knew who he was for the most part even if it was ninety percent bullshit.

Then again, cocky little bastard might go through with it if pushed far enough.  Losing his H’draxxi troop one by one hadn’t stopped him.  Probably best to get on with it.  Jervis staggered to his feet and picked up his plasma rifle after a few tries.

“You got it, boss,” he said with a jaunty little salute.  He meandered over to his hoverbike and as he climbed on he made eye contact with Zix again.   H’draxxi moods were hard to read even if you knew what you were looking for but Jervis felt a sudden deep connection.  We’re both of us long past our sell by date, chief he thought.  Now it’s just a race to see who finishes last.  At least you’re gonna go back to your people.  He surprised himself by pulling himself erect on the bike without tipping over the other side.  Time to put on a show.

Flower

Today’s word of the day is....

orotund
adjective OR-uh-tund

Definition

1 : marked by fullness, strength, and clarity of sound : sonorous

2 : excessively elevated or inflated : pompous, bombastic

Strega

No, no and no!

Another disastrous audition, another afternoon gone to waste, another group of amateuristic pieces of arrogant no-lives!

C' est pas possible! A whole nation and the talents? Ou sont-ils? Hiding?
Out, everyone! We are done! Allez!


Simone was the most eccentric maestro the Satin Melodies Orchestra could ever wish for and the sudden death of her pianist left her with no other option but to hold an audition. After half a disastrous month for Simone, she still had not found the star she was looking for.

She stormed out of the music hall and made her way to her home. It seems though that sometimes excessive emotions tend to tune us out.
Simone did not know where she was.

And then she heard it, loud and clear. These colorful, orotund keys made her space out, her mind left her body and wandered through storms, electrified fields and falling stars.

She followed the piano sound down the little alley. She found the place and knocked the door.

Lilias

‘Seriously, man? You found the place and said nothing?’

Richie took a long drag from his cigarette, a portrait of languid indifference that Buddy might have found exaggerated, if he were not so excited himself.

‘Yeah, I found it. Year before last, around this time, in fact. It wasn’t much, so why make a big deal about it?’

‘Well, I’m asking! What’s it like?’

Richie shrugged. ‘Like they say. Little glade among the rowans, just off the first bend of the creek. Perfectly round, and all ringed about with toadstools big enough to sit on. Not that I tried, mind you. Quaint place, creepy though.’

‘Creepy? Did you get chased by leprechauns or something?’ Buddy scoffed.

Richie shrugged again. ‘It was winter, and there was no frost at all in the ring,’ he said. ‘If there ever was a place in the woods like those you see in horror flicks, where something lives and doesn’t like to be disturbed, that was it. No way I’m going back.’

‘Aw, come on man! You’ll make me go all by myself?’

‘I’d warn you not to go at all, but if you must go, alone it has to be.’

‘Chicken.’ Buddy drained the last of his beer and stood up. ‘Worst case, stomping some toadstools sounds like fun.’

Richie let him go, then stubbed out his cigarette and picked up his own beer with a little smile. Sending a single visitor over was all that was needed; his end of the bargain would be kept and he would be safe for another year.
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

Loiosh

#1495
Title: Oktoberfest

The moribund orotund Kaiser of Verse
  had poems that he liked and liked not.
He sniffled at piffle and waxed on at length
  regarding the stanzas he got.

The few said, confused, he must certainly know
  the power of well metered rhyme.
But the rest kept abreast of his critical fare
  and noticed a pattern, in time.

When burghers with burgers came round to his house
  and plied him with beer never-ending
in October, not sober, he'd write a review
  to the poet, great kudos extending.

Sent rhymes other times his demeanor was foul
  filled with bile at the poor poet's try.
But at last he did pass; all the pretzels and booze
  sent the poor critic up to the sky.

So rejoice that your voice may be spread near and far
  and posted wherever you may.
And toast with the most frothy beer in your hand
  that Germans invented this day.

---

One quick update - Sultan to Kaiser to be more on theme.  The inspiration came from the first line and didn't turn into an Oktoberfest thingy until later. - L

Flower

Today’s word of the day is....

trousseau
noun TROO-soh

Definition

1 : the personal possessions of a bride usually including clothes, accessories, and household linens and wares

Loiosh

Maureen opened the bedroom door halfway and whistled.  Slowly, as the whistle continued and dropped in pitch, she opened the door the rest of the way and took in the whole scene.  There were dozens of suitcases and wardrobe boxes all stacked up neatly against the back wall of the apartment's single bedroom.  The piles went wall to wall and floor to ceiling.  In the near corner two separate bags of golf clubs lay against the floor lamp.  She shook her head.

“Hey, sweets,”   A firm set of muscular arms wrapped around her from behind and pulled her into an embrace.  John kissed her softly on the right cheek.  “I’m all packed and ready, as you can see.”  He beamed at the wall of luggage with pride.

“That is…quite the trousseau, babe,” Maureen said with a laugh.  “Are you sure we don’t need a bigger house?”

“Well, I think another bedroom or three might come in handy,” he responded with a playful pat on her belly.  She snorted and swatted his hand away.

“You better keep your mind above stairs, mister.  Look, there’s no way you actually need all of this.  Let’s go through and cut out some stuff for storage.”

There was a pregnant pause and a heavy sigh on the back of her neck.  “All righty, sweets.”  Another pause.  “You know I’m only doing this because I love you and I think your minimalist urges are cute, right?” 

Maureen turned her head back to look at his big brown eyes and smiled with an impish twinkle.  “You married me for my money and my ass and you know it.” 

He grinned hungrily back at her.  “Not necessarily in that order,” he said, scooping her off her feet and heading towards the bed.  Maureen giggled.

persephone325

"The doctors said it's just something to watch. I have to get biannual CT scans and checkups."
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."

Lilias

The hidey-hole was discovered halfway into the old manor’s renovation project: two bricks had been pried out of the side of the massive parlour fireplace and then covered with the same decorative tiles as the rest of the mantelpiece. Inside, wrapped in several layers of silk and tanned sheepskin and hemp sacking, was a small hoard of jewels--mostly diamonds, but also rubies and sapphires and emeralds, all expertly cut in different styles and worth a fortune. But it was the sheaf of papers included in the bundle, a few yellowed letters in various hands and several pages torn from a journal, dated near 300 years earlier, that made the discovery one worth much more than the price of jewels, because clarifying a historical mystery is priceless.

The letters and journal detailed how, in the tumultuous days of the revolution that had turned the country from a kingdom into a republic, a small group of friends devoted to the royal family had secretly replaced the gems on the crown jewels with counterfeits made of glass, crafted by one of their number who was a skilled jeweller. They had to leave the pearls on, as there was not enough time to make fakes of them as well, but the rest was secreted in the old house, ready to be sold whenever the royals needed passage out of the country.

So that was why, as the history books stated, the leaders of the revolution, finding themselves duped like that when they tried to sell the jewels for their own profit, were so enraged that they melted down the crown and sceptre in public, while the royal family watched from the palace tower where they were confined, then poured everything down a sewer, so that nothing would remain of the symbols of royal power. There was not even a sketch of them to be found anywhere.

The jeweller had later been apprehended, and had died on the rack without betraying where the jewels were hidden. What remained of the royal family were executed shortly afterwards, the new republic plodded on, and few knew or cared about the missing jewels. Which was why everyone seemed at a loss for what to do with them once they were rediscovered. What use were royal jewels without royalty, after all? Even three centuries later, people still seemed incapable to grasp the concept of wealth benefiting everyone, instead of the power-wielding few.
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