dapple \DAP-uhl\, noun:
1. A small contrasting spot or blotch.
2. A mottled appearance, especially of the coat of an animal (as a horse).
transitive verb:
1. To mark with patches of a color or shade; to spot.
intransitive verb:
1. To become dappled.
adjective:
1. Marked with contrasting patches or spots; dappled.
Dapple derives from Old Norse depill, "a spot."
May 1992
Toby flinched at the sound of rubber soles on wet grass. Ever since his dad had started training him to recognize footsteps and different sounds, he’d grown more aware of his surroundings. He knew who those footsteps belonged to; only one person he knew skipped everywhere she went.
“Hiya Toby!”
He didn’t acknowledge the cheerful greeting. He carefully filled in the lines on his sketch of the demon his father had brought home earlier. If he got the drawing right, his dad was going to let him do all the autopsy sketches. He was taking advantage of the light summer breeze and sunshine, plus his father had burned the meatloaf again and the house stank.
Undaunted, Viola sidled closer to Toby. She bumped his elbow, peered over his hunched shoulder. “What’cha doin’?”
“Drawing. Don’t you have someone else to annoy, brat?”
“Nope.” Grape-stained lips pulled back to reveal two rows of even, purple teeth. “Livy and Mom are makin’ dinner, and I dunno where Bas went.”
Toby growled under his breath when she bumped his arm again. He shoved her away and went back to work shading in the Dundalk’s dark fur coat. If he was lucky, Viola would go away when she didn’t get the attention she wanted.
“You’re doin’ it wrong.”
His head drooped forward. Long, blond bangs fell into his eyes. He brushed them off his forehead and glared. Viola merely shrugged and stood on the toes of her pink tennis shoes. She leaned over his arm to point at the picture. Her long, auburn ponytail tickled his nose. He tugged on the neon pink rubber band in retaliation.
“Hey!” She swatted his hands, stuck out her purple tongue.
“I am not doing it wrong, brat.”
“Yes you are.”
“Am not.”
“Are, too.”
“Am. Not.”
She rolled her eyes. “Are, too.”
“I. Am. Not.” His nostrils flared, eyes narrowed as he contemplated dipping inside her mind. A quick change of her thoughts would send her back inside the house and out of his hair.
“Are, too. Are, too. Are, too.” She sucked in a quick breath. “Are, too to infinity!”
He snorted. Was that really supposed to work? Remembering his grandmother’s constant admonitions to be nicer to little kids, he resisted the temptation to alter her thoughts. “It’s fine the way it is, Vi.”
“Nah-huh.” She shook her head. The end of her ponytail lashed his cheek. He slapped two hands on her cheeks to keep her from doing it again.
“What’s wrong with it, then?”
“It’s supposed to have spots. You know, like the horses. White and black spots.”
“Like the horses.” Toby released her face and plopped back on his chair. He didn’t believe Viola, but to humor her he grabbed the book by his feet. With her staring at him intently, he flipped to the correct page.
“See, I told you!” She jabbed a short, pale finger at the picture of a Dundalk before twirling away.
He ignored the girl dancing merrily behind him. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that she’d been right. Rather than a smooth, unmarked coat like he’d been drawing, the Dundalk’s coat was dappled. It was a good thing he’d done the sketch in pencil.
“I was right and you were wrong.” Viola spun around his chair, tugged on his ears. “I was right and you were wrong.”
“Yeah, but you’re still a brat.”
Showing posts with label wotd. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wotd. Show all posts
Monday, April 4, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
WOTD 3-30-11 (September 1997, Duke)
lucre \LOO-kuhr\, noun:
Monetary gain; profit; riches; money; -- often in a bad sense.
September 1997
Duke was screening his phone calls, but for the first time in years it wasn’t to avoid his mother. Hers was actually the one phone call he needed to answer. The five times he’d called her, he’d gotten the answering machine. He’d contemplated leaving a message but hadn’t been sure of the proper etiquette. How did you inform someone that her ex-husband, the man she verbally abused at every opportunity and accused of ruining lives, was dead? He’d had three days to figure it out, but still had nothing.
The house phone rang. Duke remained slumped in the chair. He’d let the machine get it. He was close enough that if it was his mother he could jump up to catch it before she hung up.
“Toby, this is Davey Harris from Fort Worth. Sad, sad news about your father. We’ll be in for the funeral, son. If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask. This is a terrible loss for all of us.”
Duke snorted. He tilted his beer bottle back to drain the last few drops of amber liquid. He’d only met Davey Harris once; his father had hated the slimy bastard. There was nothing he needed from Davey Harris.
“Anyway, son, I was hoping to get a chance to talk you afterwards about a few things. Your father and I had talked about this piece of land he owns outside of McKinney. It’s a small patch, really, but…”
Duke threw his bottle at the answering machine. It slid off the counter and crashed to the floor. Davey Harris’ voice cut-off mid-sentence.
Disgusted with the bottomfeeders who’d come crawling out of the woodwork in search of the lucre that followed a sudden death. He’d had dozens of calls like Harris’. People who wanted his father’s truck, his weapons, and even an offer to buy the house. It made him sick.
The phone rang while he was rooting around in the fridge for another beer. He slammed the door shut with his foot and grabbed the cordless phone. A Florida phone number appeared on the display. His stomach sank. Showtime.
Monetary gain; profit; riches; money; -- often in a bad sense.
September 1997
Duke was screening his phone calls, but for the first time in years it wasn’t to avoid his mother. Hers was actually the one phone call he needed to answer. The five times he’d called her, he’d gotten the answering machine. He’d contemplated leaving a message but hadn’t been sure of the proper etiquette. How did you inform someone that her ex-husband, the man she verbally abused at every opportunity and accused of ruining lives, was dead? He’d had three days to figure it out, but still had nothing.
The house phone rang. Duke remained slumped in the chair. He’d let the machine get it. He was close enough that if it was his mother he could jump up to catch it before she hung up.
“Toby, this is Davey Harris from Fort Worth. Sad, sad news about your father. We’ll be in for the funeral, son. If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask. This is a terrible loss for all of us.”
Duke snorted. He tilted his beer bottle back to drain the last few drops of amber liquid. He’d only met Davey Harris once; his father had hated the slimy bastard. There was nothing he needed from Davey Harris.
“Anyway, son, I was hoping to get a chance to talk you afterwards about a few things. Your father and I had talked about this piece of land he owns outside of McKinney. It’s a small patch, really, but…”
Duke threw his bottle at the answering machine. It slid off the counter and crashed to the floor. Davey Harris’ voice cut-off mid-sentence.
Disgusted with the bottomfeeders who’d come crawling out of the woodwork in search of the lucre that followed a sudden death. He’d had dozens of calls like Harris’. People who wanted his father’s truck, his weapons, and even an offer to buy the house. It made him sick.
The phone rang while he was rooting around in the fridge for another beer. He slammed the door shut with his foot and grabbed the cordless phone. A Florida phone number appeared on the display. His stomach sank. Showtime.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
WOTD - 3-29-11 (December 2000, D, V, O, S)
And you thought you'd seen the last word of the day. Silly reader. Now, I know these are generally short, but I was feeling wordy today.
And now... time for the fiction with a little bit of knowledge (it's like a word of the day calendar with a short story attached)
bedaub \bih-DOB\, transitive verb:
1. To smudge over; to besmear or soil with anything thick and dirty.
2. To overdecorate; to ornament showily or excessively.
Bedaub is from be-, "thoroughly" + daub, from Medieval French dauber, "to plaster," perhaps from Old French dauber, "to clothe in white, white-wash, plaster," from Latin dealbare, "to whitewash, to plaster," from de- (intensive prefix) + albus, "white."
December 2000
Olivia jerked when a warm hand unexpectedly brushed her arm. The smile she flashed her brother didn’t quite reach her eyes. She snuggled against his chest when he slung an arm across her shoulders. His sweatshirt absorbed the tears trickling down her cheeks.
“How long has she been like this?”
Olivia shrugged. She’d spent two days on campus finishing up an extra-credit project, and Sebastian had been busy with end-of-the-semester reports. Neither of them had paid too much attention to their little sister. There was no telling how long Viola had been holed up in her room.
“At least I don’t have to worry about a phone call from her counselor.” Sebastian sighed, ran his fingers through Olivia’s fine, blonde hair. Ever since their father’s disappearance a year earlier, Viola had made a nasty habit out of skipping school. He was on a first name basis with her counselor, principal, and most of her teachers. If she didn’t have to keep up her grades for track eligibility, he feared the problem would be exponentially worse.
“I should go in there.” Despite her declaration, Olivia didn’t move. “I’ll get her in the shower and we can take her out for dinner. I picked up one of those ice cream cakes she loves. I think we’ve got candles in a drawer somewhere. If not, we can run to Walgreens after dinner and…”
Sebastian chuckled, pressed a long finger across Olivia’s lips. “Breathe, Liv. It’ll be okay. I’m sure Vi wants to keep this birthday low-key, anyway.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Duke’s here. He’ll straighten her out.”
“Why is he here? You shouldn’t have called him, Bas. This is a family matter.”
“He got here the same time I did. He was supposed to take Vi out on rotation for her birthday, but she blew him off. He got worried.”
Olivia nodded. She was worried, too. Viola adored both Duke and Tracking. There was no way she’d simply forget about either.
Both turned away from the doorway at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Duke, cradling a large black mug of steaming liquid, bobbed his head in greeting before barging into Viola’s bedroom. Olivia reluctantly followed Sebastian downstairs. She understood the need for privacy, but she wanted to know how Duke could pull Viola out of her funk when nothing else got through to her.
The bedroom was a disaster. Viola wasn’t a neat freak like Olivia, but the room was unusually messy. Duke shoved a stack of books onto the floor and set the mug on the newly-cleared section of desktop. He dragged a chair across the floor and sat beside her. When she didn’t bother acknowledging his presence, he flicked the tip of her nose.
“What do you want, Toby?”
“You can’t go skipping rotation whenever you feel like, Viola. Your partner counts on you to back him up.”
“You’re not my partner.” She didn’t look up from her notebook. “You didn’t even want me to go with you. You only asked because you felt sorry for me.”
“I think you overestimate how much I actually like you.”
“I think you overestimate how much I actually give a damn.” Viola blinked her gritty, dry eyes. She cradled her pen against her thumb and flexed her cramped fingers. “Thanks for the tea. You can leave now.”
Ignoring her profanity-laced protests, Duke lifted the notebook out from under her nose. His heart sank as he flipped through it. Viola’s handwriting was virtually unreadable. In her haste to write down every passing thought, she’d rendered the pages unreadable. She’d bedaubed the paper with ink and what smelled like chocolate.
“What are you working on, Shortcake?”
“Stuff.” Viola tried to snatch her notebook out of his hands. He held it just out of reach. Huffing, she flopped back in her chair and glared.
He was familiar with the desperation and grief swirling in her eyes. He’d felt the same way on the first anniversary of his father’s death. He knew Viola wouldn’t appreciate pity, but he couldn’t help the flash of sympathy. It was a sure bet she was researching her father’s disappearance. He needed to get her mind off her loss.
He leaned back in his chair and propped his ankles on her knee. “I got a call earlier about something eating dogs in Conroe.”
Viola’s pen fell to the desk. Intrigue softened her glare. “Big dogs or little dogs?”
“Two German Shepherds, a Lab, and a pit bull.”
Her nose crinkled. Poor dogs. “ Anything left behind?” She held up a hand when Duke opened his mouth. “Not of the dogs. I mean, any sign of a demon?”
“Dark green slime, or so the homeowners claim.”
“Smells like menthol?”
“Yeah.”
“Aetkc.”
He grinned. No other Tracker-in-training would have figured it out. “You should have heard Max bragging about you at the last meeting. You’d think he could take all the credit for your training.”
Viola rolled her eyes. “You, Granny, and D….” She swallowed, blinked back a flood of tears. “Dad taught me everything I know.”
“Yep, and as a special birthday bonus you get to help me take care of the Aetkc.” He stood up, wriggled his fingers. “I’ll throw you over my shoulder and drag you out of here if I have to, Shortcake.”
“Fine.” She stood for the first time in hours. Her knees wobbled, her head spun. Once she regained her equilibrium, she grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair and led the way into the hall. “Can I drive?”
“Don’t push it, sweetheart.”
And now... time for the fiction with a little bit of knowledge (it's like a word of the day calendar with a short story attached)
bedaub \bih-DOB\, transitive verb:
1. To smudge over; to besmear or soil with anything thick and dirty.
2. To overdecorate; to ornament showily or excessively.
Bedaub is from be-, "thoroughly" + daub, from Medieval French dauber, "to plaster," perhaps from Old French dauber, "to clothe in white, white-wash, plaster," from Latin dealbare, "to whitewash, to plaster," from de- (intensive prefix) + albus, "white."
December 2000
Olivia jerked when a warm hand unexpectedly brushed her arm. The smile she flashed her brother didn’t quite reach her eyes. She snuggled against his chest when he slung an arm across her shoulders. His sweatshirt absorbed the tears trickling down her cheeks.
“How long has she been like this?”
Olivia shrugged. She’d spent two days on campus finishing up an extra-credit project, and Sebastian had been busy with end-of-the-semester reports. Neither of them had paid too much attention to their little sister. There was no telling how long Viola had been holed up in her room.
“At least I don’t have to worry about a phone call from her counselor.” Sebastian sighed, ran his fingers through Olivia’s fine, blonde hair. Ever since their father’s disappearance a year earlier, Viola had made a nasty habit out of skipping school. He was on a first name basis with her counselor, principal, and most of her teachers. If she didn’t have to keep up her grades for track eligibility, he feared the problem would be exponentially worse.
“I should go in there.” Despite her declaration, Olivia didn’t move. “I’ll get her in the shower and we can take her out for dinner. I picked up one of those ice cream cakes she loves. I think we’ve got candles in a drawer somewhere. If not, we can run to Walgreens after dinner and…”
Sebastian chuckled, pressed a long finger across Olivia’s lips. “Breathe, Liv. It’ll be okay. I’m sure Vi wants to keep this birthday low-key, anyway.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Duke’s here. He’ll straighten her out.”
“Why is he here? You shouldn’t have called him, Bas. This is a family matter.”
“He got here the same time I did. He was supposed to take Vi out on rotation for her birthday, but she blew him off. He got worried.”
Olivia nodded. She was worried, too. Viola adored both Duke and Tracking. There was no way she’d simply forget about either.
Both turned away from the doorway at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Duke, cradling a large black mug of steaming liquid, bobbed his head in greeting before barging into Viola’s bedroom. Olivia reluctantly followed Sebastian downstairs. She understood the need for privacy, but she wanted to know how Duke could pull Viola out of her funk when nothing else got through to her.
The bedroom was a disaster. Viola wasn’t a neat freak like Olivia, but the room was unusually messy. Duke shoved a stack of books onto the floor and set the mug on the newly-cleared section of desktop. He dragged a chair across the floor and sat beside her. When she didn’t bother acknowledging his presence, he flicked the tip of her nose.
“What do you want, Toby?”
“You can’t go skipping rotation whenever you feel like, Viola. Your partner counts on you to back him up.”
“You’re not my partner.” She didn’t look up from her notebook. “You didn’t even want me to go with you. You only asked because you felt sorry for me.”
“I think you overestimate how much I actually like you.”
“I think you overestimate how much I actually give a damn.” Viola blinked her gritty, dry eyes. She cradled her pen against her thumb and flexed her cramped fingers. “Thanks for the tea. You can leave now.”
Ignoring her profanity-laced protests, Duke lifted the notebook out from under her nose. His heart sank as he flipped through it. Viola’s handwriting was virtually unreadable. In her haste to write down every passing thought, she’d rendered the pages unreadable. She’d bedaubed the paper with ink and what smelled like chocolate.
“What are you working on, Shortcake?”
“Stuff.” Viola tried to snatch her notebook out of his hands. He held it just out of reach. Huffing, she flopped back in her chair and glared.
He was familiar with the desperation and grief swirling in her eyes. He’d felt the same way on the first anniversary of his father’s death. He knew Viola wouldn’t appreciate pity, but he couldn’t help the flash of sympathy. It was a sure bet she was researching her father’s disappearance. He needed to get her mind off her loss.
He leaned back in his chair and propped his ankles on her knee. “I got a call earlier about something eating dogs in Conroe.”
Viola’s pen fell to the desk. Intrigue softened her glare. “Big dogs or little dogs?”
“Two German Shepherds, a Lab, and a pit bull.”
Her nose crinkled. Poor dogs. “ Anything left behind?” She held up a hand when Duke opened his mouth. “Not of the dogs. I mean, any sign of a demon?”
“Dark green slime, or so the homeowners claim.”
“Smells like menthol?”
“Yeah.”
“Aetkc.”
He grinned. No other Tracker-in-training would have figured it out. “You should have heard Max bragging about you at the last meeting. You’d think he could take all the credit for your training.”
Viola rolled her eyes. “You, Granny, and D….” She swallowed, blinked back a flood of tears. “Dad taught me everything I know.”
“Yep, and as a special birthday bonus you get to help me take care of the Aetkc.” He stood up, wriggled his fingers. “I’ll throw you over my shoulder and drag you out of here if I have to, Shortcake.”
“Fine.” She stood for the first time in hours. Her knees wobbled, her head spun. Once she regained her equilibrium, she grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair and led the way into the hall. “Can I drive?”
“Don’t push it, sweetheart.”
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Break
No, you didn't miss yesterday's WotD. I finished TCC Tuesday night/Wednesday morning and decided I needed a short break. I've saved the words so that I can get caught up. I didn't make it all the way to the last week of October just to give up! Doing TCC edits and rewrites will likely make my eyes bleed and my brain throb, so I'll ease the tension working on a few backstories and requests - don't worry, we're not close to through with these characters. I probably won't start on the last book in the series until January.
Meet Chai.
Meanwhile, I have a cat to mail...
Meet Chai.Tuesday, October 26, 2010
WotD 10/26/10: April 1995 (Duke)
Word of the Day Challenge 10/26/10
Word: Eke; transitive verb
1. To gain or supplement with great effort or difficulty -- used with 'out'.
2. To increase or make last by being economical -- used with 'out'.
Timeline: April 1995 (Duke)
Duke’s eyes drifted shut. He propped his heavy head on his hand and lightly drummed the eraser of his pencil on the desk. It was only second period and he was ready for a nap.
The pencil slid out of his fingers and rolled across the floor. With a sigh, he leaned over the edge of the desk to retrieve it. Not even the sight of Mary Hallimore’s tanned legs did anything to wake him up.
He forced himself to focus on the teacher’s lecture. He couldn’t get caught sleeping in class. He’d promised that Tracking with his father wouldn’t affect his schoolwork. It was a promise he was starting to regret, especially after a long night chasing down a Freldana. There was no way he was going to make it through the rest of the day.
His best bet was to eke out halfway decent homework during lunch and drink a gallon of Mountain Dew before baseball practice. As long as he didn’t get called on or have to do anything more strenuous than breathing, he could eke.
“Put away your notes, it’s time for a pop quiz!”
Duke’s forehead hit his desk. “Oh man, I am so dead.”
Word: Eke; transitive verb
1. To gain or supplement with great effort or difficulty -- used with 'out'.
2. To increase or make last by being economical -- used with 'out'.
Timeline: April 1995 (Duke)
Duke’s eyes drifted shut. He propped his heavy head on his hand and lightly drummed the eraser of his pencil on the desk. It was only second period and he was ready for a nap.
The pencil slid out of his fingers and rolled across the floor. With a sigh, he leaned over the edge of the desk to retrieve it. Not even the sight of Mary Hallimore’s tanned legs did anything to wake him up.
He forced himself to focus on the teacher’s lecture. He couldn’t get caught sleeping in class. He’d promised that Tracking with his father wouldn’t affect his schoolwork. It was a promise he was starting to regret, especially after a long night chasing down a Freldana. There was no way he was going to make it through the rest of the day.
His best bet was to eke out halfway decent homework during lunch and drink a gallon of Mountain Dew before baseball practice. As long as he didn’t get called on or have to do anything more strenuous than breathing, he could eke.
“Put away your notes, it’s time for a pop quiz!”
Duke’s forehead hit his desk. “Oh man, I am so dead.”
Monday, October 25, 2010
WotD 10/25/10: Summer 2002 (Viola, Olivia)
Word of the day 10/25/2010
Word: Juju: noun;
1. An object superstitiously believed to embody magical powers.
2. The power associated with a juju.
Timeline: Summer 2002 (Viola, Olivia)
“Please?” Viola clasped her hands together. She puffed out her lower lip and did her best to look utterly pathetic.
Olivia was unmoved. “No.”
“Pretty, pretty, please?”
“No.”
“Just for a second. I promise. I just want to look around.”
Olivia shook her head resolutely. “Don’t you think demons, ghosts, crazy blood rituals, and Sebastian are enough to deal with? We don’t need you messing around with voodoo juju and making thing worse.”
“I won’t buy anything. I swear.”
“Not going to happen, kiddo.” Olivia shuddered at the mere thought of entering the store. Superstitious by nature, she avoided black cats, open ladders, and breaking mirrors. She didn’t understand how the voodoo rituals worked and wasn’t going to risk accidentally cursing herself.
“You’re no fun, Liv.” Viola scowled at her sister. She was glad to be out of the ghost-infested hotel because her headache was finally going away, but she’d wanted to see more than art museums. Since the cemeteries were off-limits due to her temporary ghost-restriction, the store had seemed like a good choice.
“I’ll talk Sebastian into letting you drive all the way to Pensacola.”
“And I get to pick out the next hotel and dinner?”
“Yes.”
“Deal.”
Word: Juju: noun;
1. An object superstitiously believed to embody magical powers.
2. The power associated with a juju.
Timeline: Summer 2002 (Viola, Olivia)
“Please?” Viola clasped her hands together. She puffed out her lower lip and did her best to look utterly pathetic.
Olivia was unmoved. “No.”
“Pretty, pretty, please?”
“No.”
“Just for a second. I promise. I just want to look around.”
Olivia shook her head resolutely. “Don’t you think demons, ghosts, crazy blood rituals, and Sebastian are enough to deal with? We don’t need you messing around with voodoo juju and making thing worse.”
“I won’t buy anything. I swear.”
“Not going to happen, kiddo.” Olivia shuddered at the mere thought of entering the store. Superstitious by nature, she avoided black cats, open ladders, and breaking mirrors. She didn’t understand how the voodoo rituals worked and wasn’t going to risk accidentally cursing herself.
“You’re no fun, Liv.” Viola scowled at her sister. She was glad to be out of the ghost-infested hotel because her headache was finally going away, but she’d wanted to see more than art museums. Since the cemeteries were off-limits due to her temporary ghost-restriction, the store had seemed like a good choice.
“I’ll talk Sebastian into letting you drive all the way to Pensacola.”
“And I get to pick out the next hotel and dinner?”
“Yes.”
“Deal.”
WotD 10/24/10 - June 1998 (Olivia, Viola, Sebastian, Gerard)
Word of the day 10/24/2010
Word: Slugabed: noun; One who stays in bed until a late hour; a sluggard.
Timeline: June 1998 (Olivia, Viola, Sebastian, Gerard)
A bright beam of sunlight pierced through Olivia’s closed eyelids. With a groan, she rolled over onto her stomach and pulled the sheet over her head. A smaller body shifted beside her. Viola’s icy toes slipped beneath the sheet and grazed her ankle. She kicked at the icy feet.
“Daa-aad!”
Olivia grinned sleepily at Sebastian’s whine. Of the three of them, he’d stayed up the latest watching the horror movie marathon. When she’d woken up to run to the bathroom at three, Viola had been cuddled up and snoring beside a wide-eyed Sebastian.
“Up and at’em my little slugabeds!” Gerard’s booming voice had each of his children wincing. He grabbed the corner of the sheet covering Sebastian’s face and yanked. While Sebastian shielded his eyes, Gerard repeated the action twice more. He chuckled at the sight of his children frantically wriggling away from the sunshine like vampires.
“Lots to do and time’s wasting.”
Viola rose to her knees. She blinked furiously and ran a hand through her hair so that it was standing up in all directions. When the spots were gone from her vision, she glared up at her smiling father. “Daddy! It’s the first day of summer vacation!”
Word: Slugabed: noun; One who stays in bed until a late hour; a sluggard.
Timeline: June 1998 (Olivia, Viola, Sebastian, Gerard)
A bright beam of sunlight pierced through Olivia’s closed eyelids. With a groan, she rolled over onto her stomach and pulled the sheet over her head. A smaller body shifted beside her. Viola’s icy toes slipped beneath the sheet and grazed her ankle. She kicked at the icy feet.
“Daa-aad!”
Olivia grinned sleepily at Sebastian’s whine. Of the three of them, he’d stayed up the latest watching the horror movie marathon. When she’d woken up to run to the bathroom at three, Viola had been cuddled up and snoring beside a wide-eyed Sebastian.
“Up and at’em my little slugabeds!” Gerard’s booming voice had each of his children wincing. He grabbed the corner of the sheet covering Sebastian’s face and yanked. While Sebastian shielded his eyes, Gerard repeated the action twice more. He chuckled at the sight of his children frantically wriggling away from the sunshine like vampires.
“Lots to do and time’s wasting.”
Viola rose to her knees. She blinked furiously and ran a hand through her hair so that it was standing up in all directions. When the spots were gone from her vision, she glared up at her smiling father. “Daddy! It’s the first day of summer vacation!”
WotD 10/23/10 - January 2001 (Gerard, Viola)
Sorry for the delay - spent the weekend with family and was away from my laptop. I wrote this on my phone Saturday night, but couldn't get it to post. Guess I'll have to read the manual again!
Word of the day 10/23/2010
Parse: transitive verb;
1. To resolve (as a sentence) into its component parts of speech with an explanation of the form, function, and syntactical relationship of each part.
2. To describe grammatically by stating its part of speech, form, and syntactical relationships in a sentence.
3. To examine closely or analyze critically, especially by breaking up into components.
4. To make sense of; to comprehend.
5. (Computer Science) To analyze or separate (input, for example) into more easily processed components.
Timeline: January 2001 (Gerard, Viola)
“I've missed you my violet.”
Viola blinked twice and rubbed her eyes. Nothing changed. She pinched her arm, yelped. Not a dream, then.
“Dad?”
“I made the right decision, dearest. You'll see that someday. This was for the best.”
She sat up in bed, too stunned by his presence to parse the meaning of his words. He had been missing for a year, and she'd started to give up hope of ever seeing him again. There were so many things she wanted to tell him, so many questions she needed to ask. Forming words seemed impossible though. She couldn’t believe he was in her room!
“I can't stay long, my violet. I just wanted to see you. It has been a long year, and I fear we are in for several more difficult years.”
“Why?” Why couldn't they go back to normal? Why couldn't he come home? She needed him. Sebastian and Olivia did their best, but they weren't adequate substitutes for her Daddy.
“Neither one of us is ready. I am afraid we must be patient.”
“Patient for what?”
“For it to be our time.”
“Dad?”
“Soon. Until then, keep this between us, my dear. The others won’t understand.”
Word of the day 10/23/2010
Parse: transitive verb;
1. To resolve (as a sentence) into its component parts of speech with an explanation of the form, function, and syntactical relationship of each part.
2. To describe grammatically by stating its part of speech, form, and syntactical relationships in a sentence.
3. To examine closely or analyze critically, especially by breaking up into components.
4. To make sense of; to comprehend.
5. (Computer Science) To analyze or separate (input, for example) into more easily processed components.
Timeline: January 2001 (Gerard, Viola)
“I've missed you my violet.”
Viola blinked twice and rubbed her eyes. Nothing changed. She pinched her arm, yelped. Not a dream, then.
“Dad?”
“I made the right decision, dearest. You'll see that someday. This was for the best.”
She sat up in bed, too stunned by his presence to parse the meaning of his words. He had been missing for a year, and she'd started to give up hope of ever seeing him again. There were so many things she wanted to tell him, so many questions she needed to ask. Forming words seemed impossible though. She couldn’t believe he was in her room!
“I can't stay long, my violet. I just wanted to see you. It has been a long year, and I fear we are in for several more difficult years.”
“Why?” Why couldn't they go back to normal? Why couldn't he come home? She needed him. Sebastian and Olivia did their best, but they weren't adequate substitutes for her Daddy.
“Neither one of us is ready. I am afraid we must be patient.”
“Patient for what?”
“For it to be our time.”
“Dad?”
“Soon. Until then, keep this between us, my dear. The others won’t understand.”
Friday, October 22, 2010
WotD 10/22/10: October 2000 (Sebastian, Viola)
Word of the Day Challenge 10/22/10
Word: Crepuscular;
adj:
1. Of, pertaining to, or resembling twilight; dim.
2. (Zoology) Appearing or active at twilight.
Timeline: October 2000 (Sebastian, Viola)
Sebastian tossed a sheet of paper on the table in front of Viola before sprawling onto the chair beside her. “I need you to look that up, Vi.”
Eyes narrowed in annoyance, Viola studied the rough sketch of a demon. It had four eyes, curved horns, and was covered in wiry hair. She’d never seen a demon like it before. Abandoning her weekend homework, she retrieved her laptop and logged on to Duke’s pride and joy, the regional Network database.
“Duke saw one of those yesterday, but lost it. He’s swamped and didn’t get a chance to look it up.”
“Is this what I am now: your unpaid, unappreciated research assistant?”
“He said I could take you with me to take care of it.”
“Oh.” Viola flashed him a quick grin. “Give me a sec.”
“I hope it doesn’t take too long. I promised Amy I’d take her to watch the sunset or some crap like that.”
“You’re such a romantic, Bas,” Viola teased. She frowned suddenly and twisted her laptop around so he could see the entry for their demon. “I’m afraid you’re going to miss your date. Pflans are crepuscular. We have to catch it just after sunset.”
Word: Crepuscular;
adj:
1. Of, pertaining to, or resembling twilight; dim.
2. (Zoology) Appearing or active at twilight.
Timeline: October 2000 (Sebastian, Viola)
Sebastian tossed a sheet of paper on the table in front of Viola before sprawling onto the chair beside her. “I need you to look that up, Vi.”
Eyes narrowed in annoyance, Viola studied the rough sketch of a demon. It had four eyes, curved horns, and was covered in wiry hair. She’d never seen a demon like it before. Abandoning her weekend homework, she retrieved her laptop and logged on to Duke’s pride and joy, the regional Network database.
“Duke saw one of those yesterday, but lost it. He’s swamped and didn’t get a chance to look it up.”
“Is this what I am now: your unpaid, unappreciated research assistant?”
“He said I could take you with me to take care of it.”
“Oh.” Viola flashed him a quick grin. “Give me a sec.”
“I hope it doesn’t take too long. I promised Amy I’d take her to watch the sunset or some crap like that.”
“You’re such a romantic, Bas,” Viola teased. She frowned suddenly and twisted her laptop around so he could see the entry for their demon. “I’m afraid you’re going to miss your date. Pflans are crepuscular. We have to catch it just after sunset.”
Thursday, October 21, 2010
WotD 10/21/10: June 2003 (Viola, Duke)
Word of the Day Challenge 10/21/10
Word: Coruscate;
Intransitive verb:
1. To give off or reflect bright beams or flashes of light; to sparkle.
2. To exhibit brilliant, sparkling technique or style.
Timeline: June 2003 (Viola, Duke)
Viola wanted to believe it was heartburn from the chili cheese fries. The burning and tingling in her chest wasn’t from the appetizer she’d shared with Duke, though. Ghosts made her shiver and plasma-dependent parasites gave her the hiccups. She felt like a walking demon detector.
“What’s up, Vi?” Duke paused to wait for her to catch up. His hand drifted to the gun tucked in the back of his jeans when she frowned and rubbed her chest. Either she was going to belch loud enough to rattle the windows or there was a PDP around.
“Vampire. Close. Maybe more than one.”
A low growl caused them both to spin around. Three snarling PDPs stood at the entrance to the alley. Viola cocked her head and bit her lip to keep from laughing. Duke’s gun nearly slipped from his hand.
“Is it just me or are they… sparkling?”
“It’s not just you.”
Between Duke’s gun and Viola’s knife, it took only minutes to take out the PDPs. While Duke called for a cleanup crew, Viola dragged a finger along the coruscating vampire’s skin. The pad of her finger sparkled. “Glitter. They’re all coated with glitter!”
“Freaky, even for a demon.”
Word: Coruscate;
Intransitive verb:
1. To give off or reflect bright beams or flashes of light; to sparkle.
2. To exhibit brilliant, sparkling technique or style.
Timeline: June 2003 (Viola, Duke)
Viola wanted to believe it was heartburn from the chili cheese fries. The burning and tingling in her chest wasn’t from the appetizer she’d shared with Duke, though. Ghosts made her shiver and plasma-dependent parasites gave her the hiccups. She felt like a walking demon detector.
“What’s up, Vi?” Duke paused to wait for her to catch up. His hand drifted to the gun tucked in the back of his jeans when she frowned and rubbed her chest. Either she was going to belch loud enough to rattle the windows or there was a PDP around.
“Vampire. Close. Maybe more than one.”
A low growl caused them both to spin around. Three snarling PDPs stood at the entrance to the alley. Viola cocked her head and bit her lip to keep from laughing. Duke’s gun nearly slipped from his hand.
“Is it just me or are they… sparkling?”
“It’s not just you.”
Between Duke’s gun and Viola’s knife, it took only minutes to take out the PDPs. While Duke called for a cleanup crew, Viola dragged a finger along the coruscating vampire’s skin. The pad of her finger sparkled. “Glitter. They’re all coated with glitter!”
“Freaky, even for a demon.”
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
WotD 10/20/10: October 1996 (Olivia, Viola, Sebastian)
Word of the Day Challenge 10/20/10
Word: Antediluvian;
adj:
1. Of or relating to the period before the Biblical flood.
2. Antiquated; from or belonging to a much earlier time
noun:
1. One who lived before the Biblical flood.
2. A very old (or old-fashioned) person.
Timeline: October 1996 (Olivia, Viola, Sebastian)
Olivia was jerked out of her daydream when a foot made contact with her ankle. She rubbed the fresh bruise and glared at her sister. Viola stopped swinging her feet and blushed guiltily.
“Watch it, brat.” Olivia was bored out of her skull. She didn’t need to be bored and in pain.
“Sorry, Liv,” Viola whispered. She glanced over her shoulder at one of the six spirits hovering nearby, shuddered, and shifted closer to Bas. Nervousness made her jittery. She was afraid that if she looked again, she’d see Grandmother Ashwood in the group.
“Oh, come on,” Olivia groaned when a frail, white-haired woman shuffled to the podium. At least six ‘friends’ had gone up to give a eulogy. Did they believe that if enough people claimed Opal Ashwood was a good person it would make it true?
Sebastian leaned across Viola to speak to Olivia. “Is it just me or are all Grandmother’s friends incredibly old?”
“Positively antediluvian.” Olivia smiled to herself, pleased at finally being able to use one of her Pre-SAT vocabulary words.
“Who’s that?” Viola shot Olivia a questioning look. “Auntie Del Uvian? I didn’t meet her.”
Olivia stifled a giggle. “It means they’re ancient, kiddo.”
Word: Antediluvian;
adj:
1. Of or relating to the period before the Biblical flood.
2. Antiquated; from or belonging to a much earlier time
noun:
1. One who lived before the Biblical flood.
2. A very old (or old-fashioned) person.
Timeline: October 1996 (Olivia, Viola, Sebastian)
Olivia was jerked out of her daydream when a foot made contact with her ankle. She rubbed the fresh bruise and glared at her sister. Viola stopped swinging her feet and blushed guiltily.
“Watch it, brat.” Olivia was bored out of her skull. She didn’t need to be bored and in pain.
“Sorry, Liv,” Viola whispered. She glanced over her shoulder at one of the six spirits hovering nearby, shuddered, and shifted closer to Bas. Nervousness made her jittery. She was afraid that if she looked again, she’d see Grandmother Ashwood in the group.
“Oh, come on,” Olivia groaned when a frail, white-haired woman shuffled to the podium. At least six ‘friends’ had gone up to give a eulogy. Did they believe that if enough people claimed Opal Ashwood was a good person it would make it true?
Sebastian leaned across Viola to speak to Olivia. “Is it just me or are all Grandmother’s friends incredibly old?”
“Positively antediluvian.” Olivia smiled to herself, pleased at finally being able to use one of her Pre-SAT vocabulary words.
“Who’s that?” Viola shot Olivia a questioning look. “Auntie Del Uvian? I didn’t meet her.”
Olivia stifled a giggle. “It means they’re ancient, kiddo.”
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
WotD 10/19/10: September 2001 (Viola, Aggie)
Word of the Day Challenge 10/19/10
Word: Viand; noun: An article of food, now usually of a choice or delicate kind.
Timeline: September 2001 (Viola, Aggie)
Viola shifted uncomfortably. The presence of a demon didn’t bother her. She’d been around enough of the Network’s allies to not be afraid of them. Her irritation was physical. Her big toe itched but, because of the thigh-to-ankle cast on that leg she couldn’t reach it.
She smiled apologetically at Aggie and swung her leg onto the chair beside her. Using the tip of her pencil, she stretched forward and scratched her sock-covered toe. Movement from a corner of Aggie’s yard caught her attention. She watched a small Siamese kitten jump from the top of the fence to a tree limb and then onto the grass.
“Kitty!” she squealed happily, something she would later blame on the pain reliever Aggie slipped in her drink.
The Zerndi turned towards where Viola was pointing. Its three eyes lit up. Its long, black tongue darted out to lick thin lips and it murmured softly to itself.
Viola shuddered when she found the right entry in her translation guide. The Zerndi had called the kitten a viand. Her eyes slid to the “treats” the demon had brought to tea. If cats were a Zerndi delicacy, there was no telling what was on the tray.
Word: Viand; noun: An article of food, now usually of a choice or delicate kind.
Timeline: September 2001 (Viola, Aggie)
Viola shifted uncomfortably. The presence of a demon didn’t bother her. She’d been around enough of the Network’s allies to not be afraid of them. Her irritation was physical. Her big toe itched but, because of the thigh-to-ankle cast on that leg she couldn’t reach it.
She smiled apologetically at Aggie and swung her leg onto the chair beside her. Using the tip of her pencil, she stretched forward and scratched her sock-covered toe. Movement from a corner of Aggie’s yard caught her attention. She watched a small Siamese kitten jump from the top of the fence to a tree limb and then onto the grass.
“Kitty!” she squealed happily, something she would later blame on the pain reliever Aggie slipped in her drink.
The Zerndi turned towards where Viola was pointing. Its three eyes lit up. Its long, black tongue darted out to lick thin lips and it murmured softly to itself.
Viola shuddered when she found the right entry in her translation guide. The Zerndi had called the kitten a viand. Her eyes slid to the “treats” the demon had brought to tea. If cats were a Zerndi delicacy, there was no telling what was on the tray.
Monday, October 18, 2010
WotD 10/18/10 - September 1997 (Duke, Abelardo)
Word of the Day Challenge 10/18/10
Word: laconic; adj: Using or marked by the use of a minimum of words; brief and pithy; brusque.
Timeline: September 1997 (Duke, Abelardo)
“Here you go.” Duke swallowed the lump of what felt like ground glass lodged in his throat and handed the file folder to Abelardo. His bloodshot, swollen eyes burned with fresh tears. “It’s my final report.”
“Sebastian already turned his in. You didn’t have to do it, son.” Abelardo’s frown deepened at the way Duke winced at the word ‘son.’ He clapped the younger man on the shoulder and squeezed. “Go on and see your grandmother. Leave this to us for now.”
Duke stared at his feet for a moment before nodding. He knew he needed to pull himself together and take over the Network like his father would have wanted, but it was hard. The overwhelming need for vengeance had kept him from focusing on the heartache, but now that his father’s killer was dead, there was nothing left to distract him.
With somber eyes, Abelardo watched Duke trudge out of the house. He waited until Duke’s taillights disappeared around the corner to open the file. Since Sebastian Aswhood’s report had been four pages long, he’d expected at least six from a detail-obsessed Duke rather than a single sheet. The unusually laconic report contained only the words: “Target terminated.”
Word: laconic; adj: Using or marked by the use of a minimum of words; brief and pithy; brusque.
Timeline: September 1997 (Duke, Abelardo)
“Here you go.” Duke swallowed the lump of what felt like ground glass lodged in his throat and handed the file folder to Abelardo. His bloodshot, swollen eyes burned with fresh tears. “It’s my final report.”
“Sebastian already turned his in. You didn’t have to do it, son.” Abelardo’s frown deepened at the way Duke winced at the word ‘son.’ He clapped the younger man on the shoulder and squeezed. “Go on and see your grandmother. Leave this to us for now.”
Duke stared at his feet for a moment before nodding. He knew he needed to pull himself together and take over the Network like his father would have wanted, but it was hard. The overwhelming need for vengeance had kept him from focusing on the heartache, but now that his father’s killer was dead, there was nothing left to distract him.
With somber eyes, Abelardo watched Duke trudge out of the house. He waited until Duke’s taillights disappeared around the corner to open the file. Since Sebastian Aswhood’s report had been four pages long, he’d expected at least six from a detail-obsessed Duke rather than a single sheet. The unusually laconic report contained only the words: “Target terminated.”
Sunday, October 17, 2010
WotD 10/17/10 -- January 1975 (Gerard, Alicia, Hattie, Warwick Burke)
Word of the Day Challenge – 10/17/10
Word: Fulsome: adj;
1. Offensive to the taste or sensibilities.
2. Insincere or excessively lavish; especially, offensive from excess of praise.
Timeline: January 1975 (Gerard, Alicia, Hattie, Warwick Burke)
“Gerard, darling, could you come here, please?”
At his aunt’s call, Gerard set down his book and ambled into the foyer. Sharp hazel eyes studied the girl standing between his father and Hattie. With long blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and an attractive figure she should have been pretty. The drab skirt, matronly blouse, and pearls around her slim neck reminded him too much of his mother for him to consider her worthy of a second glance.
“Darling, this is Alicia Ashwood. Her family has quite the reputation in the Network, and she is a very gifted seer.” Hattie curved an arm around Alicia’s shoulder and thrust her toward Gerard. “She was president of her school’s Future Homemakers of America club. She’s top of her class at Texas Woman’s University. Can you believe a pretty, smart girl like Alicia has been right under our noses this entire time?”
Gerard arched an eyebrow. His blunt aunt wasn’t one for fulsome flattery. A quick glance at Alicia’s flushed cheeks had him frowning. He’d foolishly hoped she’d see past Hattie’s glowing praise and put an end to the matchmaking.
“She’s everything we’ve been looking for, son,” Warwick added, eyes bright with glee. “Everything.”
Word: Fulsome: adj;
1. Offensive to the taste or sensibilities.
2. Insincere or excessively lavish; especially, offensive from excess of praise.
Timeline: January 1975 (Gerard, Alicia, Hattie, Warwick Burke)
“Gerard, darling, could you come here, please?”
At his aunt’s call, Gerard set down his book and ambled into the foyer. Sharp hazel eyes studied the girl standing between his father and Hattie. With long blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and an attractive figure she should have been pretty. The drab skirt, matronly blouse, and pearls around her slim neck reminded him too much of his mother for him to consider her worthy of a second glance.
“Darling, this is Alicia Ashwood. Her family has quite the reputation in the Network, and she is a very gifted seer.” Hattie curved an arm around Alicia’s shoulder and thrust her toward Gerard. “She was president of her school’s Future Homemakers of America club. She’s top of her class at Texas Woman’s University. Can you believe a pretty, smart girl like Alicia has been right under our noses this entire time?”
Gerard arched an eyebrow. His blunt aunt wasn’t one for fulsome flattery. A quick glance at Alicia’s flushed cheeks had him frowning. He’d foolishly hoped she’d see past Hattie’s glowing praise and put an end to the matchmaking.
“She’s everything we’ve been looking for, son,” Warwick added, eyes bright with glee. “Everything.”
Saturday, October 16, 2010
WotD 10/16/10 - Fall 2002 (Sebastian, Olivia, Viola)
Word of the Day Challenge – 10/16/10
Word: Ineffable: adj;
1. Incapable of being expressed in words; unspeakable; unutterable; indescribable.
2. Not to be uttered; taboo.
Timeline: Fall 2002 (Sebastian, Olivia, Viola)
“Does it look like the demon’s following a particular path?” Sebastian squinted, stared at the map, and then held out to Olivia. “I can’t see any patterns in his movements.”
“No, it looks like the demon’s… wandering, I guess.”
“He has a name,” Viola said from her spot on one of the motel room’s beds. She rested her injured arm on a pillow. Listening to them talk about their demon-possessed father like he was just any old demon drove her absolutely crazy. Did they think that playing pretend made things easier?
“What was that, Vi?”
“He’s got a name,” she repeated. “You keep calling him ‘the demon,’ but we learned his name two weeks ago. Can’t you just call him El - .”
“No!” Sebastian leapt across the room and slapped a hand across Viola’s mouth to stop her before she uttered the name he’d declared ineffable weeks earlier. “We don’t call him by his name, Viola. We don’t know what it would do.”
Viola engaged Sebastian in a staring contest. Sebastian broke first, but Viola nodded in concession. To keep the peace, she’d refrain from speaking the demon’s name out loud, no matter how stupid a rule it was.
Word: Ineffable: adj;
1. Incapable of being expressed in words; unspeakable; unutterable; indescribable.
2. Not to be uttered; taboo.
Timeline: Fall 2002 (Sebastian, Olivia, Viola)
“Does it look like the demon’s following a particular path?” Sebastian squinted, stared at the map, and then held out to Olivia. “I can’t see any patterns in his movements.”
“No, it looks like the demon’s… wandering, I guess.”
“He has a name,” Viola said from her spot on one of the motel room’s beds. She rested her injured arm on a pillow. Listening to them talk about their demon-possessed father like he was just any old demon drove her absolutely crazy. Did they think that playing pretend made things easier?
“What was that, Vi?”
“He’s got a name,” she repeated. “You keep calling him ‘the demon,’ but we learned his name two weeks ago. Can’t you just call him El - .”
“No!” Sebastian leapt across the room and slapped a hand across Viola’s mouth to stop her before she uttered the name he’d declared ineffable weeks earlier. “We don’t call him by his name, Viola. We don’t know what it would do.”
Viola engaged Sebastian in a staring contest. Sebastian broke first, but Viola nodded in concession. To keep the peace, she’d refrain from speaking the demon’s name out loud, no matter how stupid a rule it was.
Friday, October 15, 2010
WotD 10/15/10 - August 2001 (Duke, Viola, Sebastian)
Sorry it's terrible, my brain doesn't often function properly when I'm sick. Blame the person who gave me their cold!
Word of the Day Challenge – 10/15/10
Word: Smithereens: noun; Small pieces; bits.
Timeline: August 2001 (Sebastian, Viola, Duke)
“Honeys, I’m home!” Viola called out as she gracelessly maneuvered through the front door. She’d seen Duke’s truck in the driveway so she knew Sebastian wasn’t home alone.
“Hey, kiddo.” Sebastian dashed out of the kitchen and took her backpack from her and led the way to the kitchen. “How was the first day back?”
“Absolutely terrible.”
Duke’s face darkened. “Any of the kids giving you a hard time?”
“Nah.” Even if they were, she wouldn’t tell either of them. She could handle a little bullying on her own. “I had to answer a ton of questions from the counselor, sign away my firstborn to get an elevator key, and my track coach refuses to talk to me. To top it all off, you two are about to go on rotation, and I’ll be stuck here with Olivia. This really sucks, you know.”
“Next time you’ll think twice about doing acrobatics on the back of Duke’s truck and smashing your leg to smithereens, huh?”
As she’d only done it to avoid a demon Bas had accidentally sent her way, she glared at him. She shook one of her crutches threateningly. “C’mere so I can smash you to smithereens, insensitive jerk.”
Word of the Day Challenge – 10/15/10
Word: Smithereens: noun; Small pieces; bits.
Timeline: August 2001 (Sebastian, Viola, Duke)
“Honeys, I’m home!” Viola called out as she gracelessly maneuvered through the front door. She’d seen Duke’s truck in the driveway so she knew Sebastian wasn’t home alone.
“Hey, kiddo.” Sebastian dashed out of the kitchen and took her backpack from her and led the way to the kitchen. “How was the first day back?”
“Absolutely terrible.”
Duke’s face darkened. “Any of the kids giving you a hard time?”
“Nah.” Even if they were, she wouldn’t tell either of them. She could handle a little bullying on her own. “I had to answer a ton of questions from the counselor, sign away my firstborn to get an elevator key, and my track coach refuses to talk to me. To top it all off, you two are about to go on rotation, and I’ll be stuck here with Olivia. This really sucks, you know.”
“Next time you’ll think twice about doing acrobatics on the back of Duke’s truck and smashing your leg to smithereens, huh?”
As she’d only done it to avoid a demon Bas had accidentally sent her way, she glared at him. She shook one of her crutches threateningly. “C’mere so I can smash you to smithereens, insensitive jerk.”
Thursday, October 14, 2010
WotD 10/14/10 - April 1989 (Viola, Gerard)
Word of the Day Challenge 10/14/10
Word: hopscotch:
Verb; To journey quickly and directly from one usually far place to another.
Noun; A children's game in which a player tosses or kicks an object into one of several numbered sections of a diagram marked on the ground.
Verb; To move or pass through something, as a geographical area or a field of endeavor, making many brief stops.
Timeline: April 1989 (Viola, Gerard)
Viola twisted her fingers together and smiled hesistantly at the girl beside her. “That’s a pretty dress.”
The girl in the pink, ruffled dress continued to stare at her sad eyes. Viola sighed softly and swung her feet. She was so bored. They were at the park for Sebastian’s birthday and none of the boys wanted to play with her. Bas said she was too little and Toby said she was a big baby. She’d kicked him in the shins for that one. Her father had put her in time out, but he’d been smiling when he did it so she knew she wasn’t really in trouble.
“D’you wanna play tag?”
The girl shook her head.
“Who’re you talking to, my violet?”
“The girl, Daddy.”
“What girl?”
“The one sittin’ next to me!”
He couldn’t see anyone sitting beside Viola, but that wasn’t surprising. The park was over a hundred years old. It was likely to be haunted by at least one spirit. He’d have to work with Viola on learning the difference between ghosts and real people. “Well, have fun, darling.”
Viola sighed again. Her eyes slid back to the silent girl. “Do you know how to play hopscotch?”
Word: hopscotch:
Verb; To journey quickly and directly from one usually far place to another.
Noun; A children's game in which a player tosses or kicks an object into one of several numbered sections of a diagram marked on the ground.
Verb; To move or pass through something, as a geographical area or a field of endeavor, making many brief stops.
Timeline: April 1989 (Viola, Gerard)
Viola twisted her fingers together and smiled hesistantly at the girl beside her. “That’s a pretty dress.”
The girl in the pink, ruffled dress continued to stare at her sad eyes. Viola sighed softly and swung her feet. She was so bored. They were at the park for Sebastian’s birthday and none of the boys wanted to play with her. Bas said she was too little and Toby said she was a big baby. She’d kicked him in the shins for that one. Her father had put her in time out, but he’d been smiling when he did it so she knew she wasn’t really in trouble.
“D’you wanna play tag?”
The girl shook her head.
“Who’re you talking to, my violet?”
“The girl, Daddy.”
“What girl?”
“The one sittin’ next to me!”
He couldn’t see anyone sitting beside Viola, but that wasn’t surprising. The park was over a hundred years old. It was likely to be haunted by at least one spirit. He’d have to work with Viola on learning the difference between ghosts and real people. “Well, have fun, darling.”
Viola sighed again. Her eyes slid back to the silent girl. “Do you know how to play hopscotch?”
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
WotD 10/13/10 - January 2002 (Olivia, Viola)
Word of the Day Challenge 10/13/10
Word: apocopate: verb; To omit the final sound or sounds of (a word).
Timeline: January 2002 (Viola, Olivia)
“Sit an’ talk with me, Viola.”
Viola dumped her backpack on the floor, eyed the stack of envelopes on the table in front of Olivia, and sighed. She thought she’d hidden those letters, but someone had been snooping in her room. She plopped onto the chair across from Olivia and propped her head on her hand. “What’s up, Livy?”
“You…” Olivia hiccupped, pressed a hand against her chest and grimaced. “You got into all the schools you 'plied for: Rice, Baylor, UT, A&M.”
“Yeah. So?”
Olivia took a long drink from her cup. The liquor burned its way down her throat. “But you wanna go t’ U of H? Wha’ for? Don’ you know what you’re wastin’?”
Viola grabbed the cup and tasted its contents. Vodka. She should have known by the way Olivia apocopated. The English major usually never used anything less than perfect enunciation. “U of H has a distance education program that’s perfect for the amount of traveling and Tracking we do. It was good enough for Duke and Sebastian.”
“Dad ruined you an’ you don’ see it. You deserve more than this.”
“What if it’s all I want, Liv? What if this is all I need?”
Word: apocopate: verb; To omit the final sound or sounds of (a word).
Timeline: January 2002 (Viola, Olivia)
“Sit an’ talk with me, Viola.”
Viola dumped her backpack on the floor, eyed the stack of envelopes on the table in front of Olivia, and sighed. She thought she’d hidden those letters, but someone had been snooping in her room. She plopped onto the chair across from Olivia and propped her head on her hand. “What’s up, Livy?”
“You…” Olivia hiccupped, pressed a hand against her chest and grimaced. “You got into all the schools you 'plied for: Rice, Baylor, UT, A&M.”
“Yeah. So?”
Olivia took a long drink from her cup. The liquor burned its way down her throat. “But you wanna go t’ U of H? Wha’ for? Don’ you know what you’re wastin’?”
Viola grabbed the cup and tasted its contents. Vodka. She should have known by the way Olivia apocopated. The English major usually never used anything less than perfect enunciation. “U of H has a distance education program that’s perfect for the amount of traveling and Tracking we do. It was good enough for Duke and Sebastian.”
“Dad ruined you an’ you don’ see it. You deserve more than this.”
“What if it’s all I want, Liv? What if this is all I need?”
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
WotD 10/12/10 Spring 2000 (Sebastian)
Word of the Day Challenge 10/12/10
Word: Retrograde: adj;
1. Having a backward motion or direction; retiring or retreating.
2. Inverse or reversed, as order.
3. Exhibiting degeneration or deterioration.
Timeline: Spring 2000 (Sebastian)
“I’m afraid there has been some retrograde progress in your mother’s condition.”
Sebastian nodded sharply at Dr. Barnes, his eyes on the woman on the other side of the plexiglass window. It was obvious that his mother was getting worse. After only a small improvement thanks to new medication, she was back to slapping food out of people’s hands and claiming she’d been betrayed by a demon.
He and his sisters had known for years that their mother had an unhealthy dependency on their father and a history of mental illness. According to their late grandmother, Alicia Ashwood had always been a little… delicate. The true depth of her sickness, however, had been masked by Gerard’s constant presence. With him gone, she’d dived head-first into insanity.
“We’ll keep her for seventy-two hours and monitor her behavior. Afterwards we can discuss whether or not she should receive inpatient treatment. I know this is hard, but it’s for the best. She hasn’t harmed anyone yet, but the potential for a violent outburst does exist.”
Sebastian shivered. He’d seen the way Alicia looked at Viola sometimes. There was no doubt in his mind that his mother would go for her first. “I understand.”
Word: Retrograde: adj;
1. Having a backward motion or direction; retiring or retreating.
2. Inverse or reversed, as order.
3. Exhibiting degeneration or deterioration.
Timeline: Spring 2000 (Sebastian)
“I’m afraid there has been some retrograde progress in your mother’s condition.”
Sebastian nodded sharply at Dr. Barnes, his eyes on the woman on the other side of the plexiglass window. It was obvious that his mother was getting worse. After only a small improvement thanks to new medication, she was back to slapping food out of people’s hands and claiming she’d been betrayed by a demon.
He and his sisters had known for years that their mother had an unhealthy dependency on their father and a history of mental illness. According to their late grandmother, Alicia Ashwood had always been a little… delicate. The true depth of her sickness, however, had been masked by Gerard’s constant presence. With him gone, she’d dived head-first into insanity.
“We’ll keep her for seventy-two hours and monitor her behavior. Afterwards we can discuss whether or not she should receive inpatient treatment. I know this is hard, but it’s for the best. She hasn’t harmed anyone yet, but the potential for a violent outburst does exist.”
Sebastian shivered. He’d seen the way Alicia looked at Viola sometimes. There was no doubt in his mind that his mother would go for her first. “I understand.”
Monday, October 11, 2010
WotD 10/11/10 - January 2008 (Sebastian)
Word of the Day Challenge 10/11/10
Word: Nepenthe: noun;
1. A drug or drink, or the plant yielding it, mentioned by ancient writers as having the power to bring forgetfulness of sorrow or trouble.
2. Anything inducing a pleasurable sensation of forgetfulness, esp. of sorrow or trouble.
Timeline: January 2008 (Sebastian)
He bit down on his tongue until blood filled his mouth. The pain didn’t stop the images from flashing in his brain. He couldn’t say what triggered the latest vision. It could have been his coffee mug, the classical music CD, the t-shirt he was wearing. It was completely impossible to separate her from his life.
The damned visions had been useful for hunting down demons, but when it came the one person in the world who meant everything to him, they’d let him down. As they’d prepared for the big faceoff, there hadn’t been the slightest hint that something would go wrong. He’d touched her, lord how he’d touched her, but not a single vision had flashed before his eyes.
Leaving his sisters and the Network had been so easy, but the worthless visions were still there. Fury filling him, he stalked towards the wooden box he’d stolen from his parents’ house and intended to burn. Finding one of Viola’s herbal remedy books, he flipped through the index until he found the listing for nepenthes. If he was going to be stuck with visions for the rest of his life, he’d be damned before he remembered a single one.
Word: Nepenthe: noun;
1. A drug or drink, or the plant yielding it, mentioned by ancient writers as having the power to bring forgetfulness of sorrow or trouble.
2. Anything inducing a pleasurable sensation of forgetfulness, esp. of sorrow or trouble.
Timeline: January 2008 (Sebastian)
He bit down on his tongue until blood filled his mouth. The pain didn’t stop the images from flashing in his brain. He couldn’t say what triggered the latest vision. It could have been his coffee mug, the classical music CD, the t-shirt he was wearing. It was completely impossible to separate her from his life.
The damned visions had been useful for hunting down demons, but when it came the one person in the world who meant everything to him, they’d let him down. As they’d prepared for the big faceoff, there hadn’t been the slightest hint that something would go wrong. He’d touched her, lord how he’d touched her, but not a single vision had flashed before his eyes.
Leaving his sisters and the Network had been so easy, but the worthless visions were still there. Fury filling him, he stalked towards the wooden box he’d stolen from his parents’ house and intended to burn. Finding one of Viola’s herbal remedy books, he flipped through the index until he found the listing for nepenthes. If he was going to be stuck with visions for the rest of his life, he’d be damned before he remembered a single one.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)