Word: Vellicate

 

vellicate

[ vel-i-keyt ]

 

verb (used with object), vel·li·cat·ed, vel·li·cat·ing.

1. to pluck; twitch.

2. to nip, pinch, or the like.

3. to cause to twitch.

verb (used without object), vel·li·cat·ed, vel·li·cat·ing.

4. to move with spasmodic convulsions; twitch.

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               The tattoo gun hummed as it got closer to Adam’s skin. Sweat beaded up on his forehead and he watched the device with wide eyes. As the tattoo artist got closer, Adam’s lips began to twitch and he squeezed the armrest in a white knuckle grip. Just before needle met skin, he flinched. The artist stopped and backed away.

               The woman sighed. “Hold still, okay? Otherwise this is gonna get ugly.”

               “S-sorry.” Adam said. “It’s just my first time, you know?”

               “Uh-uh.” The artist looked uninterested. She had probably heard that hundreds of times. And from the amount of tattoos she had, had obviously been in his position and gotten through it. “Look, it’s not as bad as TV says it is. Just a little pinching feeling.”

               “Okay, sorry.”

               Adam’s girlfriend, Nicki, clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from saying anything. Or laughing at his current state of distress. The tattoo gun started again and moved in towards Adam’s upper arm, where three yellow triangles with intricate symbols on them was drawn. But once again, he flinched away from the needle.

               “Look, if you don’t want to get this then just say so.” The artist said. “These things aren’t cheap and there’s a lot more guys out there who do want to be here.”

               “N-no, no. I, I really do want this.” Adam insisted.

               “Hey, you got, like a strap or something?” Nicki asked. “Like, tie down his arm?” Adam shot her a look that did not quite reach the status of a glare.

               “Can’t do that. Wish I could, but no go. Just take a few deep breaths, close your eyes and let me work.”

               “Sorry.” Adam said again. His voice had gone up half an octave.

               This time, when he flinched, the artist clicked her tongue and looked about ready to kick him out. Either that, or keep going and let his twitchy reaction mess up his tattoo for her. Adam apologized and much as he possibly could.

               “Hey!” Nicki said, cutting him off. “I’ve got an idea. Do you know anything about what the tattoo he’s getting means?” She asked the artist.

               She looked at the sketch she had made on his arm. “Nope. Can’t say I have. Seems like some mystical mumbo-jumbo, but hey, if that’s what he wants, it’s his money. I just put it there.”

               Nicki moved behind Adam, preventing him from seeing her slip the artist a pair of earplugs. Nor did he see her miming putting them in, or the artist doing so with a very confused look on her face.

               “Well then, how about you tell her all about it.” Nicki said. “In fact, why don’t you start at the very beginning of the lore surrounding it. Maybe that’ll give her a deeper appreciation for what you want and make her do a better job.”

               “I don’t know if it works like that, but I can tell her.” Adam said. “This is called the Triforce, and it’s an object of ultimate power.” He intoned. Then he began talking.

               He talked without pause or interruption. His mind was focused on one task, and that was delivering the lore of his favorite video game series. He was so focused on that one task that he barely noticed the pain in his arm from the tattoo gun. So long did he talk, that he kept going all through the application of the tattoo. Well, most of it. The artist was putting the final touches on the tattoo when he stopped.

               When he did, his grip on the armrest tightened and he let out a pained whimper. But he held still. He held on until the artist finished and wiped away the excess ink from the now complete tattoo.

               “There you go, all done.” She said. “Now there’s a lot you gotta do to care for this. I can either give you the rundown or give you a website that gives you a pretty good job of telling you that stuff.”

               “I think the website will be better.” Nicki said.

               “That was more than a pinch.” Adam said weakly, nursing his arm.

               “Does it matter?” Nicki asked. “You got through it. Now let’s pay up, get all the info, and head out.”

               He nodded weakly and looked at his new tattoo. He had to admit, it looked pretty cool. And maybe even worth the pain of getting it.

*****************************

If you're wondering, the tattoo would look something like this, except done mostly in yellow:

And yes, the game series it's from, Legend of Zelda, does have that much lore. So much so that it becomes confusing. Time travel features prominently. That alone should tell you how complex it gets.

Word: Syzygy

 

syzygy

[ siz-i-jee ]

 

noun, plural syz·y·gies.

1. Astronomy. an alignment of three celestial objects, as the sun, the earth, and either the moon or a planet: Syzygy in the sun-earth-moon system occurs at the time of full moon and new moon.

2. Classical Prosody. a group or combination of two feet, sometimes restricted to a combination of two feet of different kinds.

3. any two related things, either alike or opposite.

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               The leader held his hands up to the night sky and chanted. His followers intoned the ancient words in time with his. The great crystal stood, bathed in the moonlight, ready to absorb the energies that would soon be brought to bear upon it. The leader of the small cult finished the chant. It was almost time.

               “Brothers,” He heard a throat clearing from one of the members towards the back. “And sister. Now is a great time. Now is the moment of our apotheosis. Our rise to glory! In accordance with the ancient prophesy, this moment, when the stars and planets are in perfect alignment. The crystal shall bath in their combined power and grant it to us, the divine stone’s chosen!”

               His followers cheered. It was a weak cheer though. They lacked his dedication to the cause. He knew they all believed in the prophesy, otherwise they would not be here. Perhaps they were simply nervous. They had been waiting for this moment for so long, that it was understandable. But there was nothing to be nervous about. He had read and reread the prophesy so many times that he had memorized it. Everything was perfect.

               The clock struck midnight. It was time.

               “Behold! The hour is upon us! The planets are aligned and the power shall rain down upon us, gathering in the divine crystal!”

               He turned to the large stone and spread his arms out wide, embracing the rush of power he would no doubt feel.

               Nothing happened.

               Not even a glow appeared. He heard one of his followers cough nervously.

               “Is…something supposed to happen?” One of them asked.

               “I…I’m sure it’s just charging.” The leader said. “It’s been so long, after all. Yes, I’m sure any minute now we’ll be flooded with power from the heavens.”

               “Hey, uh, I know this is a bad time,” Another cult member said, “But I’ve been thinking. Why would a planetary alignment cause any abnormal amount of energy? Plus, by what metric are they aligned? A viewer on, say, another planet wouldn’t see them lining up. And why would a lump of quartz hold any power at all, let alone distribute it to a select group of people.”

               “Uh, well, it’s very complicated. The prophesy didn’t really go into all that.”

               “Wait, hold on.” The lone woman amongst them said, “Uh, quick question, but is that whole prophesy thing real? Because I thought this was just a dedicated LARP group.”

               Several other members agreed with her. The leader looked at those gathered with wide eyes.

               “LARP? You thought this was a…a game?”

               “Well, yeah. I mean, you’re here talking about magic crystals and ancient prophesies. What else was I going to think?”

               “That it was a gateway to power beyond mortal comprehension?”

               “Hold on, you actually believe that?” A third cult member said. “Like, you unironically believe a big lump of rock will give you powers just because the planets happen to be a specific place?”

               “Well, yes. Of course.”

               Most of the cultists groaned. Several questioned his sanity. Most just took their ceremonial robes off and turned to leave.

               “Wait! Where are you going? I’m sure it’ll happen any moment now!” He called after them.

               But it was too later. They were leaving. Every man—and woman—that he had thought were loyal, true believers had abandoned him. Their cause. The power that he was sure was coming. Well, he would show them. They would regret leaving him. He sat, back to the divine crystal, and waited for the rush of power he was sure was coming.

              **************************************

Sometimes I think it'd be cool if stuff like magic crystals and stuff was real. Then I remember what people are like and I figure off we're better off without that kind of thing.

Word: Superannuated

 

superannuated

[ soo-per-an-yoo-ey-tid ]

 

adjective

1. retired because of age or infirmity.

2. too old for use, work, service, or a position.

3. antiquated or obsolete: superannuated ideas.

***********************************

               The old steam engine rolled to a stop. Its wheels clanked, its engine sputtered and groaned. The bolts were worn to near breaking. Even the paint looked like it was giving up on life. Ted sighed as he watched it come to a stop. He dreaded the conversation he was about to have.

               An old man struggled out of the old train, looking every bit as worn as the machine was. Ted rushed to help him get out without hurting himself.

               “Oh stop it. I’m not that old.” The engineer said. His voice was as rough and worn as the rest of him.

               “Hate to say it, dad, but yes, you are.” Ted winced even as he said it. “You shouldn’t even be out here. And you definitely shouldn’t be riding in that thing.” He nodded towards the train.

               “Why not? It runs just fine.”

               “Dad, it’s falling apart.”

               “No it’s not. It’s doing just fine. Mark my words, Teddy, this beauty will outlast both of us.”

               Ted’s face contorted in concern as he helped his father get to the nearest place to sit. This was the part he dreaded.

               “Dad, you need to retire it. It’s too old to run for much longer. All the engineers I’ve talked to wonder how it’s still running at all.”

               “Oh don’t listen to those rookies. They wouldn’t know good engineering if it bit them. She runs better than those new trains ever will.” The old man puffed himself up with pride as much as his frail frame would allow.

               “I’m just worried is all. It could fall apart at any moment. And if you’re inside of it when that happens?”

               “It won’t. And even if it does, that’s fine. If I die on the rails, I’ll consider that a fine death.”

               Ted did not want to hear his dad talking about his death. Intellectually, he knew it was going to happen. Probably within the next few years. But emotionally, he wanted nothing to do with it.

               “I’d rather you spend time with Lisa and Chris than with an outdated train engine.”

               “Why not both? I can take them for a ride. I’m sure they’ll love it.”

               “Dad, I am not letting my kids on something that can break at any moment.”

               The old man looked at his son like the younger man was crazy. It only lasted a moment before he turned back to the worn-out train. “Their loss.”

               Ted took a deep breath. “Why don’t we just drop it for now. Come on, let’s get you home. If you like, we can get you a few model trains to mess around with.”

               The old man scoffed. “Those toys? Why would I bother with those things when I have the real thing right here? But sure, let’s go. I’ve had my ride for the day. Seeing the grandkids will be nice after that.”

               Ted placed a hand on his father’s back. It took him a few tried, even with help, but he managed to stand. Ted guided his father to the car. He paused and took a look back at the train engine. He wondered if it would even last another month. And more importantly, what his father would do when it finally broke down.

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If they're still around, go visit your grandparents. That's all. Just go do it if you can.