Word: Brume

 

brume

[ broom ]

noun

1. mist; fog.

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

               “I need to go out there.” Jeff said.

               Everyone else in the shelter stopped what they were doing and looked at him like he was crazy. Who would willingly enter the Mist?

               “Food supplies are running low.” He continued. “Someone’s got to scavenge for more. At least until the green boys figure out how to grow something.”

               Several people wanted to argue, but none could. The food in the shelter was indeed limited, and the stores were shrinking every day. If someone did not leave to get more food, everyone would starve.

               “Does it have to be you though?” The question came from Mary. In better times, she would have been Jeff’s fiancé. Now that such labels were meaningless, they were just two people who roomed together. “I mean, there’s plenty of others here who can.”

               “And how many of them are volunteering?” Jeff asked. He looked around. Several others avoided his gaze. Not that he blamed them. “It’s also why I’m going alone. I won’t force anyone to leave with me unless things get really bad. And, since it’s not at that point yet, I’m going.”

               He went to the door leading outside. To the Mist. And to the things inside it. He quietly shouldered a large pack and two weapons. One was one of the few guns remaining. A carefully maintained shotgun, and a handful of the ammo for it. The second was a good, heavy mace. Or at least, as close as anyone could come to making a proper mace without the needed tools. It was not pretty, but it was solid, heavy and reliable.

               “We’ll use a number three today.” Jeff announced.

               “You sure?” Another person, Will, said. “I think I heard some of them trying to mimic number three.”

               Jeff paused. The coded knocks were one of the few ways they could tell the Mist born things from the people they mimicked. It was lucky that the things were not the smartest creatures, and could only copy so much. Knocking on a door in a set pattern had been reliable so far, especially when there were several patterns. But if Will was right than they had a problem.

               “Have you confirmed that?”

               “No, but it came from that wanderer that showed up last week. Said he heard one of them hitting a tree, and then showed me what it sounded like. Wasn’t quite right, but it was definitely trying to be a number three.”

               Jeff swore under his breath. He still thought people who willingly went without shelter were idiots. But they were the only source of news of the outside world these days. And that meant he could not afford to distrust one.

               “We’ll need to come up with a new identifier then. Until then…I suppose number six will do. We don’t use that one very often, so it should still be safe.”

               Will nodded. “Number six it is.”

               “Good luck out there.” Mary said. “And…be careful. If you see too many of them, get back here quick. We have enough food to last a little while longer, and your life is more important.”

               She did not voice her real thoughts. She did not need to. At least, not to Jeff. He nodded in understanding. He turned away from the people. His friends. His family. He turned to the cold metal door and opened it. The Mist flowed in. Not enough to spawn one of the things, but enough to unsettle those inside the shelter.

               Jeff rushed out, closing the door behind him as soon as he could. He looked out into the Mist. A solid wall of damp and grey that hid the world. He took a deep breath, held his mace at the ready and ventured out. 

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

So, what do you think? New monster horror/sci-fi type thing? Or is it just going to go nowhere? Well, it probably will go nowhere since I'm probably not doing anything with it, but still. It's occasionally nice to think about.

Word: Theocracy

 

theocracy

[ thee-ok-ruh-see ]

noun, plural the·oc·ra·cies.

1. a form of government in which God or a deity is recognized as the supreme civil ruler, the God's or deity's laws being interpreted by the ecclesiastical authorities.
2. a system of government by priests claiming a divine commission.
3. a commonwealth or state under such a form or system of government.

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

   Sammy heard Mommy and Daddy talking in the grown-up room. They called it a study, but to him, it was the grown-up room. He liked it better that way. He had just come home from school, and was eager to tell them all about it. Mostly to show them the picture he drew. He stopped at the door and heard them speaking.

   “He’s too young. We can’t tell him. Not yet, anyway.” Mommy said.

   “I know, I know. But do you have a better alternative? The white guard is breathing down our necks and the reds aren’t far behind. If we don’t tell him now, we might not get the chance.”

   “We can bow out. Nobody will blame us. Not with Sam around.”

   Sammy had no idea what they were talking about. Why would the guard be after Mommy and Daddy? The white guard especially were their friends. Only bad guys got chased by the guards. The teacher-priests had told him that, and they couldn’t tell lies. It was against the Book. At least, that’s what everyone said.

   Sammy opened the door. Mommy and Daddy stopped talking and looked at him. Mommy immediately headed over to him and gave him a big hug.

   “Hey there, Sammy. You’re home early.” She said.

   “Uh-huh. The drivers said that God was happy with us, so He gave us a clear way home.”

   Daddy did not look happy for a little bit. But he soon smiled and joined Mommy.

   “Oh he did, huh? Well, we’ll have to…to thank him later, won’t we?”

   “Uh-huh.” Sammy said happily. “What were you talking about? Are there any bad guys here?”

   “What? Why would you think there’s bad guys here?” Mommy asked.

   “I heard you say the white guard are around, and they only go after bad guys.”

   Daddy gave the little laugh he did when he thought something was funny, even when it wasn’t.

   “Bad guys. Sure. Sometimes they do. Other times?”

   Mommy gave Daddy her best mean look. It was the look she gave when she did not want someone to do something. Sammy frowned. He did not know what was going on, but he knew it was something. Maybe something bad.

   “What do you mean?” He asked. Mommy and Daddy looked scared for a moment. Then Daddy got down on one knee. That was how Sammy knew something important was happening.

   “Do you know what a theocracy is?” He asked. Sammy shook his head. “It’s when the church rules a country. It’s what we have.”

   “But our country is ruled by God. The teacher-priests said so.”

   “They might be teachers, but they’re still priests. They’re still members of the church, buddy. But that’s not important. What is important is that some members of the church are bad guys. They do all kinds of bad things while saying they’re good. They do all kinds of bad, terrible things in the name of god. And, since they’re the ones in charge, nobody can say anything to make them stop.”

   Sammy was confused. The priests were the ones who spoke for God. There was no way they could be bad. Daddy was not done talking though.

   “Well, some people think that the priests shouldn’t be in charge anymore. That they should be punished for doing bad things. But they don’t want to be punished, so they tell the guards to get these people. The priests call them bad names and make everything think they’re the bad guys, even when they want to make the country better.”

   Sammy was getting more and more confused. None of what Daddy was saying made any sense to him. He was about to ask a question when Mommy spoke up.

   “How about we talk about this later?” She said, looking hard at Daddy. “You can tell us all about your day at school and I’ll make dinner. And we can talk about other things.” She said the last two words differently, like she wanted to make sure Daddy heard those words more than the rest.

   “Of course, dear. We’ll talk about other things.” Daddy said with a big smile that even Sammy could tell he did not mean.

   Sammy had so many questions to ask now. But it seemed like Mommy did not want him to ask them. Maybe someday they would tell him. Until then, he would make sure that the white guard did not think anyone at his home was bad guys.

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

   I don't think I really did an adequate job telling how scary a situation like this could be. And what's worse is that it might not be completely realistic. Seriously, this is one election away from becoming a reality in the US. And that should scare everyone. 
   

Word: Timbre

 

timbre

[ tam-ber, tim-; French tan-bruh ]

noun

1. Acoustics, Phonetics. the characteristic quality of a sound, independent of pitch and loudness, from which its source or manner of production can be inferred. Timbre depends on the relative strengths of the components of different frequencies, which are determined by resonance.
2. Music. the characteristic quality of sound produced by a particular instrument or voice; tone color.
3. characteristic tone of expression:

   the masterful rhythm and timbre of his writing.

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

               The door slammed shut. The room’s darkness was banished by light stones embedded in the walls. Dozens of identical crystals rose into the air, suspended by the magical power of the room. The three people who entered looked around, trying to find the trial’s rules for this chamber. It was easy to see. A plaque attached to the wall near the door told them what they needed to know.

               “Okay, let’s see.” Said the party’s warrior, Cole. “Blah blah blah, flowery language. It pretty much boils down to finding the one crystal that’s different than the others and using it to unlock the door.”

               The other two party members, Alicia the mage and Jackson, the bard, nodded. They had done various puzzle challenges before and knew basically what to do. They just needed to find the theme of the room and go from there.

               “Okay, nice and easy.” Alicia said. “It sucks that there’s so many, but let’s see what they’ve got.”

               She approached a crystal and reached towards it. Once she did, it let out a clear, steady note. The mage closed her eyes and focused her magic, trying to identify something. The other two looked on.

               “Sound based, obviously.” She said after a few moments. “So just listen for the one that has a different note or something? Shouldn’t be too hard.”

               She headed for the next crystal. It activated, emitting the sound of a similar, but not quite the same, instrument. Cole and Alicia looked at each other in confusion. Jackson had his eyes closed, listening intently.

               “So…” Cole began. “Do you think one of those two is the key, or is there a different trick?”

               Alicia went to a third crystal. It sounded the same as the second. Her brow furrowed. “Okay, it can’t be that easy, can it?”

               Cole shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t care. The first one was different enough.”

               The warrior reached out to grab the first crystal.

               “Hold it.” Jackson said. The other two froze. The bard headed to a different crystal. The note was different that the others. He tested several. Each produced a similar but slightly different note. “Hm, I think I got it. It’s not the note, it’s the timbre.”

               The other two looked at him confused. Jackson looked at them for a moment, like he was expecting them to react somehow. A small grin crossed his face.

               “Hey, Alicia, is this what it feels like to be you? Considering how much you have to explain about magic, it feels nice to be the expert here.”

               “It is nice.” She said with a nod. “Although it can be a bit frustrating too. You two really need to brush up on your basic magic theory.”

               “Okay, we can talk about this later.” Cole said. “The point is you know what the trick is?”

               “I do. It’s not the note itself that matters. Timbre is…” He paused and mulled the words over. “The quality, I guess? Like a higher quality instrument being used, or a more skilled musician using it. There’s more to it, but that’s the basics. So far the notes have been different, but the timbres have been the same. Don’t worry, I got this.”

               The other two could only shrug. They went from crystal to crystal, letting Jackson listen to each note, often several at once. It was an hour later that he finally declared and end.

               “Got it. It’s this one.” He said, plucking a crystal out of the air. To the other two, it sounded no different than the others.

               Even so, neither stopped the bard as he went to the far door and inserted the crystal. The runes around it glowed and the crystal vanished. A second passed before the door slid open with a muted rumble.

               “Great. Onto the next one.” Cole said.

               “Yup. Let’s just hope the rest are that easy.” Jackson said as the trio headed on to their next challenge.

******************************* 

Just a little something to do on the weekend, I suppose. Nothing much to say about it, really.