Word: pied-à-terre

 

pied-à-terre

[pee-ey-duh-tair, -dah-, pyey-]

noun

plural

pieds-à-terre 

1. a residence, as an apartment, for part-time or temporary use.

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                Roommates. Jake hated the very idea of them. It was the worst part of his life in college, and he hated that he was forced to have them now that he was out on his own. But, alas, it was the only way he could afford an apartment. The only other option he had was to rely on his parents, and he refused to do that.

                Which meant he would have to suck it up and deal with other people intruding on what was supposed to be his home. His sanctuary. The one place where he did not have to deal with other people. It was with a heavy heart that Jake entered the apartment to meet the people who would no doubt make his life far more difficult that he wanted.

                Upon opening the door, the first thing that hit him was, oddly, the smell. It was not like anything he had ever smelt before. There was an herbal scent, combined with ozone and something else. Something he imagined the color purple would smell like. He had no idea how that was possible, but it was.

                Once he got over the smell, sort of, he got a look at the place. It looked fairly normal. The door opened onto a living room with a well-made living room setup, complete with a large TV and several game consoles. Jake could certainly appreciate that. Off to one side he could see the dining area, with a small table and matching chairs. The kitchen itself was not far from that, with all the necessary amenities. The apartment was not particularly clean, but he could live with that.

                And there, sitting on the couch, was a person Jake assumed was one of his new roommates. He was a large man. Jake thought the word swarthy was appropriate, given his build and the amount of hair he had. The guy was engrossed in something, but looked up as soon as Jake entered.

                “Yo! New guy!” The man said cheerfully. “You are the new guy, right?”

                “Yeah, that’s me. I’m Jake.”

                “Cool. Nice to meet ya, man. I’m Will. Andy’s over in that room,” Will pointed at a short hallway with two doors, focusing on one of them, “And Ben’s over there.” His finger shifted to the opposite side of the hallway, with an almost identical setup. “I’m across from Andy, which means you get the dubious honor of being across from Ben. Careful, he’s got terrible taste in music.”

                “Oh. Great.” Jake said sullenly. Just what he wanted. A roommate who would play bad music. Probably way too often for his taste.

                “It’s not as bad as it seems. So anyway, I gotta know. What are you?”

                Jake blinked several times in confusion. “What?”

                “What are you? Like, I’m a werewolf, and Ben’s an elf. The cool kind, not the lame ones that get paraded around ever December.”

                Now Jake was really confused. “Uh, what? I don’t...huh?”

                “Come on, you can tell me. You wouldn’t have gotten this room if you weren’t something. You’re among friends here, you can tell me.”

                “I...huh?” Jake took a few steps back. He was clearly dealing with a crazy person. Or a furry. He wasn’t sure which was worse. If he backed out now, he could probably find a different place.

                “Wait...wait, hold on. You don’t know?” Will asked. Jake was busy eying the door. “Oh my god, you don’t know! We got a genuine lost one here! This is awesome! Wait till the other guys hear this. Oh man, you are gonna have a wild few months until you get adjusted.”

                “Oh...okay. I think I’m just going to...go...now...” Jake said as he began to make his way to the door.

                Will ginned wider. Was it his imagination, or did the guy’s teeth look oddly...canine? “What color?”

                Jake froze. “What?”

                “Take a deep breath. Smell that in the air? It gives you the impression of a color, right? For me, it’s silver, like the moon. Normal humans won’t smell that. They’ll smell the incense Ben burns. That’s that weird herbal smell, by the way. And let me tell you, it is intense for me. I keep telling him to keep it outside, but nope. He has to do that in here. Anyway, yeah, colors. What is it.”

                “Uh...purple? I think?”

                “Purple, huh? Let me think. Hang on, I gotta look this up.” Will rushed into his room and came back with a phone, and was already busy looking something up. “Ah, here it is. Human with magical potential. Darn, I was hoping for something more fun, but oh well. But I guess it never hurts to have an actual human around, so we can work with this. And human magic can get wild, depending on what you’re best at.”

                “I don’t...what?”

                “Oh yeah, I bet you wouldn’t know, would you? Well, wait till the other two get here and we’ll tell you all about your new world. Until then, have a seat. We’ll play some games and get you all settled in. Welcome to the apartment, buddy. I’m sure this all sounds weird now, but don’t worry, I know once you settle in, you’re definitely gonna love it here.”

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I wouldn't mind finding out I had magical powers by talking with a new werewolf buddy. It would be pretty weird, but at least it wouldn't be boring. 

Word: Roc

roc

[rok]

noun

Arabian Mythology.

1. a bird of enormous size and strength

 

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                “I don’t get why we need to bring this much stuff to kill one bird.” Luke said as he hefted his oversized backpack. He needed to adjust it before they really started to climb the mountain, making sure it wouldn’t slip off.

                “First of all, we’re not here to kill it.” Nera corrected. “We’re just trying to get one feather. Second of all, it’s not just a bird. It’s a Roc. That means we need to prepare accordingly.”

                “A rock? I thought we were after a bird. And why would a rock have feathers?”

                The other party members stopped and turned to look at the large man. Luke paused as well, looking at his team members and waiting for them to answer him.

                “Luke, you do know what a Roc is, right?” The party leader, Adam, asked.

                “Sure. Why wouldn’t I know that? They’re everywhere.”

                “Can you tell us what you think we’re talking about then?” Nera asked. Luke answered by picking up a small stone. The other two groaned. “How have you survived this long as a monster hunter?”

                “What do you mean?”

                Adam sighed as he responded, “What she means is we have serious cause to doubt your continued survival. Now, I can’t believe I’m asking you this, but do you know what any of the monsters we fight are called?”

                “Nope.” Luke said proudly. “I don’t have to know what they’re called to kill them.”

                “But don’t you have to study them? You know, to know their strengths and weaknesses? Or just where they live?” Nora asked.

                “Weaknesses? I know the weakness of every single monster out there.” The other two looked at each other skeptically. Luke paused and took out his battle axe. “It’s called axe! And if not axe,” He pulled a large war hammer out of his backpack, “then hammer!”

                Both the other party members felt the beginnings of a headache. “I can’t even begin to tell you why that’s wrong.” Nora said. Part of her wanted to smack the much larger man over the head. That part of silenced by the fact that she wouldn’t be able to reach.

                “Really? Seems like it works so far.”

                “Okay, look, we can try educating you when we get back to town.” Adam said with a sigh. “Let’s focus on the Roc. That’s r-o-c, not r-o-c-k. A rock with a ‘k’ is just a stone. A Roc without a ‘k’ is a bird.”

                “Oh. So, we are killing a bird.” Luke said, nodding his head. “Got it.”

                “Well, again, we’re not here to kill it. Just get a feather. Also, see that big boulder over there?” Adam pointed to a massive boulder, easily twice as big as Luke was. The large man nodded. “Well, a Roc is not a big as that boulder. It is big enough to pick up that boulder with one foot.”

                Luke’s forehead scrunched up in thought. “That’s...a really big bird.”

                “That’s right. A really, really big bird. I could go into more about it, but none of that matters now. What matters is that we’re going to climb up that mountain to the Roc’s nest, get a single feather from it, and climb back down. If the Roc is present in the nest, We’re going to hide until it’s not. Can you tell me why?”

                Luke thought as hard as he possibly could. “Because it’s too big for axe and hammer to kill?”

                Adam and Nera glanced at each other. She felt her eyes glaze over. He rubbed his temples to try and head off the coming headache.

                “You know what?” The party leader said. “That’s close enough. Let’s get this over with.”

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You'd think in a fantasy world, knowledge of super dangerous monsters would be fairly common, if only to know what places to avoid at all costs. But some people are just dumb. Even a world of monsters and magic can't suppress human stupidity.  

Word: Laudatory

 

laudatory

Sometimes laud·a·tive

[law-duh-tawr-ee, -tohr-ee]

adjective

1. containing or expressing praise.

   overwhelmed by the speaker's laudatory remarks.

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               Lord Callin, Protector of the Realm, Barer of the Divine Blade and a slew of other titles, slumped against the door of his bedchamber.  He should have been out there, doing his duty as host to the party. But he just could not handle it anymore.  The empty praise. The false adulation.

               All those people out there. His guests. His people. They heaped him with compliments and didn’t mean a single one of them. He was sick of it. He wished he could just tell those people to leave, but no. He had to at least appear civil. He had to at least look like he enjoyed the praise. Like he didn’t see through every bit of it.  Even this small reprieve would not last long. He would have to go back out there and pretend to bask in their false flattery.

               He took a deep breath to calm his mind. That was when he became aware that he was not alone. He slowly opened his eyes and saw one of his maids. A new one, most likely. The girl was young. Probably not even in her second decade yet. The girl stood, wide eyed and stock still.

               “M-my lord, I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…I thought you would still be at the party so I came in here an…” She stopped before she rambled any further.

               “It’s fine.” Lorn Callin said, letting his exhaustion through. “You were only doing what I hire you to do. This little visit of mine wasn’t planned.”

               Callin cast his gaze around the room. He began to notice, really notice the state of it. An it was quite obvious which areas the girl had gotten to, an which had yet to receive attention.

               “Seems like you’re doing a fine job of it, at any rate.” He said.     

               Her cheeks reddened and she wrung her hands nervously. “Me? O-oh no. I’m not…I mean…” He took a deep breath and did her best curtsy. It was not very good, but she was trying. “I am not worthy of such praise, my lord.”

               He smiled weakly. “You don’t get compliments often, do you?”

               The maid studiously avoided her lord’s eyes. “No, my lord. I’m just a simple girl. Not worthy of kind words from anyone, let alone someone as great as you.”

               “I’m curious. What would you do if lots of people suddenly started complimenting you, but didn’t mean them?”

               “My lord? I’m not sure what you mean?”

               “Let’s say everyone around you started calling you the best maid. The best at everything to do with your job. And then kept going. Giving you more and more praise. But you’re not. Not the best. Everything they say is a lie. What would you do?”

               “Begging your pardon, my lord, but it would depend on who was doing the talking. Someone like you? I’d just live with it. After all, who am I to say what a man such as yourself would be thinking. But if it was my fellow maids? I’d ask them to stop beating around the bush and tell me what they wanted.”

               “Oh?” Callin asked, rubbing his chin. “And why is that?”

               “Well, my lord, I don’t know how it is for the lords and nobles, but among us common folk, when you flatter someone to that degree, it’s because they either deserve it, or you want something from them.”

               Lord Callin’s lips curled up in a small smile. “I see. Thank you for that. It was insightful. And more helpful than you know.” He took a few deep breaths and turned to the door. “Oh, and do keep up the goo work. I wasn’t lying when I said that you’re doing well.”

               He left the room, heading back to the ballroom, leaving a very surprise girl behind. It was time to find out what all those empty compliments were really for.

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Hopefully all the compliments you get are genuine.