Word: Delitescent

delitescent

[ del-i-tes-uhnt ]

adjective

1. concealed; hidden; latent.

 **********************************

         “So, how’s the monitoring going?” 

“Terrible. The locals are just horrible. Just the worst.” 

“Oh, I’m sure they aren’t that bad.” 

“Well, let’s see. First, they named their planet after dirt. So yeah.” 

“Dirt?” 

“They call it Earth. It’s a ridiculous name.” 

“Okay, yeah, that is kind of weird. But other than their lack of naming skills, how are they?” 

“They’re literally poisoning their own planet. Most of their countries are run by dictators, oligarchs or warlords. The countries that aren’t ruled by one of those three are on their way to becoming ruled by one of those three. The population of the richer nations don’t care about those from poorer nations, or even their fellow countrymen. The world is capable of nuclear weapons, and from the looks of things, they’re going to be used within a few local years. I’d say we just wipe them out and let the planet replace them, but those damn peacemaker laws won’t even let us do that.” 

“So... they’re going to try and kill themselves?” 

“No intentionally. But between the nuclear arms and climate altering chemicals, they’re heading down that path. Oh no. Why are you making that look? I hate that look. That look always leads to you saying something I won’t like.” 

“Well...” 

“Just say it.” 

“I was going through their biological data, and I found a hidden Latency.” 

“You. Found. What?” 

“A hidden Latency.” 

“But we scanned them. They don’t have any powers, even dormant ones. How can they have a Latency?” 

“It’s...hidden. Very deeply. So deeply that they consider that part of their genome ‘junk.’ It falls off as they age, so it’s no wonder they haven’t unlocked it yet.’ 

“And you’re absolutely sure? You didn’t make a mistake in your tests?” 

“Oh, I’m absolutely sure. I wish I could tell what their hidden power is, but you know how it is with Latencies.” 

“What I know is that now if they end up wiping each other out, we need to intervene. And I really don’t want to do that.” 

“Oh, it won’t be so bad. We just have to save enough for stable genetic diversity. Say, ten thousand or so.” 

“That’s still ten thousand more than I want to save. Can’t you just, I don’t know, ‘lose’ the data? Maybe in the radiation belt around the planet?” 

“You know that won’t work. My data is backed up in a dozen different places. And if a bit of stellar radiation was enough to cause that kind of problem, we wouldn’t have made it to another planet.” 

“Damn it. So, we’re really going to have to save these idiotic apes?” 

“Only if they’re going to undergo an extinction event. And we’ll choose from the more intelligent and empathetic members of their population. Avoid all those dictators and oligarchs.” 

“Okay, fine. I still say we pretend you didn’t find that damn Latency and call for a full system quarantine. It’ll be easier than dealing with those idiots.” 

“If only it was that easy.”   

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

Yeah, junk DNA is a thing. I don't know much about it beyond that though. It'd be cool if we could unlock super powers hidden in it though. Who know? Maybe someday.

Word: Pandurate

 

pandurate

[ pan-duh-reyt, -der-it, -dyuh-reyt, -dyer-it ]

adjective

1. shaped like a fiddle, as a leaf.

 ************************************

For the most part, it looked like a normal tree. It had all the parts a normal tree should have. It had a thick, sturdy trunk and sprawling roots. The leaves were broad, with a distinct, fiddle-like shape to them. The canopy spread out tall and wide and was filled with those leaves. It even had a few small buds on the ends of some branches. All in all, a normal tree. 

The only problem was the color. The trunk was bright blue, while the leaves were a distinct purple color. Even the buds were starting to develop a muted yellow color. This one tree, found out in the middle of a field with no other trees around it, had gotten quite the attention. All because of its colors.  

People came from all over to see it. Botanists came to study it. Conspiracy theorists came to peddle their ideas about aliens and secrets. Religious people saw it as a sign of the divine at work. But most people just came to see the unusual tree. Pictures were taken. Businesses were established.  

While studying the pandurate, purple leaves, scientists made several discoveries.  

“This tree will save the world.” they said. “It works three times as efficiently as normal trees.” They said. This caused a renewed clamor. People wanted to clone the tree. Make more of them and help heal the world.  

When studying the wide roots, they found yet more. 

“This tree is greedy.” They said. “It takes far more nutrients from the soil. Nothing else will be able to grow nearby. 

This cause people to say it was not worth it. That the tree should be removed. After all, it was better to have four normal trees in an area than one special tree that took the same space.  

When studying the buds, they found them to be the start of fruit. 

“We won’t know for sure until they form, but it is likely the fruits will be big and highly nutritious. Maybe even enough to feed a person for a day with just one.” 

While this was yet speculation, it once again caused a stir. People wanted more of them again. Many such trees could feed so many. Maybe even solve world hunger. It was worth the low numbers, as long as everything was managed right. 

More and more, those studying the tree found new things about it. Some made people want to get rid of it. That it was harmful in the long run. Others made them want more such trees. That the gains were worth the price. And the discoveries brought on more and more people to the tree. People of all walks of like. Those who wanted to exploit it. Those who wanted to worship it. Those who called it a hoax, and those who called it a gift. Those who cursed it and those who just thought it looked neat.  

And nobody could figure out what it was, or how it got there. Eventually, those questions were abandoned in favor of what to do with it. Whether to use it, to destroy it, or to plant more of it. And nobody could decide what was best. 

As for the tree, it was tired and wished all those humans around it would just leave it alone and let it sleep in peace. 

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

So yeah, no idea if this is any good or not, but it's what I got.

Word: Doctrinaire

 

doctrinaire

[ dok-truh-nair ]

noun

1. a person who tries to apply some doctrine or theory without sufficient regard for practical considerations; an impractical theorist.

   adjective

   1. dogmatic about others' acceptance of one's ideas; fanatical:

      a doctrinaire preacher.

   2. merely theoretical; impractical.
   3. of, relating to, or characteristic of a doctrinaire.

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

The party was missing just one person. They had gathered someone to fill every role a good adventuring party could ever need. All except the most important one: the healer. The party leader, Wilhelm, had put in a request for one, and someone had answered. Now Wilhelm was waiting in the guild lobby for the person to arrive. 

He saw many a person come and go, many dressed in robes that would indicate a magic user. But none approached him. Until a young man dressed in a priest’s raiment's entered. Wilhelm hoped this wasn’t the one who accepted. He did not want to deal with church dogma on a regular basis. 

And so it was with a heavy sigh that he saw the priest approach. “Greetings, Sir Wilhelm, I am Brother Arnet, from the church of Aldetra.” the young priest said with a slight bow. 

“First of all, I’m not a knight, so none of that ‘sir’ business. Second, I don’t care which church you belong to, so long as you can heal the party in a battle.” 

Arnet’s eye twitched, but he kept a slight smile on his face. “Of course. I am well trained in the healing and defensive arts. Aldetra does teach--” 

“Don’t care. You got healing magic and defensive magic. That’s good. You got any buffs?” 

“I do, yes. The full range of them.” 

“Good enough for me. Now, one more thing. We’re a party that doesn’t care about religion. I get that you need to pray and do a bunch of ritual stuff, and that’s fine. But keep it to yourself.” 

“I’m sorry, what? You don’t want to hear of the light of Aldetra?” 

“Nope. Only other guy in our party who’s even remotely religious is our mage, and he only pays basic lip service to, what’s the magic god’s name?” 

“Ah, that would be Kevri.” 

“Right, that one. Other than that, we don’t care. So you do what you need to. Just don’t involve the rest of us.” 

“But becoming part of Aldetra’s church can bring you so many benefits. I’d be happy to--” 

“Hard pass.” 

Arnet’s mouth opened and closed several times. He took a deep breath before saying anything. 

“You have a problem with Aldetra and her church?” 

“With the goddess and her church? No. I don’t have any problems with any churches. It’s the people that I have a problem with.” 

“I don’t...what?” 

“The way I see it, the gods do their thing. Keep the world running and all that. Fine.  Good. That’s their job and from what I can tell, they do a pretty good job of it. The churches? They’re buildings. Some are nice. Some aren’t. I don’t have a beef with architecture. But the people? Now those can be a problem. Some are fine. Hell, most are okay folk. But others? There are those who make the whole thing stink. Corruption. Fanatic adherence to dogma. And a lot of acting like you know better about damn near everything. And that’s even before all the pandering and sweet talking, trying to lure people into your little god club. And don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You absolutely do. I’m willing to be a gold piece that you had a dozen speeches ready to convert the entire party.” 

“I...that’s...”  

“So yeah, if you really want to go out into the world, fight evil and keep me and mine alive, then good. Keep your prayers to yourself and we won’t have a problem. But if your only goal was to get new members for your flock, then get out of here. There’s plenty of healers out there that don’t give a damn about the gods.” 

Much to Wilhelm’s surprise, Arnet did not leave. In fact, the young priest sat across from him.  

“Part of my goal in becoming an adventurer is indeed to spread the word of my goddess. But it’s also to protect people and preserve the life of the innocent. Your words might be borderline heretical, but as long as my goals are fulfilled, then the people I work with are irrelevant. I don’t think we’ll ever like each other, Mr. Wilhelm. But we don’t need to like each other to fight together, do we?” 

“No. No we don’t. It helps. But it’s not necessary. Welcome to the team, Arnet. Let’s see how long you last.”  

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

I do a lot of adventuring party formation stories, don't I? Think that says something about my state of mind? I'm sure some psychologist out there could say a few things. Well, as long as the stories are at least okay, I'm fine with whatever my choices of story subject say about me.

Word: Tabula Rasa

 

tabula rasa

[ tab-yuh-luh rah-suh, -zuh, rey-; Latin tah-boo-lah rah-sah ]

noun

plural tabulae rasae [tab, -y, uh, -lee , rah, -see, -zee, rey, -, tah, -b, oo, -lahy , rah, -sahy].

1. a mind not yet affected by experiences, impressions, etc.
2. anything existing undisturbed in its original pure state.

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

Kyle went through his drawers, examining his clothes. Some he put into one of several large suitcases, while others he tossed into an ever-growing pile. This was only the first of many areas around his room that he would be doing this to. The pile would be donated to some charity, while the suitcases would be going with him. 

As he went through the process of uprooting his entire life, he heard a knock on the door. Before he could say anything, his older sister, Amy, entered.  

“You know I didn’t say it was okay to come in. What if I was changing?” Kyle said. 

“Given what you’ve been doing in here for the last several hours, we both know there wasn’t a danger of that.” 

“Fair enough. What do you want?” 

Amy sat on the bed and looked at the pile of clothes slated for the donation bin. “You don’t need to do this, you know. You have a perfectly good life right here.” 

Kyle stopped sorting and loosed at his sister. “Yeah, I know. That’s the problem. That’s why I’m doing this.” 

“Yeah, I still don’t get it. I’ve thought about it since you said you were moving, and I still don’t get it. Why are you doing this, Kyle? Why are you leaving us?” 

“Because I need to. Because if I stay here, being in this family will just smother me. I need place where I can be me. Where I can life without being told what a wonderful family I have.” 

“What’s so bad about having a good family? Not everyone has that, you know.” 

He sighed and joined his sister on the bed, sitting almost a foot away from her. He closed his eyes and leaned back, collecting his thoughts before saying anything else. 

“Amy, when I was in high school, do you know how many teachers talked about you?” 

“How many?” 

“All of them. Every single one. And whenever I did anything, they always spoke about how I was definitely your brother. How you were rubbing off on me. Nothing I did was ever really mine. It was always because of you. Your influence. Your help. You just being you.” 

“I didn’t--” 

“I’m not finished yet.” Kyle said, cutting Amy off. “Would you say I have a pretty good job?” 

“Of course. Way better than most people our age.” 

“Do you know how I got my job?” 

“Oh sure. Because Dad...ah.” 

“Mm-hm. I didn’t get hired because I was the best choice. I got hired because Dad pulled some strings. The only time in my life when I could stand on my own two feet and not be compared to another member of this family was in college.” 

“So that’s why you went to that little nowhere school instead of an ivy league like Mom and Dad?” 

“Exactly. Sure, I would’ve gotten a better education, no question. But I would’ve been a legacy. Mom or Dad’s son. Not me. I need to go to a place where I can stand on my own merit instead of you, Mom or Dad’s. I need a place where I’m a blank slate. Where nobody knows me. Otherwise, I’ll never escape the very long shadows you three cast.” 

“I...I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were going through that.” 

“Yeah, I know. I know you three want what’s best for me. Or at least what you think is best. And who knows, maybe moving across the country is a terribly idea and I’m just setting myself up for failure. At least it’ll be my failure. At least it’ll be something I did on my own without the influence of any family. And that’s more than I’ll ever get here.”  

Amy leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees. “I’m not sure I understand, not fully anyway. But I at least get it a little more now. I guess that’s all that any of us can hope for, huh? Since you think this way, I’ll help you out as much as I can. Or, well, as much as you’ll accept.” 

“I appreciate that. Even just getting Mom and Dad off my back about this would be more than enough.” 

“Yeah, I can do that.” The two siblings sat there in silence for a moment before the elder spoke again. “You will keep in contact, right?” 

“Of course. I’m not planning on cutting contact. I just need to stand on my own merit instead of everyone else’s.”  

Amy stood, faced her brother, and held out a hand. “Well then my dear little brother, I wish you all the best in your quest for a blank slate of a life.” 

Kyle grinned and accepted the offered hand. “I’ll do my best. Whatever my best may be.”

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

Well, Happy New Year, everyone. Did you have a nice time? Did you manage to stay up for the big moment? Now, let's all hope that this year will be better than the last.