Word: Doodad

doodad

Or do-dad

[doo-dad]

noun

Informal.

1. a decorative embellishment; trinket; bauble.

   a dress covered with doodads.

2. a gadget; device.

   a kitchen full of the latest doodads.

 

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                When Jen entered her boyfriend’s apartment, she was floored by how much stuff there was. Every single shelf was piled high with seemingly random things. There were even several piles tucked into various corners. Luckily there was no actual trash. At least, not that she could see. She had yet to see the majority of the place.

                “Uh, Chris?” She asked.

                “Yeah? Oh the stuff. Yeah, sorry I didn’t know you were coming. If I had, I would’ve organized a bit more.”

                She noticed he did not say ‘clean.’ It seemed like he wanted the piles of junk around. Was she dating a hoarder?

                “Come on in. Let me show you around.” Chris said, oblivious to her mounting dread.

                He headed into the apartment. Thankfully the floors were mostly clear of things, so walking around was not too much of a problem. He began a tour of the apartment, ignoring the piles of stuff on every surface that could support them. Ever shelf, counter and piece of furniture was covered in them. It got to the point where Jen could not let it go.

                “So, about your...things...” She said.

                “Ah, my collections. Now, I know it’s a bit messy, but I do have a system. I haven’t gotten around to fully sorting them all yet, but that’s coming up soon. I’ve got four basic groups. I’ve got my doodads, which are all the things that lean more towards function than form. That sort of thing. Then I’ve got my knickknacks, which combine form and function. They have a use, but can also be decorative. Then I have my tchotchkes, which are purely decorative. They aren’t much use, but they look nice. And finally, there’s the junk. Stuff I don’t want or can’t fit into the other categories, so I’m just getting rid of them. Eventually.”

                Well, that last category sounded promising, except for that last word. If he was planning on getting rid of stuff, maybe he was not a full-blown hoarder.

                “I see. And where’s the junk pile?”

                “That’s that one over there.” He pointed to one of the piles that was more removed from others. It was also the smallest by far.

                “And what about the rest of these piles?”

                “Everything else is in one of the other three categories. At least for now. Sorting them all is an ongoing process.”

                “Ah. And how much do you anticipate moving to your junk pile?”

                Chris looked around and thought. Jen thought he might be thinking a little too hard. It all seemed like junk to her. Okay, maybe a few odds and ends were worth saving, but certainly not all of it.

                “I’d say maybe a fifth of it?” He said after a few more seconds. “Maybe as much as a quarter.”

                “Are...are you sure about that?”

                “No. Not until I actually go through it all. Now, I know the number seems a little high, but I’m sure I can manage it.”

                Jen sighed. She really was dating a hoarder, just one with some control over his impulses. Enough to retain a semblance of a civilized living space, anyway. Now she just had to figure out how to deal with that news. She took a deep breath.

                “Tell you what. How about I help you go through all your things here and we’ll see how much is actually worth saving, okay?”

                “Really?” He asked, face brightening considerably. “You’d do that?”

                “Yes. Yes I would. How about we get started now?”

                The sooner she could reduce the amount of clutter in his apartment, the better it would be for both of them. The real hard part would be convincing him to actually go through with junking things. But first, she needed to get the things in that pile. She looked around again. This was going to take a while.

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I should probably clean my room and stuff. I don't have huge piles of junk around, but I definitely have things I can get rid of. Maybe someday I'll actually work up the will to do that.  

Word: Favonian

 

favonian

[fuh-voh-nee-uhn]

adjective

1. of or relating to the west wind.

2. mild or favorable; propitious.

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                Marcus felt his head begin to pound. Why were these damn sailors not doing anything? Well, they were, but not what he wanted them to. He was telling them to get the blasted ship moving faster, and they were practically laughing at him. Did they have any idea how much money was at stake here? More than the ship was worth, for sure.

                And yet the sailors were moving like nothing was wrong. They may as well have been completely idle! Marcus would put a stop to that. He pulled out the small stone that would serve to call the ship’s captain. Sure, he could go find the man, but why would he do that? He was footing the bill for this voyage. The captain would come to him.

                A few minutes later, the ship’s captain did appear, holding an identical stone to the one Marcus had used.

                “What’dya want now?” The captain asked. His voice was just as large as the rest of him was, and even speaking quietly was loud enough to be heard by other members of the crew. Not that any of them seemed to care.

                “Captain, I demand you increase this ship’s speed immediately.” Marcus replied, loud enough for the same crew members to hear.

                The captain looked at him and blinked a few times. “Yer serious right now?”

                “Of course I am. I know this ship is capable to greater speeds. I want it moving as fast as it can go.” He had paid a hefty sum for a ship that had been rune touched for speed. He could see the markings all over the place. The fact that nobody was using them was infuriating.

                “No.”

                “No?”

                “No. We will not be going any faster than we are now. This is a good, fine speed, and quicker than most other ships this size will be going. We’ve got a solid wind at our backs and the water’s as calm as we can hope for. This is the best speed for us.”

                “I don’t care. I want it faster.”

                “Look, man. Even if I was inclined to speed up, which I’m not, I couldn’t. That wind at our backs? That’ll only let us go so fast. And don’t even try to bring up the runes. Those aren’t what you think they are. They’re for quick bursts of speed. Good for emergencies, not for crossing the ocean. You want us going faster, you need to take it up with the wind.”

                “Fine. Where’s the wind speaker? I know you have one somewhere.”

                “Vik? He’s up on the masthead.”

                Marcus looked up at the top of the large mast. There was no way he was going to go up there. With a few choice words, he had the captain call the man down. And a few minutes later, Marcus and the captain were joined by the wind speaker, Vik.

                “Aye, captain? What can I do for you?”

                “Our...client wants us to go faster. Says you should ask the wind to blow harder.”

                Marcus crossed his arms and nodded.

                “Oh, I see. Hm, no, I don’t think I’ll be doing that.”

                Marcus sputtered. “Wh-what? I’m telling you to you damn layabout!”

                “Well it’s a good thing I don’t answer to you, now isn’t it?” Vik replied. “If that’s all captain, I’ll go back up.”

                “No, it’s not okay!” Marcus shouted. “You control the wind. You get the wind to blow more. That’s it. That’s all you should be doing now.”

                Ever crew member within earshot was paying attention now. They seemed more amused than anything.

                “First of all, I don’t control the wind. I speak to it. You should know that. It’s part of the name. Second, the wind is already blowing as quick as it’s willing to. Or did you think getting a wind like this, in the direction we want at this fair clip is just a coincidence? We’re moving at all because I’ve asked the wind to favor us for this trip. I could just as easily stop that, and then we’d be as likely to be dead in the water as anything else. If I push the wind too hard, it’ll just ignore me. So no, I will not be asking the wind to blow faster unless I absolutely need to. And right now, I don’t absolutely need to.”

                “And there you have it, sir.” The captain said. “We’re moving as fast as we’re going to. And that means you can sit back, relax and enjoy the trip. And if not? We’ll, we’ll just have to find out how a good a swimmer you are, won’t we?”

                Marcus heard the listening sailors chuckle. He looked around and saw wide, unpleasant grins on all their faces. He growled, but held his tongue.

                “Fine. But don’t think I’ll have anything favorable to say about this ship and crew when we get back to port.” He turned on his heels and stormed off to the bunk he had been provided, stewing on his own anger over the incompetence of the crew he had paid so much for. 

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Did I need to add magic and stuff to a story like this? No. No I did not. But I wanted to, so that's what I did.  

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.