Word: Totis viribus

 

totis viribus

[ toh-tis -wee-ri-boos; English toh-tis -vir-uh-buhs ] 

 

adverb Latin.

1. with all one's might.

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               Jimmy looked around at the small crowd that had gathered, and then at the long, padded mallet in his hands. It was heavier than he thought it would be, but he was strong. Even if the bigger kids said he was weak, he knew he was strong. Besides, this would not be too hard. The strength test game was only a little taller than he was.

               “Let’s give him a round of applause!” The announcer called. The people clapped politely. Most of the sound came from the rest of the carnival and his parents, who stood by watching and smiling. “Remember kiddo, three tries to ring the bell and win a prize. Give it a go.”

               Jimmy raised the mallet and brought it down quickly. The hopper jumped a little bit but fell quickly. The announcer told him it was a good try, and to keep going. Jimmy raised the hammer and took a deep breath. That was only his first try, and he had not put much into it. This time would be better.

               He swung with everything his arms could bring to bear. The hopper rose a lot higher this time. It went almost halfway up the game but did not reach the bell. Jimmy was getting scared. What if he could not do it? What if he was as weak as the bullies said he was? No, that could not be. He knew he was strong, his dad said so. And dads were never, ever wrong.

               He looked over at his dad, who smiled and nodded. Jimmy watched the man lean back a little, and then pat his stomach. Jimmy thought about that for a moment. Was his dad giving him a hint? And what did it mean? His brow furrowed as his thoughts raced. Then, as he watched his dad doing the same thing again, he understood. Or at least, he thought he did.

               Jimmy turned back to the game and took a deep breath. He raised the mallet high over his head and leaned back much as he could. Then he tightened his stomach and used it to help his swing. He brought it down with every bit of strength he could muster. This time, when the mallet hit the metal pad, he felt the hit in his arms. And he heard it. A tinny little ding.

               He had done it! He had hit the bell!

               “And we’ve got a winner!” The announcer called. “Nice work, kiddo. Now here’s your prize.”

The small audience clapped. His parents clapped louder than anyone. Jimmy broke out in a huge smile as the announcer handed him a huge stuffed dog. The toy was almost as big as he was, and Jimmy hugged it close.

His parents led him away from the game. His dad offered to carry the stuffed dog for him, since it looked heavy. It was, but Jimmy wanted to hold it. There was no need for his dad’s help this time. After all, he was strong enough to handle it. 

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It's the simple things in life, you know? The little things that just make life all the better, no matter what else happens.

Word: Capacious

 

capacious

[ kuh-pey-shuhs ] 

adjective

 

1. capable of holding much; spacious or roomy: a capacious storage bin.

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               Jeff stared wide eyed and open mouth. He thought this was the stuff of stories, and yet, here it was. Two people that had appeared in his bedroom in a burst of light. One was a man wearing armor polished to a mirror shine, with a sword almost as big as he was strapped to his back. The other was a woman wearing elaborate robes and carrying a staff that seemed to glow. And both of them were freakishly good looking. Jeff swore that they came out of some teenager’s imagination when asked to think about comic book characters in a fantasy setting.

               The two looked around and saw Jeff, still sitting on his bed. The man smiled and said something in a language Jeff did not recognize. When the only response the swordsman got was a blank stare, the woman said something, then smacked the larger man upside the head. The two bickered back and forth for a moment. Just long enough for Jeff to begin seeing a family resemblance. Both had the same clear blue eyes and vibrant brown hair. Both had the same distinctive jawline and cheekbones.

               When the siblings stopped arguing, the woman spoke again. The words she used were different though. Deeper, somehow. Like she was speaking to the world itself. Her staff pulsed and a bright light settled on Jeff. He felt something in his mind. A presence he could not begin to fathom. It was not unpleasant though. More like an old friend who was just there to ask a few questions. The feeling quickly retreated, leaving Jeff more confused than ever. Was that magic? Real magic?

               “Now then, can you understand me?” The woman asked.

               “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I can.”

               “Good. I’m sorry for my idiot brother.” She said, glaring at the swordsman. “He spoke without letting me cast my translation spell. It was quite rude, and I’ll ensure he doesn’t step out of line again.”

               “Uh, sure. Yeah, Okay. No, uh, no problem.”

               “Excellent. My name is Evora, and my brother is Eron. And you are?”

               “Jeff.”

               “Jeff? What an odd name. We must have traveled quite far.”

               “Oh yeah. A lot farther than you think, I bet.” Jeff had no idea where they were from, but he was willing to bet he had never heard of it, nor had they heard of Philadelphia.

               “I’m sure. If you’re willing, perhaps you can aid us? We do need a guide. I don’t know if you’ll accept this as payment, but we have plenty of coin, and gold is usually a fairly safe bet for money.”

               She reached into a small bag at her hip. She frowned a moment, muttered something in her original language, then shoved her entire hand into the bag. It was smaller than a fanny pack, but her hand disappeared below the wrist. She must have found what she was looking for, as she withdrew a small pouch, where she emptied a few gold coins into her hand.

               “That’s uh, that’s quite the bag you got there.” Jeff said, focusing more on that than the gold.

               “Hm? Oh, yes, the dimensional bag. It’s quite useful. Much bigger than it looks, you know. You don’t have these in this country?”

               “Nope. We have stories about them, but they’re just stories.”

               “Oh, that’s too bad. I know they aren’t all that common, but every good adventurer should have one. They make travel so much easier. If you like, I can make one for you, instead of gold.”

               “You…can make those?”

               “Oh yes. I’m quite the enchanter, you know. I can make all kinds of magic items.”

               “And your brother?”

               “Oh no. He’s not magically gifted. He just has brute strength on his side.”

               The man in question was looking from Jeff to his sister and back again with a confused look on his face.

               “He…doesn’t understand us, does he?”

               “No. I didn’t cast my spell on him. Let him stew for a while. That’ll teach him some manners.”

               Jeff shuddered. He was very glad his sister did not have magical powers. That would have made growing up with her unbearable, instead of just highly annoying.

               “Okay, putting that aside, Evora, right? I think we can work out a deal. You make me one of those dimension bag things, and I’ll show you around town.”

               “Wonderful.” She said with a glowing smile.

               “You and your brother will need some new clothes though. You two stand out too much like this.”

               “I have plenty of spares in my bag.”

               “Well then, I’ll show you where you can change, and then we can get started.”

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Ah, the Bag of Holding. One of the greatest creations of fantasy every. Others way swear by the ever classic fire sword, and the magic shield. But we all know the real star of the show is the bag that can hold as much stuff as a typical warehouse.  Where would games and stories be without them?

Word: Finagle

 

finagle

[ fi-ney-guhl ]

---

verb (used with object), fi·na·gled, fi·na·gling.

1. to trick, swindle, or cheat (a person) (often followed by out of): He finagled the backers out of a fortune.

2. to get or achieve (something) by guile, trickery, or manipulation: to finagle an assignment to the Membership Committee.

verb (used without object), fi·na·gled, fi·na·gling.

3. to practice deception or fraud; scheme.

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               Josh watched his roommate’s door open and a young woman with frazzled hair walk out. She paused when she saw him. Her cheeks started to turn red as their eyes met. It only lasted for a moment before she headed for the door. Josh’s roommate, Ed, followed a few seconds later, whistling as he did.

               “You are a horrible human being, you know that?” Josh said.

               “I don’t know what you mean.” Ed replied as he made his way into the kitchen.

               “That woman. What’d you tell her? Were you a doctor today? Or maybe you work in a recording booth and can jump start her career.”

               “Nah. Those are way too played out. I told her I’m an aspiring artist and will use her visage to create my first real masterpiece. She ate it up.”

               “And you don’t feel at all bad for tricking women like that, do you?”

               “Why should I?” Ed replied while peeking over the top of the fridge as he rummaged through for some breakfast.

               “You know, this is why you don’t have a girlfriend. If you stopped lying, stopped trying to trick and steal and forge your way through life, you might be able to find someone you actually like and not have to rely on one night stands for companionship.”

               “Eh. Girlfriends are a pain. Always nagging and making choices for you. Hassel all around. Besides, everyone knows women are only good for a very small number of things. Being in a relationship means they feel enabled to try to do things outside that very limited skillset.”

               “Don’t let Emily hear you say that. She will kick your ass.”

               Josh would not actually mind seeing his kickboxer girlfriend doing just that. Ed was definitely one of the more deserving individuals Josh knew.

               “Pf, she can try. Trained or not, she’s still a woman, and I’m still a man. Anyway, we’re out of milk.”

               Josh knew they were not out of milk. Or at least, they were not when he had gone into the fridge. Sure enough, Ed was there with the carton in his hand, taking regular swigs of it. Why he did that, Josh had no idea.

               “Uh huh. You’re getting more you know.”

               “That’s fine. I just came into quite the sum.”

               “You stole it from that woman, didn’t you?”

               “I didn’t steal it. I borrowed it. She was fully aware that I took some cash out of her wallet. Said I would use it to buy supplies for my grand work.”

               “Borrow, huh? And will you ever pay her back?”

               “Sure, sure. Once I hit it big in the art world, I’ll call her up and pay her back with interest.”

               “Let me guess, you conveniently forgot to get her number. Or her name.”

               “It might have slipped my mind.”

               Josh sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He really needed to get a new roommate. One that was not an unrepentant scam artist.

               “You really are the worst.”

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 Ladies, should you find yourself going home with a guy from a bar, keep an eye out, okay? Stay safe, stay alert, and make sure your phone is in easy reach. Guys can say a lot of things to get some action, and they don't always have honorable intents towards the lady they accompany.