Word: Rogue

rogue

---

noun

1. a dishonest, untrustworthy person; scoundrel.

   We were traveling in secret to avoid running into rogues and thieves.

2. a playfully mischievous person; scamp.

   The youngest boys are little rogues.

3. Archaic. a tramp or vagabond.

4. an animal having an abnormally violent or unpredictable disposition.

5. Biology. a usually inferior organism, especially a plant, varying markedly from the normal.

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

                “Okay, so, we’re in agreement. We need a rogue.” Henry said, nursing his ale. He did not have any intention to actually drink it, but they were in a tavern. It would be weird not to have a drink.

                “Unfortunately.” Lilly grumbled. “Let’s just hope that whoever we get isn’t a brooding edgelord with an obsession with a ‘dark and tragic past.’”

                “I’m sure it won’t be that bad.” Henry said. “Those were all cliches even back home. I’m sure here it’ll be different.”

                Lilly, Jack and Claire looked at him. While none of them replied, Henry could tell what they were all thinking. They had been in this world for just under a month, and so far, the story cliches from their world were proving to be disturbingly accurate.

                “Okay, fine. Whatever. That doesn’t matter. It’s also a cliché that they become much more team oriented and trustworthy after a few adventures, so we should be okay. Now, let’s all split and meet up here in a few hours to look for one.”

                “Found one.” Jack said.

                “What?”

                “I found a rogue.”

                This time it was the large man’s turn to be the center of skeptical looks from the other three.

                “He’s over there in the corner, looking right at us.” Jack tilted his head in the direction he claimed the rogue was.

                Sure enough, there was a slender man dressed entirely in dark leathers. Seemingly random bits of metal were attached to the outfit, and he had more knives and daggers than were strictly necessary. He wore a black cloak with his hook over his eyes, but it was still obvious the man was looking at them.

                “Okay, yeah. That’s definitely a rogue.” Lilly said.

After a little pause, three calls of “not it” rang out, with the fourth a split second too late. Henry let out a quiet swear. He stood and grumbled his way to the rogue. The black clad man quickly looked away, but sat a tiny bit straighter. Interest while trying to seem disinterested?

                “You a rogue?” Henry asked when he got close enough to talk to the man.

                “I am one with the shadows.” The man said. His voice sounded like someone trying to speak in a dark and mysterious voice.

                “Uh, okay, sure.

                Now that he was closer, Henry could see more details about the man. His face, the bottom of which was covered by a cloth mask, bore the look of one who was excited but trying to act like they were not. And all of his equipment was of the highest quality. His leathers were freshly oiled and polished as well as any metal. His knives were as much show pieces as weapons. This man came from wealth, that was for sure. Either that, or he had stolen it all from someone who had. And most surprising of all, was that he did not have a mug or cup filled with anything.

                 “My party is looking for a good rogue. Someone who can scout, pick locks and deal with traps. And, of course, someone who isn’t afraid of a good fight.”

                “I live on the edge of danger.” The rogue said, drawing out that last ‘r’ sound a few seconds longer than needed. Henry could tell the man wanted to draw a dagger. Probably to hold it by the point.

                “I’ll take that as a yes. I’m Henry the swordsman, my party members are Jack, our tank, Lilly, our healer, and Claire, our mage. And you are?”

                “They call me…Dark…Shadow…Blood…Blade.”

                Henry sighed at the obviously fake name that the rogue had clearly just made up in that moment. Henry could tell what he was dealing with. It was obvious. This was not an edgelord. This was a man trying to be an edgelord.  And from the looks of his gear, some rich noble who was doing this for kicks or a bet. He was not sure if that was better or worse.

                “Okay, fine. Dark Shadow Blood Blade. Let’s go meet the others and see if you’re a good fit for our party.”

                He turned to head back to the others. As he went, he heard something that sounded suspiciously like a teenage boy saying “nailed it” under his breath. Great. A noble’s son then. Hopefully he was actually decent. And that they could keep the kid alive long enough to not have some noble hunting them down.

Word: Schlep

schlep

[shlep] / ʃlɛp /

Also schlepp sometimes shlep,

verb (used with object)

Slang.

schlepped, schlepping

1. to carry; lug.

   to schlep an umbrella on a sunny day.

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

                Why was everything so heavy? Nick was not thinking that on a conscious level, but some part of him certainly was. His conscious mind was too busy spouting out complaints to think about anything else.

                “Oh, stop complaining. It’s not that heavy.” Jill said from the landing.

                Nick plopped the large box he was lugging around. It was not a stable setting, but he needed to rest. His arms felt like Jello. The very thought of carrying more of them brought him to the edge of despair.

                “Easy for you to say.” He said through deep breaths. “I can’t bench twice my own body weight like some people.”

                “Twice? You need to update your info. I’m up to triple.” Jill said with obvious pride.

                “Okay, that just makes the fact that you’re not helping so much worse.”

                “What’re you talking about? I am helping. I’m handling the lighter stuff, while you, the big strong man, handle the big heavy stuff.” Jill said in an overly mocking voice.

                Nick groaned. Jill was great in a lot of ways, but damn did she hold a grudge.

                “You’re still on about that? It was last week, and I was drunk when I said it.”

                Jill crossed her arms over her chest. “Uh-huh. And you say that like it should matter.”

                “It does, yes. And you know it does. I mean, come on. How much of what you say when your drunk do you mean the next day?”

                Jill looked like she was about to say something, but did not. Instead, she found a sudden interest in the railing. He did not say anything either.

                “Okay, maybe you have a point about that.” She admitted. Nick could tell it was a reluctant admission, but he would take it. “But it still hurt you know. I worked really hard to get where I am. And then to hear my own boyfriend compare me to some…some She-Hulk—”

                “Wait, hold on. That’s what you’re mad about?”

                “Well, yeah. Shouldn’t I be?”

                “Jill, you haven’t watched any of those Marvel shows when they were on, have you?”

                “No. I don’t really like all that superhero stuff.”

                “So you don’t know who She-Hulk is?”

                “It’s a character? Not, like, a monster or something?”

                Nick pulled out his phone and did a quick search. He groaned slightly as he climbed the few steps to her. Then he showed her the image.

                “That’s…”

                “That’s She-Hulk. The superhero.”

                “So…you were comparing me to…her?”

                “Yup.”

                She worked her jaw for a moment, looking at the image on the screen. “So…you don’t think that I’m some big ugly thing and that only men should have muscles?”

                “No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

                “I just…the name, you know? It sounds like some big horrible bulky monster, so I just kind of assumed.”

                “There’s no way I would ever think something like that. Especially about you.”

                “Ah. So, uh, I…I’m just going to go help move some boxes now. And, uh, sorry about…all that.”

                Nick sighed in relief as he watched her go down and lift the box that he had struggled with like it was nothing. He was glad this was an easy issue to resolve. Now he just needed to make sure not to make her mad about anything that was not fixable with a  quick online search.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

Word: billet-doux

billet-doux

American  

[bil-ey-doo, bil-ee-, bee-yey-doo] / ˈbɪl eɪˈdu, ˈbɪl i-, bi yeɪˈdu /

noun

billets-doux

1. a love letter.

  **************************

                Jake trudged through the hallway. His stomach and side hurt from the fists that had been buried in them before school started. It was almost comical, really. In the modern day and age, where digital bullying was more common, he got stuck with the old school kind. The kind that loved to do their bullying with fists and aggression than with nasty comments and rumors.

                And what made it worse was that nobody cared. Everyone knew what was going on. They were not smart enough to hide their deeds. But nobody cared for one reason or another. The staff gave a token effort to deal with the problem, but nothing actually happened.

                He reached his locker and winced slightly as he opened it. Jake was about to get the books inside when he paused. There was an envelope there. It was resting on top of his things. Likely slipped through the grates in the locker door. It was likely either a prank or meant for someone else. He took it to see if there was a name on it. There was. It was his. And by running his hands along it he found that it probably had nothing but paper inside.

                Probably just some jerk writing out a bunch of insults for him. Well, he would find out when he got the chance. He did not have time right now, but maybe during lunch. He slipped it into a pocket, got his things and went to class.

                When it was finally lunch time, Jake slipped out and went to a bathroom. There was no point in actually eating in the cafeteria. He would just get his food taken by one of his bullies. Either that, or it would end up on his clothes for the same reason. He entered a stall, sat and pulled out the note.

                Inside was not a string of insults. It was a note. Practically a letter. Handwritten, too. He did not recognize the handwriting, but then again, he did not go around studying his classmate’s penmanship. He sighed and started to read.

                Dear Jake,

                I know it’s hard for you. I see what happens to you. I hear about it all the time. I wish I could do more to help. I’ve tried to do something to help you, but nobody pays attention. Not even to me. But just because some people are jerks towards you, doesn’t mean nobody likes you. I like you. I really like you. I think I may even love you. It’s hard to tell right now. I’m sure it seems weird to you, and you’re probably thinking this is some prank by a bunch of jerks. I can’t offer you any proof, not in a letter like this. But I promise it’s not a prank. I love you, Jake. At least, I’m pretty sure I do. And I’ll find a way to help you. I don’t know how yet, but I will. Somehow. But for now, just know you’re not as alone as you think you are.

                                                                                                Love,

                                                                                                L

                Jake read and reread the letter. His hands shook as he read. He was not sure if he believed the words written there. After all, who could love him? And he had no idea who it could be. It was not like a single letter signature told him much.

                He knew it had to be a joke. A prank of some kind. He had no idea what the angle was yet, but there was one. He just knew it. And yet…

                Deep down, Jake wondered. Wondered if this could be real. If there was someone out there who loved him. He knew it was probably not real. But he wanted it to be. He gripped the single sheet of paper like it would solve all his problems. It may have been a false hope, but it was more than he had.

                Jake kept reading the letter, right up until his tears started staining the paper.