Word: Ramshackle

ramshackle

[ram-shak-uhl] / ˈræmˌʃæk əl /

adjective

1. loosely made or held together; rickety; shaky.

   a ramshackle house.

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                “No.”

                The single word made Jill deflate like a balloon. She had been so sure her latest design would impress. To be shut down so firmly was not what she expected.

                “What? Why not?” She asked.

                “Why not? Why not?” Jack replied. “Look at the damn thing!”

                He pointed at Jill’s latest attempt at making a combat bot. The thing was barely four feet tall, and looked like it had been thrown together by materials sourced from a scrap heap. Each panel was made of a different kind of metal, many of which were covered with rust. It walked on three legs with joints that were barely holding together. The head had optical receivers that were cracked in several places. The four arms had clumsy, heavy blunt weapons at the ends of them instead of something actually useful. And to top it all off, the thing was held together by screws and rivets instead of proper welds.  

                Jack was amazed that it was even standing upright instead of collapsing into a pile of scrap metal. The fact that it moved was a miracle itself. He figured it would fall apart with a good, solid kick.

                “What’s wrong with it?” Jill asked.

                “You’re joking, right? It’s a piece of junk. And I do mean that literally. I’d be amazed if it stays together for more than a week.”

                Jill shuffled nervously. “It…it’s a prototype. It’s not finished. This is just to test the design.”

                “You built a prototype out of junk? Jill, we’ve talked about this. Designs are to be tested on paper and in sims. Prototypes are for real world testing of the tech. You’re meant to use them for when you have something new you want to try and a computer can’t simulate it. This is not a prototype. This is scrap metal.”

                “Come on, Jack, you know I can’t work like that. Sims don’t capture the real flow of the design. A computer just can’t get everything looking and acting like it will in the real world. I have to build it. It’s the only way to really see if the design works. I’ll make it nicer once we have an actually design to work with.”

                Jack signed heavily. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Fine. You want to criticize the design? Lets do that. Legs. No. There’s a reason treads and wheels are standard on war machines. Legs, even a tripod design, are finicky, tough to balance and hard to use. Theoretically they’re better at rough terrain, but we’re not using this for a warzone, we’re using this for competition. Four arms. Damn near impossible to control and balance. Especially since we’d want a different weapon type in each arm to have something to use against most opponents. Plus, they’ll be weaker overall than two, since the power draw will have to be distributed among all of them. There’s no room for armor either, which will put us at a major disadvantage. I could go on.”

                “Oh. Great. I get it. You don’t want me to innovate. You want a nice, safe design with a few stripes to make it unique.”

                “I didn’t say that. I’m just pointing out a few obvious problems. You can’t just do whatever you think looks cool. It has to work in the arena.”

                Jill huffed. “Fine! You want an arena bot with nothing new about it? That’s what I’ll give you.”

                She stormed off, forgetting the rickety bot in the middle of the room. Jack groaned. He could go after her, but he did not. Doing that never worked out well for either of them. He would just have to wait until she cooled off and then they could have another conversation. Hopefully one that was more productive.  

Word: Erstwhile

erstwhile

[urst-hwahyl, -wahyl] / ˈɜrstˌʰwaɪl, -ˌwaɪl /

adjective

1. former; of times past.

   erstwhile friends.

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

As he walked down the well-lit hallway, Ben could only take in the ambiance. The place was quite nice. The floor had a carpet with a well-designed pattern of red, gold and silver. The walls were covered with high quality art from a variety of periods and artists. Well maintained potted plants were positioned between the art, giving a wide variety of colors to the place. Really, there were only two things he could complain about.

The first was the ambient sound. It was not music of any kind. It was ticking. Lots of ticking. Like there were hundreds of clocks, all of which were on slightly different tempos. It was quite distracting.

The second problem Ben had with his current location was that he had no idea where he was. He had been going to pick up a few things, but when he opened the door, it led to the hall. He had been walking along the hallway for several minutes now, and he just got more and more confused with each step.

Eventually, the hallway did change. He came across a door in a wall. It was a moderately ornate wooden door, decorated with images of various time pieces. Clocks, sundials, and even the occasional hourglass were all represented. And Ben could tell the ticking was coming from the other side. Seeing that he had nothing better to do, Ben opened it.

The room was massive. So large he could not see the walls, and the one behind him vanished into the distance. The place was filled with massive shelves, each one filled with clocks. The ticking of those countless clocks was nearly deafening. Ben covered his ears in an attempt to save his hearing, but the ticking did not seem to be affected.

Ben turned to leave, but the door had somehow vanished. Ben furiously looked around, running all over the place, but he could not find the way out. Instead, he found something else. A person. He was a man that looked to be in his late 50s or early 60s, and was dressed in a very well-made three-piece suit. The man even had a top hat, a monocle, and even a mustache that seemed made for the outfit. The two looked at each other for a moment. After a few second, the clock ticking grew quieter. It did not go away, but just became tolerable.

“My apologies for the volume. It has been so long since a human came here.” The man said.

“Uh…sure? What…what’s going on? Where is this? Who are you?”

“Ah, so many questions. If there is one thing humans are good for, it is curiosity. Well then, I am called the Clock Keeper. A rather on-the-nose descriptor, if I do say so myself. But yes, that is what I am called. And this place is the Hall of Time. You can guess why.”

“Uh…sure. That tells me remarkably little though.”

“Oh? You have not heard of this place? I suppose I should not be surprised. It has been so long since your people have been here. It seems like your long absence has made you forget about places such as this one. I do miss those days. I can be quite lonely here, even for one such as myself.”

“Wait, people used to come here? I’m guessing this isn’t just some room with a lot of clocks. And…what exactly are you? You look like a normal person.”

“I am indeed not human. You see me as such because you are human. Other races will see me as one of their own. And you are correct, this is indeed not a normal room, nor are these normal clocks. Each one is a moment in time. Eternally preserved here, in this great Hall.”

Ben looked around. They certainly did not look like a “moment in time.” Of course, he did not know what a moment was supposed to look like.

“So, uh, what do I do here? And how do I leave?”

“It is simple. While here, you may view at your leisure any moment in time you wish. You will not go there in truth, so you may only observe. But with all of time at your disposal, it can be quite an adventure. As for how you leave? That is simple. View one of the moments, and the door leading back to your home shall appear. Once it has, all you need to do is step through it.”

“Huh. Handy. So I just, what, pick a clock and…do something with it?”

“Touch it. The moment will appear before you.”

“Great. I do love it when it’s simple. So, can I look into the future with these?”

“I am afraid not. That is a different place. This Hall only preserves the moments that have already past, not those that will come.”

Ben knew it was a bit of a long shot, but he had to ask. And it was not like this was such a bad thing. Being able to directly observe history, even if it was only a snapshot, was very valuable. If he could figure out how to come back here, it could answer a lot of questions. He would ask about that later. But first it was time to get a look at the good old days.

Word: Reify

reify 

[ree-uh-fahy, rey-] / ˈri əˌfaɪ, ˈreɪ- /

verb (used with object)

reified, reifying

1. to convert into or regard as a concrete thing.

   to reify a concept.

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                “So, this book will give me a special power?” Dave asked.

                The book was thin, looking to have only twenty or thirty pages. The cover was very nice though. It looked like it was made of leather, with gold and silver embossing covering it in intricate patterns. There was no title, or any other words on the cover.

                “That is correct.”

                The one who spoke looked to be a beautiful woman dressed in flowing white robes. She was also around ten feet tall and emitted a very slight divine glow. She sat upon a marble throne built for her stature. The thing was nearly as elaborate as the book was, and seemed to give off a feeling of something even beyond royalty.

                “However,” The woman continued, “I do not currently know what power the book holds. It will only manifest when you open it.”

                “So you’re giving me an unknown power? What if I get a bad one? And why don’t you know what the power is? Didn’t you make the book?”

                “The book will not give you a bad power. Even if it seems weak, that is only because of the limitations of your own mind. As for why I do not currently know what power you will get? That is because right now, it does not exist. The power will be made for you. Your mind, your soul, your body. All of it will go into creating the power when you open it. As it is, it is merely the concept of power. The idea of it. Opening it will make it real, and reading it will grant it to you.”

                Dave thought it sounded a bit sketchy. And she had still not told him why she was giving him a power at all. She said she was a goddess, but not her name. There had to be a catch.”

                “What’s the catch?”

                “Catch?”

                “Why are you doing this? What do I have to do for you? What’s the downside?”

                “There is no downside, unless the power comes with one. Your other two questions I cannot truly answer right now. Just know that I grant you think power because you will need it for what is to come. And no, I will not tell you what that is.”

                “Can I refuse?”

                “You may. But I would not recommend it. It will result in several problems for you in the future.”

                “And of course, you won’t tell me what those problems are.” He sighed. “Fine, fine. Might as well see what this is all about.”

                Dave opened the book. He felt something. A tugging on something he did not even know existed. The tug was replaced by a warmth flowing through him in the same way. Like something had been taken and then put back.

                He looked at the book’s title page.

                “Reification? What’s that mean?”

                The so-called goddess closed her eyes and a slow smile crossed her lips. “That is a fine power. A top quality one. It will allow you to turn concepts into reality. To turn a mere idea into something real.”

                Dave thought about it. “That sounds complicated. Can’t I just get something to throw fire or something?”

                “Ah, but with this power, you can do that. Yes, it will indeed be difficult to use, especially when you first learn it. Certainly more difficult that pyromancy. But the limits are nearly endless. Let us say you wish to, as you put it, throw fire. You can use your power to turn the idea of fire into a real flame. And then the idea of that fire moving into reality. It might not be easy, but with this power, you can change the world.”

                Dave looked at the ornate book. At the single word written on the page.

                “Huh. That does sound good. I guess I’d better get reading then.”