Word: Frisson

frisson

[ free-sohn; French free-sawn ]

noun, plural fris·sons [free-sohnz; French free-sawn] /friˈsõʊ̃z; French friˈsɔ̃/.

a sudden, passing sensation of excitement; a shudder of emotion; thrill: The movie offers the viewer the occasional frisson of seeing a character in mortal danger.

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Oh god, oh god, oh god.  Why?  Why am I doing this?  Why did I agree to do this?  I shouldn’t be here.  I can just duck out, right?  Someone else who actually wants to go on this ride can take my place.  I mean, there’s plenty of people who like this sort of thing.  I’d rather stay as far away from this…this death trap as I possibly can.  Oh god, there’s the entrance.  Last chance to get away.  And it’s gone.  Damn it.  Oh man, this is going to kill me, I just know it.  It’ll stop working or break down or something.  Hell, maybe the entire ride will just fall apart.  It could happen, right?  I’ve heard stories about that happening.  Oh, god, the bar.  Safety bar?  More like prison bar.  All this thing’ll do is keep me pinning in the burning wreckage when the ride breaks down.  It’ll happen, just you wait and see.  Maybe there’s still time.  If I tell the workers that I want to get off, maybe they’ll let me.  Welp, too late now.  It started.  And I’m dead.  I am so totally dead.  Everyone on board this ride will now die.  I don’t know how it’ll happen, but it will.  I just know it.  Great, it’s going slow.  More time for something to go wrong.  I hate this.  Oh god, now we’re going up.  Up is bad.  Up is very, very bad.  Up means there’s farther to fall when all the ride’s supports collapse.  And why is it moving so slowly?  Aren’t these things supposed to be fast?  Oh god, what if it’s the speed that’ll do it?  Like, it gets out of control and starts moving faster and faster until all my organs get turned to mush.  And then the supports break.  Why do people go on these again?  Okay we’re at the top.  Great.  Just enough time to see the ground from up here before I meet it face first.  Wait, what’s going on?  What’s happening?  Why do I feel…

“WOOOOOOAAAAHHHHH!”

“AAAAAHHHHHHH!”

“WWWWWAAAAAAA!”

…

Is…is it over?  Is that it?  Did…did I survive?  Nothing broke down?  Wow.  Nothing broke down.  And all my parts are in the right place.  Huh.  Now that I think about it, that was…kind of fun, right?  Like, WHAM!  BAM!  WOOSH!  Is this how it is for all of these rides?  Is that why people go on them?  Wow.  Maybe…maybe I should try more.  I mean, it wasn’t very long, so it won’t take long to see.  For purely experimental reasons, of course.  I have to see how this ride compares to others.  Or…or maybe I could just go on this one again?  You know, to see if it’ll be the same the second time around.  Maybe that would be better.  I mean, I know that this one probably won’t break down.  Yeah, yeah, that’s what I’ll do.  Wait, where are the others?  Why are they leaving?  Don’t they want to go again?  Or another one?  Huh?  The time?  Wow.  I guess the line was longer than I thought.

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I haven't been to amusement parks very often.  I only went to a big one once when I was a kid, and the rest were all small, local fairs or water parks or something.  And now I probably wouldn't have much fun if I went.  Oh well.

Word: Lese Majesty

lese majesty

[lez, leez]

noun

Law .

1. a crime, especially high treason, committed against the sovereign power.
2. an offense that violates the dignity of a ruler. 
3. an attack on any custom, institution, belief, etc., held sacred or revered by numbers of people: Her speech against Mother's Day was criticized as lese majesty.

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               The courtroom was deathly silent. Men in well-polished, slightly dented armor stood stock still, spears or swords at the ready.  Others dressed in robes stood by the walls with floating gems suspended between steepled fingers.  The judge loomed over them all, staring down at the accused, while those few who had been allowed to view the trial kept as still as the armed guards.

               The accused had been bound to a sturdy chair with thick ropes.  His face sported small stubble, but was otherwise unmarked.  His dark eyes showed none of the fear that others in his position usually did, and his dirty prison clothes did little to diminish the aura of power and authority he exuded.

               The judge’s powerful voice rang out, filling the courtroom.  “We are here for the trial of Venital Brenma.  The charges are treason, speaking of slanderous words, spreading false information, inciting rebellion, and the practice of forbidden magics.  How do you plead?”

               Venital cocked his head from side to side.  “None.  I plead for nothing and no one.”

               The wrinkles on the judge’s face deepened.  “Hm.  Well, as much as I would love to consider that a plea of guilty and see you hanged immediately, the rule of law says otherwise.  As such, this court will recognize it as a plea of not guilty.”

               “Whatever suits you.”

               “We shall now commence with the trial.  Present the evidence of the first charge.” 

               Men dressed in fine clothes came forward with various documents and gems loaded with recording magics.  They were played for those in attendance of the trial.  Everything pointed to the bound man’s guilt.  It was the same with his other charges.  Everything brought forth painted him as one aiming to bring down the country with magic that was unthinkable to those who practiced the craft.  And through it all, Venital’s calm demeanor never changed or waivered for a second.

               “All the evidence has been heard.” The judge said when the last piece of evidence had been heard.  “Before the verdict is delivered, does the accused have anything to say?”

               “Oh, many things.” Venital said.  “First of all, none of that which I have done should be considered a crime.”

               “The laws say otherwise.”

               “Yes, the laws.  Those old, outdated things that have not been changed in well over two hundred years.  Hardly a good standard of modern justice.  Actually, you should all be thanking me.  You see, this country has stagnated.  It is rotting from the inside out.  It needs to change.  It needs to be brought forth from the pits into a newer, better form.  But, as it is now, that won’t happen.  Everything will stay the same and continue to rot until the country dies a slow and painful death. 

               “You need me.  You need me to save this country from itself.  In fact, you might even say I’m one of the few true patriots left.  Everything I’ve done is to advance this nation.  To keep up with our neighbors that don’t shy away from experimentation, development, and new practices.  Without me, or someone like me, we will be wiped out easily.  So, you see, you cannot put me to death.  I’m the best hope all of you have.”

               “I see.” The judge said.  “If all you have are the ravings of a deluded madman, then I see no reason to delay your sentence any longer.  I find you guilty of all charges.  You will be executed before the public via beheading.”

               “I see.  Such a shame.  I was hoping not to have to kill so many people today.”

               “You, sir, truly are deluded.  How will you kill anyone now?  You have no mage gems to call upon your unearthly magics, you bear no weapons, and are tightly bound.”

               “You see?  This is why things need to change.”

               The way the bound man said it put the guards and mages on edge.  They gripped their weapons tighter or started placing magical power into their chosen gems. 

               Venital continued, ignoring the increased preparedness of those around him.  “Had things been allowed to progress, you would all know something.  The mages especially.  This is something your, ahem, fine institution either doesn’t know, or has been hiding.”

               “And what is this information that would allow you to escape?”

               “Mage gems are a useful tool.” Venital said smoothly.  “They allow us to channel magic easily, and can even hold a spell almost indefinitely, ready to cast at a moment’s notice.  As far as our mages are concerned, they are the only way to use magic properly.  But, the thing is that as long as one is sufficiently familiar with the spell, mage gems are, in fact, not necessary.”

               The ropes glowed for a moment before being consumed by brilliant light and heat.  Venital stood and smiled.

               “Now then, I believe I shall start the reformation of this country with this very courtroom.”  

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 Sorry for cutting it off before the inevitable, no doubt totally awesome action scene.  Hey, I gotta save something for another day.  Maybe I'll revisit this in another story, or even in a longer format.  You never know.  It might happen.  Just because my track record says otherwise, it doesn't mean it won't happen.  

STOP LOOKING AT MEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Word: Alacrity

alacrity

[uh-lak-ri-tee]

noun

cheerful readiness, promptness, or willingness: We accepted the invitation with alacrity.

liveliness; briskness.

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              Sam and Mark stood near the water cooler and watched the new hire, Rachel, go about her job.  The young woman moved quickly and with a smile constantly plastered to her face.

               “How do you think she does it?” Sam asked, watching her dash around the halls with papers held under both her arms.

               “Do what?” Mark replied.

               “Smile like that.  It’s like she actually enjoys working here.”

               “So?”

               “So nobody likes working here.  Everyone here just does it for the paycheck.  And yet, here she is, smiling and running around.”

               Mark shrugged and took a sip of the small paper cup of water.  A few other coworkers trudged through the halls with far less enthusiasm than Rachel had shown.  All of them wore dull, vacant looks on their faces.

               “See?  See those guys?  They get it.” Sam said.  “Honestly, I’d say she’s making the rest of us look bad, but I don’t think our bosses care all that much.”

               “Meh.  It’s fine, even if she does start making us look bad.”  Mark said.  “She’s the office brown noser, you know.”

               “You say that like it’s a good thing.” Sam gulped down his cup and immediately refilled it.

               “It is.  Look, every office needs a good brown noser.  It’s vital for a stable, productive office.”

               “Explain.”

               “A good brown noser will do anything to make the boss happy.  They’ll do the jobs nobody else wants to, finish all the projects nobody else cares about, and just generally get the work done.  And they’ll do it quickly and with a smile on their face.  Eventually, the boss will catch on and start trying to get everyone else to do the same thing.  They won’t, of course.  That’s impossible.  But a few people might actually try and work a bit harder, if only to keep themselves out of hot water.  I’d say after a few weeks of Rachel being here, overall office productivity will go up.”

               “Huh.  Why do they do it though?”

               “Do you really need to ask?  It’s in the name.  They do it to suck up to the boss with the hopes of moving up on the corporate ladder.  It’s not that she cares about the job, she just has to act like she does.  Eventually, she’ll get promoted because of all this, and the cycle will continue.”

               Rachel dashed by, almost bumping into a group of slower employees. 

               “Think so?”

               “Oh yeah, definitely.  I’ve seen it happen before.  Hell, I was once an office brown noser when I was younger.  Got me pretty far, then the company went bankrupt and I just couldn’t muster up the energy to do it all again.”

               “Huh.  Maybe I should try being a brown noser.  Can’t be that hard.  Just smile and run around.”

               “Nah.  That’s a terrible idea.”

               “Why?”
               “One brown noser is good.  It ups production all around.  Two is manageable, but barely.  Any more than that, and everything starts collapsing.  Thing is, one can be ignored most of the time. Get another one, and people start thinking they’ll do better if they imitate the brown noser, and that can only lead to chaos.”

               “Huh.”

               “It’s why my last job went under.  Too many brown nosers.  There wasn’t enough work for them all to do their thing properly.  They all tried to one up the others, and things spiraled out of control real fast.  Trust me, stick with what you know.  Leave the sucking up to the new girl and everything’ll be fine.”

               Sam shrugged and nodded.  He did not care enough to try and act so cheerful and energetic anyway.  He polished off his glass and turned to the clock.

               “Right, well, breaks over.  See you later.”

               Mark nodded and headed back to work.  After all, they still had to do their jobs, whether they liked them or not.

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Let it be known that I am not the office suck up.  Never have been, and probably never will be.  I just haven't really cared all that much about any of the jobs I've had.  I know it's bad of me to say, but it's the truth.