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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Four Words


Gwaihir

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"Can you see that shimmering in the distance?" Olaf asked pointing at the northern lights illuminating the distant night sky. "Legends say that the cosmic particles which create that shimmering are the manifestations of the spirits of those who have already departed." I remembered having the shivers the first time I had been told that story by my father, long years ago. I was shocked out of my daydreaming by the croaking of a toad nearby. My skin shivered as I slowly put down my fright, reminding myself that there was nothing to fear from frogs or toads.

 

postcard

firerose

silence

phantom

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  • 2 weeks later...
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Firerose shook her head sadly as she looked down at the contents of her bag. How in the world was she supposed to silence "Runs with Scissors", a screeching phantom, with only a postcard and a screwdriver?

 

Torpedo

Frowzy

Mantra

Poindexter

Edited by Alaeha
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"Just look at you sailor! How can you keep your clothes so frowzy? This is intolerable for someone serving in Her Royal Majesty's Navy! I sometimes wish that I did not have to put up with such worthless idiots like you and Thompson, that mantra-ic idiot! I could swear that whenever I see him he's staring at that symbol of his. If Rear Admiral Poindexter could see this...what would I do if I had to count on the two of you to load the torpedos for me?" the captain rambled on and on...

 

 

next words:

 

ambidextrous

lachanophobia

satanophany

yeast

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"You are clearly not taking my class seriously, the teacher's voice rumbled. This is Satanophany 402 and a scary vegetable is not and will never be a good excuse for needing an extension!"

 

"But, Ma'am, I have serious lachanophobia! It's hard to think about being possessed by...

 

"Silence! You will have the paper to me on time or else. Perhaps He will wish to come and possess you. It might be good for the class to watch you torture yourself to death. Yes indeed that might be the yeast that leavens this whole rotten bunch of scoundrels.

 

Oh, and what's your topic? I will look for yours on top."

 

"Umm, I'm doing a paper titled 'Talents Gained While Possessed: The Ambidextrous Manifestation of Josephine Barz' and um, rrm, I think I'd better go start." And with that the trembling demonolgist turned and ran for his scrolls and quills.

 

scofflaw

scouring

solicitude

scorpion

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  • 1 month later...

seeing the words Ryu quickly grabbed a scorpion skin book and started scouring it.

Aura runs up and grabbes him from behind and looks over his shoulder. "Whatcha doin' Master??"

Ryu looks at her with a look of irritation, "Get off. I'm looking for the definition of scofflaw, and solicitude!"

 

next words:

magic

sorceror

curse

regents

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The hero leant heavily on his trusty steel sword, staring directly into the yellow, slitted eyes of the monster. It had been an epic battle, yet after a long struggle good had prevailed; not even hemorrhoids had been able to stop the valiant knight from vanquishing the evil dragon.

 

ocean

parents

answer

elephant

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(That's one heroic knight! ;) )

 

 

The ocean rushed and ebbed at the edge of his consciousness. His mind was a question, and after a long time contemplating, as he lay half dead in the moonlight on that empty beach, an answer finally came. The answer seemed to be... his parents. "An elephant..." he thought, over and over. "I'm an elephant."

 

 

Hood

Rainbow

Sulphur

weltanschauung

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Little Hood boy ran down a side ally, dodging past all the guys with guns. "Can't catch me, sucka!" He ducked around hotdog stands, and jumped over skate boarding punks in an effort to not die. Then he tripped and fell down into a gutter. The stone under him crumbled, and gave way, and soon he was slipping and sliding down a muddy hole that seemed to be set straight on to hell. When he landed, the whole cavern smelled like sulfur, and light refracted off of strange crystals to shine rainbows on the stone.

 

"Weltanschauung!" something cried off in the darkness.

 

"'Scuse me?" Little Hood boy responded.

 

"Here's a polly lop, punk!" And then a lollypop hit Little Hood boy in the head. It was the same color as the rainbows on the walls.

 

"I got'cho lollypop now, sucka!" Then Little Hood boy fled from the cave, and went to eat the lollypop in solice.

 

New words:

boom-a-rang

lightning rod

sepulcher

rhino

Edited by srsizzy
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  • 1 month later...

It was a sad day when Robby the rhino, my favourite plush toy was sepulchred. He had lasted for almost a decade but when the boom-a-rang had hit him, it had easily ripped his fluffy head off of his torso. I had dug the hole myself, inside our garden, in shallow earth. His tiny plush hands were still gripping the lightning rod, with which we had defeated so many enemies in our imaginary adventures, when I pushed the last pile of dirt to cover him.

 

Next words:

 

hypothetical

ravage

subsurface

knight

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She might yet survive. With the right sort of smile, hope and sadness with just a touch of promise playing across the stage of fear that was the rest of her face, there was still a chance. The key to deflecting the terminal stroke lay in the hypothetical: what might come if she were allowed to show gratitude later? Hope and sadness would not likely find purchase on the ravaged subsurface of her opponent’s heart and turn knave to knight. But they fueled the promise, made real the offer of bargaining potential favors in the future for very real mercy in the now.

 

A lot of weight to place on one curve of the lips, but it was all she had left. Eyes locked to those of her would-be executioner, she was aware as his hand hovered over the button that controlled her fate, then away again. Finally, with a click, it was over.

 

“B-16,” he said. “I sank your battleship!”

 

 

 

Permafrost

Wimple

Agrarian

Shrike

Edited by Disco-neck Ted
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  • 8 months later...

"the Permafrost covered the fine town of Wimple where the Agrarian stew was born," Ryu read from a sheet of paper. "Thats all good and find but how does this help me find the Shrike???"

 

 

next four:

death

manuscript

necronomicon

nekonomicon

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oooo I see we have a HP Lovecraft fan, very nice! :D

 

After feeling farless than fulfilled upon reading through the nekonomicon, it was time to dive into the world of true nightmares. How this hellish

manuscript was found was anyone guess, but now it rested in the hands of young Gabriel and his friends. The Necronomicon creaked slowly open, its pages stiff with age and its ink fadded in time and so they began to read through the dark scriptures. Laughing and joking about the deities and creatures of the mythos afterwords, there was a knock on the bedroom door. The boys looked up, Gabriel stood and opened it only to look upon a tall Egypian man. He smirked to the boys who looked up to him with an unknown terror.

 

"W...who are you?"

There was a chuckle... and an answer

"The Crawling Chaos, you called?.."

 

The boys went pale, everything sunk into endless shadows...when it clearned only death was left.

 

 

:)

 

Next set of words.

 

Rainbow

Elephants

Tea

Goblins

Edited by Whisky in Babylon
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"Hey ! What are you doing here ?" Asked Bottox O'Callaghan, a Leprechaun, seeing something at the end of his personal rainbow.

 

Everyone know there's a pot of gold there... Even Goblins, like the one Bottox saw an instant ago, filling its rags with pure gold... But that wasn't for its good, since as a herd of Elephants headed toward it, and it was too busy to notice it !

 

Poor creature, it was completely crushed by the pachyderms.

The heartless green person rode his rainbow away after packing up his gold, since the place wasn't safe for it anymore, and warned some of his friends around a cup of tea that they might want to hide their treasures better for safety...

 

 

New words :

- Magic

- Raw

- Delete

- Fur

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The Dreamer breathed in raw magic, the crimson boiling in his eyes showing his distaste at the creatures cowering before him. Their form was made to inspire fear, but in him every detail heightened his sense of disgust at what the chimeiraes were doing - their dark, dirty fur, their bulbous eyes, the scales cowering their clawed hands.

 

"I could just erase ya, scum o' th' planes. Delete yer very existence so thorou'hly ye'd never 'ave been, anywhere, ever. Now desist an' vanish, before I vanish ya instead."

 

The misbegotten things ran, leaving behind only a racid smell and their whimpering victim.

 

 

***

 

Coruscating

Sublime

Anathema

Asymmetric

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Watching the sun rise slowly over the coruscating landscape, the Ranger noted a small asymmetric shape in the distance. As he began the morning lope towards the horizon, he could not help but to take heed of the warnings he'd received the day before. The badlands had proven, in the past, to be nearly anathema to most of his race, though most of the old world knew his kind to be hardiest of the old races.

As his legs began to loosen and his strides stretched and became more fluid, his mind continued to gnaw on the warnings given by the Elders of the last village. His knowledge of the terrain of this part of the world was so very nearly complete as to be thought the architect of his surroundings. But then, he also knew that most of the folk in this part of the world were so caught up in the sublime joys of their latest religion, they had begun to forget the old ways. He would have to start teaching them, once again taking on a new mantle of authority. But they must learn, they must remember....

 

 

Dogma

Calculating

Enthusiasm

Deference

Edited by GeldrinHor
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That calculating stare. Always that stare. She knew how to make my enthusiasm evaporate in a manner of seconds.

 

"Show me at least some deference," she had said.

 

"I'm tired of your dogma and your constant preachings. I'm not a kid anymore..." I had replied and slammed my door shut. I was going to regret that show of emotion later, but for now it was time to turn the music on. Loud. Very loud.

 

pocket

revolution

grill

horse

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Ryu reached into his pocket and pulled out yet another scrap of paper, "lets see this one is from the 'Antique Revolution' store......hmm I got a grill for twenty yen, a horse for fifteen yen, and a bottle of 1609 pearl Sake for nine billion?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! I’ve got to stop this kind of spending for food."

 

next words:

samurai

neko-girl

katana

Sake

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"I must not leave now" exclaimed Neko-girl, her long, dark hair cascading over her slender shoulders, "Kekami-sama would have hunters on my trail within an hour". The young woman, youngest child of the local Shogun, knew that her fathers' ire was really the least of her worries. Bowing her head, tightly wrapped in her ornamental robes, she walked back over to the tray to deliver Sake to her guests.

One simply had to look out the side window to see a great number of Samurai about the grounds. No, she would not be able to leave unseen easily.

As Akira stepped onto the grand porch, reaching forward to clutch the door edge, a katana flashed before his hand. Akira looked up into the deep, liquid, yet dead eyes of the largest of Kekami's guardians, Wotomi Hakira. Wotomi had been a guard of the household for nearly 25 years now, and his sword was well known as the sharpest on the entire northern end of the Island.

 

 

 

lambasted

archives

disuaded

faeryfolk

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"No, I just can't swipe anything more from the archives. The Librarian already has noticed that the scroll I took in November is missing. He lambasted me quite thoroughly for not keeping better track. And that was even though he didn't suspect me in the least. If he guesses I did it, I think he really might eat me alive."

 

"Ouch, then I'm glad you disuaded me from trying to get the scroll on the accords when I wanted it in December. Still, what else can we do? If we don't do something soon, there will be no more fairies anywhere. We just don't have much magic left because they've destroyed so much forest and field. The faeryfolk are on our way out. What will you do?

 

Lich

cubicle

smirk

brink

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Johnathan sat despondantly in his tiny little cubicle. Every day, all day, 24/7, round the clock...it was almost more than he could take. His boss, smirking at him over a stash of paper work that he thumped down on his desk...and it wasn't like he was making a fortune either!!

 

He sighed, flipping through a fiew pieces of paper. Here were the company's bills, insurance, and money accounting tabs. He supposed he could make a run for it and chuck them in the shredder, or maybe he could take a bright red marker and write "I QUIT!" on them in flamboyant letters. This job had really pushed him to the brink.

 

Oh well, what was he going to do about it? His little minimum wage, 10-hour job was what kept the rent payed and his cat fed. A slight sound at his door made him twitch. "Yes I'm working," he snapped irately. "Can't you see, the papers here, on my desk?"

 

A strange clicking noise, like popping bones made him turn, a sharp reprimand on his tongue. It fell from his mouth and slid to the floor, snuggling there like pudding. Before him, robed in dark, moth-eaten robes, its flesh rotting and grey, tiny strands of silvery hair floating from the bald scalp, stood a creature of the dead. It curled and uncurled its bony fingers, hence the popping sound. Large, empty eye-sockets surveyed him curiously, the mouth pulled into a perpetual wild grimace that revealed teeth through a hole in the cheek. In one of its hands was a long scythe. How typical.

 

Johnathan rubbed a hand along his face. "What is it, Halloween?" he muttered. "Nice costume kid, but I have work to do, so just get out and get some candy from the people down stairs."

 

The Lich moved forward, stepping into the cubicle and filling it from wall to wall with its abnormal height and bredth. Johnathan leapt to his feet, squished against his desk. "Come on! What's the idea, I said-"

 

And just like that Johnathan quit his minimum wage, 10-hour job that kept the rent payed and his cat fed. He left with a bang. They even put his name in the paper, right next to the missing people's chart and under the name of Mrs. Robinson, his landlady, who had just passed away.

 

-------------

 

Next words:

 

Dreamcatcher

Ninja

Poignant

Loofah

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Mists floated lazily through the graveyard like fish in a pond. The crow sat shabbily in the tree, trying desperately not to inhale the poignant smells from the not-so-fresh corpse beneath his perch, rudely taken from its rest by grave robbers. It wrinkled its nose as the chill breeze swept the odor towards its beak. With that single movement that no creature with a beak could manage, the "crow" melted and squashed itself, the image twisting unpleasantly until crouching in the tree was a something that was very non-crow.

 

Dressed in all black, from head to toe, was a man. The only skin on his body that showed was around his lavender eyes, which glowed like dual lamps through the drear darkness. The Ninja silenlty wished he had chosen somewhere more convenient to his olfactory system. Ah well...it was all in the business.

 

The clock in the village down the lane began to chime. He counted the beat slowly.

 

1......2......3......

 

The moon emerged hesitantly from behind the clouds, little by little. The graveyard was bathed in cold, silver light. Beneath him the ninja saw the slightly open casket, an arm hanging over the side.

 

4.......5.......6.....

 

Another breeze tore through him. The smell was unbearable. And in the moonlight, the Ninja could have sworn the hand twitched.

 

7.......8......9......10.....

 

His eyes missed nothing, so there was no doubt in the Ninja's mind that what he had seen had really happened. He sat still, watching for more movement.

 

11........12.......

 

The chiming stopped and with a crash the lid exploded from its hinges. The Ninja only managed to dodge the edge of the heavy wood projectile by swinging under his branch and landing behind the tree: dangerously close to said coffin.

 

The corpse within sat up slowly, turning its head at an equal rate in the cliche movement of death. With a gurgle of rage it stood and hopped out of bed, slapping at the Ninja.

 

The Ninja jumped away, pulling from its pocket a weapon that few had and even fewer took seriously. It looked like the offspring of a sea anenome and a small loofa, fitting in the palm of his hand neatly. Yet when he tossed it at the undead fiend, it expanded, wrapping its frilly tentacles around the decayed body. The zombie fell to the ground, struggling as a hideous sucking noise filled the air: the weapon was doing its job.

 

"S-state.....thy.....naaaame....." the creature managed to gurgle.

 

The Ninja walked closer, crouching down to lean over its head. "Normally I wouldn't," he said in a clear, melodic voice. "But since your essence is about to be dissolved anyway, why not? The name is Dreamcatcher." He squinted his eyes and the cloth across his mouth moved with his grin. "Sweet dreams!"

 

(sorry it was so long. I got carried away! :3)

 

Words:

 

Scintilating

Grin

Chaos

Eerie

Edited by Degorram
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The wicked grin that spilt his face made her cringe. She would have prefered buying from someone else, someone a bit less creepy, but this was the only dealer that her friend trusted. So she had made the sojourn, across town, to this eerie apartment building. He had met her in the musty hallway of the delapedated building, obviously expecting her arrival. The moment she saw him, she knew it was her friends "guy", the ratty navy jacket and hunched posture gave him away. "So...you have some FL?" she inquired, trying to keep the quivering out of her voice. He smiled and simply nodded. Reaching into his olive green trench coat, he pulled out a small black object. It's shape was reminiscent of small writing pad, sans metal spiral. He tossed it to her suddenly, causing her to barely catch it. The young girl bit her lower lip as she glanced at the shady dealer, then slid open the slim, black case. Inside were four shallow impressions. Within each was a dark red dermal pad. Four derms of Flog, her drug of choice. She slid the case closed and smiled nervously at the hunchbacked man before her. She grabbed a small roll of bills from her pocket. Thinking for a moment, she tossed it to the purveyor of illicite substances. She turned and walked out quickly, leaving the man with the evil smile to his money. She delicately pulled one of the derms out of it's den and slapped it on her right wrist. All chaos broke loose behind her eyes. White hot pain tore it's way through her nervous system. Sweet, scintillating pain. The girl staggered into a light pole as wave after wave of sensation washed over her. As with most things, everyone's experience was different. The way she described it was as if millions of fire ants were biting into her muscles. They bit, but did not tear, merely turning and twisting the flesh until it was raw. A familiar smile spread across her face as she collected herself and rode the pain all the way back home.

 

Ocean

Leftovers

Madness

Traitor

Edited by Nyarlathotep
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The seas were calm. Only the myriads of pieces of debris floating on the surface of the turquoise wate evidenced the massacre that had taken place but a few hours earlier. Soon the ocean would claim even those and then only in memory shall the thousands of brave sailors live on.

 

"What madness...what madness can push men to hate each other so?" The rhytmic intonations of the voice on the deck of the badly damaged, only remaining ship, the Buccaneer, left only silence in itws wake.

 

"Shut up Poet! I asked for a happy song, not some wailful lament to the dead!" The captain was clearly building himself up into one of his mighty rages. The leftovers in his plate trembled whenever his fist pounded against the table. Luckily, a voice intruded from the crow's nest before his rage could be unleashed.

 

"I see the traitor!"

 

Just above the horizon, the grey-ish blue sails of the Interceptor could be seen.

 

New words:

 

dog

rocket-propelled grenade

chocolate

ashtray

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As the ashes settled, there was only one brave soul left moving in the field. He stretched and got up looking for his friend. There was no one. It was a wasteland of machine guns and radioactive corpses, of rocket propelled grenades and men who will follow orders even when it means sure slaughter, of great foolish bravery. A witness to the worst that can happen when madmen declare war on each other.

 

These were not his thoughts though. He simply felt lost and alone and began to helplessly look about for somewhere to head, a goal. He shook the smelly soot off himself and cursed this ashtray of a battle field.

 

He dragged himself up and hurried off looking for others like him. Although he lived, he was the exception that proved the rule--proof that there are some conditions humans can not survive--that there are some wars to terrible to be repeated.

 

The dog trotted off to the woods to find his brothers.

 

 

terriyaki

hifalutin

manatee

deadline

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