Fusty

Even though the sun was shining on a bright summer day, the inside of Sheryl's apartment was near pitch black. Desperately in need of a modern update, this fusty place made her feel isolated.

Sciamachy

Smoke curled in the stagnant air. A huddled figure peered out from behind a curtain, pupils shutting. The darkness of the living room an artificial construct, he squinted at the light. Davis needed to keep an eye out. There were many enemies coming for him.

Sean John felt sorry for long time friend. He watched Davis slowly devolve into a state of paranoia. He thought he was engaging enemies, but his conflicts were truthfully sciamachy. He was his own worst enemy.

Malinger

Francis heard Mom coming up the stairwell. He hurried off his windowsill and threw down the ping pong paddle, scurrying back to bed and under the covers. He put on his best sick face. If he was going to malinger all day, he needed to convince Mom the most. If she found out, she would surely put him to work.

Columbine

They little girl is forever frozen in her moment of awe. One of the medieval artist's most halcyon paintings, her face hopeful and expectant, looking towards something off in the distance, the white glow of her body indicating her columbine purity. Doves in the sky.

Razz

The headline claimed of Sean John's impropriety. He tried to think of it as only a shallow razzing, but his publication told him it might really turn public tide against him.

Salchow

Marianne Syan glowed in a middle of the ice rink. Her spectacular grace gained momentum with each slice of the ice. Seeming to simplify float off the surface, she climbed into the air and landed the double salchow.
Sean John watched the performance on his tiny satellite television from the deck of his boat in the Pacific, and prayed. If Marianne didn't get at least a 9, the Russian skating team would score lower than Hawaii, and Dr. Pantigal's plan would be set into motion.

Bestiary

Even though he wasn't a native to the island, Sean John was seen by many natives to be a definite link in their culture's stories. In their own traditional Bestiary there are tales of a man who comes from far away who uses his purity to control the animals. Sean John is seen to be this mythical man.

Ailurophilia

It was like the outline of of every piece of a jigsaw puzzle was drawn for him. He could always see the patterns, knew what was coming. This culture, this society, had a deep change coming up. The ailurophilia of the people was just an indicator of distraction, of need to shove our focus onto something else, in this case cute innocent feline creatures.

Pluvial

There's nothing quiet like a good swim in the ocean on a pluvial day. After you thrust down as far as you can, exploring just the shallow waters beneath the surface, you emerge into daylight with welcoming raindrops splashing on your skin. It just seems like nature's way of saying this is supposed to be a swimming day.

Sooth

In all my years as a bartender, I never met anyone coming through the bar quite like Jeremy Wilkins. Boy, could that man talk. He wasn't just a aimless bombast, his words would really catch you and make you wanna pay attention to what he's saying, even if you had to pay attention to 10 other people at the same time to get a good tip. I never could figure out if most of what he said was pure sooth, or if it was chiefly a string of yarns his brilliant mind was generating.

Blatherskite

Sean John had been at the airport bar for over an hour. Just your standard collection of selfish travelers on their way to somewhere else they're meant to be. The bartender relaxed against a stool, prepping glasses for the upcoming lunch rush. Some blatherskite sat a few chairs down and wouldn't quit running at his mouth to no-one in particular.

Dulcify

Too late, Sean John received the warning. The water was thick with the mind-altering aggressive hormones. Now, frantic sharks marauded haphazardly just under the surface, snapping at each other. If Sean John didn't figure out a way to dulcify these amped up creatures, he would have a big bloody mess on his hands.

Schuss

Sean John should have known his enemies would take advantage of him in this foreign environment on the ski slopes. Now they were just behind him, and he was all alone. Time to schuss down the hill. He set his skis straight, leaned forward, and let gravity guide him.

Neologize

The performer had them captivated. Pacing around the ring of audience out here in the village square, he spun his story to a rhythm. He recalled a tale old and new at the same time, based on a traditional village fable with spontaneous twists and turns. We heard him use archaic words we all recognized. We heard him neologize and make words we never heard before but all understood.

Farceur

He's life life of the party, this clever, witty man of 5 feet and only a few inches. Offer him a topic and those professional farceur will turn it upside down and have you laughing so hard you have to put your cocktail down.