Archive | January 18, 2016

Languary Day 13: Diminutives and Causatives, with Phlufeen

Some more Derivational Morphology for today!

causative & diminutive

Noun today is Fire, phan and verb is shout, teafa

Causative, -alt, talt-

to enfire, taltphana (because we’re verbing a noun it gets an -a at the end)

to make-shout, teafalta (and the A moves to the end here.)

And diminutive, which is an irregular affix in that it always goes at the end!!

-een, or if very small, eeneen

A starting fire, tiny fire, a spark, phaneen

Shouting just a little, or a cute shout, teafeena

Little Phluf the scholar, Phlufeen.

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Sting Marydel and the Cliffs of Anterior, Part 2

Part one:

“My test results.” Sting looked at the woman on the porch. The uniform was military, she was wearing at least two weapons, but he couldn’t see any insignia at all. “I know I kinda blew on the SATs, but I didn’t think I blew chunks. Ma’am.”

“You did better than you might think on the SATs, but we’re here about your PQR’s.”

“…the speed run? That wasn’t a test. That was just some online contest.” He looked at the shoulders of the soldiers with her. That was a very wide protected data cable running down their backs. If this was a hoax, it was the weirdest hoax ever.

“It was.” She nodded solemnly. “And you did quite well. In addition, you’ve scored quite well on several other assessments.”

She was standing out in the rain. Water was dripping down her face, plastering her short hair to her scalp, and she didn’t seem to mind at all. Sting looked back into the house – warm, dry, safe – and then back at them. “Uh. Do you have any ID? I mean, not to be rude, but…”

“Caution is acceptable.” She unfolded part of her belt to reveal a shield and photograph. NABU was written in big blue letters across the bottom of the photograph. She flipped it again to show a second ID reading ARMY. “We’re a secret branch of a secret organization within the US ARMY. We’ve been monitoring your progress for some time.” She had no expression at all.

“Me? What did I do?” Was she wired in? All her visible ports looked empty…

“You hit our radar when you joined the Boy Scouts.” Still no expression, not even a smirk.

“I was eight!

“Many people hit our radar. Very few of them last past their eighteenth birthday. You, Sterling Marydel, are one out of a thousand. And we need you to come with us.”

Sting slammed the door in her face and threw the deadbolt.

Part three:

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