Understatement: The opposite of hyperbole, understatement (or litotes) refers to a figure of speech that says less than is intended.
Example: It would be an understatement for someone to say that Martyna was having trouble adjusting to life in RhyDin.
Martyna had practically become a recluse upon her arrival in RhyDin. If one of her family member wasn?t likely to be at that dirty Inn then she wasn?t likely to go. She hadn?t made any friends, hadn?t found any little spots she liked to visit for social reasons?to try and make friends at. She went to work at McLeod?s Tech Fix down near the Spaceport--a job she was qualified for after hours spent in her father?s lab?and then walked home, eyes lowered to the ground. Home was her sanctuary against the weirdness of the world she found herself in. All of Lemar?s hard work on cracking the shell that Marty so casually constructed around her had been undone.
?This isn?t even a home,? she muttered as she slammed the front door of the brownstone closed behind her. Her designer heels were kicked off, joining the growing pile by the front door; she?d have to clean that up with Elly soon. For now, sore feet stomped through the still unadorned hallways and stairs to her room. Fortunately, the house was large enough for her to even have her own room; she had Solange and her money to thank for that.
She shouldered her way into her bedroom much like she had into the house; art supplies and other odds-and-ends that she tended to collect were pushed aside by the door and into a bigger pile of disarray then before. She threw herself face first onto her bed, coach bag dropped somewhere on the floor. She listened to the quiet of the house; Basil was gone like usual and Elly was either out, sleeping, or working. She?d be in Marty?s room soon enough, bullying her twin to come out with her for the night?dinner bought by some man or other, drinks at a bar and then out to a club or five until dawn.
Maybe she would go with her sister. She could do her pink hair up in curls, put some makeup on that would bring out the brilliant blue of her eyes, and change into something sexy that would easily guarantee she would not be dancing alone. She could do all that but she probably wouldn?t. She didn?t want to be surrounded by people, not knowing who they were, what they were?elves, vampires, faeries, mages, magicians, wizards, elementals. RhyDin was full of them and she hated it. She hated being a mere human, powerless in comparison to those with supernatural skills. She had been helpless once before in her life?incapable of stopping the destruction of her country, her family, her love.
She needed to find the way, the skills, to defend herself against those with power in the mixed up world of RhyDin. Only then would she feel safe leaving the sanctuary of her not-home.
Example: It would be an understatement for someone to say that Martyna was having trouble adjusting to life in RhyDin.
Martyna had practically become a recluse upon her arrival in RhyDin. If one of her family member wasn?t likely to be at that dirty Inn then she wasn?t likely to go. She hadn?t made any friends, hadn?t found any little spots she liked to visit for social reasons?to try and make friends at. She went to work at McLeod?s Tech Fix down near the Spaceport--a job she was qualified for after hours spent in her father?s lab?and then walked home, eyes lowered to the ground. Home was her sanctuary against the weirdness of the world she found herself in. All of Lemar?s hard work on cracking the shell that Marty so casually constructed around her had been undone.
?This isn?t even a home,? she muttered as she slammed the front door of the brownstone closed behind her. Her designer heels were kicked off, joining the growing pile by the front door; she?d have to clean that up with Elly soon. For now, sore feet stomped through the still unadorned hallways and stairs to her room. Fortunately, the house was large enough for her to even have her own room; she had Solange and her money to thank for that.
She shouldered her way into her bedroom much like she had into the house; art supplies and other odds-and-ends that she tended to collect were pushed aside by the door and into a bigger pile of disarray then before. She threw herself face first onto her bed, coach bag dropped somewhere on the floor. She listened to the quiet of the house; Basil was gone like usual and Elly was either out, sleeping, or working. She?d be in Marty?s room soon enough, bullying her twin to come out with her for the night?dinner bought by some man or other, drinks at a bar and then out to a club or five until dawn.
Maybe she would go with her sister. She could do her pink hair up in curls, put some makeup on that would bring out the brilliant blue of her eyes, and change into something sexy that would easily guarantee she would not be dancing alone. She could do all that but she probably wouldn?t. She didn?t want to be surrounded by people, not knowing who they were, what they were?elves, vampires, faeries, mages, magicians, wizards, elementals. RhyDin was full of them and she hated it. She hated being a mere human, powerless in comparison to those with supernatural skills. She had been helpless once before in her life?incapable of stopping the destruction of her country, her family, her love.
She needed to find the way, the skills, to defend herself against those with power in the mixed up world of RhyDin. Only then would she feel safe leaving the sanctuary of her not-home.