Champ Match: 1. Nahlidge vs. 2. Atticus

[fastforwords]

MATCH ONE
CHAMP MATCH

Nahlidge vs. Atticus

Choose your Topic Here.
Read the Rules in the SS Office
(You MUST vote on Three Battles)

Check in By Friday.
Verses Due Friday.
Voting Ends Sunday Evening/Monday Morning.

[Nahlidge]

Word.

[Atti]

Laureate vs D.H. Brixton
Belligerant vs lw Truth lw
The Witness vs Evolve
Baron P. Mortuus vs Phrantik

[Nahlidge]

xCJ LvS Lisax :
Hey, is this Jon?

StOn3R Boi 81 :
Yea, who`s this?

xCJ LvS Lisax :
It`s Charles, from...nevermind, tellin` you is useless
You wouldn`t remember me anyhow. I`m not so skinny now
But besides that I`m doin` fine, I think I`d make Kenny proud

StOn3R Boi 81 :
You knew Kenny? Tall white kid with the curly hair?

xCJ LvS Lisax :
Yea, we were actually best friends in the early years.
Don`t let the screen name fool you. I used to be a cool dude.
Back in the day, when we thought ding dong ditch was fool proof.

StOn3R Boi 81 :
Lol, that`s cool. I met him in the 10th grade.
We used to party all the time. Him and his friend Dave.
You knew him too?

xCJ LvS Lisax :
Nah, don`t think so. I wasn`t really down with the "cool" club.
But we partied a few times, he might have introdcued us.
I was prolly too drunk to remember lol

StOn3R Boi 81 :
Yea...I know how that goes.
He`s not important anyway, that guy was an asshole.
Anyway, how do you know me?

xCJ LvS Lisax :
I met you a couple times. Well...when I was the old me.
Gettin` drunk every weekend, convincin` the girls to go streakin`.
High as fuck, late night skinny dippin` in the deep end.
Speakin`, of that. Remember when Kenny downed that bottle of Vodka alone?
We were all trashed, but I think you had to drive him home...

StOn3R Boi 81 :
Lol, yea... The Halloween party at Timmy`s house.
The same night I got stuck in the tub and Kenny had to lift me out.
Man was I drunk...

xCJ LvS Lisax :
Lol, I remember that too...
I was makin` out with a college chick right outside of the bathroom.
Hey, let me ask you. Was you at his birthday?
Or the party Timmy threw cuz the football team won first place?

StOn3R Boi 81 :
Yea... brb tho, gonna go smoke a cig

xCJ LvS Lisax :
k

StOn3R Boi 81 :
back

xCJ LvS Lisax :
Finally lol, remember when we all sardine packed in Kenny`s car.
Drunk as shit, ready to fight them kids at the mini mart?

StOn3R Boi 81 :
Oh yea, the ones in the red truck with the loud radio.
Threw a beer bottle at us cuz Kenny called his girl a crazy ho`.

xCJ LvS Lisax :
Lol, good times. What about the time Lisa threw up?

StOn3R Boi 81 :
Wasn`t that Home Coming? She`d just bought him those new chucks.

xCJ LvS Lisax :
Yeaaaa. He was so pissed. I`d never seen him act that mean.
Ignored her the rest of the night, made her drive home in the back seat.

StOn3R Boi 81 :
Lol...

xCJ LvS Lisax :
What about New Year`s...
He said he`s take shots from 6 `til the ball dropped

StOn3R Boi 81 :
Lol, yea we thought he was all talk

xCJ LvS Lisax :
He proved us wrong though, but in the end I think the liquor did him in.
Then we played beer pong, he was mad cuz he didn`t win.
After that we went up on the roof to watch the fire works.
It was sooo late. I didn`t care, I took the next night off work.
That`s when I met Dave, so yea, Kenny did introduce us.
I remember, he tried to get everybody to try his "new drug".
I was scared, but Kenny was so trashed he didn`t care.
I couldn`t watch, I just went back downstairs.
They laughed at me, but I just went and had a few beers.
And met my wife to be, she helped me bring in the New Year.
Remember? Everyone called me a bitch cuz I wouldn`t try?

StOn3R Boi 81 :
Yea... That was the same night Kenny tried to prove he could fly...

Up Up And Away...

[Atti]

"This is George."

This was George.

He set the coffee pot along the marble finished oven top;
Page 3 news and a plate of two hardly finished muffin tops.
Watches the steam pour out from under the bathroom door;
his wife lights the mood-
as a shower tune blasts through the floors:
Oh George! coooooome and get yoooooour..

He picks up his drink, takes a sip/sits up and smiles quick-
before he stands/dances to the sample clip with wild kicks;
Dueling giggles power through- he sneaks into the shower
room and the two playfully kiss as he stops hastily-
and quickly sits down next to the flowered broom

Chapter I: Mr. Feel Nothing

He bore the misery's sage of delineate days reborn;
more history in his three steps than in the age we wore.
Checkered pasts remain the lost way on feathered tracks
a train of thought forgot to check/mates entered last-
he paused at the fork in awe before he sat and ate.
Primal over civil- alittle wine and bind, put aside the middle;
spilling vinyl fetish against the silhouette of candle lit vigil.
Malice by definition; twisted instinct and high intellect-
by the time you regain your balance, he's underlining sex.
His bliss is absurd-
with perched lips and soggy phallic, he's earning stitches;
learning the art of heart while he sits there burning bridges.
He wore the thin light's lite reform like a mid wife-
within sight he swore to his life's resistance...
behind the fine eye and a midnight description:

Socially-synical sociopath-
masked in madlibs and lipstick,
mascara plastered on his right backhand
from the last one night stand.
Giggles in the open blisters
from rough innuendoes broken linger,
through the concuss lingerie
he saved in the middle of an open fist for
a sniff and quick quiver later in the day.

He falls and throws his breath below the end of this song-
with a cold sweat rolling down and his head in his palms.

He songed a name below the bondage banquets,
imprinted rope, and blades along the edge of plain wrists:
Beyond the broken sores, door alarms and tales of porn-
he whispered 'whooores,' the whimpered 'Geooooorge!.'

Covering his ears, he doesn't want to hear the mumbling
narratives spilling from the air! Tears start tumbling
down his pale canvas, the ceiling closes in; his air goes thin!
'SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!'
His startled wife jumps/rips the curtains right open,
slips- in a hurry to run to his comfort and the lights go dim.

Chapter II: Females for Sale!

The ominous slaughter- daughter forgot in his promise;
every word you wanted to hear and a tear of thick onyx.
He's watching- insecure girl and he's a word of comfort
in a winners world/Jaguar car while tossing shores of pearl.
Same stories in a different chapter of novels after-
his laughter is the ink as he winks a signature past her.

He rocks away, back and forth and forth toward disarray;
she's bleeding and he's hardly breathing any more this way!
His hands are shaking harder and harder
and his mouth is now dry- his eyes begin to water;
one hand on his wife's damp head, the other on the left
trying to toss a cotton ball...
to stop all the voices from talking in his head!

Another night settles to a new bar room chronicle:
glasses back as he finds a model master mold-
from the round bottom of the brown bottle barstool monocle.
His twisted grin curls around the girl as he sends a drink.
That's his in- kind gesture for little girl behind the texture.

Tonight is lady's night and he's feels all right-

Common talk tiptoes into throwing clothes off/on
the bed post she moans with one lip lost/gone-
swallowed with the pleasure, although his laughs gone;
the smile lines mangle and the angle make her head hurt.
She gashes her head more on the plastic head board;
starting to cry- his smile returns as her heart drops
''Please stop!'

He beats his own skull into a pulp fiction,
his diction is slurred and every word he utters is wrong-

'I didn't mean to! are you hot- alright are you alright!?'

His stair tapers- paces the tile lanes fighting a smile
that the narrator in his head said was growing greater.
His finger tips gel between his hair fibers as he screams!
Releases- and her head starts to twitch as she bleeds.

Chapter III: Oak Trees, Leaves, Dead Bodies.

George's eyes find the borderline of their form-
as he climax's she passes/gives a final scared squirm.
He pulls out and pulls out a last kiss for her glass lips;
inches over and holds her hand- taps her ass quick.
He sits there for an hour, starring as his workmanship-
she was his magnum opus coded in saran strips.
Gutted and savored as he licked all his fingers,
saying a prayer at the final tare of his falling razor.
'Hail Mary,
Full of Grace,
The Lord is with thee.
Blessed art

...thou among women,
and blessed is the fruit
of thy womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary,
Mother of God,
pray for us sinners now,
and at the hour of death. Amen.'

He prays and prays, she just keeps bleeding still-
screaming Jesus' name for forgiveness of the kill...
'Wait! No!' He didn't even kill her though!

Keeps singing back those hymns as he wraps his sin-
licks her clit one last time as her fair flower collapses.
The cadaver still fresh with red chest under the laughter,
covered with cellophane as the cello rains a lover's last word-
from the speaker box the 5th symphony eases off;
he pauses, and plays conductor before proceeding on.

Off between narration and sensation, he's lost-
he doesn't know which ideas he's thought.

After he finished spinning the cadaver's plastic morbid,
he searched his mind for a hiding place-
a place of bind and blackness, thatches and twine... that forrest!
He through the body on his back and laughed,
cackled with the crows that roamed the thatch.

'No!' he wont do it he proclaims with exclamation-
subconsciously teething at the thought of grave and decimation!
One hand clotting her lungs; the other on the door knob!

With giggling sadistics, he chose to dig the hole-
bare hands and sandy palms to compliment his poem.

'No No No!' the tears streamline his cheeks side-
near the blood spot that dropped from her seam line.

He dug until his arms hung in malice-
malice, the same that phased his tongue and spun his balance!
He digs! And he digs! And keeps singing the song,
the only song he remembers, so he tenors along!
'CCCCCCOME AND GET YOOOOOOOUR...!

He's keeps digging that hole next to the bench-
where he went to propose, because it's where they first met!

The smile fades from his jaded face of wild-
and it sinks in... he feels quenched;
sits down on the park bench and prays for a while.

His heart is full, just like the dirt

and he walks back those three miles, singing for her.

[Soule]

Nahlidge: You're structre was insane lol, the wording was great though. I liked where you were coming from but a little more description would help the peice alot more. The Creativty was very interesting, Imagenation was deffinently here. Flow was...alright. Overall keep it up man, could been better.

Atticus: Atticus, atticus and little atticus. Nice job man. The wording was great, I liekd the basic structre. I could see where you were coming from with this verse very easily. You're creativty was alright and flow was most deffinently there. I liked this peice alot. Keep writing son, you're a possible SS winner with verses like this.

Vote/ Atticus for a more imagenative and emotional verse.

[Atti]

Hopefully people realise that this piece is the sequal to the piece I wrote last week for SS that I link'ed in. Oh, and I forgot to say, my topic was: Simon Says.

[Soule]

I noticed.

[Engivale]

Okay, here goes...

Nahlidge, that was some bomb ass shit, the flow was just tight as all hell, the concept was so damned cool and a different tone of voice from you but with that same never-off-beat storytelling aura that just never gets lost in a clutter of wordiness or useless adjectives. Its a fine art to do it like that, I loved it start to finish and it never skipped a beat. An awesome way to tell that kind of story, instead of third person, using a conversation, and an online one at that, i thought it was tight.

Atty, yours was long like WOAH. Like, holy hell, You wrote like three pieces at once here, just went so on and on and freaking on, this was seriously more than 150 lines i stopped counting, that's my big point here. I think the limit for pieces at the beginning was 50, and people go over, but that was an intimidating post. I read the entire thing patiently, the flow was cool sometimes but awkward at others, the story got a little strange and some of the descriptions seemed forced and unneccessary. i.e.

Another night settles to a new bar room chronicle:
glasses back as he finds a model master mold-
from the round bottom of the brown bottle barstool monocle.

A monocle is that one-piece eyewear thing the peanut guy wears. So what the hell did that line mean? A barstool can't have a monocle, I don't think.

He bore the misery's sage of delineate days reborn;
more history in his three steps than in the age we wore.
Checkered pasts remain the lost way on feathered tracks
a train of thought forgot to check/mates entered last-
he paused at the fork in awe before he sat and ate.
Primal over civil- alittle wine and bind, put aside the middle;
spilling vinyl fetish against the silhouette of candle lit vigil.

Misery's sage? Which means? How can you bear "misery's sage?" And deleniate days reborn? Deleniate means, "To describe the form of; to sketch or design." Then, what does that line that says "Primal over civil- a little wine and bind, put aside the middle," mean, also? I understand the first part, but then what the hell is bind, and what is 'the middle' you're putting aside?

Then... how can you spill vinyl fetish? Even if there is a fetish for vinyl, i.e. a sex-act involving vinyl, an adhesive fabric, how do you spill it? I only do this to prove I really read the piece for you, I like your writing, but this one seemed a little left-field to me and never captivated.

v/ Nahlidge

[Laureate]

Nahlidge...Nice take on the topic and it was presented in a creative way, however it bugged me that the two people talking didn't seem to show any sadness that their mutual friend committed suicide, they went on talking about how they knew him and the times they had together, and then the death is presented nonchalantly, which might have been ok but it was obvious how it was going to turn out, imagery was ok because the party scenes were relateable, but I didn't get a snese of real emotion

Atticus....i liked the way you presented your story, you truly made the guy seem like a carzy psycho, my favorite line was

"from the speaker box the 5th symphony eases off;
he pauses, and plays conductor before proceeding on."

because of it's simple eerie feel, and plus it brough an immediate image of Anthony Hopkins in the Silence of the lambs when he's conducting the music after he kills the security guards....I'm not gonna lie, the length kind of turned me off, because I felt you could have done just as well if your verse was shorter, but it still didn't bore me

Vote-Atticus

[Witty]

Woah dope battle, you amazangly talented bitches
I'm just jealous

Nahlidge-Really nice and orginal dude, It was really creative, it did seem like a real conversation, although I agree with Laureate, they didn't really seem very sad that their friend was dead......but maybe it came across like they were remembering the good times of is life, which is cool, because being sad isn't the only way to grieve. ut yea, you had a dope story, and I was really feeling it...nice shit dude, props.

Atticus-god damn this was long, I was like wtf when I see nthe length of it. But then I sat down and read it, and it was definitely worth the read. This peice was beautifully abstract and creative, and you had great emotion, and a really nice story line with great metaphors....Great peice man, props to you.

vote-Atticus

Great battle guys.

[Atti]

The monocle line is describing seeing a girl from the bottom of his beer bottle- meaning it's tilting all the way up (he's getting drunk) and the bottle of the bottle would be resemblant of a monocle. It was very essential to the story, becaue if you followed the premise of the chapters, it was describing how he found the woman who was later burried in the park forrest/but in real life was his wife Diane. The spilling 'vinyl fetish' reffers a fetish in S&M of wearing constrictive vinyle clothing, and it's refferencing him thinking over womens deaths not in remorse, but just remembering his own erotic adventures with them. 'Wind and Bind' again, another refference to bondage/S&M. 'Misery's sage' and 'Delinate days' both reffer a moment of reminecense/remebering. Delinate, yes, to sketch or depict- photographic memories. Just to clarify those things for you Eng.

[Truth Iscariot]

Atticus you made the longest read ever lol but nice drop both of you

Nahlidge: This was the first thing i have ever had the privelige to read from you. The conversation in this was something i have never seen before and i liked it you came with a very good consistent flow it was really easy to read yours beacasue of it you told the story in this piece very mature, descriptive, and it was unique that you didn't use "and then he said" or the third person way of writnig instead you embodied both and did a great job of it.

Atticus: Your's was so long but the story it told was a stroke of brilliance you went very deep into explaining each part of this and that what makes this so special that you brung such emotion and creativity in telling this story, you also used a bunch of metaphors into this which was nice as well

Easliy the best battle i have ever read hard to decide this one but i am gonna go with atticus for a slighty better piece both were very much amazing displays of talent

[fastforwords]

up over closed.

[P. Mortuus]

Hmm a good battle....this is how i see it.

Nahlidge...a very very realistic conversation...even the fact it was rhyming never actually came in the way of the realism...i liked it. Plus the way they were reminicing was good to and overall, i didn't have any qualms with this piece as it had good flow though not the nbest example of imagery.

Atticus...a bit tooooo loong...nonetheless it was very god. When i was browsing the comments to get a feel of how it went down i at first was confused by Engivales statements however after your clarification i re-read your piece..and yes it was a long job lol...buti should say it was worth it for the sheer fact that tha abstract imagery was in play and really bought out an atmosphere were the reader is completely in the piece. Overall, a good piece.

\/ Atticus.