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#2 07-08-2014, 02:30 AM

Week 1

Writer 10 (ViTRiOL)

1. 13th November 1940, Trondheim, Norway

We are frost-stricken, stranded betwixt the beams cold & godless and scavenging for scraps is our only option,
While we silently shiver in the bitter blackness, this dusky, hollow cellar our only solace
From the impending doom that roams our province in toneless columns, the German troops that search for loot
And lives to rend for life itself wisps like smoke in the hardened hands of these fervid brutes.
I am a poor farmer who had once made a pittance from the earthly fruits,
Now a family whose dismal fates once laid on the brittle state of turnip shoots
2. Face this bleak demise with leaky eyes in the broken rays of a perfect moon.
On a floor ridden with unswept soot, my cherished love gruesomely joined with torment bears the fruit of my loins,
Muffling her cries is my son, weak-limbed, crucially poised with a cloth-in-hand for muting the noise,
But on hard ground we wait, shaken by war and ebbed by hunger in the luminous void.

My dear son Eirik is worn, a lethargic nimbus encases a set of bones that quiver in the tenebrous dust,
There’s a yellowish crust set on the swollen mounds of each and every pestilent cut,
I pray for him, indeed I pray for us, with one hand upon my wife’s hand,
And the other with a passionate grip keeps the Book of Genesis clutched.
With the same grip, she pulls tight as her genitals gush, the resonance of her screams make the cellar erupt
As she braves a perilous plunge, pushing life into a sparsely moonlit world, shadowbound and grim,
She screams, howls until the loudness brims filling the gloom with exerted motions as it stirs commotion,
But I am stunned, as I pull from her some creature and then I am shocked by absurd emotions.
For a moment frozen in time, there is no fear, no alarm or distress and no words are spoken,
As I feel the wet skin against my arms and the eyes of this wondrous girl I’m holding.

Deep blue of azure skylines, lighting up the saddened night-time,
In the face of beauty I weep, how she has been born alongside such tragic lifetimes.
“Cecilie, my darling,” I sob aloud, as I get on my knees and kneel to hush,
But time is lost, from the ordeal she trumped, my cherished love falls ill and slumps.
My spine then aches with fear as I hear a storm of soldiers from above,
No time to cry, to fall, but I can barely breathe with these soulless lungs,
I grip her tight to my chest, thoughts plague me as cold terror overcomes
What would they do to us? To now my only love? The boots overhead, they slowly thump
I place my hands to her throat, what life could she have? With all the warmth and the all the laughter,
But either way, I know: Unwittingly, she awaits the arms of Death and the jaws of darkness…

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

Week 2

Writer 13

"No matter if you're at the track for fun, or wind up with a tragic run, the 87th annual Racing of the Beasts has begun!"

That's what the announcer bellowed out, it always left the runners jilted,
but with this circuit track? I'm fairly certain that there's something different.
An older man had cranked his engine with his tires up and lifted
Next to him? A lady's camel that's been flapping gums and spitting.

But most amazing? From a greater distance, close to a yacht,
Was an ancient fisherman, who stays alone at the docks
Examining every single wave and the floating of rocks.
He'd hopefully thought the wind would blow and go with the plot
So he won't have to return to work and he'd go home from his job...
And this, THIS was the only hope that'd he'd got.
He'd sit religiously, fidgeting at what he's shown in his knots.
Muttering "If I win this race, I'll be a biblical man!"
He said this knowing in his mind that he's not given a chance
But he'll do anything to defy the cynical chants from the millions of fans.

There were also planes and a 'copter, the competition was fierce
All those around were surprised, he wasn't sitting in fear!
He stood up with massive pride, he knew he was fit for this tier
Stone faced, while the wind's whistle whips at his ears.

Introductions take place, he bends, taking his bow.
The race is soon to begin, he paces straight to the bow.
The gates are made, and he makes a final wave to the crowd
he'll be in their greatest graces once he's famous and proud
and first place and profound to all the faces in town.

3... 2... 1... *BOOM*!!! All the racers started tearing off
soon to figure out who will be victor in this marathon.
At first we saw the boat for just a moment, blink, and there, it's gone
so hopefully he won't be fine and dandy with a share of bronze.

*Hours Later*
In an astounding turn of events, the flying pilots had sunk!
The camel's writhing it's lungs, the car? Driven right to a stump!
The ancient man did it! He gets to spend his time in the sun!
It took him 87 years... He had finally won!

"Theory Of Elevation"

((Ground Floor – The Beginning))
Was it love at the time, or a moment of passion? It was all “Pep See” My mental clarity was opaque with soda’s refraction. Us kids jumping on a bed, Our “Soles on a Mattress” Speechless intimacy, the hold-n-collapse had stolen my captions. My soul was on fire, she was holdin the matches. (Something’s not right) I went from confident, swollen amassed stiff; to frozen and gaspin. holdin a half-ripped Trojan in total synapses. A broken–filactic!? Trepidations in moment of panic!! In my mind thoughts rolled in a gambit. This might slow up my chances, goals and advancement.

((1st Floor – What the Hell?))
~
My Earth. Moon, and Stars, and Sky intertwined and distorted. Do we try in accordance with life or try the abortion? I realized from the morbid slides in my cortex that life is important. If I love myself then I will adore him!! I decided to forfeit and forward provide the resources. I “sucked at life, but somehow siphoned some morals!!” Steadily stipend for cash, but fightin for “more sense!!” My strife was a core sense, but sent heightened endorphins to 'Peer Amid' the Sands of time for the paper I'm telling you the 'Grind was Enormous'

(( 2nd Floor -Growing Pains))
~
Living in a little apartment; rips in my garments. A torn newspaper shy of being surrounded by illiterate garbage. I’m sick and I’m starving. Saved by the love in the crop! I suddenly stop to listen in awe when I hear her singing a song…to my unborn son. Man, my “pick” and my harvest!! No longer her Gentleman Caller; Gotta get that money right. I’m spinnin a job riddled with slobs; I focused on my work, finish it off, at the end of the day I’d relinquish it all. In hopes to one day frickin resolve it and be rid of it all quick. Walking through the sands of time, Iraqi style hoping to "land a mine" someday Feeling dead-alive, decayed cause this work is a cattle drive. It's lame, when's it my turn to "Crack a wild Cat-O-Nine?" Damnit my...(I needa chill it, I have a child...Nevermind)

((3rd Floor – Grinding Halt))
~
Little man sleeps through the night! Stars glisten on his skin like sequins in flight. Cover his feet (Ok.) He’s alright; worth being a couple minutes late to flee for a flight. I got the promotion I needed, 50% travel so I yearn to be closed to sweetness and holdin my seed just one more proposal then I’m home for the weekend. I get to my destination, do my thing, and leave to ovations. Another victory then (then a ringtone symphony) The message that was sent to me: “Get home quick, we should talk, catch the plane that’s quickest please!!” I “jet back to the crib” to see wifey’s holdin my kid. I console her and sit then tears start flowing and shit. What would roll from her lips put loll to stomach, intense!…Straight the pits. “See, there was a lightning storm the night before. Christ assured…there wasn’t a flinch or wince; Damnit! You think it shoulda hyped him more!?” I tried some more…Clapped, moved and he laughed, loomed facing away. I was frantic, true. Hadda to face it today. Our son might be deaf, whatever is next might “be for more or for less...”

((4th Floor – Understanding))
~
Doctors and tests, prodding the flesh. Audiologists make promises “Yes” but from Commodus’s breast. Audio Visual, cranium copied, its critical: 3 brain surgeries, 30 consultations, blessed w/no complications. Sloppy inpatient procedures to quick outpatient “Knock Em And Wait” bits. No common prevail, we honestly thought we had failed. (Shit.) The surgeries wouldn't work. His auditory nerves were too small, the procedures could have been prevented had we known all along. (The fuck!?) In my head I killed all involved. I put my shoe through the stall...in the bathroom. (What’d you do?) We stayed burning away at a “Wax Situation” to light his future. “Your son can sign to you sir (lol) so try to view words with eyes so lucid, yup, one day your son could be inclined as you sir” they told me...

((5th Floor - Elevation))
~
We bought sign language books, learned from tutors. He was always learning new words, new language means new courage. He incurred his mother’s will power and my intellect. We couldn’t wait to see what project he'd finish next...(Stop, Flash Forward) I reflect on the trials and tribulations. Miles of simulations; All the while the situations were wild…we truly faced them. (To myself) “ It's been a while since you've correlated the past w/ present. Remember that initial "Damnit" after conception? Well, damnit it measures as spec on the timeline, paling the most drastic of measures. Stand and just treasure your clan in a “reverence unheard” because this might have all along the planning from heaven” (My boys playin, carefree) I saw deaf child’s silent grace in a dark time and place, Light a shade to overturn a ‘negative’ with a sense of whiter space. A Panoramic wider take on my tunnel vision, and a smiling face to match the suns emissions…Wow, that was my “Mistake!?” I pray every night for God to double his dreams...Just to list of a couple of things. In my world "Elevation" is attained when God pulls a couple of strings...

...true story

By RhetoriK

A bunch of chumps who suck too much to win....

Here are the names that were defeated in Round 1 & Round 2 of the 2014 Anonymous Topical Tournament.

Round 1

Writer 1 = DJ Denton
(Lost to Writer 32 by No Show)
New Record – 2-2 (2 N/S)

Writer 3 – OddGod
(Lost to NoLuck by No Show)
New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 4 = Nerrson-
(Lost to IAmFlow by No Show)
New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 5 = EdPoe
(Lost to Barfight by No Show)
New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 7 = Rohan
(Double No Show with GrizzEAT)
New Record – 1-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 8 = Erupt
(Lost to HeliO by No Show)
New Record – 0-3 (3 N/S)

Writer 9 = Obey
(Lost to Writer 24 3-0)
New Record – 0-2

Writer 13 = Nyarlathotep
(Lost to Writer 20 3-0)
New Record – 0-1

Writer 14 = Row
(Lost to Dysfunctional by No Show)
New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 16 = Manhattan
(Double No Show with Subreal)
New Record – 0-2 (2 N/S)

Writer 17 = Subreal
(Double No Show with Manhattan)
New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 18 = TerraByte
(Lost to Writer 15 3-0)
New Record – 0-1

Writer 21 = Crysis
(Lost to SuperGuy by No Show)
New Record – 0-3 (2 N/S)

Writer 22 = Lizman
(Lost to Wizdumb by No Show)
New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 23 = Rican
(Lost to ViTRiOL by No Show)
New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 26 = GrizzEAT
(Double No Show with Rohan)
New Record – 1-2 (2 N/S)

Writer 27 = TAKTIK909
(Lost to Writer 6 3-0)
New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 29 = TheDarkness
(Lost to IAmFlow by No Show)
New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 31 = TheDopeMan
(Lost to Writer 2 by No Show)
New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S)

Round 2

Writer 12 (Round 1) / Writer 14 (Round 2) = Super Guy
(Beat Crysis by No Show)
(Lost to Writer 6 3-0)
New Record - 1-1

Writer 20 (Round 1) / Writer 10 (Round 2) = Dean
(Beat Nyarlathotep 3-0)
(Lost to Writer 3 3-0)
New Record - 1-1

Writer 25 (Round 1) / Writer 4 (Round 2) = HeliO
(Beat Erupt by No Show)
(Lost to Writer 11 3-0)
New Record - 1-1

Writer 10 (Round 1) / Writer 9 (Round 2) = ViTRiOL
(Beat Rican by No Show)
(Double No Show with Barfight)
New Record - 1-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 28 (Round 1) / Writer 12 (Round 2) = Barfight
(Beat EdPoe by No Show)
(Double No Show with ViTRiOL)
New Record - 3-3 (2 N/S)

Writer 30 (Round 1) / Writer 7 (Round 2) = NoLuck
(Beat OddGod by No Show)
(Double No Show with IAmFlow)
New Record - 1-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 33 (Round 1) / Writer 8 (Round 2) = IAmFlow
(Beat Nerrison & TheDarkness by No Show)
(Double No Show with NoLuck)
New Record - 4-5 (4 N/S)

Writer 19 (Round 1) / Writer 5 (Round 2) = Dysfunctional
(Beat Row by No Show)
(Lost to Writer 13 3-0)
New Record - 3-5 (1 N/S)

Writer 11 (Round 1) / Writer 1 (Round 2) = Wizdumb
(Beat Lizman by No Show)
(Lost to Writer 2 3-0)
New Record - 1-1

07-08-2014, 02:30 AM

Week 1

Writer 10 (ViTRiOL)

1. 13th November 1940, Trondheim, Norway

We are frost-stricken, stranded betwixt the beams cold & godless and scavenging for scraps is our only option,
While we silently shiver in the bitter blackness, this dusky, hollow cellar our only solace
From the impending doom that roams our province in toneless columns, the German troops that search for loot
And lives to rend for life itself wisps like smoke in the hardened hands of these fervid brutes.
I am a poor farmer who had once made a pittance from the earthly fruits,
Now a family whose dismal fates once laid on the brittle state of turnip shoots
2. Face this bleak demise with leaky eyes in the broken rays of a perfect moon.
On a floor ridden with unswept soot, my cherished love gruesomely joined with torment bears the fruit of my loins,
Muffling her cries is my son, weak-limbed, crucially poised with a cloth-in-hand for muting the noise,
But on hard ground we wait, shaken by war and ebbed by hunger in the luminous void.

My dear son Eirik is worn, a lethargic nimbus encases a set of bones that quiver in the tenebrous dust,
There’s a yellowish crust set on the swollen mounds of each and every pestilent cut,
I pray for him, indeed I pray for us, with one hand upon my wife’s hand,
And the other with a passionate grip keeps the Book of Genesis clutched.
With the same grip, she pulls tight as her genitals gush, the resonance of her screams make the cellar erupt
As she braves a perilous plunge, pushing life into a sparsely moonlit world, shadowbound and grim,
She screams, howls until the loudness brims filling the gloom with exerted motions as it stirs commotion,
But I am stunned, as I pull from her some creature and then I am shocked by absurd emotions.
For a moment frozen in time, there is no fear, no alarm or distress and no words are spoken,
As I feel the wet skin against my arms and the eyes of this wondrous girl I’m holding.

Deep blue of azure skylines, lighting up the saddened night-time,
In the face of beauty I weep, how she has been born alongside such tragic lifetimes.
“Cecilie, my darling,” I sob aloud, as I get on my knees and kneel to hush,
But time is lost, from the ordeal she trumped, my cherished love falls ill and slumps.
My spine then aches with fear as I hear a storm of soldiers from above,
No time to cry, to fall, but I can barely breathe with these soulless lungs,
I grip her tight to my chest, thoughts plague me as cold terror overcomes
What would they do to us? To now my only love? The boots overhead, they slowly thump
I place my hands to her throat, what life could she have? With all the warmth and the all the laughter,
But either way, I know: Unwittingly, she awaits the arms of Death and the jaws of darkness…

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

Week 2

Writer 13

"No matter if you're at the track for fun, or wind up with a tragic run, the 87th annual Racing of the Beasts has begun!"

That's what the announcer bellowed out, it always left the runners jilted,
but with this circuit track? I'm fairly certain that there's something different.
An older man had cranked his engine with his tires up and lifted
Next to him? A lady's camel that's been flapping gums and spitting.

But most amazing? From a greater distance, close to a yacht,
Was an ancient fisherman, who stays alone at the docks
Examining every single wave and the floating of rocks.
He'd hopefully thought the wind would blow and go with the plot
So he won't have to return to work and he'd go home from his job...
And this, THIS was the only hope that'd he'd got.
He'd sit religiously, fidgeting at what he's shown in his knots.
Muttering "If I win this race, I'll be a biblical man!"
He said this knowing in his mind that he's not given a chance
But he'll do anything to defy the cynical chants from the millions of fans.

There were also planes and a 'copter, the competition was fierce
All those around were surprised, he wasn't sitting in fear!
He stood up with massive pride, he knew he was fit for this tier
Stone faced, while the wind's whistle whips at his ears.

Introductions take place, he bends, taking his bow.
The race is soon to begin, he paces straight to the bow.
The gates are made, and he makes a final wave to the crowd
he'll be in their greatest graces once he's famous and proud
and first place and profound to all the faces in town.

3... 2... 1... *BOOM*!!! All the racers started tearing off
soon to figure out who will be victor in this marathon.
At first we saw the boat for just a moment, blink, and there, it's gone
so hopefully he won't be fine and dandy with a share of bronze.

*Hours Later*
In an astounding turn of events, the flying pilots had sunk!
The camel's writhing it's lungs, the car? Driven right to a stump!
The ancient man did it! He gets to spend his time in the sun!
It took him 87 years... He had finally won!

"Theory Of Elevation"

((Ground Floor – The Beginning))
Was it love at the time, or a moment of passion? It was all “Pep See” My mental clarity was opaque with soda’s refraction. Us kids jumping on a bed, Our “Soles on a Mattress” Speechless intimacy, the hold-n-collapse had stolen my captions. My soul was on fire, she was holdin the matches. (Something’s not right) I went from confident, swollen amassed stiff; to frozen and gaspin. holdin a half-ripped Trojan in total synapses. A broken–filactic!? Trepidations in moment of panic!! In my mind thoughts rolled in a gambit. This might slow up my chances, goals and advancement.

((1st Floor – What the Hell?))
~
My Earth. Moon, and Stars, and Sky intertwined and distorted. Do we try in accordance with life or try the abortion? I realized from the morbid slides in my cortex that life is important. If I love myself then I will adore him!! I decided to forfeit and forward provide the resources. I “sucked at life, but somehow siphoned some morals!!” Steadily stipend for cash, but fightin for “more sense!!” My strife was a core sense, but sent heightened endorphins to 'Peer Amid' the Sands of time for the paper I'm telling you the 'Grind was Enormous'

(( 2nd Floor -Growing Pains))
~
Living in a little apartment; rips in my garments. A torn newspaper shy of being surrounded by illiterate garbage. I’m sick and I’m starving. Saved by the love in the crop! I suddenly stop to listen in awe when I hear her singing a song…to my unborn son. Man, my “pick” and my harvest!! No longer her Gentleman Caller; Gotta get that money right. I’m spinnin a job riddled with slobs; I focused on my work, finish it off, at the end of the day I’d relinquish it all. In hopes to one day frickin resolve it and be rid of it all quick. Walking through the sands of time, Iraqi style hoping to "land a mine" someday Feeling dead-alive, decayed cause this work is a cattle drive. It's lame, when's it my turn to "Crack a wild Cat-O-Nine?" Damnit my...(I needa chill it, I have a child...Nevermind)

((3rd Floor – Grinding Halt))
~
Little man sleeps through the night! Stars glisten on his skin like sequins in flight. Cover his feet (Ok.) He’s alright; worth being a couple minutes late to flee for a flight. I got the promotion I needed, 50% travel so I yearn to be closed to sweetness and holdin my seed just one more proposal then I’m home for the weekend. I get to my destination, do my thing, and leave to ovations. Another victory then (then a ringtone symphony) The message that was sent to me: “Get home quick, we should talk, catch the plane that’s quickest please!!” I “jet back to the crib” to see wifey’s holdin my kid. I console her and sit then tears start flowing and shit. What would roll from her lips put loll to stomach, intense!…Straight the pits. “See, there was a lightning storm the night before. Christ assured…there wasn’t a flinch or wince; Damnit! You think it shoulda hyped him more!?” I tried some more…Clapped, moved and he laughed, loomed facing away. I was frantic, true. Hadda to face it today. Our son might be deaf, whatever is next might “be for more or for less...”

((4th Floor – Understanding))
~
Doctors and tests, prodding the flesh. Audiologists make promises “Yes” but from Commodus’s breast. Audio Visual, cranium copied, its critical: 3 brain surgeries, 30 consultations, blessed w/no complications. Sloppy inpatient procedures to quick outpatient “Knock Em And Wait” bits. No common prevail, we honestly thought we had failed. (Shit.) The surgeries wouldn't work. His auditory nerves were too small, the procedures could have been prevented had we known all along. (The fuck!?) In my head I killed all involved. I put my shoe through the stall...in the bathroom. (What’d you do?) We stayed burning away at a “Wax Situation” to light his future. “Your son can sign to you sir (lol) so try to view words with eyes so lucid, yup, one day your son could be inclined as you sir” they told me...

((5th Floor - Elevation))
~
We bought sign language books, learned from tutors. He was always learning new words, new language means new courage. He incurred his mother’s will power and my intellect. We couldn’t wait to see what project he'd finish next...(Stop, Flash Forward) I reflect on the trials and tribulations. Miles of simulations; All the while the situations were wild…we truly faced them. (To myself) “ It's been a while since you've correlated the past w/ present. Remember that initial "Damnit" after conception? Well, damnit it measures as spec on the timeline, paling the most drastic of measures. Stand and just treasure your clan in a “reverence unheard” because this might have all along the planning from heaven” (My boys playin, carefree) I saw deaf child’s silent grace in a dark time and place, Light a shade to overturn a ‘negative’ with a sense of whiter space. A Panoramic wider take on my tunnel vision, and a smiling face to match the suns emissions…Wow, that was my “Mistake!?” I pray every night for God to double his dreams...Just to list of a couple of things. In my world "Elevation" is attained when God pulls a couple of strings...

...true story

By RhetoriK

A bunch of chumps who suck too much to win....

Here are the names that were defeated in Round 1 & Round 2 of the 2014 Anonymous Topical Tournament.

Round 1

Writer 1 = DJ Denton
(Lost to Writer 32 by No Show)
New Record – 2-2 (2 N/S)

Writer 3 – OddGod
(Lost to NoLuck by No Show)
New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 4 = Nerrson-
(Lost to IAmFlow by No Show)
New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 5 = EdPoe
(Lost to Barfight by No Show)
New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 7 = Rohan
(Double No Show with GrizzEAT)
New Record – 1-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 8 = Erupt
(Lost to HeliO by No Show)
New Record – 0-3 (3 N/S)

Writer 9 = Obey
(Lost to Writer 24 3-0)
New Record – 0-2

Writer 13 = Nyarlathotep
(Lost to Writer 20 3-0)
New Record – 0-1

Writer 14 = Row
(Lost to Dysfunctional by No Show)
New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 16 = Manhattan
(Double No Show with Subreal)
New Record – 0-2 (2 N/S)

Writer 17 = Subreal
(Double No Show with Manhattan)
New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 18 = TerraByte
(Lost to Writer 15 3-0)
New Record – 0-1

Writer 21 = Crysis
(Lost to SuperGuy by No Show)
New Record – 0-3 (2 N/S)

Writer 22 = Lizman
(Lost to Wizdumb by No Show)
New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 23 = Rican
(Lost to ViTRiOL by No Show)
New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 26 = GrizzEAT
(Double No Show with Rohan)
New Record – 1-2 (2 N/S)

Writer 27 = TAKTIK909
(Lost to Writer 6 3-0)
New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 29 = TheDarkness
(Lost to IAmFlow by No Show)
New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 31 = TheDopeMan
(Lost to Writer 2 by No Show)
New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S)

Round 2

Writer 12 (Round 1) / Writer 14 (Round 2) = Super Guy
(Beat Crysis by No Show)
(Lost to Writer 6 3-0)
New Record - 1-1

Writer 20 (Round 1) / Writer 10 (Round 2) = Dean
(Beat Nyarlathotep 3-0)
(Lost to Writer 3 3-0)
New Record - 1-1

Writer 25 (Round 1) / Writer 4 (Round 2) = HeliO
(Beat Erupt by No Show)
(Lost to Writer 11 3-0)
New Record - 1-1

Writer 10 (Round 1) / Writer 9 (Round 2) = ViTRiOL
(Beat Rican by No Show)
(Double No Show with Barfight)
New Record - 1-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 28 (Round 1) / Writer 12 (Round 2) = Barfight
(Beat EdPoe by No Show)
(Double No Show with ViTRiOL)
New Record - 3-3 (2 N/S)

Writer 30 (Round 1) / Writer 7 (Round 2) = NoLuck
(Beat OddGod by No Show)
(Double No Show with IAmFlow)
New Record - 1-1 (1 N/S)

Writer 33 (Round 1) / Writer 8 (Round 2) = IAmFlow
(Beat Nerrison & TheDarkness by No Show)
(Double No Show with NoLuck)
New Record - 4-5 (4 N/S)

Writer 19 (Round 1) / Writer 5 (Round 2) = Dysfunctional
(Beat Row by No Show)
(Lost to Writer 13 3-0)
New Record - 3-5 (1 N/S)

Writer 11 (Round 1) / Writer 1 (Round 2) = Wizdumb
(Beat Lizman by No Show)
(Lost to Writer 2 3-0)
New Record - 1-1

07-08-2014, 02:30 AM	#2
Hubert Cumberdale Guest Voted: 0 audio / 0 text Posts: n/a Mentioned: Post(s) Tagged: Thread(s)	Week 1 Writer 10 (ViTRiOL) 1. 13th November 1940, Trondheim, Norway We are frost-stricken, stranded betwixt the beams cold & godless and scavenging for scraps is our only option, While we silently shiver in the bitter blackness, this dusky, hollow cellar our only solace From the impending doom that roams our province in toneless columns, the German troops that search for loot And lives to rend for life itself wisps like smoke in the hardened hands of these fervid brutes. I am a poor farmer who had once made a pittance from the earthly fruits, Now a family whose dismal fates once laid on the brittle state of turnip shoots 2. Face this bleak demise with leaky eyes in the broken rays of a perfect moon. On a floor ridden with unswept soot, my cherished love gruesomely joined with torment bears the fruit of my loins, Muffling her cries is my son, weak-limbed, crucially poised with a cloth-in-hand for muting the noise, But on hard ground we wait, shaken by war and ebbed by hunger in the luminous void. My dear son Eirik is worn, a lethargic nimbus encases a set of bones that quiver in the tenebrous dust, There’s a yellowish crust set on the swollen mounds of each and every pestilent cut, I pray for him, indeed I pray for us, with one hand upon my wife’s hand, And the other with a passionate grip keeps the Book of Genesis clutched. With the same grip, she pulls tight as her genitals gush, the resonance of her screams make the cellar erupt As she braves a perilous plunge, pushing life into a sparsely moonlit world, shadowbound and grim, She screams, howls until the loudness brims filling the gloom with exerted motions as it stirs commotion, But I am stunned, as I pull from her some creature and then I am shocked by absurd emotions. For a moment frozen in time, there is no fear, no alarm or distress and no words are spoken, As I feel the wet skin against my arms and the eyes of this wondrous girl I’m holding. Deep blue of azure skylines, lighting up the saddened night-time, In the face of beauty I weep, how she has been born alongside such tragic lifetimes. “Cecilie, my darling,” I sob aloud, as I get on my knees and kneel to hush, But time is lost, from the ordeal she trumped, my cherished love falls ill and slumps. My spine then aches with fear as I hear a storm of soldiers from above, No time to cry, to fall, but I can barely breathe with these soulless lungs, I grip her tight to my chest, thoughts plague me as cold terror overcomes What would they do to us? To now my only love? The boots overhead, they slowly thump I place my hands to her throat, what life could she have? With all the warmth and the all the laughter, But either way, I know: Unwittingly, she awaits the arms of Death and the jaws of darkness… -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Week 2 Writer 13 "No matter if you're at the track for fun, or wind up with a tragic run, the 87th annual Racing of the Beasts has begun!" That's what the announcer bellowed out, it always left the runners jilted, but with this circuit track? I'm fairly certain that there's something different. An older man had cranked his engine with his tires up and lifted Next to him? A lady's camel that's been flapping gums and spitting. But most amazing? From a greater distance, close to a yacht, Was an ancient fisherman, who stays alone at the docks Examining every single wave and the floating of rocks. He'd hopefully thought the wind would blow and go with the plot So he won't have to return to work and he'd go home from his job... And this, THIS was the only hope that'd he'd got. He'd sit religiously, fidgeting at what he's shown in his knots. Muttering "If I win this race, I'll be a biblical man!" He said this knowing in his mind that he's not given a chance But he'll do anything to defy the cynical chants from the millions of fans. There were also planes and a 'copter, the competition was fierce All those around were surprised, he wasn't sitting in fear! He stood up with massive pride, he knew he was fit for this tier Stone faced, while the wind's whistle whips at his ears. Introductions take place, he bends, taking his bow. The race is soon to begin, he paces straight to the bow. The gates are made, and he makes a final wave to the crowd he'll be in their greatest graces once he's famous and proud and first place and profound to all the faces in town. 3... 2... 1... BOOM!!! All the racers started tearing off soon to figure out who will be victor in this marathon. At first we saw the boat for just a moment, blink, and there, it's gone so hopefully he won't be fine and dandy with a share of bronze. Hours Later In an astounding turn of events, the flying pilots had sunk! The camel's writhing it's lungs, the car? Driven right to a stump! The ancient man did it! He gets to spend his time in the sun! It took him 87 years... He had finally won! "Theory Of Elevation" ((Ground Floor – The Beginning)) Was it love at the time, or a moment of passion? It was all “Pep See” My mental clarity was opaque with soda’s refraction. Us kids jumping on a bed, Our “Soles on a Mattress” Speechless intimacy, the hold-n-collapse had stolen my captions. My soul was on fire, she was holdin the matches. (Something’s not right) I went from confident, swollen amassed stiff; to frozen and gaspin. holdin a half-ripped Trojan in total synapses. A broken–filactic!? Trepidations in moment of panic!! In my mind thoughts rolled in a gambit. This might slow up my chances, goals and advancement. ((1st Floor – What the Hell?)) ~ My Earth. Moon, and Stars, and Sky intertwined and distorted. Do we try in accordance with life or try the abortion? I realized from the morbid slides in my cortex that life is important. If I love myself then I will adore him!! I decided to forfeit and forward provide the resources. I “sucked at life, but somehow siphoned some morals!!” Steadily stipend for cash, but fightin for “more sense!!” My strife was a core sense, but sent heightened endorphins to 'Peer Amid' the Sands of time for the paper I'm telling you the 'Grind was Enormous' (( 2nd Floor -Growing Pains)) ~ Living in a little apartment; rips in my garments. A torn newspaper shy of being surrounded by illiterate garbage. I’m sick and I’m starving. Saved by the love in the crop! I suddenly stop to listen in awe when I hear her singing a song…to my unborn son. Man, my “pick” and my harvest!! No longer her Gentleman Caller; Gotta get that money right. I’m spinnin a job riddled with slobs; I focused on my work, finish it off, at the end of the day I’d relinquish it all. In hopes to one day frickin resolve it and be rid of it all quick. Walking through the sands of time, Iraqi style hoping to "land a mine" someday Feeling dead-alive, decayed cause this work is a cattle drive. It's lame, when's it my turn to "Crack a wild Cat-O-Nine?" Damnit my...(I needa chill it, I have a child...Nevermind) ((3rd Floor – Grinding Halt)) ~ Little man sleeps through the night! Stars glisten on his skin like sequins in flight. Cover his feet (Ok.) He’s alright; worth being a couple minutes late to flee for a flight. I got the promotion I needed, 50% travel so I yearn to be closed to sweetness and holdin my seed just one more proposal then I’m home for the weekend. I get to my destination, do my thing, and leave to ovations. Another victory then (then a ringtone symphony) The message that was sent to me: “Get home quick, we should talk, catch the plane that’s quickest please!!” I “jet back to the crib” to see wifey’s holdin my kid. I console her and sit then tears start flowing and shit. What would roll from her lips put loll to stomach, intense!…Straight the pits. “See, there was a lightning storm the night before. Christ assured…there wasn’t a flinch or wince; Damnit! You think it shoulda hyped him more!?” I tried some more…Clapped, moved and he laughed, loomed facing away. I was frantic, true. Hadda to face it today. Our son might be deaf, whatever is next might “be for more or for less...” ((4th Floor – Understanding)) ~ Doctors and tests, prodding the flesh. Audiologists make promises “Yes” but from Commodus’s breast. Audio Visual, cranium copied, its critical: 3 brain surgeries, 30 consultations, blessed w/no complications. Sloppy inpatient procedures to quick outpatient “Knock Em And Wait” bits. No common prevail, we honestly thought we had failed. (Shit.) The surgeries wouldn't work. His auditory nerves were too small, the procedures could have been prevented had we known all along. (The fuck!?) In my head I killed all involved. I put my shoe through the stall...in the bathroom. (What’d you do?) We stayed burning away at a “Wax Situation” to light his future. “Your son can sign to you sir (lol) so try to view words with eyes so lucid, yup, one day your son could be inclined as you sir” they told me... ((5th Floor - Elevation)) ~ We bought sign language books, learned from tutors. He was always learning new words, new language means new courage. He incurred his mother’s will power and my intellect. We couldn’t wait to see what project he'd finish next...(Stop, Flash Forward) I reflect on the trials and tribulations. Miles of simulations; All the while the situations were wild…we truly faced them. (To myself) “ It's been a while since you've correlated the past w/ present. Remember that initial "Damnit" after conception? Well, damnit it measures as spec on the timeline, paling the most drastic of measures. Stand and just treasure your clan in a “reverence unheard” because this might have all along the planning from heaven” (My boys playin, carefree) I saw deaf child’s silent grace in a dark time and place, Light a shade to overturn a ‘negative’ with a sense of whiter space. A Panoramic wider take on my tunnel vision, and a smiling face to match the suns emissions…Wow, that was my “Mistake!?” I pray every night for God to double his dreams...Just to list of a couple of things. In my world "Elevation" is attained when God pulls a couple of strings... ...true story By RhetoriK A bunch of chumps who suck too much to win.... Here are the names that were defeated in Round 1 & Round 2 of the 2014 Anonymous Topical Tournament. Round 1 Writer 1 = DJ Denton (Lost to Writer 32 by No Show) New Record – 2-2 (2 N/S) Writer 3 – OddGod (Lost to NoLuck by No Show) New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S) Writer 4 = Nerrson- (Lost to IAmFlow by No Show) New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S) Writer 5 = EdPoe (Lost to Barfight by No Show) New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S) Writer 7 = Rohan (Double No Show with GrizzEAT) New Record – 1-1 (1 N/S) Writer 8 = Erupt (Lost to HeliO by No Show) New Record – 0-3 (3 N/S) Writer 9 = Obey (Lost to Writer 24 3-0) New Record – 0-2 Writer 13 = Nyarlathotep (Lost to Writer 20 3-0) New Record – 0-1 Writer 14 = Row (Lost to Dysfunctional by No Show) New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S) Writer 16 = Manhattan (Double No Show with Subreal) New Record – 0-2 (2 N/S) Writer 17 = Subreal (Double No Show with Manhattan) New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S) Writer 18 = TerraByte (Lost to Writer 15 3-0) New Record – 0-1 Writer 21 = Crysis (Lost to SuperGuy by No Show) New Record – 0-3 (2 N/S) Writer 22 = Lizman (Lost to Wizdumb by No Show) New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S) Writer 23 = Rican (Lost to ViTRiOL by No Show) New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S) Writer 26 = GrizzEAT (Double No Show with Rohan) New Record – 1-2 (2 N/S) Writer 27 = TAKTIK909 (Lost to Writer 6 3-0) New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S) Writer 29 = TheDarkness (Lost to IAmFlow by No Show) New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S) Writer 31 = TheDopeMan (Lost to Writer 2 by No Show) New Record – 0-1 (1 N/S) Round 2 Writer 12 (Round 1) / Writer 14 (Round 2) = Super Guy (Beat Crysis by No Show) (Lost to Writer 6 3-0) New Record - 1-1 Writer 20 (Round 1) / Writer 10 (Round 2) = Dean (Beat Nyarlathotep 3-0) (Lost to Writer 3 3-0) New Record - 1-1 Writer 25 (Round 1) / Writer 4 (Round 2) = HeliO (Beat Erupt by No Show) (Lost to Writer 11 3-0) New Record - 1-1 Writer 10 (Round 1) / Writer 9 (Round 2) = ViTRiOL (Beat Rican by No Show) (Double No Show with Barfight) New Record - 1-1 (1 N/S) Writer 28 (Round 1) / Writer 12 (Round 2) = Barfight (Beat EdPoe by No Show) (Double No Show with ViTRiOL) New Record - 3-3 (2 N/S) Writer 30 (Round 1) / Writer 7 (Round 2) = NoLuck (Beat OddGod by No Show) (Double No Show with IAmFlow) New Record - 1-1 (1 N/S) Writer 33 (Round 1) / Writer 8 (Round 2) = IAmFlow (Beat Nerrison & TheDarkness by No Show) (Double No Show with NoLuck) New Record - 4-5 (4 N/S) Writer 19 (Round 1) / Writer 5 (Round 2) = Dysfunctional (Beat Row by No Show) (Lost to Writer 13 3-0) New Record - 3-5 (1 N/S) Writer 11 (Round 1) / Writer 1 (Round 2) = Wizdumb (Beat Lizman by No Show) (Lost to Writer 2 3-0) New Record - 1-1 Last edited by Hubert Cumberdale; 07-08-2014 at 02:49 AM.