The Big Pointy One

Like I said before, really well done! I really like it. I'm impressed how you captured the image of Stick from my jumbled messages and what-not; I know I can kinda ramble on... lots. Heh, I also like you managed to fit both backgrounds that I said in there, quite nifty-licious ^.^ (Hah, that time, I made that one up... heh...) Also, strange side-note, throw glasses, a little bit of redness on the face (gah, stupid acutane... not working 100%... heh...) and about 10 pounds, and that pretty much looks exactly like me. And as far as I know, Yui hasn't ever seen me irl before... unless of course I have a stalker, in which case... cooooooooooool! Oh, and one more thing... would it be cool if put this on my website? I personally don't see a reason why you wouldn't want me to, but I figured it'd be best to ask first ^.^ (With due credit of course )

Ah, we have a newcomer into our battle rap square rounding the corners freestyling with the slightest of care What's up Salinye, why are you here? did you lose a dare 'Cause you must have a good reason for battlin' with us I mean, you look like you have the stuff but that's not enough If you're gonna step between Ashton and Wyvmettic And myself, the Big Pointy One, well I'm pathetic but that doesn't matter, I suppose Nothing's phatter, than our prose And this is freestyle, it's how it goes I welcome you here with momentary grace but stand back i'm about to put you in place Alright, you jump in and talk about the kings talkin' like you just watched Lord of the Rings Oh wait, Ashton started that royalty talk Excuse me while I take a little walk, backwards take it back a couple lines, rewind, now forwards And my brain just broke, like some moldy old folk So I'm gonna blush and toss the mic to someone with talent While I head off to the corner, my last little bit I'm about to lament. (Bah, brain flopped)

Ah, but Lady Celes, I'll be here as long as possible (and to everyone else) ...like I said, my former roomie hasn't taken his computer back yet, so I have free reign (good call on my part for not taking my modem in yet) on it for the time being. In the event that he does come back and get it soon, I'll be posting (as originally mentioned, and mentioned before I moved out on my own ^.^ ) every Sunday and/or any other time I go to my parents' place ^.^ I luv ya guys, all of you ^.^

Alright, so obviously at this point, it's pretty clear that my roomie *still* hasn't picked up his comp yet. Which is good, 'cause I've been bitten by some sort of writing bug or something. Y'know, I think pretty much everything I said above can be disregarded. I feel stupid for even posting this silly nonsense in the first place. Y'know, we all have doubts and what-not, but there's no point in getting everyone all worked up about them. It's one thing to ask for help or something like that, but this silliness on my part... gah. Oh well, what's done is done, I'm sorry to be so annoying, and I hope everyone looks forward to whatever sort of craziness (story-wise) I put down next! ^.^

Wow, look at this, the Ashton's back he finally recovered from my previous attack his blade must have been sharpened but it doesn't matter 'cause of everyone up here, the Big Pointy One is sharper I've got a bag full of tricks to go with the BigPointyStick and you think that it's sick the way your girl gobbles my... woah, nevermind that, it's a little bit crude but I just can't help being a little bit rude I get a little bit scary when all these imposters try to step up they think they're freestylers but they just get messed up I'll give you all credit you can carry a beat and pull of the rhyme but there's only one Mighty Penner who's great all the time You all know and love this number one man We all know why, it's easy to understand His lyrics and vocals just can't be beat down, it's just that simple When he steps to the mic, he pops your head just like a pimple His words carry farther then the Mighty keep's walls His elegant prose always echoes through our halls No one can get quite enough of his stuff And no one really cares he's made out of fluff I'm takling of course about my little lapin friend The little guy who's gonna be with me 'til the end The rabbit who's smart, so cool and definiteally funny I'm talking of course about the one, the only, the Mr.Bunny Hit it, Mr.B! "..." Yeah, that's right you heard it from him He's victorious time and time again Over the mic no one is better, no one stands a chance But here's an opening, who's ready to dance? *And the mic flies in the air to...* (Edit: I really have to work more on the whole slamming thing... I realise all of my posts lately have just been ego-flares or something, which isn't bad, but it isn't great, IMHO )

(Ah, but of course, this is *really* fun... kinda like beating one of those dudes in a padded suit... and giving me a chance to flare my ego at the same time! ) Alright Wyvmettic, enough's enough I can handle your words, they're not tough I mean, your lines, they lack merit or value I'd be insulted, if I wasn't amused, I tell you But when you go rappin' illness about the Mr.B The location of your body's gonna be a mystery Mr.Bunny's my main man, he flips the beat As a team, we're impossible to defeat You cross the bunny-man's path and you're sure to fail It's like monopoly; do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars go directly to jail! Naw, it's more like sorry! 'cause you'll be on your knees Begging for mercy "Oh please don't hurt me, please sir, please!" Or maybe it's like crib, what the hell double-skunked, that'd explain the smell that wafts up as you hitch your skirt and hit the dirt leave a dust trail as sure as you fail running and retreating, me and Mr.B be cheatin' Kinda like the Warp Zone in Mario 1 Pass through the crap and then we're done You'd be the king koopa 'cause you think you're supa fly, worked into a stupor You don't realise it's game over as we cross the bridge, "Whoops sorry the princess is in another castle." Mine! (Alright, this one wasn't that good )

Lump- Hey, what can I say, I live to keep everyone entertained, or at least, as many people as possible. You're (like everyone else) a cool guy, so I'm happy to do online stuff with ya. If you're having fun, I'm having fun ^.^

Woah, woah, woah, just hold up a second Wyvern's steppin' up, for a battle I reckon? Alright, that's fine I'm up for that, If you can handle this battle rap But you said you're already abandoning me Seems more like you're running from me Retreating into the woods 'Cause I've got the goods but I'll let you in on a little secret of mine Like the trees I'll sting you like pine With my needles of verse and rhyme Sticks vs swords, the advantage is mine This stick comes from the mightiest tree watch out when the words come free Yo Wyv, I can see your scales, their beneath your tail as you're running away, I laugh as you fail I'll leave you blinded and reading brail But no, seriously I'll give you some respect It took some guts to step against me, I'll bet And you've got some nice rhythm and some decent beats You just have to remember who it is that rules these streets More importantly the stage and the crowd They're sucking it up, cheering so loud 'Cause the love this stuff, my battle raps My fierce responce and quick comebacks But I'll toss the mic back before my head flies off Even I get so arrogant that I have to stop.

Yeah, one thing I always forget, is that (as far as I know) when someone is cloned, they are actually raised from infancy; not like in cheesy sci-fi where it's like you step into a little room, and *pop* out comes two of you or something. Heh. But, say for a moment that that *was* the way it went... would that duplicate have the same memories as yourself? Or would they be more or less a 'blank slate' ...hard to guess, methinks. On an actual clone, one raised from infancy though... would they have that memory imprinted on their genes, as stated above? That'd be one long life filled with deja vu. Heh. Deja vu, on the other hand, I have an interesting theory about... well, interesting to me anyways... and that gets into the whole time + universe infinite thing... kinda loopy. It's all instinctive reasoning with no facts behind it, so really, it's kinda pointless

Alright, here comes my last series of lines 'cuz Pestilence, you're wasting my time You think you're hotter than me on the mic? Seems to me you've been blinded by the light Or maybe you're just light in the head My presence on the stage fills you with dread I'm cooler than the ice beneath the floes And hotter than the slime between your toes Yeah, that's gross, a disgusting comparison But what can I say, I don't feel like sparing you son So what was that about my girlfriend and a pickle? If I had one, she'd give you less thanthat nickle 'Cause that's about all that you're worth, five cents Steppin' up to me, issuing the challenge- that's dense! Your attack is losing momentum like a train without wheels I'm staying strong like a knight armed with an array of steels Can you dodge my rhyming sword? Yeah, and my shield is my word To deflect all your silly little lines and verses Your pathetic little rhymes and curses Why don't you just take the back seat and enjoy the lingering taste of defeat! (I think I got a bit harsh in this one, take no offense, as it was not serious ^.^)

(S'all good, I'm all for gettin' into it ) I'm back for more, can you handle this ish? You'll be on the floor, can you beat me? You wish. you say your words have influence? Naw, they lack any common sense You spit flames, what like exhaust? you're exhausted, about to get tossed You want to eat me? Be my guest, Everyone wants a piece of the best Talkin' bout the lyrical tentacle-rape It's you who's entangled; can't escape When I start to spin you're already done Seriously it's all over for you better run When I pick up my pace I'll be all in your face If you want the competition, I'll step it up a notch my words sting more than a shot to the crotch! Oooh, that's dirty, how rude of me Just trying to warn you, you see If you want to drag in the Wyvmettic You'll be seriously beat, I bet it The Wyv-man will serve you like yesterday's dinner Cold leftovers that's all you are, Me, I'm the winner! Ha, how lame is that my silly little verse? Step up again, and I'll prolly do worse. Peace!

His silent attention focused on the camp, Usagi easily noticed the glint of Kasmandre's Raimen daggers being drawn from their sheaths. It was fortunate that he was the only one to notice. The rabbit warrior whispered to Katzaniel. "I have a feeling the camp's about to get a lot more busier... perhaps you could shift-" Usagi was interrupted by Katzaniel, who had a clear understanding of what was going on, and what to do. He shifted into a black panther of the darkest shade and stalked off into the shadows. Hunching low, almost crawling, Usagi approached the camp with great stealth, a trio of kunais hidden benath each of his paws, ready to send flying at the first notice. Usagi didn't like the odds of fighting so many archers head-on, but he'd risk it if he had to.

But that's just the thing- I believe they are working on cloning body part, sans brain. I believe this is dubbed "Organ Harvesting." There are issues with cloning humans with a brain, as ever-so-delightfully pointed out above, but I re-iterate (not as if there's much argument so far) that there doesn't seem like there's much wrong with creating lumps of flesh for our benefit... On a side note, one would have to think that cloning would really deal with the individual. For example, if I had the notion that I would could live happily knowing that I wasn't the real me, or something like that, it would be fine for me to be cloned, would it not? I'd probably want another of me to hang around, and keep entertained. I think if cloning ever gets certified, it'd all have to be consentual. I'm sure there's some people who wouldn't mind having a clone. It's not like everyone on the planet would have to be cloned or anything.

I'm on a roll lately, so I'll oblige... ~Ahem~ Yo, alright, we've got a newcomer With rhymes hotter than summer Pestilence is so dope, he fills everyone with fear Ha! That's so funny, I almost shed some tears You'll flame me so quickly? Naw, I'll drop you sickly I'll douse you with a bucket of water 'Cause compared to me, there's none hotter Like seriously, are you joking? Stepping up to the mic and croaking Like some sort of elementary frog Ribbit ribbit woof, no wait, that's a dog Kinda like your girl (Who I gave a l'il whirl) Oh, no no no, just joking, that ish has gone too far This is a battle freestyle, but I'm not gonna scar You for life, Just a little scratch Back off, you're no match For me, the BigPointyStick My rhymes are just way too slick. My beat is just way too quick. And I'll leave you way too sick. Heaving on the floor, retching Can't handle more, I'm betting So go ahead and take the mic from me Let's see what you got, let's see... (Just as you said, nothin' personal ^.^ Just a bunch of entertainment-value ego-flaring)

Yeah, the identity part of a clone would be messed up. Not good at all. However, I'm all for brain-less body harvesting... it seems evil, or like playing god, but I think it's all for the better, personally. ~Stick shrugs~

Another Tyler? *Ominous music* But I am also Tyler... *Ominous music again* ...the plot thickens... Err, whoops. Sorry. Spam. Me = bad. Sorry. *Stick bows humbly and runs away*

*Stick nimbly plucks the mic before Time ends can even grab it, an evil grin on his face* Hold up Ashton Blades, you're getting dull Your battle lyrics are beginning to lull the audience, they're all falling asleep all the weaker peeps are beginning to weep Woah, woah, woah, before you beging to curse Spit at me, your slam-down hip-hop verse Let me ask this question, this query When did this turn into the battle theory A royal rumble of the audible type Getting into all the gangster hype Rousing all the crowd into shouts of anger it's like the robot "Will Robinson, Danger!" Naw naw, that ish is wack, weird and lame Quoting old sci-fi, that just ain't my game I'm more of a creative man, a poet if you will hard to understand, but it gives me that thrill The beauty of the art, you just can't compare But feel free, slam it right back, if ever you dare! But remember these words, stick them in your head Everyone who steps up to the mic winds up dead 'cuz they can't comprehend my mental attack each word sends you farther a step back Yeah, Ashton Blade's gettin' dull, better stop bashing him in the skull Ha, isn't that such a nasty trick? to hit him with the BigPointyStick. (Mr.Bunny): "..."

See, I always figured the medium isn't as important as the artist, for it is the artist who creates the picture. It's not like a few years down the road there's going to be a ban on paper, or canvas, or whatever other thing an artist would use to create their work (although you never know) The thing to remember is, is that a lot of these people *choose* to use digital media to do their work ^.^ Keep it cool,

That's also what I was trying to get at... sometimes math is hard to transcribe into words from my brain... heh.

OOC: w00t! (that was probably my most... substance-less... post... ever. Heh.)

~Ahem~ After all arrogance Ashton's back blurting blunderous beats can't cope concentration creativity down done doing diddily everyone's energy escalates fervently firing funny freestyles gift of gab giving grace gone hurried harmonies hating hurting integrity intelligence inspiring jokers jesting jovially karate kids kicking lofty losers' love of live lyrics music mumbled mercifully mowing new neurotic noobalicious original oral orangutans? Peredhil, please proceed quirky quandaries quickly rolling respect 'round the room Seii, see suspect survival Time Ends totals truth trickily Unequally Under, uniquely up Vincent Sliver virtually victorious Whynotsin wasting words, what? Watch me... Xerox, xylaphone, x-rays xenon Yo, y'all yonder, yearly Zebras zapping... zzz.... (I'm tired, fell asleep.) Heh, not nearly as good as when Blackalicious did it, but fun nonetheless! (Edit: I shout out a friendly challenge to everyone/anyone to try and do better than I did, which shouldn't be too hard! )

That's tricky, but it's all about the math. The dollar's there, you just have to do it right. Pretend for a minute, that the pizza guy gives the three guys all their money back. Each man pays the delivery guy $9 dollars, and keeps the extra one dollar. The pizza guy keeps 2 dollars for himself, which leaves 25 dollars for the pizza. The two dollars at the end is supposed to be subtracted, not added (Since, technically, the guys are paying 25/3 for the pizza, and 2/3 for the tip... add that up, you get 27/3, which leaves you the three extra dollars...)

Hopper- I meant my comment as no argument, and I agree, at least about the part on each case is individual ^.^

There are exceptions to every rule... ...so not *everything* can be set as black or white. Donnie Darko anyone?

In his dancing and mindless wandering, Dierden found himself heading not south and out of the mountains, but west, further into the goblin-infested passes and valleys. Still, he paid his the alarms of his warrior senses no heed. His only duty now was to himself; to his pursuit of knowledge and purpose. Dierden was now on his journey to find himself. In his mindless wandering, Dierden quickly found himself upon a collection of straw huts set within a long, narrow valley devoid of all but the simplest vegetation. It was a goblin village, surprisingly intact. Dierden supposed that the Alliance hadn't made it to this point yet. Shrugging it off, the tall wanderer was about to head off to the west, when a handful of goblins wielding shoddy spears and clubs jumped from behind a small barrier of rocks and crates. "Gullak geh!" said one, probably some sort of commanding official. Dierden frowned, as he couldn't understand the goblin's speech. He made a motion with his hands, one meaning that he meant no harm. "I don't want to cause you harm." The goblins with spears jumped forward and the ones with clubs growled as they smacked their clubs into their hands. Although they seemed angry and aggressive, a look of fear was clearly planted behind their masks of determination. Dierden frowned again. He really didn't want to hurt them, but he did have no choice but to defend himself. Slowly he took his long spear from his back and set himself in a loose defensive position. He made no move to attack. The goblins, intimidated beyond fear moved in quickly, poorly-made weapons swinging wildly as they screamed in their native tongue. Dierden sighed and brought his spear up in a deflective arc, sending the goblin's spears clear of lethal range. The clubs batted harmlessly against open air. Dierden spun into his upward swing and brought the butt of his spear down on of the goblin's weapon-holding hand. Yelping in pain, the goblin dropped his spear and crouched, now more focused on his hand then the intruding Dierden. Angered, the other four goblins encircled Dierden, weapons poking in threatingly. With practiced caution, Dierden spun his spear deftly, batting away jab and thrust easily. Eventually, he grew tired of the game and started adding force to his blows, until all the goblins were disarmed. A commotion had been raised, and now a crowd kept a safe distance from the combatants. Dierden grew increasingly more frustrated as the stubborn goblins still pressed their attack. The tall man slammed his spear downward, blade first and lodged it firmly in the soft ground. "Enough!" he yelled, to no avail. The five goblins, thinking they were now on even terms rushed Dierden and piled on top of him. Although individually, Dierden was stronger than each goblin, he could not keep all of them off of him. Each time he threw one off, two more replaced it; goblins from the crowd were now joining in. Dierden quickly found himself at the bottom of a goblin pileup, blood pouring slowly from scratch and bite wounds. Luckily, Dierden was saved. "Kellaugh! Gishagisha gono. Velsta vok." confused, the goblins got off of Dierden, who slowly rose to his feet. Before him was a goblin that was obviously older than the rest. His green skin had paled to the point where it was almost grey. Warts and moles that ended in spurts of hair sprouted all over his body like mushrooms on some long-forgotten tree. His forehead was wrinkled and his eyes were squinted so much it seemed as if they were closed. Tattered rags hung loosely from his bony shoulders, barely providing his body protection from any of the elements. This was obviously the village elder. He spoke to Dierden in a broken common tongue. "Come. Hut. Speak." Dierden blinked for a moment, then shrugged, picked up his spear and slowly followed the elder goblin to his meager straw hut. They both sat cross-legged across from each other at a low table in the center of the room. Dierden spoke first. "Why did you save me?" he spoke slowly, as he guessed the elder had trouble speaking common. "You not want hurt people. Mine." "No." "Why?" Dierden frowned. He looked at the elder, a sincere look in his eyes. "Why? It was the look in their eyes. Fear. This crusade of my race is not so noble as it seems. We are stronger than you. It isn't fair." The elder nodded sagely, taking in as much as he could. After a moment of silence, he replied, "But some goblins, mean. Hurt people." Dierden's frown deepened. The elder was right. But something was wrong. "Maybe, but they are usually dealt with accordingly, as is anyone who commits a crime. This, this slaughter, this is genocide. This is evil. All in the name of the light! Bah." "Yes. Grak." "You must run!" The elder looked at Dierden with a confused look on his face. "The armies, they are heading this way. Your village doesn't stand a chance! You MUST flee!" "Home." "You can always find a new home. For now, you must find others, safety." The elder leaned back in contemplation. The whole situation was hard for him to understand, but he knew Dierden was right. "Come with us?" This time, Dierden did the contemplating. Could he really join with the goblins against the army he was only recently a part of? The moral dilemma raged within his mind, and within his heart, and eventually his heart won him over. "I will. I will fight for you, and die if I must. It is the right thing to do." So as fast as they could, Dierden and the elder goblin gathered the village, who was still somewhat unnerved by the tall human's presence. They gathered all their belongings and fled, a full day before the Alliance stormed into an empty village. This process repeated many times, making Legman's army more and more restless each day. The general was confused, because he had never come across such an odd occurence before. Somehow, he suspected that Dierden had something to do with it. He heaved a sigh of disappointment. He would hate having to bury the boy.