Been looking for this one again for a while. First saw it years ago.

This is the AMV that convinced me I needed to watch 08th MS Team

Due to the fact that Axis America is rather boring as a set of enemies really, I've pulled this one down.

The earlier rumours were premature; this time, http://www.dorktower.com/2009/04/08/rest-in-peace-dave/]the report has come from the family.

Anyone for a game of Blackmoor, in memory of the man?
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

A few people saw the beta 1.0 version of this earlier, but after messing about with the settings, I've revamped it considerably in order to be A. more
linear and B. a bit less monotonous.

Comments, critiques, and snarky commentary are all welcome.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

And here's my second Live server creation...

Arc Name: Over Nine Thousand!
Arc ID: 6773
Morality: Villainous
Creator: @Acyl
Difficulty Level: Moderate

Synopsis: Meet the Power Broker. He's the man with a plan. He's got a scheme to make you stronger! More POWERFUL! Mightier than the love child of Statesman and Recluse! No, really. And it doesn't involve a diet or exercise, either. C'mon, whadda ya say?

Estimated Time to Play: 10-25 minutes (One mission only, linear map)

Notes: This is a SINGLE mission. Map's a bit big, but easy to progress through in a straight line. Contains several optional boss fights, and quite a few surprises. But no real AVs or EBs - only ones used as non-combat hostages.
This is supposed to be comedy. Unless my writing fails, in which case it'll be tragedy instead. Does this work for you? Acyl wants to know. =D
-- Acyl

As our mighty leader, Master Bob requested - let's see if we can get individual threads for announcing and commenting on arcs, shall we? Now on the LIVE SERVERS, it's...
Arc Name: Striking Midnight
Arc ID: 5361
Morality: Heroic
Creator: @Acyl
Difficulty Level: Moderate - Difficult

Synopsis: A mysterious group wants the Midnighters dead. And you're all that stands in the way. Can you save the Midnight Squad? Remember, no good deed goes unpunished.

Estimated Time to Play: 15-30 minutes (3 missions, but first couple of maps are small)

Notes: Sequel to the heroside Midnight Squad arc from Montague Castanella. A serious story, though there's some light dialogue. Final mission contains EB/AV (scales to an EB on heroic), with optional NPC allies for support. Uses tight indoor maps, so more suitable for small teams. 
Enemies are supposed to be challenging, but not impossibly so. Final boss is meant to hit hard. But is it too much? Let me know. I'm also wondering whether my storytelling is too blunt. This is a dramatic tale, but serious stuff ain't my forte. I'd be really grateful if you good could rate and review. =D
(Thanks to everyone who's already commented on it!)
-- Acyl

Ok, so I mention that I updated my story (http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4380014/1/F ... l_Panic_As]here because I can't pimp it enough ) in the other peoples fanfiction forum and within an hour I have more visitors than I ussualy have in a month.

O_O

That's quite motivational, thanks people. (Thought a review or two wouldn't be bad either, *hint*hint*.)

Do other people have similar experiences with these forums?
E: "Did they... did they just endorse the combination of the JSDF and US Army by showing them as two lesbian lolicons moving in together and holding hands and talking about how 'intimate' they were?"
B: "Have you forgotten so soon? They're phasing out Don't Ask, Don't Tell."

...no, make that Florida.

Hey folks. I managed to creep over to the resort's "business center" to use its computers. It's halfway through the week, and we've
bullrushed through DisneyWorld. The boys are no longer convinced Disney's nothing but princesses and Hannah Montana.

I'd say it's been fun time except one of my nephews started the trip with some kind of intestinal bug and gave it to his mother, who then transmitted
it to me somehow. I'm recovering -- had my first real meal in about 36 hours not long ago -- but I'm still not 100%. Fortunately, the rest of the
week isn't as heavily booked as the beginning was.

Weird weather down here -- before we left, forecasts said something like six days straight of thunderstorms. That went away by the time we hit Orlando, but we
got some rain two days ago, and since then it's been in the 50s and 60s (Fahrenheit). Very strange, especially given the near-90s we had at the start.

I'll be back on Easter morning; until then, take care all.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

Issue 14 is patching to live as I type.

Bit of advice if you didn't take a look-see on Test: there are Architect buildings in zones other than where the pop-up contact is. To avoid a crowded and
lagged Mercy and Atlas, try just about every Villain Zone except Grandville, and every non-hazard Hero Zone except Croatoa. There should be an NPC on the
second floor of the building who you can talk to for Tutorial purposes.
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''

-- James Nicoll

With all the extra time my grandad has had since he retired he has wrote up some of the stories he heard in his younger days. Here is one of them, please tell him what you think.

Quote:On March 1, 1989, Harry Whittaker and I went fishing at Lost Creek
Reservoir. We caught our limits but this expedition came near to being a
tragedy.

 

                We
pulled Harry’s 12 ft. boat on it’s trailer and put in at the ramp on the East
side of the Reservoir. This was late in the morning I think, a chilly,  cloudy day, but calm enough; the boat had a
small canvas top, just enough to keep us out of the bad weather    About an hour later we were trolling under
the Payton bridge headed upstream.  The
boat was powered by a 712 HP (I think) outboard, and also had a battery
operated trolling motor. We kept going upstream until we about ran  out of water, several miles I think, and
fishing was slow.   Finally we shut off
the gas and let the boat drift back downstream until we had several feet of the
bright clear water under us.  It was
misting a little with occasional light rain showers.

 

                The
fishing picked up and we were busy for awhile, 
most of the time being busy just untangling the lines.  Harry was a klutz,  but very calm about it all, and little by
little we added the fish to the fishbox, hardly noticing that one by one the
few other fishermen who were in the area had pulled out.  The weather was lowering and the misting
turned into snow flurries, and when the rain showers turned into snow showers
about four
o’clock we decided to head on downriver.

 

                We
cranked up the outboard but for some reason we could not get it out of
reverse.  Some thing had jammed!   Try as we might we could not get the boat to
go forward, so we gave up and headed downstream in reverse, at about three
miles per hour.  In the meanwhile the
snow got serious, as in just a short time we had two and three inches of snow
in the boat, and the daylight was dimming away.

 

                After
what seemed like two or three eternities 
we ran out of gas,  and
daylight.  We hooked up the battery to
the trolling motor and nosed downstream 
again.  Fortunately the snow was
thick enough on the sloping river banks so they reflected the last dredge of
daylight so we were able to navigate somewhat. 
Also the snow would quit now and then giving us some relief            Pretty soon though the battery
started to lose its energy and little by little we went slower and slower.  From time to time we scraped one bank or
another and poled  ourselves off and did
some one oar paddling to keep us moving. 
We finally admitted it-we were cold, wet and miserable, and lost.

 

                But
we were still moving.

 

                At
about 8
o’clock we could see the skeleton of the bridge ahead
of us,  highlighted every once in awhile
when a passing motorist, or truck would drive across.               We pulled up to the West bank, directly under the
bridge and tried to get out of the boat with a rope to latch on to
something.  All the somethings were
covered with eight inches of snow, but we finally kicked around enough to
expose a rock to tie up to.  About then,
Harry stepped off the boat into a couple feet of cold water.  He got back into the boat which we pushed
sideways to the bank so he could get out easier, which he did do, but as soon
as he got two feet under him he slipped again and fell face down into the snow.     We had been to this same place in the
summertime and knew there was a path up the steep hillside to the road up
above, so we kicked around for awhile and found what looked like the shallow
opening we were looking for.  We would go
for awhile and then wait until another car came by to give us a few seconds of
light so we could try to pick the next section of the climb.  A lot of this climb was on all fours, climb a
little, slip a little, climb some more. 
It probably took us about an hour to climb up to the road, and we were
thankful at last to get onto the flat of the road.  The snowplow 
had already been through  which
made it much easier going.  We had
decided we were going to walk to Prospect, about eight miles I think.

 

                A
little while later a car came down the road . Southbound and we were too tired
even to wave at them.  A little later a
Northbound pickup came by; the driver stopped and asked us if we wanted a ride.
Such a question!

 

                This
Good Samaratin, [[Larry Loftus, PO Box
29, Prospect, OR. 97536 --560-3691] was a Forest
Service Employee who took us to his trailer home in Prospect. We were close to
hypothermia, Harry moreso than I, as one of Harry’s legs was soaked up to his
hip from that stepoff into the water down at the boat.   Harry phoned his son, Bruce, who, after an
hour or so, drove up to Prospect through the snowstorm and using some magical
sense of direction found the trailer house we were in.  He took us to his own home near Eagle Point,
dried us out and  tucked us in for the
night    After he got home with us, Bruce
phoned the Sheriff to call off the hunt posse which already was forming to find
us,  and we phoned Ethel, his mother, and
also Nelle.

 

                The
next day we went down with Bruce in his Ba10:49PM  1/13/95ss boat, found the boat intact, and
pulled it back to the landing and then home. We cleaned the fish, untangled the
lines, and got ready to go fishing again.

 

                Just
another day, almost.    End of Story