ok, So I'm hoping to lay out a significant new chunk of VIIOR content while my muse is here and active (and entertained by Gamma, so expect more of her
soon as well).

But I need to ping some of the other people on a few points:

1) who is around Bob's house 3-4 weeks from the incident (clank's arrival point)

2) Would clank be accepted with open arms or given probationary status? Will an escort be provided for the trip back to CA to get the rest of her gear (and if
so who is up for it)?

3) What is our timeline for various happenings? I know that we had 5 major plot points laid out:

Arc 1: 'I'm wearing what?!', wherein people realize what's happened to them, realize what they can do, and cope with the personal
repercussions.

Arc 2: In which PVP freaks, griefers, and generally power-hungry jerkwads start to go off the rails as they realize what they've stumbled into.

Arc 3: In which the grown-ups catch up to what's happening and start to take what steps they feel neccessary to deal with it.

Arc 4: In which the first 'true supervillains' begin to crop up - not just wrecking banks for pocket change, but holding cities for ransom, taking over
third-world countries, etc.

Arc 5: In which Portal Corp finally tracks down what came of the colliding probes.

I assume that at 3-4 weeks in we are still firmly in Arc 3, anyone have problems with this (if so I can shift some of planned time tables around)

4) What are peoples thoughts on a base of operations? Is an effort underway to augment Bob's house (as this seems like the current de facto gathering area)
with things like: medical bays, research areas, communications, crude teleportation setups (summoning if nothing else), and of course enough POWER to run it
all. Clank is inclined to setup a place separate from residential housing, but I have no clue what other people lean towards. Bob of course gets final call as
to what happens in his house

The reason I ask is, Clank will begin to setup an east coast operations center. The question is just if she will be starting this on her own or augmenting
something that already exists.

I'm really hoping to get some sort of answer on #1 and #2, as they have the largest effect on the bits I'm planning. #3 and #4 can wait and be fleshed
out after I have the first few bits posted.
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy

One of our planes was missing

Two hours overdue

One of our planes was missing

With all its gallant crew

The radio sets were humming

We waited for a word

Then a noise broke

Through the humming and this is what we heard

Comin' in on a wing and a prayer

Comin' in on a wing and a prayer

Though there's one motor gone

We can still carry on

Comin' in on a wing and a prayer

-- Coming in on a Wing
and a Prayer (1943), by Harold Adamson and Jimmie McHugh

Tales of the Legendary:


On a Wing and a Prayer


"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

She didn't hear him, at first. She heard the spoken syllables...but it took a moment for them to form a coherent sentence in her brain, and another
moment for her to make sense of it.

Belatedly, Elizabeth looked up, her face somewhere between bewildered and apologetic. Fumbling, she lifted her duffle bag from the chair next to her.
"Sorry," she murmured, instinctively, the early stages of a blush coming to her cheeks. She was tired, very tired, but that didn't excuse the
social faux-pas.

The man standing beside the bank of seats smiled faintly. "Quite alright," he replied. He didn't raise his voice, but he did enunciate the
words carefully, speaking over the background murmur of the crowded lounge. "Hope I'm not bothering you."

Elizabeth blinked. "Uh, no, sorry," she mumbled, "just didn't hear you at first...sorry, I'm tired."

Settling down in the now vacated chair, the man placed his suitcase by his feet. Then he made a show of checking his watch. "Hm, yes," he said,
sympathetically, "it's an ungodly hour, isn't it? I swear, they schedule these flights just to torment people. Sadists, the lot of 'em."

Lifting a hand to rub her eyes, Elizabeth managed a weak laugh. Except it came out as more of a gurgle. "It's not that early," she said.

"It's too early to be getting on a damn airplane. Honestly," he insisted, with an illustrative wave of the hand, "I'm sure this
entire airport is built on some...I don't know, ancient pagan burial ground. Or something. Part of a nefarious mystic plot to channel the suffering of
passengers."

Elizabeth shook her head. Rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from her blurred vision, she turned to give the guy a proper look. He lay slouched in the
chair beside her, his lanky frame stretched over the awkwardly-shaped institutional seating...amazingly without any trace of discomfort. He wore black slacks
and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a partially undone red necktie looped round his collar. He peered at her through the tinted lenses of a pair of
similarly red sunglasses. Even the slim briefcase resting on the floor by his seat was all red leather and black trim.

Along with his dark hair and pale skin, he was such a dramatically coloured figure...she wasn't sure whether to be impressed or bemused. Especially
when he continued to speak, sounding absolutely and utterly serious.

"They tire us out by forcing us to be here two bloody hours before the flight," he intoned, a dire edge creeping into his voice, "then make
us sit here due to 'delays' until our muscles have atrophied and the flesh has rotted from our bones. At this rate, we'll be ready for boarding
when the Archangel Gabriel toots his f'ing horn."

Elizabeth couldn't help it. She snickered, her shoulders shaking. "You really hate flying," she asked, "don't you?"

"Loathe it," he answered, instantly, almost before she finished the question, "I'm the sort who likes his feet on God's solid
ground."

"And you're not shy about sharing, I see," Elizabeth retorted.

He smirked in response. "Looked like you needed cheering up, hm? Don't think you're the jet-setting type either, if you don't mind me
saying."

"Good guess," Elizabeth said, dryly. She brought a hand to her hair, running her fingers through the tangled locks. "No offence, this is a
great country and all...but I'm glad to be heading home."

Eyebrows rose, as the guy next to her drew back in his seat, giving her an odd look. "Great? Come, now, yes, I know, it's in the name, but it
rains too much here to be more than mildly satisfactory."

"Clearly," Elizabeth shot back, "you've never been to Seattle. Britain isn't nearly as soggy."

"It's been an unseasonably dry spring season," he said, piously, placing a hand flat over his heart, "trust me, there is nothing more
fickle and vagarious than British weather."

"Riiiiiight," Elizabeth drew the word out, rolling her eyes.

"Fine, fine," he said, conceding defeat. "I take it you're American, then?"

"Elizabeth," she said, by way of introduction, pointing to herself, poking the tip of her index finger into her sweater-clad collarbone,
"dumb tourist."

"Well, not a tourist for much longer, unless the plane decides to give up entirely and strand you." He glanced over at the closed gate, round the
other end of the boarding lounge. Elizabeth followed his gaze, and sighed. Aside from a pair of lethargic-looking airline attendants, there was no sign of
life.

"Call me Walker," he said, finally, "from...somewhere around here."

"Walker," Elizabeth mused, "like the..."

"Yes, yes," he said, with a theatrical air of faux irritation, "like the crisps."

Elizabeth snorted. "I was going to say 'Texas Ranger', actually."

"If I was Chuck Norris," Walker stated, flatly, "I wouldn't be in bloody Heathrow waiting for a plane. I'd roundhouse kick a few
times and helicopter across the Atlantic."

She winced. "Touché."

Walker, nodded solemnly. "Quite. I'm sure he can actually do that, you know. With all the stories on the Internet, it's obvious he's more
powerful than Statesman."



"Pfft," Elizabeth made a dismissive gesture, "please, everyone in Paragon knows the ultimate hero is Blue Steel."

He looked confused. "Don't think I've heard of him," Walker admitted, sounding vaguely apologetic, "is he..."

"No, no. Well, I mean, he's a real costumed hero, but...sorry," Elizabeth tried to explain, before shrugging her shoulders and giving up,
"it's a joke. Paragon City local thing."

"Right," Walker said, nodding, "one of those things. Say no more. Now, I'm thinking..."

But he didn't finish the thought. Instead, he trailed off in mid-sentence, turning his head. Leaning forward, he peered towards the boarding gate
across the room. Elizabeth couldn't see his eyes, but she was sure he was squinting hard through his sunglasses. She looked over herself, staring past the
milling crowd of impatient passengers packed into the airport lounge, but couldn't see what had caught his attention.

"Uh," Elizabeth began, "what are you doing?"

Walker held up a hand, one finger raised. "Hush," he said, "any moment now."

A second ticked by, then two, then three. Elizabeth was just about to break the strange silence, before a crackle of static sounded over the lounge's
public address system - and a harried-sounding voice announced:

"Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the delay. Flight BA-238 to Boston will be boarding shortly. We'd like to invite all passengers from First
and Business Class, and all Economy class passengers seated from rows sixty-five to sixty-eight to approach the gate for boarding. Please have your boarding
passes ready for inspection. All passengers from First and Business Class, and all..."

"That's it," Walker snapped his fingers, an expression of glee on his face. He stood in one fluid motion, sweeping to his feet. He lifted his
briefcase with one hand. With the other, he indicated the line already forming at the gate. "After you, madam."

"Wait, wait," Elizabeth protested, hurriedly fishing around in her pocket for her boarding pass. She pulled out the slightly crumpled strip of
paper, searching for her seat number. Which was, she realised, just within the range of the Economy Class seats the flight attendants had called. She stood up
quickly, pausing only to retrieve her own carry-on luggage, looping the straps round her shoulder.

Then she blinked.

"Hey," Elizabeth said, "how did you---"

"Trade secret," Walker answered, with a conspiratorial grin.

"That's...vaguely creepy," Elizabeth muttered, as they walked to join the passengers shuffling into the plane.

"I know," Walker said, sagely, "I try."

I've put it up at MediaMiner:

http://www.mediaminer.org/fanfic/view_st.php/153627 - if you've read the partial post I
put up in the old thread, the third part won't be repeating very much for you.

I've not finished the Mizuki episode yet so that's the end of it there, but I'm going to add the Team Seven (Sakura, Sasuke, Tenten) bells test
here for comment.

Aklso - Valles, I went closer to canon on Naruto's parentage, making him Yondaime's son instead of nephew and Kushina his mother, but kept Mitarashi as
Yondy's clan. If you're planning on rsurrecting TGNH however, I'll switch back, since presumably you wouldn't have made the change without some
kind of reason.
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows

So who would Mag go to for help on a magical engineering project - specifically, a magic-based untraceable cellphone/voice link?
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies

Seems I'm not the only one who doesn't like the supposed "next great disc format".

The Inquirer: http://www.theinquirer.net/gb/inquirer/ ... ank-reason]Blu-Ray sales tank for good reasons

Even though it's obvious the author has an axe to grind, I can't disagree with anything he says...
--
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

In the process of being deleted.

Remember the Two Cows Guide
to CoH/CoV?

It's back, and I've posted an expanded version on the official CoH forums. In the Virtue server section - I didn't want to risk the sharks of the
main CoH discussion. But folks seem to be liking it. I've added a whole bunch of my own gags, and pulled a fair number from our own forum thread on this. Where I've used your jokes, I've given
name credit accordingly. Thanks everyone. =D
-- Acyl

Is there any possibility of there being a Step in this world, or should I start thinking of doing a Stagger?

Eden:

The Eden Trial was a breeze, again. I believe we've got this one mastered. Personally, I'm gonna try and push it once more, with Mag, for the badge,
but I think we're about done with it as a group. It _appears_ that a busy Fire/Kin can provide enough buff/debuff to get the job done. Nothing special to
report for it, just a nice solid run.

Cavern of Transcendence:

This was the most embarrassed I've ever been on a TF. When we were all in and focussed, we did great, but I felt like we just weren't 'on' for
this one. I personally feel like I was not performing anywhere near the top of my game - and I apologise for that.

However, we muddled through and succeeded, despite some wonderful stupidities on my part (whaddya mean we don't clear the room? they're lookin' at
me funny! *clobber dead tank*). The CoT trial isn't actually that difficult, provided you have a pathfinding stealthing teleporter.

Being back down to level 15 was almost painful, I have to admit.

The CoT trial is a single-mission timed trial, levels 12-15, that occurs in the Hollows. The Trial requires 8 people. Given the presence of a teleporting
stealther, the trial can be _very_ simple, and require only three minor fights and one moderate fight. Start the TF, and all zone into the Troll Tunnels (there
is an entrance within easy walking distance of the TF start point). The Teleporter then moves to the door to the Trial Zone (which is marked on the map), and
teleports folk in. All zone into the Trial Zone. At this point, the Teleporter moves to the Locked Door and tank-drops in firepower until the run up to the
Locked Door is cleared. The Teleporter then places a group member at each of the monoliths. Timing the next part is best/easiest off of the Mission Timer.

All eight click simultaneously, once the Monoliths are down, the Teleporter returns to the Locked Door area and assembles the team. The tank opens the door,
and aggros the group consisting of some LTs and Minions and a Monster behind it.

Care should be taken during this fight to prevent aggro of the additional 'hostage taker' spawn at the back of the room. Once the Monster and crew is
dealt with, the hostage spawn is easy. The Trial is complete.

It's my understanding that noone hardly ever does this TF - and it's quick and easy. If we re-did it with focus and knowledgeable, alert leadership, we
could probably knock it out in 20 minutes. The reward drop is a 'class b' recipe, explaining why this isn't more popular.
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies

Which, of course, means the DSL line to Rei is fubard... No EPU till someone can get ahold of Zoner's friend and get that router reset.

Someone tell Gryph?
Hear that thunder rolling till it seems to split the sky?
That's every ship in Grayson's Navy taking up the cry-
NO QUARTER!!!
-- "No Quarter", by Echo's Children