[Tue] 29 Jul 2014 (C&C Stealth SPAAG Kills Again)

How we died (in the future)
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[Tue] 29 Jul 2014 (C&C Stealth SPAAG Kills Again)

Post by audiox »

  • Holy Stones
  • Airport Salient
  • Clear Skies
  • Crateresistance
  • Night Force
Tonight was a pleasant evening for the 27 brave comrades that showed up to play. We had a new coop which was reminiscent of an old A2 classic, but which ended with surprisingly little death for our side. Luckily, Clear Skies followed that up with an invisible SPAAG of death, so that evened it out! :science101:

Holy Stones was chaotic and entertaining, and Crateresistance somewhat marred by a certain comrades AI-like driving skills. Then [REDACTED] led [REDACTED] on a mission whose outcome was [REDACTED]. Much [REDACTED].

As ever, please post your thoughts, feedback, screenshots and video here - comrade YouTube Hero SuperU doesn't just produce our video idents, but provides leadership and guidance to propaganda artists. We also have a YouTube channel that he manages so if you have any content you think should feature then let him know and he will sort you out, for more info check out this thread!; more guidance on video editing for Folk ARPS is provided by comrade Ferrard Carson. Posts in the AAR threads really help us (the hosts and mission makers), both with understanding how we can improve the experiences, and showing potential comrades what our sessions are like.

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Re: [Tue] 29 Jul 2014 (C&C Stealth SPAAG Kills Again)

Post by zitron »

OK so I might have hit a rock after jumping off a wall in a truck at 100kph, but that is what you have to do to be the kart champion of Takistan.

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Re: [Tue] 29 Jul 2014 (C&C Stealth SPAAG Kills Again)

Post by Dawsome »

- Holy Stones:

Missed this mission sadly.

- Airport Salient:

Got to shoot 5 enemies as an AR, went in town to clear buildings. But there was nobody to be found so the town was secured. Mission complete.

- Clear Skies:

After changing some TeamSpeak settings I clicked on my ArmA 3 window to join back in on the conversation and accidentally clicked on "Kick Player Audiox". I nearly started a rebellious movement. Then the mission started.
Sneaking silently through the bushes in the ditch, we managed to move our way up towards the hostile area where an AA vehicle had to be destroyed. FTL Audiox send Konfus and myself to investigate a bridge nearby, all seemed clear. Konfus asked me if it was too quiet and I said I wasn't going to answer that (some people might know why). Still moving through the ditch Audiox mentioned that this might have been the longest time without any hostile contact in any mission he played in ArmA 3. I said that it would change soon. Konfus mentioned that I had jinxed it (I did it again :siiigh: hope Bones doesn't read this). Moments later we took fire from the east side of the ditch and I saw comrade Konfus drop dead right next to me, a terrifying experience.
After crawling around some smoke we took some more fire and FTL Audiox bit the dust. I suddenly was in command of our fireteam and told Insane to fall back, he was looting the binoculars of Audiox's now slowly becoming cold body. Suddenly I heard the enemy AA shoot several times and made a guess of its whereabouts. Since Insane was our fireteam's Anti-Tank soldier I thought we had a chance to complete the mission and avenge our fallen comrades. But it turned out the Anti-Air vehicle was more advanced that we thought, it had a cloaking feature. Mission complete (or failed).

- Crateresistance:

I was assigned the role of squad medic, something new to me. I was excited to help my fellow comrades with my newly acquired medical training. Draakon told me to get out of the car and join Zitron in his truck. We took off towards one of the crates we had to protect. Draakon asked if I wasn't sad that I had to be in the back of the truck, I wasn't. I had a nice view of the ocean and was glad I didn't have to sit in that cramped, smelly cabin in the front. Draakon shouted Zitron had to watch the rocks with such a high speed. Then the inevitable happened. We hit a rock straight on and we quickly jumped out of the truck. I thought I made it but one second later the truck blew up. Good times.

- Night Force:

Saw FTL Audiox die and peeked out to see if I saw the enemy that took his life. A flashlight aimed at me from a window and I was shot in the head.

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Re: [Tue] 29 Jul 2014 (C&C Stealth SPAAG Kills Again)

Post by Universal »

Only one video from me tonight, but it was a fun session. Sadly in Holy Stones I was wearing my hat at a more rakish angle than regulation and was shot dead by my fireteam. I can only apologise for the infraction and arrange for my fine to be paid into the party coffers in monthly instalments.

In Airport Salient I started as MAT, but died almost instantly. I was then able to re-insert as Bravo 2 AAR and, after chasing down my squad, puffing and wheezing like the last kid to get picked in football, I felt like I was able to make a decent contribution. It was a fun mission, we got into challenging situations but thanks to good leadership we always pulled through. Top stuff.

Here is my footage from Clear skies: Bravo 2 vs the mythical invisible SPAAG:

Whats in store for next session? Owlbears!

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Re: [Tue] 29 Jul 2014 (C&C Stealth SPAAG Kills Again)

Post by WrathzRevenge »

The Invisible SPAAG by Issus
"Homer: Wrathz, I order you to find that vehicle, and destroy it with the telekinetic abilities gifted to you by your extreme rage!
Wrathz: I'll try, but we're getting fuckin' destroyed out here!"

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Re: [Tue] 29 Jul 2014 (C&C Stealth SPAAG Kills Again)

Post by Issus »

What follows is the true* story of Clear Skies, written in response to the obviously-doctored footage being posted here by capitalist apologists and Bodgist cronies.
*When I say "true", I mean all of the dialogue is false, along with the depictions of the people involved and the time, location, and events therein. I am very very sorry to everyone mentioned below, especially Homer, Wrathz and Lietuvis. Only the Party can decide what actually happened, and they reserve the right to change the reports, memories, hairstyles and sexual orientations of all involved in order to more closely align with the Truth.

Also: Just a reminder to you all that this is Tigershark Awareness Week. Please be aware of where Tigershark and his appendages are at all times. Thank you.

The SPAAG that was all Invisible-like

By Issus
Age 30(ish)

Once upon a time in the future, there was a glorious kingdom called CSATia. The citizens of CSATia were a proud, confused people, endlessly debating whether they were supposed to be Persian, Chinese, or insect people from the planet Hive-27. Regardless of their heritage, they loved to fight and the symbols of the CSAT military were revered far and wide, from their weird bug-shaped helmets to the mighty Mi-48 Kajman helicopter, which masqueraded as a normal object that was subject to the laws of physics when it was actually an immortal flying beast that ate bullets and souls for breakfast.

And in this glittering kingdom lived a lonely, lonely ZSU-39 Tigris. Although he was just one SPAAG of many in his country, all of the other SPAAGs would refuse to play with him, ignoring his offers of friendship and cookies. Instead, the other SPAAGs preferred to play with their fellow CSAT armoured vehicles, forming convoys for the lulz and massacring poorly-setup FIA ambushes with the maximum of PTSD. Whenever the Loneliest SPAAG would try to join in the fun, all the other vehicles would either drive away or selfishly explode into burning husks. Things were so bad, not even the FIA forces would shoot at him, which was the ultimate insult as the FIA had pretty much no grasp of the concept of fire discipline.

All this made the Loneliest SPAAG sad. One day, after being ignored again by everyone he met, he decided to run away to an olive grove and die. This was a pretty emo thing to do, but when you're a 19-tonne armoured vehicle it's hard to write poetry or find dark clothes that fit you, so you have to take whatever outlet you can.

Unbeknownst to him, at that very moment a force of FIA irregulars were preparing to infiltrate the olive groves, having heard rumours that there was a Tigris in the area that they could shoot at. Their plan was to fire wildly, blow it up, and then run away to the southern beach before the AAF could put their towels on all the sun loungers. The man with this mighty plan was Generalissimo Fer, feared by many of the more inexperienced men under his command. The rest, grizzled veterans all, were also shit-scared of him, but they at least had the intelligence to keep quiet whenever he offered a vacant attack helo position during slotting.

As night fell, Fer calmly advanced up the tallest hill in the area to commence the customary Ritual Sacrifice of the Tigershark, an offering to the Gods of the Party to ensure victory in the oncoming mission. To sacrifice your very own Tigershark, you will need:

1 x Australian deviant
1 x Bush, flammable
1 x RPG-42

(1) Place your Tigershark inside the bush.
(2) Transform your bush into a Holy Burning Bush(tm) by firing your RPG-42 at it at a range of no less than 100m
(3) Repeat step (2) until your Tigershark is of a smooth consistency with no visible lumps
(4) Sit back and enjoy your inevitable victory, comrade!

However, on this one moonlit night, Fer stared into the eyes of his trusty manservant and found he was unable to pull the trigger. Was it compassion that stayed his hand? Or the repeated and insistent threats of blackmail? We will never know (until the upcoming tell-all autobiography, Tigershark: Undressed, hits the bookstore shelves - preorder now!). Instead, Fer trusted in his squad commanders to Get The Job Done. Alpha, show-offs and jocks to a man, were given the easiest job: infiltrate the area by sneaking right by the highest concentration of enemy activity - it's the last place they'll look! Bravo had a slightly tougher challenge; wading through a ditch for several hours until their trench foot-afflicted bodies were so full of tropical diseases and parasites that they could barely see. They would then be launched in primitive catapults towards enemy towns, where they would spread disease and panic.

The BSL was Homercleese, a fine, upstanding gentleman who often refused to accept that he was dead, even in the face of overwhelming evidence. Being a native of Ireland, damp and boggy terrain did not come naturally to him (Ireland being an arid place, populated mostly by camels), but he steeled himself and his team for the challenge. Serving under him were two of the finest FTLs in the whole of the FIA: Lietuvis10, who it was said was often the 2nd sanest man in any given 1 metre radius; and Wrathz, who was famed far and wide for his ability to feel hundreds of emotions at any one time, provided they were all some form of anger. Also with them was Issus, a medic with a reputation for utilising powers of extreme cowardice to ensure his survival at the expense of the mission, his team mates, his honour, and the integrity of his underwear.

Homer: Grand, lads, grand. You are required to manoeuvre straight down this trench and skim the surface to this point. The target area is only two metres wide. It's a small thermal exhaust port to the rear of the SPAAG. Hit it, and I guarantee everything will be grand.
Wrathz: ...sooo, it will all be Grand, then?
Homer (wearily): Yes, Wrathz, it will all be Grand. It will also be Lucky Charms and Blarney Stone. Happy now?
Wrathz: Fuckin' A! Although you forgot "potato".
Lietuvis10 (interrupting): I must not shoot the soufflé! I must not shoot the soufflé!
Homer: Lietuvis... what do you mean by "shoot the soufflé"?
Lietuvis10: I said I must NOT shoot the soufflé. God, Homer, do you not know anything about cookery?!
Universal: I reckon you could shoot a crème brûlée. It has that crispy bit on top.
Pickers: True! Although you might need to use an armour-piercing round, depending on the thickness of the crust...

Bravo took this opportunity to have a breather for a few seconds and continue discussing the correct calibre of bullet to use in the kitchen. Seconds became minutes and Alpha became dead. Freed from the prospect of another squad stealing all the glory, Bravo pushed onwards into the reeds.

At this moment, the Loneliest SPAAG was weeping in a stand of trees just to their south. Oh woe, he said bitterly, I can't even be free here. Just over that field, my comrades are busy having fun slaughtering the hapless chumps of Alpha squad. And here I am, awaiting death and covered in olives. But wait, what's that approaching from the north?! The Loneliest SPAAG peered through the branches and spotted Lietuvis, giving Bravo 2 the full benefit of his many years of wisdom and experience.

Lietuvis10: The bees! The bees! Buggrit, millennium hand and shrimp!

This is my chance, thought the Loneliest SPAAG. If I fire at these guys, they'll be sure to RPG me, thus ending my miserable existence! A bowel-shaking rumble and flash signified Lietuvis' bid to be the first Altis citizen to achieve orbit. As he sailed out of view, the remaining members of Bravo scrambled to try and find the source of the fire.

Homer: Wrathz, I order you to find that vehicle, and destroy it with the telekinetic abilities gifted to you by your extreme rage!
Wrathz: I'll try, but we're getting fuckin' destroyed out here!
Universal: The remains of Bravo 2 are proceeding to point GTFO.
Homer: Copy that. Issus, I appear to have more holes in me than normal. I want you to sew up any orifice you can find. Don't bother to try to work out which ones are natural or not -- we'll close them all up and let god sort them out later.
Issus: Um.
Homer: Excellent, I will now stand up and intimidate the enemy by sheer force of my manliness.
*Homer turns into jam*
*Issus demonstrates his special ability to pee in even the most stressful of circumstances*

While all this was happening, the Loneliest SPAAG was getting more and more frustrated. Why aren't they shooting back, he cried, why aren't they exploderising me?! Am I that unworthy? It was at that moment that the SPAAG looked down to see a lone figure crawling towards him, underneath him! Surely this must be a sabotage attempt? Surely this must be the end! And then, a trembling voice from below:

Issus: Where is the SPAAG? I can't see it?

It suddenly dawned upon the SPAAG. This was the reason why they weren't firing back. This was the reason why he didn't have any friends. This was the reason why he was always ignored.


It was the greatest feeling he had ever known! He wasn't the worst Tigris in the CSAT army, he was the most powerful! Happiness surged through his gears as he spun around, sending HE rounds into tree after tree after tree. He had never felt so alive! And yet...

He looked down. The little medic was still there, underneath him. Sobbing. Although he had never seen this man before, he felt he knew him already. He knew those tear-stained cheeks. He knew those terrified, pathetic eyes and that friendless face. He even empathised with his rapidly-dampening underthings. This man was lonely, thought the SPAAG, so I shall be his FRIEND.

The Holy Ghost of Audiox was watching this, and his heart was gladdened by the scene. Declaring the Loneliest SPAAG to be "just like something out of C&C" (the highest praise possible), we made his way to the Great Console in the Sky and made sure this happy ending remained happy, by immediately ending the world and making sure the last thing anyone saw was "FIA DEFEAT" in big letters carved into their eyeballs.


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Re: [Tue] 29 Jul 2014 (C&C Stealth SPAAG Kills Again)

Post by fer »

Comrade Issus, for your remarkable services to the Party's Ministry of Truth, I salute you. Also, it was blackmail. It always is with Tigershark.

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Re: [Tue] 29 Jul 2014 (C&C Stealth SPAAG Kills Again)

Post by Tigershark »

Oh Issus....how can something so wrong.....feel so right?

I can never stay mad at you....come here and get a hug.
Sticking feathers up your ass does not make you a chicken.

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Re: [Tue] 29 Jul 2014 (C&C Stealth SPAAG Kills Again)

Post by Mamuto »

Where can I get my hands on Tigershark: Undressed?

Holy Stones
Southfor Medic
I ran around, killed some civilians enemies, and healed Homer. IFF was a bitch this mission.

Airport Salient
Bravo 2 FTL
By far my best FTL performance to date. Managed to not lose a single member of the fireteam, even though at one point we were beset by bad guys from all sides. Bravo 1, sadly, lost a few guys, one casualty we could have prevented if we were in a better position to cover them. Well, lesson learned. Also, we didn't really feel like part of the mission, with Alpha doing its thing, and us doing ours. Isn't the point of a platoon to work together? :colbert:

Clear Skies
Alpha 2 FTL
We walked and walked and walked, got ambushed, managed to not all die horrible deaths, and then the stealth tanks showed up. "Tanks," I hear you say, "but comrade, there was only one!" Sure there was. That's what the party wants you to think. *shudder*

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Re: [Tue] 29 Jul 2014 (C&C Stealth SPAAG Kills Again)

Post by Dan »

Ready for Labour and Defence of The Party

Holy Stones

Fireteam lead SOUTHFOR

To arms comrades! The honour of dear leader comrade Aziz must be satisfied! We march on the town's market, that den of insalubrious Capitalism that infests the very heart of our glorious society. I hope you have been enjoying your party-mandated fitness regime!

It turned out this would be something of a trend-setter for this session. Running. So much running. After getting quite a stitch moving into our initial AO, we decided to claim one of the local communal housing constructs and enjoy the fruits of our collective labour, whilst conveniently placing ourselves to watch the brainwashed proletariat fulfil the endless compulsion to consume. An agitator was soon spotted upon the roof of a nearby Party Headquarters and was quickly dispatched by a compact explosive device from my under-slung launcher. I suppose the science-gul... vacation retreats must be of some worth after all. It later transpired that this agitator was no less than the notorious bodgist demagogue known commonly as Azoz. A brief fire-fight ensued, during which many assailants were slain and those of improper bearing were suitably chastised for failing to meet dress-regulations. In a brief homage to the dear leader, I received a bullet in the face. Clearly I am lacking his glory as, rather than achieving secular enlightenment and a sound understanding of the more esoteric aspects of Marxist Agrarianism, I was returned to the great console in the sky from which we are all created. Nevertheless, the market was clear and we were able to fend off the corrupting tendrils of Consumerist filth for another day. Glory to the Party!

Airport Salient

Bravo Squad Lead

Awakening once more from the cold grips of death, I was unceremoniously promoted to the rank of squad leader for my brave actions in the previous encounter. Not quite knowing how to deal with this great burden, and unwilling to go against the fine teachings of Juche self-reliance, I resolved myself to treat this squad as a compact fireteam. Once again, however, our failure to attend regular meetings of the mandated fitness regime, and the fondness for doughnuts to be found among the rank-and-file filled glorious commissar Tigershark with a righteous urge. He would purge the unfit and send us on a punishing combat march. We were to be deprived of our assigned glory rations and remunerated with reeds and mud. A multi-Kilometre run through a drainage ditch was deemed sufficient. Loath to accept this shame, I was determined to maintain harsh discipline within this loathsome group of layabouts. We would march in full combat order and maintain tight formation throughout! As decreed by glorious commissar, little glory was to be had for much of this exercise. A brief debate with a handful of country yokels rapidly turned sour as they expressed their dissatisfaction with the latest potato rations. Such counter-revolutionary statements were intolerable to the men and combat commenced. Taking shelter in an inexplicably empty kolkhozy, we were assailed from multiple angles. With the promise of support quickly quashed, we placed our faith in the Party and were able to come through largely unscathed. Once the insurgent's fire eased off, we were able to commence squad level bounding to begin clearing the immediate area.

No further casualties were taken. Glory to the Party!

Clear Skies

AT Rifleman

Filled with self-contempt for overstepping my bounds and achieving more than the mandated level of glory in the previous exercise, I briefly skipped out to stuff my face with sweet, delicious potato. In punishment for this further transgression, the whole section was subject to an ordeal the likes of which we had just seen previously. This time in the dark. Dripping in mud, trembling from the pain of trench-foot, we were assailed by a demon from the past ages. Sagas of heroism were written. Legends were made.

The tale of The Lonely SPAAG was born.


Glorious Commissar

This was to be a brief exercise in the superiority of Marxist combat theory. As one group, we descended from the skies like carrion birds come to nibble at the toe of an already fallen foe. Comrade Pickers, due to a note from his mother, was unable to attend this drop and so was left to drive to the designated zone of combat by himself. Fears of impending infidelity were quickly proven to be misplaced as, in what party officials have deemed to be an act realized solely through love of the dear leader, the first cache was quickly destroyed by this lone ranger. Spurred on by this quick success, the rest of the carrion feeders were able to quickly overwhelm the defences of the second cache in a mass charge and bring cleansing flames to bear upon it's foul contents.

Glory to the party!


Collective farmer

Comrades! <redacted> have <redacted> in <redacted>. We must show them the might of the party! Glorious commissar <redacted> ordered a three prong sweep to secure <redacted> and bring <redacted> to justice. In the darkness, we marched. Quickly sweeping through <redacted> the furore of righteous socialism was unleashed. Moving from building to building <redacted> were <redacted> in large numbers. This comrade was found on a balcony, his head blown asunder by <redacted> <redacted>.


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