Bizmarks # 3 – Varzin

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A quick addition to this basic “Prussian” Van Saar gang. I kept with the black/blue suit and tried to give the rifle a more credible, less shiny, finish. I used less highlights on the base, so that it looks less battered and the black asphalt comes through a little nicer.

I’m taking this gang as a preparation for a neater “Infinity” style and I still have a long way to go, but I’m still pretty satisfied.

 

 

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The Bizmarks #2 – von Caprivi

von Caprivi 1

This was made in one sitting, when the heat made me take an afternoon off writing. I attempted to update the colour scheme for the van saar suit using blue highlights and I had a go at a proper urban base.

The name comes from Bismark’s successor to the post of Chancellor, Leo von Caprivi – a name wacky enough to fit the hive’s sense of humour. Game-wise, he’s a cheap little juve with a mace, there to double team some opponent in close combat and provide those extra strength four attacks.

I still find the suit difficult to paint effectively, but I enjoyed this three/four layers attempt with game color cold grey, night blue and citadel abbadon black and I’m happy with the results. Unfortunately, the picture picks up the blues a little too much – they’re not that visible on the actual miniature.

The eyes are so small, that I couldn’t manage to put a black dot on them without ruining the face after three attempts. Damn them eyes! I’ll try again when I’m more inspired.

For the base I used a fragment of cement from a collection I scraped off a bucket. I painted the part that stuck to the bucket’s surface like battered asphalt concrete, and the rest with cold grey adding some light brown stains and some grey and black shadows. Then I added a few smaller fragments and dust onto the base surface. The pipe was made with two bits of plastic wire. The yellow marks are a necromundan must.

Redemptionist devotee Markus

Devotee 1Merry Christmas, I guess. What better than a Christian fundamentalist space gothic Klan member to remind us of the joys of intolerance, religion, and gun ownership?

To offset, partially, the depressing vibes I get from this miniaturised icon of violence and oppression I felt I had to watch this again. Though unfortunately it seems games workshop was able to provide them with more functional masks…

Anyway, as they say, you need the worst villains for the best stories. In fact, I am probably going to expand my collection of redemptionists in the future, drawing from different miniature ranges. So far, it includes just five models, all from the classic gw range. Apart from one, wielding a sword and hand flamer and carrying a book, who will end up as a the recruitment deacon, the rest are going to be painted as devotees. Their green robes, as opposed to the white ones of crusaders and priests, signify that while still being affiliated to the redemption they are not yet proven members of the cult.

Painting-wise, I shaded the red stole with blue and purple – it’s not very evident in the picture but it’s there; and I gave a try to non-metallic metal on the guns. Did it work? Any suggestions for the base?

Game-wise, I’m not a fan of double pistols and I’d rather play him with just an autopistol and a knife. Apart from the fact that they tend to look ridiculous, what’s the point of an extra stub gun if you can’t take any dumdum bullets? But, then again, can you seriously expect any sense from a fanatic and a vigilante?

The Bizmarks – leader and shotgun ganger

Bizmarks1 Bizmarks2This is as much a restoration work as a painting project, since these two models were already partially, and rather poorly, painted. I cleaned the old paint away, got them a new black base coat and then tried to overcome the loss of detail that had nevertheless taken place – and that is still evident on the front of the shotgun. In general, you can see that the back side is neater than the front, where most of the damage was located.

I came up with the Bizmarks after I realised that I had enough Van Saar models left for a gang after those I needed for my (forthcoming) Union project – union as in trade union, by the way. The Biz will stand nicely as the authoritarian paramilitary group siding with the enforcers against organised promethium plant workers, subaltern scavvy mutants, and the Redemptionist zealots of a pal of mine in a campaign that we’ll hopefully play next summer.

Jons – Scavvy Ganger

Jons 1 Jons 2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Scabies and scavenging: scavvies. It’s not that bad. You only have an obligation to your stomach, and you can live as long as you can keep your eyes peeled and your gun loaded. I can tell you, it’s pointless to keep it a secret now that I’d be executed anyway. For all I did, as well as for all I didn’t do but still have the looks like I did: I chose to come here. Here in this dump with nothing but were-rats and skin disease and a bunch of cannibals to keep company. I came here to stay out of the military. And, man, I don’t regret it a bit. I knew I was going to be drafted. From a relative of mine who was some kind of bureaucrat for the Guard. They were going to get me, ship me a crap-ton light years through the warp to some rock on the fringe of the universe, holding a stick-gun against the resident horror-with-no-name. “There is only war”… the hell there is! If I didn’t die on first assignment, then it was going to be nothing but drill and bootlicking until my next chance to die. Screw that! I’d rather be rotting inside and out like I am here, but at least do it in my own name. And that is all I have to say.”

Catch – Scavvy Ganger

Catch 1Catch 2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I cannot help to imagine all kinds of substances filtering trough my flesh, being sucked in and condensing in my lungs, caught in the blood stream and pumped around, solidifying in nasty cancers in my entrails”.

Being a mutant means to be constantly aware of your own body. Every morning is another rash, a new suppurating orifice, the calling of an unexpected pain, or another lump of flesh going numb.

“Once I saw someone scratch one of his arms to the bone, humming. There was no blood but a white opalescent fluid gushing out like foam. He kept reopening the wound, digging into its lips with a little knife.”

You tend to acknowledge new mutations in the morning. Maybe the metabolism of the toxins speeds up while your body is sleeping, maybe it’s just that you drop out of consciousness for long enough to look at yourself like a stranger. Some think that you will stop mutating if you never close your eyes.

You never dream. Substances and viruses take up your imagination, turning your very flesh into some unconscious, permeable, stuff.

“I found you can get away with some of the pain by focussing on it as a pulse – if you feel it like breathing it blends in and almost disappears. Itching can be turned into pain, and then into rhythm. Speaking and thinking are done fast in between the beats. When the pain’s too intense there’s nothing you can do, though. It just defines you: you can only speak for it and wear its face. You become a vessel, a herald, a laboratory display: your very acts become a mindless expression of whatever that is that’s working up your guts.”

There is a certain pride in the amount of suffering a body can withstand. From without, you just see the torn skin, the broken motions and the expressions of self-disgust. You can breath in the stink and be hit by death in its purposeful, creative presence. But from within is a symphony of terrors. That hunger never leaves you.

“But sometimes I have a surge of strength – my body suddenly feels well and whole. And at that point, over that hallucinating sensation of solidity, settles rage. I am consumed by the need of tearing into other people, leaving them infected.”

Some mutants convert to a weird religion of the flesh. They believe that, somewhere in the sewers, there is a creature made of all the parts of their bodies that they’ve lost, all the blood and pus that they’ve spilled, the skin they have removed. It awaits for them somewhere in the shadow. If you ever meet its hollow eyes, they believe, then you will die. But your mind will remain trapped in the air and consumed by parasites and you will feel the whole universe collapse. These believers sometimes carve their eyes out, so that the golem will have eyes and see them and die in their place.

And yes, Catch plays baseball.

Redemption Harry – Scavvy Ganger

Redemption Harry 1 Redemption Harry 2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I have little to say about myself. But I can tell you about a thing I’ve seen. I am sure you’ve seen death yourself, and had your share of wounds and bruises. Everyone has around here. But I’ve seen a kid burn at the stake, once. I cannot describe it. A whole mob was staring and cheering. They thought the boy was possessed by demons. I sure wished a demon was really going to come out of that poor fellow’s mouth and let its wrath loose on the congregation. But the boy just screamed. Nothing happened. He screamed, and then he fell silent and his body was consumed by the flames. Am I going to live another thirty years, I will never be able to put a bullet through the head of everyone’s responsible for that. From the high minds to the people who were fooled and killed while clapping their hands. But I still feel I’ve been charged with his vengeance. It’s like it’s here in my chest. So I ended up saying something about me, I guess. Look, I’ve carved an “r” on each of these shotgun shells, for redemption. For that’s how the people who did that called themselves, and, by the time I’ll be finished with them, I swear to the hells that’s what they’re going to get!”