Greetings fellow wargamers, or I guess that these days, while I maintain my place among the illustrious Sprue Cutters Union (#spruecutters), it should probably be 'fellow hobbyists'!
Here (and as is plain from the post title), is my fourth offering to the sprue god, and as usual, the Lord High Sprue Cutter has come up trumps. As an aside before I tread the path of doom and destruction, if you might like to become a membernof the Sprue Cutters Union, check the details out here.
Now, despite the endless hours of excitement, engagement and rarely rivalled goodness that can come with this hobby, there can also come to pass moments of pain and anguish. A paint job can end up looking like the model was dunked and left to dry over night; pieces of models can come warped and despite sustained effort with hot and cold water, Vlad von Carstein's Sword of Unholy Power will always be a little bit 'kinky', or perhaps, maybe worst of all, is the terror that is the 'outside influence', which has seem entire armies wiped out in an instant.
This week's topic is 'What is the worst experience you've had with this hobby?', or, as I like to call it 'Daemon Princes can't fly, even if they have wings'.
My horrendous (well, horrendous in modelling terms. It's not like anybody died) experience centres around a converted Daemon Prince model I built and painted a couple of years or so ago. I had made the decision to start an online 'Work In Progress' (WIP) thread on the Astronomican Wargaming Community forum. It was the first time I had ever put pictures of my miniature modelling and painting projects online, and as you would expect, I experienced a degree of apprehension at the prospect of my efforts being laid bare for my peers to critique.
I needn't have been concerned. The Astronomican bunch are a friendly lot and full of positive comments or useful and constructive advice, as well as being great modellers and painters themselves. I posted the step by step progression of my build, taking my time and paying careful attention to feedback as I steadily constructed the model, converted bespoke parts, pinned pieces in place, sculpted over joins, and eventually painted the model and dressed the base.
I was chuffed, it must be said, and although the abundance of deep purple that I used for the skin of my Daemon Prince wasn't to everyone's taste, I got great feedback. The community liked the model, I liked the model, I was proud of what I had achieved. All was well with the world.
Once upon a time, on the top of a writing bureau, and well out of the way of grasping little hands, there rested a Daemon Prince of Slaanesh, beloved of the Dark Prince and scourge of mortal men. From his lofty perch, the Daemon Prince did survey the comings and goings of the mortal world below. Then, one fateful day, a colossal feline felon of unfathomed fiendishness did spy the plateau on which the Daemon Prince stood.
Low, the Daemon was a greedy soul and left naught room for another to share his privileged place in the heavens, but the dosy feline cared not for the laws of physics or spacial displacement, and, heedless of the dangers, leapt up towards the top of the writing bureau.
Alas! There was indeed no room upon the platform for the feline to land, though this was plain to all but the stupid cat, and down the front of the bureau did she plummet, but not before the Daemon Prince was struck a glancing blow by a feline toe!
Woe of woes! The proud Daemon Prince did topple and fall, nay, plunge, nay, PLUMMET down from the top of the writing bureau and into the abyss. Down and down and still further down he fell, until at last he struck the laminate floor with the force of a twin tailed comet, and was dashed into his multitudinous constituent parts.
Needless to say, I was rather vexed by this event, so much so that, where I might typically rage and shout at the cat and bowl it out of the room like I'm playing nine-pins, I simply did nothing. I think I must have been in shock, as I calmly got down on my hands and knees and started collecting up the bits of my prized conversion. Even more frustrating was that a piece of his sword, which I had painstakingly constructed from multiple other weapons, was nowhere to be found, despite moving the furniture around.
I simply piled the pieces I could find back onto the top of the bureau in a heap. Where usually I would be breaking out the files and superglue and initiating emergency repair protocols, I couldn't even look at it, especially with a piece still unaccounted for. And there the pile of pieces sat until, a few days later I managed to find the final piece, and set about assessing the damage and putting the model back together. I should say that, despite some scrapes and chips and a couple of unsightly bent pieces, the individual components had survived unbroken, and just needed a bit of a clean up before being re-assembled.
Even now, I haven't got as far as doing all the touch up paintwork required to really get the model close to what it was, but I feel like it'll never be quite as good as it was when I first completed it. Below are a number of pictures taken as part of the original build, to give you an idea of how much work went into the model. One day, he will get the attention he deserves. Soon, when I focus my efforts on my Warriors of Chaos. Soon.
Thanks for reading.