Bonus survivor- Jacques

Well, I am now solidly back into the groove of painting survivors. So, as a me culpa for missing three weeks, I am planning to make it up to you all by posting not one, but TWO completed survivors!

... during the course of the research into how people managed to survive the outbreak, it became clear that they did it by any means necessary. This included gaining proficiency in all manner of weapons, but also by utilizing a wide variety of defensive strategies. Reports of military grade body armour, police issue stab proof vests, sporting equipment and thick clothing such as leather were common. Less common were medieval suits of armour, shark suits and even one report of a diving apparatus...

This bonus survivor comes from Reaper Miniatures, and was a bit of an odd idea that I had! Basically I saw the miniature on the shelf and thought that it would be a pretty funny "armoured" figure, all I had to do was give him a weapon! The M16 comes from the Wargames Factory survivor kit, no more conversion needed than simply gluing it into his hand!

I am pretty happy with how it has come out, certainly one of the more oddball survivors I have completed so far!

Back Friday for another offering from the Wargames Factory kits....

Chris

Survivor- Logan

Surely not- another survivor? Two weeks in a row? Craziness!

... the door exploded with a crash.

In walked a figure in his leather jacket, a massive cleaver in his hand, pistol at his hip. He stopped beside a piece of burning doorframe to light his cigar, carefully starting the light, tenderly growing the flame, savouring the taste of the smoke as he inhaled.

"Did you have to destroy that?" spoke the voice from behind him. A small, bookish man stepped out from behind Logan.

Logan shrugged.

"Typical" was all the lab coated man could say..

A noise caused the two to turn and look outside. The horde of shamblers was hot on their tail.

Logan pulled his pistol and fired a few shots into the mob before ducking back inside.

Logan took the lead, machete raised, pistol blazing as he cut his way further into the facility, the doctor following close behind him, always trying to match him step for step.

It was when Logan was reloading that he heard the scream, and he realised the doctor wasn't behind him in this latest room. He had fallen behind.

Logan cut down the zombie ahead of him, and turned around, heading to the sound. He arrived just in time to see the doctor torn in two by the shamblers.

Logan cut them down, severing each and every one of their skulls with fell blows from his cleaver.

The last act he did before leaving was to put a bullet in the good doctor, the brainiac didn't deserve to go out like that....

Logan is another from Reaper, except that I replaced the rock which he was standing on with a Zombie from the Wargames factory set. To make it fit on the base, I only used half the zed, making some entrails out of a greenstuff sausage. Once I had decided to put him standing over a zed, it was simple enough to pose him to be giving "mercy" to a zombie with his pistol.

Inspiration for the jacket colour, and the name are pretty obviously from Wolverine, a head chewing a cigar was just too perfect you know?

The story was a bit shorter than I wanted, but I have only just got back home from a 3 day course, haven't got much spare brain power for story writing!

Next week's survivor currently looks like this:

Little bit of work to be done!

C

Survivor- Hugh

Ok- So this time we are back, and with a vengeance!

This story follows on from last weeks...

... I ran to the back door. My daughter cried as I wrenched her arm, trying to get her out of there as fast as possible. I reached the back room, slamming the door behind me, wedging a chain under the door knob.

I reached where the back door should have been.

But there wasn't one.

Only a wall.

No way out.

I grabbed her, pulled her close, and huddled in the corner. She was crying.

So was I.

The door knob began to turn, slowly, then more vigorously. Then with a crash, an elbow burst through the door. He was taunting me then, laughing.

An arm reached through the hole in the door, fumbling for the knob.

I took my opportunity, grabbing the largest and sharpest of the wood splinters I drove it into the hand reaching through.

He screamed, the hand withdrew in shock. But only for the gap to be replaced by the black, red and white of the snake

The taunts continued, the snake slivered closer and the hand reached through and opened the door. The snake and the man crept closer. Blood dripped from his wounded hand, he stopped to lick it up, a wicked smile on his face.

Behind him, a figure appeared, big guy in a faded brown jacket.

He spoke in a gravelly voice, like someone out of an 80's TV show. "You all got any food"

The snake-man turned and said "This food is mine..".

With that, he drew a knife from his waistcoat and lunged at the big man.

I remember how loud that shot was, a sound that I am sure still deafens me to this day. The big man stood there, arm outstretched, a doublebarrelled shotgun in his hands. The snake man lay dead on the floor, his snake scurrying out of the room, never to be seen again.

The big man lowered his weapon, it's barrels still smooking, the stench of burnt gunpowder in the air.

He simply said "they ain't food"

Well, another survivor done! Hugh comes from the Reaper range, this is the Bones incarnation of him. I have been uninspired by the Bones range so far, the plastic-stuff it is made from I find dislikes being painted, and is quite soft and on occasion lacks detail.

Now, in saying all of that- I found none of those things with Hugh. Casting was crisp, it wasn't a soft plastic and after I gave it a good scrub in warm water with dishwashing liquid to clean off any oily residue from the mould release, Hugh took paint very well. I was so impressed, that I would be more than happy to order more!

The paint job is pretty standard, but another one done. Am I back on the painting horse?

Anything is possible :)

Here is next weeks!

CP

Survivor- Django

AND WE ARE BACK!

".. so we were moving out of New Orleans, into the swamps when we came across him. Our group had been panicked, fleeing the city when the Z's arrived off the docks. It sounds stupid now, but we had no supplies. It was just us, that was all we had. We were totally unprepared. It was raining, so we had no raincoats. It was bitterly cold, and we only had these stupid light sweaters. The type of thing that looks oh so fashionable on the mannequin in the store but does nothing for you in terms of staying warm. The plan was to take our daughter and meet my husband in Little Rock, where he was on business. I had begged him not to go, but he told me the world kept on turning, the mortgage still had to be paid, even with the flu going around (Author's Note: In the early stages, the outbreak of the Z virus was put down to a variation of the flu, ebola, HIV, AIDs or any number of other diseases in an attempt to keep the population from widespread panic. Scholars now debate as to the effectiveness of this policy)

We had left the car miles and miles ago, we had been wandering in the rain for what felt like an age. She was six then, old enough to walk, too big to be carried.

When we came across a cabin, it was too good to be true. We ran as fast as we could to the door, yelling and banging on the door to let us in, seeking any respite from the rain. He opened the door, the warmth of the fire in his cabin spilling over us as he opened it, radiating through us, making us feel something close to being alive again. Simply put, he was a godsend. He wore a blue suit, fancy hat. He had a soft voice, which you just had to listen to, it entranced you, every word hanging in the air.

He offered a promise of food? Of shelter?

Who could say no to that?

He ushered us inside, and as we walked in, transfixed by the fire.

I heard the door bolt shut.

He turned, a smile on his face as a snake emerged from his shirt sleeve. It's red, black and white striped body emerged slowly, tongue tasting the air.

Throat too dry to cry out, I grabbed her and headed straight for the back door...

Dangit- I was late again! But, I am back on the horse.

Django is the first survivor I have done since my little hiatus. I do apologise for that, but moving in to our new house (which we own!) took precedence, and really did put a dampner on my painting drive.

Django comes from the Reaper range, and his choice of suit colour is very obviously based of another Django! The snake is a coral snake, mainly because the colours contrasted so well to the blue suit!

Add to that they are highly venomous...

Anywho, a return to form of sorts? Well, hopefully. I missed the deadline by a few days, and he hasn't been based (I have no idea what box my basing stuff is in!) But, back on the horse I hope- this is next weeks survivor....

Chris

Survivor week 14: Maya!

After Police Month we are back to our regularly scheduled program....

... Look, I never saw her, but I knew this guy who got his ass pulled out of the fire by her....

His story went that he was somewhere near the Little Creek Naval Base. He thought that military bases would be safe- hell we all did! Thinking about it now, it was a dumb thought. Military bases have aid stations. Soldiers get bit, get taken to the aid station. Doesn't matter how many guns you have up on the walls if the infection is inside.

By the time he got to Little Creek, the place was burning and the last ship had sailed.

No food makes you more than a little crazy, so he decides to go in. Finds a few zees, whacks them with this priceless signed by Babe Ruth bat that he had stolen from the Yankees Hall of Fame, guy wouldn't shut up about how badass he was stealing it- man I wanted to punch him just for that. Everyone knows hockey is a better sport. He probably picked the bat up off the ground as he ran away anyway.

So he is moving in to Little Creek, trying to find a building not on fire so he can start looting. Except whoever torched the place did a damn good job- there wasn't anything not burning.

Now this guy gets a bit bold, he heads into one of the big storage warehouses which looked to be only burning at one end. He said it was untouched, canned goods, guns and ammo, tanks and Humvees. I think he was full of it, but I guess it made the story better.

So he is loading up his winnings, when the Zees catch up with him. They crowd around the door, bashing at it trying to get in. So he has zombies on one side, burning storeroom on the other. He makes a choice- at least you can shoot a Zombie, you can't fight a big burning factory.

He prepares himself, loads up one of those rifles he just found and rushes out of the door yelling at the top of his lungs, finger pressed on the trigger of the M16. But no bullets came out of the gun. Nothing happened.

I didn't want to tell the guy, but the firing pins were probably taken out to make sure the crates were made safe, don't want some loony getting a M16A4 and going postal.

So the guy starts beating on the Zoms with the but of the weapon. He said it broke in half after a couple of Z skulls, but I know you can crack more than a few with one of these (he gently pats the worn, formerly desert camouflaged M4 assault rifle next to him).

Out of options, and left with just his priceless Babe Ruth bat to save him against this horde of zombies.

This is where his story hit the next level of unbelievable. He said that this hooded figure came up, two pistols in hand and started plowing through the zombie horde.

Bam, zombie gone.

Bam Bam, two zombies gone.

Then the hooded figure reloaded and continued firing.

All the Zombie gone, the hooded figure comes over to this guy and just says "give me what you got out of that warehouse"

Guy disagrees, and he gets pistol whipped for disagreeing.

He wakes up the next day, big cut on his head surrounded by a burnt out naval base and the bodies of a whole lotta zombies. Anything useful had already been taken by the hooded survivor.

It took another glass of moonshine for him to admit that the hooded figure was a she, guess he was embarrassed about getting his ass handed to him by a girl- although I think that was a close second once he realized that she had taken his pants and run them up the flagpole.

Guess she had a sense of humour too....

This week's figure comes from the Reaper range, and when I got her originally, she looked like this:

I really liked the pose, the two guns the big flowing hood and so I bought the figure. And then I looked at the figure once I got it home, and she was wearing.... well... not a lot. I have spoken before that I like my zombie survivors to be practical, so out came the greenstuff and off sculpting I went, ending up with this:

Pants, singlet and holsters for the pistols. Not the greatest sculpting you will ever see, but a multitude of sins are covered by painting!

In terms of the paint job, I had it stuck in my head that she would have this big red hooded cloak. Then to add some interest to the figure, I painted the pants in a version of the US Navy camo (I had been watching The Last Ship while doing the sculpting!). Of note is that she is my first survivor of colour- and let's be fair that is because of the Walking Dead's Michonne! There are more on the way too.

Anyway, that is it for this week, painting continues. I am almost finished doing some weathering on my police car, and work is ongoing into expanding the horde even further.... Oh and planning the next theme month!

Chris

Third Survivor- Felicity Updated!

As so very accurately pointed out by Vampifan, I had neglected one part of Felicity! Turns out that thing on her foot is not part of her ripped pants, but it is instead a severed Zombie hand!

Now, after he pointed it out it was so glaringly obvious that I couldn't bring myself to ignore it.

And so, a repaint was in order:

Much better!

More Zeds on the paint table this week.

Chris

Third Survivor- Felicity

It's Friday (for me at least), so here is the third survivor of my Zed Apocalypse, Felicity!

Felicity had always been an average kid, growing up in a small town. Typical tom-boy, she was far more at home tinkering with her dad than she was playing with dolls. Working a dead end job at the local sporting goods store wasn't much, but it sure beat being at home with no money.

That was, till the Zees came along.

Felicity hid under the counter as her dad and some other men from the town ran into the store, knocking over the displays, rushing straight to the back section of the store to collect all the guns and ammo they could carry. She stayed hiding as she heard a low moan echo across the store, followed by shots and screams of terror.

She willed herself to poke her head around the corner of the counter, only to watch as her father was brought to the ground and torn apart by what used to be her teacher, her sister and her boss. She couldn't stop herself from sobbing at the sight.

One of the zombies heard the sound and turned to her. While the others were distracted, feasting on what was once her father, her former teacher stood up, blood staining the hideous beige cardigan that her teacher had always worn. The zombie moved towards Felicity, eyes dull and lifeless, mouth snapping open and closed.

Felicity looked around, for something, anything that would get her out of this situation. Her eyes rested on the bright orange Stihl chaninsaw. Now all she would need was some gas.....

Felicity comes from Reaper Miniatures' Chronoscope range. She has sat in the lead pile for far too long, so it was nice to get her fully painted. I have to say I do love the figure, the pose is nice and the chainsaw suitably dramatic looking! As to how effective it would be in combat, well...

Her name came about because I asked my wife what she should be called (and she says modeling time isn't quality time together), along with the key parts of her back story.

In case you are wondering, yes, the bases still connect...

And this is the group of survivors so far...

Anyway, more Zeds and Survivors to paint and more terrain to make!

Chris