I suppose many things might be unexpectedly concealed deep
in O’Grady’s Gulch, and it might not be polite to enquire about the possibilities
too fully. On this occasion, as dusk creeps over our shoulders like a grey cloak, we’re surprised to come across a building. I don’t
know how we missed it when we came through here before. An actual building! I
didn’t realise the inhabitants of this island believed in buildings. After all,
the Lord of the island lives in a cave – and a rather retro cave, at that. We
were beginning to believe that no-one had yet evolved the roof-building gene.
And not only have we found a building, it’s a diner, in the middle of nowhere. What the deuce?
A
diner! The absolute height of luxury – doner kebab, hot approximations to dogs,
banana-leaf burgers, and full-cholesterol breakfasts complete with blackened
scraps of bread that some might generously refer to as “toast”.
If only we had some cash….
Maybe my sergeant could clear tables or wash dishes?
“I’m not sure about this place,” he says.
“Nonsense! It looks clean and quiet. What could be wrong
with it?”
“Too quiet, if you ask me. I can’t hear a single sound or
see anyone, or anything,
moving. Moreover, sir, I’m not a particularly superstitious
man, but look at the colours. Red. Black. What does that suggest to you? Sir?”
“You’re being silly, Sergeant. There’s nothing sinister
about red and black. And the vampire that chased us a few days ago was in a
completely different part of the island. And quite obviously the reason there’s
no sound is because they’re short of staff. As that notice in the window makes
clear.”
I point to the notice advertising jobs.
“So,” I continue, “stop being so standoffish, get in there
and earn us enough for a couple of burgers. Each.”
Carefully, cautiously my sergeant crosses the sidewalk, pushing
the door open with the barrel of his gun, and steps inside. The door swings shut. There’s
absolute silence in the shadowy interior. To pass the time, I read the job advert on the door:
“New blood needed. Why not stick your neck out and apply within?”
---
I couldn’t find any vignette I should be painting for a
friend, so I settled for a piece of terrain instead. This diner is made by Warbases. My friend wants it for
the Fallout setting, but perhaps also Future Wars, and maybe zombie
games, too. In general I like models such as this to look pristine, “toy”, I
suppose, rather than “realistic” just like I generally prefer troops in full
dress to campaign dress. So although the diner is intended essentially for games after the world
has been consumed in apocalyptinastiness
of some kind or other, I’ve painted it as a neat and tidy 50s-ish diner. John,
whose model it is, may decide he’d like it weathered somewhat – which would be
fine – but I rather like it like this. Perhaps he’ll use it as the centre piece
for some Pulp Fiction, instead.
I think the photographs don’t do it justice, in the sense
that it looks rather better here than in reality! The floor which looks pretty even,
and the script that looks so well defined actually have a little more shakiness
in their lines than the photos show. Even so, I’m pleased with the end result.
The
model was completely assembled before painting, which turns out to be an error
in this case, as it was almost impossible to paint that enclosed space of the
foyer. I designed a double deuce motif on paper to decorate the foyer instead, though I’ve not sized
it correctly, so some remedial work will be needed.
The Double Deuce sign over the door is painted with neon
colours, which I wasn’t too pleased with, as they don’t cover very well, requiring
several applications, and you can see that the colour on the dice is rather
uneven, even though undercoated white.
The sign and borders on the rear wall were simply
painted with a very small brush and Army Painter colours, which cover well. I thought about using pens for this, but they don't draw too well on the paint surface.
Frankly,
I’m surprised how clean a job I was able to make of all these elements, as both
eyesight and brush control are a bit of a problem these days.
As for scoring – the model itself is 10” x 7” x 3” = 210 cu ins, excluding the
elevated sign and the external pavement. Using these extremities would give 9 x 12 x 6, or 648 cu ins, which means the model is somewhere between 1 terrain cube and 3! (No idea how you reconcile this - but, of course, I rely on our beloved minions to make a fair, reasonable and not at all ad hoc judgement).
I realised also, during painting, that there’s no
point (literally) in painting internal detail, despite the amount of work getting
those squares looking even and despite the fact that the inside of the piece is (obviously) almost the same volume as the outside. However, I am going to assert that the internal
chequerboard is not made of tiles, but of flags, and as there's usually bonus points for flags…
Trying to claim the floor tiles as flags for bonus points? You're really sticking your neck out with that one, you cheeky beggar!
That's a great looking diner Noel. I don't think I'd seen that range from Warbases before, but they'd fit in quite well for my own Judge Dredd project (have the figures but they're not ready for painting yet), so fangs, I mean thanks for making me aware of them.
I'm going to score this as 1.25 terrain cubes to account for the sign and pavement.
TamsinP
