Not the Usual Demon
Over the years I’ve put forth a fair share of effort toward a few tasks. Fiction writing is chiefest among them, but that’s not the subject today. And the readers sigh with relief.
Today I’m delving back into a hobby for the topic. Miniature Wargaming. For those not aware, I mean games like Warhammer 40,000 as well a slew of others both in that universe and out (Infinity and Warmachine being the latest I’ve started into, as well as 15mm scale game I backed on Kickstarter: All Quiet on the Martian Front). I’ve been building and painting little models since I was a child. I’ve amassed quite s collection, especially when one considers all the other models my brothers collected stay where I am.
So, I’ve been doing this a long time. At times obsessively, but lately not so much. And its been on and off in general. When I first started writing back in high school the minis got boxed and put away so I could have more time with the page. Now I’m slipping slowly into madness, possibly because I’m surrounded by miniatures that I’ve customized into horrific shapes. Over the lat six or seven years I’ve grown used to playing Chaos Space Marines, the principle villains of Warhammer 40k. They’re mutants and demons. And I love to make them look like MY mutants and demons.
Case in point, the most memorable dream I’ve ever had about wargaming. Yes, I dream about wargaming sometimes.
I dreamed of miniatures I did not yet have. And one that did not exist in any form as far as I could guess. That one miniature sits on my shelf now. It was meant to be a dog made of smaller dogs, and I named it the King of Dogs. It towers over the other miniatures and overwhelms the borders of its base.
I had the dream that led to my making the mini back in college. And I still haven’t painted it fully. I’m a bit ashamed at the state of the painting affairs here in my house. I’d tell myself I don’t have time, but really I feel clumsy holding a brush these days. When I was a kid little hands helped make up for my clumsiness. Not so now.
In any case, this is sort of a starting place for me. A new beginning for miniatures. Once I get worn out of writing today perhaps I’ll get the paint back out.
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Thought for the day: “History is the autobiography of a madman.” – Alexander Herzen
Animal of the day: White Rabbit
Because following an animal can include chasing a dream.
Five pillars at the end of the corridor gleamed with Solna’s burning away mist for hundreds of kilometers in every direction, but even the luminous scanners were outshone by a fiery red light to the fore of Solnakite. Yajain knew only one thing brighter than five combined solnas, an active hive.
Solna’s were born in pillars with cores overcharged by an ancient solna wrapping herself around the core. Herself didn’t precisely cover the identity of the solna ancient. No one had ever gotten close enough to one to actually study the creature, even less so than other solnas. Solnakite rode forward on the vapors of transit and the infernal pillar came into view.
Its shell was molten red a few hundred kilometers above Solnakite’s flight plane, and elsewhere, igneous black. Lava flowed down from openings in the pillar. In places, large sections of shell had melted and fallen away, revealing passages and enormous dimly luminous shapes that still looked tiny at this distance, the snakelike bodies of immature solnas. Yajain shielded her eyes to look closer, trying to glimpse the searing core of the hot, burning, infinitely tall column.