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Jordan Peacock

Bones Supporter
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Jordan Peacock last won the day on December 28 2012

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About Jordan Peacock

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    Godlike
  • Birthday 12/10/70

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    http://greywolf.critter.net

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  • Gender
    Male
  • Location
    Orlando, Florida, USA
  • Interests
    Sculpting, kitbashing, scenery/terrain, painting.

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  1. Zombicide: Black Plague Hirst Arts walls

    I really love "cutaway" wall sections like this for miniatures gaming. I've been guilty of going overboard with Hirst Arts modular dungeon projects, wherein it's possible to make some gorgeous corridors with walls full of Gothic-arch alcoves and hanging with tapestries and torch sconces and so on, which can make for a GREAT diorama ... but actually PLAYING with it? Not so much, when the players are seated around the table, and can't see the monsters on the other side of that wall (let alone the status markers on the floor), even though their *character* should be able to see just fine. Impressive details on the minis, and the walls look amazing! Thanks for posting this. :)
  2. Help me get this tiny dog off his sprue

    What are you going to base it on? Sometimes when I have a mini that is just a little too much trouble to separate from the sprue (or a tab) that I'm planning on mounting on a decorative resin base, I just go ahead and leave part of the tab/sprue on, and bury it in putty, then incorporate it with the base. For instance, if I were putting the dog on an outdoorsy base, I might sculpt a bit of putty into a shale-style rock/boulder, trim down the sprue under the dog into a sort of wedge/spike shape, and then embed the "spike" into the putty boulder just enough to leave an indentation, then remove it to let the putty cure. Then, when the putty is solidified and painted (and the dog mini primed with basic colors at least), I can go back and glue the figure in place later. A piece of tab or sprue can serve as an anchor and spare me some fine pin-drilling.
  3. Samus Aran (Metroid) Amiibo head resculpt

    Excellent! Yeah, regarding scale: I wish there were some way I could sculpt in a large scale, then magically shrink the sculpture down to 32mm or 28mm or whatever. I mean, that used to be the "big secret" for drawing comics: draw them larger than they'll appear in print. :)
  4. Chronoscope Minis we'd like to see, #4

    I can envision some wicked-cool things that could be done with a robot dragonfly, with some Art Nouveau stylistic touches. Now I wonder if there's some piece of pewter jewelry out there I could find and "steampunk-ize" for such a purpose. (Every now and then I peek into the jewelry display at my local thrift store JUST IN CASE there's something that could double for a miniature, or a decorative element, but I haven't yet lucked out in that regard.) The closest I've found to something like that would be Mage Knight Lancers "Dragonfly Mount" models (e.g., #134). It looks a bit clunky, not quite as elegant as I would imagine a robotic dragonfly COULD be. Still, I've got one that I've been toying with kitbashing for a future steampunk or Deadlands game.
  5. Fallout Scenery

    For the vault interior exploration, it was a matter of using assorted floor tiles to represent specific areas where the PCs ran into trouble, rather than trying to represent the entire layout. The PCs already had a map, after all. I got some more use out of my Tablescapes "Urban Street" tiles -- which include a number of "building" base tiles that are about 1.5"x1.5" for each square. They'd probably work nicely for HeroClix. For tighter areas, I used a lot of Hirst Arts tiles, plus some wafer trays from a surplus store (approximately 2"x2" squares), as well as sections of plastic cross-stitch grid. (Pictured here: a "boss fight" with a psycho "Mr. Gutsy" tasked with providing security.) As for the adventure, the PCs discovered that this was a "demonstration vault" that wasn't fully functional at the time the bombs dropped, but there had been provision for it to be eventually be /converted/ into a fully-functional vault, if time permitted, as eventually there would be newer and shinier technologies in need of being displayed for the benefit of visitors that could warrant the creation of a NEW demonstration vault elsewhere. As such, the robots had dual-purpose programming: either to serve as tour guides and demonstrators, OR to take on roles to actually welcome dwellers into the vault and get them situated into their new roles (including dealing with any panicked civilians who might want to LEAVE, rather than staying in the safetly of the vault). Robot AI in the Fallout universe isn't strictly digital and reliable -- in fact, there's the implication that a small artificially-grown organic brain serves as the core of any AI system -- and hence robots tend to be a bit "off" when encountered after 200+ years of operation. In this case, the robots began to blur their "demonstration" and "vault-operation" programming directives. The vault door was opening every 100 years simply due to data corruption in the chronometer -- a Fallout version of the Y2K bug. The original robot who'd shooed the explorers off was warning them to escape while they could, because the vault was going to be sealing up again at the end of the "business day," and the inhabitants would use extreme measures to prevent them from leaving. Tales of treasures and such were largely embellishments (though the vault still has some good loot). Alas, we ended up running short on time, so we couldn't fully explore everything. The PCs ended up securing some foodstuffs and drinking water for themselves, then taking over the security section, and reactivated some defensive turrets in the entrance corridor to slow down the super mutants (who'd managed to break in after the PCs, and were trying to work their way through the complex). Where we left off, it wasn't exactly entirely resolved, but the likely outcome was that the PCs would brace for a fight against whatever super mutants survived the "gauntlet" of turrets, and then, if the PCs prevailed, they'd be taking over the vault for themselves, as even as a mere "demonstration" vault, it had enough stores to keep them set for life.
  6. Fallout Scenery

    No, really, it's a different scene. My third and last scenario was "Grand Opening." The premise here was that a vault had been discovered 100 years ago to the day, and some explorers had been able to venture inside, finding all sorts of outrageous treasures. However, they encountered a robot who shooed them out, and insisted that they were too early, and that they should come back again in 100 years to the day for the proper Grand Opening date. The story was a bit EMBELLISHED, but the date was very specific, and as it turns out, the PCs are among those gathered in this little scavenger settlement on the day the tale claims it would open again. The trouble is, some super mutants have learned of this tale as well, and THEY want to be there for a vault opening in order to get "pure-gene" humans to subject to the FEV (forced evolutionary virus) in order to create the elite strain of super mutants (i.e., the smart ones). So, as things opened, NPCs started scattering, and provided a target-rich environment for the invading super-mutants. When a super-mutant champion of unusual size started *tossing* cars around, and I kept bringing in reinforcements every round, most of the PCs got the message that it was time to get INTO the vault rather than trying to take on an entire super mutant army. The vault gate was something I cobbled together last-minute (well, last DAY, anyway), with some foam, popsicle sticks, part of a Clix base, a ramp section from an old "skateboard park" toy, plus a spare "dumper" piece from a Toy Story 3 play set. I reused the "Junkyard" tiles, of course, but the "broken road" consists of some extra "Rolling Hills" tiles I got as part of a used grab-bag deal, and painted up in rusty wasteland colors, then used gobs of epoxy putty to create broken "pavement islands" to spell out a very, very broken-and-eroded-looking remnant of a highway. The fun part was once they got inside. The PCs all found brochures providing a map of the complex. To represent the "cutaway" view, I used a Bat Cave toy playset I picked up at the thrift store. I could have done a LOT more in the way of decorating, but ... eh, I was running low on time. I used a few Reaper "Base Boss" bases to fill in holes created by removing some of the "big boot" knobs on various parts of the toy. I supplemented things with a few Hirst Arts blocks, and pieces from other toys. (The blue computer console is actually a piece from the back of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles play set.) I toyed around a bit with the "working" elevators and such, just to be cute, but mostly this was an entirely IMPRACTICAL touch, just for the novelty factor. Maybe I'll paint it up some more and use parts of it as a backdrop for some miniatures photos. Originally I'd just gotten it because I thought I could tear it apart and use some of the floor sections for some sci-fi corridor/room interior tiles.
  7. Fallout Scenery

    Adventure #2, on Saturday, was a different scenario, presented as "The Nuclear Family." This was a particularly weird scenario, and at least initially did not rely upon combat as a concern. I gave the players roles from a made-up TV show, "The Nuclear Family," focusing upon the "life, love, laughs and lessons" of a post-apocalyptic family living in a little slice of suburbia brought back to life with the help of the Vault-Tec "Garden of Eden Creation Kit" -- or some such nonsense. We started with a "script" with speaking parts for each character, which I used as an opportunity to set the off-beat mood and introduce each of the PCs. Each player had "goal cards" with printed images, most of them focused upon finding some excuse to make an in-character "plug" for a brand-name product of the Fallout universe (e.g., to find an excuse to extoll the virtues of Abraxo Cleaning Powder, or to wax eloquent about how much you love the sugary crunch that's part of this well-balanced breakfast, with Sugar Bombs). As the adventure progressed, I revealed to players that there was a certain amount of "dishonest narrator" involved here in my description of things, as it turned out that the PCs were actually living in an underground set piece, being filmed by camera-bots, and occasionally being subjected to a device known as the "Mesmatron" in order to keep them "in character." Some of the characters had been wastelanders who'd been abducted by robots to play roles on the basis of their physical similarity to whomever had played the role previously, while a couple of characters were clones using the same experimental technology used in Vault 108 ... and hence had the lingering danger of mental instability. Eventually, enough oddities happened that the PCs were able to snap out of the "Mesmatron's" effects, and they were subtle enough not to overtly clue in the robots that they needed another "zap," and to figure out where there were dead spots in monitoring, in order to hatch an escape plan. As for scenery, this is mostly just down to Tablescapes tiles: the ruined street is a mix of "Urban Street (Clean)" and "Urban Street (Damaged)," while the patchy lawn segments are "Rolling Hills." The house layout is done with some pieces of mat board with printed floor textures, the garage is a former Warhammer movement tray, and the walking paths are strips from a vinyl roll of "cobblestone" texture originally intended for a "winter village" set. For interior furnishings, I used some "quarter scale" dollhouse furnishings from a local dollhouse store, plus an assortment of HeroClix terrain set elements (the desk and reel-to-reel computer), Hirst Arts (the "computer console" in one corner), and HeroQuest (a plastic top of a "bookshelf" that I turned into a stand-in for a table). There were many possible escape routes, and many ways things could branch out. In my original play-test, the PCs ended up blowing a hole in the "set" by detonating the fusion reactor of some appliances in the kitchen. (That's a Fallout thing. No need for a power grid when most of your appliances have their own little micro-fusion cores that'll last you the next 200 years or so. But just be careful about too much stress to the shielding -- especially with cars!) In this one, the PCs managed to trigger an event that let them slip through some doors on one set to lead into another one -- in this case, the set for the "Bad Part of Town." I let my players go get some drinks during a "screen loading break," while I put away the tiles for the Nuclear Family house, and swapped out tiles for some "Junkyard" pieces to replace the yard. The "Junkyard" pieces have a lot of "junk" elements in low relief, and I supplemented those with a few car fenders, hoods, and other elements created by making temporary Instant-Mold impressions of parts of O-scale toy cars, then making putty "casts" and deliberately stressing and warping them to make them look abused and bent, then adding them to the scrap piles (either just for a little extra "retro" look, or to cover up elements I thought might look TOO high-tech or modern-ish that it might look anachronistic for this particular setting). The remainder is just a bit of scatter terrain, as the PCs dealt with some nasty super mutants (who'd actually been trapped here by the robots as well, but that didn't make them any friendlier toward fellow non-super-mutant prisoners). As with so many of my games of this sort, that was mostly done via BLOWING THINGS UP (i.e., the cars). The real challenge was for PCs not to kill themselves in the process. The Reaper dumpster played a central role in this, as Atomo the Wonder Dog ended up seeking refuge in it when the cars started blowing up. (Nuke the Dumpster! it was lead-lined, see....)
  8. Fallout Scenery

    And here is the "food court" area: The Frosty Bar featured some commercialized "cryo" technology -- still functional, even 200+ years later, because things like that happen in the Fallout universe -- relied upon by a scavenger/merchant to sell soft-serve ice cream to road-weary travelers. (In-game, the significance of this was that a mechanically-inclined character could subvert the safety features and use the cryo-tech for offensive purposes.) Both it and the Diner are more Plasticville buildings.
  9. Fallout Scenery

    Next Up: The Radiation King Discount Appliance Outlet Store! This store has semi-intact windows (cut-and-scored blister plastic) and I wanted to depict an interior. I made a counter out of some foam board and heavy paper, made a floor with some illustration board and a printed 'tile" pattern, and assorted boxes and TV sets are just simple papercraft designs I made. The oddly-shaped "entertainment system" out front is a modified paper model of the Kuba Komet Entertainment System, as shared on the Papermau papercraft blog. I just included a "Please Stand By" screen image, and increased the size of the CRT area. It doesn't look like anything in the Fallout games, but its retro-"futuristic" weirdness still felt like it wasn't THAT far off. ( http://papermau.blogspot.com.br/2016/03/kuba-komet-entertainment-system-paper.html ) The cars in the foreground are converted Happy Meal "Pixar Cars" toys -- "Flo" is the one in the foreground, while the bubble-topped car to the left was a "Ramone," but with the roof replaced with part of an "acorn" capsule from a coin-op machine.
  10. Fallout Scenery

    Next up was the location responsible for most of the woes related to this adventure: "The Bird is the Word" -- a retrofuturistic hatchery. The initial premise of the game was that this ruined remnant of an off-Route-66 shopping district had been turned into a stopping point for caravans making the long trek between the relatively civilized lands of the NCR (New California Republic) and the wilder domain of New Vegas and smaller settlements of the Mojave Desert. This former stretch of famed Route 66 was now known as the "Long 15" (for I-15), and traveled by merchants with pack-animals laden with goods, or pulling carts, rather than cars, given the broken and intermittent state of the highway system. Enter the Wok-a-Doodle, a rebuilt restaurant catering to weary caravan travelers. The proprietor, who claims (dubiously) that he is Mr. Wok A. Doodle the 4th (Esquire) and that the restaurant has been in his family since before the Great War (200 years ago), SOMEHOW has an endless supply of "chicken" for his famous all-you-can-eat buffet. As it turns out, the "Bird-is-the-Word" Hatchery is the not-so-secret source of his "chicken" supply. I boarded up the windows with craft sticks, and pasted on little paper cut-out signs meant to represent every scavenged sign "Mr. Doodle" could get his hands on that might somehow convey the message of "STAY OUT." After all, many post-apocalyptic survivors CANNOT READ, but one tends to learn to recognize various warning signs that accompany old-world sites of peril. This is another O-scale Plasticville building, with a printed sign covering the embossed "PLASTICVILLE" name and other details. I think this was originally a "5-and-10 store."
  11. Fallout Scenery

    My concept for this scenario was something I described to friends as an "open-air dungeon." That is, it's not some labyrinth, but rather a central area with several mini-locations around it. I didn't plan on lifting up the buildings to reveal interiors when someone went inside, but rather I could employ a limited amount of "theater of the mind" for any action taking place inside one of these smaller buildings. After all, it was safe to say that any enemies encountered inside would be within the Pace of a single move, and easily within short range for attacks, so there's no need for special maneuvering if someone says, "I attack the radroaches" or "I get behind a counter and toss a grenade," or whatever. But I COULD still lift a roof off and put a figure inside, or use some other such visual shorthand to keep track of which character had gone where. (Simply putting the figure on the ROOF of the building as an abstraction of being inside wouldn't work, because the PCs spent a good portion of the adventure actually climbing up onto rooftops.) Behold! The Poseidon Energy "Fusion/Coolant" stop. This is actually an older terrain piece I had used last year, and had to patch up a bit to use this time around. I did some more Dremel work on the "fuel/coolant island" piece and gave it a wider base so that it could actually stand on its own without having to be glued down to a terrain tile. I also added a power armor / engine rack, made from assorted bits (a Hirst Arts sci-fi crate lid for the base, some sort of construction-set "arm" piece from a thrift store for the main support, and then a 40K "bulldozer" bit for the support arms). The "FUSION COOLANT" sign was just made with a label maker, and anything I "print" using those things ends up with letters that randomly jitter up and down. I painted the trapezoid shapes around them (alternating between graphite gray and blue) to try to turn it into something that looks stylized and intentional. In the back is a Reaper dumpster, painted rusty orange and then spackled with a dingy green color, and then spattered with lots of gray-brown paintbrush wash-water scraped from the bottom of the paintbrush water dish. I had intended that this spot would be the place to go to find a suit of power armor, plus a good assortment of tools and items that could be turned by any of the mechanically-minded or explosively-minded members of the group into makeshift weapons, explosives, and traps. Alas, nobody dared go inside during the game.
  12. At Necronomicon 2017 (October 20-22, in Tampa, Florida), I ran three Fallout-themed games using the Savage Worlds RPG. For miniatures, I used several conversions of Reaper and HeroClix figures. For terrain, I used Secret Weapon Miniatures "Tablescapes" tiles, O-scale Bachmann Plasticville buildings, some McDonald's Happy Meal Pixar "Cars" toys, some laser-cut MDF pieces from Warsenal, and an assortment of other "scatter" items. Scenario #1 was dubbed "All You Can Eat." The "centerpiece" was the "Wok-a-Doodle" restaurant, created by taking an incomplete Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles play set I picked up at the thrift store, disassembling it further, and then combining it with some putty, cardboard, paper elements, the facade of an O-scale building, and some "Mars Attacks" scatter terrain pieces to make a street scene piece. It doesn't make much SENSE in several respects: the Wok-a-Doodle front statues impede the right-of-way on the sidewalk, the buildings are too crowded together, and the sidewalk is too narrow to walk on, on the side-streets ... but as a bit of shorthand for "there are ruined old-timey buildings here," and as something I could fairly easily transport without fear of parts breaking off in transit, it worked splendidly. (Closeup on the "entrance": The "Wayside Village" sign is just a bit of Photoshoppery with some textures and some retro typefaces. I hunted around for images of shopping centers, and was inspired by an image of the sign for the Lakeside Village "Complete Shopping Center" in Elyria, OH. I obviously didn't go for an authentic recreation, but just enough for a quick job (I was a bit pressed for time at this point) of something I could print off, glue to some foam-core illustration board, and turn into something that would help set the tone for the area. The "street facade" is at odds with the idea of this being a "shopping center," but ... eh, nobody complained, so I guess I got away with it.
  13. Bad Decisions In Horror Movies

    A friend of ours (the same guy for whom I paint lots of miniatures, incidentally) lets us drop by to watch movies that he gets on BluRay or through whatever video service he's got at the time, and I am TERRIBLE at remarking aloud about whatever we are watching. I will often voice disgust with how "obviously stupid" the character is in a horror situation, and my friend -- who has a natural disposition toward playing devil's advocate -- will challenge me and sometimes ... yeah, okay, I'm just being too "genre-savvy," and I'll grant it, I was being unfair. And of course, if there are amazing coincidences that happen in the story ... well, maybe this is a case of selection bias. We are being told the story about the person who DID go into the spooky graveyard, who DID stupidly break the seal holding back the curse, or any number of things, or else there just wouldn't be a story. But sometimes, SOMETIMES, I think stories go a little too far, and it's not merely that people are being "stupid" or "careless," but willfully behaving in suicidal fashion that goes at odds with any observation of their behavior up to this point. Like, say, I'm a security guard. I have just discovered a withered corpse. Since I am not a coroner doing an autopsy, I am probably NOT going to bring my face in so close to said withered face that, if this were a romantic movie, and said withered corpse weren't a withered corpse, we in the audience would expect a passionate kiss to follow. But of COURSE this corpse is actually a mummy-something and is going to spring to life and suck the guard's life force out through his gaping mouth. Now, my reflex is not, "Well OBVIOUSLY a dead corpse is going to spring to life and suck your life force out through your mouth." It's more, "It is not natural to bring your face within near-kissing-distance to the face of a shriveled corpse, in the muddy dark, where one might slip, or where one might get nostrils full of withered-corpse-stench." Ditto for blundering downstairs in the dark. Now, I MIGHT do something like that if there were some matter of urgency: I just heard someone cry for help, and I'm NOT logically thinking that the danger is coming from a monster trying to eat someone and who might therefore eat me next. Or, I dunno, zombie apocalypse, and we the main characters have all experienced swarms of flesh-eating cannibal zombies, yet were lucky enough to survive, so let's just drive a short distance outside of the city, and set up in some camping tents. Surely no zombies are going to come tearing through the -- OH, WHAT DO YOU KNOW? There goes the neighborhood! Would have made perfect sense if these are oblivious campers outside of cell phone reception range and they haven't heard that there's an Apocalypse going on, but if you've got what amount to "veterans," each of whom has just lost family members and friends, I expect them to be at least a TEENSY bit more on guard, and jumpy. It's not necessarily that it's obvious or smart (I mean, even inside a house, you might have zombies breaking through drywall that *seemed* like a nice safe barrier a few minutes ago), but it just seems unnatural for the characters to be this way. Now, if they've been traumatized and they've tried to kill too many brain cells with alcohol, and hence somebody does something drunken-stupid? Or everyone is barricaded inside a warehouse, and there's constant zombie-moaning, and someone's wits splinter, and he goes screaming out into the night? It's stupid, but at least it feels like a more plausible sort of stupid rather than just "Okay, writer needs you to totally not care about the horror anymore." And it's not always horror, per se. For instance, there was "Falling Skies." It had a number of problems, but one thing that bugged me was the idea of an alien invasion, where it's demonstrated that the aliens have air superiority (spaceships -- they came from SPACE, after all), civilization is squashed, and yet rag-tag survivors are just sort of camping out in the open streets, under the open sky, sipping hot cocoa around campfires, completely oblivious to the idea that ... hey, I dunno, maybe an alien is going to fly by at night, see all your campfires amid the vast blackness of nothing-burning-non-civilization, and decide that makes a nice target to start shooting at. And of course, every now and again, death DID come from the skies, but it never seemed to change their behavior. Why? I think it's just because the writers wanted some "light" moments of sitting around campfires swapping stories, as part of their emotional orchestration of the tone of the series, and, doggonnit, they're going to HAVE those campfire scenes. :)
  14. MODULAR DUNGEON

    I love the irregular block look of the walls, and I would actually find some value in 30mm squares, simply because of games such as Iron Kingdoms (Warmachine, Hordes) and others where 30mm round bases have become the standard for human-sized models. However, I've got too much of an investment in Hirst Arts and other tiles that are based on inch measurements. Even if I can't fit a 30mm base within a one-inch square, the systems I've been playing allow for usage of tape measures anyway, so while I can see some value in 30mm squares, it's oddly off from anything remotely resembling a "standard" out there at present.
  15. Terrain for 40K

    Regarding cheap ideas for terrain bits: Juice Bottle Lid Pedestals: I save lids from Tropicana and certain other drinks that have a sort of "gothic arch" thing going on with the design: (Note the orange lid at top.) I sometimes use these as extra-large bases for extra-large Bones models, or else as a dais for a statue, once spray-painted black and then given grey highlights. Alternatively, find a cardboard or PVC tube of the right diameter to insert, and it makes a massive column topper.
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