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Showing results for tags 'Terry Pratchett'.
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This is Micro Art Studio's 30mm Sam Vimes, a grizzled but goodhearted veteran of the Ankh-Morpork night watch in Terry Pratchett's Discworld series. In Vimes' first book, "Guards! Guards!" after Vimes narrowly escapes a dragon attack he is nursed to health by the goodhearted, lonely and ridiculously aristocratic Lady Sybil Ramkin, a swamp dragon breeder from the poshest of families. Swamp dragons are pathetic little nervous highly-bred things prone to exploding. The city is being menaced by a much vaster and more sinister, almost mythic dragon. When an angry mob decides to take out its wrath by attempting to massacre Sibyl's pets, Sam leaps out of his sickbed and, well ... And a touch later: Sam Vimes is the other of my husband's favorite characters from the Discworld books, along with Granny Weatherwax. Although this figure isn't as resplendent as Mistress Weatherwax in her evening finery, I enjoyed painting him. As with Granny Weatherwax, I played around with a few backgrounds, trying to put him in a context of the Ramkin estates.
This is the Micro Art Studio 30mm "Granny Weatherwax II" -- Esmerelda Weatherwax, known as Esme to her best friend and Granny to everyone else, top witch on all of the Discworld, as she appeared in Terry Pratchett's "Maskerade", come down from her home Up North to the Big Bad City in disguise as a Great Lady to rescue some friends from some pickles. As a witch, of course she always wears only black. The only version of this mini I have seen online painted up is all in sugary pastel colors (to emphasize the incongruity of the outfit, I suppose). According to the book's description: Truth to tell, I always pictured the dress in the book as something marvelously Edward Gorey, more the Titanic's timeperiod than Marie Antoinette. But this is fun too. So anyhow, I painted her up as a birthday gift for my husband, who has long loved the Discworld. Granny Weatherwax is one of his two favorite characters (the other is also painted, and I'll start a thread for later). I painted her up with a pitch black dress, then glazed over it with a rainbow of interference colors.
In one of the Discworld books, Sir Samuel Vimes, Commander of the Watch of Ankh-Morpork, has made a vow to himself: Every single day, at eight PM, he will read his beloved baby son a bedtime story and then tuck him in. Every day. No matter what. Because his own father was a neglectful, worthless tosser. Vimes's iron determination is established early in the book when he is late. He will NOT be late. And every Watchman in the CITY falls into an established routine, one commandeering a horse and wagon and others stopping traffic, arranging incidents to clear his way, and otherwise arranging for there to be a clear, empty path between Vimes and his home. The citizens don't mind. They know why Sir Samuel Vimes is furiously ripping through downtown like a cheetah with its tail on fire. And it's not every DAY, after all. No more than once a week. And when he arrives home, Little Sam picks a book. It is almost always "Where's My Cow?" in which the Farmer looks for his cow and says things like "Is that my cow? It is pink. It says "oink." That is Biggie the Pig! That is not my cow. Where's my cow?" Sir Sam doesn't mind. He loves his son. Although, occasionally, he'll sneak a line in like, "Is that my cow? It is not brown like a cow. It smells awful. It says "Millenium hand and shrimp!" That is not my cow! That is Foul Ole Ron! Where's my cow?" His wife frowns on this, but Little Sam thinks it's hilarious. Sir Sam has read this book so many times now, that he could easily recite it by heart. Later in the same book, Vimes learns that assassins have been sent after his family. He tears home like a cheetah with its tail on fire. His family has been rescued, but HE doesn't know that. Furthermore, he's had the crap beat out of him and hasn't slept in a while, and is not quite completely unhinged. Which leads to a horrifying and hilarious scene where Vimes comes crashing through the front window of his own home, sword and dagger in hand, facing assassins, screaming, "WHERE's my COW!?!?"