D@ny claims to care for her people - but Sansa is the one who truly looks after their needs.
D@ny claims to want peace for her people, but she brings only a storm - and Sansa weathers that storm.
D@ny has utilized her armies dragons and ensuing ruthlessness to fulfill her obsession of claiming her “birthright” - Sansa has utilized her acquired political and self-preservation instincts to protect her people.
D@ny and her allies claim to want to create a more peaceful Kingdom - but Sansa’s actions are the ones who work to see that vision become reality… D@ny has brought nothing but fire and blood.
[ 10.05.16 • 5/100 DAYS OF PRODUCTIVITY ]
currently studying some chemistry, but here’s a glimpse of the geog notes I’ve been doing so far for weather and climate : D just so happened that fof the exam today the essay questions were pretty much identical to the ones our teacher gave to us as practice :“)
my exams end on friday so I’ll try to start posting as soon as I can after that~
Good luck to everyone having their exams! :)
One of the best things about doing commissions, imo, is getting the opportunity to try out different basing schemes that you might otherwise never use for your own models/armies. XD So! Here’s how I put together an abandoned city street - hopefully it’ll be helpful to people!
The pavement/sidewalk area beside the street is made by layering two pieces of plasticard - a larger one on the bottom for the gutter, and a smaller one on top, cut into sections, to show the kerb/pavement.
For this I’m using plasticard that’s about 1mm thick. Roughly cut out a circle or two that’s about the size of your base - for this one I’ve only used one circle, since the street area will take up almost half the base. For bases where you want less street and more pavement, you’ll probably need to use two circles since the smaller part of the circle won’t be enough for the pavement/sidewalk area.
Cut out any grill work for drains etc. from the gutter piece, and cut the pavement piece into sections. Using a knife and/or sandpaper, round off the top edges of the pavement sections, and also the bars in the drain.
Then glue the gutter layer into place on the base. Don’t worry if the piece overhangs the edges of the base a bit - once the glue’s dry, you can trim the excess off.
Glue the kerb piece into place, then glue the pavement sections on. I’ve also roughly cut one corner of a pavement section off to show a bit of cracked, broken cement.
Again, don’t worry about overlap, just trim off any excess afterwards once the glue’s dried. You can also use sandpaper to help smooth out the edges.
For this particular street, I wanted a build-up of mud and gravel and such, so here I’ve used some Agrellan Earth, heaping it on thicker where I want larger/deeper cracks. You could also use any other texture paint or just plain sand/gravel for the road surface.
I’ve also used some PVA glue to add some fine gravel, then coated the whole thing with a thin layer of watered-down PVA glue to help seal the Agrellan Earth and hold all the gravel in place.
Once it’s dry, spray primer the base. The spray primer will also help seal down any still-loose bits of gravel that the glue may not be quite holding.
Finally, paint it! I didn’t step-by-step this part, I mostly just used drybrushing of lighter grey/browns over a dark grey base,
stippled on some yellow to get the road line, used a bit of bronze for the drain bars, hit the whole thing with a few washes of Agrax and Sepia, then a bit more drybrushing of light brown/bone afterwards. (And then of course tidy up the base rim with black, which I haven’t done yet here, oops.)
And there you go! A weathered, dirty street base. :D So what do you all think?
“Would you jus’ shut up, kid? It ain’t your fault.” The words slipped from his mouth without so much as a single stutter, the familiar gravel of his tone cutting through the bitter northern wind as sharp as a steel blade. Your nerves were set alight with such a harsh inflection, and you bit down on your bluing lower lip, trying to stop your teeth from chattering long enough to respond.
“Please, Logan, just one more try. We might get a signal n-now.” A growl tore from his throat before you could even attempt to grab for the mangled plastic phone he had stashed in his pocket. It was clear that the man’s patience with you was already wearing thin, and he was absolutely oblivious to your desperation.
“It’s a sat’ phone, I already told you that. If we ain’t gettin’ a signal, it’s broken. I’m surprised it’s even still in one piece,” he said, his voice dropping a bit out of what seemed to be sheer irritation with the circumstances. His arm went to cover the pocket that held the crushed remains of the satellite phone, as thought it would deter you from another attempt to make a call.
Finding no need to respond, you dropped your head, staring blankly down at your boots. One footstep after another they sunk into the snow, a line of indentations trailing behind you and the rugged mutant that you had been walking alongside. Clouds of white steam drifted from your nose and up towards the hollow emptiness where a canopy had once stood. The ghosts of shaking breaths dissipated between the bony branches of the expansive forest, as though they were trying to escape from the dire situation had befallen you. Similar specters of white seeped from the toothy grimace that marred Logan’s face, entwining with your own exhalations as they clawed their way to the deep indigo sky.
Dread settled in your stomach as you stared at the final shreds of sunset, streaks of blood red on the horizon that seemed to taunt you with the promise of nothing but a frigid night ahead. The snow that brushed against your legs had already turned your feet numb, and each step felt like leaden weights had been tied to your ankles. The boots and jacket you donned were far from adequate protection from the elements and terrain, but after being stranded in the middle of an unknown forest, they were all that you could turn to for comfort. The cold was so intense that your fingers felt like they were nothing but a memory, and your teeth had begun an incessant stream of involuntary chattering. Despite all efforts to clench your jaw, the rattling still reverberated in your skull, the muscles in your cheeks aching from the motion.
“Wha’ did I tell ya? Shut up,” he snarled, the typical cold indifference replaced by undisputable hostility. Such a biting comment was enough to make you flinch back, screwing your eyes shut for just a brief moment as you let the scalding words wound your heart before they rolled off your back. You knew that the situation was far from ideal, but it was never your intention to allow the weapons to get so close to the off-road vehicle, and it was definitely never your intention to be so incompetent in fighting that the vehicle would overturn. It had taken all of your willpower not to sob upon completion of the conflict, knowing that although the enemies had been subdued, you had just cost the both of you the only map you had to get out of the forest, and a cold night awaited after what had been a mild day.
The tears threatened to spill again, but you swallowed them back, knowing that they would only freeze upon your face as it got colder and colder. Despite your best efforts, Logan must have heard your meager attempt to shield your emotions, and after a few more moments of silence, he spoke up again.
“I’m not going to say it again; that wasn’t your fault. We didn’t know they’d be so hostile. I’m just trying to get a message to Charles to let him know we’re in trouble. The bird should be here as soon as he knows we’re stranded out here. I just dunno when he’ll start to suspect that something went wrong and start tuning in,” Logan muttered, gesturing to his skull. Shame coursed through your veins once more; of course Logan was working on his own solution to your predicament, and his efforts to silence you had been for your mutual benefit.
You admired his strength and willpower, but your own was waning by the second. Waves of exhaustion crashed over you like an endless sea, and each step seemed to sap your energy more and more. The cold was calling for you to succumb, and although you had soldiered on for miles up until now, the weight of the cold and of the daunting night ahead made blackness crowd out your vision.
“L-Logan,” you stutter again, trying to ignore the sharp pain and effort it took to even get a single word out. “Please, please can we stop for just a minute? I-I’m cold, I need to take a break.” Before he could even agree to your plea, your shaking knees forced you to stand still in an attempt to recover some strength. Darkness still clouding the edges of your periphery, you watched as Logan took a few more steps before stopping and turning back to look at you, your knees bending as you threatened to crash to the ground.
“Oh, no ya don’t,” he growled, striding through the snow to arrive back at your side. “You can’t stop moving now. If you stop, you’re going to be hurtin’ real bad. If you take a break in weather like this, that’s when the cold gets dangerous. You won’t be able to feel your limbs, and you’ll want to take a nice, long nap. There’s no guarantee you’d wake up from that lil’ nap, and even if you did, you might lose a few odd fingers along the way.”
“How do you know that?” You questioned weakly, staring up at him through squinted eyes, realizing just how quickly night was falling as his figure appeared before you as nothing more than an angered shadow. A grimace worked its way across his face, etching wrinkles into his forehead from the expression he had exhausted many times before.
“I’ve been stuck out in enough Canadian winters to know hypothermia when I see it. I’ve also seen enough men plenty bigger and tougher ‘an you die from it.” The critical glare he still bore sent a shiver up your spine, and despite the cold, it felt as though his judgement were searing your soul with its intensity. In an attempt to lighten the mood, and for him to allow you to stand still just a few moments longer, you forced more words through your off-color lips.
“Is th-that why this weather d-doesn’t bother you?” You watched as he quirked his head to the side, eyebrow raising slightly. Crossing his arms, he answered your question a bit more gently than he had previous ones.
“What, me being a Canadian? I ‘spose so. But I think you’re forgetting I pretty much can’t die. I’ve had worse.” He fell silent, and seemed to look you over with a harsh, cold, judgmental gaze. You closed your eyes, somewhat ashamed that you were feeling so weak in the presence of someone who was so clearly so strong and resilient. He grunted, and with the gruff sound you found enough strength to open your eyes again, trying to ignore how numb your legs were beginning to feel now that you stopped moving. After a short sigh, more words fell from his lips, these too gentle in nature.
“Damn, I’m sorry,” he muttered. The apology was enough to keep your attention focused forward, your pain taking the back burner as you strained to hear some of the first caring words from a man that was known as nothing more than a brutal killing machine. “I didn’t even think that you’d be this cold. You don’t look too good, kid.”
“Th-thanks,” you tried to joke, but the comment fell flat as embarrassment burned in your cheeks. A heavy arm dropped across your shoulder, and Logan suddenly engulfed you from the side with his massive form.
“Listen, I was wrong. We’re going to take a break. I don’t want you losin’ any toes out here. That jacket just ain’t enough for the kind of cold we’re getting tonight. I’ll see what I can do to warm you up,” he spoke into your ear, his feet beginning to move in slow deliberate steps, a speed that you still struggled to keep up with. But the thought of taking a true break was enough to motivate you to take just a few more steps, knowing that you would be settling down in a matter of moments.
The weathered X-Man led you to the base of a sturdy pine tree, its branches weighted and drooping with the hefty white snow. The deep green brushed at your hair as you stumbled beneath it, and Logan lowered you gently to the ground, letting your body fall to a small patch of dirt and pine needles. Reluctantly pulling your hands from your pockets, you used your purple fingers to help yourself sit up with your back to the rough bark, panting from the cold and from the exhaustion.
In the next moment, Logan lowered himself next to you, his back sharing the tree as bodily support. While you found yourself closing your eyes in the bliss of momentary respite, you could feel Logan’s sharp gaze running over you one more time. The next sound that came to your ears was one of shuffling cloth, and before you knew it, the heavy biker’s jacket that Logan had been wearing was draped over your body like a thick blanket.
The weight of the garment provided immediate comfort, and the warmth followed soon afterward. The residual heat from Logan’s burly body was enough to strike you through your frosted layers, and in that moment, you swore that there was nothing closer to heaven on earth. Being enveloped in something so luxurious was enough to give you the strength to open your eyes and look over at the man who had been partnered with you, his bare arms now exposed to the frigid cold.
“Are… are you cold? T-take your jacket back, Logan. I don’t need it.”
“You do, kid, so shove it. ‘Sides, I’ve been colder.” The sharp reply was enough to silence you, but you couldn’t help but stare at Logan’s arms, the skin open to the harsh elements that had been causing your flesh to sting and burn for the last hour or more. The evidence of snow and freezing air would support the notion that Logan was just as cold as you were, but his skin was still full of color, and he was incredibly still, as opposed to the quivering leaf that your entire frame had become. Had you not felt so frigid or exhausted, you would have continued to insist that he take his jacket back, but for the time being, you were merely grateful to have an additional layer of protection against the coming night.
A sneeze suddenly tore free from your mouth, a shallow coughing sound that was lost in the empty woods, a mere byproduct of your current miserable state. Embarrassed from yet another display of weakness, you weren’t even able to stutter an apology before a heavy arm fell over your shoulder, and Logan’s sizeable arms yanked your body tight against his barrel chest.
“Christ, runt, don’t die on me.”
“I told you to shut up, didn’t I? Looks like we’ll be in this one for the long haul. It’s only gettin’ darker, and Charles hasn’t said a word, so this might be where we’re spending the night.” It was clear by the tone of his voice that he was less than thrilled at the prospect of an overnight stay in the middle of nowhere, but his inflection was one of the last thoughts on your mind. Rather, you were focused on how incredibly warm the muscular body was, the sculpted figure that you were now pressed against with considerable strength.
“Sure you’re okay?” You asked this out of concern, but the compassionate effect was lost. In comparison to his, your voice was weak, but it seemed that Logan had no problem hearing you. After a moment’s pause, his arm squeezing around you as though to assure you that he was still there, he responded.
“Jus’ worried about you, that’s all. You’re cold as a block of ice, and let me tell you, Charles’ll have my head if you get real hurt from all this bullshit.” You could tell that the words were supposed to have some sort of bite to them, but as the night crept up on the both of you, they fell incredibly flat. It was suddenly clear that both of you now understood what had not been spoken aloud; in this moment, Logan cared for you. His gruff exterior, his scarred skin, the façade that he kept up easily with a grimace and a growl, it was forced to melt away. As the darkness closed in, he had been forced to show his concern, even compassion, for your sake.
You swallowed, clenching your chattering teeth to accomplish the feat, and realized that there was no better time to take advantage of the closeness you had gained. Despite the cold, you did your best to relax and push your body as deep into Logan as you could, gaining as much contact as possible. You felt as though if you could meld your form with his, you would without a moment of hesitation. Compared to the bitter cold of the night air, he was as warm as the top of a radiator, a small beacon of light in the desolate forest in which you were lost.
A few moments later, you felt his chin come to rest on top of your head, effectively burying your face in the crook of his neck. The gruff bristles of his facial hair tickled your scalp for just a few moments, and the weight of his gesture brought on a new wave of comfort. For a few seconds longer, there was silence. His deep voice seemed to run through your entire body when he spoke, warming you from the inside out.
“You relax, ‘aight? I’ve got you. We’ll get through this. I’ll keep you warm. We’re gonna make it, I promise.”
And even though you were so cold it was painful, and you felt so helpless it made your chest seize, you knew that you had to believe him. So you allowed yourself a moment of bliss, listening to his thunderous heartbeat echoing in your ears, and trusted that he would hold you close until help arrived.