My next article will be very good. This one, less so.

I recently ran a Randomizer Tournament where all participants were required to play lists generated by the glorious Infinity Random List Generator. I played NeoCanada at the event, and one of my random lists included a Garuda. I’ve proxied the Garuda DropBot once or twice, but never added one to my army because I couldn’t think of a funny Canadian conversion for “air drop robot”. However, time pressure is a uniquely helpful inspirational catalyst for me, and when I sat down to think about how to approach it, the idea hit me almost immediately: I just made hundreds of patches featuring a Space Mountie and her irritable bird companion.

I’ve already made the mounties, but I was at that moment shamefully birdless.

Wellp… guess we’re doing this.

People always seem a bit confused when I make fun of the Knights of Montesa, but this is because most people have not read the Military Orders fluff section of the original Human Sphere book from N2. Behold the storied history of this noble order (emphasis is mine):

In short,

1. Nobody wanted them to exist.
2. They’re only operating on a temporary pass.
3. They’re slightly worse than other knights.
4. They struggle to prove their value.
5. There have been repeated attempts to shut the order down.

Or in even shorter, BAHAHAHAHA THE OFFICIAL FLUFF SAYS THEY SUCK. XD

Spud did a good thing, but he did it badly, so the formerly fun project was made not-fun for those involved, and then it was never really finished, and then Spud shamefully stuffed it under the rug for 18 months.

But I’m going to have to haul it out and talk about it eventually, so I might as well get it over with now.

Behold the potato’s tale of shamefully poor planning. ;_;

In case you missed the banner at the top of the site, I am amazing. I am amazingly smart, and I come up with amazing ideas, and I execute them amazingly well.

Usually, anyway.

Sometimes, though, I find my reserves of amazing running a bit on the dry end. This is invariably a temporary situation, so all I generally need to do is to put the partially-formed idea on the backburner for a few weeks, months, or years, and eventually the perfectly-formed version of the project will bubble up to the surface of my brainmeats.

Usually, anyway.

On some very rare occasions, I find myself without any really inspiring ideas for a project, but with some extenuating circumstance preventing me from simply putting the whole thing off for a while. This usually happens because I need to finish a model in time to play in an event– I need to play the thing one way or another, and I refuse to give up and bring some lesser-quality version that one of you mundane folk would settle for, so I have no choice but to force myself to squeeze out some brilliance on a tight schedule.

I do not work well under these circumstances. Over the years, I’ve developed the capacity to perform production tasks– sculpting, conversion, painting, terrain construction, and so on– under pressure, and as it happens, some of my best work is done in a frenzied last-minute panic. However, this generally requires me to start my frenzy with the concept for the project already fully-formed in my head. If on the other hand I enter Panic Mode without having come up with my brilliant idea at the start, then things start to look fairly bleak.

Which brings us to Crab People.

The last six months of blog posts have been more Tohaa-heavy than I had intended. I generally try to maintain a mix of different types of projects from month to month, but for most of this year, general life chaos and egregious personal irresponsibility have nixed most of the side projects I was intending to work on, and left my output fairly narrowly focused on the Space Artichokes.

It is to this same well that I return today, but fear not, for there is light on the horizon. Today’s post is a roundup of the final work I recently undertook to get my Tohaa army up to a playable, painted 300pts, which means that after this goes up, I will once again be free to bounce from project to project in the manner that my ADD so fervently demands.

And if nothing else here interests you, you can always scroll to the bottom and ogle the Asparagus Hedgehogs. It’s okay, I’m not here to judge.