I begin by gluing together the front and back torso pieces. Each back torso piece has a pair of little guide holes that line up with protrusions in each front torso piece. This makes fitting a breeze.

The only gotcha is that after the parts are glued together into a single torso piece, there may be slightly uneven seams on the sides, where the arms will eventually be attached. Gentle sanding using a coarse to medium grit flex pad will eliminate the problem and ensure that the arms will have a smooth surface to adhere to.

The bottom of each assembled torso forms a kind of socket, which fits together with the rounded “ball” above the belt of each leg piece. I fill the socket with a dab of plastic cement and then join the two pieces.

The plastic cement doesn’t bond instantly, so I have a short period of time to make adjustments to the torso positioning, and make sure it’s not sitting at some strange angle.

Next I like to attach the arms to the torsos. The Sergeant’s arms can be glued in whatever position seems appealing; I’ll glue his left arm (holding his bolt pistol) in a low ready position, and his right arm (holding his power sword) up so that he looks like he’s signaling a charge.

For the eight Marines who carry rifle-sized weapons (the boltguns and the flamer), the arms present a positioning issue: I need to attach the arms so that they properly cradle the weapon, but without gluing the weapon in place. I glue the right arms in place first, putting a spot of cement on the arm and then pressing it into the body.

Once that’s done, I can go about gluing the left arms. There’s no real describing how to do this: it involves dry-fitting, eyeballing, and taking advantage of the open time of the plastic cement to finesse the arms into position. If I’ve done it right, I should be able to balance a boltgun or a flamer in the Marine’s arms, without it looking unnatural.

As for the last Marine, who carries the missile launcher: instead of gluing his arms into place, I’ll set them aside, and mask off where I would glue them to his torso with small bits of Silly Putty. This is so that, when I go to attach the arms later, I don’t have to sand or scrape away layers of paint and primer from the plastic.

I’ll also mask off the glue-points on the arms.

I prefer to attach the Marines’ heads after the arms, because it permits me to pose each Marine a little bit. I can have him looking down the barrel of his gun as if he’s aiming it; or I can have him looking straight ahead or even away. I try to change things up within the squad, so that although the Marines are all wearing very similar armor they’re not all posed identically.

Two special considerations, here. First, the Marine Sergeant has a helmet that’s distinguishable from the rank and file, so it’s important to reserve that part for him. Second, and more importantly, the heavy weapons Marine’s arms aren’t available for use as reference points, yet it’s kind of nice if he’s looking down the targeting module attached to the missile launcher. Properly positioning his head requires more dry-fitting, eyeballing, and finessing.

Actually attaching the heads is simple enough: a spot of cement into the socket in the torso, and then ease the head into place and position until the cement sets up.

The heads in place, I attach the shoulder pauldrons next. These get a spot of cement on the inside surface, and then set in place atop the upper arms.

Finally, I can attach the backpacks and any other parts. The backpacks get a couple of spots of cement in the recesses and on the block-shaped surfaces that mates with each Marines’ torso; the only potential gotcha is ensuring that the backpacks are square to the ground rather than attached at a funny angle.

I’ve ultimately decided against using the loincloth piece on the Marine Sergeant, but if I was going to use it (or, for that matter, any of the other bitz, like grenades or purity seals or whatever), this would be the time I’d attach them. As with everything else, a little of the plastic cement goes a really long way.

Ventilation is frequently an overlooked expense, but it’s really not an optional one. Airbrushes work by using a stream of compressed air to push atomized paint. Some of those paint particles will inevitably either miss or not adhere to their target, and end up airborne. Unless they’re captured, they’ll eventually dry and float down as a fine layer of colored dust covering your work area – and in the meantime, you run the risk of inhaling them, which, even if the paint itself is non-toxic, can still damage your lungs.

Unfortunately most of the ventilation solutions on the market are art studio solutions. Marketed to professionals and serious hobbyists, they consist of large, heavy booths that hook up to exhaust ducting such as for a clothes dryer. Industrial-strength fans in the booths pull overspray through filter screens that capture paint particles, and then vent paint fumes outside. Needless to say, these booths are pricey: they start at around $300. They also take up a substantial amount of space, can’t really be moved once installed, and tend to be noisy when in use. All of this makes them lousy choices for more casual hobbyists (who can’t justify the $300 expense) and for apartment or condo dwellers (who lack enough space to dedicate to a booth, and/or who have neighbors who’ll hear and object to the noise).

Homebrew solutions are possible – I’ve seen some creative things done with repurposed cardboard boxes – but aren’t always practical. Not everybody is capable of DIY’ing a quiet, portable ventilation solution with a small footprint.

Enter Model Expo’s Compact Spray Booth:

Obviously this isn't a showroom model; it's seen some fairly heavy use.

The booth consists of a metal housing from which extends a 16″ wide by 13″ high by 14″ deep spray area. The floor of the spray area is metal, and has rubber feet to prevent it from slipping. The sides and top of the spray area are translucent quarter-inch plastic, which allows a great deal of diffuse ambient light into the booth: illumination of the work space, particularly if you place the booth under reasonably strong overhead lighting, isn’t a problem.

What really makes this product is that it’s collapsible. The sides of the spray area fold down into the floor of the unit:

The floor then folds back into the housing:

Finally, the top of the spray area folds down and locks everything inside the housing. The end result? The spray booth, when not in use, is about the size of a shoebox. The unit weighs about four pounds total, and expanding or collapsing it takes less than a minute.

Two-liter bottle of Diet Pepsi in the frame for scale.

Additionally, the booth is modular: two booths can be snapped together, side-by-side, to double the width of the spray area.

The booth comes with a low-profile 7½” revolving turntable that can be stowed inside the housing, which also features a carry handle. A storage compartment in the housing conceals a 110V power cable that retracts at the press of a button, and a lighted power switch controls an exhaust fan that pushes 3 cubic meters (about 100 cubic feet) of air per minute.

When running, the unit is reasonably quiet (it claims to operate at 47 db, but I’ve measured it at 70-75 db – roughly equal in volume to a vacuum cleaner or a microwave oven). The fan exhaust is directly out of the back of the housing, but an optional flexible extension hose is available.

The poly-fiber filter element is replaceable, and is accessible when the booth is expanded. While Model Expo sells replacements for $12, the material is identical to what’s used in furnace filters, so it’s possible to save some quatloos by buying furnace filters at a home improvement store and trimming them to fit with scissors or a hobby knife.

The 3 cubic meters/minute air volume that the fan pushes is the OSHA-recommended minimum for a spray both. As such, this is clearly not an adequate ventilation solution for someone who’s going to be working with an airbrush for hours at a time. However, for more sparing use, it’s fantastic: I’ve used Vallejo and Reaper acrylics without any odor or mist escaping from the spray area, and it’s only after using the thing for several months that the filter is beginning to fail (as evidenced by dried paint particles getting through the filter and accumulating in the fan exhaust). With the extension hose attached and run out a window, I’d even consider using it with enamels or lacquers.

Model Expo sells this directly from their site for $199, but the same model is available at Amazon (under different brand names) for under $100 including the extension hose (which Model Expo sells separately, for an additional $30). At that price point, this is a hobbyist ventilation solution that’s awfully hard to beat.

The verdict (on a scale of highly recommended, recommended, neutral, and not recommended): highly recommended.

Were I using ordinary GW plastic bases, this step would be as simple as gluing the feet of each Marine to the base.  With resin, though – as noted in the first in this series of posts, I’m using Secret Weapon’s “urban street” bases – I have to use cyanoacrylate glue rather than plastic glue, and to ensure that the legs stay where I want them to while the CA glue cures, I’m going to actually pin the legs to the base.

I begin by using a pin vice with a 1/32″ drill bit to drill holes into both heels of each pair of legs.  These holes don’t need to be extraordinarily deep – about 1/16″ is plenty.

Next, I take a length of 21 gauge wire (I’m using head pins pilfered from my wife’s jewelrymaking supplies), apply a dab of CA glue to one and of it, and seat it into one of the holes.  Then, using my flush cutters, I trim the exposed wire so that a good quarter-inch of length extends from the bottom of the Marine’s foot.

I repeat this process on the other foot.

By the time I do this for each of the ten Marines in the squad, the glue holding the pins in the first Marine’s legs ought to have cured enough that I can proceed.  First, I select the base I want to work with, and determine approximately where I want the Marine to be standing on the base.  Next, I apply a tiny dab of paint, in a high-contrast color (since most resin is a kind of medium gray, reds and bright blues or greens work particularly well), to the end of each exposed pin.

Then, before the paint can dry, I touch the pins to the base in the position I’ve selected.  This will leave two high-contrast dots on the surface of the base that indicate where I should drill into it.

Using the 1/32″ bit, I drill into the base beneath each dot of paint.  Rather than using the pin vice, here, I drive the bit with a Dremel tool on a low setting for the sake of speed.  It’s important to stay in control, though: the bases are about 1/8″ thick, and so the holes only need to be half to two-thirds that deep.

At this point I dry-fit the legs to the base, to make sure everything lines up properly.  The pins, remember, are about a quarter-inch in length, which is substantially longer than I need; this is to give me enough length to bend them, to make minor fitting adjustments.  Once I’m confident that everything fits well, I cut off the excess length and apply a spot of glue to the pins and the Marines’ feet.

Now it’s a simple matter of inserting the pins into the holes until the glue-covered feet are flush against the surface of the base.  Note that CA glue doesn’t always dry clear, so it’s important to be sparing with it: a little will go a long way.

Normal CA glue bonds quite fast, so within a few minutes I’m ready to move on to assembly.

While iMovie is cool and all, I do have new respect for what Les has done: producing a reasonably high-quality video, including laying down a soundtrack and decent voiceovers, is pretty time-consuming. As such I’m not sure how regularly I’m going to be able to do it: I’d prefer to spend time actually working on the hobby than working on videos chronicling and demonstrating the hobby. And quite honestly it’s a pain in the ass to work around a camcorder in my workspace. Nevertheless, I’ll try to share some of these techniques as I can.

First up: a companion video to my WIP prep post from a couple days ago. Enjoy.

De-Spruing

The parts of an injection-molded plastic model come on plastic frame called sprues. “De-spruing” is simply the process of removing the parts from these frames.

I have three tools in my de-spruing arsenal, the most important of which is a high-end pair of flush cutters – Lindstrom RX8148‘s. These are designed for precision electronics work and jewelrymaking, and have two features that I find useful. First, the head of the cutters is tapered and relieved. Essentially, both sides of the head are tapered diagonally, and then the bottom of each tapered wedge is cut away. This maximizes the cutters’ accessibility: the head can get into really tight spaces. Second, the cutters have an “ultra-flush” edge, designed to almost completely do away with the bevelled “pinch” that you typically get with cutters. Now, because these cutters are designed for use with copper wire, they’ll still leave scars on a material as soft as plastic. But the “ultra-flush” edge helps keep those scars to a minimum, that I can easily clean up later.

The head of the Lindstrom cutters.

The second tool in my de-spruing arsenal is a good, sharp hobby knife. It can solve virtually any cutting problem that the flush cutters can’t.

The third tool isn’t really for de-spruing per se, but more for keeping things manageable. As I de-sprue parts, I often find that the remaining plastic starts to get in my way. Rather than using the flush cutters to chunk apart these thick plastic rods, I keep a cheapie set of heavy-duty cutters to do this work.

One hand on the cutters, one hand on the sprue, and a third hand on the camera. For my next trick...

When cutting parts from sprues I try to cut as close to the part as possible (with the flush side of the cut toward the part) while keeping in mind that it’s better to err on the side of not cutting enough, than on the side of cutting too much. This is because I can always go back later, and cut or file or sand away a little bit of extra plastic. If I take away too much plastic, on the other hand, about the only thing I can do is try to effect a repair with modeling putty. And I suck at sculpting modeling putty.

Cleaning

Before I can apply any paint to the models it’s necessary to clean them. This is a consequence of the processes used in manufacturing cast plastic and resin models: the manufacturers apply a lubricant “mold release” to the molds prior to filling them with plastic or resin, which (sort of like why, when baking a cake, you’d grease the pan before adding the batter) makes it easier to extract the pieces from the molds once the contents harden. The problem is that some of this lubricant can remain on the pieces after they’re removed from the molds, and if it’s not removed it can prevent primer and paint from adhering to the models.

Theoretically this step could be left until after the models are fully assembled. As a practical matter, though, that’s not always ideal: while fully-assembled Tactical Marines are pretty easy to handle, cleaning a fully-assembled vehicle would be unwieldy. As such I habitually clean everything before assembly. It’s just easier that way.

The most straightforward way to clean the parts is to gently scrub them with an old, soft-bristled toothbrush in a bath of warm, soapy (ordinary dishsoap will do) water, and then rinse them off. Experience has taught me that it’s better to do this in a small basin than in the sink: the combination of small parts, a drain, and Murphy’s Law is nothing I like to mess with, even if I make a point of leaving the parts attached to their sprues.

An alternative to the toothbrush, available for a little bit of money, is an ultrasonic cleaner. These work by using high-frequency sound waves to agitate cleaning solution (which usually consists of a special detergent heavily diluted in water). This produces microscopic bubbles that peel contaminants (like mold release) off the items immersed in the solution. The major advantage of an ultrasonic cleaner is that it’s a time- and labor-saving device: you simply fill the tank with cleaning solution, immerse the parts you want cleaned, turn it on, walk away, and ten minutes later come back to parts that are ready to be rinsed off. Additionally, inasmuch as the target market for ultrasonic cleaners consists largely of people who want to clean jewelry and watches, the cleaners tend to come with baskets and suchlike to prevent small parts from escaping into the tank. Downsides? Aside from the cost, the tanks in consumer ultrasonic cleaners are relatively small – usually in the ballpark of a liter or two. This means that there’s a limited amount of space in which to immerse parts, so larger cleaning jobs may need to be broken up into multiple segments.

Immersed in the basket.

I’ve gone the ultrasonic cleaner route (both for cleaning the plastic parts and for cleaning my airbrushes). I’ve found that I can minimize how extensively I have to segment my cleaning jobs by removing the parts from their sprues as much as practicable. My cleaner’s internal basket does a great job of keeping the parts together, and also works as a kind of colander when I’m ready to rinse the parts off.

And now removed to dry. The blue thing is a super-absorbant microfiber sponge contraption that I picked up at the supermarket.

Once the parts are cleaned and rinsed, I leave them out to air-dry on power towels or a lint-free cloth. I suppose I could speed up the drying process using a hair dryer or a heat gun, but I’ve never been under such time pressure that this became necessary.

Scraping, Filing, and Sanding

It happens that not every resin or plastic part is perfectly cast and molded: sometimes there are seams on the part where two halves of a mold were clamped together, or bits of “flash” where the mold didn’t completely contain the resin or molten plastic. It also happens that the process of despruing parts can leave behind cutting scars, or extraneous bits of plastic. So before assembling the parts into models I need to go about removing these imperfections.

There’s no real magic to this: I take a particular part, look for any problems, and then scrape, file, and/or sand away any imperfections until I’m satisfied with the appearance. For scraping, I use Micro-Mark’s seam scraper. This is more or less a metal handle and chuck that holds a tapered, triangular blade of tool steel. It’s perfect for scraping or scribing plastic, resin, and any soft metal. I use it on almost everything, in lieu of scraping with a hobby knife blade that I might cut my fingers open with.

Again with one hand on the part, one on the scraper, and one on the camera. Don't try this at home, kids.

For sanding I use Micro-Mark flex pads, which basically consist of different grits of fine sandpaper (from 150 grit to 12,000 grit) attached to flexible-but-still-fairly-stiff foam sticks in approximately the shape of emory boards. Normally I’ll use the seam scraper to eliminate the worst imperfections, and then the flex pads to sand and polish the scraped surfaces. For the resin bases I use the flex pads pretty much exclusively, since there’s not a lot to scrape.

There are two other pads, but these are the ones I use the most.

I don’t do a lot of filing of plastic or resin parts, because my experience has been that files tend to eat these softer materials too quickly to provide much control. Nevertheless, I keep a variety of needle files within reach, for dealing with the odd metal model or a particularly large and stubborn piece of flash.

There are several problem areas on Tactical Marine models that invariably seem to require some scraping and sanding. The legs of each model usually have a faint seam running all the way around, and the points at which the legs are cut from the sprue will sometimes require some cleanup as well.

Leg seams. If you look carefully you can see the seams on the inside of the leg, as well as those on the outside of the leg.

The arms of each model will have a similar visible seam. Here the work is a bit trickier because the mold line can sometimes run through the fingers, and overzealous sanding or scraping will result in the loss of detail.

Arm seams. Also shown: a cutting scar that will need to be scraped/sanded away.

While the shoulder pauldrons don’t have seams, they will invariably have small scars, where they’re separated from the sprue, that should be sanded away.

Scar on shoulder pauldrons. There's one on each side, because that's where the pauldron is cut from the sprue.

The edges of the backpacks will almost always have a visible seam, and, again, the points at which they’re separated from the sprue will need to be finished.

Seams on the backback. Annoyingly, these run all the way around.

The power armor helmets frequently have a visible seam that runs up one side, across the top, and down the other. Unfortunately this seam runs over the helmet relief, so, as with the arms, care is necessary to avoid scraping or sanding away detail.

Seams on the Marine Sergeant's helmet.

Finally, the various weapons – boltguns, missile launcher, and flamer – will have faint seams running down their length, that should be scraped or sanded away.

Seams on a boltgun. These are usually fairly easy to clean up, because they're fairly faint.

Once all the finishing work is done, the models are ready for basing and assembly.

Unit Configuration

Virtually every 40k unit offers a player some options with respect to the unit’s loadout of wargear.  I’ve learned that it’s worthwhile to make these choices up front rather than on the fly, since they almost always impact the assembly and sometimes the color palette as well.

Here I’ve chosen to build a squad of Tactical Marines, which I’m expanding from the five-Marine default to a full ten-Marine complement.  As such I have the option to give one Marine a special weapon and another Marine a heavy weapon in place of their boltguns.  Since I don’t have a particular role in mind for this squad, I’m choosing a generalist, mid-range loadout: a flamer (for dealing with unarmored infantry) and a missile launcher (for respectable anti-infantry and anti-materiel support).  Additionally, I’m replacing the Sergeant’s boltgun with a power sword, to give the squad a little extra punch against armored targets in close combat.  Except for the power sword, all of the optional wargear I’ve selected is available in the Tactical Squad kit, so I won’t have to do much in the way of bitz-hunting.

Basing

40k infantry units require bases, so I have a couple of decisions to make.  First, GW plastic bases or scenic resin bases?  The tradeoffs involve expense, flexibility, and appearance.  GW plastic bases come as part of the kits so don’t cost any extra, and they’re infinitely customizable with model railroad ballast and flock.  On the other hand, quality scenic resin bases, though they’re an additional expense, can provide a highly-detailed look that just isn’t achievable with the GW plastic bases.

The second decision I need to make is when to base the models: before painting them, or afterwards.  If I base the models before painting them, then I’ll have the stability of the bases throughout the painting process, but it also means that the bases will catch airbrush overspray or other slop that I’ll need to paint over later.  If I base the models after painting them, then I can paint the bases independently and set them aside; however, I’ll lack the stability of the bases while painting the models, and I’ll have to be extra careful to avoid pinning and/or gluing errors when I go to join my fully-painted models with their fully-painted bases.

I don’t find the added expense of resin bases to be a huge extravagance, and I prefer the unique, sculpted looks I can get from resin over anything I could produce with a plastic base, ballast, and flock.  I’m partial to the shattered cityscape feel of Secret Weapon’s “urban street” bases, so I’ll be using the 25mm bases (to the tune of $10) for my Tactical Marines.  Additionally, I’ll base the models before painting them, as I think having to paint the bases last is a small price to pay for the added stability while I’m painting the models themselves.

Assembly

When I begin to think about how the plastic models will go together, the first thing that comes up is the acquisition of any bitz necessary for my chosen unit configuration that aren’t available in the kit.  Here, the only thing I need is a power sword for my Marine Sergeant.  I could get this from a bitz reseller (I’ve had nothing but first-rate experiences with Battlewagon Bitz, and I’ve heard good things about Bitz Box), but it turns out that I have an extra power sword left over from an Assault Marines kit sitting in my personal bitz stash.  That’ll do nicely.

The second thing to think about is whether I want to use any of the optional, decorative bitz in the kit.  The Tactical Marines kit contains grenades, holstered bolt pistols, purity seals, and whatnot to jazz up the models.  Frankly I find this stuff a pain to work with: a lot of it only makes sense if attached around a Marine’s belt, but putting it there limits the degree to which you can pose the Marine’s arms.  Furthermore, none of it has any in-game effect, so it’s not as if punting on it hurts you in play.  I do, however, want to make my Marine Sergeant particularly distinctive, so I’m going to attach a loincloth bracketed by purity seals to the front of his belt.

Beyond that, the major concern is how far to take assembly before I start painting.  This topic requires some setup; bear with me.

There are manufacturers of multi-part models who, as they’re working out the assembly process for a given kit, do a reasonably good job of remembering that the poor bastard who bought the kit and put it together is eventually going to want to paint it, too.  GW, regrettably, is not one of these manufacturers.  An annoyingly common feature of GW kits is that fully assembling a model compromises (sometimes quite significantly) one’s ability to reach all the visible surfaces of the model with a paintbrush (never mind an airbrush).  Space Marine models are a good example: if you glue a Marine’s boltgun in place before painting him, you will have a bitch of a time trying to get at the chest detail of his power armor.

Partially assembling the models seems like a potential solution, but being too aggressive about partial assembly can complicate certain painting techniques (airbrushing zenithal highlights, in particular – it’s harder to achieve consistent tones across the model if it’s in too many pieces).  Moreover, a partially-assembled model needs to be masked, somehow, to prevent the remaining glue-points from getting covered with paint.  Yet since acrylic modeling paints cure as a film, it’s also necessary to prevent the masking material from getting filmed-over.  Otherwise you’ll have to cut away the film and risk damage to the rest of the paint job.

An ideal solution would be some sort of temporary adhesive that held the parts in place when necessary but allowed you to remove them to reach underlying detail.  This would have some of the same filming issues that you run into with masks, but no other downside.  Unfortunately I’ve searched in vain for something that will do the job: PVA glue cures too slowly and doesn’t have enough bond strength; low-temp hot glue gets everywhere and is a pain in the ass to peel off; and Microscale Liquitape, once dry, has to be removed with paint thinner, risking extreme damage to the paint job.

That brings me back to the partial assembly method as the least-bad alternative.  I’m going to try to pick my spots, though, to minimize my downside exposure.

One potential problem area for every Tactical Marine model is the backpack.  For one thing, each backpack has a small area of exposed cabling just above and behind the Marine’s helmet; this can be a bit of a pain to get at.  For another, depending on how the model is posed, the rounded stabilizing jets of the backpack can obscure parts of the Marine’s shoulder pauldrons, making it difficult to paint and/or apply decals to those areas.  I think these issues are manageable, though, so I’ll attach the backpacks prior to priming and painting.

I described the boltgun issue above, and there’s really no good way around it.  I’m going to refrain from gluing them in until after I’ve painted the chest detail on those models (doing so also gives me an opportunity to paint the detail on the boltguns themselves).  The same goes for the flamer.  The good news here is that the weapons won’t be the same color as the power armor, so leaving them off isn’t going to complicate shading the armor.

The Marine Sergeant, on the other hand, carries his bolt pistol and his power sword out away from his body, where they don’t interfere with my ability to get at the rest of the model.  As such he’s the only model I’ll fully assemble to begin with.

That leaves the Marine with the missile launcher.  This is dicey because the missile launcher tube and the Marine’s right arm are one piece of plastic, while the Marine’s left arm reaches across his body to support the launcher.  In other words, I can’t just leave off the weapon to preserve my access to the chest detail; I need to leave off the Marine’s arms, too.  And that’s going to significantly complicate shading the power armor.  I’ll have to try to visually match the shading on the body to the shading on the (not-yet-attached) arms, and somehow fake the zenithal shadows that the arms would normally generate.

Color Palette

Because these are Blood Angels, I already have a general idea what my color palette is going to consist of.  The Marines’ power armor will be red, their eye lenses will be green, detail on the models will be black and silver, and so on.  What I want to do here is translate that general color scheme into a fairly detailed list of the paints I’ll be using, and for what.  Note that this isn’t a detailed description of technique: at this point I’m just trying to figure out which paints I’ll need to have on my desk once I get started.

A general word about paints, first.  I use mostly Vallejo Game Color, rather than GW/Citadel, paints.  This isn’t religion; it’s just that the GW/Citadel paints tend to be a little more expensive on a $/ml basis, and they come in pots whereas Vallejo paints come in dropper bottles.  Dropper bottles are more airbrush-friendly, and allow me to dispense only as much paint as I need without exposing the rest of the contents of the container to the air.

I also use Vallejo Model Air paints for some of the metallic work.  Because these paints are specially formulated for use in airbrushes with no additional thinning, they employ exceptionally finely-ground pigments.  This means, with metallics, you get less of the chunky glitter effect that other paints sometimes produce.  Also, although the Model Air paints are intended for use in airbrushes, they work just fine with regular paintbrushes too.

Primer. One primes models for the principal purpose of creating a micro-texture to improve paint adhesion.  Primer does come in different colors, though, so it’s worth mentioning here.

Companies like Army Painter have started selling color primers, and while these have generally received positive reviews from hobbyists their availability is never a sure thing.  As such I stick with the neutrals: spray primers, including Vallejo’s acrylic polyurethane primers, are almost always available in white, black, and gray, so if I happen to run out of primer midway through a project I’m not risking being unable to find a color match.

White primer tends to brighten the colors laid down on top of it.  Black primer tends to mute and darken the colors laid down on top of it.  Gray primer is the middle-of-the-road and, in my view, the best choice for most applications.  And since I’m shooting for something between bright, heraldic colors and subdued military hues, it’s what I’ll use here: Vallejo acrylic polyurethane surface primer in gray.

Power Armor. Red, the principal color of the Blood Angels chapter, had historically been a challenging color to paint owing to the relative weakness of red pigments in most modeling paints.  Then GW came out with their Foundation paints which included Mechrite Red (Vallejo has since followed suit by releasing Extra Opaque paints which include Heavy Red), and the world changed.  Now, instead of spending a lot of time and energy just trying to achieve decent coverage, I have the luxury to fuss about exactly what shade of red I prefer.

At one end of the spectrum is the GW ‘Eavy Metal approach, illustrated by the photos in the Blood Angels codex.  The dominant red in these models is quite bright, almost orange.  It really emphasizes the heraldic nature of Space Marines’ livery, though at the risk of sometimes seeming cartoonish.

At the other end of the spectrum is the “fuck this, these are supposed to be Blood Angels” approach that’s well-represented on the Internet.  Precise methods vary, but the common theme is a dominant red that’s substantially more muted, toward either purple or brown (sometimes, as in Eggroll’s Blood Angels, to the point of seeming almost antiqued).

I’m so hesitant about the sometimes-cartoonishness of the ‘Eavy Metal approach that I initially embraced the fuck-this approach and painted a Land Speeder and a squad of Tactical Marines in that style.  But the thing about fuck-this: it results in models that almost aren’t recognizably Blood Angels, and more closely resemble Angels Vermillion or Blood Ravens.  What I really want is something closer to the ‘Eavy Metal style, just toned down a bit.

To achieve that, I’ll start with VGC Heavy Red as my base red.  For my highlights I’ll use VGC Bloody Red, VGC Hot Orange, and VGC Filthy Brown.  I’ll use VGC Red Ink as a filter to tone down the orange and pull the shades together, and VGC Black Ink and VGC Sepia Ink to shade the recesses in and around the armor plates.

Body Detail. The chest aquila, the flexible joints in the power armor (elbows, knees, etc.), the backpack exhaust ports, the mouth plates, and the shoulder pauldrons on the Marine Sergeant are all VGC Black, with highlights of VGC Cold Grey.  The backpack cabling is also based VGC Black.

Most of the metal detail, including the skulls on the Marines’ chest aquila, is silver: I’ll use VMA Gun as a base, shade with VGC Black Ink, and then highlight with VMA Steel and VMA Silver.  The exception is the Marine Sergeant’s livery, which includes some gold.  There, I’ll use VGC Charred Brown as a base, VMA Gold, VMA Silver, and VGC Sepia Ink.

I’ll give the loincloth worn by the Marine Sergeant a VGC Earth base, and VGC Khaki and VGC Bonewhite highlights.

Weapons. The bolt weapons, the flamer, and the missile launcher are all painted the same colors: the casings are VGC Black with VGC Cold Grey highlights, while the metal uses VMA Gun, VGC Black Ink for depth, and VGC Steel highlights.  I’m going to do the blade of the power sword in an alternating gradient, using VGC Dead White, VGC Turquoise, and VGC Dark Blue.

Helmet Lenses and Optics. Color theory tells us that green is a complementary color (in layman’s terms, “a really awesome contrasting color”) of red, so it’s a perfect choice for all of the backlit glass on the model.  My base green will be VGC Dark Green, with highlights of VGC Sick Green and VGC Scorpy Green, and an extreme highlight of VGC Dead White.

Purity Seals. There are two parts to purity seals: the wax, and the parchment.  An argument can be made for painting the wax green, to give it contrast against the red of the power armor.  I’m a traditionalist, though, so I’ll use VGC Scarlett Red for my base red and VGC Bloody Red and VGC Bonewhite for my highlights.  I’ll do the parchment with a VGC Bronze Flesh base, and then highlights of VGC Bonewhite and VGC Dead White.  After it’s painted, I’ll add the script with .20mm Sakura Micron pens – predominantly black, but perhaps also red and brown.

Bases. Since, as I mentioned above, I’m going for a “shattered cityscape” vibe with my basing, I’m going to stick to the dark and mid-tone neutral colors of urbania.  This should contrast nicely with the bright red of the Marines’ power armor.  My base tone will be VGC Heavy Charcoal; I’ll use VGC Black Green Ink for some depth, and VGC Cold Grey, VGC Stonewall Grey, and VGC Bonewhite for highlights.

I do have a secondary goal for them, though, that I expect will color the writing a little bit.  Let me try to explain.

While the Internet is absolutely crawling with fantastic information about miniatures modeling and painting, there do not seem to be very many thorough, annotated build guides for even popular 40k models, from initial assembly all the way through painting.  The consequence of this is that anybody who wants to get high-quality results is going to have to do a substantial amount of data-sifting, punctuated with experimentation, before he or she can find a satisfactory, repeatable approach to these builds.

I’d like to say that I’m a completely altruistic soul trying to spare other people that pain, but that would be a disgraceful lie.  Certainly, I’m thrilled if other people can make use of these posts as guides.  But as much as I’m writing them for other people, I’m also writing them for me.  There are things in my life that I am relentlessly organized about, but my wargaming hobby is not one of those things.  If I fail to write this stuff down, the information will leak out of my ears while I’m sleeping, and I will be forced to go through the process of data-sifting and experimentation all over again.  That would suck, a lot.

On the workbench right now I have a ten-man squad of tactical marines.  I’m thinking to build them a Rhino as a dedicated transport option next, and then we’ll see.  Step-by-step project log posts to follow (for real, this time).

It’s clear that Justin has been experimenting with weathering techniques for A Long Time™, and he’s extremely self-effacing: he was happy to admit to standing on the shoulders of traditional scale modeling enthusiasts, videos of whose work litter YouTube.  One of the things that Justin stressed was the value of reference photos: even though sci-fi wargamers are frequently modeling tanks that are fighting on alien worlds, we can nevertheless get useful ideas of how vehicles actually weather, and what it looks like.

Justin first demonstrated priming: while he acknowledged color primers, he seemed to be of the view that the principal objectives of priming are (a) revealing hidden mold lines and other imperfections in the model, and (b) creativing a microtexture for paint to adhere to.  As such he recommended using primer quite sparingly, as overdoing it compromises those objectives.  I’m not entirely sure I agree with this.

He next demonstrated how to create a simple three-color camo scheme using spray paints and modeling putty.  Simple stuff: lay down a base color over the primer, then mask off areas using the putty.  Lay down a second color over the first, then add additional putty masks.  Then lay down a third color.  After everything’s dry peel up the masks, and you end up with a fairly striking result.

Easy three-color camo through masking.

This seems best for models at 1/72 scale or bigger; at smaller scales, it’s going to be significantly harder to create fine enough putty masks to avoid the pattern looking chunky.

After that, Justin showed how to create chipping effects using what he called the “hairspray technique,” demonstrating on a Leman Russ tank.  He laid down an intermediate gray over primer (noting that worn metal is gray, not shiny), and once that was dry liberally coated with entire model with unscented hairspray.  With the hairspray still wet, he sprinkled superfine salt over the surfaces that would be exposed to wear.

Leman Russ hull, covered in hairspray and salt.

The salt crystals adhered to the hairspray, and after the hairspray dried Justin used an airbrush to apply an intermediate green basecoat, followed by zenithal highlights and shadows of lighter and darker green.  Once that was dry, he proceeded to “scrub” away the salt with a toothbrush, which produced a chipping effect that revealed the gray undercoat through the green basecoat.

The results of the "hairspray method."

Next he dabbed the model with water, which soaked through the green basecoat and turned the dried hairspray gummy again; from there, he lightly scraped the model with a toothpick, and pull up more of the green basecoat to show more of the gray undercoat.

The "edge highlighting" on the turret accomplished via a toothpick.

Justin made clear that this “hairspray method” need not be confined to just two colors: one could separate three or more colors, using multiple layers of hairspray, to achieve subtle rusting effects and the like.

The next portion of the workshop was dedicated to achieving weathering effects with water-miscible oil paints.  Justin showed three techniques.  The first was an oil “filter” – essentially a thin wash using the oils rather than acrylics.  Justin recommended this on the basis that the acrylic paint washes are prone to pooling and don’t necessarily stay put as they dry, whereas oils will go only where you put them and will quite happily stay put on top of a thin layer of gloss varnish.

The second technique was a more traditional panel wash or spot, laying down lines and spots of color to suggest shadow or rust, or even just panel lines.  Again, the advantage of oils is that they go where they’re told and stay put, rather than wandering around the model.

The third technique was the most interesting — directional streaks.  Rather than diluting the oil paints with water, Justin simply dotted wear-colored paint directly onto the model in locations where that would accumulate dirt, rust, and grime… and then dragged that paint with a brush in the direction of runoff or wind.  On a tank hull, for example, rainwater would tend to carry rust and grunge downwards from the areas it initially collected, and using the oils to produce that effect is quite striking.

Rust streaks, achieved with oil paint.

The final portion of the workshop was given over to weathering pigments.  One of the things I really appreciated was that though Justin was representing Secret Weapon, which produces and sells pigments, he pretty much refused to bag on his competitors aside from to say that he thought Tamiya weathering products (the sticks and the compacts) were poor value.  He praised both MIG and Vallejo products while differentiating Secret Weapon’s line.  I was sufficiently impressed that I’ll be adding a banner link to Secret Weapon, to carry the flag.

After strongly encouraging everyone to make pigments the absolute final step in modeling, Justin showed four different examples of using pigments.  He used light and medium gray pigments to simulate accumulated ash on the Leman Russ glacis (applying them with an old paint brush, and then using rubbing alcohol as a fixative).  He also showed using rust-colored pigments to hint at rust lines accumulating in the corners of armor panels.  The other two demonstrations, though, were significantly more striking.

Rust on an exhaust pipe was achieved by first painting the pipe a terracotta color with undiluted water-miscible oil.  Without waiting for the oil paint to dry, Justin sprinkled about six different shades of brown, red, and purple pigments onto the painted area, simulating the different colors that appear in heavily-rusted metals.  The exhaust pipe ended up looking almost rusted-through.

Rust on an exhaust pipe, using oils and pigments.

However, the final demonstration was arguably even cooler, and definitely more practical: realistic looking tank treads.  Justin began by painting the treads black with thinned acrylic paint.  After the acrylic dried, he began “painting” pigment onto the treads: at first heavily using a dark brown color, and then lighter with an intermediate brown, and then lighter still with a light clay color.  This achieved a drying mud effect, and what was nifty about it was that neatness wasn’t necessarily desirable given that pigment streaks that escaped the treads onto the hull simply looked like the dirt had splashed over.  The final pigment, however, blew my mind: Justin dipped his fingertip in a fine graphite pigment and then ran it lightly over the raised surfaces of the treads.  The result?  The suggestion of worn metal underneath all that dirt.

Dirty, worn treads with weathering pigments.

All in all it was a fantastic day, and I’m hoping that Justin will do another workshop again soon.  Even if he mostly goes over the same material, I’m sure I’ll get value out of it; if nothing else I’d welcome the opportunity to take more notes and more pictures.