Monthly Archives: May 2017

Making Strides Forward

For all that I love the Blacktron, Classic Space is still what first drew me to LEGO and really made me love it. I’d have enjoyed LEGO if the Space theme hadn’t existed (I’d have been a Castle fan instead) but the fact that it was spaceships and travel to other planets sealed the deal for me.

So naturally, coming back to LEGO as an adult, my first impulse is still to Build A Spaceship. Benny from the LEGO Movie strikes a chord with me; like him, I find that the answer to a lot of problems could well be “build a spaceship”. Need to get somewhere really fast? Build a really fast spaceship! Need to protect yourself? Build a really shooty armoured spaceship! Relationship trouble? Build a spaceship together! Building a spaceship makes you happy, and working together on something will help solve or alleviate the issue.

For all that, though, I still face limitations in my building. I’m not going to be building any Seriously Huge Investments in Pieces any time soon, unfortunately; though I might be able to technically pull something off it would be a really crappy looking Rainbow Warrior, and just no.

The problem is that while our household has a reasonable array of colours with which to build, the amount of bricks in any one colour is not huge, especially by AFOL standards. I’m nearer the low end of the economic ladder than the top, and I don’t feel I can reasonably justify laying out $200+ for any of the huge sets with the really large elements and numerous minifigures that are so useful for that sort of large-scale building. When I buy LEGO bricks, it’s not in the huge job lots I would need for vast SNOTwork landscapes or 100-stud-plus-long starships.

So this smallish space fighter represents my largest Neoclassic creation to date. Even at microscale it hasn’t really got any bigger than this yet.

The thing is, SNOT-type shipbuilding is more piece-intensive than conventional building, and while my collection of blue is growing, it’s in no way to be considered large. The decision to build this with all-SNOT construction was the right one artistically, but it did stretch my piece inventory (surprisingly, in the smallest bricks like 1×1 blue plates).

Still, it’s turned out rather nice. As AFOL-built Neoclassic ships go I guess it’s pretty vanilla, but as a stepping-stone to hopefully greater things it’ll certainly work.

After toying with several different names (it was nearly the Oberon-class or the Andromeda-class) I’m going with Telcontar-class Space Superiority Fighter. Bonus points if you can catch the reference!

~~~

The Telcontar-class is a series of transatmospheric space superiority fighters of the Federation. On the larger side for the agile space superiority type, unlike many such vessel classes the Telcontar comes with wings and transatmospheric engines enabling operation from atmosphered planets as well as airless moons, starbases and space carriers.

Much of the “extra” mass, in fact, is concerned with such systems, particularly the extra reaction mass needed to attain escape velocity from planets with sufficient gravity to support an atmosphere.

This gives orbitally- and transorbitally-launched Telcontars an acceleration and/or range advantage over space fighters not designed to land, although most of those have a manoeuvre advantage over winged, atmosphere-capable ships.

The robust design, operational versatility and comparatively high armament ratio make the Telcontar-class a favourite with colonial space forces, and most Telcontars bear the blue and grey livery of the Federation’s Colonial Space Fleet rather than the black and blue of the centralised Space Police fleet or the predominantly white “Futuron Fleet” of the Federation Core Worlds.

The Telcontars’ primary armament of four heavy lasers and six secondary proton cannons (including two rear-facing) make it one of the few Colonial Fleet space fighters able to go toe-to-toe with Space Police Vipers; in inter-service wargame exercises, this fact has earned the “second class” Colonial Fleet a grudging respect.

Advertisements

The Darth Mall

One of the great things about LEGO is the opportunity to be silly. And it doesn’t get much sillier than ridiculous puns.

I’ve joked about our local shopping centre being “the Darth Mall”, usually around Christmas when it really is. So when considering whether to get the Duel on Naboo set with birthday money, I had to have a go at building it for real.

The thing is, C-3PO and R2-D2 make a far better pair of shoppers than Darth Maul.

Obviously there’s not a lot to say about this sort of creation, but I’m quite pleased with the shopping trolley.

Alienate This

Of all the six first-generation Blacktron sets, the Alienator has probably had the most separate update attempts.

There are reasons for this.

In 1987 when the Blacktron first made their appearance, the Alienator was my least-favourite of their hardware, even including the little Meteor Monitor that presaged the disappointing “Blacktron Future Generation” colours by including white.

The original Alienator

It was those legs that got me.

Normally I’m a fan of legged vehicles, especially in LEGO form, but even as an early-teenaged child I had enough of an inner biologist that I wanted something that bent at the hips and knees. That twist-and-slide zombie shuffle didn’t do anything for me. To my mind, the capabilities of the bricks they had back then meant that the world wasn’t ready for LEGO mechs. I didn’t like any of the various legged Classic Space vehicles.

Cut to the present and my post-Dark Age return to building as an AFOL, and we have all kinds of useful element types that didn’t exist back then. Not least of these are the various kinds of balljoint elements.

Now Alienate This!

The whole Bionicle/CCBS/”constraction” thing came in while I was away, and to this day that building style is a complete black box to me and effectively a separate community. I personally get bored with endless variations on the human figure, and lacking any background I neither know nor care whether I’m looking at the Toa of Cut-Price Furniture or the Protector of Cyborg Hippoes. Or whatever it is the real ones are supposed to be called.

But the various balljoint elements with studs add so many capabilities to my arsenal of techniques that they’ve nearly become essential to my building. I literally couldn’t build two thirds of what I build without them.

Now that we have the capability to build a more realistic jointed leg, an Alienator update is a really good idea, and just about every TFOL/AFOL Blacktron fan seems to build one at some point.

The various neo-Alienators out there seem to fall on a spectrum from stuff like this, which is very close in design to the original apart from the realistic legs, to stuff like this, which is awesome but radically divergent from the original, being much larger and flashier.

Mine’s somewhere in between. More “inspired by” the original than strictly colouring inside the lines, its long, spindly insectile legs and big round feet combine to give it a rather Wellsian War of the Worlds vibe, like a Blacktron take on the Martian Fighting Machine. It’s ended up with a lot more cockpit, proportionally speaking, than the Alienator 1.0.

I was actually initially anticipating a larger vehicle with a more extensive rear section, but realising that I was bored with the conventional daisy-chain mode of balljoint connection I decided to experiment with using the central ball that is normally used for attaching the greaves elements as a primary connection point. That pulled the whole centre of balance forward and necessitated a much abbreviated rear section.

You’ll of course have noticed the out-of-place dark red curved element. Even with the partial element sorting I’ve managed since this post, I can’t find the other black one that I know I’ve got, so I had to use a different colour. The same goes for the dark grey Bionicle limb rod at the back.

I’m claiming battle damage. Some Space Police disruptor weapon changing the chemical composition of the hull-metal.

The Martian War Machine-esque Bauplan got me thinking that it needed a wrecked spaceship to loom menacingly over, so the scene-setting accessories are a row of rocks and a partial Space Police-coloured wreck. Take that, nasty Space Police!

Of course, now I want to build a full on Blacktron-liveried war tripod à la War of the Worlds.

Maybe later; I’m going off on holiday in less than a week. And I’ll probably have forgotten all about Blacktron Martians by the time I get back.

Fatal Battraxion

The original Battrax

The Blacktron Battrax always seemed to be oddly named. The other Blacktron I vehicles are named meaningful things like “Invader” and “Renegade”, but what in intergalactic space is a battrax?

Then there’s that “-trax” element to the name, apparently standing in opposition to the fact that it doesn’t have tracks. What’s up with that?

Well, 1980s LEGO design processes being the black box that they were, we don’t know what happened when they were developing the set. Maybe the original concept model did have tracks, and they got rid of them to bring costs down.

Maybe someone involved in these things thought it looked like a sort of interplanetary Batmobile and inserted a subtle reference in calling it a “Bat-track”.

The Battrax 2.0

Updating the Battrax seemed like an eminently worthwhile use of my new trans yellow windscreen element. I could have gone with an Invader update, but I’ve been crying out to use all four of those small caterpillar tracks at once for some time now. And making the Battrax how I think it ought to be, with tracks, was a good opportunity.

Like the original, the cockpit section attaches to the main body of the vehicle with pin fasteners. Unlike the original, the back section does not do likewise. This ability to produce multiple configurations from the same basic set without disassembling the model was one of the features of the subtheme, and I’ve partially reprised it here with my detachable cockpit scoutship.

The rear section may not detach from the main body and stick to the cockpit to make a spaceship, but my Battrax 2.0 has a rear section that opens up to reveal a small workstation and a fuel drum.

Not having a proper Blacktron (by which I mean first-generation Blacktron, not those white-suited “Blacktron Future Generation” impostors) astronaut, I’ve done what any sensible master-builder wannabe would do: I’ve adapted.

That diagonal-zippered black torso from some forgotten Town set (I’ve got no idea where I acquired these from) makes a decent flightsuit, that particular Castle helm is the closest I can currently come to a Blacktron helmet, and I’ve assembled a backpack out of a few small elements. I hope you approve; it’s the best I can do right now. Blacktron astronauts are on my “when I find them for a price I feel I can justify to my wife” purchase list, but when you don’t have a functional PayPal account (long story involving a lost password and a change of phone number) you can’t always get the cheapest prices on Bricklink. Oh well.

Anyway, this is my Battrax 2.0. As far as an in-universe reason for its name goes, I’m thinking the battrax is some sort of alien predator. It makes sense. We name military vehicles after animals: Scorpion, Black Panther, Leopard, Maus… Or cars, for that matter: Jaguar, Impala, Tiburon…

Everybody Build the Dinosaur

A 31058 Mighty Dinosaurs alternate build

31058 Parasaurolophus alternate build

Being something of a prehistory enthusiast as well as a fan of LEGO’s Creator Creatures line and inveterate MOCmaker, naturally the new 31058 Mighty Dinosaurs set was on my “must get” list. Not only does the set include instructions three fairly cool-looking dinosaurs (well, “two dinosaurs and one extinct flying reptile”, as my inner precisionist palaeontology nerd insists), but the set includes two awesome new element types including one I’ve been wishing existed for a couple of years at least, and there’s a free downloadable fourth set of instructions to build another dinosaur as well.

Other people have reviewed the set and done an excellent job of it, and that’s not really my purpose here. No; my purpose is MOCmaking.

There are instructions for four dinosaurs (using the populist definition) here, plus there’s an Ankylosaurus MOC alternate build floating around on the Internet with instructions, too. Can we build a sixth alternate while staying with the dinosaur theme?

I think so.

A therapod, a ceratopsian, a pterosaur, a sauropod and an ankylosaur gives a pretty good overview of some of the Mesozoic dinosaur-and-hangers-on families. What else could we build?

Stegosaurus being my favourite dinosaur (swapped out from my childhood fave Triceratops; how it ties in with my ongoing love of heroes with brain to love a dinosaur that barely has one I’m not sure), that was my initial thought. But the stegosaur family have too many plates and spikes and fiddly bits that I can certainly do, just probably not with only the elements from this set. 31062’s relative paucity of SNOTability makes those back plates a major headache.

Next I contemplated a pliosaur. It would round out the triad of land, sea and air nicely, even if the marine reptiles are more closely related to modern lizards and snakes than they are to dinosaurs.

While this is certainly a viable option, and I still might, I suspect that it would end up basically reprising the Tyrannosaurus except with a short tail and fins instead of legs. I can do it, but I’d like my first alternate of this set to be a little more creative than that.

No; I’m thinking Hadrosaur.

Put like that it sounds like an advertising jingle for a Mesozoic restaurant, but the hadrosaurs have a lot of possibilities. They’re a bit underrepresented in LEGO dinosaur sets, probably because most kids would rather build something with cool fangs or horns or tail clubs or flying ability. When your anti-predator strategy is to run like a rabbit or disappear into the swamp, most dinosaur-fan children are going to prefer something a bit more assertive.

Plus they were one of the most successful dinosaur groups of the Cretaceous period. There were quite a number of different “duck-billed dinosaurs” filling a lot of herbivore niches. Your T. rex has to have something to eat, right?

Parasaurolophus seemed to have a good balance between buildability and visual interest, so I started with that incarnation of the Hadrosauria.

Obviously the body shares some basic Bauplan characteristics with the T. rex, but I’ve done several things very differently, in part because I needed the elements elsewhere, but also because I wanted to differentiate it from the official set’s primary build.

And because I’ve learned from the last time I posted one of these alternate builds, when I didn’t have instructions for it, this time I’ve included a set of assembly photos (technically, “disassembly photos”; they were taken in reverse order after I had already built this). They aren’t quite as step-by-step as something the LEGO Group would write, but anyone should be able to follow them to assemble the Parasaurolophus.

On a cautionary note, this model isn’t nearly as robust as any of the originals, but the available elements left me little choice in the matter. It’ll hold together for display and gentle play, but You Have Been Warned.

Best of all, the set also allows you to make at least a couple of additional crests, allowing your Parasaurolophus to be a Corythosaurus or Tsingtaosaurus instead. Or probably an Anatosaurus with no crest at all.  I haven’t included pics of these.  You’re capable people.  Work it out.

Building a Parasaurolophus from scratch myself, I would have done a lot of things differently, but restricted as I chose to be to the elements of this set alone, I couldn’t always do things the way they logically needed to be done. The arms in particular were an unhappy compromise based on what bricks I had left over, but they more or less work. They’re no worse than those of the T. rex, but a couple more small balljoints instead of the clip fasteners would have gone down a treat.

Anyway, here follow those assembly photos I mentioned:

                          

Blue

I mostly built this little mech to showcase my newly-acquired blue Classic astronaut.

It also includes several other new-acquisition elements, such as the windscreen and the blue Bionicle-style arm/leg shells, but basically it’s a stage on which the blue astronaut can strut his stuff.

Now, some Neoclassic builders eschew the use of any astronauts except the original red- and white-suited ones. I guess this follows the general pattern set by Peter Reid and Tim Goddard, but even they employ yellow-suited minifigures in LEGO Space: Building the Future, so I see no reason at all to have to follow that arbitrary rule for it to be an “official”, “allowed” Neoclassic creation.

Besides, the Classic Space theme included them, didn’t it?

And anyway, I still don’t have a red or a white astronaut to use.

The question of what the different suit colours represent is one of the most endlessly-revisited questions of the whole theme. With no official story for the theme and no official explanation at the time, it was left up to the individual to do their own interpreting.

Since then, various classification schemes have been floated, one coming from the LEGO Ideas page which is operated by LEGO Group staff, and a different one on the Brickset forum which purports to be from Classic Space theme designer Jens Knudsen.

The fact that both of these have good grounds for being “official”, yet are different, kind of tells us there isn’t an official version and even the LEGO Group of the time didn’t have anything in particular in mind.

To my mind, both schemes have some nonsensical features. “Black astronauts are spies” is my particular “bang your head on your desk” initiator: Spies have their own uniform so you can tell who they are? I ‘ve always thought that black is a very Security colour myself.

The Reid/Goddard scheme has the advantage of simplicity: red astronauts are pilots, white astronauts are ground crew. You can make a reasonable case for this division from the earliest sets, if you’re prepared to classify a lot of the open spacecraft as suborbital “skimmers”, but again, that’s an arbitrary “make it work” fix that is called into question by the names of some sets, like “442 Space Shuttle”.

“Red astronauts are pilots” is borrowed a lot, though, because almost all of the really spaceshipy early Classic Space models included at least one. That makes the engineers the white-suited ones, however, and white just seems a really lousy colour of suit for the grease monkeys. I usually reverse that classification, with the white astronauts being the pilots and the red astronauts being soldiers or engineers.

The yellow astronauts are often assumed to be scientists, again following Goddard and Reid. My first yellow astronauts as a kid came from the 6930 Space Supply Station set; what are scientists doing running the lunar equivalent of a warehouse and pump station? It seems like a waste of talent.  Also, “pilot” red-suits in a ground station?

The yellow astronauts should be something not very cool, because as a kid the yellow-suits-on-yellow-skin made them look too much like they were weirdly naked. With their introduction in the Supply Station, maybe these are the quartermasters’ corps. But it makes little sense for a quartermaster to be piloting the nifty, zippy little Xenon X Craft, either.

However you do it, you’re going to run into nonsense that’s difficult to justify of explain, because I suspect suit colours were really assigned on the basis of “this would be a good set to have this colour astronaut in”.

The green suits from the LEGO Ideas Exo-Suit set are usually assumed to represent mech pilots, but this doesn’t sit well with me. Firstly, “mech pilots” seems wrong when everything else that goes on land has a “driver”. Truck driver. Car driver. Golf cart driver. Train driver. Therefore, “mech driver“, surely?

Secondly, it’s a weird distinction to give the operators of legged land vehicles their own colour suit and is contraindicated by Classic sets like the Astro Grappler from back when green elements came in baseplates and plant parts and that was it.

From the little story fragment in with the Exo-Suit set, I first assumed the green suit indicated that Pete and Yve (the minifigures) were rookies. It was only on connecting with the LEGO community and talking to those who I thought actually knew that I felt constrained to bend to majority opinion.

Having a special colour for rookies makes sense. In the construction industry, we typically mark new hires with some kind of particular mark. In my company it’s a yellow hard-hat rather than a white one. This is because a construction jobsite is a dangerous place and a new hire may or may not have a lot of experience in recognising and avoiding the inherent dangers. It’s a quiet way of saying “let’s keep a protective eye on these guys so that they’ll be around to go home at the end of the day”.

Deep space is at least as inherently dangerous as the worst example of a construction site; it would make sense to mark out the rookies, for everyone’s safety.

But what are the blue astronauts?

Blue astronauts should be something cool, because as a kid I always identified with my blue astronaut minifigure. “Commanders” or “Soldiers” are the semiofficial options, and I’ve already got the black suits as Security forces. The camo effect of black makes better sense than a bright colour like blue, though if that’s the case then they need to make grey suits to be the soldiers.

I like the idea of blue suits being commanders.

You can make a reasonable case for it from inferences from the Classic sets: as far as I can recall no Classic Space set ever contained more than one blue astronaut, and small vehicles like the Astro Dasher would make a pretty good commander’s runabout. The LEGO Group also have a history of commanders or central figures being included in small pocket-money sets: witness the Ice Planet Celestial Sled with Commander Bear.

Besides that, it makes sense for commanders to have their own suit colour. Space is a hostile, dangerous environment; the sort of place where it is vitally important to be able to tell at a glance who is in charge.

Anyway, now I have a blue astronaut again. I’ve actually taken the unprecedented step of placing this minifigure off-limits to my kids. Most of the time I have no problem with the general pooling of the household brick collection, but even with the thicker chinstrap, those original helmet elements are fairly fragile. Not as fragile as the first thin chinstraps, though. Those things had a half-life of about 12 days under real-world conditions.

And I really don’t want my first real Classic Spaceman minifigure acquired as a post-Dark Age AFOL getting lost or stepped on and broken. Those things aren’t all that cheap.

I think the mech would look better with a modern helmet and something other than a classic smiley as a face, but I wanted to show off my new minifigure. And that windscreen element; I do find mechs with properly-enclosed cockpits to look that much more finished, somehow.

I’m looking forward to using that windscreen in plenty more Classic Space-type creations. It’s a nice shape with a lot of possibility.

Right now I’m contemplating a neo-Blacktron Battrax update, for instance. Stay posted…

Labyrinth of Steam

Theseus was my second favourite Greek hero as a child, right after the wily Odysseus. I liked my heroes to have a bit of brain rather than just sheer unstoppable brawn. I still do, in fact.

So it was Odysseus rather than that spoiled invulnerable brat Achilles, and the intelligent Theseus rather than the dumbcluck Hercules that received my childhood acclaim.

For all that, though, I always found the Minotaur difficult to take seriously as a villainous monster.

Offspring of one of those weird unions that the ancient Greeks seemed to love, the Minotaur’s mother was Pasiphaë Queen of Knossos, while his father was the divine bull given to King Minos by the god Poseidon. Half human and half bull, he was imprisoned in the original Labyrinth, because apparently King Minos really couldn’t handle the fact that he’d been cuckolded by a livestock animal. Really, Greek mythology’s kind of weird if you think about it too much.

“Moo??!! I’m offended!”

Anyway, as a monster, half man and half bull seemed a bit too much like just a big cow, really. A farmyard animal.

A born-and-bred suburbanite, my experience of farms was the occasional school trip as a younger child, and cows were about as nonthreatening as sheep. Or hamsters. The LEGO minotaur minifigure doesn’t really do all that much to improve matters either. I’m the minotaur. Moo! Not very cool or scary.

So why am I building one now?

Well, my recent birthday Bricklink spree and assorted presents resulted in several new bricks that I wanted to try out in a creation of my own (like the new light brick from the Creator set 31062 Robo Explorer, and two cowcatchers, and a blue Classic Spaceman in perfect condition, and finally some Bionicle/Hero Factory arm/leg shields in a colour other than red, and…).

Those cowcatchers really cried out to my steampunk side as mech shoulder pads, but what kind of steampunk mech? I had no real inspiration beyond that.

Maybe something else, then? The bat wings I bought to replace a broken piece (axle connector snapped off) would look good on a manticore… But red is really the only reasonable colour for a manticore in my head, and my last two creations were predominantly red. Done that. Boring right now. Perhaps something else.

My language-bending brain noted the similarity in the sound of the words “manticore” and “minotaur”. The word “minotaur” cruised through my brain until it crashed into and fused with the idea “steampunk mech”.

Steampunk mecha-Minotaur? Now we’re talking!

Such a beast would have to be Hephaistos’ creature rather than Poseidon’s, but that’s ok. Together with Athena, Hephaistos is about the most reasonable of the unruly, vicious and spiteful pack of hyenas that we call the Greek pantheon (Ares is a coward, Poseidon’s cruel, Hera’s vengeful and vicious, Aphrodite’s just nasty a lot of the time and Zeus can’t keep it in his trousers where it belongs and is a cosmic tyrant), but the forge-god would still make a pretty good adversary. Hephaistos was, after all, god of fire and volcanoes as well as metalworking and the forge. Not someone to cross on a whim.

To build a suitable steam mechnotaur, though, I needed to get past the cow thing. No-one’s going to be afraid of a giant mechanical Holstein cow. Then I remembered that the cattle of the ancient world’s mythic age were a lot closer to shaggy wild aurochs than sleek Guernsey milk-cow. I need to channel the corrìda and the ancient Ice Age wild ox rather than the Jersey milkmaid and the child’s toy barnyard. Aurochs were huge and black and hairy and unstoppable, the epitome of untamed strength and power.

Now with the right mental image to work from, I set to work.

On the scale I was planning to work, the huge feet from the Green NRG Dragon set were really the only choice if I wanted them to reasonably support the creature’s bulk, but they’re rather pawlike and don’t really resemble the broad cloven hooves of a bull. Still, I thought I could work this right. Add a couple of claw elements backwards on the outer toes and I think gives the right impression. And still leaves me four claws to use on a hand.

Black and brown with metallic silver and gold highlights gives the right darkling steampunk flavour, with a few red elements just to add a raw, bloody note. I’ve used this design of thigh (originally cribbed from the Jay’s ElectroMech set) on numerous creations before, but it really does the business on a build like this. The upper body’s really a little too heavy to be supported by those balljoints in more than a couple of positions, but clickstop balljoints wouldn’t do what I needed.

Steam boilers and smokestacks go on the back, where they’re more protected and out of the way. Those cowcatchers really do make wonderful villainous shoulder armour, and I’ve added some gear wheels to the upper arms just to make it fully clear that this is a Mechnotaur.

Only having enough of my newly-acquired clip-on claw elements in dark silver left for one hand, it seemed a perfect excuse to use the cannon in place of the other hand. One-hand-and-one-arm-mounted-weapon is almost traditional for humanoid mechs, but in this case I’ve tried to be a bit creative with its attachment, eschewing the normal single-element carriage mount in favour of something a bit different.

The head provided a great excuse to use one of my two new light bricks (duplicate Robo Explorers and a son enthusiastically ripping into box no. 2 and starting building – on my present! – before it could be returned) to make the Mechnotaur snort light-up fire from its nostrils. I managed to get its eyes to light up with the same light brick, too. And of course, the Bionicle spike elements from Cole’s Boulder Bike make excellent horns.

Finally, the body. It actually presented me with something of a dilemma: should I keep the original design concept and make it a mech, with a pilot, or should I turn it into a full-on robot?

In the end I kept with my original idea.  The idea I had for its torso armour as a robot will keep for the next major robot project.

A Mechnotaur like this needs a hero to oppose, though, and putting a single minifigure, even Batman, up against this big bruiser is liable to result in the hero getting what the old LEGO Message Boards used to euphemistically call “smashed”.

Did I hear you say “Theseus mech”?

So that the confrontation is properly heroic, the Theseus heromech has to be substantially smaller than the Mechnotaur. But that’s ok. The Mechnotaur is pretty huge, so almost anything I build as a Theseus battlesuit is going to be smaller.

My son’s got the Jay’s ElectroMech set built at the moment, and between that and the Mechnotaur itself there aren’t too many large-ball-joint-to-studs connector elements left. That determines a lot of the final form of the Theseus mech in and of itself. It’s quite a challenge trying to steampunk a Classical Greek mythic hero; I hope you like what I’ve done.

Ariadne’s thread has become a winch and rope; it seemed apt and was a good excuse to use that languishing element in a MOC. I’ve tried to both stay true to the grimy, sooty steampunk ethos and build in lighter colours than the Mechnotaur, hence the use of light grey.

This is also my first use of that diver’s helmet, which I’ve had since Christmas but haven’t had a use for yet.

And finally, some scenery. No major SNOTwork baseplates or what-have-you this time; the whole creation is way too big for that. But I’ve managed to generate enough to give it a sort of “grimy pseudoclassical” look.

Anyway, that’s the whole creation. And as I said last time, the sort of world that could give rise to a steampunk mecha-minotaur would make quite a good story. Steampunk Greek gods keeping the mortals in forced ignorance; a band of engineer-heroes rising up to fight the mecha-monsters and oppose the tyrannical gods…

Best of all, it means that if I continue to get inspired, there might be more than one creation in this.