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undiscovered-horizon · 8 months

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"She is not a bird" - Hvitserk x Reader

SUMMARY: In Eddas, every great warrior falls in love with a Valkyrie - a winged goddess equally beautiful and imposing. Hvitserk finds his after a battle as she's stitching wounds and bringing comfort to those who will not see another dawn.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2k

In a colourful dress, she busses around, Time and time she turns her head, gives a smile, You could swear you saw her wings yesterday, How she hid them under the dress, But she’s not a bird, Can’t you see? She is not a bird.

Hvitserk has no interest in medicine or healing. Despite that, he has found himself watching one of the healers as she’s running back and forth between beds. She’s been at it for hours now and Hvitserk begins to wonder how come she’s not tired yet. Her feet and hands are equally quick as they had been when they arrived at the camp after the battle. The mesmerising glint in her eyes, something between curiosity and adoration, is still just as bright. Whenever one of the wounded warriors wants to talk to her, she sits at the edge of their bed. Her head nods gently before her lips curl into a reassuring smile and she says something in return. Maybe she’ll even chuckle at something. From where he’s standing, Hvitserk can’t make out her words but he can quite clearly see the faces of the people she’s talking to and it makes his curiosity consume him entirely to know what words turn agony into peace.

Lost in his own thoughts, the young Viking doesn’t notice jarl Friedgeir approaching him.

“Enchanting, isn’t she?” he asks with a smirk. He’s seen this scenario one too many times to have any doubts about what Hvitserk is thinking about. Friedgeir himself has been in that very same position before.

Friedgeir Esrason is nimble for his age. White and silver hair circles his tired face like a halo. Sun-damaged skin makes him appear even older, although fuller of life. It’s a testimony of long days spent on adventures, seeing what the world has to offer. Despite nearing grandfather’s age, his torso is broad and his arms are about the size of a shieldmaiden’s thigh. Brass bracelets clink every time he moves his hands. The purple material of his tunic is clearly worn out, tearing in places of the most friction.

“She is,” Hvitserk admits.

Jarl puts his heavy hand on Hvitserk’s shoulder. For a moment, the young warrior wonders if Friedgeir could actually crush his bones should he squeeze his fingers a little tighter.

“Can I entrust a secret to you, son of Ragnar?” Friedgeir asks in a low tone. His grey eyes look around the two of them as though expecting to find a prying set of ears. Everyone besides them appeared too preoccupied with their own duties and worries to care about the gossip shared between the Jarl and the famous Lothbrok boy.

Hvitserk looks at the older man with a frown.

“My brothers and I have risked our lives for your cause, Jarl Friedgeir,” he reminds the ruler. “I have no interest in breaking your trust. You know that already.”

“Good.” Friedgeir pats Hvitserk’s shoulder. He must be unaware of his strength as the gentle slaps are actually quite forceful, making Hvitserk answer his own question about crushing bones. Friedgeir can definitely turn someone’s skeleton into dust with a squeeze. “My wife mustn’t ever hear what I’m about to tell you. That girl…” he makes a pause and points his finger at the healer, “I think she might be a bird.”

Taken aback, Hvitserk looks up and down the Jarl.

“Did the Swedes hit you on the head?” he asks half-heartedly.

“I wish it was that. But no.” Friedgeir laughs bitterly and shakes his head. A shadow of melancholy flies past his sun-damaged face only to reside inside his silver eyes as a teary glint. “I always knew there was something strange about her but I came to understanding only after seeing the great viziers of the East and their pets locked in golden cages.”

Hvitserk glances towards the healer. His eyes follow her like hawk in hopes of some enlightenment that would make Friedgeir’s words clearer to him. Alas, she appears as she did before - enticing and human.

He shakes his head.

“I don’t understand.”

The Jarl lets out a sigh.

“Just look, dear Hvitserk. See the colourful dress like a parrot’s feathers.” Hvitserk has never heard of something called a parrot, so he is left to assume that they must look nothing like the birds in Norway. “And look at men’s faces when she talks to them. Pain and suffering change into hope and peace. The only time I’ve seen that was when one of the viziers asked his angry guests to listen to his oriole singing. After an hour, no one remembered what they were fighting about.”

Time as if slows down as Hvitserk is watching the healer sit on the edge of a cot belonging to a dying man. She holds his hand tightly and tirelessly wipes cold sweat from his forehead. The warrior is stuttering, fever and pain making his wants incomprehensible. The woman sitting beside him only nods her head, offering a warm smile and a short response. Soon, the man falls limp. His eyes turn blank as his head rolls lifelessly to the side. The healer squeezes the corpse’s hand and only then gets up to continue her work. A pair of healthy warriors wrap up the body in blankets only to carry it away, to the place where a great pyre will burn after nightfall.

Hvitserk is more intelligent than the jarl. More perceptive. He’s seen geese flying southwards when winter was coming, only to come back after snow thaws. But not her - she stayed until the warriors’ skin turned cold and grey. Let go of dead hands only after the heart stopped, never earlier.

“She’s not a bird,” the young Lothbrok speaks up. Friedgeir looks at him curiously. “Can’t you see?” he asks with a chuckle on his tongue. “She must be a Valkyrie, leading fallen warriors to the gates of Odin's hall.”

The Jarl only nods slowly, pondering Hvitserk’s words.

“If she is, perhaps death isn’t a too high price to be by her side.”

But he’s too young to be this patient and Hvitserk has to find a reason to be beside her now.

You’re taken aback when someone suddenly takes the wooden crate from your hands. The unexpected helper reveals himself to be none other but Hvitserk with a playful grin on his face. Despite giving all he could in the battle, just hours prior, he appears to still be vigorous as though the fight was a mere warm-up.

The man puts the heavy crate on his shoulder, securing it with one arm. What has given you backpain and cold sweat, seems like no chore to him. The Ragnarsons really are a different strain.

“Where do you want this?” he asks casually.

“At the pyre.” You point in the vague direction of where the bodies will be burned. “Illness thrives within the old, used dressings.”

Hvitserk begins wandering to the place you have pointed out and, not sure why, you begin to follow him. His strides are long and sure, his breathing calm and steady. He hardly fits the image of a man who had to fight like a rabid dog to survive just earlier that day.

“Are you not tired afer the battle?” you ask him. Confusion slips past your words.

“I am.” Hvitserk glances at you. It’s a quick look but you manage to notice him staring you up and down. “But I thought you might need help. You’ve been tending to the wounded for hours.”

A melodic, light chuckle escapes your lips.

“You’ve been watching me?”

His playful half-grin turns into a genuine smile. Staring at the road ahead, he almost looks bashful.

“I have a habit of admiring enticing things,” Hvitserks admits.

You feel your cheeks burning at the nonchalant compliment but you don’t let him notice that. Neither do you let his sweet words distract you.

“Then you must lead a busy, beautiful life.”

The man’s voice seems faraway and absent as he answers, as though his mind is suddenly occupied with vivid daydreams:

“Not yet.”

The noise of the camp is inaudible now. Only pine trees and wild berries accompany Hvitserk and you. A murder of crows suddenly takes flight as you pass by. Their cawing echoes through the empty forest.

You can’t quite put a finger on this sensation but something about Hvitserk makes you feel warm and calm inside. It’s the same feeling one experiences when sitting in front of a warm hearth after spending long hours in the cold. When the blood begins flowing again and the relief of not freezing to death is forgotten, the warmth and safety make one sleepy and giddy. But how can a man make you feel the same as a fireplace on a cold night?

Hvitserk sets the crate down with a low thud. The sound shakes you awake from your thoughts. A strong, putrid smell of blood, fresh wood and animal fat fills your nostrils. Even after all those years, it never gets easier to prepare people for their final journey.

“Thank you,” you begin awkwardly. Some more anxious part of you is suddenly terrified that he will somehow learn of your thoughts about him. “I don’t know if I could have carried it by myself all the way here.”

His lips curve into a sly grin and you can tell he’s about to weave a string of charming words but something about him distracts you instantly. Hvitserk’s shirt, once greyish-beige, is now brown and crimson. Not thinking much, you suddenly grab his arm. He doesn’t even get a chance to protest when you roll up his sleeve to reveal a, re-opened wound.

“Your hand is bleeding,” you state.

Hvitserk is unsure whether your stern gaze scares him or excites.

“It’s nothing.”

He tries to roll his sleeve back down but you swat his arm away. Pushing down on his shoulder, you force him to sit down on the ground with you.

“Well, it’s definitely going to scar,” you say quietly as you inspect the deep cut in his skin. “But the good news is, some women like men with scars. I know I do.”

You take out a sewing needle made from animal bone. For practicality, you’re used to wearing it pinned somewhere in your clothing. After all, one can never know when they might need it like when a handsome, charming Viking suddenly needs his wound stitched. Gods work in mysterious ways, truly…

A drop of blood drips from the wound each time you push the needle through the pale skin. Hvitserk is impressively collected - he only grunts a few times and clenches his teeth.

“All done,” you whisper more to yourself than him. In a quick, mechanical manner you wipe the skin of his arm again and roll down the sleeve of his shirt.

You’re standing up when Hvitserk decides he’s not quite done being the apple of your eye:

“How hurt does a man have to be for you to stay around longer?”

As though he didn’t just get stabbed eigh times in his cut and bruised arm, he’s staring at you with than same insufferable mischieviousness that you’ve grown to love so much. Sometimes you wonder whether this is exactly the reason he’s never had trouble charming women.

“A broken rib would do it,” you say with a shrug. “Or you could just ask.”

Suddenly, Hvitserk jumps to his feet. A newfound fire is burning inside him - a flame known only to those, whose affections are returned.

“Please?”

Jokingly, you frown at him.

“I didn’t know the Lothbroks knew such words,” you say in a surprised tone.

You feel his fingers dragging up your arm until his palm gently brushes against your cheek. The skin of his hand is dry and calloused, standing in a stark opposition to its owner.

“We hold it for special occasions.” Hvitserk’s voice is low, almost raspy.

“And me standing here is somehow special?”

“You don’t even know,” he whispers. His breath is hot against your cheeks. But how can a man make you feel the same as a fireplace on a cold night?

“Then tell me.”

At that moment, he knows he will have his entire life to remind you just how special you are to him; he will have his whole saga to love a Valkyrie.

#vikings #vikings tv series #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #vikings fanfiction #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk #hvitserk fanfiction #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk x you #vikings hvitserk #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk fanfic #vikings x you

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memories-of-ancients · 10 months

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Necklace consisting of glass beads, brass pendants, and a silver Arabic coin, uncovered from a Viking grave in Sweden, 800-1100 AD

from The Historiska Museum

#history #antiquities #art #jewelr #jewellery #middle ages #medieval art #vikings

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theoutcastrogue · 2 months

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8 Fancy Pocket Knives

Etched pocket knife from Eskilstuna, Sweden

Silver / mother of pearl Victorian fruit knife, England

Damascene Toledo knife, Spain

Inlaid Toledo knife, Germany

Silver-plated fruit knife, USA

Damascene Toledo knife, Spain

Etched pocket knife from Eskilstuna, Sweden

Mother of pearl pocket knife from Eskilstuna, Sweden

@victoriansword [details after the cut]

1) Swedish pocket knife by EKA (Eskilstuna Kniffabriks AB), c. 1980-2000. Model 6 GS (1967-2010), with main blade, bottle opener/screwdriver, pen blade, and nail file. Tang stamp "EKA / SWEDEN" (from 1967), etched handle, 7 cm closed.

These were very popular in the 2nd half of the 20th century as gift knives or advertising knives. They were manufactured by many cutlers in Eskilstuna, and widely exported. The decorative pattern appears, with variations, on Swedish knives from at least the 19th century, and is inspired by Norse / Viking art, which often features twisted serpents/dragons. The interlacing perhaps also borrows from Celtic knots.

2) English fruit knife by Martin Bros & Co, 1848. Silver blade with 4 hallmarks (for Queen Victoria, the year, sterling silver, and Sheffield) and maker's mark, mother of pearl scales, 9.5 cm closed.

This is the posh version of what used to be an incredibly useful tool, a knife (and sometimes a multi-tool knife and fork) for eating on the road. The fancier ones were also status symbols, and very popular gifts – millions of silver fruit knives were manufactured in Britain from the 18th to the 20th century, mostly in Sheffield, Birmingham, and Edinburgh.

3) Spanish Toledo knife, as it's sometimes called, a damascened penknife of recent manufacture. Two pen blades, tang stamp "TOLEDO", 6.7 cm closed.

Not to be confused with Damascus blades! The handle is damascened – decorated with gold inlaid into oxidized steel (see here for details). Reminder that gold is a highly ductile metal (you can stretch it real thin before it breaks), so that impressive aesthetic result comes from a tiny amount of gold. It's a cheap knife, is what I'm saying, for tourists basically.

4) German pocket knife, confusingly also called Toledo, by Hartkopf. With main blade, pen blade and nail file. Brass handle inlaid with oxidised steel. Tang stamp "Hartkopf&Co / Solingen", 8cm closed.

It's "damascened" in the broad sense of inlaying, hence the name "Toledo": it supposedly emulates the Spanish style, and perhaps pretends to be Spanish, but both the metals and the geometric patterns are different. Knives of this type were popular in Germany all through the 20th century as gifts and advertising knives.

5) American fruit knife by William Rogers Mfg, made in Hartford, Connecticut c.1865-1898. Main blade, seedpick [also called nut-pick or nut-picker *snickers*], silver-plated nickel silver, decorated with flowers and apples. Tang stamp: an anchor logo and "Wm ROGERS & SON AA", 8.2 cm closed.

Sometimes fruit knives like this were bought by fruit shops/groceries (relatively fancy ones, presumably) in bulk, and sold or given to customers as gifts.

6) Spanish Toledo penknife (another one). With pen blade and damascened handle, different pattern, probably a bit older. Tang stamp again "TOLEDO", 6.8 cm closed.

7) Swedish pocket knife by Emil Olsson, c. 1920-1950. Blade, pen blade and corkscrew. Tang stamp "EMIL OLSSON / [star logo] / ESKILSTUNA", 9.2 cm closed.

Another etched serpent pattern on the handle, though by now you have to squint to see it. This knife has seen some shit. Until ~1940, pocket knives were widely sold and used in Sweden because they came with corkscrews, and all the bottles had corks, and everyone needed to open bottles. After the war, bottle caps replaced corks for everything except wine, and the pocket knife's utility plummeted, and cutleries started closing. There used to be hundreds, and by now only EKA's left. So statistically, if it's from before ~1950 it saw a lot of use, and if it's after ~1950 it did not, it was a gift or something.

8) Swedish pocket knife by EKA, c.1935-1965. Model 38 PB, with blade, pen blade, flat screwdriver, and corkscrew. Handle with mother of pearl scales and nickel silver bolsters, tang stamp "E.K.A. / ESKILSTUNA / SWEDEN", 8.3 cm closed.

The corkscrew is a quirky one, known as Gottlieb Hammesfahr patent: it pivots on the pin and opens perpendicular to the handle, not pulled downwards as in most pocket knives.

#tools of the trade #folding knife #sweden #sheffield #spain #germany #toledo #eskilstuna #solingen #usa #trs #trp #trc #how to stab #<- the knife nerd tag

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armthearmour · 2 years

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A Viking era Sword inlaid beautifully with brass wire, recovered from Lummelunda, Sweden, ca. 800-1100, housed at the Statens Historiska Museer.

#weapons #sword #viking sword #europe #european #sweden #swedish #gotland #viking era #statens historiska museer #art #history

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tiikerikani · 15 days

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Throwback Not-Thursday (2012 v 2024)

Gerrin Goblinkicker, Dwarf Hero (sculpted by Bob Olley)

This was the last figure I painted before starting up again in 2020.

I'm known to be insufferably/irredeemably stuck in the past, so unlike normal people who might strip and repaint their earlier figures, I painted a whole other copy. This dwarf figure is still in production, so I didn't need to wrangle one from eBay at stupid prices. I even happened to have a matching base (they had come in a 3-pack and I still had the other 2—these are discontinued).

On the old version the middle of the shield is just off-center if you look at the model from that corner and it just feels like something is wrong. For the new version I decided to place him along the diagonal of the base instead of the side. I think this way it is clearer which direction he's facing—though it's actually the feet that are aligned to the diagonal and not his face, so it's still kind of off.

I considered painting a whole pattern onto the shield instead of leaving it plain wood, but I didn't want it to be too different from the old version, so I just changed the shield boss to brass/bronze for contrast.

I had placed him too far forward too; I think I was trying to center the feet on the base instead of the figure overall.

I used the same static grass from a plastic film container of it that I got from somebody. I have no memory of where it's from and this is the only figure I have that uses it. I wonder if it's from 2000/1 when I'd just learned to paint, since a pinch of grass on the base appears to have been typical on Warhammer figures from that era. Maybe I used it on Battletech figures I painted for my classmates at $5 a pop. Anyway, it sits on a bed of green stuff instead of a thick layer of PVA glue (which shrinks so you'd need a lot of it to fill up the hollow base, but that's how I did things back then. didn't know any better).

Recipes

The base blue paint on the old model was Ral Partha's Dragon Blue (highlights in Sky Blue). I still have the Dragon Blue pot and wanted to use it but the paint doesn't stick to the primer anymore so I guess it's dead. It's a bit drowned in black wash on the 2012 model, and here's what I did on the new one:

Speedpaint Beowulf Blue (as you do because, you know, vikings). I didn't shake it enough so it came out a bit purple

Thin layer of Ultramarine Blue

Wet blend Wolf Grey into Ultramarine for first highlight

Gorgon Hide for second highlight

The green base was a bit trickier since the Army Painter Warpaints do not have a match for it (maybe the new Fanatic line does, dunno). But I made it work with a solid coat of Greenskin and then Speedpaint Shamrock Green (the latter of which is a decent match).

P.S. The old Ral Partha Bronze paint is really more of a brassy color. It's not orange-ish at all.

Bonus: Super-black background tutorial (kind of)

When you take the photos, use a sheet of black velour / flocking as the backdrop; Green Stuff World sells these in various sizes but the material is originally used in other things that need to be super dark, like telescopes, so you can probably find it in places where astronomy stuff is sold.

You'll never get all the dust and speckles out of it with a tape roller so just remove as much as you can.

Editing the pictures—I use GIMP:

(Optional) Crop your image. You can do it now, or at the end like I do.

Adjust levels and do color corrections as needed.

Fuzzy select the black area around the figures. 10% tolerance worked for me, but go lower if the figures are dark. You want to avoid picking up parts of the miniatures.

Invert the selection.

Copy and paste to a new layer and put it at the top. This layer will be transparent and contain just the figures and a lot of dust speckles.

Create a new white layer and put it under the transparent layer. Now you can see all the speckles against the white background.

Clean up background with eraser tool.

Hide the white layer and create a black layer. (Or just put the black layer above the white one.)

Clean up any stray dust with eraser tool.

If fuzzy select was overzealous and took out too much (you can flip the solid layers on and off to check), copy/paste those areas back in from the original picture.

#miniatures #fantasy miniatures #reaper miniatures #miniature painting #dwarf #photo editing

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onepiece-oc-archives · 2 months

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What weapons other than devil fruit powers and swords could ocs in the one piece world have?

Hey! Thanks for the ask and sorry for my long absence! I had a friend over, things happened, university started, then more things happened and are currently happening, so... I might not be as active for a while.

Anyways, back to this question. The answer is fairly simple: Literally any you can think of. Anything that could even somewhat be considered a weapon can be used by a One Piece character. But let me give you some options to think about:

I'm gonna touch on swords anyways because I feel like people don't fully realize what range of swords there is. Look at this post. It's a meme post, but you get the gist. The most common sword in One Piece is the katana but did you know that there are different lengths of katana? You could also give your OC a Zweihänder, a viking sword, a Roman gladius, a rapier, a cutlass, a cane sword... get creative!

Second very common weapon: Guns. Once again: Get creative! Marine soldiers use rifles, but you could also opt for a revolver, a flintlock, hell, a bazooka, a machinegun...

Different long-range weapons: Consider slingshots, bows, crossbows and the like.

Smaller, stealthier weapons. There are very tiny guns out there. Daggers, shurikens, kunais, needles, war fans, brass knuckles...

Polearms! Spears, lances, bo staffs, halberds...

There's a lot more out there. Whips, axes, hammers, clubs...

Create your own weapons! Literally, get creative. Maybe research some old weapons that are obsolete today - you'll find some really interesting stuff!

And if none of the weapons you find strike your fancy, your OC might just use hand-to-hand combat or martial arts. Or maybe they ride a ferocious animal? There are some big, dangerous animals in the One Piece world, you'll find or come up with something.

Literally, there are pretty much no limits to your creativity when it comes to what weapons to give your OC. My advice would be to think about what kind of weapon would suit or OC's abilities or requirements. A stealthy thief would not carry a Zweihänder because it's big and hard to conceal. Someone who doesn't have a lot of physical strength would not do well with a weapon reliant on brute force.

I hope this helped at all. Have a lovely day!

#ask the archivist #no spoilers #topic: basics #topic: weapons #topic: fighting

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burningknucklecraftworks · 8 months

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Griffin and Sword Targe for Fergus O'Dae

This is a build log for a late period Scottish targe for Fergus O'Dae, a border reaver and rising star of the Northshield Army. The Griffin and Sword is our Award of Arms-level award for excellency in armored combat.

Before starting the design, I layed out my idea using Heraldicon, a free website built to be even more powerful than Drawshield for assembling coats of arms. I thought it would be very fetching to have the Northshield populace badge outlined in the brass studs characteristic to targes, with the griffin and sword represented with different colored metals.

Laying out the carving and the tacks. A missed step in this album is cutting the wooden core. I actually already had a 20" round of plywood lying around. It wasn't actually a shield blank; it was the center cutout of a wooden ring I made to hold the 3.5' long bolts on our giant electrical wire spool in a specific pattern so I could reassemble the whole thing.

The griffin layout. Many thanks go to Heraldic Traceable Art and Heraldicon as well as the /r/heraldry community for maintaining so many Creative Commons vector assets. I've used this griffin asset by Gunnvôr (Viking Answer Lady) so many times.

With the leather dried it's much easier to see the layout lines. Here's a spot I can make some big improvements on next time: I attached the leather before trimming it to a proper round, and then I didn't fully tack down the back before beginning the layout process. The wood I used was pretty trashy plywood so my drawing and carving surface is also extremely bumpy underneath the leather.

At this stage I began to carve the central award badge with my swivel knife. I need to see if there's swivel knives for children with arthritis because my bog standard Tandy knife gives me hella hand cramps and extreme inflammation on my thumb-palm muscles.

Your eyes do not deceive you: I did in fact have a crisis of attention span and pivoted from carving the badge to outlining the compass rose in brass tacks. The majority of the tacks used for this project are 7/16" low dome brass tacks from Crazy Crow Trading Post down in Texas. I also used 1/2" high dome and 1/4" dome tacks from the same shop.

Lining up the 1/4" tacks. I actually hadn't planned to do these lines initially, but I had to emergency order more tacks and tossed these in for greater variety. I love the end result of this decision. If you tuckered out your arm hammering in 2/3 of the outline tacks with a ball peen, a drill press can take over in a pinch. I really need to get a stool for the drill press.

Tacks complete! We can carve again now.

Added some obligatory trinity knots. It's not Scottish if it doesn't have a triskelion or a trinity knot, dontcha know?

(Sarcasm aside, check out the targe used by Donald Cameron of Lochiel, the Cameron Clan Chief who was a prominent Jacobite commander throughout the 1745 campaign. Post period for the SCA but who's counting? Photo from Paul Macdonald of Macdonald Armories in Scotland.)

All trinity knots cut, one carved, and I began to add a braid motif too.

...Aaaaand here's improvement opportunity number 2. I was low on time and hand strength so I decided to dye the leather before I carved the braids, but after I cut them. I also picked Fibbings Medium Brown for my dye without doing test patches, and used the standard daubers to apply it. That is three Big Mistakes in a row, and only one is actually justifiable in any way. The result is an extremely uneven dye job that completely washes out the uncarved braids. If I'd given myself one more week to do this scroll, I would've had more rest time for my hands and I think I wouldn't have made these mistakes, but in a way I'm grateful I did because now I know to schedule more time for working on scrolls for the next assignment. Plus, I try to remember what Samii of SunCat Designs says about art: "the mistakes are what make it human".

Because this is an SCA award, I chose to swap the traditional deerhide backing for glued muslin and paint. I then taped off my handle locations and handed it off to my spouse @dustycymbre for the award scroll text. They used their default uncial hand, which is my favorite of their script hands.

Traditional targes have a small brass center boss. When I originally conceived of this award, I had imagined the griffin in brass with a tinned sword, but I haven't actually tried chase and repousse yet and struck upon a different method of making the center griffin allude visually to the center bosses: carve it directly into the leather and then gild it. This particular stage is sealing the carving with Ecoflow Cova Color leather paint, to provide a smooth surface for the glue (also know as gild size).

Cova Color white shouldn't be directly applied to damp dyed leather like this because it soaks up the brown like a sponge. My brightest white application is my H-shield, which dried for about a week before I painted it.

Another ADHD swing of focus: needed to have a long phone conversation with my spouse and bro in law and stitching is a far less active hand activity for me than The Thing I've Never Done Before, so I stitched up the strap and handle. Here the handle is inside out in a jar of water to get nice and soft for turning.

I stitched a rabbit hide into the interior of the arm strap. It's soft and a little padded, and I think it looks quite fetching. To figure out the right strap length for the recipient's ridiculously beefy arm that helped him earn this award, I asked my former football player bro in law for his arm circumference and then rooted around the house for a pickel jar of the same diameter. Stitch width awls are your friend. One of the top ten tools I own for sure.

Turning out the handle. This took a lot of hand strength and chopstick finagling. I'm genuinely looking forward to making Kat the Herald's purple shoes because they'll be easier to turn than this fucker.

Fit check. Look at that beautiful wet shaping on the handle! At this point I felt a level of actual mastery of my craft. I think I can really call myself a leatherworker now. I still have so much to learn and improve, but I feel comfortable. It feels good.

With the handles done, it's back to gilding. According to the Pinterest mommy blogs, you can skip the professional artist size and use watered down mod podge for the gilding process. I gambled on them being right, whipped out my pack of silver, copper and gold foils, and got down to business. I used a tiny but cheap paint brush to apply the thinned glue to the sword, let it dry a little, and then applied the silver foil. I tapped at it with a napkin through a flour sack towel, let it dry a little and brushed off the excess with a second and much fluffier brush.

The Pinterest pinnsters aren't entirely wrong about mod podge, but they aren't entirely right either. I had to add more glue and gilding foil like eight times. This is after one of the last additions, but before I brushed away the excess. Mod podge doesn't want to work on the irregular curves of carved leather. The dry time to tackiness was also imprecise and very very short, which made applying the delicate foil correctly very difficult.

I finally had to give up. There were just too many spots that would not take foil at all. I grabbed my Stewart Semple Heavy Metals box set, pulled out the Goldest Gold, and painted over the bare spots. At this angle, the difference in reflection angles and quality is obvious. The paint is so much more yellow. But deadlines are deadlines, and imperfections make it human.

This angle is much more favorable. I find myself in love with the effect of the gilding over the carving on the feathers. I need to get good at gilding.

And here she is signed by Their Majesties Northshield, in the warm lights of the Sioux Falls Coliseum stage. Fergus loves it and it got a lot of ooos and ahs from the populace. I had a lot of fun in spite of some of the frustrations of this build, and I'm excited to try another targe with even more accuracy at some point.

#sca #society of creative anachronism #my crafts #reenactment #scottish #scotland #targe #did you know that certain jacobite targes made of softwood with wool felt sandwiched inside the wood core can stop musket shots #i learned that from fandabi dozi and paul macdonald #they tested it mythbusters style

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scotianostra · 8 months

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Happy Birthday Scottish actress Sandra Voe born on Shetland on 6th 1936.

Other than the fact she was born on Shetland, where her father owned a fishing factory, there is little I can tell you about Sandra’s early life. However she has been a very busy lady, appearing in many TV shows over the past 50 odd years Voe began her on screen career in 1966, appearing in an episode of Dr. Finlay’s Casebook.

Her shows in the 70’s include Coronation Street, Emmerdale Farm, Within These Walls and Sounding Brass, during the 80’s on TV and film, Bread or Blood, The Practice, Open all Hours and Local Hero, the 90’s saw her in the brilliant Takin’ Over the Asylum, which seems to crop up in a few of our anniversaries and another regular show on my posts Taggart, over into the 21st century and oor Sandra was still working hard, the pick of 15 different shows and films were Playing the Field, Midsomer Murders, Foyles War, and of course Monarch of the Glen .In 1993 she was also in the gritty film Naked, which also starred Ewan Bremner, Spud in the Trainspotting films.In the past 8 years Sandra Voe, now in her 70’s shows no sign of slowing down, Holby City, Howards end, in 2013, inevitably she turned up in her home Islands on the superb Shetland. Just this year Sandra has chalked up a couple of appearances on the hit series, Vikings as a witch

As well as the many, many TV and film roles she has also been a regular treading the boards at some of the top Theatres, including Sheffield Crucible, Leicester Phoenix, Leicester Haymarket, Oxford Playhouse, Birmingham Rep, Manchester Royal Exchange, West Yorkshire Playhouse, Nottingham Playhouse, Bristol Old Vic, Bloomsbury, Hampstead, Lyric Hammersmith, Almeida, Bush, Shared Experience, RNT, Royal Court and Ambassadors.

Her daughter, Candida Doyle, was keyboard player with the '90s British pop band Pulp, her son, Magnus Doyle, was Pulp's drummer. Sandra was last on our screens in the very good mini-series Trigonometry.

Recently Sandra has been reliving her Local Hero experience when she makes a return trip to the north-east for the 40th anniversary of the film. She has teamed up with fellow actors Jimmy Yuill, Jonathan Watson and Tam Dean Burn and met school children from Banff Academy and Fraserburgh Academy.

Sandra said: “It’s wonderful to be coming back. The place and the community is conjured up so well by Bill Forsyth that you really believe it.”

#scotland #scottish #actress #happy birthday

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thedevils7thstring · 2 months

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Ideas for new -punk aesthetics

You’ve heard of cyberpunk, and steampunk, and, if you’re cool, Solarpunk. I am going to be making new -punk styles and describing them here.

Eldritchpunk

-So usually, these things are based on whatever power source they’re using, so in Eldritchpunk, they use some otherworldly energy to power their machines.

-Set in port towns or lovecraftian-esch cities. 19th to early 20th century.

-Boats. Fog. Ocean things.

-Machinery with pumping pistons and glowing tubes filled with otherworldly sludge. Some machines or vehicles built around creatures.

-Eldritch Horror and such are semi-commonplace. Possibly even otherworldly beings living within cities as civilians.

-Kinda steampunky but less steam and brass and more fog and wet wood

Podunkpunk

-Code Name: KND and Craig of the Creek energy. A bunch of kids in a small town making weapons and stuff that probably shouldn’t work and yet it does.

-Gumball guns and slingshots. Treehouse bases. Lots and lots of duct tape.

-Small towns with kids riding around on bicycles here and there protecting the town from whatever.

-Double A batteries, random lightbulbs, that stuff.

Runepunk

-Powered by rocks with runes on them or things of the sort.

-Could be taken in the direction of either Nordic Viking aesthetics with runic technology and semi-modern, or semi-modern people discovering runic technology and using it for floating structures and such.

Biopunk

-Think the game Scorn with all the technology being made of pulsing meat and intestinal tubes.

Rhythmpunk

-Machinery being controlled in some way shape or form from music.

I kinda lost steam (funny joke) after Podunkpunk.

Anyway here are just some ideas.

#punk aesthetics #aesthetic #cyberpunk aesthetic #steampunk aesthetic #scifi aesthetic #scifi #cyberpunk #steampunk #solarpunk #eldritchpunk #podunkpunk #runepunk #biopunk #rhythmpunk

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pollyna · 2 years

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au: Iceman lives but he's still doing chemio, Mav and Slider have a kind of hate/hate/love relationship but when it comes to their mutual friend they pair up faster than you could ever believed. Oh, and Hondo is fuckin' smart, he follows Mav from job to job because he likes to go around and meet new people and have new challenges everytime, before he gets bored.

Warning for homophobic assholes, angst, slurs and not enough punching.

Sunny outside doesn't mean Maverick is happy. This fucking new place where they moved the base is always sunny and he would appreciate it if heat could give them a little breath because it's just the end of march and they already have to switch on the air conditioner and that made Tom get cold again. It's never a good day when his husband gets sick because of stupid stuff it could be avoided. Better yet, it is never going to be a good day until a cold won't degenerate into fever and long nights fighting sleep and nightmares.

He fucking misses Miramar, their favourite spot on the beach and the gentle old lady who used to spend the afternoon with Ice playing cards, watching stupid telenovelas and keeping him company when Maverick had to be elsewhere.

The new class isn't helping his mood either. The best of the best and a new brand of fucking assholes who doesn't listen to him, makes him want to punch everybody in the face and likes Cyclone a little too much for his, and Hondo's, taste. Hondo not liking an entire class says much, especially after three years of teaching at TOPGUN and the number of years the man himself spend working with many different kinds of people in every program the brass moved him to.

If on a normal and sunny day Maverick would have just let it slide and got back to them making the exercise just a little more difficult to complete, today he just can't, not again and not after what he heard while walking in his classroom. Skylab is the first voice he hears but Viking is the one who answers and the deafening silence from the others doesn't help. It hurts a bit when not even Empress, the only decent person and a very good pilot, says something.

The brass let a faggot like Kazansky win this stupid fucking price and then made him Admiral. Who knows how many favours he had to do just to enter the Navy.

Probably not as many he had to do all these years to save Captain Mavsshole. Probably he has AIDS and not even cancer but they are just too ashamed, to tell the truth, or everyone would ask too many questions.

Pete has to count until ten and then until a hundred and then another time until a hundred before taking another step. He knows all his seeing, and hearing, is just blind rage and it could make it worst, probably ending up in prison or in the hospital and then Ice should get up to fetch him and he isn't in the state to do anything, he shouldn't do anything if not get better. He counts from one hundred to zero a third time, takes a deep breath and thinks he can handle this without resulting in homicide and a dishonourable discharge from the Navy and leaving so much mess to clean to Carlos and David. He likes them and he likes having lunch with them. So no to punch because then his husband should come for him and he can't, no to kill or he's going to lose two friends but he can't act as if nothing happened. So he'll have to think about what to do and they're going to regret even letting their own brain think about something like that.

The punishment arrives in town under the shape of one Ron Slider Kerner who decided to come around to see his best friend and spent time making Maverick's week a complete hell. Or maybe not.

When he comes back home that same night Slider is already around, sitting on the couch, talking with Ice about something and someone who got married down in Cali and people Mav doesn't know. Tom looks a little better and just that makes the day a little less heavy, when they kiss hello he can feel his husband's hands around his face and their grip is stronger every day and that would have made his knees give up and cry a little because it was such a close call this time he almost can't still believe this man, four starts admiral Tom Iceman Kazansky, is still alive and fighting and kissing him when he comes back home. Then Slider cough and oh, oh man now he knows what to do and how to make that bunch of assholes pay. They're going to hell without moving a step and they're blissful unaware of what it's waiting for them.

He has to wait after dinner after Ice is in bed and Slider is tidying around because he lived with Ice too and took some of his husband freakish habit when it comes to have a spotless kitchen in a spotless house. So Slider, I have a favour to ask he announces once he's back in front of him and Slider's smirk is a very knowing one. And so the game begins.

Wednesday morning is a little cooler than Tuesday and Ice's cold seems a less intense. He takes Slider with him because he must see the new state of art place where he's working he says to Ice and his husband laughs and looks like he's sayin' I know something is going on, be careful babe.

The class is already sitting in their usual spots, a pilot and their RIO every row, and they look at them walking in with the most confused expression ever. Oh, you don't have the slightest idea of what is going to happen now.

Class this is Captain Ron Kerner, callsign Slider, he was Admiral Kazansky's RIO for most of their years in the air and he's going to teach you a couple of things this week. He worked around a little bit, after he stop flying, went to DC, decided to put his ass on a chair and then went back in combat with some very tough dudes who taught him a thing or two. He's here for a visit and, over dinner, I was thinking it would have been so nice to have him over to teach you something new. He was so happy to accept.

Slider is subtle in what he does and how he does his work, he learned it following Ice around during his first years in his Admiral carrier and perfect the rest working on his own projects at the Pentagon and around DC. He takes the all class up in the sky at five am, makes them run miles every time their manoeuvres aren't exactly by the book, gives homework and books to read, checks their rooms and confiscated their alcohol and cigarettes, and takes them to the veteran home and forgets them there for a whole day because he has to take Ice to try the new ice cream place, then comes back at eight in the evening, makes them run again, questions them about politics and tactics and makes them running a little more. But the worst is the inactivity: after spending days moving around like the world is going to end the second next to this one, he makes them sit in class st five-thirty in the morning and makes them wait. For an hour, then two and then three. It's eight-thirty and Slider is strolling in the classroom looking like someone who had the best sleep and coffee in his life while every single student is dying to sleep, drink something other than water and, generally, their poor brains are begging do something. Good morning class, today we have a nine-hour lecture, so get ready to have your world shake and you're going to learn stuff you're never going to forget.

Almost ten hours later, a break of thirty minutes around midmorning and Slider smiles and announces, candied as the day his parents baptized him, that everything has a reason in this life and a day of lectures on the culture of queer people, slurs, AIDS and flying is the bare minimum they deserve and he's going to make sure no one's name is going to end of the plaque because they don't deserves such an honour, or any honor, when they can't give the basic respect to a human, let alone to one of their superiors. And yes, every single one of them is going to get back in flight school, even if it will cost Slider and Maverick all the favours they have to ask, and not isn't just because of the comment on Admiral Kazansky, that was only the last straw and yes Viking you can call the President of the United States for all I care.

It's Wednesday again, it's raining outside, Maverick is making pancakes for three people, he doesn't have to go to work because he doesn't have a new class for at least another month and a half, Slider is looking around as if he was the king of the world and Ice is trying really hard not to ask what his husband and best friend did. He's going to read a report, a couple of days later, very detailed about everything that happened but by then Slider will be back in DC and Maverick will be fussing about taking a walk and looking to adopt a cat and starting a new hobby that will get them out of the house every time they can.

For now, Tom enjoys the pace and some delicious pancake, while Mav and Slider finish forging a strange new alliance, signed over the promise of mutual help and no question asked when needed.

#it was supposed to be a prompt bc i'm trying to prep at best for this afternoon lesson but apparently things got a little out of hand #ty grammarly to make this more redable but if u finds mistakes pls let me know!!#pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #ron slider kerner #icemav #mav & slider forming tentative friendship to protect ice: new trope #new class is full of homopobic assholes and mav can't punch them all so he does what he does best: creates avock #slider is more than happy to help #but he has important things to do to while he is in town!! like take his bbf to eat icecream #homophobia #slider has a power point for his ten hours lecture with pictures and videos and he wanted a report after #viking & skylab & empress are callsign names i found on google lol #ice is loved #but it's a pretest to fix things bc the navy won't do it #it becomes a ritual of sort: every year slider is around for a lecture at the beginning of the year and if pilots aren't okay with what-#-he is saying they can leave the program at the beginning so they can find someone better to put there #idk what the fuck i'm doing honestly i'm still tired from this weekend and stuff #married couple #au: iceman lives #(cancer is retriving and he's getting better every day)#post-movie #top gun: maverick #ice x mav #otp: i heard from the heavens that clouds have been grey

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milkywayan · 2 years

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my medieval friend and i have ordered some nice medieval things! all of it handmade!

a needlebinding needle for.. well, needlebinding, which is a thing similar to crochet to make socks, mittens etc, popular in the viking age; made out of bone, as they sadly didnt have them our of antler anymore

some medieval pins and sewing needles out of brass

a lucet, to make string, again popular in the viking age in scandinavia

a small mirror

and a comb out of boxwood with a leather pouch

as is obvious i am planning a bit ahead for the viking stuff i want to make next spring! very much looking forward to learn two new crafts in needlebinding and luceting!

#personal #medieval reenactment #reenactment #15th century project #medievalcore

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mythrojanmedieval · 4 months

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Discover the Timeless Charm of Medieval Clothing

In medieval times, clothing was an vital outlook of daily life and social prominence. The type of clothing people chosen to wore varied extensively based on factors such as social class, profession, and climate. Here is an synopsis of medieval clothing:

Fabrics:

Linen: Very often used for undergarments and lightweight outer clothing.

Wool: A extensively used fabric for outer garments, specifically in colder climates. It could be rugged or fine based on the quality.

Silk: Specially meant for the wealthier classes people due to its expensiveness and elegance. It was often used for premium garments.

Social Class Distinctions:

Nobility/Royalty: The wealthy classes wore detailed and splendidly colored clothing decorated with jewels, gold, and customized embroidery. Velvet and silk were common for royal people.

Commoners/Peasants: Their clothing was modest and made from low cost fabrics like plain wool or linen. Colors were more normal, and garments were practical for daily work.

Styles:

Tunics and Surcoats: These were common for both men and women. The length and style may vary to their preference, and medieval tabard and surcote were often belted at the waist.

Houppelande: Medieval Houppelande gown a baggy outer garment with a fitted bodice and wide, flowing sleeves, popular in the later medieval period.

Hoods and Headgear: Medieval hoods and chaperons were common, and hoods with tippets or liripipes were fashionable.

4.Footwear:

Pointed Shoes: Extremely popular in the late medieval period. The length of the points could vary dramatically.

Boots: Most common for outdoor activities and leather shoes were worn by both men and women.

5.Accessories:

Belts: Often adorned with viking leather belt with solid brass buckles and could be highly decorative.

Jewelry: Rings, brooches, and necklaces were worn, with precious metals and gemstones for the wealthy.

6.Layering:

Clothing was multilayered, especially in colder climates. This could include a combination of undertunics, overtunics, and cloaks.

7.Sumptuary Laws:

In some societies, sumptuary laws regulated the types of medieval clothing that individuals could wear based on their social class. These laws were intended to maintain social hierarchy and prevent lower classes from imitating the styles of the wealthy.

It's important to note that the specifics of medieval clothing varied greatly across regions and time periods, spanning from the 5th to the 15th century. Additionally, the availability of certain fabrics and styles was influenced by trade routes and technological advancements.

#battle #clothing #history #medieval #vintage

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