#Epoxy line painting

[atlantalinestripings]

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[batslime]

[charlotstripingcompany]

Charlotte Parking Lot Striping Company

Our Services:

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[carolineparkingls]

[jareckiworld]

Dan Herschlein — In the Room Behind Your Eyelids (wood, plaster, joint compound, milk paint, wax, fishing line, epoxy putty, colored pencil and graphite, 2023)

[mystical-one]

Oo..el bobito

progress photos + notes 👇🏻 I was going to put a read more but it just kept messing up the order of images soooo um. 👍🏻

I started out by doing tiny concept sketches of what I wanted my guy to look like, and some rough ideas of potential proportions. From these I picked one, scanned it and printed it out to-scale (23cm head to toe), and used it as a guide when making my patterns and constructing the body.

Each leg has a little pebble in it to weigh it down, as well as the torso :)

After, I made some hands out of Epoxy sculpt. I refined and sanded them twice (once when they were half-dry, and then again the morning after) before giving them a couple coats of paint and blushing them with oil pastels and a brush. I put a little hole in each of them so that I could sew them onto the arms later.

I didn't take any progress shots of the jacket, but I basically eyeballed it and drew out some patterns I thought looked right and cut them out of some scraps from an old cosplay. Since I was working on such a small scale, I chose to glue the seams together and dab a thin line of fabric glue along the raw edges to prevent fraying. The buttons are made of small beads glued to the front.

After sewing the hands on, I began work on the head.

I started by feeding a folded pipe cleaner down the spine of the torso, leaving a length poking out of the top to be stuck through the head as support. I crocheted the base and pulled the pipe cleaner through it before stuffing + closing it, and then folded the wire into the head to stop it from slipping out.

The felting took me a few tries; I couldn't find the right wool colour at first, so after a while I decided to fluff up some of the same yarn I used to crochet the head and use that instead. A few hours of felting later, a little bit of black wool for the eyes and mouth, and it was ready to be blushed with pastels like the hands ^_^

The hair I rooted strand by strand, using small pieces of brown yarn split into 3 strands each and rooted using my felting needle. I worked in an inward spiral, and then filled out any thin areas with the leftover yarn.

Thus was born el bobito <3

[imreadydollparts]

This was a complete pain in the butt.

I found this G1 Waterfall Play Set on eBay for $15.

Obviously yellowed and broken. Sprinkles and Duck Soup were included, but not any of the accessories.

Deyellowing the cloud wasn’t that bad, though as you can see it’s still a little yellow. I didn’t want to leave it under the UV light for too long and can resort to spray paint some day if I decided it needs to be truely white.

That was the easy part.

Reattaching this very thin, brittle, load bearing plastic clip was not easy at all.

NOTHING I have would stick to that yellow plastic. Not super glue, not 2-part epoxy, everything I tried fell right off again.

On the other hand, the sticker was very easy to remove and I put it on a bit of paper covered in packing tape so that I could just as easily reapply it, later.

-

I thought I finally had it with the epoxy but as soon as I put the poorly-balanced cloud back on, the putty separated from the plastic and I was back at square one.

Then I was like...

You know, the one thing I HADN’T tried yet was hot glue.

I didn’t WANT to use hot glue. I wanted it to look as close to new as possible when it was done.

But I used the hot glue.

I used a lot of hot glue.

Then I slapped the sticker back on.

It’s ugly, but it worked. And yes, the pumps do work, but you might be able to see that the nozzle on the back of the rain cloud, where that yellow tubing connects, is actually broken off and now missing. I did get that reattached but then it came off again AND crumbled.

Since the yellow tubing now had to stretch a bit to fit on the nozzle, there is a pinch at the bottom that will likely result in cracking and leaking at some point down the line. Right now the tubing is still soft and pliable, and tubing isn’t all that difficult to replace.

So now we’ve gone from this:

To this.

So now I own my very first G1 My Little Pony play set at the age of 42, and have no idea where I’m going to put it... Nor do I know if I will try to get the missing accessories.

Sprinkles came out very good. She’s still a bit purple and her hair is glossy smooth.

Duck Soup is Duck Soup.

[maleficentmrsofallevil]

Can I just take a moment...

We all have our gripes about doll collecting, but there's one request that consistently drives me a little batty in the BJD collector world: resin matching. People will ask, "Can you please take a photo of a doll in this resin color and see if it matches that doll in that resin color?"

Hrrrnnnnnggggghhhh.

BJDs are made of 2-part epoxy resin. You buy two jugs of resin that you have to mix together and pour into a mold. A chemical reaction happens (rapidly), and the resin solidifies in the mold. You let it sit in there for a bit until it hardens, and then you pull it out.

This is what the two jugs of resin look like when you buy them:

They're clear. No color.

Every single ball-jointed resin doll I own was made with clear resin that the artist had to add color to. Now, companies generally have a "recipe" of color that they add to resin, so that resin colors are fairly consistent across a line of dolls. And sure, some 3D printer resins come pre-tinted.

But guys. Folks. People. You're never going to get a perfect, planned resin match. When you do, it's basically an accident. A happy coincidence. It's highly unlikely that resin will match when you buy parts from the same doll company at different times. Resin is a finicky little bastard. It cures differently depending upon the day, the humidity, whether it's in a good mood... Also, resin changes color with time and exposure to stuff like air and sunlight. So a doll you've owned for a year is going to be slightly different from the same doll made by the same company in the same color today.

When I see people painstakingly take photos of different resins from different companies, carefully labeling each head cap, I think, "Dude. Bust out some acrylics and just paint it."

Cuz you're never going to get that perfect match, except totally by accident.

And that's why I don't care if my resin matches. I know I'll either dye or paint the doll to match.

Eventually...

[solradguy]

Pardon if you've mentioned it before, I wasn't able to find it when I looked, what paints do you use for your 3D printed models? I'd like to do a bit more of it myself, but painting them it a whole other beast compared to the actual act of printing

It's ok, I don't think I've talked about the finishing and painting process as much as I have the actual printing ^^

You can use any acrylic paint on them or any other medium that doesn't have oil, so no oil paints or pastels. The oil will break down the plastic filament over time and make it extremely brittle. It miiiiight be ok if it's a resin print but I've never worked with printed resin before. Any sort of spray sealer can be used after painting. I use Krylon's matte or gloss sealer depending on how I want the project to look.

3D prints have layer lines and sometimes sanding them smooth can be hard. I use XTC-3D epoxy coating or Bondo spot glaze putty. The XTC is better (less sanding, smoother) but the Bondo is cheaper and easier to get (more sanding, a little more forgiving at retaining finer details). I've seen some people use wood filler too but I haven't experimented with that at all.

Good luck with your prints!!

[artsupplies-battle]

Art supplies battle

blood of my enemies VS synthetic voice bank

Glitter gel pen VS mayonnaise

Glass dip pen VS shitty cheap half empty pen

Graphite pencil VS Ribbon tool

Highlighters VS acrylic paints

Camera VS tones

Ballpoint pen VS vocoloid

Kneadable graphite VS watercolor pencil

Charcoal VS paper

Silver wire VS the shitty dried out markers from the artist briefcase

Digital pen VS the kickers brush they made

Nail art brushes VS hair

Glue dibber VS bleach

Blend tool VS found objects

Kneadble eraser VS harmonica

Yarn VS the sharpener on the back of a Crayola crayons 64 box

Water colors VS mouse (computer)

A cats little foot VS knife

Dirt VS Bobby pin

Rocks VS bow rosin

Photoshop VS Bic Atlantis ball point pen

Sketchbook VS knitting needles

Crochet hooks VS cintiq

Oil pastels VS washi tape

Bic mechanical pencil VS uv resin

Crayons VS disk (like a CD)

Sumi brush VS scanner

Ukulele VS rubber (condom)

Bass guitar VS roofei art kit

Waterproof pens VS Wacom drawing tablet

Fluffy watercolor VS gumi

Charcoal VS gold leaf

The notes app VS pencil (not specific)

Fingers VS toothpick

Tipex VS big tubs of paint

That dry pen you have VS processing

Saliva VS melted chocolate ice cream

Sugar VS prismacolor alcohol based markers

Money VS electric guitar

Rubber (eraser) VS kum pencil sharpener

Hatsune miku VS epoxy resin

India ink VS Copic markers

Tattoo machine+ tattoo ink VS MS paint

Lead pencil VS printmaking ink

Needle threader VS flip a clip

Curved needle VS vantablack

Sewing machine VS artists loft dual tip

Blue print VS my tears

Glitter glue VS beads

Ruler VS origami paper/ patterned paper

Prismacolor pencils VS sculpey

Macaroni noodles VS Mr. Super clear matte

Brain VS blood

Sharpie VS bark (wood kind)

Utau/ open utau VS the good pen ™️

Fake blood VS clay

Wooden human model VS fire

Icing bag VS clip studio paint

Posca pens VS cable needle

Fishing line VS ctrl +z

Rattlesnake VS human

ASCII VS 5$ crappy sketchbook

[mit3c]

hello, welcome back!! ok i don't know much about this but your dolls are so cute so, what kind of dolls are your ✨ original characters ✨, did you customise them to make them look like that (hair? expression??), how much would getting into the hobby cost, hypothetically (if you're comfortable sharing!) also their clothes are ADORABLE

thank you!!! and thank you again!!

the dolls are called nendoroid dolls!! maybe youve heard about nendoroids before, they are small super deformed figures with interchangeable parts. the company also has a line called "nendoroid dolls", which use the head of nendoroid figures with a fully articulated body. Full sets (hair, head, body, hands, clothes, standee) of licensed characters and original characters are available to purchase for uhhh id say about 8000-10000 yen I think?

Dolls stand a bit taller than nendoroids at about 11cm and have the same head, but a longer, fully articulated body and removable fabric clothes. those are my kimetsu no yaiba nendoroid and nendoroid dolls for comparison.

Then you can buy separate parts for customization. A body is sold with a few extra hands and a standee, comes in a few skintones (cream, peach, almond milk, cinnamon), and costs about 1500-2000yen. The blank head is something like 900 yen iirc.

From here you can either paint the head yourself or uses a service from the manufacturer`s website which is. basically a picrew where you make a face, pay 1500yen for a set of two, and they print it on a blank faceplate and ship it to you (only in Japan as of now I think). Thats what I did! I want to make slight repainting of my own but Ill do it when i move again and I have more space for hobby stuff ><

THEN What I did is, buy some epoxy putty (about 900 yen)

+ sanding paper, paint and matte laquer...... and sculpted the hair myself !!! :) again it was my first time doing smt like this so it was a lot of trial and error and i would like to fix my mistakes once i have more space ><

And thats it for the basics!!! Personally their clothes are a mix of stuff Ive sewn myself and things I bought (in Akihabara, Radio Kaikan theres a really nice shop with a ton of small sized doll clothes). And then you can buy extra hand parts from the manufacturer and have fun buying miniature stuff from hobby stores etc.........

So the amount of money you sink in this really depends on you I think and what you want to do..... but it does have a cost for sure. >< (but its also, really, really fun to have little guys on your shelf with swappable faces and clothes....)

[rotworld]

The Whole World Stopping, Just For You

you meet a werewolf at a craft fair. a distant prologue to goretober day 3: "ountumbered."

->contains feral and vaguely sinister behavior.

.

.

.

The box is what grabs your attention. It glints, catches the sun just right, as you’re walking by.

The vendor stands stiff and straight-backed in the shade of his tent and there are dozens of beautiful pieces all around him—rustic end tables, decorative hanging shelves, a table full of adorable, handmade birdhouses with more craftsmanship and creativity than most suburbs—but your eyes are on the box. The wood is unpainted, a warm, reddish-brown with an antique clasp, but the most remarkable part is the lid. You mistake it for a slice of geode at first because it has the same luster, brilliant blues and ingidos with a glassy shine. A speckled arch of silver makes you think of clouds or mountains against the night sky.

By now, most vendors would have started chatting you up, but this one’s completely silent. He hasn’t moved at all since you walked over or made a single sound. His hair is short but wild with his bangs hanging in his face, his eyes a striking shade caught between green and amber. He’s wearing a tank top that shows off thick, defined biceps and jagged lines of scar tissue. You have to break eye contact because his stare is just a little too intense and your gaze meanders just slightly past him, a banner stretched along the back of the stall bearing the words “Shelter Mountain Pack.” 

A small sound of surprise slips out before you can stop it, something not quite a word. You’ve only met city wolves before, never a wild one. Rumors paint a dramatic picture of feral marauders who run through the woods naked with leaves and twigs stuck in their hair, but you always figured people who said that were full of shit. He looks like anybody else save the yellowed hazel of his eyes, but his complete silence and stillness unnerves you more now that you recognize it for what it is—a predatory animal spotting something of interest and watching, waiting, with bated breath.

“This is beautiful,” you tell him, your hand still on the box. You’ve been stroking the lid absently, your thumb rubbing over curves of silver. 

He grunts. The sound is deep, feral and sends a shiver down your spine. You must be giving off some sign that you’re wary—could be your heartbeat, your posture, even your scent—because he covers it by clearing his throat. “That’s cherry wood,” he says. “Got that color with a coat of shellac. Lid inlay’s epoxy resin. Don’t usually work with pigments or paint, but I thought I’d try something new.” 

You drift further into the tent and he turns, following you with his eyes, as you admire meticulously carved animal figurines, sturdy planters, and even more ornate boxes with intricate patterns carved into their lids and sides. You pick one up for a closer look, smoothing your fingers across patterned carvings, the leaves of a tree rendered in precise detail. “Everything in here is incredible. You make all of these yourself?” you ask. 

You hear a brisk exhale. “It’s all me. Can’t get anyone else in the pack interested in woodworking.” His gaze burns into your back as you set the box down. You pick up another and your fingers brush against a circular indent in the bottom. Flipping it over, you find a stamped signature, a stylized outline of a mountain with the words “LANCE - SHELTER MOUNTAIN” inside. No last name. Is that normal? Do wild wolves not use surnames? You’re curious but you don’t want to be insensitive. Gently, you set the box back down.

There’s a sharp huff, the kind of sound a dog makes. You look back just in time to catch a slight twitch at the corner of his lips, an almost-smile. “Don’t have to be so dainty with my stuff,” he says, jamming his hands in the pockets of his ragged jeans. “You scared of getting your scent on it? It’s not a big deal, seriously. Wouldn’t be here selling to humans if I couldn’t stand the smell.” 

“Oh,” you say, a little embarrassed. Lance doesn’t seem bothered, though. He gets a bit more talkative the longer you poke around his tent, more than happy to tell you about his pieces, how long they took to make, his personal favorites. Everything has a story—a whim one sunny afternoon, a bit of inspiration from a bird he saw. He shows you a paperweight shaped like a napping cat and there’s a craftsman’s warm pride in his eyes as he tells you how he carved it and sanded it down and added just a bit of darkening finish to the ears and tail. He favors nature patterns, you notice, lots of plants and animals depicted in his more decorative work. 

In the end, though, you go back to the box. That starry, winter sky pattern across the top pulls you in again. You cradle it in both hands, your thumb smoothing across the resin. “Do you take card?” you ask him. 

It’s like flipping a switch. All of his casual, carefree body language vanishes and he’s guarded again, frowning tightly. “No,” he says. He follows your gaze down to the card reader sitting on the table in front of him, a white touchpad cradled in a beautiful wooden dock, and lets out a long sigh. “Are you in a hurry?” he asks. “One of my packmates is around here somewhere. He knows how to work that thing.” 

“There’s no rush. But if it’s easier, I can just find an ATM—”

“It’s not a big deal. He’s supposed to be back here anyway,” he insists, fishing a cheap flip phone out of his pocket. You keep browsing while he sends a slow, clumsy text, bending to look at a squat storage cabinet. The door panels are carved with simple but elegant flowing designs, floral Art Nouveau whirls and a thin, leafy border. “Are you local?” Lance asks, leaning casually against the nearest display table. “I don't recognize you.”

That would strike you as an odd comment from anyone else. This isn’t a huge city by any means but it’s not a tiny town either. You can’t fool a wolf’s nose, though. He’d know if you’d been by his stall before. “I’m just passing through,” you say. “Saw a sign for the craft fair and thought it’d be a fun detour. I still have a long drive home ahead of me.” 

“Are you headed east? Through the mountains?” 

“Yeah.” 

He makes a softer grunt, glancing at the sky. “Gonna be dark before long,” he says. “Better not take those roads at night. You could stay with us, if you want, head out fresh at dawn. We’re only an hour or two up the mountain.”

The invitation completely blindsides you. Wild wolves don’t do things like this. They don’t tell you, even vaguely, where their packs live, and they certainly don’t invite you to waltz right in. “I’m not sure your alpha would appreciate that,” you say, laughing nervously. 

Lance grins. His teeth are somewhere between yours and a dog’s with prominent canines and everything just a little too sharp. He leans in across the table and speaks in a low rumble. “Well, seeing as I am the alpha, I don’t think you have to worry about it.”

He’s close enough that you notice his scent for the first time, an earthy musk like grass and rain. You’re frozen in place when he reaches for you, holding your breath, waiting for something you can’t name. His fingers smooth across the back of your hand, nails long and a little sharp. He never breaks eye contact as he takes the box back from you and you see his nostrils flare, his pupils dilating. 

“Blake,” he says, and you jump when someone brushes past you to get into the stall. You catch yourself against the table and realize you were leaning in, shifting closer to him without even realizing it. “Need you to run a card.” 

The new guy is slimmer than Lance and looks much softer in comparison, wearing a cardigan sweater and fully intact jeans. His hair is longer and much neater, held in a low ponytail with his bangs combed out of his face. The color is unusual, black with uneven veins of stark white and gray, reminiscent of the streaks in a gray wolf’s fur. Lance moves aside, finding a different table further into the stall to lean against. He still hasn’t put the box down since he took it back from you, and he’s staring intently at the lid. 

“Sorry for the wait,” Blake says, flashing a practiced customer service smile. “Just the keepsake box, then, or are you still browsing? Lance can be a little standoffish, but I promise he doesn’t mind you looking around.”

“I heard that,” Lance mutters.

“Just the box,” you say. Sticking your card into the reader, you add, “He’s not so bad, actually. He told me all about his work. I don’t know much about carpentry and stuff like that, but I can tell he’s really passionate.” 

There’s a pause, and then Blake says, “Really?” The word doesn’t come out in a mild, smalltalk kind of tone, but with legitimate shock and disbelief. You find him staring in the same intense way Lance did when you first walked up. He turns back to Lance and they look at each other for a moment in silence. 

“I invited them,” Lance says, the words slow and deliberate, “to spend the night with us.” 

Blake turns back to you slowly. You get the feeling that he’s really looking at you for the first time, not as a customer but as something else. His gaze is heavy, weighted with expectation. Soft surprise morphs into realization of some kind. You feel uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny. “I don’t have to,” you assure him. “I don’t want to impose or be in the way, and I’m sure I could find somewhere to stay in town—” The card reader beeps and you reach to take your card back. Blake’s hand catches yours, his fingers closing like a snare.

“You’re more than welcome,” Blake says. His smile is broad and warm and irresistibly charming, his thumb stroking the back of your hand in soft, soothing motions. “More than welcome. It’s no trouble, really. There’s plenty of room. We’d love to have you.” 

“If you’re sure,” you say, a little uneasy. Blake lets go of your hand with a sheepish smile. It doesn’t bother you that much. Wolves, no matter where they live, tend to be touchier than most people. 

“Did you tell the pack?” you hear him ask, his voice lowered.

“Texted Max a little bit before you got here,” Lance murmurs. “Word’s spread by now.” He shoulders past Blake, around the tables and out of the stall. You smile, expecting him to hand you your box. He does. And when you take it, he snags your wrist and drags you into a firm embrace, burying his nose in the crook of your neck. He takes a deep breath and lets out a shuddering exhale, hot breath fanning your throat. You’re startled and a little nervous, staying perfectly still while he noses against your skin on one side and then the other. That’s a scenting thing, right? They do that to each other sometimes. Maybe he’s making sure the pack knows he invited you? That makes sense, you think. 

But then he stops and pulls back far enough for you to see his face, and you’re not so sure anymore. His pupils are blown, his eyes half-lidded. His tongue darts out and you see a brief flash of a prominent canine as he licks his lips. “Well,” he says, squeezing your shoulder, “I’ll grab the truck and you can follow me up. Where’re you parked?” You look from Lance to Blake, bewildered. The fair’s still on for a few more hours. You really don’t want him going out of his way like this. 

Blake seems to pick up on your worry, though, waving you off with a smile. “You’re fine,” he says. “Someone else from the pack will be here later. Lance just wants to make sure you get there in one piece on those awful roads. Easier with some daylight left.” 

You take his word for it, partly because he really does seem excited to have company, and partly because Lance starts walking and you have to rush to catch up with his quick, long-legged stride. The crowd thins as you leave the mazelike aisles of craft vendor tents. You pass into the shadows of a parking garage, wrestling with an odd, uncomfortable feeling. The hair on the back of your neck is standing on end. Something feels wrong. You clutch the box to your chest. The wood is warm where Lance handled it.

“You’re really sure this is okay?” you ask him one last time. “I won’t be offended if you change your mind. I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes, especially if your pack isn’t expecting visitors.” 

“It’s fine. Don’t worry so much.” He sounds a little exasperated but he’s smiling very slightly, his hand resting on your back. “I gave them a heads up so they know you’re coming. And trust me,” he says, his voice dipping into nearly a growl, “they can’t wait to meet you.” 

[kazeharuhime]

Made a thing and decided maybe it's decent enough to post. Links to refs, the blank, and rambles under the cut.

Flora: Flos adonis. "Painful recollections" in flower language according to Catharine Harbeson Waterman's Flora's Lexicon (1840).

Fauna: Flying fish. I use these as symbols for Wotrens in general, but Tsuname in particular has a scene where he glides over the ocean and enjoys a moment of freedom, so I think he best exemplifies the whimsy that is the flying fish.

Object: Marble. In hindsight though I should have picked suncatcher, that would have been a lot more symbolic, especially considering I have an old picture of him trying to catch the last rays of the sun. Well, marble will do in a pinch I guess. My thinking was a silly pun involving losing his marbles, also it being a lone marble to imply "where did the others go?" Also chose a clear one as part of the symbolism too. I went through a number of objects for him before settling on marble. Originally I was going to do "window" but couldn't find a ref I liked for it. Then I thought of "tide pool" but that's more a place than an object. Then I thought maybe one of those epoxy resin arts, but there's something really artistic and delicate about those that felt a little bit off to represent Tsuname. But yeah. He's transparent but also shallow some ways. So that's why it has to be a marble or something not that deep. Shallow in the sense that you don't have to reach very far to see what's going on inside. That's why I was thinking glass at first. Window because you can easily peer inside and see what's going on. Tide pool for a similar reason. It's not that deep, you can scoop up some crustacean crawling around in there and look at it. Also sea-theming is very important for him.

You know what I just remembered... 'bracelet' is an object that has more significance in-story. I guess it less represents him though and more his devotion to Sh'zkai...

Song: The Name of Anger by Rurutia. I also could have picked Meltdown by Lollia, but decided they both exemplify Tsuname in different ways, so I didn't need to swap it out. For the one I chose though, it's chock full of symbolism that I think really fits Tsuname well. I think of it typically in the broader context of the invasion he experienced, so in some ways, Meltdown feels a bit more personal than The Name of Anger does for Tsuname. Meltdown I associate more with his ongoing mental battle, whereas The Name of Anger deals far more with the past and how it contextualizes the present. The opening line translates to something like "The ladder of light collapses." This 'ladder of light' I think of representative of hope, but also with like a tractor beam. The light is 'collapsing' which means the beam is disappearing, and with it, any hope of getting back those that were taken by it. "Innocent live sink to the mud." . . . "Overflowing from the ark are the tears of lost children." That last one I associate with the Gaediens who were taken. "My hands transform into swords; my ventless anger continues to spiral" Feels like a fast-forward to present day Tsuname, who has become a weapon against his will and his hands are now swords, and his pent up anger from the horrors he endured spills out everywhere. Lastly I love the picture painted by this line: "The jet-black sea winds whirlpools." There's not many good translations of the song online but you can find the original lyrics here: (x) I am for sure taking some creative liberties in my associations but XD that's the rub.

Feeling: Kuebiko. I abridged the definition quite a bit on the picture to get the text to play nice.

And yes, I did ref the Ocarina of Time scarecrow because it was simpler to draw than trying to figure out how to abstract a proper photo of a scarecrow. XD;

There's a lot of interesting gems in the etymology of kuebiko as well that fit Tsuname:

Kuebiko comes from kueru (崩える), an archaic verb meaning "to break down; to become shabby and disordered", plus hiko (彦), an old epithet for "boy, young man", in turn from hi ko (日子), literally "sun child".[1][2][3] The meaning could be translated as something like "shabby young man".

Yamada no sohodo is formed like an old-fashioned formal name, from surname or literal noun Yamada (山田, lit. 'mountain + paddy'), genitive or possessive particle no (の), and sohodo (案山子),[4] in turn from soho ("sopping wet") + -do, a contraction from -bito, the compounding form of hito (人).[5] The meaning of this name could be construed as "soaked person of the mountain paddies", a euphemism for "scarecrow".

As for the kami aspect of the etymology, at first I thought he had nothing to do with folk wisdom, knowledge and agriculture, but if you think on it, maybe a little. For one thing, when he returns to the island he has a lot of knowledge of how things work out in space that no one else has, so in one sense he is sort of this oddity. Folk wisdom could be turned on its head because his devotion to what he grew up believing is a big part of his character, but he lacked the proper nuance about the belief, so this "folk wisdom" doesn't exactly pan out when he doesn't understand how it applies to the real world (or doesn't). Agriculture was the one that I thought... no, not at all, but thinking on like... the connotations of agriculture, like "living on the land" -> "devotion to the land" -> "devotion to one's home and native land" could be something.

But anyways, the TDoOS definition definitely pulls more from the latter half of that opening sentence from the wiki:

"Kuebiko (久延毘古) is ... represented in Japanese mythology as a scarecrow who cannot walk but has comprehensive awareness."

Going back to the literal meaning, "shabby boy/sun child" really fits Tsuname well. Broken down, made shabby and disordered by his past. I often associate Tsuname with the sun in a lot of ways too. His original sunny disposition, overshadowed now by the horizon, making "sunset" another potent symbol for Tsuname's present psyche.

The second name for Kuebiko in Yamada no sohodo I also thought was kind of interesting, since being a fish boy he often does drag himself out of the ocean sopping wet, but also the connotation of sopping wet with "pathetic" feels of portent. XD

Hmm. Knowing what I know now it feels kinda weird to associate him with this word, but, I guess TDoOS is useful for describing feelings!

Anyways here's the link to the blank: (x)

Thank you if you've read this far. XD

[carolineparkingls]

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[twigg96]

(Basthr0mnse) What do you think all of the boys smell like on the day to day and/or their signature go-to fragrances are when they dress up for events?

@Basthr0mnse 👀 ya know…. I never really thought about it before 😂 but I fucking love this idea!! I agree with you I think they smell different when they are just doing guy things vs when they are at fancy places Charles makes them go to. So let’s find out what that is!

Nathan- Nathan’s go to fragrance is Old Spice Deodorant. He’s fond of the Fiji “flavored” one. (Yes he did in fact take a massive bite out of a stick of one. No it did not taste like Fiji… he didn’t like to talk about it.) But more often than not he smells like stale the booze he spilled on himself, a subtle hint of man sweat, and whatever chips are on his breath. Now… all that changes when he puts an effort in. Nathan still wore Old Spice but instead wears the scent Bearglove paired with the smallest spay of Original Old Spice cologne. Nearer the end of the night his man smell re-emerges but it isn’t as strong until the morning after.

Pickles - this man smells like weed. There’s no getting around it. He smells like he’s smoked a bowl 24/7. But he tried to cover it up with various colones. Most were cheap skunky smelling. However there were a few gems in the rough that really smelled good. They weren’t strong enough to cover his natural weed smell but they worked with it. On bad days however, when he binged too much. He just smelled like old vomit. But when he was all cleaned up, his dreads still had a feint aroma of weed, which was comforting in a familiar way. However he bathed in Cremo Bourbon Vanilla body wash before dressing to the nines in his favorite suite which he was always told was off limits to any smoking of any kind. His favorite cologne for special occasions was called Yellowstone’s Ride and was a sweeter more seductive scent.

Murderface - this man has a unique smell to him that can not be replicated. It’s a mix of medicated deodorant, grease, gasoline from his hot rods, the sweet smell of whatever booze he was drinking earlier in the day on his breath, and the coconut oil he puts in his hair. To say it’s an unpleasant smell would be a lie. It’s just an acquired smell that someone would have to get used to. It was Ode De William. However freshly out of a shower and when he brushes his teeth is when William smells the freshest. He doesn’t bother with any fancy BS. He is always going to smell like Degree Clinical Strength deodorant there was no hiding it. But he at least smelled like the subtle smell of his aftershave and lotion, an almost menthol richness that cooled the skin and made his skin feel baby soft while also cooling the lips of his partner when they kissed it.

Toki - this boy smells like the epoxy used to make his model air planes, the paint and primer he uses to paint them with too. He smells like wood chips, coal ash, leather, and metal dust when he works with the gears in the early morning before every one else wakes up. His hair always smelled of Heads and Shoulders 2 for 1 Shampoo and Conditioner. His sweat has a distinctive scent to it depending on the circumstances. Normally it’s very musky but it never smells bad. That changed however whenever he was stressed or when his sugars went too high. Then he stank to high heaven. Toki didn’t normally wear any deodorant or cologne however. He didn’t believe he needed any. This really didn’t change much when he went out somewhere special. Toki put some light smelling cologne on and washed with Irish Spring soap.

Skwisgaar - on a normal day Skwis smelled amazing. He took pride in his self care routine. The secret however was that he never used anything that was scented. He used all natural, organic ingredients to make his own unique soaps and shampoo lines that were astronomically expensive. He made oat milk and coconut butter conditioners perfect for curly hair. Shampoos made of oil lifting ingredients that also were gentle on the hair follicle. And a curl mask he kept in at night that was made of iced Aloe plants. His breath on the other hand… could use work. He brushed but not regularly enough to be called a routine. He just let the sour taste in his mouth tell him if he needed to brush or not. Which was unfortunate for his kissing partners. But no one ever complained. When he had to go to a fancy event he smelled like he walked out of the cologne section of a mall. He doused himself in $100,000 cologne that smelled to some like musky old man. To others however it was the most sensual thing in the world (to each their own). He changed his whole routine to be more “masculine” smelling for the ladies. Unfortunately he always managed to break out in hives after any formal event due to the cologne so he needed a few days of Benadryl and rest before he could do anything else.

Charles smelled like wood smoke, old leather, and paper and ink from the office. He did not sweat. It was just not something he allowed himself to do in front of others. But his cologne was distinct and distinguished, it smelled of leather, woody earthy smells, with a slight musk that would sweep anybody off their feet. None of this really changed when he went to formal events. His moto was “be ready for anything” whether that be to care for his bois mistakes at a press conference, meet the king of an important country, manage PR at a concert or party, or simply look good on a date. The only subtle difference in his scent was that he managed to smell like the dry cleaning he used.

Magnus smelled like metal shavings, gasoline, car oil, and grass. Being a mechanic he was often covered in some kind of smelly substance or another. On slow days at the shop he smells like rubber smoke from tires he had to burn. His sweat didn’t smell bad. It smelled of the hard work he put in for himself and his family. On date night however he bought the fanciest cologne he could afford and spritzed himself liberally. He brought out the fancy shampoo but he still smelled a little like work, which was calming to his partner. They’d never want him to cover up who he really is just for them.

[vaimetanyx]

"...Stygius, the Blade of the Underworld, must have been amongst the finest weapons ever wielded..." - Stygian Blade entry, Codex of the Underworld.

Unfortunately this one isn't so fine and needs a remake, but here's how it was made while I work on Stygius 2

(Full process under the cut)

[Skull pauldron] [Belt] [Greaves] [Toga + sash] [Wig + Laurels] [Armbands] [Flaming feet] [Satyr Sack] [Stygius v1] [Stygius v2] [Nectar]

Unfortunately Stygius was the victim of con time crunch, and I wasn't even sure I'd be able to make the rest of my outfit in time for the con so Stygius, as a prop, had the lowest priority. But hey for a sword done from scratch in a week, not too bad.

I guessed all the measurements (which ended up making Styg 1 a hand and a half sword instead of the one handed sword it should be) and made a pattern. From there I was able to cut out a base, attach a handle, and then cover it in EVA foam. I then proceeded to so a VERY wonky job on the blade bevels, and even took a few chunks out, which meant I had to use foam clay on some parts of the edges which ended up leaving an inconsistent finish once it was painted.

For the skull I used spare EVA foam for the base, built up the bulk with aluminum foil and hot glue, then used more foam clay to sculpt the features and create depth (and ideally for that thickness it should have had several more days to set). The leaves were just some cut and dremelled EVA foam, and the pommel base was, you guessed it, more EVA foam and foam clay.

The gem was made from epoxy resin, and poured into a mould I made out of cardboard, sticky tape and some plastic lining, and coloured with some watercolour pigment. Somehow that actually worked.

I primed the whole thing with plastidip, and next was Spray Paint Hell. I had to do it all in one day, and the masking tape I was using to protect the parts I'd already done started pulling off the actual paint and sometimes the plastidip when I tried to remove it. I don't have a lot of experience with spray paints so my coats also weren't to the standard I wanted, and there was overspray despite my best efforts.

The spray paints I used were cheap and it showed. So I decided that they would be a base coat, and that the whole thing should be hand painted over most of the sections in order to achieve the correct colours, and in the case of the skull, match the other bone accessories. My sister helped do a lot of the base coats while I was at work so I could focus on detail work when I got home, and even there I was still painting the night before.

To tie everything together I did a few coats of gloss spray the morning of the con. Unfortunately, it didn't quite dry so it stuck to the surface it was resting on when I did the other side, which caused most of the paint defects. However, it was finished in time for the con and luckily the worst of the marks were on the back.

The main issue to address with Stygius 2, besides not doing an absolute catastrophe of a paint job last minute, is to fix up the hilt. It's too long and thick, the pommel is too chunky and badly shaped, and the gem is the wrong colour. The skull could also use more sculpted depth and a bit more shading to make it really stand out.