#geometric period

[cy-lindric]

She

[blueiscoool]

An Attic Pottery Pyxis Geometric Period, 8th Century B.C.

[lionofchaeronea]

A figure holding two tridents stands between horses. The scene has been interpreted as ritual horse-sacrifice, though this is not certain. Ancient Greek pottery fragment in the Geometric style, dating to the Archaic period (8th century BCE) and located in the Archaeological Museum of Argos. Photo credit: Zde/Wikimedia Commons.

[artschoolglasses]

Juglet, Geometric Period, Greek, 750-730 BCE

From the Acropolis Museum

[artifacts-archive]

Leech Fibula (Brooch)

Greek, Geometric Period (800–700 BCE)

This precious bronze object is a votive, or devotional gift, made as an offering to the gods. They come in many forms, such as animals, beads and brooches. Many seem once to have been attached to something else. Votiveswere hung from sacred trees or placed in sanctuaries around Greece. Once a shrine was full, the votives were ceremonially buried to make room for more offerings.

[fredersen]

i want to design/draw variants of sigilyph inspired by various types of ancient pottery sooooo bad

[yebreed]

The Warring States created and perfected their special "black and red aesthetic."

[Hanfu · 漢服]Chinese Warring States period(475–221 BC) Chu (state) Hanfu Based On Chu (state) lacquer figure

【Historical Artifact Reference】:

Lacquered wood figurines unearthed from Chu State Tomb in Shayang Tumbun Chu Tombs/沙洋塌冢楚墓出土漆俑

Collar cloth and robe unearthed from china Mashan Chu Tomb N19

【Histoty Note】Warring States Period·Chu (state) Noble Women Fashion

Many people may wonder why this set of clothing and hairstyles are so similar to Japan, but the fact is this kind of clothing and hairstyle existed in China at least 1,000 years earlier than Japan.

During the China Warring States Period, it was popular for aristocratic men and women to wear robes.

Lacquered wood figurines and robe with similar images have been unearthed from the Shayang Tumbun Chu Tombs and the Chu Tombs at Mashan, many of which adopted the "three-dimensional structure" technique.

For example, a roughly rectangular piece is caulked at the intersection of the robe's sides, skirt sides and sleeve armpits. At the same time, the lower edge line of the top and the upper edge line of the lower skirt are incrementally extended, and then sewn into one body. It is called "Ming three-dimensional structure".

Its ingenuity is that while the outer contour of the garment remains unchanged, it effectively expands the inner space of the garment body, making it convenient for people to wrap the garment from the front to the back when wearing it, without damaging the original collar and garment forms.

The attire of aristocratic women from the Chu state in this set was restored based on the lacquered wooden figurines of the Chu tomb in Shayang. Their foreheads and temples hair are fluffy, and they have a hanging bun at the back of their heads. They wear robes that are connected up and down, and are decorated with brocade inlays at the seams.

The wearing method is the "layering method", two robes are stacked together in advance and then worn as a whole. This allows the collar edge of the lining to be show parallel to the collar edge of the outer garment, and a section of the lining to be show behind the lapel.The brocade edge is decorated with a wide belt and fixed with double belt hooks.

This "layered" wearing method shows the layers and details of Chu people's clothing, and can also show the graceful beauty of the body.

In addition, many creative clothing styles and fabric patterns emerged during the Spring and Autumn Period and the Warring States Period, bringing with them the unique atmosphere, mysterious imagination and ultimate romance of that era, becoming our inexhaustible source of art.

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Recreation Work by : @裝束复原 Weibo 🔗：https://weibo.com/1656910125/NhBx1oi5n

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[tanuki-kimono]

Great example of everyday noragi (work clothes, worn by farmers for ex.)​ from Taisho period. Note the makisode sleeve shape, offering freedom of mouvement!

You can see the close-up of the weave, made from asa (bast-fiber like hemp or linen) and kamiyori (twisted paper thread​). Despite its "rugged" materials, weave is delicately interlocked with regular black stripes.

The coat also presents geometrical sashiko (white quilting), both reinforcing easily worn areas (collar, hems, inner center back), and decorating the garment.

PSA for writers: please please please don't put characters doing manual labour in "silk" kimono. I'll be forever grateful ;)

[titan-god-helios]

hello all !!!

i'm happy to announce that i'll be doing commissions for palestine in the same way that lots of other creators have !! you donate the minimum amount detailed below to a palestinian fundraiser (either individual or an organisation like unrwa) for the type of art you want, provide proof of donation to me, and i'll draw for you !!

please note that the art will be limited to bust shots of characters, as i am pricing it lower than i would a regular commission to ensure as many people as possible are able to donate for some art.

if you aren't able to donate the minimum amounts i've listed under my art after the "keep reading", you're free to donate however much you want, still providing proof of donation to me, and i can doodle something for you (same detail as the little guy in the image above).

if you can't donate, please reblog this post !!! it would help lots :3

WHAT I WILL DRAW: - furries - artistic nudity (nothing sexual however. i am a minor. keep that in mind please) - slight gore - fanart - pretty much anything apart from what i won't draw tbh

WHAT I WON'T DRAW: - mecha - backgrounds beyond geometric shapes and colours - sexual nsfw or very gory art - guns (unless provided with a reference of what you want) - actual animals

please note that i reserve all rights to post and share any art i make, although commissioners of that art will not be named if i post the piece.

again, note that the donations must be made and proved before i start work on the art. for pieces where i keep some of the proceeds (explained below the keep reading), half of the overall payment must be given upfront before i start work.

for pieces with lineart and colours i will send progress pictures of the sketches to you for approval, or to make any changes necessary, before i move forward with the piece.

i will not accept any commissions with a deadline of less than a month (for bigger pieces with either lineart, colours and shading or more than one character, i will need at least a period of 2 months due to schoolwork and other commitments of mine taking up time), i will accept a maximum of 5 commissions per month, and i reserve the right to refuse commissions if i am not comfortable with completing them.

rough sketch - £10

lineart - £15

lineart and flat colours - £25

---

if you want a piece with more detail or that is full body, i will be keeping part of the proceeds, but will still donate half of the overall payment to a palestinian fundraiser, which i will provide proof of for you. my prices for these are:

rough sketch (same quality as the sketches above, albeit full body and/or with two characters) - £20

lineart (again with full body and/or two characters) - £30

lineart and flat colours (full body and/or two characters) - £50

lineart, coloured WITH shading (full body, one character (examples below) - £70

please note that for every character added after what is specified above, £15 will be added to the base price.

i'll have my commission slot status in my bio !!

have a lovely day, free palestine !!!!!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Lies, damned lies, and Uber

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT in PHOENIX (Changing Hands, Feb 29) then Tucson (Mar 10-11), San Francisco (Mar 13), and more!

Uber lies about everything, especially money. Oh, and labour. Especially labour. And geometry. Especially geometry! But especially especially money. They constantly lie about money.

Uber are virtuosos of mendacity, but in Toronto, the company has attained a heretofore unseen hat-trick: they told a single lie that is dramatically, materially untruthful about money, labour and geometry! It's an achievement for the ages.

Here's how they did it.

For several decades, Toronto has been clobbered by the misrule of a series of far-right, clownish mayors. This was the result of former Ontario Premier Mike Harris's great gerrymander of 1998, when the city of Toronto was amalgamated with its car-dependent suburbs. This set the tone for the next quarter-century, as these outlying regions – utterly dependent on Toronto for core economic activity and massive subsidies to pay the unsustainable utility and infrastructure bills for sprawling neighborhoods of single-family homes – proceeded to gut the city they relied on.

These "conservative" mayors – the philanderer, the crackhead, the sexual predator – turned the city into a corporate playground, swapping public housing and rent controls for out-of-control real-estate speculation and trading out some of the world's best transit for total car-dependency. As part of that decay, the city rolled out the red carpet for Uber, allowing the company to put as many unlicensed taxis as they wanted on the city's streets.

Now, it's hard to overstate the dire traffic situation in Toronto. Years of neglect and underinvestment in both the roads and the transit system have left both in a state of near collapse and it's not uncommon for multiple, consecutive main arteries to shut down without notice for weeks, months, or, in a few cases, years. The proliferation of Ubers on the road – driven by desperate people trying to survive the city's cost-of-living catastrophe – has only exacerbated this problem.

Uber, of course, would dispute this. The company insists – despite all common sense and peer-reviewed research – that adding more cars to the streets alleviates traffic. This is easily disproved: there just isn't any way to swap buses, streetcars, and subways for cars. The road space needed for all those single-occupancy cars pushes everything further apart, which means we need more cars, which means more roads, which means more distance between things, and so on.

It is an undeniable fact that geometry hates cars. But geometry loathes Uber. Because Ubers have all the problems of single-occupancy vehicles, and then they have the separate problem that they just end up circling idly around the city's streets, waiting for a rider. The more Ubers there are on the road, the longer each car ends up waiting for a passenger:

https://www.sfgate.com/technology/article/Uber-Lyft-San-Francisco-pros-cons-ride-hailing-13841277.php

Anything that can't go on forever eventually stops. After years of bumbling-to-sinister municipal rule, Toronto finally reclaimed its political power and voted in a new mayor, Olivia Chow, a progressive of long tenure and great standing (I used to ring doorbells for her when she was campaigning for her city council seat). Mayor Chow announced that she was going to reclaim the city's prerogative to limit the number of Ubers on the road, ending the period of Uber's "self-regulation."

Uber, naturally, lost its shit. The company claims to be more than a (geometrically impossible) provider of convenient transportation for Torontonians, but also a provider of good jobs for working people. And to prove it, the company has promised to pay its drivers "120% of minimum wage." As I write for Ricochet, that's a whopper, even by Uber's standards:

https://ricochet.media/en/4039/uber-is-lying-again-the-company-has-no-intention-of-paying-drivers-a-living-wage

Here's the thing: Uber is only proposing to pay 120% of the minimum wage while drivers have a passenger in the vehicle. And with the number of vehicles Uber wants on the road, most drivers will be earning nothing most of the time. Factor in that unpaid time, as well as expenses for vehicles, and the average Toronto Uber driver stands to make $2.50 per hour (Canadian):

https://ridefair.ca/wp-content/uploads/2024/02/Legislated-Poverty.pdf

Now, Uber's told a lot of lies over the years. Right from the start, the company implicitly lied about what it cost to provide an Uber. For its first 12 years, Uber lost $0.41 on every dollar it brought in, lighting tens of billions in investment capital provided by the Saudi royals on fire in an effort to bankrupt rival transportation firms and disinvestment in municipal transit.

Uber then lied to retail investors about the business-case for buying its stock so that the House of Saud and other early investors could unload their stock. Uber claimed that they were on the verge of producing a self-driving car that would allow them to get rid of drivers, zero out their wage bill, and finally turn a profit. The company spent $2.5b on this, making it the most expensive Big Store in the history of cons:

https://www.theinformation.com/articles/infighting-busywork-missed-warnings-how-uber-wasted-2-5-billion-on-self-driving-cars

After years, Uber produced a "self-driving car" that could travel one half of one American mile before experiencing a potentially lethal collision. Uber quietly paid another company $400m to take this disaster off its hands:

https://www.economist.com/business/2020/12/10/why-is-uber-selling-its-autonomous-vehicle-division

The self-driving car lie was tied up in another lie – that somehow, automation could triumph over geometry. Robocabs, we were told, would travel in formations so tight that they would finally end the Red Queen's Race of more cars – more roads – more distance – more cars. That lie wormed its way into the company's IPO prospectus, which promised retail investors that profitability lay in replacing every journey – by car, cab, bike, bus, tram or train – with an Uber ride:

https://www.reuters.com/article/idUSKCN1RN2SK/

The company has been bleeding out money ever since – though you wouldn't know it by looking at its investor disclosures. Every quarter, Uber trumpets that it has finally become profitable, and every quarter, Hubert Horan dissects its balance sheets to find the accounting trick the company thought of this time. There was one quarter where Uber declared profitability by marking up the value of stock it held in Uber-like companies in other countries.

How did it get this stock? Well, Uber tried to run a business in those countries and it was such a total disaster that they had to flee the country, selling their business to a failing domestic competitor in exchange for stock in its collapsing business. Naturally, there's no market for this stock, which, in Uber-land, means you can assign any value you want to it. So that one quarter, Uber just asserted that the stock had shot up in value and voila, profit!

https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2022/02/hubert-horan-can-uber-ever-deliver-part-twenty-nine-despite-massive-price-increases-uber-losses-top-31-billion.html

But all of those lies are as nothing to the whopper that Uber is trying to sell to Torontonians by blanketing the city in ads: the lie that by paying drivers $2.50/hour to fill the streets with more single-occupancy cars, they will turn a profit, reduce the city's traffic, and provide good jobs. Uber says it can vanquish geometry, economics and working poverty with the awesome power of narrative.

In other words, it's taking Toronto for a bunch of suckers.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/29/geometry-hates-uber/#toronto-the-gullible

Image: Rob Sinclair (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Night_skyline_of_Toronto_May_2009.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

[lees-chaotic-brain]

swapped! (todoroki x reader)

summary: after you get hit with a strange quirk, you swap bodies with your long time crush and hero partner todoroki shouto. somehow, every single thing that could possibly go wrong goes wrong and chaos ensues. idea dump here

genre/content warnings: afab reader, reader has some sort of telekinesis quirk for plot efficiency (i got lazy sorry), suggestive, periods, reader is implied to have a heavy flow but it's really just for the plot to ensure maximal crack, mentions of blood, swearing, fluff, crack, todoroki is a little shit (when is he not)

wc: 5.9k (oopsies this is my longest fic to date)

note: this is for @andypantsx3's pretty boy summer collab! (sorry it's late andie) it is also one of my sponsored fics for @ficsforgaza's fundraiser! i couldn't fit all the scenes i wanted into the fic without ruining the flow, so go check them out and sponsor them if you want to read more! also everyone needs to go say thank you to @thelov3lybookworm for giving me the push i needed to stop making excuses and find solutions so i could post. thanks girl <3

i'm not sure how i feel about the ending, but i think it's as good as it's going to get! since i haven't written in a little while and things have been tough, likes, reblogs, and comments would be so so appreciated, and will help me get the next fic on my list done faster!!!

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The first thing you notice when you finally emerge from the depths of your slumber is how comfortable you were. Everything feels just right, your pillows are cool against your neck, and your sheets hold the perfect amount of warmth; enough to keep you cozy, but not so hot that your sweat is creasing the silky sheets and making you feel sticky and gross.

The second thing you notice is the very large, very male hand sprawled on the pillow next to your head. A deep male voice lets out a surprised cry as you jerk back, the hand moving with you.. It takes you several moments to realize that it had come from you. 

Your bare feet thump against the wood paneled floor as you stumble out of bed disoriented and realize where you are for the first time. Namely, not in your bedroom.

Glancing around in confusion, you wonder what the hell happened, and how you ended up somewhere so nice.. The space itself is fairly bare, but you can tell that all of the furniture inhabiting it is expensive. From the sleek wooden dresser to the geometric modern light fixtures to the insanely high thread count of the sheets, everything screams tasteful luxury. 

Where are you? You definitely feel asleep in your own bedroom. Reaching up you rake your hair out of your face and freeze. Instead of the familiar texture and length of your own hair, you’re greeted with short, silky soft strands that definitely did not belong to you.

Mussing your hair to make sure you’re not imagining things, you glance down, and for the first time notice some inexplicable things.For one, the ground is a lot farther away than it normally is, and for two, last time you checked you did not have washboard abs, or a male anatomy.

The entire situation was confusing, and you were still slightly sleep-addled. Despite that you knew that you needed to find a mirror. A quick glance around the room located one in the corner and you hurry over to it. 

Sliding to a stop you grip the edges of the little stand, frost spreading from your right hand to cover the wood while you gaped at your appearance.

Intense heterochromatic eyes stared back at you, shock filling them. Your hair was a unique mess of red and white strands, the two colors mussed with sleep. With those distinctive features, plus high chiseled cheekbones, a jawline that could cut stone and a slim yet unfairly muscular body there was no doubt about it.

You were Todoroki Shouto. At least, that’s whose body you’re currently inhabiting. His very shirtless body. 

BZZZZZT BZZZZZZT

Saved from having to fight your urges to poke at his abs by the noise, you jump, swinging your gaze around in search of the origin.

BZZZZZZT BZZZZZZT

A simple black phone flashes on the otherwise empty nightstand (does he seriously not even have a lamp??), the caller i.d. sending you scrambling across the room to the phone. 

Fumbling in your haste, you manage to swipe and pick up the incoming call from your cell phone.

Your mind is racing a mile a minute. There were only two ways to get into your phone. The first was the password, but even you forgot it most of the time. It sat safely tucked away on a post it in the safe you store all of your important documents in. The second was through face i.d. and the only person who could unlock your phone with their face was you. And since you were in his body, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume that he….Lifting the phone to your ear you speak hesitantly.

“Todoroki? Is that you?”

“Y/N?”

It was unnerving to hear your voice saying your name from the other end of the phone,

“What happened?!” You’re a little mortified to hear the hysteria lacing your words, but you can feel the panicked adrenaline flooding your veins as your body goes into fight or flight.

“I believe that the quirk we got hit with yesterday caused us to switch bodies. However, it is highly unlikely that it is permanent so it will be fine.” Even though it’s your voice, something about knowing Todoroki is on the other end was reassuring enough that some of the tension bled from your shoulders.

“That’s good.” You sigh, rubbing your face. There’s a mildly uncomfortable throbbing coming from your lower half, and you absentmindedly reach down to rub at it, forgetting you weren’t in your own body. Brushing against a bump in your gray sweatpants, you shiver as a familiar feeling spreads through your lower stomach and something twitches.

“Todoroki?” Your voice suddenly gets a little higher, the hint of hysteria from before returning to the normally deep monotone. “We have a problem.”

“What is it? Is something wrong?” 

Ignoring his questions, you stare in growing horror at the very obvious tent in the front of the sweatpants you were wearing. You have no idea how you didn’t notice it earlier, but now that you’ve seen what’s going on down there you can’t help but be extremely aware of the uncomfortable pressure. 

“Y/N? Please explain what’s going on. I’m growing concerned.”

“I-” You splutter, unable to form a coherent sentence. Finally you gather your wits enough to say something. “It’s uh, it’s hard.”

“What do you mean? What’s hard? Oh...” He trails off into embarrassed silence.

“OH?” You can’t handle this. “What do you mean ‘oh?!’ Do something!”

“Like what?” He sounds a little defensive. “What am I supposed to do from here?”

“I don’t know!” You’re shouting now. “But you have to do something! How am I supposed to sit here with your massive boner?!”

There’s a loud crash on the other end of the phone, and you jump. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” He answers a little too quickly, but his voice still retains his usual impassivity. “Anyways, returning to the problem at hand. It will go away on its own after a little while. Unless you would rather handle it yourself-”

“No!” You wince as you practically shout into the phone. “I mean, no it's okay. I feel like that would be unprofessional.”

You can hear the amusement in his voice as he responds. “I feel like this entire situation is rather unprofessional. After all, I did see your breasts this morning.”

There must be something wrong with your hearing because there’s no way he just said what you thought he did. In such a nonchalant manner at that. “Wha-What?” Embarrassingly your voice cracks as you rack your brain, frantically searching through your memories of the night before. Then it hits you. 

“You went to bed without pants, a shirt, and a bra last night.” He informs you matter of factly, and you must be going crazy because there’s no way that that’s smugness you’re picking up from him. “Judging from the temperature of your apartment I’d say that your air conditioning is broken. You should probably get that fixed.”

You’ve completely forgotten about the boner you’re currently sporting due to the mortification of it all. Of course the one time the two of you switch bodies it just has to be the day your AC broke and you went to bed in nothing but a pair of striped cotton undies.

A small part of you mourns that you weren’t wearing something sexier, but the larger part of you is screaming that he is your boss. Sure you’ve been friends for years, and you have a not so little crush on him, but you are his subordinate. This was going to make things so awkward in the office. Hopefully once this is all over you can go hunt someone with a memory erasing quirk down to wipe his mind. But maybe not yours. You kind of want to remember the toned planes of his abs and the impressive bulge in his sweats. 

Giving yourself a shake you chastise your internal voice. Absolutely not. That would be an invasion of his privacy. In fact, you should put on a shirt right this second to respect his privacy, not that he didn’t walk around with half of his hero suit burned off from time to time. Wait. A thought suddenly occurs to you.

“Wait. You have a shirt on now, right? You put on a shirt before calling me.” You laugh nervously, because of course he has more common sense than that. It’s not like he would just sit on the phone with you while your tits were hanging out, right? Right??

“Well no.” Your heart falls out of your ass and you accidentally sear a handprint into the edge of his nightstand at his casual answer. “It’s uncomfortably warm in here and without the use of my quirk I am unable to regulate my body's temperature. Aside from that, I don’t know where you keep your shirts so I prioritized calling you to discuss the situation over going through your personal belongings.

That all sounds perfectly reasonable and you would have fallen for it except for one little thing. “Todoroki. I know for a fact that I was too lazy to put my laundry away yesterday and there is a stack of clean t-shirts sitting on the end of my bed right now.” 

You hear rustling -is he still in your bed?!- as he leans forwards to check. “Oh. You’re correct. My apologies.” There’s more rustling and the sound of fabric sliding over skin as he pulls a t-shirt over his head. “It’s on now.”

“Thank you.” You pointedly ignore the fact that he did not sound the tiniest bit apologetic, filing it away to revisit later. For now, the two of you need to discuss what to do next. “I appreciate it. What’s the plan now though? I think we should meet at the agency as soon as possible and go from there.” 

“I agree.” He seems to lack the sense of urgency currently consuming you as he hums in agreement. It’s incredibly annoying. “We should probably give each other directions on what to do, and where to find the things we need.”

On second thought maybe it’s better that he’s calm and thinking clearly because that was an excellent idea. “That’s smart. I keep a pad of paper and a pen on my nightstand to jot down reminders if you want to use that. Where do you keep your paper?”

“Check my bookshelf.” The telltale sound of paper flipping told you that he found the notepad as you crossed the room and stopped in front of the simple wooden bookcase. “Where is it on your bookshelf?”

“I think I keep a notebook and a pad of paper on the middle shelf.” He sounds distracted and a little uncertain, but when you stoop down to check (it’s weird being this tall) you find a simple yellow legal pad and a black pen. “I got it.” 

“Okay.” The sound of a book closing accompanies his words and there’s a hint of some unidentifiable emotion lacing the two-syllables. 

Not thinking much of it you shrug it off, sitting down down at his desk and listening as he tells you where keeps his car keys, hero suit, and other necessities. You ask a few follow up questions, jotting down what cabinet he keeps his cologne and deodorant in, before launching into your own instructions.

“The first thing you need to do is start the coffee machine. Trust me. My body will not be happy unless you give it at least three cups of coffee or like two big energy drinks before 9 am. Next…” After you’re sure he has understood the importance of caffeine, you move on, explaining where you keep your clothes, car keys, and shoes, as well as where you parked your car. 

“Don’t worry about makeup or hair products or anything while you’re getting me ready. I know there’s a lot on my bathroom counter but it’s not necessary. But you do need to go into the first drawer on your left when you’re standing at the sink and grab my anxiety meds. They should be in an orange prescription bottle. Only take one. And please for the love of god do not forget to put a bra on. You got all that?”

“I believe so. Is there a specific outfit you want me to wear or should I just choose?” You stop and think. Left to his own devices there’s no knowing what he might put you in (his first hero costume proof of his abysmal sense of fashion) so it would be best to give him some guidance. “Could you just wear a casual sweater and some jeans?” 

“Yes. Let’s get ready and meet at the agency in about an hour. If that works for you.” There’s not much writing on the yellow legal pad, the black scrawl of your handwriting barely taking up half a page. Okay. It isn’t that much. You can do this. “That sounds good to me.”

“Oh, I also think it might be best if we kept this from the general employees at the agency for the time being just to reduce drama. Is that okay with you?” 

“Of course.” More than okay actually. Some of them were aware of your not-so-little crush on him, so it would spare you some teasing and interrogation.

There’s a couple seconds of awkward silence, and you get the feeling he wants to say something more, the tension crackling through the speaker of his stupidly expensive phone. Opening your mouth, you start to say something then realize you don’t really have anything to say. The awkward silence persists a couple seconds longer before he wishes you goodbye and hangs up.

Click. Click. Click. Clickclickclickclickclickclickclick. You didn’t even realize that you had started clicking the pen open and closed, a nervous habit of yours. Sheepishly you place the pen down on his desk and stand. Sure the vibes were kind of weird at the end there, but it’s not like anything worth making you nervous happened. The situation might not be ideal, but it wasn’t the biggest deal in the world. You could handle it. The worst part was already over. You just had to meet him at the agency, figure out what to do with the rest of the day, and wake up in your own body tomorrow. Piece of cake.

Gaping in horror, you realize that this was not, in fact, going to be a piece of cake. 

Getting ready had been easy enough so you had arrived at the agency a few minutes before your agreed meeting time, which fortunately/unfortunately put you in the perfect position to witness the walking shitshow.

You had been idly sipping at a cup of coffee, marveling at how many packets of sugar it had taken to make it acceptable to his taste buds when he staggered in, catching the eye of pretty much everyone in the lobby.

Hunched over weirdly, he staggered in, wearing a pair of jeans that rode just a little too low to be professional and a very white, very sheer shirt that was meant to be layered over an undershirt. Or, at the very least, with a sturdy, modest bra underneath.

Alas, you can only stare in abject horror at the sight of what everyone else would assume was you stumbling in, your nipples visible from across the room, the bra that should have been on your body clasped in one hand. 

You’re pretty sure you disassociated for a few seconds from sheer mortification, standing there unmoving for several seconds. Once you had processed (and gone through the seven stages of grief multiple times) you were bolting across the floor, seizing his (your?) arm and dragging him down the hall and into the family bathroom where no one could see.

Slamming the door shut behind you, you shove Todoroki/yourself into the small space, wincing as you watch him stumble in your body. Did you always seem this weak and small in his eyes? The sound of the lock clicking as you shut the door reminds you of the current situation and you turn on him, rage emanating from every pore of your being.

“I. Thought. I. Told. You. To. Put. On. A. Bra.” You’re hurt, and seriously pissed off, neatly trimmed nails digging into your thighs as you grip your pants. Humiliation courses through your body, pulsing behind your eyes in tears that you will not let fall, no matter what. “Is this some kind of joke? Are you trying to embarrass me-”

“No.” It’s disconcerting watching yourself speak and move, but subtle mannerisms remind you that it’s Todoroki you’re looking at, not yourself in the mirror. “I wouldn’t do that to you, I swear.”

“Then what is this?” You wave your hand at your body, flinching at what others must be whispering about you. “Do you want people to think I’m some sort of crazy person who goes around practically flashing people at their workplace? Someone who has no sense of decency?”

“Of course not.” His tone is as even as ever, but you can tell that he feels bad. “People here know what type of person you are. I’m sure they’re more concerned than anything.”

The fabric of his blue hero suit unscrunches as your hands drop to your sides, chest heaving as you take a deep breath. “I hope so.”

There’s vulnerability in your voice, and for a second you find peace in the quiet of the moment before he ruins it. “Besides, I’m more worried about my reputation than yours right now.”

You look up indignantly. “Why? I did everything you asked, and I’m fully dressed so I’m not sure why you’re complaining.”

He winces as your voice raises (maybe the coffee hasn’t kicked in yet) but he hides it quickly. “I mean, from their point of view, they just watched me forcibly drag my subordinate off and locked myself in a bathroom with her. They probably have all sorts of unseemly ideas about what I’m doing right now.”

You freeze. Shit. You hadn’t even considered what it would look like to the others. “I’m so sorry. We can explain this to everyone. Like you told me, everyone here also knows you, and that you would never do anything inappropriate.” 

“It’s fine.” He gives you a genuine, yet slightly strained smile. “I’m not too concerned. However, your body doesn’t feel great.”

‘What’s wrong?” You reach out and touch his forehead. “You don’t have a fever.” Glancing down, you sigh. “First things first let's make you decent. You literally brought the bra. Why aren’t you wearing it?”

“The best way I can describe it is it’s similar to the time I accidentally ate Bakugou’s extra spicy curry, except it’s not in my stomach. It’s more in my abdomen. And I meant to wear it, I just couldn’t figure out how to get it on.”

“Okay. I can help with that.” You motion for him to lift his arms. “Take off your shirt.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Is now really the time?” The bathroom is silent as you give him a death look. “It’s my body. There is quite literally nothing about the body you are currently inhabiting that I do not already know about. Now, shirt. I’ll help put the bra on.”

Understanding that you were not in the mood, he hurriedly pulls the shirt off, and you’re presented with the sight of your bare torso. Ignoring the strange intimacy of the moment (it was literally your own body you had no idea why you felt weird) you help him slip his arms into the straps, then motion for him to turn around. 

He complies, and that’s when you see it. The relatively small, but somewhat noticeable stain on your crotch in the back of your pants. That’s why he wasn’t feeling good. Your body started your period.

The clasp of the bra dangles in your hands as you stare at it, evaluating your choices. One. You could pretend like nothing is happening but chances are he’s going to have to pee at some point during the day so he’ll find out eventually. Plus the stain wasn’t small.

Two. Be the mature, rational adult you are and calmly explain the situation. After all, there was nothing to be ashamed of. It’s a perfectly normal, perfectly natural, biological function that comes with being a female.

And three. Just leave and go crawl into your bed until this nightmare is over. Let him deal with it himself. 

Option number three was looking pretty good there for a moment and you were calculating how fast you could escape the agency without drawing attention when Todoroki spoke. 

“Everything okay? Why aren’t you doing the hook things?” Snapping out of your trance, you clumsily clasp the back, taking several tries to get all the hooks in the same row. Patting it, you tell him to put the shirt back on before taking a deep breath. “Hey, Todoroki?”

Wisps of hair emerge from the neckline of your shirt, followed closely by your head as he pops into your shirt. “Yes?”

“So like, it’s going to be okay and I swear I’ll help you and I’m sorry you have to deal with this but please whatever you do, don’t freak out. Promise?” He tilts his head slightly, regarding you with confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you say it’ll be okay I don’t see why I would feel the need to freak out.”

His calm response puts you somewhat at ease, and you just rip the bandaid off. “My body just started it’s period. With you in it. That’s why your abdomen was hurting. It was period cramps. Don’t worry, I’ll get you some advil soon. There’s a small stain on the back of your pants, but it’s not bad yet. However, it’s really heavy on my first day so we’re going to need to get a tampon in and a pad on asap.”

A blank stare is your only response. “What…is a tampon? And what does heavy mean? Also, does it always hurt this bad?” A small furrow appears between his brows, and you can tell he’s overthinking.

“Normally it’s only this bad for a few days, but I’m used to it by now.” You reassure him, grabbing a tampon and pad from the free dispenser on the wall. “And to answer your question, a tampon is basically a fancy roll of material that goes up there and absorbs the blood.”

You’re doing your best to remain calm and unbothered on the outside, but on the inside you’re losing your mind because there was absolutely no way that you were about to teach your crush how to insert a tampon into your cooch because you managed to swap bodies on the worst possible day.

He looks at you pensively as you approach him with the hygiene products. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”

You pause, considering. How did you want to do this? It would be weird for you to put it in yourself, even if it was your body. The packaging crinkles in your hands as you turn the items over in your hand. The easiest route would be to have him just put the pad on, but you also didn’t want him to deal with the mess and discomfort of sitting in a pad. 

“Alright.” You clap your hands, the sharp sound echoing off the clean linoleum floors. “We’ll get a pad on first, then we’ll try the tampon. Ready?”

“Yes. How do I do that?” Okay. You can explain this. It’s not that complicated. “First things first, pull down your pants and underwear and sit on the toilet.”

A rustle of clothing and the click of the toilet seat against the porcelain bowl told you he had complied. “Wait, but like, don’t look okay. Keep your eyes averted.”

“Understood.” You choose to ignore the amusement in his voice, instead grabbing another pad and giving him a demo. Feeling guilty about the waste, you rip open one of the packages and pull out the pad. It’s thick, and made of cheap material like all free pads in public bathrooms tended to be.

Holding it up so he can see you demonstrate peeling the tab and unfolding it before peeling the sticky back off and showing it to him. 

“Basically you just have to remove the covering and stick it to the bottom of your underwear. Make sense?”

He nods, so you pass him the pad and watch him carefully peel back the appropriate backings and smooth it into the center of your panties. His eyes gleam at you hopefully as he looks up, and when you tell him he did a good job you could have sworn he preened. 

“Good job Todoroki.” A subtle frown pulls at his lips. “So for the tampon-”

“Shouto.” He cuts you off, looking disgruntled. “Call me Shouto.”

“I-What?” Thrown off guard by the sudden demand request you blink at him. “I don’t see how that’s relevant to what’s going on right now, but you’re my boss. It doesn’t seem right for me to address you so casually.”

“But you call me Shouto while we’re at work.” He stubbornly refuses to give the point up, clinging to it like a dog with their chew toy. “How is it any different?”

“Because-” You give him an exasperated look. “Some idiot decided to make his hero name his first name, so when he’s at work his co-workers are forced to use it. I don’t call you Shouto as in Todoroki Shouto. I call you Shouto as in Pro-Hero Shouto. That’s the difference.”

“But we’ve known each other for years.” He’s very matter of fact, clearly missing the point. “I would say we’re close enough for first names.”

He’s unbelievable. Of all the things to focus on right now why on earth is he choosing to argue over how you address him? “Of course we’re close. I consider you a good friend. But I wouldn’t say we’re close enough where it’s appropriate for me to address you by your first name when you’re my boss.”

“I’m currently in a bathroom with you right now, in your body, sitting on a toilet with no pants, on your period. I don’t see how we can possibly get any closer.” He had a point, and you just wanted to get this whole disaster sorted out as quickly as possible so you conceded. “Fine. Shouto. Now, will you please listen to me so we can get this over with and go on with our day?”

Using demonstrative hand motions and trying not to show how flustered you were you explained how to put the tampon in. Finally you finish, and hand him a tampon. He unwraps it, then hunches over in an awkward position trying to see what he was doing.

A red flush crawls up your neck as he quite literally examines your pussy, your insecurities running rampant, thoughts you’ve never had before occurring. Like, what if it looks weird? You didn’t exactly have a huge frame of reference, and all of your past experiences were horny hookups so you literally had no idea what it looked like from his point of view. He was probably repulsed by it. If everything that already happened hadn’t ruined any chance you had with him this was the final nail in the coffin.

A quiet splash cuts through the silence of the bathroom, interrupting your downward spiral. Looking up, you lock eyes with Todoroki, who’s frozen guiltily on the toilet.

“What just happened?”

“I, er, well I’m not sure.” Your eyes narrow. “What was the splash?”

“I did my best.” He sounds defensive. “I had a hard time finding…it…and it’s not easy to line it up and I think I did it wrong because as soon as I put it in it kind of just…spat it back out?”

Gaping at him, you’re at a loss for words before a loud, unflattering cackle rips itself out of your chest. The self-consciousness caused by the strangeness of the moment and being in the presence of your crush fading away as you reverted to treating him like you did in high school.

“Oh-Oh my god!” You’re doubled over, almost crying with how hard you’re laughing. “You can’t find it. You can’t even find the hole. You must be so popular with the ladies.”

As you laugh, a strange sensation builds in your stomach, and next thing you know it feels like you’re getting sucked into a vacuum and shot out the other end. Your vision goes black and fuzzy, the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom hurting your eyes when you finally open them.

When you finally open them and find yourself staring into the unimpressed face of one Todoroki Shouto that is. 

Seeing his face again instead of staring at yours is a relief, but it’s also unfortunate because now you are the one perched on the toilet, your pants hanging around your ankles and a tampon floating around in the toilet water beneath you. 

The two of you lock eyes, and you realize that now you’ve both returned to your own bodies it’s even worse that he’s seeing you half naked (don’t ask you why it just is somehow. Maybe it has something to do with him seeing it from his point of view instead of yours?). 

Embarrassment floods your face, and you yell at him to turn around, hurriedly grabbing another tampon and putting it in before using your quirk to retrieve the tampon from the toilet and dumping it into the trash. A rushed tug has your pants back on, and the two of you stand in the bathroom not moving or speaking. Finally you break the silence.

“Uh, well, anyways. I’m glad this all worked out, sorry for the inconvenience and how weird it was. I’m going to head home and enjoy my day off now. Have a nice day!”

Not giving him the chance to respond, you dart past him and out the door, ignoring him as he calls your name. Yeah right. Have a nice day? More like have a nice life. There was no way you could ever show your face around him again. Maybe you could call Kyoka up and ask her if she needed a new hero at the agency she shared with Denki.

Unfortunately, life doesn’t always go as planned, and you wake up the next morning to your phone buzzing. You called in sick the night before, partially because your cramps were really bothering you, and partially because you were avoiding Todoroki. 

Blearily, you roll over, pawing at your phone before lifting it to your ear. “Hello?”

“Good morning.” Immediately recognizing the smooth, deep voice belonging to none other than the one man you were actively trying to avoid, you do the only logical thing and hang up immediately. 

A couple seconds later your phone rings again, and this time you let it go to voicemail. The sharp trill of your ringtone reaches you through the pillow you pressed over your head, alerting you that he called several more times after that. Finally the calls stop, and you emerge from under the pillows, beating back the strange sense of disappointment rising in your chest.

Ping!

The sound of your phone chiming startles you, causing you to drop it. Picking it back up, you check your notifications with bated breath.

(1) New Message From: Todoroki Shouto

Scared to read the message, you hesitate to click on it, having no idea what to expect. Your thumb hovers over the banner, the light washing over your skin as you work up the courage to check it.

Ping!

Your phone lands on your carpet with a plop as you accidentally drop it over the edge of your bed, not expecting it to go off again.

Ping! Ping!

Cautiously, you poke your head over the edge of your bed, glancing down at the illuminated lock screen. You let out an internal screech of horror.

(4) New Messages From: Todoroki Shouto

Unable to deal with the agony of not knowing what he said any longer, you scoop your phone up and tap the notification, scanning the messages, your heart dropping further and further the more you read.

Todoroki Shouto: Did you just hang up on me?

I’ll be at your place in fifteen minutes. Do you want anything?

*image attached*

Also: are these the chocolates you’re fond of? I asked my mother and sister and they told me they enjoy chocolate when they are menstruating. 

Those are, in fact, your favorite chocolates, but as much as you wanted them you wanted him at your apartment in fifteen minutes even less. The sound of aggressive tapping filled your room as you typed out a response at breakneck speed, praying to whatever was out there that he wouldn’t actually come to your place.

You: Good morning Todoroki-San. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was you and hung up because I was half asleep. It’s sweet of you to think of me, but those are expensive. Also, I’m taking the day off today so is there any possible way the matter you have to discuss could wait until tomorrow? Thanks!

A couple seconds after you hit send, the little label beneath the message changed from “delivered” to “read.” Then radio silence. Anxiety bubbles up in the pit of your stomach? What does read mean? Did he agree with you? Is he still coming? Too drained to deal with the emotional turmoil this was causing you, you rolled over and pulled your covers up over your head. This was a problem for future you.

Drifting off, you were awakened a short time later by your phone chiming once, then again a few minutes later, and the sound of your doorbell ringing. Surely it wasn’t…Half-closing your eyes to shield against the harsh glow of your phone, you unlock it.

(2) New Messages From: Todoroki Shouto

Todoroki Shouto: I’m here. Open your door.

I didn’t want to tell you over text, but you aren’t responding. Bakugou says I have romantic feelings for you and I think he is correct. He also said you’ve been “a mooney-eyed moron” for me since we were in high school. If that is true and you do feel the same way, please let me in. I would like to see you and care for you while you are on your cycle.

Three dots appear, signaling that he’s typing. A couple seconds later, your phone chimes again, not even giving you a moment to process the previous messages.

Todoroki Shouto: Our former classmates also unanimously agreed that I am, in fact, popular with the ladies. I’ll forgive your comment if you let me in. The old lady who lives next door to you is giving me suspicious looks. 

You blink. Rub your eyes. Squint closer at your screen. The words didn’t change, and neither did their meaning. And Todoroki wasn’t the type of person to joke around like this. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, and your pulse thundered in your ears as you realized there was only one thing left to do.

You had to get out of bed and let him into your apartment.

taglist: @arlerts-angel @ponderingmoonlight @sunaraii @hotvinimon

as always, please please please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from any of my taglists. tysm for reading, and i hope you enjoyed it!!

[blueiscoool]

A GREEK BRONZE FINIAL

GEOMETRIC PERIOD, CIRCA 750 B.C.

3 3/8 in. (8.6 cm.) high.

[jaffababe]

Women of Sinai -Al-‘Arish

The Sinai dress is a masterpiece of art. Some dresses are predominantly red and are only worn by married women, while the blue ones are worn by widows. Dresses with a mixture of blue and red are an indication that the wearer has ended her period of mourning and is now ready to marry again.

The number of colors and the geometric designs embroidered by the women of Sinai on their dresses makes the latter a marvelous background for their kind of jewelry. It is the same as the Palestinian dress known as the Bir Sab' dress, with reference to the Palestinian area adiacent to the borders of the Sinai Peninsula.

The burgu', or veil, is an important piece of adornment worn only by the married Bedouin women of Sinai. It can almost be considered a piece of jewelry, for it is covered with quantities of hilyat, or round pieces of silver or white metal, or even gold, and sometimes old metal coins. The burgu is also sometimes adorned with a number of chains attached to both sides of the veil, ending in silver units covered with primitive designs stamped onto them, or ending with units of tube coral.

There are only two types of veil in Sinai, the short one worn by the women of the Akharsa tribe and with it a silver necklace or pendant, and the long veil worn by the women of the Bayyada tribe. Unmarried girls leave their faces uncovered so that young men may see their beauty and seek to marry them.

The Sinai Peninsula is inhabited by a number of Bedouin tribes who migrated to Egypt from the Arab peninsula and Palestine in ancient times. They settled, mixed, and intermarried with the different communities of inhabitants surrounding the peninsula, starting with the people of the Egyptian governorate of Sharqiya to the inhabitants of Bir Sab' in Palestine. The borders were open then and an active trade exchange flourished. Moreover, the Palestinian towns and cities were a market for Egyptian products. As a result of the intermarriages, there is a great resemblance between the jewelry worn in Sinai and the jewelry worn in Palestine, so much so that some jewelry workshops in Cairo specialize in producing the pieces of jewelry sold in Palestinian markets.

- Sinai: Land of turquoise (The Traditional Jewelry of Egypt)

[artschoolglasses]

Cup, Greek, Geometric Period, 735-710 BCE

From the Acropolis Museum

[deutsche-bahn]

Doodles of ancient Greek pottery from the geometric period.

the Elgin Amphora, 780-750BC, excavated in Athens

oinochoe, circa 725BC

skyphos, 740-720BC, with a one-bird motif that's typical for skyphoi made in Chalcis

pyxis with four horses, circa 740BC, attributed to the "Painter of London"

pitcher, 760-750BC, made in Attica

[armthearmour]

Arms and Armor of the Hallstatt Celts: A (not-so) Brief Overview

The Hallstatt culture is an archaeologically-defined material culture group. The typesite for this group is in Hallstatt, Austria, where a deep salt mine which had been in use since the Neolithic served as the lifeblood of the local community. A substantial cemetery of approximately 1,300 burials near the mine has helped to clearly define artistic trends associated with this cultural group. The culture is associated with early Celtic or proto-Celtic language speaking groups, and for a long time, was thought to have been the origin of the proto-celtic language. This idea has since been debunked, as it is now known the first proto-Celtic speakers predated the Hallstatt culture.

The Hallstatt culture is divided into four phases, A-D (henceforth abbreviated as Ha. A-D). The first two of these phases are associated with the end of the bronze age in the region, the last two, with the beginning of the iron age.

Since the defining of the culture in 1846, Hallstatt influence has been found from Eastern France to Hungary, as far south as Serbia and as far North as Poland. The core Hallstatt region covers much of Austria and Southern Germany. By the Ha. C period, distinct practices had arisen in the Hallstatt sphere of influence: distinct enough for academics to split the culture into two “zones”, the East and the West.

Unfortunately, due to the antiquity of this culture and the utter lack of any written records concerning them, the archaeological record is both relatively thin, and the only source of information available for these people. As such, in constructing a timeline of Hallstatt arms and armor, there will be substantial gaps which we can only hope will be filled by future discoveries.

Armor

Three types of armor are commonly found in Hallstatt contexts: belts, cuirasses, and helmets.

That broad belts (both of leather and of bronze) are considered armor in the ancient Mediterranean is clear from references in which these items are placed in context with other armor. In the Iliad, for example, in book 7 after Ajax and Hector meet on the field of battle and fight to a stalemate, they exchange equipment. Hector “gave over his silver-studded sword, bringing with it the sheath and well-cut baldric” (l. 303-304), while Ajax reciprocated with “his war-belt bright with crimson” (l. 305). Additionally, a short list of military equipment issued by the Neo-Assyrian empire recovered in Tel Halaf lists 10 leather belts alongside bows, swords, spears, and other arms and armor.

A number of bronze and gold belt plates survive from both the Eastern and Western zones, though most of these plates date to the Ha. D period.

While the majority of these plates are decorated with embossed and incised geometric patterns, some (particularly from the Eastern zone) include scenes of warriors on foot and on horseback.

The cuirasses of the Hallstatt period exhibit an interesting progression. In their most basic form, these bronze cuirasses remain essentially the same from Ha. A-D. They are characterized by essentially simple forms: a tubular breast and backplate which terminates at the waist and includes a tall standing collar to defend the neck. The earliest examples, however, include substantial embossed decoration in much the same manner as appears on the belt plates.

Only in the late Ha. B to early Ha. C period does this decoration begin to take on a more anatomical form; a group of seven cuirasses recovered in Marmesse, France in 1974 shows this evolution nicely. These cuirasses retain the same form, though a slight taper is now evident near the waist. The circular embossing closely resembles that of the previous period, however embossed lines are now apparent, and the placement of the embossing is such as to evoke the musculature of the warrior wearing it.

The final stage of the cuirasse’s evolution arrives in Ha. D. This form is much more plain, lacking the apparent horror vacui which typified earlier iterations of this style. Instead, the anatomical element is even more pronounced: embossing emphasizes the warrior’s pectoral and abdominal muscles, and additional circular bronze plates are riveted to the upper chest to simulate nipples.

The final element of armor with substantial enough evidence in a Hallstatt context to be addressed is the helmet. Unfortunately, surviving helmets are extremely scarce, and there is no pictorial evidence to consult prior to the Ha. D period.

Four helmet types appear both archaeologically and artistically in Hallstatt contexts. We will call these the crested, the plated, the double-crested, and the Negau.

Only one artistic example of the crested helmet is to be found, and no archaeological examples. It is to be found on a grave good in the shape of a wagon adorned with many figures made ca. 600 BC and recovered in Strettweg, Austria.

A find from Normandy (outside the Hallstatt sphere of influence) dated ca. 1200-700 BC shows what this type of helmet may have looked like.

The plated type is nearly as obscure, represented by only a single survival and a single artwork. The helmet, recovered in Šentvid, Slovenia and dated ca. 800-450 BC, is curious for the distinct pearly texture of its surface.

A number of similar helmets appear on a situla recovered from the Certosa Necropolis in modern Bologna, Italy. This situla is dated ca. 600 BC, and bears a striking resemblance to other situlae found in Hallstatt contexts.

The most well attested form of Hallstatt helmet is the double-crested type. This type appears with the onset of Ha. D, and sees use until the end of the Hallstatt period. It is attested to by several survivals

and numerous depictions on a number of situlae

and belt plates.

This type is so-called for the twin crests that adorn the helmet’s skull; crests which, as is attested by the pictorial evidence, served as anchors to large plumes likely made from horse hair.

The final type is named for a town in Slovenia where a large cache of helmets of this type was found in 1812. The Negau type appears at the very tail end of Ha. D, and primarily in Etruscan and Italic contexts. However a number of finds (including the eponymous horde) come from regions of Hallstatt (and eventually La Téne) influence.

Weapons

The weapons which can be found in Hallstatt contexts are very much the same as those found elsewhere in Europe, consisting primarily on spears, axes, swords, and daggers. The spears and axes of the period are very similar to those found elsewhere in Europe and across the Mediterranean in the late bronze to early iron age, and as such will not be discussed further.

Indeed, even the swords of the Hallstatt bronze age (Ha. A-B) bear no significant differences from other swords found in Central and Western Europe at the time.

It is not until Ha. C, and the advent of the iron age, when two new types unique to the culture emerge. Though similar, these sword types, called Gündlingen

and Mindelheim, are distinguished by a number of factors.

First and foremost is size, with Mindelheim swords averaging around 85 cm or 33.5 in in length, while the Gündlingen type only averages 70-75 cm (27.5-29.5 in). Another striking feature of the Mindelheim type which is almost non-existent on Gündlingen swords is a pair of deep grooves on either side of the blade. Additionally, Gündlingen swords are only ever found in bronze, while Mindelheim can be found in either bronze or iron. Gündlingen swords seem to have been tremendously greater in popularity, with only 27 examples of the Mindelheim type being known to over 240 of the Gündlingen. There is also a geographical element: the majority of Mindelheim swords have been found in the east from Austria to Germany, Poland, and as far north as Sweden. Gündlingen swords, by contrast, have mostly been found in the west, as far as Britain and Ireland. Neither type, however, can be found in the core Hallstatt Regions after the advent of Ha. D, when daggers become the primary funerary good of the elite.

Daggers, of course, were not unknown in Hallstatt regions prior to 620 BC. A number of survivals from Ha. A-B attest to the fact that single-edged daggers were popular.

With the advent of the iron age and the rise in popularity of the peculiar Hallstatt sword types, daggers become more rare, until once again they spring back to the fore in Ha. D. At this time, a particular dagger type is almost ubiquitous. This dagger has long, straight quillons mirrored by a tubular pommel. The grip is thin, and the blade is broad and double-edged. This same basic form is present, both plain and with various embellishments, until the end of the Hallstatt period.