#ulu knifes

[bmerrystudio]

ULU Knifes

B Merry Studio is the world’s largest custom Ulu (pronounced oo-loo) knife manufacturer with over 30 unique models. They have been making their knives in Alaska since the 1990’s to share the history and functionality of this special one-handed knife, that was historically the exclusive tool used by the Native Alaskan Inuit people for thousands of years. For more details, please see the website https://www.bmerrystudio.com/ulu-knives/

[acheronist]

hickey's knife super interesting for obvious reasons, but also have you guys ever see some of the other knifes that got fashioned / salvaged from the wrecks.... especially the inuit-made ones....

like these are very beautiful to MEEEEE

[silverpsychedelic]

BIG LAD BIG KNIFE

Something that was supposed to be a sketch to practice bodies/anatomy turned into a whole pic with Siluk displaying his ice abilities. Also a very quick thing of his new weapon, scrapping the idea of a trident and instead going with a weapon inspired by Ulu knives

[naparutaujuq-siutirutiik]

more recent beadwork projects i have been working on

[muffinlance]

Hi ! prompt idea : What if Zuko was armed during the first episode and was stranded with the water tribe while the avatar left with Katara and Sokka, Iroh on his trail for white lotus reasons.

Oh we are going to have us some FUN with "stranded with the water tribe", say no more.

---

Zuko was dripping, and steaming, and staring down two dozen women and their gaggle of small children, plus that old not-the-Avatar crone from earlier. They were all cowering away from him. Which was--

Good. It was good. If they were cowering, then they hadn’t noticed how steam was not flames. He wasn’t sure he could make flames, not after the arctic water he’d landed in, with that last sight of the Avatar glowing; not after surfacing under the ice pack, after swimming, after kicking slamming breaking through and his ship was gone and there was only ocean all around and

and he’d made it back to this pathetic little camp of the Southern Water Tribe, because that was the only place he knew for sure would have shelter, and he wasn’t going to die just because they were all staring at him, even if felt like he would.

Even if the old not-the-Avatar woman could probably take him, right now. But she didn’t know that.

Zuko pulled himself up, taller than her by at least a few inches, and blew steam from his nose.

“I am commandeering one of your huts,” he said. And added, because Uncle said even a prince should be gracious: “You may choose which one.”

---

She choose her own.

...The only one without children that flames might scar, or younger women to catch a soldier’s interests.

Zuko sat by her fire and determinedly started struggling out of his wet clothes and she was still in here with him--

Zuko pulled one of her animal pelts over himself, and finished fighting off his clothes. When he stuck his head back out, cheeks still reddened from what was obviously the cold, she dropped a parka on his head.

“Dry clothes, Your Highness,” she said.

The parka was much bigger than he was. He fell asleep hoping that the camp’s men were on a long, long hunting trip.

---

He woke up again. Kanna tucked her favorite ulu knife away, newly sharpened, and stopped contemplating the alternative.

---

“I am commandeering a ship,” he said.

The crone led him across the village, all twenty paces of it, to a row of canoes.

“Take whichever one you want,” she said. “Will you need help getting it to the water?”

Zuko looked at the canoes. Looked at the ocean. Watched a leopard seal, easily the size of the largest canoe, dozing just past the ice his own ship had broken through the day before. It was frozen again, a great icy arrow pointing from the waves to the village, snow already starting to cover it over.

Beyond was blue sky and gray ocean and white ice, floating in blocks like stepping stones, like boulders, like cliffsides.

There wasn’t even a hint of gray steel, or smoke. Or any land, besides what they were standing on.

He looked down at the canoes again. Somehow, they seemed even smaller.

“I, uh,” Zuko cleared his throat. “I’ll require supplies. Before I go.”

---

They... did not have supplies. Not extra ones. This didn’t stop them from trying to give him supplies, food and blankets and anything else he could think to ask for. But each blanket was a pelt hunted by someone’s grandfather, had been inked with images and stories by someone’s mother, was the favorite of someone’s husband or brother or uncle or cousin--

They couldn’t go to the nearest market to replace things, here.

And when they talked about food, about what they could spare, they kept sneaking glances to their children, who were sneaking glances at Zuko from the huts, sticking their heads just over the snowy ledges like their fur-trimmed hoods would hide them. Their mothers and aunts shooed them away, and they crept back, like barnacle-crabs. Zuko glared, and they disappeared.

“When are your men coming back?” he asked. “They’re hunting, aren’t they?”

Oh. So that was what they looked like, when they weren’t trying to hide their hate.

---

Zuko wrapped himself up in the same blanket that night. It was printed inside with fine lines and images, telling a story he didn’t know. He wondered whose favorite it was.

---

Kanna wondered how quickly he’d wake—if he’d wake—if she built the fire up with wet driftwood and tundra grass, if she had one of the younger girls boost up a child to plug the air hole, if she let the smoke draw its own blanket down over this fire child.

---

It was hard to know when to wake up, because the sun never set. So everyone was up before him, and they all had spears and clubs and—and nets, and trap lines, and snow googles with their single slat to protect the eyes from snow blindness. Zuko had seen those once, at the Ember Island Museum of Ethnography, where they’d gone when it was too rainy for anything more exciting.

Oh. They were going hunting.

“Give me that,” Zuko said, and took a spear.

The women looked at him. One of them adjusted her googles.

“I can hunt,” he scowled.

He did not, in fact, know how to hunt.

---

“Give me that,” the Fire Prince said, and Kanna almost, almost gave him her ulu. Humans, like most animals, had an artery in their legs that would bleed them quick enough.

She kept skinning the rabbit-mink one of the women had snared.

“I can help,” he said, with less grace than most of their toddlers. Likely with the skinning skills of a toddler, too. She wasn’t going to let their unwanted visitor ruin a perfectly good pelt.

“Chop the meat,” she said, and gave him a different knife. “It’s dinner.”

“...This is really sharp,” he said a moment later, looking at the knife with some surprise.

“Is it,” said Kanna.

---

Things the Fire Prince was convinced he could do: hunt (until he realized he couldn’t tell the tracks of a rabbit-mink from a leopard-rabbit apart); spear fish (at least he could dry himself); pack snow for an igloo (frustrated princes ran hot); ice fish (the prince was a problem that kept coming close to solving itself).

Things the Fire Prince could actually do: mince meat, increasingly finely; gather berries and herbs, once he stopped trying to crush them; dig roots, under toddler supervision; mend nets, after the intermediary step of learning to braid hair loopies.

“Can’t I take him ice fishing again?” asked one of the women, as she watched Prince Zuko put as much apparent concentration into braiding her daughter’s hair as his people had into exterminating hers.

“Wait,” said another woman, sitting up straight. “Wait wait wait. I just had an idea.”

---

Three words: Infinite. Hot. Water.

---

Summer was coming to an end. The sun actually set, now, and the night was getting longer, and colder. The salmon-otter nets were mended and ready. The smoking racks were still full of cod-lemmings. The children were all a little older, the women all a little more used to doing both halves of their tribes’ chores; a little more used to not watching the horizon, waiting for help to come.

The Fire Prince was staring at the canoes again.

“Are you actually going to try leaving in one of those?” Kanna asked.

“...No.”

“Come on, then; someone needs to watch the kids while the women are hunting.”

She didn’t leave him alone with them, of course. But she could have.

---

Elsewhere, the war continued.

The moon turned red, for a moment none could sleep through; they did not learn why.

The comet came and went, leaving their castaway prince laying on the beach, his breath fogging up into the night sky above him, as the energy crashed from his system as quickly as it had come. Above, lights began to dance in the sky; Zuko pulled his hood up, so none of those spirits—children, dead too soon—got any ideas about kicking his head off to be their ball.

The war had ended. The world didn’t feel any different; no one in the south would know until spring came again.

---

Suffice it to say, Sokka and Katara were not prepared for this particular homecoming.

[seasonedplate]

Since 1957 @grohmannknives of Pictou have been making handcrafted qualify knives and accessories. They use high quality materials to produce a product that is both durable and functional that last forever. They have everything from Chef’s knives to hunting knives, and everything in between. This is their take on an ulu. These traditional knives have been used by the Inuit community to cut frozen meat, skin caucuses, and help to make clothing. It is a multi function tool that is incredibly versatile, but also represents culture and tradition. Although @grohmannknives missed a couple of key elements true to form, such as sharpening on only one side, it’s still a beautiful tool that’s sturdy and incredibly sharp. The next time you’re in Pictou it’s worth stopping by their factory shop. They also sell throughout the province at places like @bigericsinc or online. #grohman #ulu #inuit #pictou #traditional #skin #north #knife #steel #sharp #seal #indigenous #novascotia #arctic #turtleisland #seasonedplate @pictoulife @visit_pictou @munpict.ca @visitnovascotia (at Grohmann Knives) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cpp1W3LuCcF/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[lunastrophe]

Drow Lore 🕷️ More Drow Phrases and Sayings

More phrases in drow language, this time from Drow of the Underdark (2e) - some common curses, battle cries and sayings useful mainly for Lolth-sworn drow:

🕷️ Ssussun pholor dos! - Light upon you! (curse, spoken to another drow)

🕷️ Ssussun! - Light! (curse, a shortened version of Ssussun pholor dos)

🕷️ Oloth plynn dos! - Darkness take you! (curse, spoken to a non-drow / surfacer)

🕷️ [House name] ulu usstan! - [House name] to me! (to rally comrades in battle)

🕷️ [House name] ultrin! - [House name] supreme! (battle cry)

Common sayings:

🕷️ Jal khaless zhah waela - All trust is foolish

🕷️ Oloth zhah tuth abbil lueth ogglin - Darkness is both friend and enemy

🕷️ Xun izil dos phuul quarthen, lueth dro - Do as you are ordered, and live

🕷️ Lolth tlu malla; jal ultrinnan zhah xundus - Lolth be praised; all victory is her doing

🕷️ Ilharessen zhaunil alurl - [Matron] Mothers know best

🕷️ Lil alurl velve zhah lil velkyn uss - The best knife is the unseen one

🕷️ Lil waela lueth waela ragar brorna - lueth wund nind, kyorlin elghinn - The foolish and unwary find surprises - and among them, waiting death (waela can mean either "foolish" or "unwary", so maybe the meaning depends on pronunciation?)

🕷️ Khaless nau uss mzild taga dosstan - Trust no one more than yourself

🕷️ Nindyn vel'uss kyorl nind ratha thalra elghinn dal lil alust - Those who watch their backs meet death from the front

🕷️ Ulu z'hin maglust dal Qu'ellar lueth Valsharess zhah ulu z'hin wund lil phalar - To walk apart from House and Queen [Lolth] is to walk into the grave

🕷️ Kyorl jal bauth, kyone, lueth lil Quarvalsharess xal belbau dos lil belbol del elendar dro - Watch all about, warily, and the Goddess [Lolth] may give you the gift of continued life

🕷️ Vel'uss zhaun alur taga lil Quarvalsharess? - Who knows better than the Goddess [Lolth]?

Many of these sayings sound more like warnings against making deadly mistakes (from the point of view of an average Lolth-sworn drow): rejecting Lolth, rejecting the House, disobeying someone of higher station, lacking caution, lacking common sense and trusting someone.

For more of my drow lore ramblings, feel free to check my pinned post 🕷️

[lphoenixspiritl]

I cannot for the life of me find the post that inspired this 😥

After much debate and none to few threats to his council Zuko threw open the doors to the vaults and hunted down every prize brought back to his forefathers as trinkets of conquest. 

Jewels and swords and gold, the accountants and historians spent days identifying items that had sat forgotten in the dust and the dark for nearly a century. Piece after piece was meticulously researched and documented over the next weeks and months as each one found their way home. 

It was the right thing to do after all, right? 

To apologize, right his father's wrongs and build faith in the new brow that bore the crown. 

It was a task he was proud to take on until they found it, nearly forgotten at the bottom of a chest, that dusty glint they almost missed. That small unassuming knife is what broke him. A strange curved blade set in bone carved with the moon set amongst the waves, if anyone would know it would be the ambassador.

Bursting through her door nearly breathless he set it in her hands. Eyes wide her fingertips brushed along the worn bone settling into the grooves as if they were made for her. The ulu fit in her palm melting into the shape of her grip. Then the tears began to fall and with it came the weight of the sins of the father's before him.

He could do nothing but hold her as she wept for those that were taken from her and those she would never meet, the parts of her she would never know. The sins of the father could not be undone but like that blade forged in fires neither of them would ever know, he could forge a promise that this would never happen again, that he would breathe his last breath before he ever committed the same sins as his forefathers.

[bestiarium]

Aagjuuk the Entrail-Stealer [Inuit mythology]

In an earlier post, I talked about Taqqiq, the benevolent lunar spirit from native Inuit religion. Whenever a person dies, it is Taqqiq who guides them to the afterlife. Though he is a powerful and important spirit, he is not the sole inhabitant of the Earth’s moon. When Taqqiq is guiding a soul, they are greeted by Aagjuuk, also called Ululijarnaat or Aukjuk. This enigmatic spirit resembles an old woman and some versions claim that she is Taqqiq’s cousin. She always carries an ulu knife (a traditional Inuk tool for cutting ropes, hair etc.) and a copper pot.

Aagjuuk puts on a kind and friendly façade, but in reality she is a cruel and vicious monster. She will attempt to make the visitor laugh, but this is a test, and the soul must remain absolutely emotionless. If the victim so much as giggles, she will slice open their stomach with her ulu knife and then collect their innards with her copper pot. She then devours the victim’s entrails. Because of this, this spirit is fittingly called the ‘entrail-stealer’.

An Angakkuq (an Inuit shaman) could also converse with Aagjuuk through a special spirit-summoning ceremony, something like a séance. But this was a dangerous practise, for the entrail-stealer would then attempt to make the shaman laugh. If she succeeded, she would open the shaman and steal their entrails, just like she does with victims in the afterlife.

Oosten argues that it is also a symbolic thing: a hunter who does not manage to restrain or control himself will eventually become food for something else.

Sources: Christopher, N., 2013, The Hidden: a compendium of arctic giants, dwarves, gnomes, trolls, faeries, and other strange beings from Inuit oral history, 191 pp, p. 178-183. Oosten, J. G., 1981, The structure of the shamanistic complex among the Netsilik and Iglulik, Études/Inuit/Studies, 5(1): pp. 83-98. Barraclough, E. R., Cudmore, D. M. and Donecker, S., 2016, Imagining the Supernatural North, University of Alberta, 328 pp. (image source: Eva Widermann on Artstation)

[atlaculture]

Building Up: Arctic Tools & Weapons Pt. 1

Wanted to do a post on real life arctic tools and weapons that I’d love to see the Water Tribe using. This will be a three-part series.

Ulu Knives

Probably the most well-known of Inuit tools due to their unique shape. It’s an all-purpose knife traditionally used by Inuit, Iñupiat, Yupik, and Aleut women. It’s utilized in applications as diverse as skinning and cleaning animals, cutting a child's hair, and slicing food. It could also be used as a punch knife. Traditionally, it was made with a handle of caribou antler, muskox horn or walrus ivory with a slate cutting surface. Nowadays, the blade is commonly made of steel. I think it’d be cool if Katara always carried one on her for emergencies and Sokka occasionally borrowed it to touch up his undercut.

Cable-Backed Bows

Also called Pisiksi in North Slope Iñupiaq. A cable-backed bow is a bow reinforced with twisted cables; the cables strengthen the bow and increase its power. These bows were utilized by both Inuit and Inupiat hunters; they used sinew cables on bows of baleen, horn, or antler to make them less likely to break from tension and give them greater spring. I love the distinct look of Copper Inuit bows (pictured above), as they’re like the diametric opposite of traditional Korean bows in shape.

Kakivak Spears

Kakivaks are three-pronged fishing spears with backward-facing barbs. Specifically, the outer prongs have their own “teeth” which point toward the center prong. The teeth are meant to hold the fish on to the main prong to stop it from falling off or wiggling away. These spears are primarily used by Canadian Inuit. It would probably really hurt to get stabbed in the arm or leg by one of these.

Like what I’m doing? Tips always appreciated, never expected. ^_^

https://ko-fi.com/atlaculture

[indignantlemur]

Hello lovelies! Who wants a nice, cozy kitchen scene? I'm not back up to snuff, but as part of my physiotherapy I've been encouraged to draw and write and generally give my arm and hand a good work out with all kinds of horrible contortions and exercises. I'm far from at my previous level, and I can't tolerate the kind of shading I preferred before my injury, so for this piece I experimented with a more cell-shading like style this time. I think it turned out alright! A bit rough, sure, but not bad for a first attempt!

I still can't draw a smooth lines without leaning pretty heavily on stabilizers, but I am improving a little more every day. While I'm not completely happy with parts of the overall piece, I think I managed to more or less hit the target!

Detail shot and rambling below the cut, as per usual!

So the main idea behind all of this was a series of slice of life snapshots that felt cozy and comfortable, focusing heavily on the interactions between characters over drama and big scenes. I didn't have a particular location in mind with this one, but I have always thought that Dagmar's Andoria apartment would be conspicuously corporate-bland, the way a lot of common spaces are in Star Trek - and probably the most common examples Andorian architects would draw from without knowing any better.

In the background, we have Dagmar's little notes and reminders, as she's always struck me as the sort of person who uses her fridge like a personal calendar and organizer rather than a showcase for sentimental things.

Transcribed, they read:

[To Do: - Groceries!!! - New books ] [Language Lessons - High Vulcan!!! (<-Email Comm Lorik @ embassy again) - Coridanese - Refresh Klingon - Aenar dialect?] [DRINK WATER - NOT coffee] [Appointment w/ Miraal @ [indecipherable]]

Food in all its varieties has been a big part of Emigre from the very beginning, and I thought in particular that it would be nice to capture a scene with Dagmar and Thelen focused around that point. After all, if Thelen can teach Dagmar the ins and outs of Andorian cooking, why can't Dagmar return the favour?

So, working off of that, I wanted to try for a scene that feels mostly familiar. As much as I wanted to feature familiar objects and tools, owing to Dagmar's past origins and preferences, I also wanted to add little things that are just a tiny bit alien, too. We have the half-drunk drinks of familiar blue ale; the datapad, forgotten, going into screen-saver mode; the cream tarts in unusual shades; and even some odd little fruits that look like cherry tomatoes and come in dull Skittle colours, for example. Then, there's the ulu-style knife just at the edge of the frame. It's an unusual choice over a standard santoku knife or any other perfectly serviceable kitchen knife, but given its resemblance to a ushaan-tor it feels oddly appropriate. Providing my recovery continues to go well, I'm hoping to do a few more cozy scenes, but I can't promise anything just yet!

[abchavenforanon]

I love transfem alaska so much.

She is THE girl.

Ben owns uluit. Uluit belong ro inuit culture and him especially being gifted several uluit shows that we (as inuit) value him alot.

An ulu is a woman's knife. I'm an inuk from nunavut (qikitaaluk region/baffin island) and I love ben. Honestly, alaska canonically using an ulu is so yummy. She is a transfem because i said so (and as a transfem inuk,, yah.)

I love transfem inuk alaska. I need to ramble in an incoherent way with this, if you don't understand. It's fine. I need to ramble in a way that people usually won't understand but sometimes might get the hint.

I was also thinking on making a blog and explaining inuit culture more, to explain kakiniit, uluit, muktuk, nattiq, akutaq, all of that. Just to show how the wttt fandom can use these things appropriately without accidentally using the wrong word or not knowing what it is or accidentally using it wrongly.

Anyways, transfem alaska.

I am THE transfem alaska truther and NOBODY will stop me. !!!!!!!

iirc, just because an ulu is a woman's knife, doesn't mean ben can't OWN THEM. especially if they're gifted. But I am aware he uses them only as props, which I respect him for since i am sure he is educated enough (as its a quick google search to figure out that an ulu is cultural for inuk women). It's only a woman's knife in the handle of actually using it. (Meat, cutting, etc)

I love nonsensical ranting.

Okay, ᐸᐃ!!

- 🪶 (can I claim this if possible ^_^)

I'll be honest, I had to look up several words to understand this. you should absolutely make a blog sharing more about inuit culture- it sounds really cool, and I love hearing how it relates to transfem alaska!

[clove-pinks]

There was an arctic exhibition at the nypl and I kept thinking of you! They had a ton of prints, books, and photographs. There was also a letter written by the surgeon on the Erebus! (Unfortunately my picture didn't come out too good)

Another long-delayed response to an ask from Yours Truly...

I did know about this exhibit when it was running, thanks to "Remembering the Franklin Expedition" Facegroup group—which is a great source of information once you ignore the crackpots and stupid questions—but had no way to get to NYC in time, so I love seeing pictures from those lucky people who saw it in person!

That print of relics is super cool!! I don't think I've seen the ulu knife made from a Franklin Expedition object before! The book with an illustration of a surreal Arctic landscape looks intriguing.

Now we know what the S stands for in Stephen S. Stanley: scribble.

[dailymothanon]

He says while holding said snatched waist of man with feminine hips. who want him? i didnt wanna draw his hat again btw cuz i said so. thank u @lunarobservatory for helping me choose for who got waist holding privileges

Here's a buncha random things i wanna spout btw

Ulu knives literally means "a woman's knife" plus i think he should be able to be pretty and feminine sometimes without question (nowadays anyone uses an ulu knife, its just traditionally a womans knife way long ago because they typically prepared food)

I like to imagine during breakup season, cuz all the slush n floods and stuff, he'd get sick atleast once every time and feel very nauseous throughout it

He has like 90% of the worlds sea otter population and theyre like, slendery ish but also BIG

hes tall brah he gonna need to eat alot but nooo Alaska's food security and natural resources for food is hella low

from what i read, in native alaskan culture way back when, you could identify as either man or woman as long as you worked the part and i think thats chill tbh

also poly stuff was very natural, sharing partners with buddies or having more than one partner because you can efficiently support them, it helped them with isolation

Alaska is the 4-3rd richest state, dunno wtf he doing with all that bank but he's got it 🤷

idk maybe Alaska has a fear of forgetting- not being forgotten per say just forgetting things. Esp cuz of how poorly he was recorded during his territory era and the destruction of his culture and languages I think he'd be terrified to one day just forget all of it

plus it would be ironic for his flower

forget me nots are said to be odorless, except for at the late afternoon and night, so maybe some states like to sleep in a room with him because aromatherapy or smth

he may be 60% federal land but man he 100% does not care

[feastofsnakes]

no no no pleaaaaaaaase say more re: hickey and silna. Because now I'm thinking like they are both "frauds" in a way bc Hickey is Hickey and Silna really doesn't want to be a shaman never commits to the role/can't do it like Hickey can't caulk. They're both in the "wrong" place with the wrong people as neither one should be on these ships! Please keep elaborating. Also. Love the Lestat profile pic.

Ok after thinking on it a while I think it's way more accurate to say that they each have the personality and social standing that the other one needs, rather than just "self recognition through the other" (though I think that's still 100% accurate, wrt them both being failures of a sort in their roles)

Hickey desperately desperately wants to have power, which silna has the potential to have-- ideally, she would have power through her role as a shaman with the ability to control the tuunbaq, and she would have a community of people who respected her, all of which hit hickeys main motivating factors (power, respect, community-- see the mutineers)

Silna, on the other hand, needs hickeys assets; drive, charisma, his follow-through. Look at how Silna, apparently, took several tries to work up the courage/ability to cut her tongue off with her ulu, vs how hickey could do it in 60 seconds flat with his dull knife. Also compare hickeys constant rebelling against authority vs silna... Kinda just rolling over and taking it, when the netsilik hunter tells her to get a hold of herself (this isn't 1:1 comparable to hickeys situation, obviously, but she's definitely very meek compared to him). Hickey has all the attributes ideal for a shaman (at least, a shaman in the early stages of controlling the tuunbaq), but none of the reverence (or inherited ability lmao) needed to actually gain control of the tuunbaq.

At the same time tho I think there's definitely a lot of similarities between the two-- I'm thinking of Dave K's comments about how every character has a moment they switch from an adventure story to a horror story, but how ironically neither hickey or silna have one; they're both in horror stories from the moment we see them. I think they're both incredibly (for lack of a better term) scrappy characters, who're doing everything in their power just to survive on a ship with people who hate them for something immutable about themselves (though this is notably much worse for silna-- nobody ever suggests that hickey be left out on the ice for the crime of being gay). Then there's the million other little similarities between the two that drive me crazy: both operate under assumed/assigned names, both are out of place on the ship, they're the two with the most crying scenes (I think, don't quote me on that).

Tldr; teach hickey inuktitut so he can give a "we're not so different, you and I" speech and silna can curse him out.

[charring58]

Fish and Seal Knife. #Tlingit (Yakutat), 79006

Fish Knife. Slate and cottonwood. Coast Salish (Cowichan). 05335

Fish Knife. Made by Russians in the form of an Eskimo ulu. Tlingit (Sitka), 70054