The native Maori people of New Zealand have tattooed their faces for centuries. They had a complex warrior culture before the arrival of Europeans, and suffered under early colonialism, but have experienced a cultural revival since the 60′s.
The marks are called moko, and are etched with chisels instead of needles to leave grooves along with the ink. The true form is sacred, unique to each person, and distinct from European tattoos that mimic that traditional style.
There arent many pictures non combat related that look this badass
Actually most
Tā moko are done with modern tattoo equipment these days, but some people get them done the traditional way. And, as others have said, they’re not for Non-
Māori, as they have specific meanings and significance. If you want a tattoo with Māori
style, you can get a
kirituhi. These avoid any designs associated with particular tribes or famous people you’re not related to.
Kirituhi is a Māori style tattoo either made by a non-Māori tattooer, or made for a non-Māori wearer. Kirituhi has mana of it’s own and is a design telling the unique story of the wearer in the visual language of Māori art and design. Kiri means ‘skin’, and tuhi means ‘to write, draw, record, adorn or decorate with painting’.
Kirituhi is not restricted to only Māori people, and it is a way for Māori to share our cultural arts with people from around the world in a respectful manner, and for non-Māori artists to enjoy our beautiful art form as well. I happily do kirituhi for my clients around the world and it is a privilege to do such work for them.
Kirituhi is no lesser an artform than moko, however it is different and I believe these differences must be acknowledged and respected, so that the integrity of our taonga Māori – moko, is maintained around the world.
Moko is uniquely Māori and it is strictly reserved to be done by Māori, for Māori.
If either the recipient or tattooer do not have Māori whakapapa, then the resulting design is a Māori Style tattoo or kirituhi, NOT moko. The word moko originated from the Māori atua (god) of volcanic activity and earthquakes, Rūaumoko – therefore the origin of tā moko is divine and sacred – to me this is no small thing, nor should it be dismissed.
As my mentor once told me, ‘moko is about 99% culture, and 1% tattoo’.
I wish DA4 would have love Interests that would flirt with your character first, like in DA:Origins. I loved it when Alistair surprised my warden by giving her the rose or asking if she liked him back. How he took initiative and kissed her first.
Is there rly any softer scene than when o’malley sees duchess and falls in love with her at first sight in the aristocats, complimenting her at every turn and climbing into a cherry blossom tree to make the flower petals snow gracefully down on her? How dreamy 🥀💕
This Is Love 😍😍
Not to mention when he found she had kids, he was thrown for a second, then proceeded to not only still help her, but dote on them too.
“Not all men” you’re right, Abraham DeLacey Giuseppe Casey Thomas O’Malley would never.
You are the world’s most successful marriage counsellor. Each case ends with a 100% satisfactory rate for both sides. One day, a rather unusual couple enters your office. Through questioning you find out that the two people in front of you are in fact Zeus and Hera. And they won’t leave until you fix their mess.
“You two need a divorce.”
As usual, Zeus’ fury was a sight to behold. It took all her years of experience as a counselor, and willpower she didn’t realize she’d had, to keep her composure. The conditions of her services had been clear, they couldn’t harm her, but it was small comfort when Zeus is hurling lighting bolts around an indestructible room.
Hera, on the other hand, was also perfectly composed. Once Zeus’ rage had played out and he stood glaring at at the counselor from behind the couch, she spoke.
“We came to you to fix our marriage. To salvage it.” She explained. “A divorce…”
“I don’t fix marriages.” She countered. “Look closer at my testimonials. My help may have saved a few marriages, but what I do is help people fix toxic situations.”
“Olympus must have a king and queen!” Zeus insisted.
“And who made that rule?” She asked.
Zeus didn’t catch Hera’s faint smirk, but the counselor did. Of course she’d known what her would recommendation would be. She was here because Zeus needed to think it was his idea. He went quiet at the question, the almost shocked, dawning realization that he had control here.
“You did, naturally. You defeated the Titans, and claimed the right to rule. But Zeus, think on it, why did you do it? Who expected you to rule? Why did you need a queen and why did the queen need to be Hera? And if you’re really honest with yourself, do you even want to rule?”
She wondered if it was the first time Zeus had ever taken a moment for real introspection. Most likely it was. Hera was perfectly neutral in her expression, but the light in her eyes told the counselor more. The soft bell timer next to her chair went off.
“Well that’s all the time we have to today.” She said, closing her notebook. Zeus was still looking thoughtful. A stunned kind of thoughtful, but thoughtful nonetheless. “Talk to my secretary and he’ll schedule your next session.”
Zeus tried to argue, and Hera made a good show of it as well, but they had agreed to follow certain rules, and this was one of them. She did have other clients, after all. It had been Hera who agreed second, when Zeus had demanded she see reason.
And there were other sessions. Six months before they finally decided to divorce. The news shook the other pantheons. The news of Zeus’ abdication in favor of his brother Hades shook them more. Stable, serious Hades, and his wife Persephone. It was better for the pantheon, and with Persephone in the mix, it wouldn’t be boring.
Zeus took to adventuring. Diving happily into his new, and old, roles as a god of the sky, thunder, storms, and lusty parties. Astronauts who venerated Zeus were almost sure to come home safe, and come home to the wildest parties.
Hera, relieved of the almost obligatory jealousy Zeus had once elicited from her, became more focused than ever on her role. Suddenly there were breakthroughs in pre and post-natal medicine. Marriages became more stable than ever.
Stable marriages mean poor business for a marriage counselor. She was glad her services were less necessary, but if things kept up like this, she would need a new career. The knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and she answered it. Her secretary had left months ago, finally marrying his husband and moving to the country as they’d been dreaming of. She hand’t bothered to hire a replacement.
Opening the door revealed, to her great shock, Hera. She looked different. The stony neutral expression was gone. She seemed softer. She had laugh lines. She was dressed causally, when the counselor had only ever seen her in business formal, with a shawl patterned in peacock feathers.
She wanted to talk. Partly to thank her, and partly to apologize for essentially driving the counselor out of business. They talked of other things, mostly trivial, laughing at the latest antics of Zeus and his fellow thunder god, Thor. Most of the world never saw these things, but her encounter with the gods had left the counselor’s eyes more open than before.
“There is another reason I wanted to talk to you.” Hera said finally, setting her teacup down. “There are other gods in need of a good counselor. Not just marriages but relationships that need help. You’ve seen the good that you can do with just one pair of clients.”
The possibility excited her. She could help the world in ways undreamed of. “That sounds incredible!” She exclaimed. “But…how would it work? We can’t have the gods parading in and out of the building on a daily basis….”
Hera smiled and took the counselor’s hand, looking into her eyes in a way that made the counselor shiver and blush. “Why don’t we discuss it over dinner?”
tony stark in avengers 4, sitting in a pile of dust: – and i was already feeling really bad from having planets thrown @ me and from being in space, and from being stabbed w my own blade, and from having all my worst fears realized. but THEN everyone began turning to fucking dust and my little spider mentee said “i don’t feel so good” and i felt my heart drop out my ass and he DIED in my ARMS and i didn’t even get to die too so i’m just…. i’m tired…
carol danvers: it’s ok buddy i’ll get this done in a pinch, just sit here have a good cry, okay?
tl;dr this woman was hearing creepy phantom nursery rhymes every night and it turned out to be a local industrial building’s alarm system, being triggered by spiders on the motion detectors
which is all well and good but “we investigated the creepy nursery rhymes, and it turns out it’s spiders” is one hell of a true statement
Captain-Radioactive-Mentality 