Since people often ask “Alright, well this is fantasy! Why can’t we have boob shapes in plate armor?!” I decided to make a post about it. My frustration has nothing to do with historical inaccuracy and I’m all for imagination and freedom— but I’d like to (very quickly) illustrate this for you:
I purposely over-emphasized the shape of the two spheres in the armor so you can really think about this.
Look at the shape of the blue cups and the green line, think about the form of that on some beautiful ornate plate armor. A female warrior is charging into battle. In the midst of this, she trips! Or is pushed over, or takes a blow to the chest! So long as the force is on the front of her torso it really doesn’t matter for the conclusion:
She feels a sharp pain in her chest and hears the cracking of bone! Oh no, what’s gone wrong? Well she doesn’t have time to think about that, because she is now dead.
Her sternum just fractured, take another look at that green line, that’s where all of the pressure from any front impact is going to go because of the shape of the two blue cups made for her breasts. The rest of the armor slides around your body, but because of the two cups for breasts that are often made in fantasy female armors, the pressure point is directly on the sternum. The breasts are not going to stop the force of you falling onto them, and because of that the metal is going to push in and bash you in the sternum.
What does a fractured sternum do? Why it goes right into your heart and lungs of course.
(that was the sound of all of my followers inhaling a sharp breath between closed teeth at once)
Here are three great solutions to the problem:
GREAT EXAMPLE OF FANTASY TORSO ARMOR THAT IS FEMININE BUT FUNCTIONAL:
It is usually possible to bind the breasts when fighting if they really are far too large to fit into regular looking armor (there’s padding anyway), but most women can actually fit into a similarly sized male counterpart’s armor quite easily. Even if that’s the case, the armor can be made to have a curve to it without putting all of the pressure in one area, which was actually a style of armor for quite some time as shown here:
And don’t even get me started on the dreaded “Cleavage Window”
The “Cleavage Window” defeats the purpose of having any armor on your torso because it means you’re just going to be leaving open the vital organs the rest of the armor is trying to protect.
If people are going to protect themselves and not have much torso protection, invest in some blocking lessons, because the best defense is to not get hit at all. There are also advantages to not having plate armor, and plate armor was often really expensive anyway.
— Edit —
supaslim replied to your post: “Why do you hate the shape of breasts in plate armor so much?”I’d also like to add that boob bulges direct blows straight to the sternum as well, rather than making them glance to either side. Good post.
voodoo-otter replied to your post: Proposition: Kratos is a fairly unique fixture in…I was under the impression that unrestrained rage was considered the only emotion acceptable for a manly man to express, making Kratos more like the Platonic ideal than some weird outlier.
Almost unilaterally action dudes are just unaffected and above it all. They’ll usually get a crowning moment of unrestrained rage in the finale, but that’s like the first time Goku goes super Saiyan or something, it’s the finishing move, the “you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry” sting. Otherwise they’re generally sunglasses-wearing unaffected emotional robots.
Kratos, on the other hand, is like… completely incapacitated by emotions 100% of the time, he is firing on all cylinders for the duration of just about any given God of War game, which will usually end with him raging himself out and making a futile attempt at suicide. His model generally varies between “maximum angry”
and “Whoops we had nowhere else to go and now we have to crank it up to 11”
He’s just this perpetual tornado of I AM SO ANGRY AND SAD PLEASE JUST LET IT BE OVER.
That is the story of God of War.
GRAIL Maps the Moon’s Gravity
Image Credit & Copyright: NASA, JPL-Caltech, MIT, GSFC
Gravity maps or jawbreakers, the new trivia game!
She wishes she was a dog
I first noticed the bird motif on the pro-ana sites. Girls described wanting to have bird bones, to be feather thin, ‘become frail’, to be light as air, be delicate, small, like a shimmering, (starving) sparrow.
The bird lust has seeped into other facets of culture, fashion primarily. Bird tats, shirts, golden necklaces on mall teens; over priced frumpy Anthropolgie dresses with hummingbird patterns splayed across the skirt and bodice. The bird, the common bird, not the scavenger vulture or populist pigeon, but the sparrow of all creatures, the frail, dumb, petite beaked thing has been adopted as a hipster talisman, a way to signify delicacy and airiness.
It’s gone from collar bone tattoos and into the mainstream. Jonathan Franzen wrote in the NYT that he is a secret bird watcher, which he described as very uncool, which is not true! It is very cool, right now, probably cooler than collecting vinyls and collecting customized moleskin notebooks.
Here’s what I despise about the mass bird adoption, it glamorizes frailty. It’s Victorian in its idealization of the dainty and ruffled. Further, especially for women, you are the frailer sex, you are not allowed to operate weapons in combat and if a teenage boy wanted to over power you he probably could. You are also at nature’s mercy, far more so than men. Every month you do battle with this fact as your tits and womb engorge, and you have to pop hormone pills to stave off what nature’s brutal plan is for you and as symbol you choose— a bird?
Birds aren’t even mammals. They are cold, indifferent creatures. They are hatched, not born. They are like tiny raptors, eerily reptilian and unfeeling. Look into the eyes of a bird and see if there is anything you remotely recognize in yourself.
You wanna pick a spirit animal? Pick one that bleeds, that has hair, FUR! fur like your crotch and your arm pits, and all over your boyfriend’s chest (god willing), pick one that fucks with hip thrusts, and nurses its young from its swollen tits, but still has the ability to tear other creatures to shreds. One that poses some credible threat on the food chain.
You are existing in the twilight of an empire. The long standing edifices of authority are disintegrating and in the din of this collapse you choose to identify with a lipless worm eater? Grow up, be a mammal.
If a bird, why not a raven, a falcon, or phoenix. There’s a lot of positive symbolism in those. Having bones as susceptible to breaking as a twig is acceptable given genetic predisposition, but is not something to which one aspires.
EDIT: I should clarify that I mean Osteogenesis imperfecta, which is quite treatable. A childhood friend has it and is doing just fine last we spoke.
we have the best state animal though
You’re just lucky you aren’t competing with the provinces.