#zefiro

[maxfabricz]

Zefiro

#zefiro

[revistamicrosistemas]

SAUDADES DO OTA

Se não tivesse nos deixado em 2021, Ota completaria hoje (04/07/2022) 68 anos. O famoso cartunista, ficou mais conhecido como editor da revista MAD, mas fazia muitos trabalhos, tinha uma vasta e interessante coleção de personagens, sendo que ele mesmo era protagonista de muitas histórias. Também criava fontes de letras e usava computadores com bastante desenvoltura na sua arte. Foi o responsável…

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#MAD #Ota. parabéns póstumo #Zefiro

[liroyalty]

What the fuck is a 'Genshin'?

#(yo i'm just as guilty for using them as fcs tho SHKBFBD) #musings [lore and ideas] #zefiro michael cavolilla vansnow {marquess of the mountains} #wakamure hinta {2nd princess of vlaqinn} #hanagawa rosa {the thundering rose of makoto} #dash commentary [it's the latest gossip!]

[clamarcap]

Concerto per tre

Carl Friedrich Fasch (18 novembre 1736 - 1800): Concerto in mi maggiore per tromba, violino, oboe d’amore, archi e continuo. Gabriele Cassone, trom­ba; Massimo Spadano, violino; Alfredo Bernardini, oboe d’amore e direzione; Zefiro Baroque Or­chestra. Allegro Affettuoso [5:19] Allegro [11:04]

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#Alfredo Bernardini #Carl Friedrich Fasch #Gabriele Cassone #Johann Friedrich Fasch #Massimo Spadano #Zefiro Baroque Orchestra #Youtube

[olimabelss]

That theory that Kim ends up being forced to work for gus' empire is looking more likely

#It's pretty obvious she's not dying #I've been wanting them to meet anyways so #Better Call Saul #Kim wexler #What a team that would be though #But think how gus used zefiro to kills Don aduo #OF ALL DRINKS HE USED THAT ONE #That wasn't random I'll bet #Shit obviously I mean Don eladio****

[zoodelagare]

Série B293.

14 avril 2022. Trains à grande vitesse. Trenitalia et SNCF.

#Trenitalia Zefiro #SNCF TGV

[thebookofsierha]

he cant defend him for very long

#book of sierha #tbos tag #eyria #leviathan #zefiros hille

[ecate26]

#Zefiro .la nifa Clori e Flora

[gasparodasalo]

Antonio Vivaldi (1678-1741) - Concerto for Oboe, Strings and Basso continuo in C-Major, RV 447, III. Minuetto. Performed by Alfredo Bernardini, oboe & direction, and Zefiro on period instruments.

#antonio vivaldi #baroque #classical music #oboe #orchestra #period performance #period instruments #oboe concerto #concerto #oboist #strings #string orchestra #organ #baroque music #vivaldi #woodwinds #band

[scarlet--wiccan]

Idk if you know anything about Ice from dc, but I believe she is also a Romani character? Since you’ve shared thoughts on Dick Grayson and Zatanna, I was wondering if you had any on her.

I do have thoughts, and they're not kind. With DC Comics, it seems like Romani identity is something that is only ever applied retroactively to validate a character's exoticness, mysticism, or sexualization-- sometimes a combination of all three. I'm not going to say that Marvel is necessarily better, but their inclusion of Romani characters is definitely founded on a better understanding of our realities, particularly in the Silver and Bronze Age. When you look at characters like the Maximoffs or von Dooms, you get a sympathetic portrait of European Romani history that actually makes valid and helpful points, in spite of the problematic imagery. Characters like Ice, Zatanna, and Nightwing generally only make shallow references to a gypsy heritage that confirms certain stereotypes about their upbringing, but has no bearing on their adult lives.

DC also has a stronger tendency to portray portray Romani groups as organized crime families, as we see in Ice's revised backstory, first told in Justice League: Generation Lost #12. In my mind, this is a much more dangerous stereotype than the usual witches and fortunetellers. Romani communities are heavily impacted by racial profiling and over-policing, in Europe and in America. It's one thing for media to present gypsies as a fictional race of fairy-tale spellcasters; it's quite another thing to validate very real state violence against a very real people by parroting racist propaganda.

Anyways, Tora Olafsdotter, formerly known as "Icemaiden", now known as simply "Ice," was originally depicted as a member of a reclusive tribe of magic wielders from Norway. I don't know how overt this is in the original material, but I would hazard that she is actually based on stereotypes about the Sámi people. "Fixing" this backstory by making her Romani-- just in time to maker her family into overt villains-- is very similar to what happened with Magneto in the 90s.

The Romanifolket are a real Romani group, based primarily in Norway and Sweden. DC gets points for naming an actual vitsa-- most Romani characters don't have one at all, or if they do, it's fictional, like Doom's "Zefiro clan." The name "Is Bygd" is made-up, though, as are the clan politics of Tora's family. DC loses what little credibility they'd earned by representing the Romanifolket as an extensive crime ring who uphold scamming and thievery as a cultural practice. That's completely fallacious, and extremely harmful.

In her revised origin, Tora is a metahuman, meaning her powers are a genetic quirk, similar to that of X-Men's mutants. Her fanatical forebears believe that she is a reincarnated goddess, and they wish to use her powers to, you guessed it, do more crimes. This reinforces the narrative that Romani people are ruled by their arcane superstitions and pagan beliefs, as well as the pervasive notion that we abuse children and force them into early labor and/or marriage for profit. Sound familiar? Everyone's favorite X-Factor writer loves that one. [x]

Ultimately, Tora denounces her entire community as "very bad people." Generation Lost frames her Romani upbringing as a traumatic experience Tora wishes to distance herself from, and Romani culture as an inherent evil for which she seeks redemption. In that regard, she's not unlike Marvel's Amanda Sefton, but unlike Amanda, Tora's story is told without an ounce of nuance, and it was written recently. In the age of digital research, there's no excuse for this level of ignorance. The story of Ice is probably the worst Romani narrative I have ever witnessed in a superhero comic.

#tora olafsdotter #ice #ice dc #dc comics #dcposting

[the-desert-beast]

The adrenaline violently coursed through his veins.

Eyes fierce and wild, wounds bleeding, his gargantuan prey frenzied and frightened, he finally felt alive. The creature in front of him was bleeding badly, hamstrung, wounded, he and his companion had been toying with it. His taloned gauntlets dripping with his prey's blood, he aimed another precise, violent slash at it's neck.

It recoiled, a furious guttural sound leaving it's throat.

Snapping it's jaws at The Beast, Paola took the chance and lunged, biting as hard as she possibly could on it's wounded leg. The thing's serpentine neck squirmed before whipping around to grip Paola in it's deadly jaws, but she was already gone.

The Beast took the opportunity to deal the final blow; ripping it's throat open.

One last spasm, a death rattle, and the massive Hydra fell limp, bleeding out into the sands of the desert. He looked over the work of himself and his companion. (”Too easy.”) he thought to himself, more in empty dissatisfaction than in anything resembling “proud.“

The adrenaline subsided. The blood dried. He felt empty, again.

He crouched down in front of the creature's mouth, carefully removing two of it's most fearsome fangs. One, a personal trophy, the second, Paola's newest toy. And after skinning some of it's remaining usable hide and taking the more intact, and delicious cuts of meat, his mind began to wander on the walk back.

He thought of nothing particularly coherent.

His and his tiger's footfalls left prints behind in the soft warm sands.

He thought of when he used to feel something.

The warm sands gave way to harder sandstone, dirt and grasses.

He thought of how useless, meaningless, all this- being alive, felt.

Hours had passed.

Stuck in his head, his feet lead him down the rest of the path back home instinctively.

He thought of the ways he'd numb himself again.

Usually, he'd feel some amount of relief upon entering his lovingly cluttered home.

The amber light of his favorite lanterns hanging from the ceiling illuminated the red, orange, and gold colors of loved trinkets and fabrics strewn about the house.

He looked over his extravagant bed, cluttered with all manner of patterned throw pillows, a few larger deep red pillows he'd actually use. The black sheets were unmade- Had been that way, for two weeks now. It had been a long time since he cared to relax.

His trophy cabinet stocked full of fallen foe's fangs, horns, scales, furs, armor, jewelry- It all felt like nothing as of late.

His liquor cabinet, filled with his favorite, very expensive whiskeys, rums, and a few wines, was the most used thing in his house. This was always the case, but it was a hindrance during weeks like these.

No relief came.

He put everything from his hunt in it's rightful place, threw Paola her new toy- which she happily caught, wandering off to curl up in her favorite sun-tanning spot. His mind had turned against him the moment he had killed his latest hunt and the fight had ended.

Huffing a sigh, grabbing his medicinal supplies, he mended his wounds with the bare minimum. Disinfecting with his favorite alcohol, taking a swig, wrapping them in bandages that he'd remove sooner than he should. He could feel nothing. He washed, dried, and polished his custom-made gauntlets. Only danger felt like anything these days.

This sort of habit had become far too common as of late. He couldn't make himself care whether he lived or died. (”What would Zefiro think of me, if he caught me thinkin' like this- In this state.“) he thought to himself, pained at the thought of Zef worrying over him- Worse yet, scolding him.

Rolling his shoulders, a habit of his, he attempted to banish the worst of his thoughts from his mind. He sipped more of his favorite whiskey straight from the bottle.

Too tired to hunt anything else.

Not the kind of tired that allowed for sleep.

He could think of only one reprieve;

more alcohol, and sex.

#mysnippets #my ocs #oc: maelgwyn (he/any) #not main tagging this but reblogs are welcome if you are so inclined! <3 #got possessed last night and wrote this #10/10 hope i can work towards having a habit of writing now and again soon but you know how it is #this is a milder case of when maelgwyn feels nothing #he has 110% TRIED to get himself KILLED just to have a fight start that felt like Something #he is. trying his best. and so stupid. i love him.

[maxfabricz]

Zefiro

Il nome zefir, dal francese zephyr, deriva dal vento zefiro, la breccia leggera che soffia da ponente, messaggera della primavera. Il tessuto zefir evoca quindi immediatamente un senso di freschezza.  

Fu creato nel XIX secolo da David e John Anderson, che svilupparono una versione più raffinata del percalle.

È fine (160/180 grammi) e resistente. realizzato in armatura a tela, con qualche filo di ordito in più rispetto alla trama. 

I fili, tinti e mercerizzati ritorti a due capi. sono disposti in modo poco compatto, così da rendere il tessuto particolarmente adatto alla stagione estiva; viene spesso utilizzato nel disegno a quadri.

#xzefiro #zefiro #tela

[occhietti]

Dentro, sentiva una brezza di tramontana.

Pensò ai venti della vita, perché ci sono venti che accompagnano la vita:

lo zefiro soave, il vento caldo della gioventù che poi il maestrale si incarica di rinfrescare, certi libecci, lo scirocco che accascia, il vento gelido di tramontana.

Aria, pensò,

la vita è fatta d’aria,

un soffio e via.

- Antonio Tabucchi, "Yo me enamoré del aire"

[liroyalty]

The two Camellian marquesses that can throw around money like it's no bodys business, but your ability to trust them is questionable at best.

#lorenzo charito robertslaw {marquess of the mountains} #zefiro-michael cavolilla vansnow {marquess of the mountains} #musings [lore and ideas] #(one is a womanizer. the other makes shady deals like it's going out of style)

[frailgal]

Clori e Zefiro, La primavera di Botticelli

[perpassareiltempo]

Pensò ai venti della vita, perché ci sono venti che accompagnano la vita: lo zefiro soave, il vento caldo della gioventù che poi il maestrale si incarica di rinfrescare, certi libecci, lo scirocco che accascia, il vento gelido di tramontana. Aria, pensò, la vita è fatta d’aria, un soffio e via. 

Antonio Tabucchi

#forever reblog