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siblingshuffle · 19 days ago
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Rocktober Answers (Part 1!)
I decided to answer a bunch of comments and questions I got on my Rocktober days (1-15, currently, plus on that one meme. More coming soon-ish though!). All of the ones answered by a character are answered from that character as though in that moment.
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Day 1
POV your 2-day-old son is already cryptic & curious
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Day 2, in which Roll briefly contemplates murder
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Day 5
She… had a lot of feelings immediately following the incident…
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The meme
Honestly, anytime someone compliments how I portray a character it means a lot but I knew the least about Bass when I was getting into the fandom. He showed up like twice in the Archie comics, and that was my first exposure to Mega Man (outside of Smash Bros), so knowing that I’m doing a good job characterizing him is fantastic news! I hope I continue to do the character justice!
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Day 7
Glad I could do something that made the X Fans in the audience happy :)
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Day 8
She appreciates it :)
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Day 9
Lord save her.
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Day 10
I’m glad you guys liked the changes!
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Day 11
Some cozy sibling shenanigans <3
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Day 12 & Day 13!
All the compliments mean a lot. Seriously, thank you all so much!!
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Day 14!
(The nicknames thing is a reference to this, which is a reference to someone putting those nicknames under each of our Blues’s in the Naptime Corner of the whiteboard)
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Day 15!
I’ve never written for him but this feels like how he’d respond maybe
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More responses coming soon! Thanks, everyone, for all your questions, comments, and encouragement!! And sorry I can’t tag everyone
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goldenguillotines · 2 years ago
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"Is that so?"
"Why are you tellixg me if today was shit, you'd offer me somethixg better? Or is that wishful thinking? I kid... Well thex I'll have to look forward to it whex I get my haxds free. Maybe I can get you somethixg before thex. A treat for a treat. Axd only the best for you."
"Sixce you're here, I think you kxow.. But have I told you how much I admire you? You cax be stubborx.. but xot in a bad way. Dedicated axd always moving forward.. Lights a fire uxder someoxe's ass to keep up or try to overtake you. A lot more should take some xotes from you.."
->He leans over and kisses her forehead..back to work after this.. but eh. Living fine right now.
MESSY JUDGMENTS…
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Alternia's most unpredictable guy is here... Exactly what does he do? Who knows... though he seems to be in a band of some sort.. and maybe all that paint isn't exactly because he's a painter? The only thing is certain- He's here to judge some people!
Rules as always: 18+ muns and muses please! Especially with mickey. He's a wildcard and a little unstable at times... but not completely unapproachable. Reblog with 1 troll/alien/etc. and Mickey will judge them accordingly based on their vibes! Multiple reblogs are fine! Judgebacks are appreciated but not required! If you don't have a character to offer.. Mickey is always open to some asks!
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thestruidora · 3 years ago
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Landslide
The Avengers (MCU) Fanfiction
Rating: Explicit
WARNINGS: This story will contain but it’ll not be limited to explicit 18+ content including Obsessive Behavior, Smut, Shower Sex, Edging, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Fluff, Oral Sex, thigh riding, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Dominance, Submission, Knotting, Scenting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Rutting, Rut Sickness
Category: F/M
Pairings: Steve Rogers/Reader, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Summary: Steve was never quite sure if he truly was an alpha. Genetically he should be, coming from a long line of alpha males. But due to the several health conditions in his youth, his poorly functioning body never presented. But now, because of the serum reacting to his true designation, a terrible case of rut sickness takes hold of the super soldier, threatening his life. Being a beta, Natasha can’t offer him what he needs, and since omegas are rarer today then ever, she is forced to hire a foreign girl to tend to Steve during these desperate times.
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Author’s notes: Did y'all miss me? Yeah, I'm sure you didn't.
If anyone is interested in getting to know the magical music genre called forró, I chose a couple of classics that I feel like definitively played on the reader's first and only June Party: O Xote das Meninas Xote Dos Milagres Cintura Fina Morena Tropicana
Shout outs: @captainchrisstan, @keenkiddeputynickel, @danidv011, @ballyhoobarnes, @pophbfdsxa, @crashbarbie, @readermia, @musicnowandforever661, @bianaguipa, @deezy-061 Thank you so much for your guy’s support!
For those who missed it: Chapter One >> Language Barrier Chapter Two >> Bilingual Chapter Three >> Miscommunication
Chapter Four
Gibberish
She can still remember the laughter. The giggling that came from the back of her throat as she threw her head back, a smile full of teeth spread through her lips. The exhilaration of being with her friends, dancing her heart out.
It was her favorite time of the year. The sounds of the June Party moving on her feet. The rhythmic vibrations of the music's beat coursing through her. The songs, the speaking, the dancing: all at once ringing in her ears. One of her very first alcoholic drinks running through her veins along with all the spinning making her dizzy.
She was the happiest she’s ever been.
Every year her older cousins would travel to the countryside of Bahia's state, where the June festivities were the most elaborate. Her mom, so controlling, so protective, would never let her go. But on the year of her 14th birthday, she begged a little more strongly, pleaded a little more fervently, and now there she was.
It was so much more than she could ever have imagined. Bigger, louder, an explosion of newness to her senses. A big contrast to her secluded life in the city, because everybody knows that being a woman is hard, but being an Omega is harder.
Her mom was mated only a few hours after presenting, a few hours into her first heat, to a man she barely knew and definitely did not love. But still, she was one of the lucky ones. She could have been robbed, kidnapped and trafficked. Because Omegas are rare and the demand is huge, so presenting as one was as good as a death sentence.
But she was still young, she still got time.
And now, finally outside of her mom's vigilant eyes, with her girlfriends dancing by her side and the pulse of the *forró guiding her body she could allow herself to be carefree.
“Rapaz, que secura!” Lana screamed, complaining about the heat.
“É, tá um calor desgraçado.” Gabriela agreed, fanning herself with her hands, droplets of sweat trickling down her forehead and into her exposed cleavage.
Y/N simply laughed at her friends, they were a couple years older than her, but not necessarily more mature. Of course it was hot, they’ve been dancing for a long time, and even in the open space with the night air hanging over them, the place was so crowded that they would barely move while trying to get to the open bar.
She watched as the girls got their beverages, gobbling them down as if they were the first drinks they had in ages. But suddenly, the permanent smile that had been plastered on her face throughout the night died, something curious shifting inside of her. It was a unique feeling, one she never experienced before. It had started as a tightness in her lower abdomen, but it was growing into a sharp pain.
“Você tá bem?” Lana asked if she was ok, noticing the grimace in her features.
She tried to shake her head yes, but it came out the exact opposite as she doubled down on herself, her hands pressing on her stomach as she frowned, the pain becoming unbearable. Were these cramps? Was she about to get her period in the middle of this party?
But no, it wasn’t that. Somehow in the back of her mind, she knew this was different. She had begun to sweat, but not from the crowd or the dancing, there was this intense hotness forming within her.
She noticed a couple of men standing on the edges of the party space, in the shadows, almost camouflaged. Their eyes were predatory, fixated on her, they shined with a sinister glow, reflecting the flickering red light of the bonfire. Her friends called to her, guiding her to walk across to one of the tables, helping her sit down. When she looked again, the men were gone. Was she going mad?
“A gente vai ver se encontra Ibuprofeno, fica aí.” Gabriela said this time, or was it Lana again? They left, said something about looking for painkillers, she wasn’t paying attention, the pain was too much and so were the smells. All of the sudden, she felt like she could smell every single thing and every single one in the whole place.
She could smell the perfume, and the liquor, the sweet and the savory foods, altogether but also individually, it was overwhelming. She could smell the people, not their body wash or their shampoo, but their true scents. Some were warm and some were cold, some too strong and others too bland. And then there were two that were getting closer, too close, and these stung in her nostrils. Her vision had gone blurry and she couldn’t tell much of what was happening around her at that point, but she knew she wasn’t alone.
Shaking from the pain, shivering even though she was burning up, she looked up just fast enough to get a look at the two men from before, standing right behind her. One of them covered her eyes with his hand and the other covered her mouth. A muffled scream and a couple of weak punches were all she could do before they pulled her up from her chair, completely immobilizing her.
She trashed and struggled about, but to no avail. They were big and strong and she was small and frail.
“Shhh, Omega.” One of them whispered in her ear, and as if under a spell, she did just what was asked of her, her free will hushed. Something about his voice, and their touch, turned the pang in between her legs into a tingle.
And that’s when she knew: she had presented and this was her first heat.
They dragged her pliable body into the woods of the rural countryside, the sway of the forró getting left behind, her mother’s voice playing on a loop inside her head, “Be careful”, she always said.
Everything went dark, she could only make out flashes of information. The roughness of their hands and the graveness of their voices as they spoke to each other, laughing to themselves about how much she was worth, the way they sniffed at her neck, exhaling with satisfaction.
At some point, the grass of the forest turned into asphalt underneath her feet, and she was blindfolded and tied up, her lips taped as she was thrown into the back of a car. She could only whimper, her heat burning inside of her.
Shifting in and out of conciseness, she couldn’t tell how long had passed, couldn’t differentiate hours from days anymore. From time to time she would feel the prick of a needle going into her arm, and then it was all darkness again. She remembered being cold, shivering about as more rough hands grabbed at her. Were these the same ones from before or no? Had Lana or Gabriela reported her missing? Was anyone coming for her?
Eventually, it all stopped.
There was a cushiony softness below her, a thin sheet of fabric above her. When Y/N carefully tried to open her eyes, for the first time in what seemed like forever, she was greeted by light. Not the warm sunshine that often peeked through the windows of her bedroom in the mornings, but a cold, harsh light that came from a singular light bulb attached to the ceiling.
No longer tied or muzzled, she slowed sat up in the single bed, looking around. There was nothing covering her figure but the bedding, not even underwear. She found herself in a tiny room: four concrete white walls, a small barred window and a closed door.
Her heat was over, she could feel it, no more fire burning in her loins. She disentangled herself from the bed sheet, getting up too quickly, ignoring her nakedness and the dizziness, heading straight for the door. It was locked, of course.
Finally feeling sober enough to allow the rage to bubble up inside, she began to furiously bang on the door with clenched fists, kicking it, screaming at the top of her lungs.
“Hey!” A male voice boomed just outside, appearing suddenly, as if he was already waiting right there. “Yapma!” He hit the metal of the door, hard, making it shake slightly.
She retreated, startled, analyzing the situation. She had no idea what he had said, but gathering from the brutality with which it was uttered, it couldn't have been good. She didn't even know where she'd been taken, but she had an idea why.
More male voices were spoken on the other side of the wall, in that language she did not know. Something electronic beeped, then it let out a subtle ping sound, and just like that the door was sprung open. Two men walked in, the first thing she noticed was the gun one of them was carrying, while the other came in with a paper file in his hands. She backed away into the corner of the room, trying to cover her exposed chest and genitals with her hands, their big Alpha bodies taking over the space, making her feel even more intimidated.
“Nasıl hissediyorsun?” The one with the file said to her, his words sounding like a reserved recording to her brain. He was older, maybe in his late forties, greying hair at the top of his head, a light blue suit framing his ample shoulders.
When she didn’t answer, simply stood there against the wall, trying to control her labored breathing and the sheer fear that had taken over her body, causing even her inner organs to shake, he gave her a once over, opening the file and scanning through whatever was written there.
“Brazil, huh?” He arched one of his brows. “Can you understand me now?” He asked her, deliberately enunciating every word.
Y/N swallowed the sigh that was trying to leave her lips, staring at the gun, wide-eyed.
“Dumb bitch.” The man in the suit murmured to himself, snapping a finger in her face, getting her attention. “You’ve been on sedatives for a long time, little one. How are you feeling?” He said it as slow as he could, as if speaking to an animal. “Do you got a tummy-ache or a headache?” He rubbed his belly while saying ‘tummy’ and touched his temples while saying ‘head’.
She only frowned at him, a crease forming in between her eyebrows. He scoffed, leaning forward, letting his light-colored eyes roam over the valley of her breasts.
“Or maybe you’re just cranky cause you didn’t get no Alpha dick inside that tight little pussy yet.” Before he could finish his words, she was already propelling the whole weight of her body into her closed fist as she punched him in the face, fear turning into fury.
“Oh!” He growled, covering his bleeding nose, quickly walking away from her, face contorted in pain. “Shoot her!” He yelled at the other man, who promptly pointed his gun at her.
“Não!” She shouted out, closing her eyes and attempting to protect her face with her hands. A blunt sound echoed in the room and she felt something sharp go into her leg. Before she had enough time to come to the conclusion that it was tranquilizer dart, her eyes rolled back into their sockets and blackness welcomed her once again.
*
Five years had passed with her locked in that place, slowly forgetting where her mom’s face wrinkled the most when she was angry, or the exact shade of her eyes, the particular timbre of her voice. Y/N was slowly going mad, losing all hope of ever being rescued by the hero that always came to her in her dreams.
She was fourteen when she was taken, highly prized for her young age and virginity. They tried to sell her to the highest bidder many times, but she fought like an Alpha. Biting, roaring at anyone that came too close. Some of the men even began to doubt she was a real Omega, but ever so often her heat came and it reminded them. Emir, the big boss of the operation, sometimes would come to her doorstep during those times, tap at door and use his Alpha voice, laughing when she had to bit her own lips to control the moans his presence was causing.
But in the end, she wasn’t genetically compatible with anyone, and even those that wanted her for her fierceness were disappointed to find that her DNA did not match with theirs. A part of her was happy she had never been sold and probably never would be, just for the simple satisfaction of knowing that her body wouldn’t give those men any profit.
So there she stayed, locked up, imprisoned, hearing the sounds of the other girls crying in their rooms while she got on her tiptoes, trying to catch glimpses of the outside world through her only window, waiting.
It had been a while since she last saw Emir when the door made it’s telltale beep and was opened by him, but this time, he wasn’t alone.
“Hello there, my Latin beauty.” He smiled an evil smile at her, but she didn’t pay it any mind, focused on the redhead woman that was beside him, looking at Y/N with sorrow in her eyes. “See, Widow? I told you my girls are gorgeous, look at her.”
The woman let a displeased noise at his words, coming closer to Y/N, who gave her a distrustful look.
“Hi, I’m Natasha. What’s your name?”
“It’s Y/N.” Emir answered for her.“Oh, and she doesn’t talk.”
“Excuse me, what do you mean?”Natasha turned to him, her short red locks moving with her.“She’s mute?”
“Nah, she just doesn’t know any English.”
“Oh.” She gave the girl one more pitiful stare, but Y/N felt like she was looking right through her.
*
Leaving the facility was like a dream and a nightmare all at the same time. While finally being free was wonderful, Y/N knew that such freedom would come at a cost. The woman, Natasha Romanoff, wasn’t the best at Portuguese, but knew enough of it in order for them to communicate.
Y/N didn’t say much when they gave her a suitcase full of brand-new clothes and guided her out of that God-forsaken place. She didn’t say a word when a dark-haired man tried to take the suitcase from her hands, Natasha said his name was James and that he was only trying to be chivalrous, something about the 1940’s that she didn’t quite understand.
She remained quiet as Natasha tried her best to explain to her that a man’s life was at stake, that Captain America was dying of a terrible rut sickness, and that he was compatible with her and her alone. That yes, she had been bought like cattle, but it was for noble reasons, because Steve Rogers was an honorable man, a hero and his destiny was in her hands.
She kept all of her thoughts to herself as Natasha pulled up a ‘Rut Companion’ contract, stipulating that once Y/N had served her purpose and Mr. Rogers was out of danger and well, she would receive a large sum of money and could walk away from all of this, go anywhere she wanted and do whatever she pleased. Even after signing it, she resigned herself to silence.
And of course, she didn’t say anything when they boarded a jet to the United States, not even a word about the fact that she was actually fluent in English.
Please feel more than welcome to request your name to be tagged and do check out my Patreon to get your own custom made story!
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eduardopereiraphotos · 6 years ago
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Sanfonia Jazz - Sesc Santo Amaro - 12/04/2019
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mi-news · 5 years ago
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Arts-Music .. an A to Z
A Brainstorm Chat Dedicated Essentially For Giving Humble Insights and Joy to Kill the Loneliness you May Notice On this Period and Quench your Reading and Singing's Thirst Using Virtues of soothingWords like a Xylophone than can make You sleep Zzzzz…
A capella:
A cappella is a phrase used in vocal music indicating that a song or part of a song, in one or more voices. It is also the name of a chant performed without instrumental accompaniment. It is a pure, authentic and a rudimentary yet very soothing type of chant.
Blues:
The blues is a musical, vocal and instrumental genre derived from the working songs of the African-American populations undergoing racial segregation in the United States. The blues first appeared in the southern United States during the 19th century. It is a style where the singer expresses his sadness and his disappointments.
Country music:
Country music is a mixture of traditional music developed mainly in the southeast of the United States and in the maritime provinces of Canada, but also in Europe as in Ireland or in the north of the Netherlands. Country music evolved rapidly in the 1920s and remains very popular today. Different gender variations have also emerged in other countries such as Australia.
Dada:
The Dada movement is an intellectual, literary and artistic movement from the beginning of the 20th century, which is characterized by a questioning of all ideological, aesthetic and political conventions and constraints.
Existentialism:
Existentialism is a philosophical and literary current which considers that the human being forms the essence of his life by his own actions, these not being predetermined by theological, philosophical or moral doctrines.
 Funk:
Funk is characterized by the predominance of the rhythm section (guitar, bass, drums) which plays syncopated patterns, the frequent presence of brass or saxophones on rhythmic punctuations (riffs) or solos and, in general, by the great place given to instruments. It has emerged from a mix of soul and jazz music.
Gnawa:
Gnawa music is a body of Moroccan and other North African Islamic religious songs and rhythms. Its well-preserved heritage combines ritual poetry with traditional music and dancing. The music is performed at "lila", communal nights of celebration dedicated to prayer and healing guided by the Gnawa maalem, or master musician, and their group of musicians and dancers.
Humanism:
Humanism is an idealist and optimistic current of thought which places Man at the center of the world, and honors human values. It has shaped many facets of the contemporary world.
Impressionism:
This pictorial movement is mainly characterized by small paintings, visible brush strokes, open composition, the use of unusual viewing angles, a tendency to note fleeting impressions, the mobility of climatic and light phenomena, rather that the stable and conceptual aspect of things, and to transfer them directly to the canvas. Claude Monet and Paul Cézanne are notorious members and founders of the impressionist movement
Jazz:
Jazz is a music genre that originated in the African-American communities of New Orleans, United States. It originated in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, and developed from roots in blues and ragtime. Jazz is seen by many as "America's classical music".
Karaoke
Karaoke (カ ラ オ ケ, karaoke) Is an entertaining way to sing, usually by following the lyrics on a screen.
Liberalism
Liberalism is based on freedom and recognition of the individual, its initial purpose is to rationalize and order social relations.
Metal
Heavy metal (or Metal) is characterized by the dominance of the guitar and the drums, as well as a powerful rhythm. It draws its influences from rock, classical music and the blues.
Naturalism
Naturalism is a literary movement which, in the last decades of the 19th century, sought to introduce into the novels the method of the human and social sciences, applied to medicine by Claude Bernard. ��mile Zola is the main representative of this literary school in France. The movement will spread throughout Europe to America.
Opera
An opera is a musical and theatrical work for an orchestra and singers, built on a libretto which depicts characters and their history, where the roles are sung. Opera is one of the lyrical forms of Western musical theater.
Pop
Pop music (or simply pop) is a musical genre that appeared in the 1960s in the United Kingdom and the United States. These songs usually talk about love or relationships between women and men.
Qajar Art
Kadjar art (or qadjar) is an art form that developed in Kadjar Iran, which lasted from 1794 to 1925. The period during which the Kadjar dynasty reigned experienced a strong development of the arts, made possible by a period of relative stability in the country's history, allowing artistic development especially under the reigns of Fath Ali Chah Qadjar.
 Rock
It has its roots in rock 'n' roll of the 1940s and 1950s, itself greatly influenced by rhythm and blues and country. Rock has also incorporated elements from other genres including folk, blues, jazz and classical music.
Symbolism
For the symbolists, the world cannot be limited to a concrete appearance that can be reduced to rational knowledge. There is a mystery to be deciphered in the correspondences which strike inanity the partitioning of the senses: sounds, colors, visions participate in the same intuition which makes the Poet a kind of mage
Techno
Techno is a genre of electronic music that emerged in the United States in the mid-1980s. Most often composed in home studio and reinterpreted by disc jockeys during festive practices, techno is above all dance music, in essence repetitive
Ukiyo-e Ukiyo-e (浮世 絵?, Japanese term meaning “image of the floating world”) is a Japanese artistic movement from the Edo period (1603-1868) comprising not only an original popular and narrative painting, but also and above all Japanese woodcut prints.
Vocal Jazz
Vocal jazz is a sub-genre of jazz, where the voice predominates within the composition. It is thus frequently opposed to instrumental jazz, where the playing of musicians predominates.
Waila
Chicken scratch (also known as waila music) is a kind of dance music developed by the Tohono O'odham people. The genre evolved out of acoustic fiddle bands in southern Arizona, in the Sonoran desert. These bands began playing European and Mexican tunes, in styles that include the polka, schottisch and mazurka
Xote
Xote – is a Brazilian music genre and dance for pairs or groups of four.
YéYé
Yé-yé was a style of pop music that emerged from Southern Europe in the early 1960s. The term "yé-yé" was derived from the English term "yeah! yeah!"
Zadjal
Zadjal adapts well to music. It reached its peak with Ibn Quzman, Andalusian poet adapted from Cordoba, who used it for his panegyrics, but also to sing nature, wine and especially love.
Aymane Moataz, El Mehdi El Bachiri.
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oliveiraazul · 5 years ago
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Iluminando os corpos coladinhos ao som do @forrobemtivi ontem no Palco Casa Porto. Meu primeiro Viradão Cultural em Vitória, do jeito que eu gosto, na cidade que eu ♥️ com a console que eu ♥️ @grandmalighting . Registro lindo de @levi.mori . . . . #mulheresnaluz #viradaculturalvitoria #festivaldemusica #grandmalight #iluminadora #lightingdesigner #lightingdesigners #lighting #lightart #lightartist #lightdesigner #lightdesign #luzes #luz #iluminacion #iluminadora #avolites #robepoint #lightpainting #lightpainter #iluminação #showsp #concertlighting #lightshow #iluminacaocenica #lightprogrammer #contemporarylighting #contemporarylighting #stagelighting #lightingprogrammer #xote (em Maravilhosa Ilha De Vitória) https://www.instagram.com/p/B3A-7duFAdv/?igshid=s4ypyad947h
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ultraisabarrosmartins1978 · 5 years ago
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+50% OFF: Festival une Attøøxxá, Quantic e Batekoo na Audio 🔥
É evento perfeito que você quer? Então já reserva o dia 28 de março na agenda, pois Attøøxxá, Quantic Solo Live, Batekoo, Forró Red Light e Tahira formam o verdadeiro bailão mete-dança na 1ª edição do festival “Queremos! Daquele Jeito“.
As cinco atrações finas viajam do pagodão eletrônico ao arrasta-pé futurista e da vanguarda afrodiaspórica à cumbia digital… Só fogo na pista da Audio!
#DICACATRACA: onde curtir música boa e independente em São Paulo
Com a missão de temperar ainda mais esse baile, a Agenda Catraca Livre descolou 50% + R$ 5 de desconto nos ingressos antecipados!
Para garantir sua entrada super mais barata, basta clicar neste link exclusivo, selecionar o setor de preferência (pista ou mezanino), clicar na opção “Meia” e finalizar sua compra. Pronto, agora é só escolher o lookinho e curtir a festa!
Vista seu capacete e confira as atrações do “Queremos! Daquele Jeito”: 
Attøøxxá
Pagodão baiano com uma pitada bem generosa de eletrônico! O álbum “Luvbox” mescla o romance do pagode paulistano com uma levada de soul e pop, sem deixar de fora o suingue baiano… o puro mete-dança!
Só em 2020, já lançou os singles “A Noite Inteira”, com Alice Caymmi, e “Aquele Swing”, com Nêssa. A #DicaCatraca é essa sonzeira em parceria com OMULU e a rainha Luedji Luna:
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Quantic Solo Live
O produtor, instrumentista e DJ britânico Will Holland, o Quantic, foi precursor em explorar a onda tropical na música. Com inúmeros projetos – como Quantic Solo Live,  The Quantic Soul Orchestra, Quantic and His Combo Bárbaro e Flowering Inferno – vai do soul ao dub, da salsa à cumbia, do hip hop ao afrobeat.
Estamos emocionades que Quantic vem ao Brasil, ainda mais para compor uma festona dessas!
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Batekoo
Plataforma de cultura negra, periférica e LGBT, a Batekoo é mais que uma festa, é um polo de conexão entre jovens que buscam novas narrativas no cenário cultural brasileiro!
Produz moda, música, audiovisual e dança em cinco praças fixas: São Paulo, Rio de Janeiro, Belo Horizonte, Recife e Salvador; e também em duas sazonais: Brasília e Fortaleza. Procure conhecer
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Forró RED Light
Uma releitura de forró bem coladinho com bases eletrônicas: Geninho Nanacoa e Ramiro Galas promovem uma espécie de arrasta-pé futurista, com versões e clássicos apresentados no formato live!
Os samples e remixes ficam lado a lado com o baião, o maxixe, o xote e o frevo. Dá para dançar agarradinho ou não, numa atmosfera de ritmos que, segundo eles, “gruda no cangote”
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Tahira
O DJ paulistano é  visto em lojas de vinis e em coleções privadas como um verdadeiro “digger” (um buscador de raridades). Tahira dedicou os últimos anos pesquisando um vasto espectro da música brasileira, e introduziu cada vez mais ao seu repertório os gêneros afro-ameríndios, apresentando um set para ninguém ficar parado!
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“Queremos! Daquele Jeito” tá pesadão, hein? Então não esqueça de garantir sua entrada com 50% + R$ 5 OFF e bom baile! 
E depois de curtir sete horas de festa, nada melhor que bater um rango de respeito! Dá um check em nossas dicas gastronômicas:  
Veja também: 5 lugares para matar a larica da madrugada em SP
+50% OFF: Festival une Attøøxxá, Quantic e Batekoo na Audio
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publicado primeiro em como se vestir bem
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siblingshuffle · 1 month ago
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Day 7: Secret
I had several ideas for this one, and eventually decided to do Dr. Light’s last and most secret project.
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As you can see, I tried to put a bit of… idk, character? into the paper. It’s not been taken the best care of (100 years in a place that looks like this probably didn’t help the condition, and even then you can probably tell that it was through a couple mishaps during Dr. Light’s life).
(Also I like to imagine he has really bad handwriting which is why so much of it is basically illegible lol)
Lore and Actual Design Reference below!
As mentioned before, no Robot Master lacks a function and all (except for 3 total) had the three laws. I think it’s time to elaborate a bit as to why.
Over the course of his career of building Robot Masters, Dr. Light’s stay-at-home children were the most humanlike due to their independent thought. He knew he was going in the right direction, but they still had limits. They could never quit their job, and had to follow orders when they came from a human superior. To the humans around them, they weren’t really “people” so much as they were tools with a personality; interchangeable with a talking wrench in.
So, Dr. Light got to work on Xote (Aka “X”) as the first Reploid.
It’s demonstrated across the X series that none of the above limitations apply to Reploids. They may be built with a purpose in mind, but they aren’t bound by the 3 laws and can decide for themselves what they are and what they do. For just a few examples:
Pretty sure Alia was a scientist for a little while there before becoming a navigator
Axl quitting Red Alert of his own volition
Zero & X becoming friends despite the latter being created to destroy the former
All of the “new gens” that “went Maverick at will”
The fact that Mavericks can (and do) harm humans
X deciding to become a Maverick Hunter at all
And that’s just the ones that I, a mostly Classic Series fan, am aware of. There’s bound to be even more that I’m NOT aware of!
(This isn’t to say they aren’t still seen as tools sometimes. It’s a very slow progression until they’re on fully even footing.)
So, uh, the TLDR of that all is that the biggest difference between Robot Masters and Reploids is that Robot Masters can’t decide with the same freedom what they want to do with their lives for themselves and can’t really do anything against humans unless under very specific circumstances
Sorry about the rambling lol
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X’s design!
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Forgot to note:
Since Reploids have that much more autonomy there are like. Resources & stuff for Reploids that want to “grow up”. X gradually upgraded from being around 12-13 (pre-games) to like 15 (MMX1) to, in X8-ish, being like a full-grown 20-30-year-old adult. (Add that to things Robot Masters can’t do that Reploids can lol)
X doesn’t have a model number.
Zero does have a model number, because 1) he didn’t know all of Light’s plans and 2) Wily leans more into the “my robots are tools” line of thought. But Zero doesn’t give a heck about his past canonically so even if he doesn’t know that he definitely doesn’t care lol
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oliveiraazul · 5 years ago
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Nas cores do céu capixaba 🤤🌌🤩 recebendo @mafua.oficial no #viradaovitoria ☆☆☆☆ . Registro lindão de @levi.mori . . . . #mulheresnaluz #viradaculturalvitoria #festivaldemusica #grandmalight #iluminadora #lightingdesigner #lightingdesigners #lighting #lightart #lightartist #lightdesigner #lightdesign #luzes #luz #iluminacion #iluminadora #avolites #robepoint #lightpainting #lightpainter #iluminação #showsp #concertlighting #lightshow #iluminacaocenica #lightprogrammer #contemporarylighting #contemporarylighting #stagelighting #lightingprogrammer #xote https://www.instagram.com/p/B3BIfczFR-d/?igshid=7rmx10gnyrh9
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