#banderole

[helene-tolden]

Banderole My Elsass Life pour mon stand à la fête de la BD de Fontenoy la Joute qui se déroule le weekend du 27 et 28 juillet 2024 !

😍

Commander chez EasyFlyer.fr, très bon rapport qualité prix.

[observatoiredumensonge]

La banderole anti-Macron du retraité faisait désordre

(Satire à vue) C’est le début d’une affaire qui va défrayer la chronique… Par Jany Leroy Continue reading Untitled

[imageculte]

Cette banderole « Sorry Charles, see you later » a été déployée par des manifestant·e·s de l’intersyndicale de Calais au cap Blanc-Nez, sur la Côte d’Opale, face aux côtes anglaises.

Message adressé au roi Charles d’Angleterre, suite à l’annulation récente de sa visite protocolaire en France pour fait d’agitation sociale. « Parce que nos amis anglais n’ont pas le monopole de l’humour ». Posté par Tagrawla sur Mastodon.

Note : j’ai ajouté la seconde image (source Libération), parce que le making of c’est toujours cool et instructif.

[usedcarheaven]

Gerard David  (1460-1523)    Annonciation

[pika-blur]

some dude just went in my dms trying to get me to buy a commission completely unprompted askldaskldj

[asmadaboussi]

[mundrakan]

Prompt: Wand (and I really wanted to make this a dirty joke, but couldn't)

@wolfstarmicrofic - 254 words

When they let Sirius go, they issued him a wand as replacement for the one they had broken, and it was just as shoddy as the apology the ministry issued on top. Remus wanted to fight for more than that, but Sirius was too tired. Azkaban had broken him.

He allowed Remus to take him to Diagon Alley though, all the way to Ollivander's like a child before their first year of Hogwarts – and the wonder in his eyes was much the same too. He hadn't walked these streets for ages, long enough to believe he would never walk them again.

There he had to get a proper new wand, and the old wandmaker seemed excited, trying this one and that. None worked. They all refused to bow to Sirius' will, what little he had left, and with each his hand shook more, his eyes fell darker.

At last Olivander nervously scoured through the old wands, the used and returned ones, the cursed and the broken ones, when Sirius spotted it, a simple dark thing, still with remnants of a ministry banderole around it, from whence it had been confiscated. “That one.”

One could see Olivander's hesitation, before finally he gave in, laying it into Sirius' hands. He didn't even cast anything, wave with it, nothing. All by itself the room glowed warmer, the light shone softer, and Sirius... breathed easier.

Olivander didn't refuse to sell it. It was pointless. Outside Remus could finally ask: “You know this one?”

“It was Alphard's.”

[smallgodseries]

[image description: An inky cat - almost a silhouette - sits tall in profile, a glowing red-orange circle (with curled banderoles from at  top and sides) haloing her head. Behind her, an almost card-like scaled golden background, and behind that, the deep blue-black of space. Text reads, “160, A VOID ~ THE SMALL CAT OF BEING MISUNDERSTOOD ~ after the great Théophile Steinlen”]

• • • • • 

The first thing she remembers is warmth, tiny bodies crashing over her own as they fought for a share of their mother’s milk.  Warmth, and a purr that was the world, the sweet vibration of a mother’s love.  The voices in the distance barely registered with her:

“One cat was one cat too many.  You can’t keep six of them.  Those kittens have to go.”

“But Mama—”

“The kittens or the whole damn cat!  One or the other!”

Then she remembers hands, grabbing her and pulling her away from her littermates, from her mother, stuffing her into a cold, rough sack while her mother meowed piteously in the background, broken-hearted and confused.  A door slammed.  The meowing stopped.  And then there came cold, freezing cold, and wetness, and one by one her brothers and sisters stopped moving, and still she fought, furious, cold and wet and tiny and angry, until again, hands, pulling the sack out of the water,  pulling the surviving kittens out into the light.

After that came warmth again, and bottles held by human hands, and fosters who cared so much about the tiny lives in their care, but who knew from the beginning that they couldn’t save them all.  After that came open eyes, and light, and a world.  A world so big and so filled with beautiful things…for the cats who got to leave the shelter.  Her brother, born with a white patch over half his face, got to go.  Her sister, calico and striking, got to go.  And she, black as midnight, stayed.

“We’re sorry, sweetie,” said the volunteers, after yet another open day when no one took her home.  “It’s hard for the black cats.  They don’t understand how wonderful you are.”

And she purred, for them, and she played, for them, and she stopped trying to be charming, for the people who came every second Saturday.  She didn’t need them to understand her.  She wasn’t going anywhere.

She spent her whole life at that shelter, and when new black kittens came in, she taught them how to be cute and coy, how to flirt with the potential adopters.  How to find themselves a home.  And one night, when she went to sleep, a strange dog was waiting for her.

“Hello!” it said.  “Hello, I love you!”

The dog, it transpired, was named Adora, and Adora was a small god.  Not a large god, not life or death or anything of the like, but a small god, of imaginary friends.  And the cat, who had never had a name she truly felt was hers to keep or claim, had done enough for the kittens in her care, the misunderstood and the overlooked, that they were offering her the chance to be the same.  She could be a small god.  She could choose her portfolio.  She could do anything.

Anything but go back to the shelter, where her unbreathing body had already been found by a weeping volunteer.  That time was finished.

She looked at the dog.  She looked at the crying people who had been her only friends.  She wrapped her tail around her legs.

“I am A Void,” she said, “and I will be a small cat for the misunderstood.”

She takes her duties very seriously.  She is with those who are judged unfairly, who speak too fast or too loudly or not enough.  Who are out of step or out of fashion, who never get their points across.  She is with them all, and while she does not love as freely as Adora, she cares for all who bear her banner.  She cares so very deeply.

But she cares for the little black cats most of all.

[opbackgrounds]

Personally I think requem lebanderole is a cooler name than three pace hum notch slash, though I believe lebanderole is a bit of a mistranslation as banderole is an actual fencing term.

[badly-drawn-doflamingo]

???? What the fuck kind of lore drop is this

I don’t remember this in the manga, other than the off mention during his “I am Brook” speech, (joining the crew with his bounty and such)

I wonder when Oda will come back to this..

TRANSCRIPTION

Ryuma, standing before Brook: “Now tell me, what part of that retched excuse for a body would you like me to severe with my ‘Arrow Notch Slash?’

Brook, with clear anger rising: “Shut up.. you DON’T KNOW THE FIRST THING ABOUT THAT TECHNIQUE. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO EVEN SPEAK ITS NAME.”

Brook, now panting: “I use to serve in my kingdom’s raider squad. The quick draw attack I was most skilled was originally called ‘The Requiem la Banderole’ however my cowards in arms renamed it after my sword fighting skills.

[mappsiemakesthings]

On Sunday, traveling on the train from south Germany back to the north, I won a game of yarn chicken with the "Study Dragon Tail's Shawl" which I had started in January 2023:

Today, while waiting at the rheumatologist's, I wove in the ends:

And now it just needs a little soak and blocking and it's completely finished! ^_^

I lost the yarn banderole, but it's some merino lace yarn. The hook was a 4 mm hook. It's all just blo hdc and I'm super happy with the resulting squishy texture 💕💕💕

[imageculte]

« Il n’y a pas que le travail dans la vie la retraite à 60 ans c’est déjà trop tard », 18 mars 2023, Pont Marcadet, rue Ordonner, Paris XVIIIe arrondissement. Photo publiée par Gwen Fauchois sur Twitter. Note : on a passé l’image en noir et blanc on trouve cela plus fort… question de goût.

[tekitothemagpie]

Most of the strawhats attack frames are so cute 🥺

Luffy : gomu-gomu no pistol

Zoro : two-sword style, hawk wave

Sanji : flanchet

Robin : mil flerus, gigantesco mano, stamp

Franky : Franky boxing

Brook : soul solid, swallow banderole

[pwlanier]

Engelskonsole, um 1800

Wood carved, later polychrome frame remnants, wings formerly gold-plated, inscription on banderole fragmentarily preserved.

Dorotheum

[chicinsilk]

US Vogue August 15, 1954

Mary Jane Russell wears a two-piece button-back dress in black and white Rodier wool-mohair tweed with a piqué collar, ribbon streamers. By Harvey Berin. Black and white tweed handbag, by Coronet. White velvet beret, by Irène of New York.

Mary Jane Russell porte une robe deux pièces boutonnée au dos en tweed de laine et mohair Rodier noir et blanc avec col piqué, banderoles en ruban. Par Harvey Berin. Sac à main en tweed noir et blanc, par Coronet. Béret en velours blanc, par Irène of New York.

Photo Frances McLaughlin vogue archive

[jloisse]

🇵🇸 Les étudiants de l’Université de #Manchester déploient une immense banderole exigeant la rupture de tous les liens avec l’occupation #israélienne et ses partenaires.