seen from Brazil
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ITS DONEEE :D
Drawing this took a long, LONG time but I am super proud of the results! I had so much fun drawing this and I think it also gave me an opportunity to harness the winter designs for some of my characters (Isidor especially).
Hope y’all like the artwork! ♥️ I can’t wait to draw more plants 🥀🌻
@the-revolutionary / @weepingnoor Happy birthday to your boy! I hope you enjoy this fun little doodle comic. 🎂🥳🎁
In case you can't read Sashenka's "crows":
Dear Comrade Danylo,
Happy birthday! I have heard about your favorite meals and dug up some recipes for your special day. I was also made aware of your allergies, so the sweet pampushkys are filled with apple jam. I hope it doesn't cause you problems. I also hope you enjoy the food!
Yours sincerely, A. Zimov
I almost put this image in my recent post on my story blog by accident, a post where one of my characters writes a romantic letter to his wife 😔
Granted, if this was a present-day modern AU, Danylo would ABSOLUTELY send that image.
Credit to my friend @inconspicuous-raven for making the meme above 😤🥺
A lil sneak peak doodle for my next in my series of drawings with the Varako vampires biting their human comrades, this time with Serhiy and Danylo! 🩸👀
Here’s the previous artwork with Isidor and Sapar…!
Makovsky-Kalynenko Family Tree
As of December 1922
I made this family tree in Google Slides and it was surprisingly fun to make! I should clarify that Shoshana and Danylo are expecting, but the child is not born yet, which is why it is not included in the tree. I definitely want to make more family trees for my characters in the future!
Also, I am currently writing a little snippet for my story that I hope to post soon! 👀
I give the people what they want 😤🫴
Danylo is the type of guy to break a banana in half to look manly instead of peeling it. I wouldn’t know anything about bananas though, considering I’m allergic 😩✨
Danylo is allergic to strawberries though 😤
Banana 🤯
The First Assignment
December 1922 ✯ Petrozadovsk
“Ah, you lot must be Comrade Polynin’s group,” he greeted.
Grigory nodded and greeted him back, “I’m Polynin.”
“Osinin, Ostap Eduardovich,” he and Grisha shake hands. “Are you aware of the events which occurred in this region last year?”
“You mean the revolt by the Finnish separatists, yes?”
Osinin nods affirmatively, “Indeed. And with this recent invasion, we’re now expecting a resurgence of violence. And with violence comes the rabids. There’s going to be a hell of a spike in infestations as the enemy moves southwards.” He then gestures to the map of Karelia on the table, “We’ve already been receiving reports of activity ‘round the region; Uhtua, Kestenga–” before quickly shaking his head, “you get the idea. Point is, you and your comrades are heading to Porosozero. Some agitators are apparently causing a ruckus over there.”
When he taps on the location on the map, it becomes apparent that the location is pretty far from the more northern villages at risk of occupation by the invading forces.
Comrade Glogov certainly noticed the difference. “Shouldn’t we be focusin’ on the places up north?” he asks. Strange, Serhiy thought, wasn’t he illiterate?
“Well, Porosozero is still close to the Finnish border,” Osinin shrugged, before his expression hardened, “considering Finland’s involvement in assisting Alexei Nikolaevich, along with last year’s violence, we should not minimise any risk.” With that said, he goes on to explain, “we originally sent fifty to deal with the agitators, but now there seems to be a further issue related to rabids.”
The head then turns to a younger comrade who steps forward and clears his throat, “I’m one of the original fifty who were sent to Porosozero. My assistant platoon commander, Comrade Kamenev, ordered me to return here and report our situation.”
“Go on, comrade,” nudged Grisha.
“When we arrived, the riot just stopped by itself before we could do anything. The rioters told us that they revolted in the first place to get our attention to a worrying situation north of town; villagers turning up dead or going missing. They told us that they believed it was the doing of vampires. Of course, we assumed that this group of rabids would be manageable, and our platoon was pretty sizeable, so our platoon leader and nineteen other comrades went up north to take care of the situation. But…”
Mstislav Yurievich cuts in, “They didn’t come back, did they.”
He shakes his head, “No, they did not.”
“So there’s around thirty of you left?”
“No, that’s not all,” he goes on to add, “after the first twenty disappeared, we sent fifteen more comrades to go look for the others.”
“You have to be kidding me,” Grigory muttered to himself. From what Serhiy could make out, he sounded a little concerned.
“When they didn’t return, the locals asked what was left of us to go out next. We declined this time, but another revolt took place and kicked us all out. Comrade Kamenev and the rest have currently set up camp east of Porosozero.”
Grigory sighs, taking all this new information into account. He looks back at Osinin, “Are there any additional details we need to know?”
“How large is this place?” Sapar Akhmetovich inquired.
Comrade Osinin tilted his hand vaguely, “Around a thousand, less even. It’s a small logging village, no different than any other small village in Karelia.”
─── ⋆⋅ ཐི ✯ ཋྀ ⋅⋆ ───
“You seem a little bothered by what we got, comrade,” Danylo remarks to Grigory.
“Well, compared to an actual invasion, it’s definitely less stress inducing. It’s good that we have something,” Comrade Polynin visibly quotes, “‘easy.’ I say ‘easy’ as in it’s not directly related to the invasion—don’t take that as me attempting to be lazy. I’m glad it’s an ‘easy’ job in that aspect because I am not used to this region yet, and neither are the rest of us.”
“So we aren’t dealing with Alexei Nikolaevich just yet?” Serhiy frowned.
“No, but do not interpret ‘easy’ so literally,” Grisha cautioned, “So far, there are thirty-five comrades missing after going out to deal with apparent rabid vampiric activity. If this is indeed the case, I recommend keeping your guards up. You should know already, but I would recommend talking to Mstislav Yurievich about killing rabids as a safe reminder.” He then looks to Glogov, who is fiddling with his flask, and makes a forced huff, “as long as doesn’t plan on pissing himself during the 160 versts to Porosozero–!”
“Oi–!” the older man looked up, alarmed. “It’s water, kid! Honest!”
“It better be, Mstislav!”
The Kalynenko Sword
December 29, 1922 — Murmansk Governorate
“You’re taking it out now?” Serhiy leans in all conspiratorial all of a sudden, “What if Comrade Polynin takes it from you?”
“I brought it this far, I doubt there’s anything he could do about it now,” Danylo Bohdanovych reassured. Noticing Serhiy beginning to eye at them, he says, “What? Grinko’s bound to find out sooner than later.”
Speaking of Grinko, he leans away from whatever he was conversing about with Mstislav and asks, with suspicion laced in their tone, “Find out what exactly?”
A slow grin spreads itself on Dana’s face, “Why, I’m glad you asked, Comrade Polynin!” before with swift movement, he unsheathed his shashka. The sound of the blade sliding was biting, more than the cold.
Grigory Petrovich’s eyes went wide. “Wha- wha- what is that?” he inquires with an anxious stutter. He stands up with his arms stretched out as if he’s trying to placate some bear, “Where did you get that thing?!”
“Dana!” Serhiy chides in their attempt at admonishment. They then look at the rest of the group and in a weak voice, declare, “I-I didn’t know he would bring that!”
But the self proclaimed Cossack doesn’t care to call out Serhiy’s blatant lie. “My shashka!” Danylo is still grinning proudly, “I brought it from home, isn’t it cool?”
Sapar perks up his eyebrow and gestures at Dana, “You own a sword?”
“It’s a family heirloom!” he goes on to explain what Serhiy himself has heard many, many times before: “Every man with the Kalynenko name who goes off to war brings this sword with them! It’s been with my grandfather in Crimea, my great-great-grandfather took it when fighting against Napoleon– er, no offence to you, Isidor Konstantinovich…”
“None taken, I hate Napoleon anyway!” Isidor chimed, seemingly too fascinated by Dana’s monologue to be offended.
“Point is, it’s a good sword! At least, it should be if it lasted this long. And I plan to use it…!”
“Use it?” Comrade Glogov chuckles, “Now I haven’t gone to school or nothin’ but I know enough history to know that thing is not seeing a lick of combat.”
Comrade Polynin sharply interjects with a hiss, “Nor should it even be here-!”
Awkwardly, Danylo laughs it off, “Pfft, sure it will! What if my gun runs out of bullets and I don’t have anything left to defend myself with?”
“Kid, you ain’t Nevsky,” Mstislav flatly laid out. “Keep the thing, sure, it could be good for putting out rabids, but for the love of God, if you die because you get all giddy and pull it out while some White puts a bullet through ya, don’t let me be the one who has to break the news to your family.”
“Yeah, that’s my job!” Serhiy remarks, jokingly prodding their elbow in Dana’s side. Danylo laughs and elbows him back.
─── ⋆⋅ ཐི ✯ ཋྀ ⋅⋆ ───
Some fun dialogue to justify why Dana has a sword in my story! 😤
Not the most New Year’s related post but hey! Who said I have to stick to a formula? ✨
