Remember The Episode Where The First Squad Turned Into Animals? And I Was Wondering, Is It Possible To

Remember the episode where the First Squad turned into animals? And I was wondering, is it possible to use the Cave of Spirits to turn an animal into a human? What would ApeTrully and Jumpy look like as humans? And what kind of animal would Mr. No Hands become?

It would certainly be an interesting and fun concept!

I feel like Apetrully would look pretty similar to his usual form, just less hairy (cause you know... humans...monkies... lol) and possibly Albino-esque? Considering his very white/red coloring. Jumpy on the other hand is a well of possibilities! Also, admittedly I drew him with white eyes at first, before i realized that he still could have black, like Lin Chung.

Mr. No Hands gives off bird energy for sure. Maybe an Albatross? Loud and very brazen. xD Or a Crane, and his crest could be same yellow color as his headband.

(sorry for low effort birds, drawing animals is hard)

More Posts from Kroltheprotocol and Others

kroltheprotocol

2 years ago

Hi! What would a traditional bride from Śląsk wear on her wedding day?

Hello! Answering your question might be a bit complicated, because Śląsk is quite a large area divided into two main subregions [Górny Śląsk - Upper Silesia and Dolny Śląsk - Lower Silesia], each having several types of costumes. However, there are some common elements that I might show you below.

Most of Silesian brides would wear: a jacket/blouse called jakla [often in black colour seen as the most elegant/dignifying - but it was changing with time and fashion trends], a skirt painted or embroidered with floral motifs [common in most of Silesian festive clothing] and a so-called “turkish shawl” [chusta turecka with decorative patterns and fringe] worn over the shoulders. One of characteristic elements is also a wreath/crown made usually from green myrtle - and the flower crowns were reserved for the bridesmaids during the wedding that [in general, flower wreaths would be worn only by unmarried women].

Here’s example from Bytom - clothing called strój rozbarski after Rozbark that is nowadays district of the Bytom city [source]:

Another shot of the Bytom wedding costume [source]:

Here you have a presentation of wedding clothing from Mysłowice city [source]:

Couple from modern-day Katowice, beginning of 20th century [source]:

Two examples from Siemianowice Śląskie, 1930s and beginning of 20th century [source]:

Two photographs from the beginning of 20th century showing couples from Racibórz on their wedding day [sources: 1,2]:

Another example from Racibórz, second picture shows the act of changing the wreath to a married woman’s head covering [source]:

And the same custom of changing the wreath to a headwear on the example of Bytom costume [source]:

In general, the myrtle wreaths were so important, that most of the brides would later keep them in a flat showcase on the wall as a memorial of the wedding [image below is a printscreen from the Silesian Museum’s virtual tour]:

The black jakla jacket might look a bit boring at the first sight [as I’ve heard before] - but it’s only an effect on badly balanced photographs… just look at these details [source]:

This is just a quick reply that focuses on the Upper Silesia region, but I hope it gives you a good picture.

[note to self: I should post more examples from Silesia]

The day I died but Somehow Stayed

23th of February was so normal it hurts. It was the 23th day since my 26th birthday and 24th day since I’d finally started treating my MDD.

I don’t remember what it was that I ate. I don’t remember what song on Spotify was the soundtrack of that day. I have physical memory though - my whole body feels sore and hard to move because of the hiit exercises I started doing. It was painful to breathe, let alone walk or sit or even laugh.

I have a mental memory - I was scrolling through concerts’ ads hoping to see some rad bands performing in Kyiv in late April. My sister will have turned sweet 16 on the 28th, so I wanted to make that day a memory she could go back to every time she feels upset or broken or unable to keep pace. Be careful what you wish for, they say. Now I wish I did. As my little angel will never forget her sour 16 she met under russian occupation in Mariupol, dreaming not of Black Pink or Maneskin singing to her in the flesh, but of taking hot shower after 2 months of living in the basement of the Culture Palace she once used to go to dance classes. Once. How unfair this “once” was just 90 days ago. An eternity.

I have a memory that makes me angry and sick - an echo of a conversation me and my partner had that day. With my taking antidepressants I was also trying to finally try living again, first time after 6 years of isolation and self-destruction. We were planning to go to the Philharmonia and I was thrilled - it felt like I was going to meet the Queen, no less. Social anxiety will do it with you, beware.

I remember myself whining about the new Batman movie and how we’d rather go to the cinema if only there was any decent title. You see, I love Batman. The me from the 23th did, at least. The me who was complaining about going out to listen to some music live.

And that’s where I feel like throwing up. That’s where I get angry with my past-self.

How easy life was for her. How she took for granted the possibility to wake up to cars honking and birds tweeting outside along with a bunch of I-don’t-know-who-but-they-are-hilarious users on Twitter doing the same.

I want to scream at myself, say “why am I suffering now so much, why do I cry every night and beg the gods to take me in my sleep and not with a GRAD fragment splitting my throat open or cutting off my limbs or burning me alive in my own bed, why my concern is not that about how to find the money to finally get my mom to Prague on her birthday - cause she always wanted to visit Europe - but how to find a way to fucking just hear her voice and know she is still alive there, in Mariupol, for now she is still breathing, why am I supposed to live through this hell same way dozens of my Ukrainian ancestors did just because there’s a MONSTER neighboring my country, why am I to be exterminated just because I’m Ukrainian wanting to live in MY country and speak MY language, why the people I used to call relatives and friends who live in russia are telling me I just have to “bear with it” and “get denazificated” and “be corrected and thus saved”, why they deny every missile that hits my street or say I deserved it because I live in Ukraine, WHY?”

WHY DO I STILL REMEMBER HOW IT FEELS LIVING IN THE EVENING OF THE 23TH OF FEBRUARY?

I went to sleep at about 3 am. My body was sore and I was annoyed thinking that tomorrow I had a training scheduled. It’s a YouTube hiit marathon so I’d better not skip it.

It was about 4 am I fell asleep at last thinking about the fanfic I was writing to unwind. My personal lullaby.

And it was 5 something when my partner startled me into the reality. Fully dressed, in his Bershka parka and winter Martins. It was dark in the room and I couldn’t make out the features of his face, all covered in shadows. He was silent, probably waiting for me to fully wake up. But it suddenly felt like I’d never closed my eyes at all. The alertness was overwhelming.

When he opened his mouth to explain himself, I already knew what happened. That moment is still the one I’m trapped in. The one I died at and got myself buried in bomb shelter with kids crying and the old praying all around while the constant bombing laughs at them, knocking at our doors to let the “russian world” they brought us in.

My love opened his mouth and I think I will never be able to escape the word he whispered.

It wasn’t “war”.

It was “russia”.

Synonyms.

pic: our basement hideout at the first day of the War. People are settling in. Very cold and dusty and overall terrible. Still better to die under shelling.

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