#day 124

[daily-odile]

mosesdile

[autisticaradiamegido]

day 124

now this is the vibe

[dailykaeyas]

What are they playing

[werewolfaday]

day 124

[ryoshudoodles]

124° Day of waiting for Canto 9

[dailythebatter]

[kaveh-a-day]

Day 124

There’s better quality if you click i promise

[daily-yanqing]

(day 124) he's still upset about it (textless version under cut)

[eridude]

kurloz doodle

[days-until-burnout]

Day 124 -

Characters - Tango/Joel Words - 351 Time - 15 mins Content - Pseudo-Life Game

Tango’s legs give out from under him, his world collapsing with him as he gasps for air, his lungs tight with smoke and soot. His hand tightens on the handle of his sword, pushing the splinters into blackened palms. The world spins without him, a darkness welcoming him.

Flaming blood courses from his fingertips through his veins, burning every inch of him with the bitter taste of death on his tongue. There is iron and rotten flesh on this tongue, in the air, staining the very world they claw to survive in. 

Dirt under his fingernails, poison in his clothes. 

Eventually the world cools around him, stealing every ounce of heat from his body. Too closely, somewhere in the depths of his mind and soul, a voice calls him and urges him for more, for bloodshed. 

Hungry. Raging. 

He drags his sword closer, cutting through the blades of grass as the breeze caresses his face. It lulls him, gently coaxing him to stand up, to find his next victim, to look at the traitors and plunge his sword in their hearts. Relentless, vengeance, anything to shut the rage. 

Embers fly, subtle warmth teasing his jaw. 

Tango opens his eyes to the falling sun, a world covered in oranges that look too close to fire. His chest rises and falls, the word dry on his tongue. 

Joel stands in front of him, his clothes stained in crimson and his trusty ax dragged behind him. His breathing is laborious, his eyes tired. 

His footsteps are muffled into the grass, his breathing deafened by the whistling wind of the incoming night. Tango does nothing to stop the fellow red name from getting closer, their weapons useless by their sides. 

Without warning, Joel drops by his side, their shoulders colliding as the world shakes again. He breathes out heavily, yet drops his head on Tango’s shoulder, a familiar heat shared between them. 

“I’ve nowhere to go,” Joel whispers, and Tango knows. He had seen the bases burn, the air filled with gunpowder, more bodies struck down. 

Tango laughs, the cuts and bruises finally aching. “Same.”

_____

they will team up next series. trust. i can see the future

[pearlescentmoon-enjoyers]

Morning doodle

[daily-fern]

Helllo I am Fern and he is me can you draw the scene where Finn fights him w the weed wacker from Three Buckets?

day 124 (three buckets)

[drawing-pomni-daily]

day 124!

orb pomni

[risequotes]

Daily Rise Quotes: DAY 124

Leo: I can't do it. I got no mystic mojo. I'm useless!

Raph: Hey, that's not true, brother. You just got to believe in yourself, and know this: If I die in this maze, I will haunt you for the rest of your life.

Donnie: Well, in theory you'd both be ghosts, so I'm not sure how you would-

Raph: Donnie, not helping!

(Season 1, Episode 6B - Minotaur Maze)

[chrysaliscreatorii]

[badlydrawnkankri]