#threnodic dream world

[redsrainbows]

VAJE CHARACTER MOODBOARDS‼️

this is to all my dream world, jovial playground, tralude, and general roskaa123 game fans :3

hope you enjoy!!! feel free to use these for anything if you like the characters!!!!!

If you’ve never checked out Jovial Playground or Dream World, please give the neocities site a look around and check out all the info!! (Linked above at the word Vaje)

[toastedclownery]

A series of loosely related doodles

[kleptomori]

[bed-wed-behead-your-fave]

Threnodic from DreamWorld

[thatbratcohen]

drawings of elegiac, liminal, and threnodic from dream world on roblox

[littletootler]

UNFINISHED ESCAPADES

My mind is a ruin for unfinished escapades. Masqueraded lies are all I hear creeping from under the wreckage- a graveyard of thoughts. A hero has died here. But somehow his picaresque soul wanders off to the Heavens without any need for a grand funeral or an inspiring obituary. No need for bleary eyes and salty tears. After all, what good is a hero without a tombstone to cement his legacy onto the hearts of those beloved? To them that’s a brutal tragedy, one pertaining to melancholy, blood and death. To me, it was merely melancholy, blood and death.

The real tragedy, however, came crashing from the cerulean skies. The hero would plummet, head first, onto the hard terra, his wings clipped. And as he skydived, the zephyr whispered in threnodic fashion: a battle cry for the world soon to be devoid of song or sound alike. And so he fell…… That day, Gods allover spoke of mighty thunders, yet not a witness to speak of such power or beauty. As for the hero, he was soon no more than a child’s bed time story (So much for that loquacious talk on cementing one’s legacy).

Nevertheless, after The Great Thunder the hero had left behind one last souvenir: his deathbed in the form of a massive crater, one which reeked of purposelessness. And from that emptiness that bore into the Earth rose another hero, as terrified of existing as his predecessor. Perhaps that’s how all thoughts are born. Each of them are shaped with a fear of the apocryphal and gilded by the hope and expectation that it might become something even greater; a dream, a story passed onto generations or simply a mirthful journey. This hero needs only to live.

Soon after, the wind began its customary whisper, thunders were marveled upon and another Earth-bending crater was forged: yet another hero, another escapade, another tragedy. This was the endless cycle of my mind and there would be no end to this. A most devious torture I’d say. My mind is a ruin for unfinished escapades; in other words, a dreamer’s worst tragedy.

By The Little Tootler

Illustration: Ending scene from Nomadland

[toastedclownery]

Hello gang

[toastedclownery]

I return with some food

And some human au stuff (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

[toastedclownery]

Ah yes my favorite Roska characters. Liberal, Election and Thermometer

[toastedclownery]

Happy birthday to Thee Goober!

[toastedclownery]

Wyd when me and my gang pull up ⁉️

[toastedclownery]

I can finally post the dream trio lineup!! And the icons I made for their insta posts

Here's some bonus stuff

[bed-wed-behead-your-fave]

threnodic from dream world