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23rd

By 23rd,
in [Don't Starve] Art, Music & Lore

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23rd

23rd

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Wow, that was.... amazing, have you ever thought about taking a career in writing?

Actually, my personal pipe dream is a career in stand-up comedy. Writing is a fun hobby, and making these are helping me pass the time that I spend doing nothing over Christmas break.

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23rd

23rd

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Fingers

 

Wes could swear he was going mad. No, he wasn't being attacked by horrible, strange creatures coming out of nowhere and no, the fluffy little bunnies weren't turning into greasy black blobs of horror, but he was going mad all the same. It happened every night, after he lit the fire pit. First, the music. The creepy tunes reminded him of his childhood at the circus, a little wind up Jack-in-the-Box he used to have. When you turned the handle a tune would play as fast as you turned. You could make the tune go by at a snail's pace, or quicker than a jackrabbit, but the end result was always the same, a tiny man bursting out of the box and waving at you. It was enough to give most people a fright, but it made Wes smile. He didn't smile when he heard the tune now, however..

 

Once you took note of the tune, the hands came. Slowly at first, creeping out from the edges of the darkness. You could swear they were a trick of the eyes, at first. Then you saw the fingers, elongated and claw like, slowly creeping towards you. The arms were thin as twigs, rippling like a pond after a rock is thrown in it. As they got closer, the music would grow louder and louder, and it was driving him mad. If you chased the hands back you could make them go away.. at least, until the next night. He didn't like chasing the things, but it was the only way.

 

Then one night, Wes just didn't. He didn't want to get anywhere near them, he just wanted to be left alone. The fingers got closer, closer.. and passed right by him, heading for the fire. Panic rose in Wes, and he realized what was about to happen. He shouldn't have let his fear get the better of him! Fingers curled underneath the fire, pulling the shadow that the fire itself cast away in small chunks. With each bit of shadow taken the fire died down more and more, until soon there was nothing left. Wes was in the dark, shivering, without anything to fuel his survival.

 

-

 

Morning came, and a small rabbit climbed from its hole in search of food. After a bit of wandering the little furball stumbled across a quaint campsite. There were berry bushes, carrots growing from plots of land, it'd struck the jackpot! Excited, the little rabbit ran about the base in search of anything else it could find, stopping dead as it neared a fire pit. There, lying next to the fire, was a mime. The rabbit tensed, waiting for the camp's resident to wake up, but he didn't. The body was covered head to toe in claw marks, white makeup mixing in with drying blood to make a disgusting pink pool in the grass. Whoever this was, he had died violently, and wasn't a threat to the bunny. It hopped away, content to collect the food scattered about.

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Willette

Willette

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In a perfect world, I could get @The Letter W to make a picture of her favorite scene from one of my stories. Though mostly I just want her to know this thread exists, and hope she enjoys the stories. Same for @Miss. I'd have mentioned @Willette but I'm sure she's at least glanced at my salty pile of garbage (i.e. thread) long enough to know it exists. Oh, who am I kidding? There are so many more artists I want to give my respect to, but there's only so many I can mention in a single post without making myself look silly.

Say, pal, nice stories you have der.

FffKYeE.jpg

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23rd

23rd

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Okay, I swear to god, Jack Carter doesn't get enough attention. Write something about him. Please.

I agree.

 

Say, pal, nice stories you have der.

FffKYeE.jpg

! !! !!! This is so great, thank you!

 

 

The Good Brother

 

It had been a long time since he last heard from his brother William, and Jack Carter was beginning to worry. He'd begun having strange dreams, and he was beginning to believe that they might be omens. In the dreams he spoke to his brother on grassy plains while all manner of strange beasts passed behind them. Birds with dwarfed wings, stilt like legs and a single giant eye. A massive, grotesque spider dragging what looked to be a mass of silk bigger than its body where its abdomen should be. Once he even saw an evergreen rise from the ground and stumble past them with a terrifying gait. Not even William looked right, his hair black and spectacles gone, face gaunter than the somewhat pudgy appearance Jack remembered. In the dreams William talked about unimaginable horrors and hellish torture, casually mentioning how it would end up being inflicted on the people he was connected to.

 

One time he mentioned Wendy and Abigail.

 

Fingers ran through a swath of sandy blonde hair as Jack Carter sat at the edge of his bed, unable to sleep. If these dreams were really a sign of things to come.. he shuddered. He passed by the twins' room in the dead of night, peeking in to make sure they were okay. They were, thankfully. Sleeping angels.. a soft smile passed over Jack's face as he closed the door quietly behind him on his way to the study. He needed to draw something, take his mind off of these troubling nightmares.

 

A dim light turned on and illuminated the drawing paper that sat atop Jack's desk. Lead pencil idly tapped at the edges of the paper as he considered the things that would take his mind off of things. Perhaps he could draw a little friend for William in the dream world. Who knows, maybe it would even appear in Jack's dreams if he spent some time on it. The sketch was lazy at first, just a round bubble with legs, but then Jack added the horns.. the rounded teeth.. the details of fur. He grabbed at one of the orange pencils, filling in the coloring. "Otto von Chesterfield, Esquire." A small grin formed at the corners of Jack's mouth as he finished his silly little creation. It was perfect.

Edited by 23rd
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Tesability

Tesability

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In regards to the William vs William trio, I'd definately say that's a big case of Inventor - 1, Magician - 0. XP

 

Also, the only story I couldn't finish here (due to huge risk of suffocation the tale was inducing) was the one with Wickerbottom and corn...XD I just...litterally rolled out of my chair before I could finish,

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23rd

23rd

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could you make a story about smallbirds? My sister loves them.

 

Tweet

 

Tallbirds do NOT go down easy, as Wickerbottom discovered. But this egg.. oh, it would be so worth it. Wickerbottom loved aviary creatures more than any other, and the chance to hatch and study one of these specimens was just too good to pass up. Shoes clacked against the ground of the rock biome as she made her way back to her camp, tenderly tucking the large blue egg with white spots in her backpack.

 

She felt the wood creaking under her feet and brought her backpack down towards the fire pit. The next three days consisted of a lot of base remodeling, food gathering and of course note taking. Her special care and preparation came in handy on the fourth morning, when she woke up to see a tiny black creature waddling about the base. It looked a lot like the Tallbird she had to fight for the egg, but the legs were but stubs and the single eye took up the majority of its fuzzy black body. When the Smallbird finally noticed Wickerbottom it chirped in excitement, running straight for her. Not even Wickerbottom spending the whole of the second day sanding the wooden floors of her base flat could account for the clumsiness of a newborn however and the Smallbird tripped over nothing, smacking its beak into the floor.

 

In a sudden panic Wickerbottom ran over and scooped it up, tenderly caressing the top of its bulbous body as she whispered maternal comforts to it. "It's okay little one, I'm here. I'll protect you, I promise." She felt its beak bury into the pit of her arm, the huge eye closing as it began to let out a mix between a tweet and a purr. Not even Wickerbottom could hide a wide smile, her normally stoic demeanor becoming very warm, very quickly. "Aww.. I think I'll name you Tweet."

 

There were no notes taken that day, only hugs.

Edited by 23rd
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23rd

23rd

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Bacon & Eggs

 

Wolfgang ran a pudgy sausage finger along the redbird's feathers as it ate the cooked purple flesh he held in his other hand. A smile was hidden under a burly mustache as the strongman thought about the eggs he would be getting from this soon, and the delicious meal they'd be a part of. Bacon and eggs, he couldn't get enough of them! The bird loved the monster meat, and he loved the eggs it turned them into, a win-win situation if there ever was one!

 

While the bird ate Wolfgang looked over towards the row of crockpots he'd set up when he made his latest camp. One of them was still rumbling, the tantalizing smells of bacon wafting out of the shaking metal top. It was all he could do to keep from drooling at the prospect. Ow! What was that.. did his redbird just bite him?! It'd never done that before!

 

Wolfgang's face contorted into anger as he turned to look back to his pet, but then changed to a look of surprise just as quickly. One of the bird's eyes had turned glossy, and the feathers were beginning to fall off of its body. In horror, Wolfgang ripped his hand away and slammed the door shut, watching the bird in dreadful anticipation. Sure enough the poor redbird's torture wasn't over, muscles in the wings were expanding and popping, crippling it. The little bird fell forward in its cage, neck snapping as it hit the bottom. Wolfgang felt sorrowful, and responsible. He should have known feeding something only monster meat would backfire! Poor little redbird.. but at least the eggs had been safe; the poisonous effects must have been filtered out when they went through the redbird's body, right? Yes, this made sense, otherwise he'd be in a lot of pain.

 

A tendon in Wolfgang's leg snapped.

Edited by 23rd
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