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Don't Starve: Resumptus


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3 hours ago, Quoth143 said:

And thus Wilson wrote the disclaimer for DST. 

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On 11/30/2016 at 3:30 AM, Quoth143 said:

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Webber's bile fascination. :wilson_ecstatic:

"Montague", huh? :wilson_sneaky:

15 hours ago, Quoth143 said:

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Albert's just used to this daily. He's not even surprised at this point. :wilson_ecstatic:

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“Alright, what’s the plan?” Bobbie asked as she crouched down next to Albert. 

“Miss No-Nonsense actually wants to do this?” He didn’t think Bobbie would agree to this. 

“Yes, mainly for Jack. He probably deserves this more than either of us.” Bobbie said. Albert nodded in agreement. They both knew that it wouldn’t be the same as finding his daughter and brother, but they at least wanted to try to help bring a smile to the old man’s face. 

“Okay, here’s how we bring Christmas to our neck of the woods…”

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2 minutes ago, minespatch said:

I fear one of the goobers or adults is just going to tip him over. :wilson_ecstatic:

The color choice for the skates and earmuffs is relaxing me for some reason. Maybe it's the earthly colors?

I guess. Earthy colors tend to be a bit neutral so it gives off a sense of relaxation that you don't exactly get with bright colors or dark colors. Of course that's just my thinking. 

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“No like dark.” Horace the pig said as he and Maxwell hiked down the cobbled path. Maxwell tinkered with a miner’s hat before it finally came to life, sighing in relief. This would keep Charlie at bay until he reached camp. 

“I know you don’t like that dark.” Maxwell said, irritation lining his voice. Of course he didn’t like the dark, no one really liked the dark, unless you were Them…or Charlie.  

“Where is sun?” Horace asked. Maxwell rolled his eyes. 

“It’s asleep.” He said sarcastically. Horace seemed to accept this as fact and followed close behind Maxwell, not wanting to be out of the dimming range of light emitting from the miner’s hat.  

Frankly Maxwell could’ve cared less for the pig, but he needed an extra hand in taking out a Treeguard after his shadow puppets were destroyed. He was regretting every moment in recruiting Horace. Pigmen smelled awful and their stench got worse the closer they were. They always smelled like a combination of sweat, manure, and…blood? 

Maxwell sniffed the air and was taken aback by the sudden smell of blood circling him. Had there been a recent hound attack? What about one of the others from the camp; had they met another grim demise?

“Say pal…”

Maxwell froze; a voice he did not recognize that voice. It was a man’s voice and it sounded both familiar and unfamiliar. And it came from the darkness around him. Maxwell turned slowly just enough to catch a glimpse of a figure shrouded in black armor and holding Horace’s head in one hand and a bloody shadow sword in the other. He didn’t even hear the figure approach or Horace’s demise.

“Better get back before that light runs out.” The figure cackled as he tossed Horace’s head away. Maxwell didn’t need any other motivation to begin a fright fueled run back to camp. The entire run back Maxwell questioned who that was. 

“Who was that? That wasn’t Charlie! What happened to her? Where did he come from?”

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