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After buying wortox, i joined a world which had some really good players in it. we actually had a really good base set-up!

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Sadly, one of us kept griefing the base and we only had 4 people (including me) left at the start of deerclops.

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everyone dies and i'm left to fight deerclops alone. thankfully, someone else rejoins and we just barely take him down.

this was the last screenshot i took before i left. it was fun!20190329141313_1.thumb.jpg.844c0ce94fa2148792b10fb53f40b960.jpg

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Epic battle against the Dragonfly: I wanted to test the new garden-gnome-super-bomb, but after the first explosion half of the retaining wall for the larvae exploded. To make matters worse a horde of flies has come to annoy me, as well as a violent storm. In the end I had to fight a grueling battle with every resource in my inventory :'D

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"I have to say, this fits like a glove, Ms. Wickerbottom."

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Journal Entry 1

It has been a hundred and fifteen days since I have landed in this strange, cursed galaxy. I've firmly established myself in a desert full of resources, and I plan to find a way out of here.

Spring has broken, and a new flock of those strange, terrible giant birds have descended upon the land. I must make preparations to hunt them for their down feathers. These feathers got me through the previous summer They made excellent fans.

I wonder how the Lumas are faring without me to care for them. They must be worried sick about me by now, but at least Peach and the others may be able to take care of them while i'm away... I can only hope they're alright, anyways. They're in good hands... I think.

For now, while the sky looms dark with rains, and while the food still cooks, i shall rest awhile. And wait. 

 

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5 hours ago, GetNerfedOn said:

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"I have to say, this fits like a glove, Ms. Wickerbottom."

20190331011818_1.thumb.jpg.d67e859634cd9b61cff2f717172e4f51.jpg

Journal Entry 1

It has been a hundred and fifteen days since I have landed in this strange, cursed galaxy. I've firmly established myself in a desert full of resources, and I plan to find a way out of here.

Spring has broken, and a new flock of those strange, terrible giant birds have descended upon the land. I must make preparations to hunt them for their down feathers. These feathers got me through the previous summer They made excellent fans.

I wonder how the Lumas are faring without me to care for them. They must be worried sick about me by now, but at least Peach and the others may be able to take care of them while i'm away... I can only hope they're alright, anyways. They're in good hands... I think.

For now, while the sky looms dark with rains, and while the food still cooks, i shall rest awhile. And wait. 

 

Very nice the story you created behind us, I find that "Cursed Galaxy" is the most appropriate name that Rosalina can give to the Constant! :'D

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(Journal entry number 2)

The hunt went exceedingly lopsidedly. One of the foul birds had a flock of goslings that was twice the number of its fellows' flocks. After a long, grueling duel where I dispatched the parent Goose, they fell upon me with charged, whirling bodies. I tried to run, but to my horror I found that they were blindingly fast, and they quickly caught up and tore me into shreds.

But it seems that my spirit could not leave this cursed realm, and as I watched, irate, unable to act as they devoured what bits of food and meat they could pick from my carcass. 

And all of a sudden, a dark void suddenly consumed the world, and I was whole again, moments before the sun had risen  - moments before the wretched birds had killed me. The laws of this galaxy are strange and altogether horrifying to behold - they seem to want to bring me back to life every time I die... Whatever deities are out there, they must seem to want to watch me suffer... or is it because they want me to live on as their pawn?

Whatever the case may be, I'm alive and well. I took my time for the next three tries I had - managing to kill one, then two, then three and then all of the vile chicks as I died and lived and died some more, only to get up again and beat them to death.

I'll beat all the threats here and come back home to the Observatory safe and sound, and damned be the foul creatures which stand in my way. I'll get back, my children, I promise you...

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"This evening I stopped to look at the Moon: Winona bet with Wilson that within half a century the man will get there, and we will spend all the weekends picnic in the lunar craters.
But the Constant's Moon is threatening and malign: when I look at it I feel a shiver down my spine, and my heart beats at the rhythm of another, the heart of some otherworldly creature that lives up there.
Really exists? Or maybe I'm just freaking out."

Nineteenth letter, Wendy Carter

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1 hour ago, GetNerfedOn said:

[...]

(Journal entry number 2)

[...]

But it seems that my spirit could not leave the realm, and as I watched, irate, unable to act as they devoured what bits of food and meat they could pick from my carcass. 

And all of a sudden, a dark void suddenly consumed the world, and I was whole again, moments before the sun had risen  - moments before the wretched birds had killed me. The laws of this galaxy are strange and altogether horrifying to behold - they seem to want to bring me back to life every time I die... Whatever deities are out there, they must seem to want to watch me suffer... or is it because they want me to live on as their pawn?

I love that Rosalina appeals to an evil deity of whom she feels a puppet destined to suffer. I believe this atmosphere at Lovecraft is the most authentic of DS!
Beautiful also the description of his flesh devoured by beasts, as disturbing as it takes ;)

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10 minutes ago, Pop Guy said:

"This evening I stopped to look at the Moon: Winona bet with Wilson that within half a century the man will get there, and we will spend all the weekends picnic in the lunar craters.
But the Constant's Moon is threatening and malign: when I look at it I feel a shiver down my spine, and my heart beats at the rhythm of another, the heart of some otherworldly creature that lives up there.
Really exists? Or maybe I'm just freaking out."

Nineteenth letter, Wendy Carter

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I love that Rosalina appeals to an evil deity of whom she feels a puppet destined to suffer. I believe this atmosphere at Lovecraft is the most authentic of DS!
Beautiful also the description of his flesh devoured by beasts, as disturbing as it takes ;)

aaand this is what characters think when you rollback :(

sEe RolLbACkS ArE BaD >:(

 

this new letter really sets Wendy's personality apart from the rest. Most other characters look at the moon as wondrous to behold... compared to wendy's morbidity envisioning the moon to be insidious, yet another part of the hellish Constant.

And we have Wolfgang who envisions it as a cheese-wheel. Protecc his pure soul

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"A good player who has lost to chess, is frankly convinced that his loss is caused by his mistake, and he looks for it in the beginning of the game, but he forgets that in every move, throughout the game, there have been similar errors, which never one move was perfect. The error on which he concentrates his attention, he notices it only because the opponent has taken advantage of it."

-Lev Tolstoy, "War and Peace"

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"Following suspicious dirt pile... how did that damn dog get into my garden?!"

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"When I was little, I lived in a proletarian family... if mom and dad could see me today, mayor of my 
Carterburg! Don't worry Abigail, there's still time to become an empress!"

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(Journal Entry 3)

As i return to my base, the heat of summer has begun to show itself through the rain clouds as the rain finally begins to slacken. I am soaked, dreadfully, uncomfortably soaked, having gone with just my head covered in a helmet while i hunted down those horrible birds.

Never in my wildest dreams have i thought of using eye matter to fashion a very effective, heat- and waterproof umbrella which also lasts a decently long time, and yet here i am. Ah, well. Ingenuity always precedes desperation.

On much better news I've gotten a bumper crop from my farm - though, this produce shan't last long in the coming, cruel sun. I need to fashion some of these wonderful contraptions which fling Ice on burning things and withered crops if I am to preserve my harvests.

As for coming home... I've little clues as to do so in a conventional sense. Little of whatever material this continent provides can provide me with enough power to leave this cursed galaxy through conventional means...

Hold on, my lumas. Mama's gonna find a way.

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"I managed to tame one of these ugly sticky sheep. 
If you intend "to tame" such as: them into a fence and wait for it to fall asleep for prevent that sheep slaughtering me.
It's a complicated world..."
 -Twentieth (short) letter, Wendy Carter

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"Thank God that Abby cleans while I dry meat"

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