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About TheGreyPotter

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  1. (Just a quick mood peice inspired by Don't Starve. May post more.)(Read on Google Docs | Read on tumblr)I’m on my back. I’m whole, I’m empty, I’m feeling nothing. I probably was nothing, before I came here to this field. Came before the suited demon. He grins wide, a cigar dangling from his fingers. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him take a single pull from that cigar, yet it still dangles there, stinking of petrol and sulfur.“It’s been so long since I’ve actually seen you starve to death. Tell me, how did that feel?”I blink away, staring at moldy grey sky. Did that mean it would rain already? Or was it always like that? I can feel the gaps of knowledge, holes raked clean in my mind, searing in the muggy air. He couldn’t let me remember anymore. Not since I had gotten so close…“Ah well,” he taps a burning cinder onto my foot. “Looks like it’ll be dark soon, so how about you try for a more interesting death this time, hm?”I close my eyes, just try and struggle to my elbows. He leaves sooner that way, vanishing in a curling blast of cigar smoke. I get to my feet and walk, mind numb but body energized. It’s the best it’s ever felt, always in peak condition when I start. I always expect to stand, to feel old, to feel my knees buckle and be completely unable to go on. But I run anyway. No matter how many times I do this, I’m just up, and I just go.At least it always starts warm, I think numbly. At least it always starts here, in a sweet little meadow. Always has what I need. I yank up a carrot without breaking stride, dirt bouncing off my leg as I stuff it in my pocket. I pull fistfuls of berries and leaves from bushes, knowing I’d sort them later. I find a small tree, grab its base, and with a hiss I strip in bare in one clean motion. My hand’s cut up, with dirt in the cuts. Always like that, I think dully. Always turn so soft when I come back. Delicate, how they used to be. They’ll be fat callouses soon enough. No more blood, no refinement. Just fat hams built to survive.For days, I just run. Stop for the brief summer nights, and then charge off again in the morning. A pack bounces off my rear, it’s rattling a familiar sound. The straps cutting in my shoulders… Every time, I ask the same exact question. Was I always this frail?Well, there’s one thing this frail body can do, that becomes so, so very difficult the further I get from my old self.Finally, I find the spot. A place by an old road. A place with berry bushes to the north, bees to the west, a forest close at hand and frog ponds to the south. At a place with five tilled pieces of earth, if I can stand to stare at the fat, grinning head of the demon. If I can stand the smell of hot manure and dirt. Both of these are things that no longer bother me, but this body sometimes… It gags as I stuff seeds into the plots, first thing.I rock my shoulders and fling my pack off into the dirt. It lands with a heavy thump, and out spills the contents. Rocks, logs, a few flashes of gold and silver… I help upend it all, shaking everything I need out. This night I refuse to sleep. With a warm fire burning at my back, I get to work.Even though I’ve done this… I don’t know how many times, this is the moment. This is where everything truly starts to come together. The first time in days that I feel alive. My first breath after so much time under a thick blanket of empty mindlessness. This, this is what I live for, every, every, every time.The plans are always so sharp in my head, and my hands move quick and easy. Splitting boards, flattening gold, shaping rock. This is a machine I know backwards and forwards, that the demon would never take from me, that I’d sooner die than let him take it from me.A science machine. The spark of inspiration in mechanical form. The humming body of my old life, finally coming together before me. No matter how many times I do this, it’s such a rush to build. A wonderful feeling, just slotting all the pieces together, setting it in the stand, flipping the switch…!I spread my hands across it, set my forehead to its warm body, and just feel it buzz and hum beneath me. A laugh bubbles in my throat. Science, oh science, I have built you a shrine, and I worship at your wooden feet. In all these miles and miles of useless slop and dangerous creatures, you are the only thing worth a damn to me. Creation, destruction, all the possibilities of the world in my hands. All materials just a few little tweaks away from becoming my constructions. It doesn’t even take me the rest of the night to build everything I need. There’s a fire burning in my belly. At least, at last, my existence feels like it has meaning. The holes in my memory are swiftly filled, prototypes whipped together, an alchemy machine constructed. Meters and metrics set up in the farm, boxes filled and sorted. Nothing is beyond me now! NOTHING!I leave camp in the morning with hot flush across my face, stubble on my chin, and armor tucked under my arm, a spear in hand. This wilderness will be controlled! I am it’s master now. Great, powerful, and careful enough to never fear! I’ve survived months, maybe years like this, and I’ll keep doing it! For moments like these! For the chance to just build again!Hunting frogs, honestly, it’s terrible, nasty business. I’m covered in bumps and bruises from the experience, but this will help me, I’m sure it will. Already, as I hack and rip my fingernails through little froggy guts, numbers are streaming through my mind. How much do I need to kill to survive? How long will it keep for? Should I fish as well, or was that a waste of time? I have a few farms, but the fruits of that are for special occasions. And the berries won’t last forever, I’m going to have to find some beefalo soon, or maybe track and pen a koalafant. I’ve noticed a few footsteps here and there, if I could just spend the day tracking it…!At the end of each day I’m exhausted, spent, sometimes running back through the darkness with a torch in my hand. But I just sit with my back to my creative machines, let the thoughts flow and fill me, and everything seems wonderful. Knowledge, intelligence, this is all I ever wanted. In my old life, and here in this hell.It’s the need for more manure that drives me from home. The farms are starting to stink less, and a few loose Gobblers are making my berry farm burn faster than it should be. Even if a beefalo herd is far away, I could just camp there a week and bring all I need back. The distance from the science machines would hurt, a little bit. But the fact that I can build them at all…I follow the road east, further and further and further into unknown territory. I probably look like such a wild man. Wilted flowers stuffed and stuck in my hair, clothes made of wood and rope, a long, scraggly beard… Perhaps after this trip, it will do me good to shave. Maybe hunt some spiders, make myself some nicer clothes. I know that I can make clothes, but what exactly eludes me, the gaps in my knowledge, again, so wide and unfilled…I stop, quite suddenly, stunned.After all these times, doing this over and over and over.I’ve found something new.It’s the crank… well, the crank of the teleporter is nothing new. That demon started dropping them in here ages and ages past, taunting me with my very first mistake. What’s around it, that’s what makes me pause. Decorated with nice wooden flooring, marble pillars, practically a shrine to my failures, it is. But now, different from before, there sits a little mechanical bull, wound down and humming in a dull resting phase.I stare at it. Vaguely, I recall a need for mechanized parts for… for something. I didn’t have a clue where to find them, but now? The creature seemed powered by steam, puffs of hot, coppery air releasing from its snout. Of course, this is just like the demon. Giving me the understanding on how to proceed, then tucking the progress away in something that will certainly kill me to obtain. Here, now, on my way to another project and still coated in the bruises from frog farming, I don’t know if I can fight a mechanical beast.And yet, curiosity…I sidle up the road, watching the thing as it slowly awakes. I’m not afraid, of course not. Novelty is something to be revered, not frightened by. I backpedal a little more, keeping a good distance. Watching, fascinated as it hopped around, a spring serving as a sort of pogo. Fascinating creature, would be a wonderful time, just pulling it apart, seeing how it worked—It’s head shoots forward. An impossible distance. Hot bronze slams into my chest. My armor impacts, wood buries into my skin, a dull crunch. I can’t breathe. Shooting pain. Ribs cracked. No. Sternum.That’s it then.I topple backwards. Body gasping. Blood swelling up my throat. Pain just builds and builds and builds. Body doesn’t know how bad it is. Body’s panicking. I can feel it screaming, and I let it do so.But I’m removed. Just feeling everything react, it’s almost like it’s not me anymore.And it’ll be over quick enough.I can barely feel the ground as I hit it. And the sky just sucks itself away. Darkness, the final rest…Yet.I’m on my back. Whole, empty, feeling nothing. Probably am nothing. Just here, in the field again, with a suited demon standing before me. He grins, always grin, a horrible grin. His cigar smells like petrol and sulfur. Smells like the wind in hell.“I see you’ve met my Clockwork Knights! Fascinating, aren’t they?”I blink away, staring at moldy grey sky. Did that mean it would rain already? Or was it always like that?
  2. ... In a game called Don't Starve, I think the least common death is actually, you know, starving. So this happened to my boyfriend, not me, but its pretty entertaining. We had both just gotten the game, and were trying to figure it out. I think he hadn't found enough flint, or used it all, but he was low on food and would Soon start starving to death. He pretty much threw up his hands at that point, and figuring he'd lose, he just ran off in a random direction, exploring. He found a land bridge (the first time either of us had seen one) and ran into a Tallbird. He marveled at it, commenting about how cool it looked. Wandering as his health started to drain, he was saying stuff like "I like these tallbirds. Them and me. We're cool. Just chilling together." Then, I heard him say "Oh look! A free egg!" He grabbed the egg and ate it, still talking about how he's only going to explore until he died. I think he was at 1/4th health? Maybe a third? He saw the Tallbird running at him, and thought it was just randomly walking towards him. He didn't think to run as it came right up and crushed him. "Oh wait, that was the Tallbird's egg? Aw man, I totally deserved that... Poor Tallbird."
  3. I mean, there's been talk of boss mobs before, and I kind've think the answer has been lukewarmish? I dunno I havn't been around enough to make that call ^^; The thing is, this game isn't about the combat. Combat is lethal, tense, and always a problem, even when you've really got the survival down pat. There isn't a lot in the game that's focused on combat, nor should there be. If you put in boss monsters, then that means the game is building you up so you can go fight boss monsters. Even if it's just an "option" to fight, and not presented as a goal, something big like that would almost BECOME the goal. And a boss at the end would undermine the point of the game: Don't Starve. Pretty much what they're talking about here. While I personally wouldn't mind more monster variety and things that kill you in different ways, I dont think bosses are the way to go here.
  4. Dude, you could have a chopping wood theme, and have the swings of your ax be the beat. It would turn Don't Starve into a glorious musical! That's what everybody wants, right? XD
  5. I kind've like that the world is small. Means some of your resources are finite, and you can exhaust them, either purposefully or by accident. There's only so much rock and flint in the world, and if you dont mind a resource like trees, you can eventually run out of them. While its not a huge challenge to be aware of what you're using and how to stabilize it, the idea that you can only tear down so much suits the game's tone more than infinite worlds do.
  6. This is really interesting when you think about only being able to wear one outfit at a time o.o Makes your choices more important. Do you go for safety, and wear a logsuit? Do you go for more inventory space, and wear a backpack? Or do you go for health, and wear a knitted sweater? What if there were a bunch of clothes like this? Like... I dunno, this is from the top of my head. But something like a camo outfit that allows you to better sneak around critters and monsters? A dapper suit that lets you keep followers around longer, but makes your tool use slower (because you're trying to keep the suit clean) Eh, those seem less like meaningful tradeoffs than the heavy coat. But in any case, having a sickness bar is interesting, but having more mechanics built around the sickness bar, things that could conflict with other goals, could be really, really interesting o.o
  7. Good god, that would just be murder mode for the new players XD heck, that'd be murder mode for most anybody. which I guess is why the suggestion to pick a difficulty/starting season came up in the first place...
  8. I wouldnt say there's a emphasis on science so much as there's an emphasis on SCIENCE!!! *flash of lightning* It's still whimsical and silly though, nothing too bombastic or over the top for either science or magic. Low Fantasy? Magical realism...? Anyway, I can see scroll and spell writing being linked to something demonic, providing moderate benefits that come at a great cost. Or maybe "the magic scroll" is just a createable magic item, and it gives one random effect, either positive or negative. It could fill your health in a dire moment, teleport you across the map, or instantly break all your tools. You would never know until you read it... EDIT: Yeah, I wouldnt want to see this game become combat-oriented diablo-esque either. Not really what makes the game fun... combat is very lethal for a reason!
  9. I feel like there could be more music in the game. Not constantly, of course, that would probably break the mood more than help it. But what if there were more musical cues than the fight theme, a destroying nature theme, night is coming, ect? Why not a science theme when you use the science machine? Or a particular refrain when you dig up graves? Farming tune? Cooking tune? Maybe Wilson could craft a guitar out of some spiderwebs and planks, and just spend the night plucking at it. XD Thoughts?
  10. Honestly, I would like to see seasons that both visually change the landscape and make the game more difficult. But I wouldn't want the changes to happen very quickly. In the first 14 days, there's already plenty out there that can kill you, especially if you havn't unlocked a ton of items. No need to have winter roll around in that time and kill you twice as fast. But once you've unlocked all items, found many different ways to survive, and completely optimized yourself, there's really not much the game can throw at you anymore. I think somewhere it was mentioned this shelf happens around day forty or fifty? Why not have winter kick in around then, when its clear you've pretty much mastered your environment? Have fall roll in around day 20 as a warning, then have winter kick in around 40?